#Its so wild to me that there are some people out there who don't see Rudyard as aroace | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eldritch-spouse · 6 months

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You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.

You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.

“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”

You feel a tentacle around your ankles

[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]

TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.

It was a stupid idea.

You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.

You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.

You just wanted to escape.

And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.

You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.

It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...

Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.

Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.

You're going to die.

A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.

You don't want to die.

But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.

It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.

Finally.

You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.

If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?

You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.

Eh. You can stomach it...

God, you're starving.

One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.

You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?

Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?

Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.

You huddle closer to the small fire.

Alone.

But always so on edge.

Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.

The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!

The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.

Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?

Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?

Something stalking.

A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.

Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...

Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?

...

Just eat the fucking fish already.

Food.

Focus on the present.

The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?

You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.

You'll see.

Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.

It's... Well, it's sustenance.

It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.

This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.

A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.

You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.

Nothing.

Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.

Huh.

What the fuck is that thing?

Tall.

Two legs...

Arms?!

Shit- Could it be?!

That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.

Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.

That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.

" H- Hey... "

You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.

But you need to at least try, right?

The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.

With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!

" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "

Nothing.

There's no one.

But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?

No. Everything's wrong.

Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.

Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.

Why is this happening to you?

Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?

Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.

The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.

The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.

You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!

The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.

Yeah.

Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.

Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...

You almost wish you hadn't.

Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.

Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.

Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.

From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.

That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.

Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.

An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.

And yet, he just stares.

Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.

You stare back.

This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.

Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.

Odd.

Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.

And then, it makes this chitter.

Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.

They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...

They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.

Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.

The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.

Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.

Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.

In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.

Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.

He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.

When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.

" H- Hi? "

A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.

One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.

Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.

But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.

When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.

When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.

You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.

Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.

And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.

It was only a little flick.

But naturally, he felt it.

The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.

The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.

Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.

The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.

Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.

There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.

There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.

Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.

Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.

Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.

You should not have opened your mouth.

But you did.

And he visibly brightened up.

The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.

And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.

While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.

Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?

That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?

Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.

Instinct takes over.

Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.

And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.

It should not arouse you.

It should horrify you.

... But it doesn't.

Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?

Who knows anymore.

All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.

You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.

Then it appears to click.

You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.

And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.

He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.

Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?

Too many, probably.

Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?

Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.

Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.

And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.

He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.

No, literally.

The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.

You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.

Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.

He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.

Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.

He shouldn't be that far in you.

You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.

He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.

Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.

You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.

So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.

There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.

It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.

By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.

You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.

The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.

It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.

Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.

" ... Try putting one in. "

You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.

He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.

You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-

But a branch snaps in the distance.

And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.

His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.

In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.

Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!

Finally, people came looking for you!

The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.

Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.

You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.

His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...

And leaving your saviors in the dust.

#Sever oc #terato tag #monsterfucker #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster x reader #monster x you #minors dni #not sfw

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buckyalpine · 11 months

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Winter soldier x reader ft sex pollen

Unhinged winter soldier with sex pollen. This is wildly inappropriate (with some fluff?...) but I thought of it so you must all suffer with me. Imagine Hydra filling the room with sex pollen immediately after Buck is wiped, sending him out at in his most feral state in hopes that the winter soldier will lose control and give into the urges they've forced into him. They need him to breed another super soldier since they were unable to replicate the serum in his veins.

As soon as the dust fills the room, his pupils dilate, his tac suit far too hot, his veins pumping so hard they feel like they're going to burst. The straps holding him down release and his chest is heaving, trying to calm down the primal needs hes feeling, pain prickling his skin the longer he stays in the room. He grunts, striding out of the room and into the night, chasing a craving he has to get out.

He moves without a soul detecting him, until a sweet scent catches his attention. Floral, natural, innocent. Fertile. He's suddenly hyper focused on the thing his body is screaming for, following the unsuspecting woman, his teeth grinding through the pain. She enters a building and he observes each window before seeing a lights turn on, her nude silhouette appearing through the curtains.

It takes no effort for him to climb up the fire escape, easily prying the locked window open only to be met with the sound of the shower running. Her scent permeates all his senses and he nearly strips off all his clothes then and there, the pollen causing lust that makes his bones ache. The water shuts off and hes waiting like a predator waiting for its prey, sitting perfectly still while the door clicks open. She gasps and freezes in place and he sight alone makes him growl.

Pathetic little bunny.

"Who-who are you" she whispers, clutching her towel tightly together though it's not like she didn't know. Tears fill her eyes seeing the deadly soldier people spoke about, unsure if he even existed, the very rumor now sitting on her bed. He doesn't anything, groaning at the feeling of his arousal steadily dripping from his cock, palming his erection.

