#and say Hi to Sprout for Omega!

[kathaynesart]

Poptart: "So... no candy?" Omega: "Not unless you want a dead rat for a snack." Poptart: "Hard pass."

Happy Halloween everyone! (and thank you for the cute house call @elliwoods)

To anyone else who might come a knockin' expect to also be handed an orphan child from the apocalypse to take with you. We don't have any candy here.

[mediumgayitalian]

He’s not looking at her when he walks in, just barely before the last second of the bell.

She’s looking at him, though.

“Lee Fletcher?”

Lee whips his head up, pausing at his seat. The woman has the greenest eyes he’s ever seen — unnaturally so, like pools of chlorophyll — and they lock onto him like the scope of a crossbow.

“Uh. Yeah.” There’s a click as the door closes. Lee swallows, sliding slowly into his desk, keeping his hand, as surreptitiously as he can, down low by his thigh, just out of view. “You the sub?”

Cody sneers from beside him. “You having another episode, freak? Mrs. Cobb has been here all semester.”

Lee glances over at — Mrs. Cobb. She watches him carefully, strange eyes carefully blank, scared hands still and stiff on the arms of her chair. He has been in this Calculus II class for seven months now. He has never seen her once.

Cody hasn’t either.

But Cody’s a fuckin’ dumbass.

“Right,” Lee says lightly. “I’ll up to dosage to three batteries a night. Can always count on you, Codster.”

Cody scowls deeper, kicking over Lee’s backpack. His books go flying across the front of the classroom, papers fluttering about like butterfly wings. “Whatever, tardo.”

“Language,” says Mrs. Cobb. Her voice is low, gravelly; like Lee would expect for someone her age, only there’s an undertone to it, a smoothness he’s never head before. Like the rustling of leaves in the breeze right before you fall asleep. She watches him, again, eyes the only thing that track him, rest of her as stiff as a branch. “If everyone is ready, we’ll get right to it.”

Without waiting for input, and completely ignoring the group of kids gossiping away in the corner, she wheels towards the blackboard and starts writing. It does not take long for the few students awake to lose interest. She doesn’t seem to care.

“You have a desk, Lee Fletcher.”

Lee blinks, coming back to himself; his books have been gathered and his backpack has been zipped. His knees ache, and there are at least four spitballs in his head.

Mrs. Cobb pauses, tilting her head to the side.

“It’s a challenge in the classroom, isn’t it?”

Lee curls a hand around the strap of his backpack.

“What is?”

“The ADHD.” She taps her stick of chalk, tap, tap, snap. “Useful out in the world, though, I bet. Makes you quick.”

There is no reason for her to know about that. Even if she has been his teacher this whole time — and Lee knows she hasn’t, even though he cannot recall who she’s replaced — the school does not have the information. Lee knows. He filled out the forms.

He gives up on pretence.

“Who the hell are you?“

“Your teacher.” She wheels around, thick eyebrow raised. “And your elder, so I’ll thank you not to speak to me that way.”

Lee’s mind races. She is human-sized — Lastrogonians can’t hide that. Neither can cyclops. An empousa would never in a million years choose an elderly form, and they’re concrete brick of a school is nowhere near so much as a sprout for her to be a dryad, even one of the nicer ones. If it was a minotaur, he’d already be dead.

He fuckin’ knew he shoulda read more in his Ancient Zoology: An Alpha to Omega Guide on Ancient Creatures book. Stopping at P was a mistake.

“I know you’re not human.” He unzips, as quietly as he can, blindly ruffling through the smallest pocket. “You’re not fooling me, I’m not —”

The background sounds of the school go white. Lee faintly, in the back of his tongue, tastes copper.

Mrs. Cobb reacts half a second before he does.

“Everybody down!”

[solalunar-eclipse]

Sonadow Snippets #2

In which Sonic returns the favor.

| One |

Shadow’s eyes were carefully trained on Sonic as the blue hedgehog raced through the forest, jumping over roots that sprouted out from the ground and spin-dashing whenever he could in an effort to gain momentum. Of course, Shadow was right by his side, the jets of his skates hissing in rhythm with his strides…but this particular time, the more serious of the two never pulled ahead.

For once, this wasn’t a race.

Instead, Shadow was following Sonic on a path only he knew, waiting to see exactly what lay at the end. After the time when Shadow had invited Sonic to come watch him skate atop a lake out in the middle of nowhere, it hadn’t taken long at all for him to receive an offer in return. Sonic had come up to him one day while he was out picking up some odds and ends for Omega as a favor (apparently his friend had gotten himself temporarily banned from his favorite hardware store but couldn’t handle going without his usual supply of materials to tear apart). Sonic had been his usual direct self, just asking “Hey, do you want to go somewhere with me this Friday?”.

Of course, Shadow had requested a few more details, preferring to know such things as “When, exactly?” and “Why?” before he agreed. Sonic’s response to the latter had more or less made up his mind, however.

“I really appreciated you showing me your skating spot the other day, and…I wanted to show you something too.”

After that, how could he say no?

Of course, this had all come after Sonic offered (seemingly out of nowhere, at the time) to take part of the massive stack of various wooden boards, pieces of plastic, and a strange number of PVC pipes currently threatening to fall out of Shadow’s arms. As an artificially engineered lifeform, he might have been stronger than most, but even he couldn’t hope to win a fight against gravity with a haul that unwieldy.

After that, Shadow had agreed to show up to Sonic’s proposed meeting place, but insisted that “you’d better not be late”, which of course set off a lighthearted argument over whether or not the famously titled “fastest thing alive” was in fact ever late to anything. (Sonic said no to preserve his pride, Shadow said yes based on testimonials he’d heard secondhand through Rouge.)

But Sonic certainly hadn’t been late for this. He’d shown up at the appointed meeting spot even before Shadow had, something that was quite impressive considering the alien hedgehog’s tendency to be almost frighteningly punctual.

And now, the two were running through the forest together, as Shadow awaited the place Sonic considered so important.

All of a sudden, Shadow saw brighter sunlight up ahead—and then burst out of the tree line just behind Sonic into an open field. His momentum sent him tearing past Sonic, as a matter of fact, who had stopped in the middle of the field, apparently having reached his final destination. Shadow quickly turned into a wide arc, slowly decreasing his speed as he looped out, around, and back towards Sonic, before finally kicking his skates forward and coming to a stop himself.

“Pff, show-off.” Sonic teased, smirking.

“I just needed to find a way to burn off my speed,” Shadow insisted, not mentioning that he did generally prefer to do so in an artistic way when possible. “It’s not my fault you stopped without saying anything.”

“I did so say something, you must not have heard me.”

Shadow sighed, before letting it go for once. “So, what did you want to show me, anyway?”

Sonic gestured out to the field, which Shadow hadn’t looked at properly yet, first blinded by the sun and then focused on stopping himself. He turned in the direction Sonic had moved, and…

…it really was a special place.

This was the kind of field he’d begun to suspect only existed in storybooks and paintings of days gone by, after several years getting used to life down here on the planet. Most fields were filled with grass so tall he could barely see, or were patchy with dirt and mud amongst the green. This one, however, was covered in lush green grass, among which grew a veritable bounty of wildflowers.

It took him a long moment to think of what to say, and even then, it didn’t feel like much. “It’s beautiful.” he said, and then tried to add something more. “I…appreciate you bringing me here.”

Sonic beamed at him, leaning forward eagerly. “And this is just the beginning! Come on, we gotta get further out!”

Shadow followed Sonic as he walked further into the field, occasionally spinning around and walking backwards just to get a better view of everything. He’d always shoot Shadow a smile whenever he did that, too, and Shadow would dip his head slightly in response. It became almost comforting after the first couple of times, a silent little call-and-response.

You still liking it?

Yes.

Hey there!

Hello.

Glad you came.

I am too.

Eventually, they found one particular spot (Shadow knew it was specific because he saw Sonic lining up his position with a couple of landmark hills and rocks), and both stopped right there, at the top of one of the low, rolling curves in the earth. Sonic sat down cross-legged, before falling backwards and lying down, kicking his legs out as he did so. After a moment where he looked expectantly upwards at Shadow, the alien hedgehog lay down delicately, easing himself into it a little more than his companion.

For a while, they just lay there together in silence, staring up at the vibrantly blue, cloudless sky. Shadow sighed, feeling the warmth of the sun as it rapidly soaked into his dark fur.

Soon enough, he closed his eyes, just basking in the heat and letting his breathing slow down. It was sometimes difficult for him to stay grounded in the present moment, always ruminating on the past or trying to plan ahead for the future. Whenever he could feel his thoughts starting to wind up, though, he would just open his eyes again, tilt his head to the side, and try to count all the different colors and flowers that he could see in the field.

After a few more moments, Sonic spoke up. “I knew you’d be the perfect guy to do this with.”

“Did you?” Shadow asked, his voice hushed. He didn’t want to disturb the stillness of the moment.

“Yeah. I know we hang out a lot because we can keep up with each other…but that goes for the slow times as well as the fast ones.” Sonic answered.

Shadow let out a slow exhale. “Indeed. It’s more difficult to slow down mentally rather than physically, but when I can, it’s very much appreciated.”

“Is now one of those times?” He heard a shifting over to his right, and turned to see Sonic’s eyes looking at him, somehow a more vibrant green than the grass beside him.

“I’m doing my best. It’s a lovely place.” Shadow said softly.

Sonic smiled, much more peacefully than his usual grins. “One of the best parts of saving the world is getting to enjoy it after. You made this place possible, just as much as I ever have. I appreciate that.”

Shadow felt his face soften and relax slightly, and though he wasn’t sure what it looked like, the way Sonic’s eyes widened told him that it was a rare sight. “Thank you, Sonic. For bringing me here, and for your words.”

“Anytime, Shadow. Anytime at all.”

[sstormyskyess]

A New Dynamic

author's note: so. this is my first a/b/o fic and uhh i've managed to make it trans! basically in my a/b/o universe people can switch their secondary gender with hormone therapy, just like with trans people and HRT irl, and reader in this fic transitioned from omega to alpha [idk if i explained that perfectly but! please enjoy and also feedback would be nice since i'm new to writing a/b/o]

cw: a/b/o dynamics, smut, male alpha reader, omega gaz, masturbation [from both reader and gaz], general awkwardness because they're exes, knotting

word count: 3500+ [i think this is my longest one shot i've written. uhh may have gotten carried away woops]

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick / M!Reader

“Kyle!” You run up to him with a big grin on your face, pulling him into a hug which he graciously accepts. You bury your face into his shoulder and he does the same, his hands holding onto your shirt as though you might fade away if he lets go.

It’s been almost five years since you last saw your best friend from secondary school and your lover up until he left for enlistment. To say you missed him would be an understatement. You’ve kept in touch with one another through letters and the occasional call here and there, but obviously nothing could compare to being face to face again.

All the way home, your hand is on his thigh and you tell him all about what’s been happening in your life recently. A new promotion at work, shenanigans during a fun night out with friends—friends who Kyle would have to say hello to as well—and some new hobbies you’ve picked up. He shared his own stories, though some of the details had to be axed because of their classified status. You were particularly caught off-guard by him recounting the time he fell out of a helicopter and nearly broke his spine, but that was neither here nor there. At least in his eyes.

Once you pull into the driveway and help him carry all his bags inside, he takes notice of something… interesting.  “Are you seeing someone right now, mate?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

You look at him, confused for a good few moments. “...No? Why?” He stares back at you, almost as if he didn’t believe you. “Is something up?”

It just doesn’t add up in his head. If you weren’t in a relationship with someone, then why did your house smell so distinctly of alpha? When he thought about it further, he did think something was off at the train station as well. He must’ve been distracted by his joy seeing you after so long, but thinking back on it, you had an alpha’s scent all over you. He must realize that he was looking at you as if you’d grown a third arm so he quickly shakes his head to recover from his stupor.

