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bandgie · 10 months ago

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All For You | Armageddon Event

Request: Charity | Seo Changbin & Lee Yongbok (SKZ) by anon song!

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, pussy eating, mxm themes, 3some, double penetration (brief) boobs/nipple play, hair pulling (m!), brief handjob, cum eating (brief)

1.9k words

Dinner is still hot. The smell of cooked meat and kimchi infiltrates your nose. It should make your stomach growl and your mouth salivate. Yet, the reason for your hunger and drooling is not because of dinner at all. It’s the two men, your two lovers, that draw such reactions from you.

It’s quite a juxtaposition to see blonde hair and black hair side-by-side. The tops of their head move concurrently between your legs. You can feel how their tongue mingle and mix while suckling on your clit. Their lips smack and kiss over every inch of your cunt. It makes you arch off the couch just slightly.

“Mmm, just like that.” You intertwine your fingers in their hair. The men hum, vibrating your clit almost like a toy. You let a whimper, bucking your hips from the sensation before their hands grip each hip, putting you back down on the couch.

Felix’s lower half is soaked. You can see how it glistens when he pulls away, letting Changbin take your pussy whole in his mouth. “Just lay still for us.” His deep voice sends shivers throughout your body. “We’ll get you there. There’s no rush.”

You don’t argue with him, nodding obediently.

Now with more access to you, Changbin doesn’t hold back in sucking you between his lips. He takes your clit into his mouth eagerly, bobbing his head just the slightest while his tongue laps over you.

You can feel how their hold strengthens on your ass as if you might try and grind into the air again, but you manage to keep yourself planted onto the cushions while Changbin pulls on your bundle of nerves.

Instead, you twitch. Your thighs tremble and you tug much harder on Changbin’s hair.

He lets out a yelp. The pull caused him to pop off your cunt with a wet sound. His unfocused eyes finally settle on you and you babble to apologies. “I-I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, Binnie. It just felt so good and-”

He smiles, his wet chin shining proudly. “It’s okay, bubba. It didn’t hurt, I promise. You can pull as much as you like if it makes you feel better.”

Felix giggles, runnung his hand through Changbin’s curly hair and looking at him fondly.

“You’re so cool, hyung.”

Now Changbin blushes, his lips turning downward into his signature shy smile. “Come help your cool hyung eat this pretty pussy, Yongbok.” Felix chuckles again, adjusting his knees until he’s beside Changbin. You watch his pink tongue push through his lips, but just before he gets a lick in, his warm eyes lock with yours.

“Do you want both of us to taste you, baby?” Felix's small fingers kneed your inner thigh. “Is this what you want?”

You’ll take anything they give you and more. Changbin’s plush lips already feel so good on you, his tongue swiping down to collect your arousal and smear it on your clit. It would be hard to get him to share, you think. Changbin likes eating diligently and eagerly licking his plate clean. He’d make some room for Felix if you asked, but you’re quite content with one mouth on your cunt.

Even then, you don’t want to deter Felix from what he wants to do either. “What do you want, Lixie?”

The groan Changbin lets out in your folds matches Felix’s. “Nuh-uh, don’t do that. Tonight’s about you. Not me or Changbin. It’s okay to tell us what you want.”

Tonight has been all about you. The now-cold dinner is your favorite. The homemade brownies in the oven are for you. Since you woke up, your boyfriends have been more doting than ever. Just because, they told you when you asked why.

Just because.

You feel like you don’t deserve them in the slightest, but as Felix patiently waits for your answer while kissing up and down your thigh, you feel like you belong.

The shirt is already ridden up just below the curve of your breasts, but you pull up the material even more to expose your bare chest. You move your hands to grope the flesh of your tits, pushing them together and pinching your nipples between your fingers.

“C-can you kiss me here?” Despite them seeing you naked countless times, you can’t help the stuttering. And despite those amount of times, Felix’s eyes still widen and Changbin sucks a little harder at the sight of your boobs.

Felix is next to you in a flash. His hips press against your own while he curls his legs on the couch. One hand holds your breast and the other wraps behind your back to bring you closer.

“Of course, baby.” Felix leans his head and brushes his lips against your bud. “I can kiss you anywhere.”

You hum appreciatively, placing your hands down into their hair. Felix is always tender with you, opting to press chaste kisses to your breasts. He focuses everywhere but your hardened nipple. The warmth of his mouth makes you buck into Changbin’s who happily widens his jaw.

Felix sucks just above the curve of your breast, turning the skin a pretty pink before it will inevitably darken to a purple hue. The way his tongue laps over your skin has you mewling. A soft sound that makes Felix suck a little harder.

Then he kisses down, down until he finally catches your bud between his lips. With circular movements of his head, Felix runs it over his soft lips. It feels so good, so gentle that you feel yourself gush in Changbin’s mouth.

Your strong lover greedily moans. The wet sound of your cunt and mouth mingling is almost as loud as your whimpers. Felix gets the cue to take your nipple in his mouth, opening his jaw to try and fit your breast in his mouth.

And when he sucks in correspondence with Changbin, your eyes roll back. Your hips can’t stay planted on the couch anymore that your orgasm builds. Changbin’s head moves with you, keeping his mouth stuck where he belongs.

“F-fuck!” You pull on Felix’s long hair. “Making me feel so good.”

You can feel how Felix smiles against your skin. Hear how Changbin whines affectionately.

Pulling on Felix’s hair suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. You trail your hand lower until you catch his erection underneath his sweats.

“Mmm. So hard.” You palm him, feeling how his tongue swirling on your nipple stutters from your ministrations. He releases your bud and places a kiss on the hickey forming.

“You don’t have to do that.” Felix uses a hand to gently push yours away. “We want to focus on you.”

“But-but you’re so hard. You’re both so hard.” Even if you can’t see Changbin’s lower half, you know he’s humping the bottom of the couch from how his body jolts and shudders. “I want to.”

This catches their attention. Even Changbin, who could mostly likely cum from your taste alone, raises an eyebrow and hesitantly pulls from your cunt. “Want to what?

Rather than telling them, you show them. Your shaky fingers leave their hair and go between your legs.

Looping your arms underneath your thighs, you spread your folds indecently. Slick and spit oozes from your cunt and Changbin licks his lips like he’s about to get another taste for himself, but your whining stops him.

“Inside. I wanna feel you inside.” Your hips buck from the thought of them filling you up. “I wanna cum with you deep in here.”

Changbin’s already nodding, standing up to chuck his shorts down, but Felix smoothes a hand down, rubbing over your cunt.

“You’re not just saying that because you feel bad, right?”

“No!” Gosh, you feel like you could cum just from Felix’s little palm over you. “I want to feel you. I need to feel you. Just fuck me.”

His adam’s apple bobs and he nods. He shrugs his joggers off too, putting them in a pile with Changbin’s who’s already stroking himself.

“Who do you want first, baby?” Changbin huffs. “Tell me.”

Shit. You don't want to choose. “Both! I don’t care how. Just please fuck me already.”

It’s quick how they move you. Changbin has the strength to be under you, holding your thighs apart with his cock just under your ass. It throbs being so close to your entrance, waiting for Felix to place one knee on the couch in front of you and bend just slightly so his tip aligns with you.

They’ve done this before, but not often, and most definitely not in the living room. Still, they couldn’t say no to your desperation. That aroused look in your eyes only intensifies as Changbin uses a hand to grip the base of his cock and find your opening.

“Shiiit.” You moan when his head sinks in. Changbin’s girth spreads you in the first intrusion and Felix has a front-row seat as to how your pussy caves for him.

Changbin breathes in your neck, pressing deeper until his chubby cock fits snug. Your walls pulse around him, cream leaking onto his balls. Felix’s eyes lock on the white substance, reaching a hand down to collect the slick.

You watch with hazy eyes and an open mouth as Felix shoves his fingers between your lips. You happily taste the substance, moaning at the musky flavor of yourself and Changbin. Felix presses his digits deep much like Changbin’s cock, pressing against your tongue to feel your tongue swirl around him.

“Fuck, baby.” Felix moans. “You’re so fucking hot.”

A string of saliva connects you to him even as Felix pulls his fingers away. You grin at him seductively.

“And tight.” Changbin groans in the shell of your ear. “Get in here, Yongbok. She’s waiting.”

It feels like you could finish from just pure excitement. Changbin doesn’t need to thrust. You could cockwarm him while Felix watches. Their presence is enough to feel undeniable pleasure.

That exhilaration multiples when Felix strokes himself. He nods to Changbin’s words, mouth moving to agree, but you can’t hear. So much blood is rushing to your head that you feel faint. Your heartbeat pulses in your ear and all you can hear is its increased rhythm as Felix’s tip touches your clit.

He drags it down, meeting Changbin’s few inches that stick out. He gives you a look. One of caution, trust, and love.

“Please.”

He sinks in. Your lovers don’t have much length, but their cocks have enough girth to make up for it and more. It feels like you’re being clawed with pleasure, searing your insides with heat. Changbin moans in your ear when Felix presses deeper. Your cunt seeps with more arousal, accommodating the unbelievable stretch.

Changbin widens your thighs to add more room, to let Felix keep going in so his pelvis is flush against your cli-

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sound of the alarm rings throughout the house. Felix jumps and Changbin holds you tighter as if the sound is threatening. It takes you a second to register that the beeping is coming from the kitchen.

“What the fu-”

“Ughhh, fuck. The brownies.” Felix grumbles. His grip on your thighs adjusts like he’s about to pull out. You feel his inches slowly slip about before you reach your arms forward and bring him close.

“No! Just leave them.”

“Leave them in the oven?”

“Yongbok.” Changbin’s strangled voice breaks through. “I’m balls deep. You were about to be balls deep. The brownies can wait. They need to cool down anyway.”

Felix’s flushed face turns confused. “How can they cool down in the oven if-”

“Felix!” “Yongbok-ah!”

“Sorry.”

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz changbin #skz felix #skz Felix smut #changbin smut #skz changbin smut #stray kids changbin #stray kids felix #felix #felix smut #seo changbin #armageddon event!

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tiredmamaissy · 2 years ago

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Ralak te Sepwan ieyk’itan: Special Episode II

Concurrent Tides

An Illustrated Collaboration with @zestys-stuff

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's creator @zestys-stuff. Most illustrations are now on her patreon.

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (24) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (19) Warnings: nsfw, smut, fluff, profanity, age gap, aggressive rut cycle, heat cycle, dom/sub dynamics, jealousy/posessiveness, knotting, marking, scenting, praise kink, breeding kink, size difference, p in v, mating/bonding, multiple climaxes, creampie, ralak is a bit of a meanie in this, let me know if I forgot anything? Word Count: 10k Requested: Yes || No Author’s Note: the second special episode is finally here. sorry it took forever to get it out, but better late than never :') i hope you guys enjoy <3 theres another part to come after this one! 🤍 Synopsis: what happens if you and your new mates cycles sync?

<- Previous Next ->

——

“Only I knot you.”

That was the first time you’d ever seen Ralaks eyes shift in colour. That same night right after he pulled you out of his memory of his first rut. A beautiful, deep blue, glistening before your honey glazed orbs. It’s barely been a week since that night, yet it replays over and over. Day and night. How he looked at you with nothing but unadulterated greed, hardly catching his breath as he tried to steady his galloping heart. It was something deep-rooted and primal.

Something animalistic.

Since, you’ve longed to see him fully immersed in such a state. A state where self control and sexual desire no longer coexist. He’s always too concerned with you and what he thinks you can and cannot manage that he never allows himself to do what he truly wants. The level of restraint you feel through the bond is indescribable. A level you nor any other na’vi could conceivably attain. Regardless, most nights you find yourself fantasizing about this ‘lack of control’ right before bed.

Nights like tonight.

Where the stars shimmer so brightly that you need to draw the curtains, and the air is exceptionally cold and crisp that you need to huddle closely together for warmth. When your nose is buried so deep into his chest that there's no other choice for his scent to fill your lungs. And tonight he smells extraordinarily good. The salt of the sea mixed with leather hide. And oddly enough, he smells like… home. The forest and its greenery. It’s quite ironic but perhaps it’s Eywa’s way of saying that this man is truly yours. It's so comforting and right. Like a cup of hot tea on a stormy night, never failing to put you to sleep. A remedy that works in seconds — but not tonight.

Tonight you’re restless and he can sense it.

“What is it?” Ralak husks, shifting his position to hold you a little closer. “Cold?”

Truthfully, you’ve been feeling a little off. Your body has been restless and haunted. As if it could sense some sort of change of shift in the atmosphere. Or perhaps it was between the two of you. “No.” You mumble, lifting your head to look up at him. “Just can’t sleep.”

Ralaks ears twitch, a little surprised his typical soothing techniques aren’t working. He sits up quite quickly, bringing you up with him as he scoots back into frame of his bed. His brows lower when he ponders about what could be keeping you so on edge. He takes note of your flushed appearance and the minute changes in your eyes, they’re glowing a little brighter recently.

His brows jump when the realisation dawns on him.

Could it be? He knows it’s close but is it really already affecting you? How is that possible? And does that mean it will be even more severe this time around?

He had every intention to stay but perhaps it’ll be more difficult than he expected. He should really tell you, but he knows exactly how that would play out. You would get your way as per usual, it was hard for him to deny you of anything you wanted. A quick swish of your tail and it was yours. Ralak took pride in caring and providing for you. But not for this. This was just plain dangerous. And therefore he couldn’t allow you to figure it out. It’s ultimately safer that he keeps it to himself, at least until you’ve adjusted to him a little more. Your intimate moments together are very few in number after all.

“Why is that, tanhì?” He asks in a low, steady tone, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face.

You may be a slow learner, but you weren’t slow. You could sense that he wasn’t being all that transparent with you.