"Please-don't" She shakes her head, seeing his hardness pressing against his pants, his large presence suffocating because she knows there's no where to run. He slips his mask off, revealing his dangerously handsome face, his eyes wild with lust and need.

"But I have to" He grits out, stalking over to her and grabbing her by the waist, burying his nose in her freshly washed hair, deeply groaning at the scent of her bodywash, "mne eto nuzhno, zayka" [I need this, bunny]

"No-I-I'll do anything-" She trembles, squeezing her eyes shut feeling his warm wet tongue lick up her neck as his mismatched hands rip her towel away, pulling her hips flush against his cock. The rough material of his tactical hear scratches her soft skin, making her whimper when when he bites her shoulder.

"takoy myagkiy krolik" [such a soft bunny] He throws her like a doll, her ass bouncing off the mattress, flat on her back back while he undoes his pants, pulling his cock out. She squeezes her legs shut, shaking her head, his fat bobbing length taunting her as he pumps himself while crawling onto the bed.

"It hurts bunny" He groans, forcing her legs apart, her natural scent nearly causing pain as he stares at her pussy. Her button between her legs involuntarily twitches and he pinches it hard making her squeal, the sound causing a drop of precum to spill out.

His head is so focused on getting his release, he doesn't bother prepping her, shoving his cock into her tight cunt, grunting and forcing his length in when he feels resistance. He stars to fuck her hard, holding both wrists in his metal hand, keeping her pinned under him while he splits her open.

"Hurts-too much-to big-stop-" She gasps out her pained cries melting into muddled moans of pleasure, her own body betraying her, feeling her own warmth wetting his cock making it easier for him to slip in and out. "Oh god-soldat-stop-don't-

"You're wet" He hisses, almost accusatorily, pounding her harder, faster until the bed shakes and scratches the floor, the serum pumping in his veins making his cock sensitive.

"I need this-I need it" Sweat beads at his forehead, his balls feeling heavier than usual, the pollen causing his body to produce more semen than he naturally would.

"YA chuvstvuyu zapakh, kakoy ty mokryy, zayka" [I can smell how wet you are bunny] His balls throb painfully, his cock ready to burst as his thrusts become more erratic. He snarled against her neck as pleasure starts to lick up his spine, the bruising grip on her wrists tightening as he starts to pump her full of his load without warning.

She whimpers feeling shame for the delicious stretch of his cock, her cunt fluttering, swollen from his abusive pace. She finds herself flipped over with her ass in the air, her face pressed against the sheets, his cock rock hard again, prodding at her puffy folds.

"Not done-need more" he growls lowly, stripping his clothes off, his body heat dialed to 100. His crotch is covered in cum, a mix of his and hers, the smell of her driving him insane as he grabs her hips and slams her to meet his thrusts again. He has more power at this angle, fucking her like a mad man, groaning with his head thrown back, eyes rolled to the back of his head, only focused on pleasuring his cock.

"Ty shlyukha Zimnego soldata, ty voz'mesh' to, chto ya tebe dayu" [You're the winter soldier's whore, you'll take what I give you] He's at his most unhinged, grunting and groaning, fucking her like an animal, her muffled screams only causing his cock to swell more. "Make me feel good, make it go away bunny"

"Soldat please stop-too big" she begs and he fucks her harder, making her moan, pulling another orgasm out of her body even if she fought against it. His thighs meet the back of hers, rolling and rocking his hips, hitting her cervix until her sweet juices squirt out of her, obscene sounds of skin on skin filling he room. "SOLDAT"

"I have to breed you bunny" He shakes his head, unwilling to leave until he's sure she's pregnant with his child, forcing every bit of his cum into her. "My fertile little bunny" He nips your skin, running his hands over her tummy, imaging it firm and round with his baby growing inside. He loved the thought of such an unsuspecting, sweet angel carrying the child of he soldier, all of his cum making a mess in her pussy.

By the last round, the pollen has started to dissipate and the cloud is lifting. He pants, still rutting into her pussy, something tugging at his conscious, shaking his head when the lusty animalistic haze weavers.

"T-tell me your name" He rasps, his heart beating wildly, loosening his grip on her. She whimpers from pain and to her surprise, he slowly down, still grinding himself in, burying her face into her neck. "zayka, pozhaluysta" [bunny, please]

"Y/n" she whispers, unsure of why she told him, her voice catching in her throat when his lips press against her skin. She's limp in his hold, the smell of sex permeating the room, the sheets soaked with his cum, but nothing more full than her cunt.