“You okay, Kyle?” You raise an eyebrow, equally confused as he is. Why would he assume you’re dating someone? That’s certainly something you would’ve told him before letting him stay at your place. It would be fairly awkward to have two omegas under one roof with you, especially when one of them was in a relationship with you and the other wasn’t. There was a definite possibility of… jealousy sprouting up.

“I’m gonna take my bags upstairs, just uh—gimme a sec.” He says quickly, picking up his stuff and heading up to the guest room he’s staying in for the next month. You stare after him, still left a little confused. You figure you can bring it up later. Maybe he was tired from jet lag or something. You check the time, your eyes widening a bit when you realize you missed your hormone injection, going upstairs to your bathroom and getting all your things ready.

By the time the sun set and you both had finished dinner, Kyle is still trying to rationalize what could possibly be the explanation behind the alpha scent wafting around the room and teasing his olfactory glands. It was almost making his head hurt with how enticing it was.

To be honest, you’re not faring any better. His scent never triggered anything in you when you were an omega, but now he just smells so sweet. You hope you’re doing a decent job of hiding the shuffling you’re doing to try and relieve some of the tension growing in your boxers. It would most definitely throw things off to get all riled up for someone you broke up with years ago. It was amicable between the both of you, of course, but it’s been so long since either of you had contact with each other.

You dwell on it a bit more all while trying to keep your attention on whatever TV show it was that he put on. Every time he tried to get more comfortable, though, he either squished your legs closer together or brushed up every so slightly against the bulge in your pants. You start to wonder if he knows what he’s doing. He had to, right? He couldn’t be doing this by accident.

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you struggle ignoring the way your cock twitches in your sweatpants when he mutters something about how your couch is too lumpy and needs to be replaced before readjusting his legs and hips. His motions press your legs together and a shiver goes up your spine when the cloth of your boxers rubs up against your erection. You groan quietly and clear your throat when Kyle shoots a look your way. “You alright, mate?” He asks all too innocently.

You reach over to the end table to grab your glass of water with shaky hands, taking a long sip from it. “I’m fine.” Your voice is strained when you speak and you quickly set the glass back down before pulling a blanket over your lap as nonchalantly as you can manage.

You stare forward with unfocused eyes before you finally stand up, the intoxicating scent of sandalwood and vanilla permeating around the living room too much to handle. “I’ll—I’ll be right back.” You eke out, going to the downstairs bathroom in a hurry. You don’t see the concern on his face before you’re shutting the door and releasing a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding.

The moment you have your back against the cool tile on the walls, you’re doing everything you can to stave off what you can feel building up against your will. This couldn’t be happening, not now. You couldn’t be going into rut the very day your best friend was finally seeing you again after all this time. You palm at the bulge in your sweatpants, groaning as quietly as you can and tilting your head back against the wall.

Cursing under your breath, you begrudgingly yet desperately yank your pants and underwear down and take hold of your hard cock. You try taking deep breaths to stop yourself from losing yourself to the pleasure. It was so amplified by the remnants of Kyle’s scent that had seeped into your shirt just from him sitting next to him. It’s so much more powerful than it was earlier in the day, so you know your rut is coming.

You’re in there for a few more minutes than would’ve been normal, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care when your cum spills all over your fist. It covers your fingers and your softening cock and deflating knot when you give yourself a few more pumps to ride out your orgasm. But it wasn’t enough. You regretfully give in to the fact you would have to turn in early for the night.

After washing your hand off in the sink, you head back to the living room and look at Kyle, who was on his phone, scrolling mindlessly. “Uh, Kyle? I’m gonna head to bed, I’m super tired.”

He sits up and turns to you, tilting his head. “Are you okay? What’s up?” He stands up and starts walking over to you until you put your hands up defensively. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, I think I might be sick. I don’t wanna get you sick too, so I’m just going to bed.” You stumble through your weak excuse, voice cracking a bit when you neared the end of your sentence. You stare at each other for a few more moments before you turn away and rush up the stairs, closing your door a little more forcefully than you would’ve liked.

A couple hours pass and you’ve nearly pushed yourself to the brink of fainting with how many times you’ve brought yourself to orgasm. You’re glad that you had enough foresight to put a towel down before falling down the rabbit hole; if you hadn’t you would have to change your sheets before you went to sleep with how much cum you’ve expended.

Your chest heaves and sweat drips down your forehead. You’ve long since gotten rid of your clothes, now laid bare in the center of your bed. One thing you found after you transitioned from omega to alpha was that your ruts were much more intense than a natural alpha’s was. Your doctor told you it was something about the remnants of your omega biology making your ruts closer to heats.

The knot at the base of your cock was aching with how thick it’s gotten. The amount of blood rushing down there was making you lightheaded, but you just couldn’t stop. Your body won’t let you stop, you need to keep going. You feel like you might collapse in on yourself if you stopped for even a second.

But the muscles in your arm are tiring by the minute and your hand is starting to give out on you. Even thrusting up into your fist isn’t working because your fingers are cramping up from how hard you were squeezing your dick. You swallow thickly, already getting dehydrated, but you’d rather die than make a fool of yourself trying to stumble to the kitchen to get water—plus, Kyle didn’t need to know you went into a rut because of him. So, through all the brain fog, you remind yourself to listen for Kyle in his room to get you an opportunity to get a much needed glass of water.

You’ve long since given up on trying to stay quiet, deciding to forgo suppressing your wanton moans and desperate whines. Every now and then, shame builds up in your gut because Kyle’s name passes your lips, pleading for him despite the knowledge you shouldn’t want him so bad. But you want him anyway, and it almost made you feel too guilty to keep going. Almost.

Little did you know, Kyle’s in the guest room separated by just one wall, and he can hear everything. Every groan and huff and grunt. Every call of his name. And he has his hand in his pants, stroking himself with the same guilt that you’re feeling. He twisted his hand around his cock languidly, his palm closing around the tip with every few strokes.

When he walked past your room on the way to his earlier that night, he got the strongest whiff of your musk that he’d ever gotten, even when the two of you were in a relationship so many years ago. It all finally clicked in his mind at that moment.

He’s heard about people replacing their designation a couple times before, but he never expected you to be one of those people. Through his entire time knowing you, you never expressed any interest in that kind of thing. But quite honestly, he doesn’t care. All he knows is that you were going through a rut and God, did he want to be there to help you.

After he recovers from a couple quick orgasms and cleans up the mess as best he could, he gets up and deliberates for a bit. He could offer you some assistance, but imagine the consequences. He would never be able to live it down if he asked to help you with your rut and you turned him away point blank. The embarrassment would be too much. He sighs and gets himself together to at the very least get you some water.

He knocks on your door with a glass of water in hand a couple minutes later and hears you stumble off your bed with a harsh thud. “J-Just a sec!” You call out to him, trying to pull on a pair of sweatpants as fast as possible after wiping your sticky hand off on the towel.

When you open your door, your skin is practically dripping with sweat and your limbs are shaking just a bit. “Sorry, just, uh—tripped. Y’caught me off guard,” is what you’re able to muster up, but not without a voice crack in the middle. “What did you need?”

He looks almost as embarrassed as you do, with his eyes darting everywhere but you. “Um… I just thought I’d bring you some water.” He offers the glass to you and you take it, knowing at that moment that he’s heard everything you’ve been doing. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip nervously and you clear your throat, trying to stave off that ever-present feeling of guilt that settled in your stomach from the moment you got into bed. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” You mumble, looking at the floor.

The silence is awkward while you stand there in front of each other. You desperately urge the floor to swallow you whole to avoid the question you know he’s going to ask you, but instead you settle for broaching the subject yourself.

“Can you help me with—”

“Do you want me to help—”

You end up cutting each other off and you internally curse whatever higher power put you in this situation. They had to be out to get you at this point.

You shift from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Through all of this tension, your throbbing boner still hadn’t gone away. In fact, it was actually getting worse with Kyle standing barely a foot away from you, forcing his tantalizing scent to fill your nostrils and sending wave after devastating wave of desire through your body and straight to your cock.

He sees your fingers clinging to the door frame where you were holding it to keep yourself upright, the veins in your hand springing to the surface with how tightly you were grasping it. He puts a hand on your still bare chest, making your hairs stand on end from the skin on skin contact. “Here, just—go lay down, okay? You can barely stand, c’mon…” He takes the water from your hand and carefully herds you over to the bed, letting you collapse on it.

He could smell the sex in here; it was overpowering, making his pupils dilate and his mouth water. You pant with little huffs of breath looking up at him with glassy eyes filled with unbridled lust. “Kyle—fuck, please let me fuck you, please,” you groan.

He snaps out of the trance he got locked into from watching you slip your sweats down to let your cock spring free and land, heavy and dripping, onto your stomach. You reach for the waistband of his shorts, tugging on them. He gets the hint and pulls his shirt and bottoms off before climbing onto the bed and sitting on his knees.

You shakily roll over and wrap your arms around him from behind. You lean over him, urging him on all fours. He gasps when he feels your swollen, rock hard cock slide against his slick, wet asshole. Memories of how well you fill him come flooding back as though it was yesterday, sending a shiver down his spine. He mumbles your name and glances back at you when he notices you’ve gone rigid behind him. “Are you okay—”

He yelps when you spear him on your cock all of a sudden, sinking all the way to the hilt. You let out a deep, long moan at the feeling of his hole stretching to make room for you. “Shit—Kyle…” You drag out his name, burying your face in the space between his shoulder blades. “You feel so good, so so good,” you babble on, halfway incoherent with his name on your lips over and over.

Kyle reaches back and rests his hand on your shoulder, trailing it up to pet along the back of your neck and eliciting a pleased grumble in the pits of your chest. You rock your hips back and forth ever so slightly, working him open to make room for your dick for a while. He moans at the way one of the ridges of your cock rubs against his prostate over and over.

When you felt he was ready for you, you start to thrust into him properly, pulling out almost to the tip and then right back in slowly. “Y’feel good, love,” he says, a small quake in his voice and a small smile on his face.

Your lips connect to his neck, nibbling and sucking on his skin roughly, wanting to leave bruises that would last for a good while. You needed to make him yours. He accepts every mark you leave along his neck and shoulders, his smile growing the longer your cock dragged along his walls. You luckily managed to keep teeth away from where you last left your mark on him, narrowly avoiding the sensitive patch of skin.

You start to groan quietly, body shaking from the way you’re tensing your muscles and holding back. He takes notice of your reluctance and looks back at you, concerned. “What’s wrong?” He asks and you whine, your fingers starting to dig into the meat of his stomach where your arms were wrapped around him. “D-Don’t want… to hurt you, Kyle,” you pant, voice breathy. “Not gonna be able to stop myself…”

“You’re not gonna hurt me, love. Don’t hold back, it’s okay,” he reassures you with a soft voice, his tone releasing the tension in your body.

His words renewed the overwhelming desperation clouding your mind. You clench your teeth and, with a deep, rumbling growl, you speed up your pace and your thrusts become rough, merciless. He tosses his head back in surprise and moans your name sharply. The power of your hips slamming into him ends up pushing him face down and ass up, his face getting buried in the sheets.

His moans get chopped up in time with each time you pump your cock into his hole, his whole body getting jostled forward from the force you’re exerting. Goosebumps rise on his skin as your groans reverberate through your chest into his back and your shaft twitches against his walls, all the sensations overwhelming him. To ground himself, he lifts one of his arms up from where it had been laying uselessly by his side and reaches behind him to grab your shoulder.

Kyle feels his orgasm sneak up on him, having gotten lost in the pleasure of being with you again, but in so many new ways. “Shit, love—fuck—I want your knot baby, please,” he cries, tossing his head back. He never imagined he would be asking you for such a thing; you’ve had sex with each other many, many times before, but never like this. This was something else entirely, and it felt so, so good.

You groan in response to his words. You’ve never heard him so desperate before, and it fills you with a deep sense of confidence. It’s not as though you haven’t slept with anyone since splitting with Kyle, but something about him begging for you sent you into a frenzy.