“I don’t know. Something feels off about you.” You say in an almost accusatory tone, finally sitting up to look him in the eye. He’s pale in the face and his breath becomes raggedy. “Tell me, Ralak.”

You watch as his pupils constrict, leaving nothing but a black dot in an open sea of blue. Within a matter of seconds, they deepen in colour and his eyelids flutter shut. He clears his throat, and waits a few seconds to open his eyes. They’re back to normal but you could’ve sworn they looked different. Just like they did a few nights ago.

“What just happened to your—” Your heart begins to race as you utter the words, only to be cut off by Ralaks hasty voice.

“Inland. Tomorrow morning. Overnight hunting trip.” He grinds them out as if it physically hurts to say the words. Anything to keep you from figuring it out.

What? Is he — lying to you?

This isn’t like him. He avoided trips inland at all costs. Anything to stay with his tanhí. He’d even go as far as faking an illness, despite rarely getting ill, to get out of accompanying Tonowari. Especially for overnight trips.

“And why did you not tell me earlier?” You manage to squeak out a closing throat, backing away to create a little distance.

He shakes his head as he blinks rapidly, staying put to allow as much space as you need. “I was hoping I did not need to go.” He utters, dropping his head to lock his gaze on your twiddling thumbs. His eyes trail up your dark blue frame, taking note of how your body is already almost trembling —already responding to him— all out of your control. He bows his head, hiding his face. “But it seems that I cannot get out of this one. I am sorry, my paysyul.”

For a fleeting moment, you really thought this was the beginning of something bad. Something deceitful. But, his words instantly bring you comfort, slowing your leaping heart and putting your mind at ease.

But the funny thing is that there was no lie.

There was really an overnight trip inland with Tonowari. One that Ralak arranged himself. Tonowari was especially taken aback by Ralaks suggestion of a hunting trip and immediately queried if he was alright, putting a firm hand on his forehead to determine if he had some sort of fever. But once Ralak explained himself, Tonowari was smiling and laughing, smacking a few blows on his back as a form of approval, teasing him yet again about ‘the love story between an Akula and an ilu’.

Your sigh brings Ralak out of his deep thought, chin leaving his chest to witness you sliding back into bed, turning on your side and backing up onto him. A smirk pulls at the his lips as he joins you, enveloping you in his warmth once more. A wave of relief washes over him as he rests his chin on the crown of your head. He’s thankful that you didn’t press any further. Otherwise, he would’ve had to reveal his best kept secret.

His upcoming rut.

——

The harsh thump of Ralaks heart rouses him to the sight of his mate clung to his chest. He admires your beauty, allowing his eyes to fall on your chest, watching closely as you breathe slowly. He gently pulls back the thin sheeting covering your body, exposing your puffy nipples to the cool morning air. When they stiffen into peaks, saliva pools in his mouth. At this point he would have looked away because of basic na’vi decency, but this morning is different.

He allows himself to stare. To take in every detail on your chest. To sear it into his memory so he can visualise you just like this as he relieves himself. Exposed before his eyes, supple skin glistening as the rays of sunlight reflect against your freckles, exposed, stiffened nipples, that act as the perfect bait to lure in a hungry predator.

Predator.

That’s what he’ll be in a matter of minutes. Nothing but a slave to his own urges and instincts. Ravenous. Insatiable. Voracious. With not even a sliver of self composure left to hold onto an ounce of rationality. He can already feel it creeping up on him, the hunger deep in his core turning him into the beast that he appears to be on the outside. It’s always been like this. A little too much. Too overwhelming.

Too aggressive.

And as the years passed it only worsened. Six unmated years. With no one but himself to make it through the tortuous few days. He just knows that he would be too rough with you. It’s his biggest fear, after all. To have no self control. To hurt the one thing he loves more than Eywa’s gift of life itself. He would sacrifice his own (life) if it meant to save yours.

He was hoping to endure it. Bite his tongue through it and be by your side. Perhaps take a long bath in the lake and crawl into bed after you’ve gone to sleep and relieve himself as quietly as he can. But now that it’s here in full bloom, he’s already having a hard time containing his urge to spread your legs and use you as his own personal fucktoy.

But you’re more than that to him.

And this is why he’s choosing to leave before you wake. Before he can no longer contain himself to just staring at your bare chest. Before he pulls the sheet down even further and parts your legs—already trembling from his leaking pheromones—and has a taste of his sweet, sweet tanhí. Rather, he uses his last shred of self composure to plant a firm kiss on your forehead before quickly gathering his gear and heading out the door.

Unbeknownst to him, you were awake the entire time.

You could feel his eyes bore into your tiny frame as the crisp morning air grazed past your nipples, just like you could feel the roughness of his kiss right above your brow. You wanted to open your eyes but the way his pheromones waft up your nose had you in a foggy trance. Your eyes burned under your eyelids and your body felt so heavy and hot.

You couldn’t help but think, is this his rut?

To be influenced by his cycle? You had felt it before. His first rut in the flashback, but it was nothing like this. Sure, it had you shivering and a little on edge but this was to another level. You could barely open your eyes, much less get out of bed. This entire time your body has been sending warning signals that its mate was peaking in his cycle — restlessness, clinginess, the nesting. You had unknowingly gathered enough fruits and grains to last you a few days. Even in this murky state of mind you finally manage to link the pieces of the puzzle together.

Listening to his footsteps as he walks out the marui, you muster up as much strength as you can to open your eyes. It’s blurry and honestly all just one blob. You could only make out a few colours trailing behind this gentle giant—green, blue and orange. All of which mix together and move like the aurora in the night sky. If one could see what a pheromone looks like, this would be it. When you finally get enough strength to part your chapped lips to mutter his name, the colours disappear as the marui flap closes behind him.

You really thought that once he left and the room aired out, that the influence of his pheromones on your body would lift as well. But you were wrong. Instead, the heaviness of your body grew tenfold, making it hard to breathe. It’s as if your lungs were filled to the brim with cold water, yet they burned as you squirmed around to fill them with air. The fire in your lungs quickly spread to your extremities, leaving your entire being in a sweltering inferno.

This feeling is familiar, yet foreign all at once. A desire so extreme it burns from within. The desire to be connected with your mate on all levels known to the na’vi. To satiate the itch of your empty, fertile womb by filling it with his seed.

Why did you have to get your heat now?

You call for Ralak a few times in your dazed state, only for you to be reminded by nothing but the crash of the waves that he’s gone. Soon the heavy rumble of the waves is drowned out by your whimpers and whines as you call for your mate to no avail. All you can manage to do in your feverish haze is kick off whatever cloth is stuck to your body, curl into a ball and rock to ease the unbearable sensation between your legs.

All until you hear a familiar, husky voice.

“I was doing some sessions with Ronal and—”

“R-Ralak?” You call out in relief, hoping your prayers have finally been answered. You roll onto your side and squint at the figure in the door frame.

“Uh. Not quite.” He quickly mutters under his breath, moving his forearm to shield his nose from your strong pheromones wafting his way. “Eywa—” He mumbles the great mothers name like a curse as he looks around the marui for your mate. “Where is Tak?”

Tak?

The more you squint your eyes, the more you’re able to make out who this figure standing in your doorway is. Your blurred vision clears just enough to reveal the unforgettable, brawny features of no other than Ka’ani.

“Ka’ani?” You say the name slowly, unsure if you should believe your eyes.

“Hah. What do you know…” Ka’ani scoffs, moving his arm from his face to lean in to get a better look at your condition. You’re panting yet shivering, glazed in your own sweat and slick. He smirks a little as he pulls back, spitting out the words, “…bitch in heat.”

“What are you... d-doing here? You should leave!” You try to shout, although it comes out more as a hoarse cry.

“Why should I? It looks like you need a hand.” Ka’ani jesters, physically extending his hand towards you as he wiggles his thickset fingers.

“Haa. I really don’t.” You pant, hugging your knees to your chest even tighter.

“You’re sitting in a puddle of your own sweat.” Ka’ani’s voice is harsh, yet laced with concern. “And whatever else is coming out of you.” His jaw clenches and unclenches as he looks away from you, seemingly out of — respect? He catches sight of the full bucket of fresh water at your bedside, along with empty drinking bowls.

Has she not been tended to all day? Not a sip to drink? Ka’ani thinks to himself, concerned as to why Tak’s mate would be alone, uncared for and in heat of all things.

You finally muster up the energy to tug the sodden sheet over your naked body and scoot back further to the frame of the bed. “Ralak said he will be back soon. You should leave if y-you want to live.” You lie, feeling a little threatened that a male na’vi has barged into your marui while you’re in heat.

“Yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, y/n. None of this makes sense.” Ka’ani speaks, taking a few steps towards you.

You shuffle even further back only for your back to make contact with the bed frame. A rush of fear surges through you. The type of fear that has your heart twisting behind your ribs. You cross your legs over one another, bunching up the sheet between them and beg with trembling lungs, “P-Please, Ka’ani. Don’t.”

Ka’ani stops dead in his tracks, seemingly offended by your assumption that he’d be approaching you to do something that the great mother herself would look down upon. Sure, he tracked your scent last time, but he was here atone exactly for that.

“Syor [relax]. I would never do such a thing.” He says through gritted teeth, storming towards the bedside and quickly pouring you a drink. “No matter how strong your scent is. Although, you don’t smell all that great now that you’re mated.” He chuckles lightly as he hands you the drink. Your eyes jump between him and the cup in his hand before you struggle to sit up. His hand instinctively reaches out to assist you, but you bat it away and continue to pull yourself up.

“Just — let me help you.” He snaps, supporting your back when you finally give in. “Drink.” He commands, plunking the cup in your hand, taking a step back and crossing his arms.

You gulp down the water greedily, finally quenching your thirst and hoping it will provide some level of relief to your febrile condition. You hum to yourself as the water makes its way down your throat, but groan when you feel no better. Meanwhile, Ka’ani takes in your state, feeling a twinge in his heart for you when he sees how you’ve been suffering. You look more than uncomfortable. You look like you’re in pain.

“You’ll be alright, y/n. Just tell me where he went and I’ll go fetch him.” He speaks in a more gentle tone, taking the empty cup from your hand.

“I-I don’t — haah. He said he went… He went inland to hunt.” You blubber out, feeling your body heat to a dangerous degree. It has you shaking as you ease yourself back into a more comfortable position.

Ka’ani shakes his head a bit, “Inland to hunt? Really? When his mate is in heat? Tak would never. The only time he’d ever do that is if he is also… in rut.” Ka’ani stalls on the last few words that slip off his tongue, tasting them in his mouth as the realization sets in. Ka’ani quickly fills the cup, sets it next to you and bolts to the door. Before he ducks under the flap of your Marui, he looks over his shoulder and reassures you.

“Sit tight, forest girl. I know exactly where he is.”

— —

It’s been a few hours since coming to his usual spot — the waterfall with the coldest water known to the reef people. It is Ralaks most private and intimate place aside from his humble abode. A place where only a select few people know about. He’s most drawn to the low temperature of the water, making it a perfect environment to endure the heat of his rut in.

Despite doing this for the past few years, each cycle gets a little more intense. And this one is certainly no exception.

Ralak sits underneath the overhang, right in the dip of the plunge pool, and allows the water to beat on his back. He’s maintained this position for the past few hours, only releasing himself when the pressure in his core grows too much. A pressure so immense it would have his body acting on its own accord — a wandering hand finding its way to his swollen cock.

Truth be told, he hated the feeling.

He hated feeling so out of control. To be nothing but a slave to his own primal impulses. He’d fight it as much as he could, just like he is now, until the sensation is just too intense to ignore. Until he’s grunting and squirming with a body so heated it has him grinding his teeth.

He quickly stands up, tilting his head back and covering his face from the stream of the water with his hands. At this point his cock is so swollen that it’s outright painful, throbbing and pulsing from the lack of attention. He thinks of you — your thin tail and tiny stature. The way you lay in bed this morning before he left. Naked and exposed before his eyes. Eywa, how he wishes you were here. How he could finally spend his rut with his mate, but he just knows it would be too much for you to handle.

The thoughts of you make this no easier, sending his hips thrusting into the air — the running water stimulating his thudding cockhead. He groans from the immense pleasure a little water brings him. He’s neglected himself so badly to the point that he feels like this could really make him cum. But how many times has he cum by now?

Once? Twice? Thrice?

He lost count after the fifth time, not that he was keeping track anyways. If anything he was downright denying himself the pleasure, and convincing himself that he remained in control. But fuck, the image of your delicate body —the possibility that he could break you if he weren’t careful— pushes him over the edge. Before he can stop himself, his hot cum is spilling from his slit all over the length of his cock and he’s unable to keep his noises at a minimum.

“Mmmph.” His deep growl rumbles, a hand grabbing a firm hold of his jumping cock.

He squeezes what’s left out of his slit, finally looking down to see the state of himself. It’s red and raw — spikes fully erect and balls drawn so close to his body they’re practically hiding behind his thick knot. He lets out a loud sigh.

Relief.

Finally, he leans back against the rocky wall and slides down into the plunge pool, immersing himself chest deep into the water. He lightly treads back to the bank and makes himself comfortable — allowing his head to rest and body to relax. He takes a few deep breaths and tunes into the burble of the waterfall.

All until he hears the click of a —

Ka’ani?

“Tik-Tak.” Ka’ani clicks melodically, cautiously approaching the giant submerged in the waterfall. Ralak doesn’t budge. He remains fixed in position, eyes shut, head and elbows resting on the edge of the river. His chest heaves harshly as he attempts to remain in this less than tranquil state. “Never thought I’d see the day Ralak leaves his mate in heat. To be soaking in a waterfall of all things.”

Perhaps Ralak heard wrong. Leaving his mate in heat? Ralak would know if his mate were in heat. He would sense it. Whatever rubbish he’s spewing out, Ralak doesn’t have the time, nor patience, for it.