"Y/n" He moans, his body trembling as he nears the end of his final release, stilling till he's milked himself dry, her soft body worn under him. Something is wrong, he can feel it, the emotionless control he had before, slipping from his grasp. He yearns to hold the woman in his arms but he can't .Something stops him.

His movements are robotic as he pulls away and slips his clothes back on, memories unfamiliar to him flashing through his mind.

He wasn't the soldier.

He was-

Her soft snores pull her from his spiral, looking up to seeing her sleeping form, fucked out from the way he'd ruined her. He frowns at the unfamiliar feeling of concern he's experiencing, pulling the covers over her body.

"Thank you bunny" He whispers, making her whine in her sleep, calling for the soldier.

"I'm-

He shakes his head, his previously wild replaced with those of a young man from Brooklyn.

"B-Bucky"

3K notes · View notes

the-californicationist · 1 month

Text

The Old Way

Listen... I don't even know what I'm on with this. Just... don't judge me. Omfg what is wrong with me.

AO3 Link -- TW: omegaverse wildness, biting, blood, etc.

Your people are starving, and your clan's Alpha has asked you, their only remaining Omega, to give yourself up as a sacrifice to save them. So, you agree, and you are to be mated to one of the Alphas of Clan 141, praying that it is to any of them except Alpha Price. He is known to have a knot that is impossible to take, but when you finally meet him, you're not sure of what's possible anymore. Will you risk it all to be with him, even if his knot might kill you? One way to find out…

The Old Way

You couldn’t see the stars. The shroud that hung over your head was made from fine, black silk, and through its thin organza, you could barely make out the shape of the Watcher in front of you, much less the glittering galactic expanse overhead. You were wrapped like a gift, and if you wanted to save the lives of everyone you’d ever loved, you would remain cloaked in your darkness, hidden, waiting for your big moment. More than anything, you wanted to pull your veil away from your eyes just to see the familiar constellations again, to comfort yourself with their shapes, to make one last independent choice before all of your volition was stolen from you forever.

That wasn’t the right word. You couldn’t steal something that was given freely. You were not bound, and you were certainly not forced to wear the shadowed veil against your will. You had selected this path for yourself, and now you were living through the consequences of that decision.

As the only Omega in your clan – the first one born in seventy years – you were raised on the knowledge that you may one day be asked to give up your life for your clan. After the war, life was hard, and now that your people were stuck in a seemingly endless drought, it had become even more desperate. Your clan leader, Alpha Roan, had come to you six weeks ago with a terrible look in his eyes, a palpable guilt, still wearing his mourning collar for his long-lost mate, Omega Kiran, and he had asked you if you would be willing to undergo The Exchange.

His own wife had come to your clan through The Exchange, and although they had chosen to perform a private ceremony, you knew that it had been a challenge for her. Before she died, she had taught you much about your role, but you were still a youngling, and some things were just not for you to hear at such an age.

You thought about the years that had passed after the loss of your clan’s Omega. Alpha Roan had insisted on your education, and your training, but the idea that you would be asked to leave your clan through The Exchange was always a distant threat. But, now, here it was. You had been called by your Alpha to sacrifice yourself for their benefit; not in a marriage of love, but in a clan trade.

You had been asked by your Alpha to think about your choice. After he left you to ponder your choice, you sat down in your chambers surrounded by your Watchers, the women who had raised you, who had taught you to read, to write, to fight, and to charm. They looked at you with the same guilty, knowing eyes, and they asked you if you were prepared to make the sacrifice.

“You do know what awaits you at the end of The Exchange, don’t you, Omega?” Watcher Trinity had asked you quietly, holding your hands in her shaking fingers, the wrinkled skin of her knuckles folding and stretching over her thin bones.

You nodded, “Yes, Watcher. I am to be given to a new Alpha.”

She had looked at you then, her eyes sharp and calculating, trying to figure out how she would ask her next question.

“Do you know the way in which you will be given, Omega?”

Her tone chilled your heart, sinking through your body like ice across a pond, freezing you in place. You waited. There was more that she needed to say, and you allowed her to explain.

And now that you knew the truth, you felt fully prepared to accept the terms of the agreement. You would deliver your people from their strife, and any pain, any shame, and any horror that you experienced from this point onward would be in service to your clan. You hoped that would be enough solace to sustain you. There was no shame in your sacrifice, you knew that. But, in your soul, you knew that knowing a thing and experiencing a thing were two vastly disparate sides of the same coin.