He yelps at the sudden change in pace. You unintentionally forced him down into a prone bone position, your full weight on top of him and your arms pulling him into every thrust. Your teeth latch onto the back of his neck and scruff him with a growl. You vaguely register that you’re trying to say something despite your mouth being occupied, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop, no matter how embarrassing it might be later.

He shivers at the feeling of your saliva dripping down his neck and seeping into the bedsheets, joining the pool of his own drool where his mouth was hanging open from pure ecstasy. Your cock was hitting the perfect angle in this position, flat on his stomach and his legs pinned between your knees. With you on top of him it was easier to feel your swelling knot catching on the rim of his wet asshole. He slowly joins you in your mindless babbling, begging and pleading for you to give him that sweet release.

“I-I missed you so much, love, oh God—please, want you to fill me up, please, please, please—!” He wails when he cums, his spend getting caught under his body and wetting the sheets along with a wave of slick gushing out of his hole past your dick. It was the most intense orgasm he’s had in ages, all because of you.

The clutch of his walls fluttering around you makes you finally let go of his neck and throw your head back with a sharp groan. “Fuck—fuck!” You hiss, squeezing him tighter in your arms and shoving your knot into his tight, wet heat. Your cum floods his hole, filling him up to the brim. He sobs at the warm feeling. It felt so different with your knot added to the mix, stretching him wide.

You relax on top of him, with a heavy sigh, taking hold of him and rolling you both on your sides to spoon him and hold him close. You nuzzle your face in his neck, already rocking your hips into him again needily. It was gonna be a long night, he thinks to himself while running his hands up and down your forearms where they lay against his stomach.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[sadistic-kiss]

~Jealous Alpha Gojo ~

“Answer the question…tell me you hate me omega.”

Insecure bastards. It was like you were talking to Getou all over again. “Gojo- I don’t hate you! I don’t hate any of you!”

“…Then…you find me unattractive!?” Gojo looked like he had seen a ghost.

“GOJO! Do you not remember what you did to me at the omega house?!”

“Yeah, but… you play with everyone else but me…”

He has to be joking! “Are you serious? I- i told you I’m a bit… shy with these things!”

He ran his finger upon your arms, barely touching you, but your body still began to heat up. “Don’t say that you don’t… I’ve watched… you're always playing with them… you didn’t let me touch you but you ran off with Sukuna and let him…just tell me you hate me.” He didn’t touch you any more than your arm, like he was truly afraid you hated him and his advances.

“Gojo I don’t hate you…I promise.” You truly tried to sound sincere but you doubt he trusted you, especially since you’ve been busy sprouting out lies like it was candy.

“We were supposed to have time together… I was supposed to help you learn your magic…but instead you are so worried about Nanami you barely talked to me until now… if I drink the poison would you be worried about me like that too? Would you think of me more?”

What in the yandere hell is this?

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Star Wars Fic Roulette

@dragonrider9905 As promised, here's the second story. It is much shorter than my usual, but it felt perfect ending it where I did.

Also this does contain a spoiler from Season 3 Episode 8

So anyone reading this please BEWARE SPOILERS AHEAD

Love oo,

Can't Lose You

Warning: Spoilers from Episode 8 (You've been warned), anxiety, trust, grief, tears, comfort, I think that's it. If I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

You looked over Hunter as soon as he was back on the boat Fennec had purchased, your eyes shifting from him to Wrecker. You held your breath until Wrecker made it back on the boat. 

“Breathe… breathe,” You reminded yourself, keeping your voice low.

“Look at the stars, kid.” Fennec’s voice came from behind you, you turned your head to glare at her, “Just saying. When you’re struggling to find your breath, sometimes it helps to look at the stars and breathe.”

“If it weren’t for you …” You began to raise your voice when Hunter held your hand, pulling your attention back to him, he simply shook his head ‘no.’ You closed your eyes and nodded, letting out a breath.

“Anything hurt?” I asked Hunter as I shifted his backplate to look at the damage.

“No. Not really.”

“You’re lucky you got away with only a scratch.” You mumbled as your hand gently rubbed his back. “Alright, you should be okay. Wrecker, any injuries?” You called over your shoulder as you looked at him.

“All good!” He held his thumb up, you nodded, shifting away from Hunter, trying to relax, but keeping your eyes on the water. By the time you finished with Fennec, and she dropped us back to the Marauder, all you wanted was your bed. Well, Hunter and your bed. 

You sat in the common room, absentmindedly playing with your medic scanner, when Hunter came and sit beside you. 

“Cyar’ika?” His fingers gently played with your hair, stroking it as he looked at you. It was an old habit that you absolutely loved, you closed your eyes and reminded yourself Hunter was still alive and he was here with you. 

“I don’t trust that woman.”

“I don’t trust her either, but we needed the information.”

You opened your eyes and turned to look at Hunter, “At what cost? What if she tells the Empire where we are? What if she’s somehow working for Hemlock and we lose Omega again?” Tears welled up in your eyes, “Or what if this time, I lose all of you and not just Tech … I can’t …” tears started to slide down your cheeks as you looked at him, “I can’t lose you. I can’t.” 

“Shhh” Hunter pulled you on to his lap, holding you close as you buried your face in his neck, letting out the tears that had been lining up since you saw Hunter grabbed by the Crocodile. Watching him being pulled under and then seeing Wrecker go in after him, it was too much.

“I’m here. I’m fine.” He gently whispered as he kept stroking your hair and your back. “You’ll never lose me.”

You squeezed your arms around him, holding him as close as humanly possible. You were grateful he had taken off his armour, as his warmth seeped into every fibre of your being. You didn’t want a second without Hunter, without his love. 

“Promise me,” you mumbled against his shoulder.

“What?” 

“Promise me, I won’t lose you.”

Hunter pressed a kiss to the side of your head and buried his face in your neck, feeling his breath on your neck, “I promise.”

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[vaporame]

Vash whump prompts/scenarios

During October (whumptober), I posted a Vash whump prompt or scenario each day on twitter/bluesky, with most of them including caretaker Wolfwood - basically WV dynamic.

Content warnings include omegaverse, mpreg, body dysmorphia, blood/injuries, implied noncon and nsfw activities (not explicit).

Here's the entire list below:

Vash's heat approaches while in captivity.

Wolfwood finding Vash in a bloody mess from trying (and failing) to pluck out his feathers.

Vash taking a bullet for Wolfwood but miscalculates and gets hit in the head. Wolfwood struggling to find someone who can help a barely conscious Vash.

Vash running away from Wolfwood without a word when he can't hide the fact he's pregnant anymore and Wolfwood has to track him down. Wolfwood finds out he's pregnant from overhearing gossip at a bar.

Vash, pregnant, and with red plant markings.

Bounty hunters using Wolfwood as bait, knowing he's the closest to Vash, and hurting him is the best way to hurt Vash.

Wolfwood checking up on Vash after they fight off a bunch of bounty hunters but Vash suddenly falls over and passes out (he's got a concussion, a bruised rib cage and 3 bullet wounds).

Vash bursting into tears when his baby starts crying, thinking it was a mistake to have children when he's not fit for it and for making Wolfwood stuck with him (he has postpartum depression).

(Expanding on the previous prompt) Wolfwood finds Vash with tears down his face and an empty look while holding their crying baby.

Vash captured and blinded for days, when Wolfwood finds him, he flinches away from his touch as if he's another person out to hurt him.

Post-trimax Vash overusing the limited power he has left to save Wolfwood and Wolfwood has to nurse an unconscious Vash back to health.

Vash getting strangled to the point where he can't speak for days and Wolfwood is unnerved by the silence that's usually filled with Vash's voice.

Post-trimax Vash having a weak immune system and getting fevers when the kids get sick. Wolfwood is there to take care of him.

Omega!Vash saying (lying) he's going to be gone for a few days to do some errands and Wolfwood finds him camping in the desert dehydrated and in heat.

Pregnant Vash refusing to accept the baby as his, only as Wolfwood's, and thinking he's not a good parent b/c he thought about running away and leaving the baby with Wolfwood.

Vash's age and injuries catching up with him where he's left lethargic some days from the aches and pains. Wolfwood runs a warm bath for him and helps massage out the scars and muscles.

Vash suffering from nightmares and sleep deprivation, thinking he's a danger to the orphanage whether it's bounty hunters coming after him or losing control of his destructive powers, and decides to leave without a word.

Vash losing control of his powers with wings sprouting everywhere, doesn't want to hurt Wolfwood who's in the blast radius attempting to calm him down.

Vash crying during his first (failed) time with Wolfwood and feeling overwhelmed with the love being poured into him.

Wolfwood rescuing Vash who greets him with a genuine smile despite the bruises all over his face and body.

Vash getting drugged/sedated but experiencing the worst side effects b/c of his different biology and it's poisonous.

Vash delirious with a fever, he doesn't recognize Wolfwood whispering reassurances and trying to soothe his fever but every touch burns.

(Implied noncon) forced aftercare where Wolfwood cleans up Vash after their first time and Vash is confused and adamant to clean himself because no one has done that for him before + he wonders why doesn't feels any pain.

Vash hiding his pregnancy (he's sick every morning, his sense of smell and taste are working against him) until he can find an excuse to leave but Melanie clocks him not long after and asks if he's pregnant.

Vash having nightmares of Wolfwood dying and the only way for him to fall back to sleep is lie next to Wolfwood and listen to his heartbeat.

Vash using his wings and body to shield a woman and child from bullets, but the wings and blood end up frightening the woman and child, reminding him he's not human. Later, Wolfwood patches up a quiet Vash with an empty look.

Vash having his eyes slashed or splashed with chemicals and going blind for a while until he heals. He's very stressed about losing one of his reliable senses but Wolfwood helps guide him around.

Vash healing multiple Plants and overestimating how much energy he can expend, running into danger soon after where the fatigue makes him sloppy and he takes a few bullets. while hiding and taking a breather, Wolfwood turns to Vash to find him unresponsive.

Wolfwood stressing over Vash bleeding out from serious injuries, and Vash wants to calm him down but he can barely move so he purrs in an attempt to calm Wolfwood.

Pregnant Vash feeling dysphoria over his body and all the big plant wings and feathers growing everywhere, and Wolfwood is so patient with him while grooming his wings, helping him bathe and replacing his nest with new blankets.

Vash, both touch-starved and touch-aversive, wanting the comfort, wanting Wolfwood to touch him but it burns, taking it slow with small touches until Wolfwood can cup him face and Vash is smiling through tears instead of recoiling.

[wizardingworldlibrary]

Polyamory Slash Masterlist

A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love (ao3) - R33sesPieces Sirius/Remus/James E, 22k

Summary: When Sirius Black bumps into his favourite Omega camboy at a work event, it doesn’t go even remotely as he expects. He smells wrong, for one thing. For another, he has a partner Sirius didn’t anticipate. But when Sirius snags an invite home with him anyway, what else is a lonely Alpha to do?

Aim For My Heart (ao3) - tackytiger Draco/Harry/Ron M, 3k

Summary: Harry's in love, Ron's in control, and Draco just wants a nice lunch. They say three's a crowd, but Harry doesn't always agree. Not when he gets to be in the middle, anyway.

In which Harry's in love with Ron, and Harry's in love with Draco, but they're not all in love with each other. Not yet, anyway.

Bullying? No, Terrible Flirting (ao3) - bearwithmeasitryandfinishthings James/Tom/Snape G, 13k

Summary: (James unwillingly develops a crush on the two most studious, socially separated Slytherins in his year)

Devilish Romance (ao3) - Madriddler Draco/Harry, Draco/Harry/Blaise, Sirius/Remus E, 81k

Summary: Harry Potter, a warlock on the crux of his sixteenth birthday, is both excited and scared to become a full member of his coven. With more feminine interests than his peers, Harry is scared of being mocked and ridiculed, both for his interest, and being The Coward’s Son. Raised by his Uncles Sirius and Remus, Harry finds an unlikely friendship in fellow warlock Draco Malfoy, who has huge aspirations for both him and Harry: summoning a demon, and binding him to their service. They just wasn’t expecting on summoning the Son of the Devil

don't wanna be the bad guy anymore (ao3) - badgerinbloom Draco/Goyle/Blaise G, 980

Summary: Blaise, Draco and Goyle get split up during the battle, and when they find each other again, Draco realizes that he doesn't want to fight Voldemort's fight anymore.