“Skxawng, what are you on about? Leave me be.” Ralak huffs, wiping the sweat from his face with a quick hand movement.

“Just as I thought. You’re all hot and bothered too, aren’t you?” Ka’ani chuckles.

“Leave.” Ralak says angrily, his purplish-blue eyes finally snapping up to meet Ka’ani’s. “I have just calmed.”

Ka’ani’s brows knit together, offended and a little confused with himself for being upset from the way Ralak is shooing him away.

“Oh c’mon brother. All I’ve been told today is to leave!” Ka’ani’s hands fly up as he takes a step forward. “First your mate, and now you. Am I really that unwanted?”

Now he’s got Ralaks attention.

Ralak gets a whiff of your sweet, sweet pheromones on him. As if he’s been around his tanhì. Scenting his tanhì. Touching his tanhì. His primal urges devour him once more, eating away at him until nothing but a possessive beast remains. One of pure territorial instinct.

“What did you do?” Ralak growls through a clenched jaw as he jumps out the water and approaches Ka’ani. “Scenting my mate again?” His voice booms as it increases in volume, yet lowers in depth. “Answer me. Did you touch her?!”

“No!” Ka’ani blurts out, now taking a few steps back with his hands splayed out in front of him. “Is that what you both really think of me? This is the last I ever do some—”

Ralak remains silent, taking quick, calculated strides directly towards Ka’ani, who is now backing up into a tree. Once his back hits the scaly bark, Ralaks' balled fist slams into the trunk, barely an inch away from Ka’ani’s skull.

“Alright! Alright. I know what I did before. I-I’m sorry. I came looking for you to apologise for that but I found her in heat. Okay? I came here as soon as I realized.”

Unsure of whether or not to believe a word coming from this skxawng’s mouth, Ralak steps away from his prey, bloody knuckled and full of uncertainty. But the one thing he is certain about is the fact that he wants no other na’vi to find you if you really are in heat. With a huff of defeat, he pushes past Ka’ani and bolts for the shore.

——

The trek back to the marui is twice as quick. Your pheromones are thick and potent, affecting him even a few feet away from the marui door. And when he steps through the marui door, he’s completely inundated with the thick fog of your pheromones. He feels lost in himself, struggling not to succumb to his instincts. Struggling to regain control.

“Ma’ L-Lak?” You mewl shakily.

You can smell him, just like he can smell you. It only drives you further into your heat, your trembling body now shaking a little more. Sensing that your mate is in close proximity, your scent glands release more of your aphrodisiac to lure him in. In turn, this has its effects on your body — sending you into a submissive state where you feel too heavy to even lift a finger. You lay there, legs splayed out and glossy fingered.

You watch through blurred vision as the tall and thick silhouette quickly makes its way towards you. Ralak grabs and firmly holds your legs back as he leans in close, making the confirmation that his mate is indeed in heat. He lingers a little longer than he can control, taking everything in him to pull away and calm down — panting and out of breath.

“It is true.” He huffs, towering over your tiny, shivering frame. “In heat.” The two words drip off his tongue, much like the thick nectar dripping from your slit.

“Lak. Oh — lak. ’ts you.” You cry out in relief, clawing at his thigh to bring him back to you, “‘m so happy it’s you ‘nd not someone else.” His teeth grit as your hand grazes his thigh, but he remains fixed in place, unsure of his ability to keep his composure if he allows himself to give in to your touches.

What is he supposed to do now?

He didn’t think this far into his plan… for once in his life. Typically he’s quite calculated and certain of his next move but now — now he’s not sure how he’s going to deal with this. He just knew that he couldn’t leave you alone. Not for another man to find and claim you in the way that only he should. But he has to remain himself. For you. He swallows down his uncertainty before speaking.

“I should have stayed.” He looks down at the flushed, puffy flesh between your legs with a rapacious glint in his eye. “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just p-please. It’s to-o much. T-Too hot. It aches, karyu.” Ralak winces when you groan the last few words, it’s almost painful to resist you at this point. You go to claw at this thigh once more, only for him to shift away. “No, don’t do that. Not right now. N-Need you so ba—”

“My rut came. This morning.” He’s quick to cut you off with a strained, yet monotonous voice, unable to peel his eyes away from your swollen cunt.

“I-I know.” You pant, earning a twitch of Ralaks brows. “‘nd t-that’s good. Ngh—that’s really good, I-I can help you too.” You mumble, sticking your hand between your legs to fondle with yourself. With the way he grimaces one side of his face, it seems as if he wants to look away, but can’t.

“No, tanhì. We spoke of this.” His accent is thick as he struggles to string the words together, “No control. Trying hard…” he inhales quickly, eyes plastered to the sight in front of him, “…not to lose it.”

At this point the haze of your heat has you lethargically shaking your head from side to side, mumbling whatever frustrated-fueled words that first come to you “…haven’t cum yet…”, you squirm around to find a position that allows your wandering fingers better access to your hole, “…need to cum.” You slur the words as you barely slip two fingers inside you and you quietly sob when they provide very little release.

“Ralak!” You cry loudly enough to at last lure his gaze up to yours, the night sea finally meeting the roaring flame. Your voice quiets down into a soft whimper, “Please. Just t-try. Please.”

A moment of silence passes where you and Ralak stare at one another, hearts pounding and chests heaving, understanding exactly how the other feels. The burning desire to come together. The resistance, yet the lack of control. The eternal flame within. The heat.

Ralak breaks eye contact to glance at your slender fingers working as hard as they can. He breathes a heavy sigh, feeling a pang of guilt for leaving you when he sees just how raw you are from being in heat all alone. He’s responsible for you even being in this bad of a state, isn’t he? Leaving you before sunrise with nothing but a kiss on the head. If anything that only made it more intense for you. He wants to — no, needs to care for you. It’s what every part of himself is urging him to do.

“The thought of another finding you… like this.” Ralak rasps as he closes in on you, “so vulnerable… it makes me — haah.” He cuts himself off with a shaky sigh and a clench to his jaw. Beads of sweat ball on his temples, slowly rolling down his angular jaw to eventually meet and drip from his chin onto your stomach. He looms over you, his hair flowing forward when he suddenly grabs and tugs at your wrist in one swift move, yanking your fingers out of you.

“Ss-ah!” You hiss with a wince, heart skipping a beat when you realise that he’s barely there anymore. “I-It makes you, what?” You ask quietly — nervously, even.

A bestial growl begins to rumble in his chest, causing a shiver to ripple through you—hardening your nipples into peaks within seconds. Jawbone fluttering from his reluctance to answer, he harshly cups your pussy with his hand, causing you to gasp. His sharp, intimidating stare locks with yours, brows tensing as he allows two, thickset fingers to slip down to your slickened opening. His growl fades into a single, drawn out word.

“Nìfmokx. [jealous]”

His admission slips past his lips just as his fingers sink into your aching core, leaving your mouth agape and hot tears spilling over your cheeks. Jealousy isn’t an emotion Ralak is used to feeling. Much less something he would subject you to experience with him. But you could see the raw emotion in his eyes, as they flicker from a dark blue to something even deeper. It’s the way his stare bores into your innermost being as he fills you up with his digits alone, telling you that you were his, and his only.

He hooks his fingers right into your gummy walls, holding his position as he moves his hand in an up and down motion at full tilt. The tips of his fingers repeatedly slam into your swelling sweet spot, coaxing out broken, filthy noises from your throat. He hums with pride, yet his face remains stone cold, minus the occasional twitch of his jawbone. He’s trying so hard to keep at a steady pace, and not to be too rough with your fragility.

“Oh f-fuck.” You curse under your breath, both hands grabbing a firm hold of his forearm. You’ve been unintentionally edging yourself all day that you’re already almost there. And no matter how hard you squeeze and claw at his now-veiny arm, he remains unmoving.

“Go on, then.” He huffs impatiently as he looks down at you, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers. Your heels sink into the bed when you push your hips into the air, fingernails digging into his skin as you near your first release. You begin to whimper, bucking your hips to chase the feeling of relief. It’s right there. It’s so close; and you just need to allow it to wash through you. You tense up so badly your whole body shakes, sending your teeth chattering and your bottom lip quivering. You swear you can see the stars from the night sky litter your vision and feel your heavy lids flutter shut.

“Look at me.” Ralak demands in a sharp, gruff tone. Your glossy eyes shoot back up to his, and you start to sputter out whatever gibberish comes from your mouth — a few curses mixed with his name and your fathers’ mother-tongue. He continues to glare down at you with a rigid face, tensing his jaw as he wills himself to be gentle and patient with you. “Good. Now cum, little one.”

Your pathetic noises suddenly fade into a sweet, little cry. A cry of relief when your frustration washes away as you finally come undone on his fingers. The alleviation is so intense that it’s almost consuming; “T-Thank—” you collapse back down onto the bed, “—you. Thank you—haah, thank you karyu.” You pant repeatedly, his forearm ripping from your grip when he unexpectedly wrenches his fingers out of you. You squirm from the sudden emptiness, “Wait—”

“Do not thank.” He spits the accented words as he stumbles back to create some distance between the two of you. He pants as he attempts to recollect himself, his face of stone finally screwing into something of a grimace. “So…if another na’vi found you, would you thank him too? Hm?”

“Lak. I… N-No.” You stutter, unsure of what to even say.

“You are mine. My mate…” he growls through thinned lips, “My duty. Understand?”

“Yes.” You nod quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. It arouses you to see him so jealous. So possessive. So assertive.

Ralak slams his eyes shut and gulps so hard it’s audible —visible even. You could see the bump in the column of his throat quickly undulate, his chest heaving harshly and his shoulders dramatically rising and falling with each breath he struggles to take. And for a while, there’s nothing but silence and his heavy breathing that you feel the overwhelming need to break it.

“Ralak.”

Your trembling, tiny voice snapping his head back up to you, once tightly closed eyes now flying open to reveal the most beautiful shade of mauve. They pierce into you like a spear through an unsuspecting prey, full of nothing but pure, unadulterated greed.

You never thought you’d see them again except in that vision. You get lost in them for a little, studying how the gold ring around his blown pupils still remains even in a sea of indigo.

You sense that he’s in the thick of his rut now and you need to relieve him soon, like he did for you. Or only Eywa knows what will happen. You allow yourself to finally take in the man before you in full, eyes trailing down his sweaty, muscular physique — perfectly carved v-lines and six fingered tattoo — until they land on his aching cock.

Oh, fuck. Is he bigger? You think, admiring his mushroomy head and erect spikes. It’s oozing and dripping, unable to keep still from how hard it’s pulsing. It’s at least an inch bigger than usual.

You look away to study his facial expression and by the way he’s looking at you, you can tell he’s waiting for your command, trying his hardest to prevent himself from pouncing on you and fucking you senseless right here and now. You’ve never seen him this way before. Straining so hard to keep himself in one position and struggling to keep his hands to himself.

“Ralak… More.” You spread your legs as wide as they can go, holding them apart by the bend of your knees, exposing yourself completely. His heavy lidded eyes widen almost as much as your legs, pointed ears flicking upwards in excitement when he sees you assume such a vulnerable and submissive position.

“Y/n.” He groans, voice thick with arousal and want and maybe a little desperation as he takes in the sweet sight of your still-pulsing and swollen clit poking out between your folds. “I am… losing control.”

Hearing your name fall from his lips in this way — this tone, instantaneously reignites the flame in your core. In seconds your slit is practically dripping, forming a pool of your slick underneath you. “Good.” You pant as you stare up into his slit-like pupils. You swallow quickly before mustering up the courage to invite the beast in. “Now…remind me who I belong to.”

How could he resist now?

With the way you’re talking and your pheromones so pungent that they fill his lungs to the brim with no space for any other option but to fall into the thick of his rut. Before you can formulate another thought in your foggy state, Ralak has your legs pinned back and is diving nose first into your cunt.

He wastes no time to have his fill of you, lapping up your juices so desperately your body moves from the force of his licks. He has been wanting to taste you ever since you made a mess on his fingers, fuck — ever since he got a whiff of your scent from outside his marui door, but denied himself the pleasure in the case he couldn’t stop himself from going any further. But now, all restraint and denial is now left out at that very door.

The flat of his tongue trails up your inner thigh and then back to your folds, tasting a mixture of the sweetness of your slick and the saltiness of your sweat. He groans when his tongue finally grazes past your clit, feeling it throb against his taste buds. He lingers there for a while, swirling and sucking on you until he unlatches to come up for a quick breath of air.

“Fucking ftxìlor [delicious].” He gasps out a curse, shoving your legs even further back to have seconds of his meal.

It becomes evident that he’s doing this for himself. Because if he were doing this solely for you, he would have made you cum by now. He’s eating you out as if he’s been starved for weeks, sucking and popping off your clit just to lap up the sweet, sticky nectar seeping from your hole just to coat his tongue.

He’s nowhere near as quiet as he usually is, grunting and groaning as he swallows your juices. His fingernails dig into your thighs as he tries to keep himself from being too rough with your tiny, dainty body. But, his attempts prove to be futile once you feel your hips lift off the ground from his grip tightening around your thighs. You stare at the sight of your mate between your legs, crinkling his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut as he can’t stop himself from indulging in his urges.

“Fuck me!” You let out a frustrated moan, your heat having you so on edge you need to cum again.

His eyes fly open, and within moments he’s tucked under your hips, pelvises flush together as he rests his throbbing, neglected cock between your folds. His tip touches your belly button with ease, beads of precum oozing out of his slit one after the next.

“This is what you want, yes?” He bucks his hips into you, the tip of his cock smearing his slick all over your deep blue skin.

“Fuck, yes.” You whisper shakily, chin meeting your chest to look at the masterpiece he’s painting on you. “I want my mates cock.”

He only responds with a rough growl, flipping you over and pushing you onto your stomach.

“Oh shit.” You mutter under your breath, a little afraid of what you’ve gotten yourself into. But you trust Ralak.

You know that even in rut he would never hurt you. Not intentionally, at least. Of course this is not to say that he would be gentle —you expect that anything but.

With a firm hand to your upper back, his body is pressed against yours and his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deeply through his nose, holding it in his lungs, and then letting out a hot, shaky breath against your skin, finally allowing himself to really take in your scent.

He almost becomes drunk off it— at least it feels that way for him. Your scent has him feeling like he’s downed two full bottles of fermented fruit with no chasers in between and he simply can’t get enough of it.

Hand moving swiftly from your back to your head, he pins your face to the bed as he trails his tongue along your jawbone to the nape of your neck. He lingers a little longer than he can help, suckling on and grazing his pointed canines against the skin. It sends shivers down your spine until your tail curls into the air and back arches in complete submission. You push back into him, feeling his hardened length pressed between the swell of your ass and base of your tail.

Fuck, you just want it inside you already.

“Lifting your tail for me, hm?” He huffs, puckering his lips against your skin and suckling tenderly. You can feel the emptiness creep back in, and that maddening itch deep in your womb. You moan softly, like a low hum under your breath, which only riles him up more. He feels like he wants to make you his all over again.

To mate with you.

To mark you as his in every way so that no other man would even dare look your way. Without warning, Ralak pushes up off you, his sinewy arms caging you in with one hand binding your wrists and the other keeping your head pinned to the bed. His legs hold yours down, his knees locking your ankles in place.

“You belong to me.” He growls next to your ear, his hand abruptly leaving your head to reach for the base of his skull for his kuru. With a quick tug, he brings it over his shoulder and pops it into his mouth to hold with his teeth. He reaches for your kuru that lies innocently in the dip of your back, and brings it towards his mouth.

A wave of anxiety washes over you when the image of Ka’ani finding you earlier in your own mess flashes before you. You can’t help but wonder if he would see that if he made tsaheylu right now. Imagine how he’d react when he realizes Ka’ani saw you naked and covered in slick? Your body squirmed at the mere thought, only making Ralak tighten his grip on you.

“Wait!” Is all you could blubber out before you feel the connection —the bond. Your eyes bulge when you feel him surge through you, two minds becoming one. It takes you by surprise, he’s never one to hastily or unexpectedly make tsaheylu with you. But tonight he makes the bond as if you were a tsurak to be tamed.

What he sees next drives him further into his territorial urges — your interaction with Ka’ani. The way Ka’ani barged into his home. How he saw your naked, vulnerable body. The fear that you felt when another man invaded your space. When he helped you. Innocently touched you.

“He touched you.” He says between pants, a mixture of emotions washing over him all at once. But the sharp pang of your heat transferring through tsaheylu has him entirely succumbing to his own urges and carnal instincts.

He’s simply not there.

His hips start bucking uncontrollably and his cock is poking and prodding at your puffy folds. The crown of his cock jabs at your clit a few times before finally parting your folds and with a quick snap of his hips he’s probing your entrance.

It stings when his swollen cockhead breaks past the resistance of your tightness, and he can’t help but lay hold of your hip and hiss from how tiny you feel. This is the first he’s ever had his cock stuffed inside a pussy during his rut. The feeling is all-consuming and he unapologetically yearns for more.

Hips snapping back, he pops his cockhead out of you only to shove it back in again. And again. And again until he’s repeatedly using your tight, little hole as nothing more than a fucktoy for his own self pleasure.

He leans back to take in the hazy sight, admiring the way your hole stretches perfectly to accommodate the sheer thickness of his cock. And when he sees the mushroomy part of his head slowly emerge he can’t help the way his hips stutter just to sink it back inside you.

It’s torturous, not having all of him inside you when that’s what your body is pining for most. He’s so much bigger than normal and you know that this is an itch that only he can scratch. “God—” You whine the foreign word, “—just fuck me already!”

“Agh. Quiet.” He lets out an irritated grunt, both hands flying to your hips to shove you down onto his cock — a loud, audible smack permeating the air when your sticky pelvises collide.

It almost overpowers the hoarse yet piercing cry that escapes your quivering lips. You’re so tender that the sudden stretch is too intense and with no time to adjust to his size you find yourself shuddering like you did after he took your innocence —your virginity.

His head dips back in ecstasy just when his tip kisses your cervix, his eyes screwed shut as he tries not to spray his seed inside your womb right now. His fingers sink into your skin, surely leaving bruises behind that will last for weeks.

“Hngh — woman.” He groans longingly, dropping his head forward and opening his ineberated eyes to witness how your cunt is sucking in every single inch of his cock with glee.

He grinds himself inside you, tugging at your hips and pushing against the resistance as if he were trying to stuff more of his cock inside you. Your high-pitched shrill fades out into a pathetic little whimper, your wobbly elbows and knees struggling to keep you up.

It’s all too much and your fucked out mind goes blank. You can’t even process how your body is submitting to its owner and his rough touches, opening itself up to be bred already. You sense what’s coming next. Your back bows, elbows and knees burying into the softness of the bed as you try to ground yourself for Ralak to use you for his own relief.

He does exactly that— hunching over you and shuffling his knees closer so he can gain more leverage to fuck into your slippery cunt. He puts all his weight on you, his fingernails almost piercing your skin when he begins rutting into you like his life depends on it.

He sets a merciless pace right off the bat, pounding into you as if he were angry with you. He huffs and puffs from trying to catch his breath but fails because he can’t stop himself from humping at you. His body won’t let him, not until he’s ensured you're full with his seed and will bear his child.

Hands quickly leaving your hips, he grabs your wrists, binding them together once more and the other grips your kuru and yanks it back. Your neck is exposed and your mouth hangs agape as you’re given no other choice but to take the jackhammering of your life. He’s never fucked you so hard or fast and perhaps it’s the haze of your heat but you just want more of him.

“F-Fuck. FuckFuckFuckmeFuckme— yes!” You beg deliriously, pushing yourself back onto him. You can feel the way his cock is bulging from your lower stomach, but you couldn’t care less because you just want it even deeper inside you. Fuck, it hurts even but it feels so good that you can’t stop begging for more. “Deeper — oh, yesyesyes!”

Ralaks groans become drawn out and he’s burying his hot face into the crook of your neck as his pulsing tip bullies its way past your cervix. It’s like white hot pleasure surging through your entire being and it has you so lightheaded you may actually pass out before he’s finished with you.

His cock heats up inside your cunt, becoming so veiny you could practically feel each vein press against your gummy, slimy walls. He’s now panting open mouthed against your throat, his tongue darting out to lick your skin. He shoves your head down so he can access the back of your neck—a hot spot for your pheromones— and grazes his canines against you. Every fiber of his being is urging him to sink them into your skin and see if you taste as good as you smell. His fangs throb in his mouth at the mere thought, his hot saliva dripping off their length and down your neck.

You’re so overwhelmed and overstimulated that you can’t form a coherent thought much less process the fact that you’re quickly nearing your climax. It’s as if you’ve surrendered all control over your body to him and he’s dictating what happens next. Your pussy walls tighten around him so much it aches and he outright whimpers.

“Sst-ah.” He pulls away from your neck and slams his eyes shut, grimacing from the way your cunt is gripping his cock. At this point you’re so on edge that you’re just pinching him, locking him inside you and almost cutting off his blood supply. It’s more than painful for him, and he becomes peeved that you won’t ease up.

Irritated, he aggressively slams himself into you so that you stop with your pathetic little pinching, but all that does is tip you over the edge. Next thing you know your cunt is helplessly fluttering around his cock and your pussy juices are trickling down your thighs.

“Mmm-fuck I’m cumming!” You moan the words so quickly they jumble together, “Cu-cumming! Cumming!”

You throbbing around him has his eyes rolling into the back of his head but the more your body convulses underneath him the more he grows frustrated with you. How could such a little thing put on such a big performance? Why won’t you just stay still?

So he thrusts. And thrusts. And thrusts.

Taming you in the only way his body knows how. Fucking into you without mercy or sympathy. He lets out a hiss, the first he’s ever directed your way, and tightens his grip. “Keep…” He pulls out of you until only the tip is left inside, “...still.” Ralak’s deep voice rumbles next to your ear as he slams every inch cock into your cunt, the mere force of his thrust almost knocking you onto your stomach. You let out a broken whimper, coming down from your high and already feeling the coil in your stomach wind and heat up again.

“Haa—‘nna…make you swell.” He groans the fragmented sentence like a dying man, grinding so deeply inside you that his swollen balls rub against your puffed up clit. Your bruised cervix feels so good against his cock as he uses it to massage the most sensitive part of his tip.

Experiencing nothing but absolute rapture, Ralaks head slumps into the crook of your neck, where he’s flooded by your scent. He only grinds harder. And harder, until he’s panting like a viperwolf against your skin.

“Fuck — please…” You beg through a shaky whisper, trying to free your hands from his undying grip, “I j-ust c-came.”

He’s just so fucking big and deep that he’s touching parts of you that have never touched before, and he’s only getting more aggressive the more you push away his advances. Right now, you’re just a squirming, noisy bitch in heat that needs to be put in her place. To surrender and submit. And the pheromones wafting up his nostrils only drive him further into his bestial urges to claim you as his.

His teeth and gums throb in his mouth once more when the urge to mark you as his becomes indubitable. Much like the urge to keep you still enough to make you into a vessel for his seed. He indulges himself, yanking your head back to expose the bend of your shoulder. He hovers open mouthed over your flawless skin and gives you a kitten lick before ruthlessly marking you.

Your eyes bulge and pupils constrict into nothing but dots when you feel his lengthy fangs plunge into your flesh. The wail evading your throat is deafening and only gets higher when you feel your shoulder set ablaze. His jaw locks into place and he holds you still as he incessantly claims you as his in more ways than just marking. Your eyes start to water and your body stiffens when you feel it.

He’s bulging inside you.

Stretching you out until your shoulder isn’t the only part of you on fire. You lash around, clawing at whatever’s in your way until your nails are dull but the more you move the more it burns. “Y-You’re getting bigger inside me!” You release a high pitched squeal, your elbows and knees finally collapsing under you. Now all his weight is on top of you, pinning you flat to the bed with nowhere for you to go. He begins groaning low and deep, drawing it out until it turns into a depraved growl. It feels as if he’s swelling inside you, as if he were doubling in size. As if he were — oh fuck.

“You’re — you’re knotting me, lak!” You yell when you come to the realisation. It feels like there’s two of him inside you, stretching you to unfathomable lengths. Despite your continuous attempts to get him to let up, he continues to bulge inside you. “You’re knotting me.” You repeat the words in a weakened, croaky voice of defeat, finally giving in and accepting your fate.

Riding out his high, his hips stutter out of his control — a familiar sensation now flooding your core. A rush of warmth inside you. It’s his hot seed pumping inside you, his cock thumping with each spurt. He groans and moans until you’re so overloaded with his cum it begins to drip down your thighs and mix with yours.

He unlatches from your shoulder, lapping at the wound to prevent it from bleeding too badly. He plants a few rough kisses on the double crescent shaped mark and works them up to the lobe of your ear. He’s panting and sweating and he can feel the fog lifting now that he’s had his release. “‘m sorry.” He mumbles between wet kisses, now trailing them back down to the fresh wound to lap at it some more. “‘m sorry.”

“Ralak, I-I” You stutter, overloaded with all these new sensations. It’s burning worse than a hellfire wasp sting but at the same time it’s everything your body hungers for. “Haah.. it-it hurts” You whimper quietly, looking behind you to see the most inebriated eyes you’ve ever seen on this man’s face stare back at you. He releases his pheromones to help your body calm down and feel less pain, ultimately scenting you all together.

“Mawey.” Ralak huffs, trying his hardest to stay still now that he’s quickly coming to the realisation that he’s knotted and marked you in one go. “Doing… so well, tahnì.” He tries to praise you but truthfully he’s still in and out of it, dazing off when he feels the occasional throb of your walls.

“Am I? Am I helping you too, lak?” You ask in a surprisingly optimistic tone, proud that you were able to do what you were told was unmanageable. He musters out a nod, grunting as he finishes emptying himself in your womb.

Feeling some level of sense and rationality, you ask him a question that’s been on your mind. “I’m going to get pregnant, aren’t I?”

“Mm.” He hums, nodding his head as he nuzzles himself into the dip of your shoulder, inhaling your seeping scent.

“Is that what you w-want?” Your breath hitches as you flinch from his cheek resting on your shoulder.

“Mm.” Another grunt, followed by an unexpected, fervid thrust — his body answering your question on his behalf by ensuring every last drop of his essence is inside your fertile womb.

You focus on steadying your breathing now that you’ve gotten your answer.

“Irayo, muntxate [thank you, wife].” He says weakly, finally rolling you both onto your sides for some much needed rest. You chuckle. A weak one, but a chuckle nonetheless, and repeat his own words back to him.

“Do not thank.” You say with a smile, getting yourself as comfortable as you can for the long night ahead.

——

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evieolo · 1 year ago

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Cocaine Kicker

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Contains: SMUT!!/intoxicated sex/MANY mentions of cocaine/doggy/fingering/clit stim/multiple rounds/squirting/p in v/breeding

Request: Can you write a Matt story inspired by the song gorilla by bruno Mars

You and Matt parade into your apartment loudly. Messes of giggles fall from both your lips as your hands fumble through your purse for your keys.

You stumble in your stilettos as you haphazardly key open your door, but tread into your apartment with confidence, ridding yourself of your bag and about to kick off your heels when Matt pulls you in for a sloppy kiss.