Electric Light (ao3) - orphan_account Draco/Harry/Neville E, 18k

Summary: His gloves are from last year and the left one has a small tear in the charmed leather that he has to keep out of sight of Professor Sprout, who would go into a whole lecture on health and safety if she saw it, and then insist he wore a pair from the lost and found bucket in the corner of her mouldy old office.

Finding What's Missing (ao3) - SumthinClever Draco/Neville/Blaise M, 9k

Summary: Blaise goes missing and throws Draco's life into a tailspin. Neville is the lead Auror on the case, and he helps Draco find himself just as much as he is on the hunt for Blaise.

Will something develop between Draco and Neville? And what will happen when Blaise returns?

In Between Ley Lines (ao3) - Aeliius Orion/Abraxas/Harry M, 68k

Summary: His magical education had missed many things. Ley Lines, he learned, one of the most important of them.

The past was confusing and foreign, and the war awaiting him threatened to destroy all that he had built in it.

Love wasn't easy, living was outright hard. Good thing Harry Potter didn't know how to give up.

Never Too Careful (ao3) - DrSalazar2U Sirius/Albus/Gellert E, 100k

Summary: "So that, when my mother died, and I was left the responsibility of a damaged sister and a wayward brother, I returned to my village in anger and bitterness. Trapped and wasted, I thought! And then, of course,

he came..." (HP&DH; 716)

Gellert presents a life changing opportunity to discover more about the powerful and dangerous Deathly Hallows while also learning so much more about the power and danger inside himself.

Personal Heaven (ao3) - LennyDark Sirius/James/Snape E, 223k

Summary: Professor Dumbledore is tired of James and Severus fighting 24/7. So he has planned the ultimate summer punishment for them, but is it really a punishment.

Promises in the Dark (ao3) - tryslora Neville/Harry/Ron E, 2k

Summary: Six pints into the evening, the alumni of the Gryffindor boys’ dorm make a bet, and Harry gets much more than he bargained for on his way to trying to win it.

Small Comforts (ao3) - keyflight790 Neville/Draco/Harry E, 3k

Summary: A slice of life in this beautiful triad.

This Fever (ao3) - gracerene Seamus/Neville/Harry/Dean/Ron E, 6k

Summary: A chance encounter opens up a world of discovery for Harry.

Triad Trials (ao3) - Misty Shadowbrook (Dagger_Stiletto) Draco/Harry/Snape N/R, 3k

Summary: Draco can feel their happy world starting to crumble, but he and Severus are determined to keep their love afloat, no matter what it is that's trying to destroy them.

Unconventional Relationships (ao3) - Vorabiza (Biza) Lucius/Harry/Blaise E, 23k

Summary: Harry has always stood out from the norm, and his relationships with Lucius and Blaise are no different.

we’ll win together, you and i (ao3) - sadie18 (orphan_account) Marcus/Percy/Oliver N/R, 16k

Summary: the ministry meddles in the young lives of the sixth and seventh years, and the sorting hat as sorted percy, oliver and marcus into the same bed.

it turns out just fine, if they had anything to say about it.

[pixydustworld]

Fate found Hermione Granger in the crowded Ministry cafeteria. 

She had done her best to outrun it, but it was inevitable. Like the ocean finding the shore, like the mist that settled in the meadow right before sunrise; something that always happened, spiraling far beyond her control. Accepting defeat, however, had never been in her nature. 

She would go down fighting, glorious in her anger. 

“I think you’d be happier if you just let it happen.” 

Ginny flinched after the words left her lips. “I mean,” she hurried to correct herself, cheeks red, “It’s just easier. Less painful.”

Hermione forced a smile. “I’m fine with the pain.” She said, ignoring the aching hole in her chest as she watched Blaise curve a comforting hand across her friend's shoulder, warm and present and possessive. An Alpha comforting his Omega. “And besides. I like belonging to myself.”

“We just want you to be happy.” Blaise shrugged. “How many heats have you done on your own? Five? Six? It’s unhealthy to do this to yourself, Hermione, and wrong  —”

“Thank you.” Hermione interrupted him. “But I’m alright.”

It was a familiar conversation, one she knew well; at the start, Hermione had assumed she’d present as a Beta — Ron was one, she would be one, too. 

When her Heat had come, unrelenting and debilitatingly unavoidable, she had known the truth: too bitter to be disregarded, too blatant to be ignored. She was an Omega, praised, prized and often, procured. 

“This doesn’t change anything.” Harry had insisted a few days after she’d Presented, holding her close to his chest, fingers trailing along her spine. “You’re still you.” Then he had smiled down at her, self deprecating and familiar, like she remembered, like he’d always been. “And I’m still me.”

Harry had been wrong, as he often was. Perhaps things hadn’t changed much for him: being an Alpha was no different than his life before — but her presentation had changed everything.

“It’s just.” Ginny’s voice brought her back to the present, persistent in a way that could never be completely kind, “I know what you’re going through. You’re torturing yourself. ”

“I’ve been tortured.” Hermione said. The free coffee was not worth this interrogation, nor was the muffin Blaise had proudly presented to her (Alpha instincts, bleeding like an open wound across all of his actions), “It feels much worse than this.”

“Do you have a plan?” Blaise blurted out, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer. He was blunt and unafraid of her wrath, like all Alpha’s were — all except Harry, who still remembered who she was underneath everything. Saw her for who she properly was. “For your next one?”

“Yes.” Hermione said through her teeth, bravely resisting the urge to throw her coffee in his face. “I’ll be alone. Like I have been. For the last six heats.”

Their conversation was ending, the embers of their time together dwindling, which could only mean one thing. The comment that haunted all her interactions, the ghost at her door, the seed of hope that sprouted in Ginny’s chest, determined to grow under any condition. 

“What about the Alpha from that one time?” Ginny asked in a rush of words, determined to get it out before Hermione cut her off. “The last one you were with before this whole celibacy thing started. We should get him — ”

“No.”

Memories of their time spent together flashed before Hermione’s eyes, a mirage of naked flesh and shuddering pleasure. Pain bloomed deeper in her chest at the thought and Hermione blinked everything away 

“I could try to find him.” Blaise was saying, like he always did. A broken record of concern, echoing over and over. “Let me try, Hermione — ”

“It’s alright.” Hermione said, soothing her friends. A warm bandage of care, a nice thought. “I didn’t know him. And even if you did manage to find him, I don’t think I’d even recognize him.” She smiled, then. Hopeful about finally getting to leave. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

It sounded like the truth.

 Or at least, she hoped it did.

“I should go.” Hermione said in a cheerful voice, pushing the rest of her muffin towards Blaise — who, to his credit, hesitated an appropriate amount of time before starting to eat — “It should start tonight, so I’ve still got a few hours left.” 

A few more hours to convince herself she was making the right choice. 

“Do you need Harry to come by?” Ginny blinked at her. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you.”

“I’m sure he would.” Hermione frowned, wrinkling her nose at the thought. “I think Theo would mind, too.”

“I don’t think Tho would, actually.” Blaise mused through a mouthful of muffin. “He’s always liked you.”

Their voices blurred together as they started discussing the probability of her childhood best friend and his boyfriend helping her through her Heat — something Hermione did not want nor had she asked for. In fact, she had a feeling everyone involved would be miserable. Everyone but Theo, she supposed. He did like her. 

Hermione knew the pressure was out of care, but she was weary from the way her friends loved. Burdened by their thoughts about her life, trembling limbs growing heavy under the weight of their concern. 

She did her Heats alone because the other option was too much. The idea that her life could be fixed so simply by another person, was too much for her to acknowledge. It was beyond comprehension — she was her own, the bones beneath her skin the only support she’d ever need. 

That, however, didn't stop Ginny from trying. 

Hermione was opening her mouth to say something when she felt it: the shift in the air, the prickle of awareness across her neck — like waking up after a long, thick sleep. 

He was here.

Which meant she had to leave.

“I’ll send an owl once it’s over.” Hermione interrupted them, ignoring the sound her chair made as it scraped across the floor. “Love you both.”

“Hermione!” Ginny called after her, but she kept going. The door was in sight — all she had to do was leave. It was simple, beautiful and right; she would go back to her office, floo back to her flat and lock herself in her bedroom for the next three days. It would hurt to do her Heat alone (it always did), but that was the price of freedom. Her fingers closed around the handle, beginning to push the door open —

Until Draco Malfoy caught her wrist and tugged. 

A fox in a trap. Soon, the snow would bloom red with blood, leaving her body to freeze, no warmth left behind. No warmth but his own — and that was all he wanted, wasn't it? To be her only source of survival?

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

She had. 

If he entered the room, Hermione left — if he caught her eye in the Atrium, Hermione blinked and faked interest in the crown molding (very ornate!). If he called her name in the hallways, Hermione pretended not to hear. She ignored his owls, his persistent requests to schedule a meeting — once she’d seen him waiting for her out in front of her office and she’d spent her entire lunch in a storage closet, eating her chicken tikka masala on an overturned bucket.

 Hermione Granger did a very good job at pretending like Draco Malfoy did not exist. 

“I have not been avoiding you.” She hissed. They were surrounded on all sides — leave it to Ginny to pick the busiest time for her impromptu ambush — but it felt like they were the only two people in the room. And it was a dangerous thing, being alone with him. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy?”

He looked the same as he always did. Pressed suit, not a hair out of place, towering above her frame. But different, too. His breath uneven, his eyes were dark, murky with something else — something familiar. He’d looked the same that night. When her Heat had come and he had found her. Hunted her, she supposed. 

And she had let him.

“Yes.” Hermione tugged at her wrist in his grasp, but he tightened his hold. “I have a life, you know. One that is my own.”

His eyes narrowed slightly at her tone. “Am I to be expected to endure more torture?”

Fucking Draco Malfoy had been a bad idea, spending her entire Heat with him had been a mistake of massive proportions. It had ruined the careful world she had so lovingly built for herself. As soon as she had blinked back to awareness, Hermione had scrambled from Malfoy’s arms, ignoring the hurt that blossomed at the loss of his touch. Everything had felt too right, too perfect. Dangerously close to forever, which was not something Hermione could afford. “This is never happening again.” She had spat in his direction, trembling fingers searching in the darkness for her clothing.  “Hermione,” He had begun, voice warm with a kindness she didn't expect or deserve. “Please, darling  — ”

“Don’t call me that.” She hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t seen the heartbreak on his face. “Let’s pretend like this never happened, alright?” Hermione hadn’t found his bite mark until much later. It was alright, she had rationalized with herself, curled up in a ball on her living room floor, fingers heavy on her neck, tracing the shapes he had left behind. She hadn’t bit him, they weren’t bonded, they weren't mates — it was all fine. The next morning, Hermione had seen it. A set of tiny little teeth marks on his gland, precise and perfect, even when she was delirious with want. So proudly displayed, collar tugged purposefully out of the way. Then, her running had begun. And ever faithful, he had followed.

“Yes.” Hermione said, voice tight. “I’ll be out until Friday.”

“Will you need me?”

That was the worst part, his acceptance. Willing to take whatever she gave him, even if it was nothing at all. 

Draco Malfoy had steadily changed over time, like a plant finally given the opportunity to spread their roots and grow properly. Change, like rain, washed away all that once was, leaving behind someone else entirely. 

Someone willing to endure pain, just because she had decided it. 