He’s granted access easily, the liquor helping with this. He tastes strongly of bourbon. Fragrant of Invictus Rabanne with the mixture of the cola that dusts his collar.

Your lips move messily against his, saliva mixing and teeth bumping together occasionally. You pull away but let your arms loop loosely around his neck, the lack of oxygen intensifying the dizziness of the cocaine.

Matt runs his hands over your body. Hips, ass, thighs, chest.

You shiver when his cold palm brushes your pebbled nipple, and you’d be lying if you said the contact didn’t go rushing straight to your heat.

Your nipples are hard from a mix of the cold and the intoxication that flows through your bloodstream, and your thin top does a subpar job hiding the pebbled dots.

Matt’s close, close enough to give you a hickey, or kiss your neck but he doesn’t, he stays embracing you, almost inhaling your scent before he speaks.

“I want to ruin you.” He rasps.

You breathe softly, feeling the words go straight to your core. “What’s stopping you?”

Hearing your words, Matt pulls your form to his body. Your back arches into him causing your tits, which practically spill out of your top to be pressed against him. Matt groans, his growing erection poking at your thigh and he licks his lips, holding you for seconds until his mouth is latched to the plump flesh of your breasts.

You moan. Open mouthed, nothing on your mind but Matt, snaking your arms around his torso for better grip and you start to grind your hips against his with need. Matt lets out a low whine, the drug in his system enhancing the pleasure he’s feeling. He sucks a bruise onto your skin, grazing his teeth over the dotting red spot in admiration before pulling back, grabbing your hand, and pulling you to the bedroom.

He wastes no time, shoving you onto the mattress with fervent, his dilated eyes poking into yours. “Take this off.” He breathes, tugging at your cheetah print top.

You nod, letting out an eager sigh as you hoist yourself up on your elbows. Enough so you can get the tank over your head.

Matt nearly groans at the sight of your tits spilling out of your top, you’d been teasing him in the bra-let all night, and he had to refrain from the idea of crawling over you as is and fucking his dick in between the two mounds.

You don’t wait for him to ask about your skirt, slipping it down your thighs, grasping your panties at the same time, pulling them down concurrently.

Matt watches intently as you arch your back off the mattresses to get your bottoms off, breathing in deeply as he eyes you, all exposed for him.

Turned on further, he pulls his shirt off, unbuckling his belt but not stepping out of his pants yet.

Matt steps closer, looming over you as he grazes your slick with his fingers. “You’re drenched.” He nearly laughs, bathing his digits in your wetness. You whine at the contact, feeling more stimulated than ever, the drug shooting all your pleasure straight to your core but what you need is to be filled.

“Need you now Matty.” Your voice is anything but stern, it's whiny and high-pitched—begging to be fucked.

Matt circles around and above your clit lazily with his fingers, ignoring your pleas and continues teasing.

He lets out a wry laugh when you squirm away from him. “Gotta stretch you out first baby.” He murmurs, pressing straight down on your clit with his thumb, rolling it off when he hears you gasp.

You let out a whine, shaking your head. “ No Matty, I need you now. Need it all.”

Matt lets out a breath, loud, you feel the hot air trickle against your neck and practically sense his indecision.

“Fine.” He breathes, his look hardening, “Turn around, hands and knees.”

You smile, stomach fluttering with anticipation as you reposition yourself to face the headboard, face down, and ass up, pawing at the nearby pillow to brace for what's to come.

Matt unloops his belt, tossing it to the floor into the haphazard pile you’d made of your clothes.

Feeling the heat build in your stomach, you wriggle your hips in anticipation, knowing exactly what to do to set him off. As if on cue, his boxers and jeans are off.

“So needy,” Matt laughs, palming the base of his cock and feathering his hand up his length to coax out tears of pre cum.

He lets out a loud groan and gives in, running his dick through your slick as a lubricant, rutting his hips back and forth gently to coat his base before it gets caught on your hole.

Matt has to restrain himself from pushing in in one solid thrust. Instead he eases himself into you inch by inch from the tip.

You paw at the sheets at the fiery burn. You feel so full. The leftward curve rimming against your g-spot, and it has you near wreathing when he hasn’t even moved yet.

Once you’ve fully adjusted to Matt’s size he pulls out to the tip, then waits for a beat before slamming himself fully into you. You let out a startled yelp, “Oh!” As he continues ramming into you. Slow pulls, and hard thrusts that ram your g-spot each time.

The stretch of his cock burns in the best way, the way it rams into your cervix has you pawing at the sheets.

The bulging vein that runs down his right side hits all the spots in your gummy walls. It has you pawing at the sheets, grasping the blankets in your palms as best you can as you try to keep a steady grip, but it's near impossible with how much your body jolts forward every time he thrusts.

“This pussy’s made for me.” Matt grunts, gripping your waist firmly while indulging himself in you. “Can anyone else fuck you this good?”

You let out a loud whine in an attempt to say no, then try to shake your head. This only results in your mascara and lipstick standing on the pillow your head is pressed to.

“Words,” Matt grunts, “words or I’ll stop”

Your back arches into him, and your legs start to shake at the feel of your orgasm. “No-nobody else can fuck me-me good,” You stammer out, voice whiney as the orgasmic tears brimming your waterline fall.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” Matt grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your face of the mattress you’d settled in. “You,” you croak out, “s’your pussy daddy.”

Matt doesn’t let you ride your orgasm out one bit, pulling himself out the second your walls start convulsing. You’re too fucked out to care, too fucked out to notice how he turns you on your back, presses your legs up, and slips himself back into you.

He starts ramming into you, his hips meeting yours every second. The sound of sex fills the room, your mixed moans and whines along with the wet sounds of your bodies mixing.

“Deeper!” You cry, fucked out, chasing another high, and mind clouded by pleasure.

Matt hears this and halts his thrusts. He repositions himself so he’s more bent down and hoists both of your thighs over his shoulders. Then he resumes thrusting.

”H-holy shit.” You stammer, letting your tongue loll out of your mouth.

Your eyes roll back in your head, you're unsure he’d ever hit spots so deep in you. The pleasurable stretch of your hamstrings and Matt's length ramming into your cervix was nearing your orgasm.

“You can take more than just this,” Matt smirks through his groans, freeing one of his hands and bringing it down to your slit, flicking fast circles over your clit.

You wreathe, convulsing under him, “T-too much!”

But to your ‘dismay,’ Matt wouldn’t stop unless you used your word, and you didn’t want to use it. So you were fucked. Literally.

You try to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure, a fist meets his chest momentarily but it’s weak, this turns into pathetic grasping, your fingers pawing at his chest, gripping around nothing, just the pads of your fingers on his chest.

“You gonna cum for me?”

You nod pathetically, legs trembling as you squirt around him. A string of curses and moans flows from your mouth as your crushing orgasm overtakes you.

You let out a choked sob, sending Matt over the edge. He thrusts deep into you and holds himself there as he releases, letting out small groans and whines as his hips stutter into you.

He stays inside you for several beats, drawing his orgasm out inside if you.

He draws out a long ‘fuckkkkk’ as he pulls himself out of you, nearly hissing as your walls hug him tightly, milking him for all he’s worth. You hear a light ‘plp’ sound when Matts draws himself all the way out, a mixture of his cum and your juices flowing out of you.

Matt notices this and makes a ‘tut’ sound between his teeth.

He brings two fingers to your slick, starting from the bottom, and runs them up, spooning his cum up and shoving it back into you, thrusting, with his fingers, as deep as he could go.

“Can’t have any of it go to waste huh?” He coos, pumping his fingers with lazy movements, continuing in this action until he’s satisfied himself and stops, drawing his fingers out of you and releasing your legs from his shoulders’ grasp.

With this your legs fall limply on the bed as he lets them go, pattering down on the mattress as you let out a sigh.

“You fuck me so good Matty.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your clammy forehead before lying down, flattening himself onto you. “It’s the cocaine sweetheart.”

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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sthavoc · 1 year ago

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౨ৎ🎞️ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x actress!reader

𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: you and Enzo are in the same event, meeting each other for the first time, and of course the paparazzi wanted a few shots with you both. Which later led to conversations between the two of you.

𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: none

𖥔 ࣪˖ note: he looks rlly good in that pic doesn’t he.. but apart from that I hope u guys enjoy this. this is in spanglish bc I just think the dialogue in spanish fits the guys better. also I’m not rlly good with writing imagines. this would be like my first time I publish one so I’m sorry if it’s ass lol. btw i’m sorry if I get anything wrong i’m not uruguayan or argentinian, but I do speak spanish.

Enzo couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It’s not that he had staring problems it’s just that you looked amazing and he just couldn’t believe he was in the same place as you. It was an important event and you both were lucky to find yourselves in the same place.

“Ya dale ve a presentarte boludo.” Juani stood next to Enzo. He had partially slapped Enzo on the back of his head making him snap from his gaze. “¿O te le vas a quedar viendo como loco todo el evento?”

“Callate” Enzo laughs as he glances your way. The cameras flashed on you as you posed and smiled for the pictures. You looked gorgeous.

“No en serio. O te presentas vos o lo hacemos nosotros.” Fran’s voice made both of the boys heads turn his way.

“No me va a pelar.”

“Yo creo que ya lo hizo. Mira.” Juani chuckles racing his brows as he darted at Enzo.

Juani had seen you staring their way with a feeble smile painted on your tinted lips. They all payed attention to how you looked forward to the cameras, giving them all a smile with a wave as you walked the opposite direction.

“No, no. Que viene acá.” Enzo panics. “Que hago.”

“Presentate.” Matias gives him a dull push.

By the time you had reached them, the guys stepped away and began to make their own conversation, leaving Enzo and you alone. Enzo turned around to the guys. He just hoped he wouldn’t mess anything up. After all, it was his first time meeting you.

“Hola mucho gusto, Y/N L/N. Te vi desde lejos y quise venir a saludar y a decirte que vi la Sociedad de la Nieve, y debo decir que me encantó.” You gush with a small smile as you hold your eyes on the man. You extended out your hand for him to shake. Which he did, but he also gave you a small kiss on the cheek. You hoped your lipstick didn’t leave a kiss print.

“Enzo Vogrincic. Muchas gracias. Es un gusto conocer a gran estrella como vos. yo soy un gran fan tuyo y.. te ves muy hermosa.” He was trying so hard not to seem like an idiot right now.

“Ay que lindo. Gracias.” Your lips carved a smile at his praise. You yourself made an effort not to blush. “Tú también te ves guapo.”

“Guys! Look this way!” A paparazzi called for your attention.

“¿Te gustaría tomarte algunas fotos conmigo?” You request motioning towards the cameras.

“Sí , sí. Claro.” He gestures for you to follow first. He somewhat helps you fix your dress as you walk away. As you both find your pose his hand lands on your lower bare back. And of course as the gentleman he is he instantly withdrew his hand. “Perdona.”

you let out a small chuckle telling him it was okay. He partially thought twice but he placed it back in its place when he felt your own hand on his back. Enzo just wanted you to feel comfortable around him. As he didn’t want to weird you out on your first meeting.

“You guys look amazing together!” A paparazzi exclaimed trying to get as many pictures concurrently.

“Hm, creo que les encantamos a los paparazzi” Enzo jokes making you look up at him with a smile. There will absolutely be pictures of that pose.

“Al parecer sí.”

“Vamos, si queres te puedo presentar a los chicos.” Enzo’s hand rested inside the pocket of his dressing pants in a nervous manner.

You of course agreed with a hum, stepping away from the center and walking towards where the rest of the cast was. Enzo tried on guiding you while he motioned the guys with his hands to walk over.

“Chicos, Y/N. Y/N estos son Matias, Juani, Fran, y Agustín.”

“Mucho gusto.” You greet each of the boys. “Buen trabajo que hicieron en la película.”

“Muchas gracias.” They all reply in unison.

“Sos una actriz increíble me veo todas tus películas.” Juani comments making you give him a warm smile, and bringing your hand to your heart.

“Ayy re lindo.”

“Bueno pero y si entramos ya? Cómo que tanto flash me está mareando.” Matias’ eyes shoot a double blink. He also brought his hand to his right temple giving it a small massage.

“Concuerdo.” Enzo nods.

Everyone walked inside the event. First thing that met the group were the LED lights that colored the room and the huge amount of tables that had glasses and champagne on them. Not to forget the decorations. Every single one of you turned your heads to admire the whole room. Enzo who didn’t waist no time hurried himself to pull up a chair for you. That made you release a smile.

“Gracias.”

He himself sat next to you as the boys filled around some of the seats around the table. Juani grabbed the bottle of champagne making a foolish face towards Fran, creating a bit of laughter between the two. Matias and Agustin didn’t last in joining their conversation, and also in taking silly pictures of each other.

“Entonces, Enzo. Cuéntame de ti.” You tried to make a conversation to reduce the quietness between the two.

“Uff.” He raised his brows letting out a chuckle. “Que no se puede saber ya.” He comments making the two of you laugh, you yourself racing a brow tilting your head to the side for a split second. “Pero pues tengo 30 años. Me fascina el teatro. Me encanta tomar fotos, la música”

“Wow. Tenemos cositas en común eh.” He looks at you with a warm smile and a glint in his eyes from the small nudge you gave him. “me encanta la fotografía, también me gusta el teatro y amo la música. Tengo un record player y me encantaría poder ir a una disquera y comprar más discos. Y debo de mencionar que nunca me vas a cachar sin mis audífonos en mis días libres.” A small chuckle escapes from Enzo’s lips at your remark.

“Ese soy yo con la fotografía. Voy a todos lados con mi cámara.” He motions towards his camera, which you hadn’t even noticed. “Si queres podemos ir a una disquera que vi por ahí cuando me estaba paseando.”

“¿Me estás invitando a salir?” A playful smile crept upon your covered lips as you watched how a nervous look arose on his face.

“Bueno.. como amigos obviamente.” He quickly adds.

“Te estoy jodiendo. Claro que podemos ir.” He laughs in relief as he sets his arm on the table staring at the ground. “Sirve de que tomas algunas fotos” You add motioning towards his camera.

“¿Me darías tu número entonces?”

You watched how Enzo took out his phone from his pocket, unlocking it before setting it between the two of you. Your hand reaches for the phone, giving him a small glance with a slight smile. You start to look for the contacts app before you began on typing your number in his phone.

“toma. no me nombres nada malo por favor.” You joke as you watched him create your contact.

“para nada, linda. No quiero que me odies.”

Enzo was starting to come out of his shell, letting out a pet name was somehow a small way of him showing he was getting comfortable around you. He just hoped it didn’t mean too much for you to shut him out. On the contrary though.

You softly giggled and somewhat blushed at the pet name. “odiarte no creo.” His eyes turned their all divided attention to you as he finished his typing and locked his phone again before placing it back into his pocket.

“Pues espero que me podas responder el mensajito.” He murmured as he got closer to you for you to be able to hear him.

“Por supuesto que te contestaré.” You point towards him. “Me encantaría ir a esa disquera y si se puede me puedes tomar algunas fotitos.” He smiles as he receives the silly wink you gave him.

“Claro. Sí. Sería un gusto.” He rests his hand on his chest. “Si queres te enseño algunas que tengo en mi celular.” You nod liking the idea as he takes out his phone again looking for his gallery and the folder where he kept all of his pictures.

“Podes deslizar a la izquierda.” He gives you his phone which already had the first picture set.

“Oh wow.” You were amazed by the simple yet amazing quality pictures he has taken. Some were of cats, buildings, him in black and white. “Son hermosas Enzo. Si no la hubieras echo de actor la hubieras echo de fotógrafo.” You laughed along with him.

“Es algo simple. Es uno de mis hobbies.” He murmurs next to you as he also looked at the pictures.

“Pues eres muy talentoso, de verdad.” You place your hand on his shoulder, your eyes leaving the picture with a light smile as Enzo didn’t tear his eyes off you.

“Y/N! oh my God here you are!” you recognized the voice making you look behind you, and Enzo finally looking somewhere that wasn’t your face.

You found the person the voice belonged to. “Oh, Maddie. Hi.” You chuckled. “I’m sorry I got a little distracted.” You turn to look at Enzo and then the boys.

Maddie’s eyes scanned the whole table as her strawberry tinted lips were opened a jar with a smile. “Hi. Madelyn Cline.” She greeted as everyone waved at her. Her eyes went back to you as she gave you a smile with a knowing look. “It’s okay you can totally stay here. I don’t mind.”

You looked at Maddie then back at the boys and at Enzo. He was quick to speak. “Te podes ir si queres. No hay problema.” He shrugged and the guys filled in into his request.

“Bueno. Disculpen. Pero fue un gusto conocerlos a todos y ojalá podamos un día volvernos a ver.” Each one of the guys got up from their seat and kissed you goodbye as they agreed with you, including Enzo. “Enzo un gusto.” Your hand rested on his arm for support and his on your waist as you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Un gusto linda.” He decided to use the pet name again for a last time tonight.

You turned your back on their table leaving with Maddie as a small smile stayed on your lips. You did hope to see all of them again, especially Enzo. There was something about his vibe and talking to him that made you feel at peace. Like you enjoyed his company.

And you honestly couldn’t wait to get his message.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic imagine #enzo vogrincic x reader #enzo vogrincic x you #enzo vogrincic one shot #enzo vogrincic blurb #enzo vogrincic fic

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temerairesummer · 2 months ago

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TEMERAIRE SUMMER EXCHANGE 2025

It's time! The Temeraire Summer Exchange is back for another amazing year of fanworks. We are looking forward to seeing the creative output of this small but mighty fandom. The Ao3 collection is here; the collection profile contains some detailed information on schedule, event format, FAQs, etc. Below are some highlights!

Schedule:

Sign-Ups Open: May 13 (5pm UTC) Sign-Ups Close: May 22 (5pm UTC) Assignments Sent: May 26 (5pm UTC) Posting Deadline: July 23 (5pm UTC) Works Reveals: July 26 (5pm UTC) Creator Reveals: August 2 (5pm UTC)

(Check what time 5pm UTC is for you)

How does this work? The first step is signing up. Sign-ups begin May 13. Once they're open, use the sign-up form in the collection before Thursday, May 22! You are required to request and offer a minimum of one character or one pairing. You must also select whether you would like to receive or offer fanart, fanfiction, photomanip, or any combination.

After sign-ups, the participants will be hand-matched to each other based on what they offered and requested and assignments will go out.

Gifts must be posted to the Temeraire Summer 2025 AO3 collection by July 23. They will appear as anonymous gifts for the recipient. Works will be made available to read on July 26, with creator names still hidden. On August 2, all creators will be revealed.

A note on the tagset and nominations: We are using the same tagset as previous years. As this tagset has grown quite robust, we are foregoing a nominations period. If there is a tag you'd like added, please nominate it in the tagset page or message the mods any time before sign-ups close. Sign-ups do not need to have opened for tag nomination.

What are the minimum requirements for participation? For writers, a fic with a minimum of 500 words. For artists, a nice/cleaned sketch on unlined paper. A photomanip/moodboard should be substantially original. Please use your discretion – and reach out to the mod team if you have questions!

If you have any further questions which aren’t answered here or on the Ao3 collection’s FAQ page, please don’t hesitate to reach out! You can send us an ask here, or email [email protected].

Additionally, the Temeraire fandom has an active Discord! Announcements will be posted to Tumblr and Discord concurrently. If you'd like to join, leave a comment, or send us an ask or an email and we'll get you a link.

Please note you will need an Ao3 account to participate in the exchange.

#temeraire #temeraire summer event 2025 #naomi novik #his majesty's dragon

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salt-clangen · 2 months ago

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Moon 18 interlude

Greenleaf/Leaffall

Welcome to law and order cat edition!

I didn’t want to make this into multiple parts so it’s pretty long.

It only took half a moon for the trial to begin.

Wolfstar attended with Lynxdawn and Dropletpaw, ready to provide evidence. Stoatfang represented all accused parties—except for Thornstrike, who was assigned separate counsel under Greyclaw. Stagtrail, a large muscular tom with short brown fur and piercing yellow eyes, served as inquisitor.

Though the two trials ran concurrently, it was clear Greyclaw held no love for his client; the look of disgust on his face told Wolfstar all she needed to know about his stance. The trial lasted a single day, from sunrise until midnight. Shadowdive arrived after sunset, staying until the end. His sudden presence put the entire camp on edge—the brutal state of Thornstrike’s injuries had already spoken volumes.

Wolfstar gave her account first, repeating her story multiple times under the scrutiny of each code keeper. Lynxdawn followed, detailing the medicines used and injuries sustained. Though it embarrassed her, Wolfstar used the opportunity to press for reparations—SaltClan’s stores had suffered.

Each member of the ambush patrol gave testimony in turn, explaining why they had followed Thornstrike’s lead—even after the truth had come out.

Clearstorm went first. He was forthright, though unable to meet anyone’s eyes. Thornstrike had approached him and Sparkclaw together. He admitted to feeling eager for action against SaltClan and didn’t question the authority of the command. After the ambush failed, he lied about rogue attackers to protect his friend.

Heavybadger spoke next. As Stoatfang’s kit and a caretaker, they had asked to bring their mother on the patrol. Thornstrike denied their request and subtly suggested that Stoatfang had fallen out of favor with leadership. Heavybadger reluctantly accepted that and didn’t press further. They’d wanted to believe in their deputy. Young—just a few moons younger than Wolfstar—this had been their first mission. They looked horrified at their own actions. They had agreed to the rogue lie out of fear.

Blackhowl followed, a large, older tom with shaggy black fur and a stub tail. His stoic demeanor made him harder to sympathize with. He was the oldest on the patrol—even older than Thornstrike—and should have known better, as Stagtrail reminded everyone. He admitted Thornstrike had organized the patrol with him days in advance and held leverage over him. At first, he refused to say what it was, but eventually Stoatfang called his mate, Cinderfur, to the stand.

Cinderfur, a dark grey elder and former camp keeper, hadn’t been at the ambush. Stoatfang and Stagtrail handled her gently. Finally, she revealed that their daughter, Nighthowl, had faked her death to live as a kittypet. Now called Mimi, she had since been abandoned by her twolegs—while pregnant. Cinderfur had been sneaking her food. Thornstrike had caught her and used it as blackmail. Blackhowl accepted full blame and asked that any punishment aimed at his mate be directed at him instead. Jaggedstar stated she would address that after the trial.

Following a brief meal break—most of the morning having been spent on Blackhowl’s testimony—the clan avoided discussing the trial. The accused were kept separate. Wolfstar used the break to introduce Dropletpaw to Ashenstep and the other historians.

Afterward, Scorchvein was called. An arrogant older molly, she had once been briefly mated to Thornstrike. Their son, Grackletail, was the result. Wolfstar had only seen her at gatherings. Scorchvein’s testimony was short—she had joined the patrol because Thornstrike asked her to. Though he had ended their relationship, she remained loyal to him. Still, the pressure of the trial pushed her to turn on him easily. She claimed she’d gone along with the rogue lie to protect her kits.

Grackletail testified next. Recently made a warrior, he admitted to wanting recognition and favor from his father. He was twitchy, anxious, with patchy fur from overgrooming. Despite his strangeness and the general disdain he received from the crowd, Wolfstar felt bad for him. He was unwell, and she hoped the clan would step in.

Gorsejump, older than Wolfstar, was more honest. They admitted to being blackmailed as well—caught exploring the twolegplace, even making friends with kittypets. Though they had no intent to leave the clan or break its rules, Thornstrike had threatened them with exile. They had assisted in planning the ambush, staking out SaltClan patrol routes in advance. When they stepped down from the stand, they gave Wolfstar a tearful, silent apology before returning to their place.

At sunset, the final two apprentices were called: Sablepaw and Shadepaw—Scorchvein’s youngest kits. Likely sired outside the clan, they stood small and nervous before the gathered cats. Stagtrail argued to separate them, but Jaggedstar allowed them to testify together.

Sablepaw was steadier, confident. She explained that their mother and Thornstrike had described the patrol as a simple border marking. When they arrived and were told to wait, she grew suspicious and questioned her mother. Shadepaw agreed, noting that Scorchvein was both his mentor and parent. During the fighting, he had wanted to run—but seeing his siblings in danger, he stayed. He had believed SaltClan had ambushed them. When the truth came out, he was the one who dragged Sablepaw away.

The two were treated gently. Shadepaw apologized repeatedly. Sablepaw defended her brothers, saying they only acted to protect her. They hadn’t known about the rogue lie—only that Scorchvein had told them to stay silent. Once dismissed, they ran to Grackletail, pressing themselves against him. Wolfstar saw Jaggedstar’s gaze soften at the sight, just as hers had.

Finally, Stagtrail called Thornstrike as his last witness. But as Wolfstar rose to her paws, she demanded to know why Sparkclaw wasn’t testifying. Jaggedstar explained she wasn’t required to—but that didn’t satisfy SaltClan’s leader.

As the argument escalated, Sparkclaw burst forward, shouting she wasn’t afraid to speak. Shadowdive stood instantly beside Wolfstar, snarling. The camp took time to calm, but eventually Jaggedstar allowed it—warning Sparkclaw to behave.

She walked with a limp. Wolfstar flinched—recognizing the paw she had bitten. Lynxdawn pressed against her; Dropletpaw tucked herself beneath her mother, trembling.

Sparkclaw’s story mirrored Clearstorm’s: she had been approached, eager to prove herself, eager to stake claim on the contested nest. She admitted she knew the attack was wrong, but fought anyway—driven by her hatred for Wolfstar. When Stagtrail asked why she ran, she hesitated.

Then came the silence. Sparkclaw lowered her gaze and spoke of a presence, a dark figure that stood at Wolfstar’s shoulder when she’d delivered her final threat. The crowd stirred with unease until Jaggedstar silenced them.

The code keepers quickly changed topics, asking why she agreed to lie about rogues. Sparkclaw hissed that she didn’t know. Wolfstar suspected it was pride—but said nothing. The crowd glanced her way, unsettled, as if she’d brought something unnatural into their midst.

At last, Sparkclaw was dismissed.

Finally, Thornstrike was called forward. He had remained in the clerics’ den for the entirety of the trial, though well within earshot. As he was led forward by Frostwhisper, Wolfstar noted with quiet unease that his wound dressings had been removed. The full extent of his injuries—raw, misshapen, and violent—were now on display. Whether this exposure was his own decision or someone else’s remained unclear.

Greyclaw stepped forward to deliver the first round of questions. His focus, as expected, was on motive. Why had Thornstrike organized an ambush without Jaggedstar’s knowledge or approval?

Thornstrike answered with a snarl. He did not temper his words, declaring Jaggedstar a coward who had gone soft on SaltClan. He accused her of abandoning DuskClan’s claim to the nest and allowing the enemy clan to take hold of it without resistance.

When asked if he had brought these concerns to Jaggedstar directly, Thornstrike admitted he had. He claimed she dismissed him, saying the clan had bigger matters to tend to than “some crummy, out-of-the-way nest.” None of this improved his position. His answers only reinforced the picture of a warrior acting alone, unsanctioned, driven by personal grievance.

Greyclaw seemed to sense the futility and shifted his line of questioning. He pivoted toward the physical cost Thornstrike had paid. It was an unspoken appeal to mercy: exile for a cat in Thornstrike’s condition might well be a death sentence.