“No.” Hermione said softly. Just being around him was enough to soothe the ache in her soul. His grip on her wrist had softened, the warmth from his touch extending across her flesh, fire catching and spreading.

Hermione forced herself to tug herself free from his grasp, inhaling slightly when his fingers trailed across her skin as she pulled away. “I’ll be alright.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said. “I highly doubt that.”

“I don’t need your help.” Hermione said. She wasn’t afraid of him. Not when she was sixteen and he’d pressed his wand against her neck in Umbrdige’s office, and certainly not now.  “I don’t belong to you.”

His fingers on her neck, brushing her curls aside; she could glamor the scars away all she liked, but he could still feel the indentation his teeth had left behind on her flesh. 

He frowned, condescending and full of fake sympathy.  “I think you do, baby.” 

Hours later, Hermione was almost ready. Her wards were tight, her floo locking behind Ron after he left, the box of premade meals he’d brought her resting happily in her fridge. There was only one thing left to do:

Poking her head out into the back garden, she found what she was looking for.

“It’s supposed to snow.”

Malfoy didn’t look up from his book. “I’m a Wizard, aren't I?”

“Wizard’s can still get hypothermia.” 

He looked up then, eyes soft. If it had been anyone else, Hermione would have thought they looked tender. “I’ll be fine.” 

“You can always go home.”

They both knew he wouldn't. 

“You know me, Granger.” Draco grinned. “I sit and stay, like all the good dogs do.”

She hovered on the edge of her doorway, watching her breath turn frosty in the night air. A storm on the horizon, promising to blow away all her neat plans. He watched her as she fidgeted. Not for the first time, Hermione wished, almost desperately, that she was born different. Born to be soft and accepting. Someone who would fall effortlessly into his outstretched hands.

She ran because she was afraid of the weight of her own feelings, terrified of what happiness could truly mean; being an Omega meant a loss of self, so she clung to her bitter solitude. Fingernails cracking from the pressure of holding herself together, a mouth full of blood from how hard she bit her tongue, preventing herself from calling out his name.

“It’s alright.” Malfoy said, cracking the silence that had swirled between them. “Go back inside. I’ll be right out here, keeping all the baddies away.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m not scared.”

“No?”

“No.” Hermione hesitated. It felt almost like carving herself apart, offering a part of herself. Trembling hands, covered in her own blood. “I have you.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, fingers tightening around the book, knuckles white. “I’ll be here.” He said. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

In the middle of the night, Hermione jerked awake. 

Stumbling blindly through the house, she found the back door. The glass was cool against her naked skin as she sagged to the floor, heaving breaths leaving her lips, trembling limbs and a pain that spread like poison, blooming across her flesh.

Draco was pressed against the other side of the door, his breath fogging up the glass. Waiting for her to come to him.

“Hi, baby.”

Fat tears were dripping down her neck, sticky and wet. “Hi.” She whispered.

She could smell him through the glass, the scent of him heavy in the air. It would be so easy to unlock the door, to welcome him inside — to sink blissfully down on his cock, swept away by the pleasure his presence provided.

But Hermione was stubborn. 

Determined to hold her breath the longest underwater, unwilling to lose any competition, even one against her own heart. 

She sank down on her fingers without hesitation, watching him as he watched her. Slick was dripping on the floor, a puddle beneath her shaking knees; uneven movements as she chased pleasure, warm flush crawling across her chest. 

“Beautiful.” Draco breathed. Snowflakes were gathering on the tips of his lashes, but he didn’t shy away from the cold. Eyes fixed and unmoving on her —  taking what she offered. “So perfect, all mine.”

Her fingers twisted inside, building pleasure “Yours.” She agreed. In moments like this, it was impossible to lie to herself. She loved him, wanted to crawl inside his ribcage and sleep until spring; she had bitten him first, after all,  licked at the blood that smeared across his neck — and like always, he had followed over the edge after her. 

Her other fingers found her clit, smearing uneven circles, jolts of pleasure almost eclipsing the pain she felt. Small whimpers escaped her lips as she rutted against her fingers, wetness spreading, unable to stop the scream she felt building in her chest — 

“That’s it.” Draco’s breath was uneven, his forehead pressed against the glass, trying to be as close as he could. “Fuck yourself open for me. I’ve got you.”

Her orgasm temporarily dulled the pain of emptiness and Hermione felt the fuzziness fade, slowly bleeding from her vision. Returning to herself, sweet clarity, only for a moment. 

Draco was breathing heavily, kneeling in the snow. 

It struck her, then, that he’d wait forever. Faithful and present, in the back garden. He belonged to her, just as much as she did to him — perhaps it wasn’t all bad, losing yourself. You gain someone else, in return. 

Hermione tugged the back door open, flinching at the cold. “Come in.”

 Draco was still kneeling, blinking up at her as if she were god, come to rejoin their creation.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a rough voice

“I am.” The snow was blowing in through her open door, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. “I don’t want to run anymore.”

“You want me?”

“I’ve always wanted you.” The words left her lips on a broken sigh. “I’m just afraid. I don’t know what this means, who I become around you. But I know that I’m afraid that you’ll leave me.”

Draco smiled, soft and slow. “You’ve fed me, baby. I’ll always come back for more.”

“I want, so desperately, to be capable of love. To love and to be loved in return. And.” She felt her breath catch in her throat. “I’m afraid that I’ll find that with you.”

“You will.” He was kneeling before her, arms open, palms facing upwards. The picture of vulnerability, willing and waiting for her to accept him. To become present, to join in at the feast. “You’ll be loved in return, I promise.”

To unequivocally belong to another. The weight of her body, held up by his waiting hands. 

“Please.” Begging, broken and crumbling before him. Like a grand ruin, left behind by time, suddenly being rediscovered. “Please, come inside.”

It was soft, the world. No sound, nothing mattered; just Draco, as he rose from the snow and crossed through her wards. His hands were cool and firm, cradling her jaw between his fingers. “I love you.” He said. “I’d love you even if you weren't mine.”

Hermione nodded, helplessly caught in his grasp. “I love you.” She breathed. “Even when I ran, I knew you’d follow. I knew you’d always come for me.”

A spasm of agony shot up her spine, twisting across her flesh. “It’s starting again.” Hermione groaned, flinching from the pain. “Draco, please —”

Draco’s fingers slid from her jaw to her throat. Holding her in place. “Shh,” He whispered along her hairline, tightening his grasp on her throat. “I know what you need, yeah? You’ll let me give it to you?”

“Yes.” 

“Do you deserve it?”

“Excuse me?” She hissed.

“It’s a simple question, baby.” She could hear the humor in his voice, feel the thickness of his cock, pressing into her back. “Do you deserve it?”

Hermione bit his arm.

“Okay.” He looked down at her, soft and warm. “I was going to be nice. I was going to fuck you on your bed. Spread you open, make you all soft for me.” She whined around his flesh and he pouted sympathetically with her, lower lip protruding. “I know, I would’ve liked that, too. Seeing your pretty little cunt, all puffy and wet, spread out on the sheets before me.”

Hermione let him go, a traitorous drop of spit connecting her lips to his arm. “I like that idea.” She said thickly. “We can do that.”

“No.” Draco smoothed his fingers along the shallow flesh of her neck, thumb pressing down hard on her gland. “Now, I have to fuck you right here on the floor.”

Hermione debated sounding too desperate. Her dripping cunt won out, in the end. “I like that idea.” She said, squirming in his grasp. It wasn't fair that he was wearing clothing and she was naked, nor was it fair that he wasn't currently inside her, making a home for himself between her thighs. “We can do that.”

His fingers slipped between her thighs, sinking inside with ease. Two, then three, twisting her open, slick dripping down his hands, smearing across the cuff of his button down shirt. “Messy.” He mused softly to himself.

Kissing him was easy, like falling asleep. She remembered how it had been last time, soft and sweet — this time, it was brutal. Draco pressed her to the floor, climbing on top of her, crushing her with his larger frame. He kissed like she’d run away from him again — if this was how he’d greet her every time, perhaps she would.

“Inside, inside, inside.” Hermione was babbling against his lips, grabby fingers pushing at his slacks. “I need your cock inside me, please.”

“I should make you wait.” He groaned as he tugged his cock free, smearing it across the sticky wetness of her cunt. “I should torture you.”

“You can.” Hermione promised, shaking fingers wrapping around his cock, dragging it closer and closer to her entrance. “You can tie me up and fuck me for days, or hunt me in the woods, whatever you want, I promise. Just fuck me now, and I’ll give you everything — ”

The push of his cock was enough to start another tremble across her limbs, spreading through her as he fucked her open, shallow thrusts. His thumb heavy on her tongue, his other hand still wrapped around her throat. 

“My girl deserves to be fucked whenever she wants.” He was whispering, teeth sharp against her ear. “You want to sit on my cock during a meeting? I’ll let you. I’ll have to kill everyone after, it’ll be terrible for business, but I’ll do it —”

Hermione gasped around his fingers. “Please,” she groaned. “I’ll be good. Please let me cum.”

Draco frowned. “Baby, it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.” She rolled her eyes, and his grip tightened slightly on her throat. “But I think you need me to fuck some sense into you.” His thrusts were deep and even, lulling her into a haze. Sticky and warm, caught in his trap. “You can’t run from me. I’ll always find what is mine.”

His cock was nudging a part inside her that had her breath catching in her throat, unable to stop the pleasure that was building. Twitching beneath him, breath tumbling from her lips in tiny gasps. Her vision blurred as she looked up at him, sharp teeth and soft eyes, watching her.

When he came, she felt the warmth spreading through her. Like sinking into a hot bath, syrupy and slow; his cock was swelling, locking them together, holding them in place.

Draco tilted his hips softly, still fucking her through his orgasm, fucking himself deeper. “One day.” He groaned, his cum slippery inside her, too much, beginning to drip out from between them. “One day, I’ll fuck a baby into you. And everyone will know how good of a mate I am, keeping you full and warm. They’ll know how perfect you are too, how good  you are at making me cum —”

Just like before, Hermione craned her neck, teeth finding the tender flesh of his neck. She bit down where she had once before, on the mark he’d never hid from — bit until her mouth filled with blood, spilling from her blood, smearing across their bodies. 

Draco moaned, latching onto her neck,biting the scared flesh until he drew blood, reclaiming her. “There.” He slurred, mouth messy and wet, cock still twitching inside her tummy. “We belong to one another.”

Twisting in his hold, Hermione smiled up at him.

[v-ternus]

where the delicate stops

Day 13+14 of Kinktober- Size and Magic

[prompts courtesy of the lovely @kroas-adtam ]

thank you to @ghoultrifle for your absolutely nasty, filthy help on this. (i hope it lives up to the hype)

Explicit | Mountain and Aeon

Summary: Aeon didn't come for slow. He didn't come for sweet. But Mountain seems intent on giving him it anyway.

warning: dubcon (the magic use)

below for your consumption :)

“Fuck me already.” He barks, tilting his head to the side and marveling at the cold fabric against his heated skin. Mountain insisted on prepping him properly, so here he lays, sprawled on his back with Mountain between his legs, the scent of evergreen washing over him and a finger barely two knuckles deep in his achingly empty hole. 

“It’ll hurt bug,” Mountain says softly as he drags a rough hand along Aeon’s flank. He’s big, in every department, and he knows it. He’s been around the block enough times to know how to make the stretch feel good– and it has to start here. He’ll drag his warm tongue against intimate skin, nipping at thighs and sensitive muscles. He could spend hours working his fingers in, petting at soft walls that clench tight when he drags against a certain spot. Time never matters, not to him, not in these moments, as long as someone ends up tied tight around his knot. He’ll give them as long as they need.

His cock hangs heavy between his strong thighs at the thought.  

“Wait a little bit more Aeon,” He says as he presses a second finger in. There’s a reverence to his words, a sense of caring worship, and Aeon wants none of it. Should’ve gone to Dew, he thinks to himself, should’ve gotten the ghoul angry.