Stagtrail had fewer questions. He asked only whether the other warriors’ testimonies had been accurate. Thornstrike, after a moment’s hesitation, confirmed that to his knowledge, they had told the truth.

The closing arguments from each codekeeper were more substantial than Thornstrike’s own testimony. Stagtrail argued that, despite the blackmail and coercion, each cat should bear some responsibility for acting without Jaggedstar’s approval. Their silence had granted SaltClan the upper paw in both conflict and diplomacy.

Stoatfang, in contrast, urged Jaggedstar to judge each cat individually. She emphasized the role of fear, inexperience, and manipulation in their decisions. The fact that so many warriors had felt unable to come forward, she argued, reflected a broader failure in the clan’s culture—not a personal failing of each accused.

Greyclaw’s remarks were brief. He commended Thornstrike for answering truthfully—if bitterly—and reminded the clan of the severity of his wounds. There was little else to add.

At last, Jaggedstar rose to address the clan. She thanked the assembled cats for their patience and for treating the trial with the gravity it deserved. She announced her intention to deliberate through the night, asking Wolfstar to remain in DuskClan until morning. She would consult with her before rendering a final decision.

A murmur of dissent passed through the crowd—some objected that this broke tradition, that judgment should be handed down before the moon fell. Jaggedstar responded calmly. She had no deputy to counsel her, and all her most trusted cats had served as codekeepers during the trial. Besides, the matter of repayment to SaltClan was yet unresolved.

Wolfstar turned to her own warriors and dismissed them with a low word. Shadowdive hesitated, casting a glance over his shoulder, but Wolfstar was firm. He was to escort Lynxdawn and Dropletpaw back to SaltClan safely and inform the clan of what had transpired. After a final nod, the trio departed into the darkness.

Wolfstar remained, stepping into the leader’s den as the crowd dispersed and the trial came to a close—for now.

Jaggedstar’s den was small and dark—just how she liked it. The gloom wrapped around her like an old friend, mirroring her shadowy pelt and offering a comfort no sunlight ever could. Her body felt leaden as she stepped inside, her paws dragging slightly with the weight of the day. She didn’t bother with dignity. The moment she crossed the threshold, she let herself collapse into her nest, her spine curving with exhaustion. No codekeepers to impress now. No clanmates to reassure. Just her and the daughter she’d once mentored.

Wolfstar followed without a word, settling into a neat loaf near the edge of the nest. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, and for a moment Jaggedstar thought about asking to wait until morning.

Instead, Wolfstar stretched one paw and murmured, “This is a mess.”

Jaggedstar let out a dry chuckle. “Let’s start with the easy ones.”

“The apprentices,” Wolfstar confirmed.

“Yes.” She shifted, her bones aching. “I think the scars from that battle—and from this trial—are punishment enough.”

“That’s two down,” Jaggedstar said, lips curling into something close to a smile. “Grackletail’s next. He’s a warrior. It’s expected that he’d face a more serious consequence.”

“He doesn’t seem well,” Wolfstar said carefully. “How long has he been pulling his fur out?”

Jaggedstar blinked, letting the question roll through her thoughts. “A long time. Since before he earned his warrior name.”

“Have the clerics offered him help?”

“I don’t think he’s asked,” she admitted, wincing inwardly at how hollow that sounded. “Why? What does this have to do with the ambush?”

“I think we both know,” Wolfstar said softly, “that between his mental state and his inexperience, he doesn’t deserve punishment.”

Jaggedstar’s ears twitched. “The clan won’t see it that way.”

“Then don’t frame it as leniency.”

Jaggedstar pondered her next words. “I’ll assign him to assist the clerics. I’ll speak with Frostwhisper—see if they can start Grackletail on something for the fur-pulling. A calming herb, maybe.”

Wolfstar hummed in approval, already shifting focus. “Clearstorm showed integrity during the battle. And Heavybadger showed remorse afterwards. That should count.”

“I’d already planned to let him and Heavybadger mentor some of Mistytail’s kits,” Jaggedstar replied, flicking her tail. “They knew that. I’ll revoke it. Confine them to camp. Have them help the keepers and tend to the elders.”

“That sounds fair.”

“Gorsejump,” Jaggedstar muttered, lying back onto her side, “I’m conflicted. They should’ve come to me when Thornstrike threatened them. But how do I punish a cat for not trusting their leader?”

Silence.

Then Wolfstar offered gently, “Maybe a re-apprenticeship? Or something close. A chance to rebuild trust.”

“Hmmm.” She considered it. “Too humiliating might backfire. But nursery duty, elder care, that would be enough and they can accompany me on patrols. A chance to see leadership in a newer light. Bridge the gap.”

Wolfstar nodded, stifling a yawn. “Now as for Blackhowl. Does his story check out?”

“I’ll go tomorrow,” Jaggedstar said. “Have him take me to his daughter.”

“If he’s telling the truth,” Wolfstar murmured, “she’ll need care. Shelter.”

“She won’t come back to DuskClan. I can feel it in my bones.” Jaggedstar glanced over. “Would SaltClan take her? Quietly, outside this trial, of course.”

“If she asks for sanctuary, she’ll have it,” Wolfstar purred, curling onto her side.

A long silence stretched between them, easy and familiar. Jaggedstar let it settle in her chest like warm tea.

“I’ll have Blackhowl serve with Gorsejump in the nursery,” she said at last. “Cinderfur’s an elder, but she can still assist the keepers. Stars above—half my warriors are going to be camp-bound.”

“We haven’t even gotten to the hard ones,” Wolfstar teased.

“Scorchvein,” Jaggedstar growled. “She’s more involved than she lets on. Whatever punishment I give Thornstrike, she’ll take it personally. I can’t have that.”

“She may be the only cat in your clan who’d stand beside him,” Wolfstar said. “And I can’t imagine why. Their fling was brief, or so I’ve heard.”

“Thornstrike can be charming when it suits him,” Jaggedstar said with a scornful smile. “Plus she’s not the type to let go so easily. I already know what I want to do. I’m going to exile her. Just half a moon.”

Wolfstar’s ears twitched. “That seems harsh, given the others.”

“I don’t care,” Jaggedstar snapped. “Stagtrail didn’t press her enough. He was too focused on Thornstrike. I can say it’s because she’s older and risked the lives of two young apprentices. That way I can get her out of the clan for a few days.”

“So when she returns, his punishment will be behind us.”

“Exactly. I’ll reassign Shadepaw to a new mentor. Bluetail would be a good fit, she’s been without an apprentice for a couple moons now im sure she’ll be good with him.”

“What about Sparkclaw? And the repayment for the herbs we had to use?” Wolfstar asked.

“We could repay them,” Jaggedstar said with a sly grin, “or we could say SaltClan demanded full claim to the abandoned nest.”

A beat passed, Wolfstar unsure she heard her right. The guileful look on her mother’s face told her enough.

“You’re devious,” Wolfstar said, eyes gleaming. “And how did that conversation go?”

“Sparkclaw will be exiled for one moon. Scorchvein for half,” Jaggedstar said plainly. “You asked for both to be exiled permanently.”

“I did?”

Jaggedstar chuckled. “Mhmm. And the execution of Thornstrike. Plus repayment for the herbs.”

“Well,” Wolfstar said dryly, “I am demanding aren’t I.”

“You’re within your rights to demand it,” Jaggedstar murmured. “But I can’t afford to lose three warriors. So I offer you this: temporary exile for Sparkclaw and Scorchvein, in exchange for the nest.”

“And Thornstrike?” Wolfstar prompted.

“Execution is too far. Instead, exile him. Leave him in the twoleg place.”

“That’s just execution with extra steps.”

“Maybe,” Jaggedstar said softly, “but it’s also mercy. If a twoleg helps him, so be it. If not, it’s no longer our burden. It sends a message: we’re merciful, but firm.”

Wolfstar’s gaze sharpened. “You’re thinking about appearances.”

“Of course I am,” she said, sitting upright. “I need to walk the line between two extremes—what my dissenters did and what the clan expects. If I kill my deputy, some will think I can’t be trusted to help a warrior who feels threatened. Some may think I only did it because SaltClan was the target. Because you were.”

“But a measured mercy,” Wolfstar said, nodding slowly, “makes you look fair.”

“Exactly. If I gave up the nest without a fight, I’d seem weak. But if I gave it up in return for three lives and a spared herb store…” She paused. “Then I’m a leader who saved her clan.”

Wolfstar smiled, warmth in her eyes now. “Clever.”

“I think we’ve covered everything,” Jaggedstar said with a sigh.

“Agreed.” Wolfstar yawned, her limbs finally slack. “Tomorrow, the verdict. Then we visit Blackhowl’s daughter.”

“You’ll stay?” Jaggedstar asked, already shifting to make space. “It’s too late to head back to SaltClan.”

Wolfstar didn’t argue. She purred as Jaggedstar curled around her, the moss warm between them.

Wolfstar remained in Jaggedstar’s den as the dusk-colored leader delivered her ruling on the trial. She peered out through the hanging lichen, watching the clan’s reactions below.

Jaggedstar began gently, excusing the apprentices and reassigning Shadepaw to Bluetail. A few cats broke the tension with murmured congratulations to the newly named mentor.

Gorsejump and Grackletail accepted their punishments with bowed heads. Wolfstar could practically smell the fear wafting off them — sharp with anxiety, bitter with shame.

Clearstorm and Heavybadger remained out of sight, but the murmurs in the clearing told Wolfstar everything. Disappointment clung to the crowd like brambles. This would have been their first time mentoring — now they’d have to wait, and wait in disgrace.

Scorchvein, by contrast, exploded.

She refused her sentence with fury, demanding to know why her eldest had received a lighter punishment. Wolfstar’s hackles rose. She clenched her jaw to hold back a growl.

A mother throwing her kit — no matter how grown — into the mud to keep her own paws clean…

It sickened her.

The clan agreed. Hisses broke out, sharp as thorns, calling for her silence.

Jaggedstar remained calm, watching the crowd settle with the patience of a mother enduring a kit’s tantrum.

She explained Scorchvein’s exile in even tones: she was older than the others, with more experience. And despite that, she’d risked the lives of her young, untrained kits — a choice that had nearly ended in tragedy.

Shadepaw had nearly lost his eye for starclan’s sake.

Scorchvein balked as Stoatfang and Rainfoot flanked her. She tried to protest, asking to stay at least to hear the details of the others’ sentences. Her voice faded into the distance, growing more shrill as she was led away.

In stark contrast, Sparkclaw said nothing when her punishment was announced — a full moon as a loner.

She didn’t argue. Didn’t speak.

Wolfstar couldn’t even see who escorted her out.

When Jaggedstar called Blackhowl forward, he stepped into the clearing with hesitant paws, his gaze flicking to Cinderfur at the back of the crowd. Jaggedstar addressed the warrior plainly: she would need proof that his daughter was alive and in need of help before she passed judgment.

Blackhowl looked taken aback. “And when I do?” he asked.

Jaggedstar answered without pause.

“Then you will spend the next two moons in the nursery with Gorsejump, assisting the queens. Cinderfur will work with the camp keepers — preparing meals, within reason, given her injuries and age.”

Blackhowl nodded slowly. It was a fair sentence, and one the clan seemed to approve of.

Finally, Jaggedstar called forth Thornstrike.

“You will not be executed,” she said. “I understand that you acted out of pride for your clan. And I cannot fault you for that. But for your lies and your failure, for the pain you helped cause… you are to be exiled.”

Not a single voice rose to protest.

Thornstrike, still scarred and blind, asked bitterly, “How am I supposed to survive like this?”

Jaggedstar turned to Addertail.

“Go to Capri’s post,” she said, “and ask for her granddaughter — Jade. Tell her we need help. Fetch Jade and meet us at the Moon Spring.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd like wind over water.

Jade? Sage? Who were these cats? How did Jaggedstar know them?

Wolfstar dipped her head, hiding a purr behind her paw.

She’d told her mother everything this morning —

About Jade and her kind sister, Sage.

About how moons ago, she and Lynxdawn had found shelter there.

About Nora, Sage’s housefolk — kind, friendly, the sort who might take in a wounded warrior, even one as wretched as Thornstrike.

Jaggedstar had been surprised Wolfstar would go so far to help the tom who’d attacked her and her apprentices.

Wolfstar had only chuckled, dry and cold.

“The longer he lives, the longer he suffers. He may heal, but his eyes won’t grow back. And every day, he’ll remember who beat him — and that it was the clan he hated most.”

Of course, Jaggedstar didn’t say that to the clan.

Instead, she framed it as one final mercy: Thornstrike would be taken to a kittypet and a twoleg who might help him. The murmuring grew louder. Shock, disbelief.

Jaggedstar didn’t wait for silence

She raised her voice and continued, announcing that the abandoned twoleg nest would now be undisputed SaltClan territory.

Some cats argued immediately, but Jaggedstar stood firm.

Given the severity of Thornstrike’s patrol’s crimes, SaltClan held the advantage. If DuskClan pushed too hard, SaltClan could call on OakClan or HoneyClan — and few would blame them for it. A full-scale war was possible.

Jaggedstar wouldn’t allow that.

“SaltClan demanded Scorchvein and Sparkclaw be exiled permanently,” she told them, “and Thornstrike executed.”

Gasps broke out across the clearing.

Wolfstar nearly laughed.

Jaggedstar pressed on, explaining that she would not lose three warriors — not with leaf-bare approaching. And despite Thornstrike’s betrayal, she refused to sentence him to death.

Some cats nodded in agreement, their faces stony and worn.

Then Jaggedstar addressed the clan’s dwindling herb stores, a problem worsened by the injuries from the rogue patrol and a poor harvest.

Wolfstar frowned at that — she hadn’t realized things were so bad.