He rolls his hips, grinding himself further onto Mountain’s fingers. He feels the pad of a third finger press in next to the first two, and his brain all but shuts off. The slightest burn from the stretch has pre welling up on the tip of his neglected cock, dripping onto his happy trail, making a mess. If he needed Mountain to hurry up earlier, he needs him to move at light speed now. He wants more, needs more. He’s desperate. 

Mountain must sense his impatience growing into frustration. 

“—Dont want to break you.” The large ghoul says, and something in Aeon snaps. He isnt usually troubled by his size. Sure, he’s built on the smaller end of things, slimmer, a little shorter than most ghouls— he’s never cared. But tonight? Mountain’s words make wrath burn hot in his chest. He’s not fragile. Not delicate. 

A quick hand moves to wrap around Mountain’s wrist, around the hand that's been teasing him all night. He pulls the hand out and groans at the loss. Temporary, he reminds himself.  A confused look sprouts on Mountain’s face, but Aeon doesnt let it stay for long. 

A tingling static blooms in Mountain’s palm. It wraps around his nerves and crawls up through his arm, over his shoulder, until it wraps around his neck, tightening around the base of his skull. It all happens so quickly, leaving him no time to get out of Aeon’s grip before they’re flipped, with Mountain flat on his back and Aeon straddling his hips– with how angry Aeon is, Mountain feels as light as a feather. 

If there wasnt a tinge of fear coursing through Mountain, he might chuckle at what this looks like– him pinned under a ghoul who can just barely spread his thighs wide enough to set himself on his lap. 

Mountain isnt used to Aeon’s magic, the numbness, and the way it creeps across every fiber of his being. It isnt quite Aether, tender and warm, and it isn't like Omega, calculated, weaving in exactly where it's needed. Aeon’s magic is wild. Stronger. Unpredictable. His heart rate quickens.

“I told you to get on with it,” Aeon drops his hips, just enough to slot his cock next to Mountain’s, and Satan below he’s never been more sheepish about his size. He knows he’s well endowed– that’s been made fact by Rain choking on him after a few really good rituals. But compared to Mountain, his cock is still a good two inches shorter.

He can barely fit his hand around when he reaches to hold them together. He uses his free hand to glide over the ruddy head of his cock before smearing the slick onto Mountain. He fucks into his straining grip, feeling Mountain throb where they’re pressed together. 

“Should’ve listened big man.” he scolds, dragging his fingertips over the head of Mountain’s cock that’s so red it's almost purple. Mountain tries to groan, to make any noise, but it's just so hard. It’s like he’s forgotten how. 

Aeon watches the light purple streaks swirling through Mountain’s glassy eyes and knows his magic has settled in fully. He knows he’s got him right where he wants him– dulled in all the right ways and putty in his hands, ready to be molded into the perfect fuck toy. 

“Gonna show you how to fuck me right,” he says as he rocks up on his knees, lining Mountain’s cock up with his tight ring. He takes a deep breath and holds it as he sinks down. A deep groan leaves his lips, followed by a drawn out ‘fuckkkkkkkk’. He remembers then, of just how big Mountain feels. He hisses, spearing himself on the generous girth. He works himself down inch by stretching inch and doesn't quit till his ass settles on Mountain’s hips. He breathes through the sensations, lost in how he’s so full he thinks it’ll kill him. 

It’s what he’s been waiting for all night. 

“Gonna fuck myself on your pretty cock Mount,” he starts a lazy pace, enjoying the way his body rushes to fit around Mountain. “Can’t believe you needed my magic to make me feel like this.”

“I’ll look for one of the older ghouls next time, maybe Omega. Or even Alpha. Anyone who’ll fill me when I ask.” Mountain tries to speak but his tongue is heavy, useless in his mouth. The way Aeon has him, he cant do anything but sit back and watch as he’s taken apart. He keeps his eyes trained to where Aeon is stretched around him– he wants to reach out and touch, run his thumb against the stretched out rim. 

Aeon slams himself down and it feels like the world has knocked the breath out of him- he swears he can feel Mountain in his throat at this point. 

Aeon leans back, planting his hands on the tops of Mountain’s thick thighs, barely covering the muscle as he puts himself on display. The new angle bounces his cock against his stomach, and Mountain’s eyes move to watch. He works his sight over the expanse of the ghoul, he marvels at the lines of his body, the slight hint of muscle on his chest, the rise and fall of his ribs with his breath, the lithe torso, and oh–. 

Him

Just under Aeon’s belly button, a foreign bump pokes through, rising and falling in sync with his bounces– him. 

Mountain manages to mewl, loving how he fills him so well, but powerless to touch, to feel. Mountain can't press a hand down and feel each stroke move through him. He could cry, and with the way he’s choking on his breath, he thinks he just might. 

Aeon, sensing distress, decides to dig his fingers in even more, sending more of his magic into Mountain. This time, it burns, carves him from the inside out, etches into his bones. It borders on too much. His skin starts to feel itchy, like he’s meant to grow out of it. Tears pool in the corners of his eyes. 

“Can you see yourself in there?” It's a teasing question, he knows Mountain can't answer, but his cock kicks, his own silent form of yes. Mountain’s distress only gets him harder. Aeon’s hand drifts to press down on the bulge, making himself whine, high and reedy.  

“Wish you’d just given it to me like this,” Aeon settles, knees aching from the insistent bouncing. He rolls his hips instead, somehow working himself further and further onto Mountain’s length each time, feeling that familiar bump at the base grow with each passing moment. 

Each slick glide around his cock has Mountain’s brain melting out of his ears. His eyes go frantic, blinking and shifting at random patterns. His mind screams for release, a repeating mantra of ‘Please, I need to cum. –m sorry, please” echoing in his head.

Aeon can hear him of course, he’s known everything in Mountain’s head since he first doped him up, but his pleading makes no difference. Aeon is only going to let him cum for his own pleasure. 

“Gonna get myself stuck on your knot Mount,” He reaches his other hand forward and wraps his sly fingers around his cock. He’s nice and slick, timing each roll of his hips with a stroke of his hand and it has him right on the edge. The muscles in Mountain’s stomach tighten, fire ripping through his body. Aeon grips around his own full knot and it's all he needs to slam himself onto Mountain’s. 

Milky white ropes shoot over Mountain’s skin, nestling into his happy trail, filling his navel. Aeon thumbs at the space right under the head, milking himself dry but still barely coating the ghoul beneath him.

Mountain thinks he blacked out. He must’ve. Cause now, Aeon lays prone on his chest, spreading the sticky mess of his spend between them and pressing his cock into the softness of his stomach. He’s still lazily grinding his hips, tugging on Mountain’s knot each time, clenching around his sensitive cock. He can't push him off, can't get him to stop, and it's too much. The tears that he’s managed to hold back finally fall. 

Aeon gives a pleased hum against his chest, placing a quick kiss to the flush skin before tilting his head up, sticking out his tongue to lap at the salty streaks as they work their way down Mountain’s face. 

“Thanks big guy.”

[vex-bittys]

Bittyswap (part 27)

My version of Bittyswap involves full-sized bittybones (and other monsters) living in the Underground and getting miniature humans as pets.

———-

Cherry's severe anxiety ruled him out as our food fetcher, and Lil Bro declared that he'd met his activity quota for the month. Yanyan couldn't be bothered with menial tasks like lifting and carrying, nor could he be seen in a lowbrow location like Grillby’s. That left the task of gathering our meals to fall upon Cap's broad and hopefully capable shoulders. It also meant that I would be going to Grillby’s since Cap took his job as my caretaker so seriously that he refused to let me out of his sight again. 

I don't blame him. If my “pet” trashed my kitchen so badly that the entire worldly concept of breakfast suffered a critical hit, I wouldn't leave them unsupervised either. Brassberry never took me to Grillby’s with him though because the Snowdin Royal Guard frequented the establishment. Nobody else seemed concerned, but I couldn't help wondering if this was a good idea (says the human!bitty who thought a homemade pancake breakfast was a good idea).

Gathering everyone's order became another ordeal in our fraught-with-peril quest to just have a meal today since each skeleton had specific requests, and each of his housemates felt the need to pass commentary on those requests.

Cherry asked for the Junior Grillby’s Special with extra mustard on the burger and fries, which was met with a chorus of indignation and outrage. I added a tiny “eww” under my breath. Mustard is gross, but I didn't want Cherry to feel bad. Hopefully someone else would order something that I could nibble off of. Lil Bro dashed those hopes when he spoke up next. He wanted the Grillby’s Special with, of all things, honey slathered on the burger and fries.

“Degenerate,” hissed Yanyan.

"Gross,” Cap said, making an exaggerated gagging sound.

“Why?” cried a distraught Cherry.

I just gave my best Neutral Face of Displeasure but said nothing. Maybe Yanyan would share his food with me. He had impeccable taste… except when it came to burgers and fries apparently. 

Before Yanyan told us what he wanted, he launched into a lengthy tirade about the quality of any establishment that didn't serve Glamburgers. To Yanyan, the Glamburger (which I'd never even heard of) was the pinnacle of branded gourmet cuisine, unrivaled by anything that came out of the cut-rate grease trap next door. I assume he meant Grillby’s. Yanyan took a moment to collect himself from the emotional distress of not getting a Glamburger and dictated a long and complicated order to us with special requests for things like kale, tofurkey, vegan cheese, and sprouted chia seed buns. I looked around, sure that the haughty skeleton was joking, but the other housemates were just sighing and rolling their eyelights.

Tofurkey is a real thing? What the heck is it? Toes? Fur? Keys?! I grew more alarmed the more I considered the possibilities, and I hadn't even thought about the other ingredients yet!

“you're really gonna waste a trip to Grillby’s on health food?” Lil Bro asked,  scornful. Ah, healthy foods. Antioxidants and Omega-3s and superfoods and whatnot. I know nothing about health-conscious options; I am all about flavor with the curves to prove it. You couldn't change Yanyan's mind by mocking him though. A person needed tact and an appeal to the skeleton’s ego for that.

“You're already so slender, Yanyan. Isn't kale and-” I struggled to remember the words he'd used. “-tofurkey for people who are on diets?”

Yanyan preened at the compliment, just like I knew he would. “I WOULDN'T WANT ANYONE TO THINK I NEED TO DIET. I GUESS I'LL GET THE SPECIAL.” Finally, food that I can actually eat with no weird add-ons! “WITH EXTRA GLITTER ON THE BURGER AND FRIES!”

Dammit!

I couldn't count on Brassberry, asleep or not, to choose something normal. His usual consisted of a Grillby’s Special double with steak fries. This might seem normal for a monster who prides himself on being tough and macho, even if the fries are thick cut potatoes and not actual meat. The problem is what he does to the aforementioned food. He absolutely saturates it in appalling amounts of ketchup. 

Cap was my only hope to finally get a taste of non-ketchup-flavored food from the Underground's famous Grillby’s Bar and Grill. I believed in him, but I got a bit less confident and a lot more nervous when Cap placed me carefully against his cervical vertebrae and tucked a warm scarf around me. I usually rode around in Brassy's pocket, safely hidden from sight. Sure, I could enjoy the view from Cap's mountainous height, but any monster we passed could easily spot me.

I felt exposed, despite burrowing down into my little scarf nest. Maybe Grillby’s, a popular hangout and restaurant destination, would be totally empty during the lunch rush? A very small and vulnerable girl can hope.

“Make sure nothing happens to our human!bitty,” Yanyan called to us as we stepped outside, which isn't at all ominous. I watched the door close on him, flanked on either side by Lil Bro and Cherry who nodded their agreement to ensuring my safety against dangers unknown (to me anyway).

I was now alone with Cap in the big, wide dangerous world of Snowdin, and all I could think of was that I'd been upgraded from vermin to pest to Brassy's pet to their human!bitty.

READ ON AO3

PREV | INDEX | NEXT

[ghostfives]

Werewolf pup omega and werewolf bad batch it is then.

Secrets kept

Hunter growls as he and the batch head off the ship, looking around. Omega is asleep in the back and it’s just them, so it’s time to finally let loose and be what they are. Werewolves.

The batch have been werewolves since shortly after Echo had joined, when a mission went wrong and Wrecker got bit. Then he bit all of them.

Now this was their new norm, and they actually enjoyed it until Omega… they can’t lose her. And if she sees the monsters they are, then this won’t end well.

“Okay boys, only an hour. Let’s do this.” Hunter smiles as he steps out in the moonlight, letting the transformation take hold.

“Awww.” Wrecker pouts as he steps out to and grunts, feeling his bones rearrange as fur sprouts all over his body.

“Can’t scare… Omega.” Echo growls, his cybernetics off and he replaces them with his werewolf ones.

Crosshair grins and stretches. “Has been way too long.”

Once they are fully transformed, Tech stretches. “We need to hurry, let’s catch a meal.” He says, voice deeper as he pulls his goggles over his eyes.

“Let’s go!” Wrecker goes running, letting out a howl.

Hunter sighs softly, chuckling and running after him as he howls, followed by his brothers. This will be good.

xxx

Omega whines as she transforms, and crawls out of the marauder. She needs food, she hasn’t had raw meat or transformed in weeks. She hopes her brothers don’t come back soon, as she runs off.

Omega sniffs the air, smiling as she smells a nice rabbit. She goes running. This is the first time she’s hunted that’s not in an enclosed environment that Nala Se created, and it feels wonderful! The wind in her fur, the dirt on her paws! All the amazing scents in the air, it’s the best thing ever!

Omega lets out a happy howl without thinking, and that’s when she hears it. Somethings running towards her, and she lets out a yelp as she sees a large werewolf run towards her and freeze. It stares at her before sniffing the air.

Omega whines, and whimpers as four other werewolves come running with the first and they all just stare.

“A pup?” One asks softly. “How…”

“Omega!?” The first one asks.

Omega whimpers, backing away.

“No, Omega don’t-“

Omega goes running, as fast as she can back to the ship. She’s too scared to transform back so she just has to hope for the best. Hope that her brothers don’t check on her.

She quickly hides in her little room, curling up with her Trooper doll and Lula as she whines softly. She’s starving for fresh meat, but she’s not getting any of it.

xxx

Omegas ears wiggle as she hears the door open, and her heart thumps hard in her chest. She’s so scared, but… something wrong. The footsteps sound heavier?

“Omega?”

Omega whimpers, that’s the same voice as before and her ears press back tightly in fear. Her tail tucks between her legs, and she listens as the footsteps stop right outside her room.

“Omega, it’s Hunter, honey.” The deep voice says, and honestly… it does sound like Hunter.

Omega hiccups. “No! Hunters not a monster!”

“Oh Omega, you’re not a monster. You’re a scared little girl. I promise, it’s me. Remember when you called me Buir two weeks ago? No one else knew that.” The wolf says.

Omega gasps, whining. “Hunter?”

“Yes baby girl.” Suddenly two furry arms come in and pulls her close to an equally furry chest. “I’ve got you, little one. I’m here.”

Omega sobs. “Buir!” She curls close. “The… other werewolves?”

“Our family is all werewolves.” Hunter hums softly. “Want to come see everyone?” He asks softly, wanting to give Omega the choice. She deserves that.

Omega sniffles, but nods bravely.

Hunter grins and heads outside, Tech, Echo and Crosshair all sitting around a fire.

“Hey kid!” Crosshair smiles. “You are so cute!”

Omega smiles and slides out of Hunters arms, running over and sniffing Crosshair. “You’re like me?” She asks, eyes full of hope.

“Yes we are.” Crosshair smiles and nuzzles her.

Echo comes over too her. “Oh kiddo.” He coos and licks her head, before sniffling her and giving a gentle grooming.

Omega rumbles happily and her tail wags behind her. “What’s that?” She asks softly.

“This is grooming, parents do it to their young. And since we are your parents in every sense of the word but biological, then it is our job to do these things.” Tech hums, adjusting his goggles and coming over. “And you, our pup, need a grooming.” He licks gee face, getting a giggle.

“Omega! I got ya good!” Wrecker says, mouth full as he runs out and drops the rabbit at her feet.

Omega smiles and digs in.

Hunter smiles as he and his brothers sit together, watching their Pup eat her fill. They never could have imagined that this would have happened, but they’re happy to have their Pup, no matter what.

Once Omega is full, she yawns and stretches out. Then she gasps as she’s picked up in Crosshairs mouth, and moved up where the other Wolves are making a nest out of blankets. She’s sat down and then cuddles between them all.

“Goodnight, Pup.” Hunter coos, nuzzling her.

Omega smiles, yawning and curling into Hunter. She’s the happiest she’s ever been, and it’s all because of her five werewolf dads. Life can’t get better.

[moorishflower]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @landwriter for the tag <3<3<3 Answers under the cut!

How many works do you have on Ao3? 227!

What's your total Ao3 word count? I broken two million this year! :)

What fandoms do you write for? I guess you'd say my "main" fandom is still The Sandman, because that's what really started me writing again, but I'll write for any piece of media that inspires me. I've written for The Terror, the D&D movie, Dungeon Meshi, Supernatural, Sherlock, and Homestuck at various points.

Top five fics by kudos: 1. aulon raid - In which no neonazis are allowed in the New Inn. 2. Curse of the Green Hag - The one where Xenk Yendar is cursed by a hag and he and Edgin have to fuck about it. 3. Ecdysis - Undressing and armor and bathing. 4. That I Should Wedded-Be - This was my first attempt at something longer. It's definitely not one of my better ones at this point but it was one of the first ones so it has a lot more kudos. 5. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow - The one where Hob fucks Dream on his desk.

Do you respond to comments? I would really like to, but I find that I often don't have the energy, and because I want every response to be unique and thoughtful and just for that person, it means that I feel really bad if I give a simple "thanks!" and nothing else. Inevitably the bad feeling of not responding in a meaningful way outweighs the good feeling of getting the comment, so now I really only respond to comments if they address me directly or ask a question.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? the long way down maybe? It has a more open "hopeful" ending. I don't usually let things end on a low note!

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hallmark-Adjacent, I think. Literally ends like a Hallmark movie lol.

Do you get hate on fics? Once or twice it's happened. If it's happened since then I haven't been aware of it. I'm sure a lot of conversation goes on in like, discord channels and such that I don't follow. I'm not particularly interested in debating with people about the intentions or morality of my writing. I try to be as authentic and inclusive and respectful as the setting and story allow me to be, but I'm also human and fallible. *shrug* I grow and learn more every day. Expecting perfection from people is an exercise in frustration and futility.

Do you write smut?

yeh

Craziest crossover: Wrote a BBC Sherlock/Homestuck fusion. That was fun.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of. If it was like Cocoon or Maybe sprout wings I think I'd be really upset about it because I put so much into those, but I don't know if I'd feel particularly devastated if it was anything else. BSN, maybe. I mean it would suck? That's a shitty thing to do, but also, you're not earning any real clout or money by doing it, lol.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! A number of my fics have been translated, mostly into Russian (thanks chainsmoking and Bonniemary!), and one into Spanish (thanks Dhixi!). I'm incredibly flattered every time someone takes the time and effort to do a translation. It's an incredible art.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, though not recently.

All time favourite ship? Listen I write so much for Sandman but truthfully? Mulder/Scully. Alpha and omega ship. Don't know if anything will ever compare.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? At this point, The Whole of Love Contained is so far removed from my current writing style that I would have to restart from scratch, I think. I'm not counting it out forever, but there are other ideas I've had that I'm more interested in pursuing first.

What are your writing strengths? I really like sentence construction. The flow of it. How you can use punctuation to make it stop -- and then carry on, giving it purposeful structure. I've been told I have a talent for inserting life-altering sentences into the middle of things so that they hit you like a punch. Idk I'm bad at listing my own strengths. I like to research things a lot?

What are your writing weaknesses? Pacing, definitely, and action scenes. I always feel like my action scenes have low-stakes feel to them. And dialogue. I think a lot of people struggle to write realistic dialogue, though, so that might not just be me. Keeping the momentum going. Sometimes I'll be so focused on reaching one specific scene that I'll lose track of how to actually get there, and I'll stall out. I feel like I have a lot more weaknesses but I struggle to articulate them beyond a sense of deep dissatisfaction with my own writing, especially in comparison with other writers whom I greatly admire. I feel often like I'm churning out things that are easily-digestible and entertaining, but not necessarily meaningful, or not conveying what I would like them to do. Logically I know that "entertaining" is a value unto itself, and nothing to scoff at, but still. The writer's hubris, maybe.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Kind of depends on what you're using it for, I suppose. I tend to stick with one narrator's POV, so it can be useful if the narrator doesn't speak that language, but we, as the readers, can pop the sentence into translate and get the gist. I tend to use that sparingly as a gimmick, though, because I'm not multilingual except in the very most basic of terms and I prefer being correct to being aesthetic, lol.

First fandom you wrote in? If you want to be technical, it was Harry Potter. But the first fandom I wrote seriously for was Heroes.

Favourite fic you've written? I'm still proudest of Maybe sprout wings. Not sure if I'll ever write something like that again, where so much of it just felt right. And it got a compliment from a writer I admired very much in Homestuck fandom, so I reckon I did something right with it.

I'll tag @arialerendeair and @dsudis because I know you've both been in fandom for a while and I want to hear your stats <3

[thelampisaflashlight]

Blood Rite

[Local man learns he's hellspawn, gets told how to treat a rash. More at 11. I always say I'm not gonna make more OCs, but then Casey just kind of happened. Some mentions of throwing up, and alcohol. The other title for this, jokingly, is, "TFW your parents had a three way with the devil and now you exist", because, yeah. Yeah, I decided to take the low ground today. Also Omega's there.] Below the cut.

How it happened, no one is entirely sure, and the ones who might have known had long since passed on from this Earth, taking their secrets with them without giving so much as a warning to the following generations, because why would they?

The answer, regardless of reason, is usually simple; Greed.

Someone's great-great-great something or other makes a deal with the devil in exchange for a bit of money or fame, or some other bullshit, and gets told it'll come back to bite them at some point, but that's not their problem.

It might not even be their children's problem, or their grandkids, no.

No, it's usually Joe Schmo picking up the accursed tab, and Casey Krane is, unfortunately, the damned sucker dealing with his predecessors' poor decisions.

It started off small; Little headaches now and then that could be staved off by drinking water.

But then came the full body aches, which, again, only seemed to be soothed by water.

Every day it seemed like he needed just a little bit more time, just a little bit more water to drink, until it was almost impossible to pull him from it.

Of course, any time he visited the doctor, they told him he was fine.

Time and time again, even after seeking second, third, and fourth opinions, it seemed as if nothing was wrong with him at all.

...And then two lumps appeared on his forehead.

They weren't massive, but they were definitely there, and growing more obvious by the day.

That had warranted some further investigation... which got nowhere.

"They're known as cutaneous horns." one doctor had explained, "Essentially, you have a large build up of keratin, and as a result, you're developing conical growths on your forehead. Thankfully, they usually harmless, and can be removed. We'll do a biopsy to make sure everything else is fine, and you should be just fine."

"Will they grow back?" he'd asked, relieved that this little problem might soon be over.

"It's not impossible, but it's unlikely."

Unlikely.

Yeah, if Casey had been a gambling man, he probably would have looked at those odds and folded right then and there, because apparently "unlikely" means, "very likely" when it comes to this particular problem of his.

Cutting back the horns had kept them from reemerging for a couple weeks, but when he'd woken up from a nap one afternoon, he'd wandered into the bathroom, and, well...

"...Why the fuck are they larger?"

And just when he didn't think it could get weirder-

"THE FUCK IS THAT?!"

-he'd sprouted a goddamned tail.