The compromise, Jaggedstar said, was simple: in exchange for the nest, SaltClan would drop demands regarding the herb use and the full exiles. Jaggedstar mourned the loss of the territory, but she would not risk war — not when the nest was barely fruitful, not when DuskClan was strained.

The dishonor burned, she said, but with the remaining herbs and two strong warriors returning before the end of leaf-fall, they would endure.

By the time she was finished, the clan had shifted. Heads lifted. Spines straightened. A slow ripple of cheers spread across the camp.

DuskClan was hers again.

And Wolfstar, from her place in the den, watched the tide turn.

While Jaggedstar spoke with Blackhowl and Cinderfur, Wolfstar slipped away quietly to return to SaltClan. A few DuskClan cats eyed her, but Bluetail and Shadepaw nodded politely as she passed. Bluetail lifted her tail, motioning for her to pause.

“Wolfstar, Jaggedstar asked me to take you to the border,” Bluetail said.

“Thank you.” Wolfstar nodded, glancing at Shadepaw. “Congratulations on your new apprentice. Jaggedstar mentioned you had one graduate recently.”

Bluetail puffed up with pride, her earlier hostility forgotten. “Yes, I trained Inktail. They’re a fine code keeper.”

Wolfstar smiled, letting the blue molly lead the way.

“Do you mind if Shadepaw joins us?” Bluetail asked, watching her closely.

“Of course not,” Wolfstar replied, nodding to the nervous apprentice. “It’s not a very exciting walk.”

Shadepaw chuckled awkwardly as he followed, head low. “I think I’ve had enough excitement to last a season.”

“Don’t jinx it, kit,” Bluetail huffed, though it was half-hearted. She walked ahead, tail flicking. “When escorting a cat, someone leads and someone follows. That way if anything strange happens, a DuskClan cat will notice first and act.”

Wolfstar didn’t respond, but the lesson made her smile. Bluetail was a few seasons older, a code keeper trained by Jaggedstar. She could recognize a passed-down teaching.

The walk was brief. Bluetail spoke mostly to her apprentice, pointing out landmarks so even if he was half-blind he could find his way. When they reached the border, the trio bowed politely. Shadepaw hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something.

“Go on, spit it out before she’s gone,” Bluetail huffed. His tail puffed at her words. “No one else is listening.”

Wolfstar waited patiently as the apprentice scuffed his paws in the dirt. Neither adult rushed him.

“I’m sorry for the ambush,” he mumbled. “If I’d known… I wouldn’t have gone.”

Wolfstar purred gently and glanced at Bluetail, who gave a small nod. She stepped forward and touched her nose to Shadepaw’s forehead.

“It must’ve been scary—your first battle, protecting your sister and kin,” she said softly. “You did your best. Don’t let it weigh you down.”

Shadepaw didn’t cry, but he looked like he wanted to. Bluetail said nothing, though her silence wasn’t judgmental. He turned away to face her instead, and with a final nod, the warriors separated.

Back in camp, Wolfstar gave a brief update before calling Lynxdawn and asking her to prepare a basket and come along.

Of course, half the camp tried to follow, but Wolfstar firmly told them she was visiting a former DuskClan queen who might need help. Shadowdive and Mallowstripe caught her just before she left, pressing close and grooming her.

“You smell like a pine tree,” Shadowdive muttered under his breath.

She laughed and almost dunked herself in a tide pool before setting off.

Lynxdawn instructed Ripplepaw and Otterpaw to help Mallowstripe prepare hot water for a bath. She told Snowspeckle to make a nets in the nursery. Then, basket in tow, she and Wolfstar returned to the abandoned nest, pausing along the way to refresh the border.

“Wolfstar,” came Jaggedstar’s voice before the patrol was even in view. “We’re ready.”

Flanking her were Blackhowl and Cinderfur. The older molly hobbled stiffly but kept pace.

“Lead the way,” Wolfstar said with a nod to Blackhowl.

The group set off in silence, crossing into Twolegplace. The outer edges of the neighborhood were overgrown and crumbling, the fences sagging. The scent of prey lingered alongside that of other cats—likely a favored hunting spot.

They approached a peculiar structure that looked half-monster, its body fused to large black wheels. It hadn’t moved in moons; grass grew thick around its base. From beneath a brush pile, a pair of wide eyes blinked.

“Mom? Dad?” Nighthowl’s voice was hoarse, startled.

She bolted—but barely made it a few fox-lengths before Wolfstar stepped in front of her. Face to face now, the younger molly dropped to the ground, belly pressed to the dirt.

Once, she might’ve been the mirror of her father. Now, Nighthowl was a wraith. Her black coat hung like loose leather over sharp ribs, her belly swollen—was it pregnancy, or worms?

“Nighthowl, it’s alright.” Cinderfur limped forward, draping her tail over her daughter.

“I’m Lynxdawn,” the cleric said gently, placing the basket down. “This is Wolfstar, SaltClan’s leader.”

Wolfstar offered a warm smile, though Nighthowl’s eyes darted frantically.

“We brought supplies,” she said softly. “Cinderfur told us your Twolegs left you.”

Nighthowl trembled, glancing to her mother. Blackhowl stepped in to nuzzle her cheek.

“They left last moon,” Nighthowl whispered. “I found out I was pregnant a few days after.”

“Here, have some minnows,” Lynxdawn offered, pulling a pawful from the basket. “I brought chamomile, burnet, and raspberry leaves too. Are you feeling sick?”

Nighthowl looked to Jaggedstar. “What’s going on? I’ve never heard of this clan.”

“They’re new,” Cinderfur explained. “Wolfstar is Jaggedstar’s kit. They want to help.”

The queen fluffed up, anxiety thick in her scent. Wolfstar leaned close, touching noses. From here, she could see bald patches, dull fur, a faint stink of infection.

“We have a place for you, if you want it,” Wolfstar said. “SaltClan would welcome you.”

“No, no—I can’t hunt, I can’t fight.” Nighthowl’s eyes misted. “I’m useless!”

Her parents pressed close.

“You’re not useless!”

“There’s plenty you can do!”

Wolfstar snorted, startling the group. Her ear flicked.

“I don’t care,” she said simply.

The others froze.

“I don’t care if you can’t contribute a single thing to the clan,” she continued. “You’re pregnant. You’re starving. You need help, and we can help you. That’s what matters.”

After a long moment, Nighthowl nodded.

Lynxdawn gave her strengthening herbs and more minnows. On the walk back, it became clear how weak she was. She stumbled often, bumping into everything. Her nerves were obvious, but eventually, they reached the SaltClan border.

Jaggedstar and the Saltclan pair sat on opposite ends of the crumbling nest, waiting as the family spoke privately. Once goodbyes were said, the trio set off.

SaltClan’s camp overwhelmed her. She trembled, watching each cat approach with curious stares. One by one, they came to greet her. Lynxdawn never left her side as Wolfstar introduced her and gave orders for the day.

“Oh, you must be exhausted! I’m Snowspeckle, deputy and artisan. This is my apprentice, Kelppaw,” she said warmly. “And this is Coralpaw, our mediator apprentice. We’ve made you a nest in the nursery.”

“Th-thank you.” Nighthowl ducked her head.

“We’ve prepared a bath,” Lynxdawn added. “We’ll need to treat you for fleas and worms.”

She gestured to Mallowstripe and Otterpaw. “Bring the large tub we got from Capri’s,” she told Otterpaw. “And we’ll start filling it.”

“To feed her,” she added to Mallowstripe, “offer small, frequent meals. Soup and stews, nothing too heavy or chunky. No mash yet—we’ll ease her back into eating.”

Nighthowl stayed silent, taking in the camp. She didn’t recognize anyone from her past, though she noticed a few suspicious stares. The black molly near the deputy looked wary, as did a large brown tabby. But Wolfstar’s warm gaze and gentle touch were enough for now.

The tub was large—too large for clan-made tools. Wolfstar explained it came from the trading post. Jade had called the material “plastic.”

Several cats worked to fill it with hot water, mixing in sea water from the tide pools. Lynxdawn stirred it with her paw, ensuring it was the right temperature.

A smaller black molly approached with a basket. “Here’s what you prepared earlier.”

“Thanks, Thistle,” Lynxdawn chirped.

She poured in lavender oil first. “Good for fleas,” she explained. Then yarrow oil. “It helps clean and loosen mats.”

Thistle nodded along to the explanation, taking the empty jars and bowls as the cleric worked.

The bath wasn’t exactly comfortable, but the warm water soothed Nighthowl after the long journey. Wolfstar stayed close, helping work the oils into her tangled coat.

Otterpaw returned again, a bundle of herbs clenched in his jaws. He dropped them by the bath with a soft thump, then quickly sat back as if unsure whether to stay. Lynxdawn nodded gratefully, already sorting through the bundle with her paws.

Nighthowl sat hunched in the water, her body rigid. Her tail had uncoiled, hanging limp in the bath, and the mats of her fur sagged now that they were wet. Her eyes stared ahead, fixed on nothing. She didn’t flinch when Mallowstripe padded into view with a bowl of thin broth, or when Ripplepaw brought over a pale, sand-smoothed shell.

The younger apprentice dipped the shell in and carefully let water run over Nighthowl’s shoulders. She didn’t react. She breathed. That was all.

“We’re going to start trimming, alright?” Lynxdawn’s voice was low, calm. “This will help with the mats. You’re safe.”

She didn’t wait for a response—none came—but instead nodded to Mallowstripe. The cook stepped forward and offered her the soup first. “It’s just broth, fish bone stock,” he said. “Soft. Easy.”

Nighthowl blinked. Her head twitched toward the bowl like she had just noticed it. She took one lap. Then another.

The sharpened shell in Lynxdawn’s grip glinted faintly as she worked. Her paws were precise, steady, tracing along the worst of the matting. The wet clumps came away slowly, sliding into the water or landing in little heaps beside the bath.

Mallowstripe crouched by Nighthowl’s other side, ready with a pawful of moss to wipe away each trimmed section.

Still, Nighthowl didn’t move. Her breath was steady but shallow. Her ears were slightly tilted back, her posture frozen between collapse and withdrawal. When Ripplepaw brushed her shoulder with his tail, she flinched so hard the water rippled.

“Easy,” Lynxdawn murmured. “You’re doing fine. We’ve got you.”

A heavy silence fell over the grooming. Only the soft splashes of water and the wet scrape of shell against fur filled the air. A few times, Mallowstripe whispered something reassuring, but Nighthowl didn’t seem to hear.

Finally, when most of the thickest mats had been removed and her fur lay wet but flat, Lynxdawn stepped back. “That’s enough for now. Let’s get you dried and warm.”

She didn’t speak.

Otterpaw helped her step out of the tub, leading her to the oven fire. She kept her eyes downcast as several cats began sharing tongues with her, another small bowl given to her. Raspberry leaf tea, she tried to focus on drinking. She dried quickly, less fur to worry about, Lynxdawn encouraged her to stand again.

They wrapped her in the leathers, guiding her toward the nursery. She walked like a ghost, as if her body was still deciding whether or not it belonged here.

Wolfstar stood aside as she passed. She didn’t say anything either. She just watched.

Snowspeckle and Mallowstripe had already prepared a nest. Briarkit peeked from the far side of the den but didn’t approach. The air was hushed, reverent.

Nighthowl collapsed into the nest without protest. For a moment, she simply lay there, eyes wide, curled up like she was bracing for claws.

Instead, Snowspeckle crouched near the entrance, her voice low as she glanced toward Wolfstar. “She’s quiet, but resting.”

Wolfstar nodded. Her jaw was tight. “Good. Let her sleep.”

Together they left the nursery.

Outside, Lynxdawn leaned close to Mallowstripe. “Can you stay with her tonight? See if she has any meaningful dreams.”

He nodded, tail low. “I’ll make a stew of mushrooms and hare for her in the morning.”

Mallowstripe entered the den quietly, lying by the entrance, Nighthowl didn’t seem to hear him. Or if she did, she gave no sign.

Cat allegiances:

Wolfstar- 24 moons. Leader. Responsible. Compassionate. Natural intuition. Apprentice- Ripplepaw & Dropletpaw.

Lynxdawn- 19 moons. Lead Cleric. Thoughtful. Faithful. Good teacher.

Snowspeckle- 35 moons. Deputy. Artisan. Loving. Thoughtful. Good singer. Apprentice- Kelppaw

Nighthowl- 75 moons. Former kittypet. Insecure. Lonesome. Watches humans. Condition: pregnant. Torn pelt.

Nightleap- 39 moons. Warrior. Insecure. Sneaky. Incredible runner. Apprentice- Coralpaw.

Thistle-29 moons. Warrior. Troublesome. Thoughtful. Keen eye. Condition: Broken back & recovering from birth.

Mallowstripe- 25 moons. Camp keeper. Nervous. Careful. Strange dreamer.

Shadowdive- 23 moons. Warrior. Blood thirsty. Loyal. Good swimmer. Apprentice- Otterpaw & Sandpaw.

Ripplepaw - 11 moons. Warrior apprentice. Troublesome. Adventurous. Fast runner. Mentor- Wolfstar.

Otterpaw - 11 moons. Warrior apprentice. Insecure. Childish. Good swimmer. Mentor- Shadowdive.

Dropletpaw- 6 moons. Historian apprentice. Skittish. Shy. Interested in clan history.

Kelppaw- 6 moons. Artisan apprentice. Charming. Quiet. Plays in mud.

Coralpaw- 6 moons. Mediator apprentice. Noisy. Bossy. Never sits still.

Sandpaw- 6 moons. Warrior apprentice. Impulsive. Noisy. Moss ball hunter

Briarkit- 1/2 moon. Inquisitive. Shy. Picky nest builder.

Moon 0

#clangen #warrior cats #wc #saltclan #saltclan moon update #moon 18.5 #moon 18 #moon 19

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