So to answer the question: How did this all happen?

Truth be told, Casey wishes it was some stupid curse resulting from some distant ancestors want for money and power, but no.

No, the answer was, in his words...

"Fucking stupid."

Sitting down with his parents for, ironically, Sunday brunch after they'd returned from church, his mother had tearfully spilled the truth; She'd had an affair... with a demon.

At a lost for words, Casey had elected to slam his head down on the table, but then, as his father began to explain, "Actually, the two of us slept with-"

"OH MY FUCKING GOD-"

Needless to say, hearing about his parents' three-way with fuckin', Beelzebub or whoever the hell the hooved bastard was, on top of... everything else... had sent him into quite the tizzy.

Which leads us to now.

To this.

Whatever THIS is.

"-I can understand your confusion, this is all a lot to take in, but, we really are just here to help." The towering wall of a man standing in his living room had said, "What you're experiencing is perfectly natural for a ghoul your age."

"...A fucking what."

The man looks between Casey and his parents.

"Whoo-boy..."

.

.

.

"So why Sweden?"

"Mn?" Omega hums, glancing over at the young man sat beside him in the church's passenger van, "What do you mean?"

Casey gestures out the window at the passing countryside, "Why are we here?"

"Oh! ...Familiarity, I suppose, the ghoul says, then clarifies, "For myself that is. For you... a change of scenery."

The other's nose twitches and he sniffs dismissively before leaning on his palm, "...Cool, cool..."

Omega draws his mouth into a line and thinks for a moment before speaking again.

"...You know you can talk to me, yes? I can tell you're thinking very hard about something, and I can only guess as to what."

"...This all feels really cliché." Casey admits, and Omega can't help but snort -though he composes himself quickly and plays it off as a cough- directing his gaze out the window, "There's, like, a thousand and one stories like this where someone gets dragged from their ordinary life into something... fantastical. I guess I'm having a hard time believing any of this is real, and, honestly, I have half a mind to think this is all some elaborate practical joke to make me look like an idiot."

"For all I know, I'm in a room somewhere being monitored 24/7..." he continues, giving Omega a sideways glance, "...Could you give me some reason to believe that's not what's happening here?"

Without hesitation, Omega jabs Casey's arm with one of his nails, eliciting a yelp from the younger man.

"Ow! I meant, like, tell me I'm not imagining everything, not stab me!"

"This seemed easier and more to the, uh, point." he chuckles, "But, no, you're not imagining this. Clichés have to come from somewhere, and you, whether you believe it or not, have landed yourself right in one."

Casey rubs his arm.

"Does that actually hurt?" Omega asks, feeling at least a little guilty.

"Nah, it's whatever..."

"Those concerns aside, is there anything else you're wondering about?"

Casey leans back in his seat and shrugs.

"Think I got all of that out of my system at the airport... along with a couple other things."

Omega shudders, recalling the "incident" in the waiting area.

"Had the church not made the arrangements ahead of time, I'm fairly certain they wouldn't have let you on the plane after what happened..."

Casey tilts his head back.

"I think the last time I threw up that much, I drank this stuff called White Claw Surge, and I didn't realize they were, like, twice the alcohol content of regular seltzers..." he makes a sweeping gesture with his hand, "...'s'why I don't drink anymore. Fuckin' thought I was dying."

"...Did you used to drink a lot before?" Omega asks, not really looking to pry, so much as hoping to make conversation.

"Kind of, yeah." he says, "But, like, that's just kind of how it is back home."

"Just a part of the 'culture', ya know? Especially when you do the kind of work I do... did."

"You mentioned working on a farm before..." Omega leads, "...but you're currently unemployed, is that correct?"

Casey shoots him a glare, but there's no real heat there, only a strange... sadness Omega's not sure he can unpack in the length of one car ride.

He makes a mental note to address the issue at a later date, for now, he switches topics.

"I'm sort of in the same boat." he offers, "Sort of. I retired some years ago from my original position, but now I work fulltime as an advocate for individuals such as yourself. I went through something similar when I was young and new to all of this, though at the time there wasn't an outreach program, it was actually only established about a decade or so ago."

"...How'd you guys even find me? Is there a hotline for this shit that my parents could just call whenever-"

"..." the ghoul bites his lip, "...How would you feel if I said yes?"

"OH MY FUCKING GOD-"

"Language!" Omega hisses, covering his ears, "Ouch... but, yes, there was a way for them to contact the church about this... However, beyond calling the ministry's main office, the only way to verify a claim of demonic inheritance is, well... medical records."

"...You guys have access to my medical files??" Casey squeaks indignantly, "What the fuck??"

"Now I know that sounds bad-"

"Sounds bad?? That is bad! That's a huge invasion of privacy-" his eyes widen. "-Does that mean you know about my-"

Omega stares pointedly out the window, "-Oh, why would you look at that! A cow! How marvelous!"

Casey places his head in his hands.

"Oh my fucking god..."

"Without confessing to anything, uh, dubiously legal, I can say that, were you to have a rash -hypothetically speaking- any dandruff shampoo containing selenium sulfide, applied directly to the affected areas and left to sit on the skin for ten to fifteen minutes daily, along with proper hygiene should-"

"...Yeah, no, forget what I said earlier, I know this has to be a fucking nightmare." Casey wiggles the handle on the door, but finds it locked, and -upon making eye contact with the driver, who stares back wearily- instead settles for thumping his head against the window, "...What shampoos would you recommend...?"

"...I already put some in your bathroom."

"Fucking fantastic."

[19catsncounting]

Made moodboards for the WIPs that keep sprouting.

The Devil's Ranch - an AU where the Winchester brothers run an angel sanctuary out in East Texas, taking in guardian, farm, and pet angels who have all been surrendered and often mistreated, and all have at least once been named some variation of 'Bastard' or 'Devil.' The newest angel to arrive, a former blue ribbon pageant angel once worth millions, has the tallest stack of paperwork and the cruelest and most prideful streak of distemper Sam has ever seen. But, from the scars he sees and the illegal wing mutilation he suspects, he thinks there's more to the story than the paperwork says about Lucifer's fall from grace. [3k+]

Heal the Rot - Season 11 rewrite (with canon divergence from the end of Season 8) where Lucifer and Michael are both thrown from the cage and anchored to Earth as a result of Metatron's spell. However, both have amnesia as a result of the cage's design fighting the power of the spell. Michael is discovered in Adam's vessel, and tries to put his life back together after spending 8 years in a fugue state after the brutal murder of his mother, despite vague, insistent and senseless feelings that he has a father, and brothers that he has left behind. Lucifer, being vessel-less, was infused with shards of Sam's broken soul when he was pulled from the cage and so believes that he is a hunter, with fragmented memories that eventually bring him to Sioux Falls and Jody Mills, where he builds a home and finds a measure of contentment and peace. But, when the Mark is destroyed and Amara is freed, the last two archangels have to work together to protect the entirety of existence. And it's going poorly... [fragments adding up to 8k]

Red Eyes in The Holler - (Cryptid ABO AU) Sam Winchester is trying to survive the kind of horror story every omega is warned about. His partner planned a trip to a remote cabin off the Appalachian trail, and then tampered with his suppressants. In a fit of fury at the betrayal, Sam ran off into the woods, and quickly found out how lost a college kid from the city can get. But, before his shitty partner manages to find him, a weird guy with a soft, inviting voice asks what he's doing out in his backyard. Sam might've heard the phrase - 'the devil you know is better than the devil you don't' - but when the guy says that Sam would be safer at his place, just for the night, Sam believes him. [It's all in the mind palace but Trust Me It's Good...]

Sheherazade - After spending millions of years frozen and locked in a silent void in the cage, Lucifer receives an unexpected visitor - Death - who offers an alternative setting to wait for the apocalypse. Lucifer is allowed to leave the cage, but all of their power remains locked inside, and the archangel is only allowed to wander the earth like a lost soul, or take a consenting vessel. Through the ages, Lucifer manages small-scale slaughter, but lives and dies thousands and thousands of times, slowly realizing the truth about humanity and themselves and what God has truly done to them. By the time that Sam Winchester is born, Lucifer wants to avoid the fated battle between themselves and Michael at almost any cost, to take the only victory from God that they can strip from Him and force a real, deserved conversation. But, the battle is still fated, and no matter how hard she, living in the offered life of Jessica Lee Moore, or Sam fight it, it seems like every step leads them in the same direction - where God has ordained their paths to lead. [11k, split evenly between a Season 5x03 starting point and a pilot rewrite]

[not-poignant]

Hey! I got into your work recently, with Falling Falling Stars (which I adore!!), and quickly jumped into Underline the Black. I was shocked to see Dr. Gary shift to being the main love interest, but I was engaged in seeing this new dynamic with him and Efnisien. Two questions: 1. Gary feels like a different character than in FFS, and I'm wondering what were the sprouts in character traits in FFS tht you expanded in UtB? 2.What would Arden be like in UtB? (Srry if u've answered b4)

Hi anon!

I'm so glad you enjoyed Falling Falling Stars! Funny fact about that, my beta and I actually shipped Gary and Efnisien really hard in the first few chapters, but I knew they weren't end-game and it had to stay professional, so we kind of back-burnered it for over year and then Underline the Black was born.

So we actually saw the huge, huge potential for chemistry even then. Some of the readers did too, and there are actually some comments in the first and second chapters where Dr Gary is present, where people talk about their chemistry and/or shipping them. And some continue to do so as the story goes on!

As for the sprouts, I genuinely feel there are far more similarities between Dr Gary from FFS and Gary from UtB than differences, so I'll just start listing em out.

Both doctors of niche psychology that most psychologists don't really want to go into and/or specialise in.

Both CEOs of Hillview

Both controlling in their personal lives

Both extremely private people who reveal almost nothing about their personal life by preference (this is not just Dr Gary's job in FFS, he's the same with Mika in The Moon is Down).

Both familiar with BDSM and kink

Both enjoy prodding and poking at a person and even deliberately provoking discomfort in them verbally.

Both enjoy trouble-shooting complex issues, but sometimes have significant blind spots and/or become so focused on one thing they miss another.

Both are quick to apologise when they recognise they've done something wrong, and naturally seek to repair a situation

Both are semi-competitive with their colleagues, but also friendly with them.

Both are highly professional, and will use that professionalism as a front to hide their true feelings about a situation.

Both feel extremely strong bursts of empathy or compassion.

Both have a golden retriever named Polly (Efnisien tries to break the glass in the photo of Polly in FFS - this is the scene where Gary says it's Perspex).

Both have practice dealing with volatile situations and people.

Both enjoy topping / dominating others in the bedroom (though they do have other styles, the biggest departure is here, because Gary is a peak alpha in one story and just a tired person in the other).

Both overwork extremely and;

Both need Efnisien to learn how to work more realistic hours for their health.

Both are friends with Henton (and are betrayed by him)

Both prefer structured forms of support rather than spontaneously reaching out for support, though Dr Gary in FFS is more mature here than Gary in UtB is.

Both dress the same way

Both have the same style of talking, and the same way of framing thoughts when they speak.

Both dislike disruptions to their personal life.

Both are very zen about the fact that 'bad things happen in the world' which gives them an unusually large capacity to work in fields where other mental health professionals often don't want to work (omega rehabilitation sciences for Gary in UtB and aberrant juvenile psychology in FFS)

Both have a laconic and dry sense of humour and are not frequently prone to outbursts of emotion or laughter.

Despite being quite 'closed in' on the surface, both can be quite transparent about their emotional state, but not often in a very labile way. So they will calmly state they are sad while feeling sad, instead of tearfully stating it.

I could go on and on and on anon, but to me, you can see that I pretty much see the main departure as being purely biological/hormonal re: Gary being a peak alpha and the changes that have had to happen along that strata.

Otherwise to me, they are both very much Gary!

As for Arden, I suspect he'd be a beta dominant probably living the same kind of life he's living now in FFS!