You informed your clan Alpha, holding your chin high,

“I accept the terms of The Exchange, Alpha Roan.”

“Your people are forever in your debt, Omega. Watchers,” he addressed your caregivers, “Please make preparations in the old way of our clan.”

“The old way, Alpha Roan?” Watcher Trinity had asked, her voice giving away her apprehension.

“Yes, Watcher. We will follow the law, no matter how… upsetting it may be. Clan 141 is too powerful for us to take any undue risks. If they do not accept her, we may not survive their engagement.”

Even in your sheltered little academy, you had heard of Clan 141. Their clan was small, but it was deeply feared. If any other clan dared step out of line, the 141 were there to rain hellfire and destruction down on them until there was nothing left. They were not cruel, but they abided no violent acts in their territory, and any whisper of rekindling the war efforts or of superseding the peace treaty was dealt with swiftly and decisively.

Before the war, kings and presidents and generals had pulled the strings. Now that the world lay in ruins, the 141 was the only thing between your small clan and total destruction from larger, more aggressive packs. The 141 was the only reason your people still had other clans to trade with; they had made sure smaller communities had access to fair market costs for food and services, and no one dared to shun your merchants now that you were under their protective wing.

Your Watchers had done their best to ease you into your preparations. Clan 141 would be at the neutral ground in six weeks, and your team had tried to make every moment of that window meaningful in your training. They had started slowly, teaching you to stretch your untouched hole with your fingers, showing you diagrams and depictions of your own anatomy, warning you of the physical trial of taking an Alpha’s knot.

It was mortifying when you endured your first test. Watcher Gillar and Watcher Bhin had made you sit in front of a mirror and show them your progress. You were told to clench and release the muscles of your hole on command, fluttering it to prove its strength. Then, they had produced a carved, glass phallus, expecting you to practice on a smaller model before moving you up to a more advanced size.

You took it from their hands, looking at its curved, rigid shape with wide-eyed curiosity, trying to swallow your grief at being seen doing the unthinkable by people you considered to be your closest friends and caregivers. It almost made you regret your decision. But, your people needed you, so you rested the smooth tip of the phallus at the entrance of your hole and began to shove it inside of yourself.

This new feeling was overwriting your mind, so alien and yet so very comforting to you, confounding in its sensations yet overwhelming in its unique, bright pleasure.

It was a struggle, but you managed to slip it into your body almost down to the large, bulbous knot on the end. The sharp pain of being entered for the first time was not as terrible as you had feared, but when you pulled the phallic rod back out of you, it was cloudy with your slick and your blood.

“Try the knot, Omega. Your Alpha will be twice as large as this, at least. You do not want your first experience to be at the ceremony. I know that you will want to appear strong in front of the other clans.” Watcher Bhin encouraged you, holding you to her shoulder as she sat behind you, trying her best to comfort you through such a harrowing ordeal.

You put their practice cock back inside of you, slipping down further than you had, feeling the wide anatomy pressing against your entrance, but still unable to take the full knot inside. You pushed and pulled with your muscles, just like your Watchers had taught you, but it wouldn’t budge. You were panting, sweating, and teetering on the edge of an embarrassing orgasm in front of your Watchers, and you gasped out, exasperated,

“I can’t. I don’t think I can do this, Watcher.”

“Lay back, Omega. I will help you,” Watcher Gillar said softly, replacing your hand with hers at the base of the phallus.

You lay down on your back against your soft pillows, trying to avoid your Watchers’ pitying eyes. Then, you felt a cool gel being applied around the sore ring of your hole; something to ease the way since there was no true Alpha present to coax your slick from your glands. Watcher Bhin had held your hand in hers, gripping you tightly, letting you squeeze her through the pain, wiping away your tears as the glass bulb of the pretend knot began to split you, stretching your body before finally popping into place.

You Watchers had comforted you for a few minutes, but then you were told to begin your meditations.

With much difficulty, you sat up, feeling the heavy knot nestled against your walls. Then, Watcher Bhin handed you a firm pillow, and you understood that you must straddle it, and that it would push the knot against you. You were to train your body and your mind to accept it so that you would have the stamina to withstand the ceremony.

“Do not be afraid to listen to your body, Omega. We will return to help you remove it and recover. I will light some incense for you. Concentrate on your strength.”

You nodded, uncrossing your legs and settling yourself over the firm pillow, feeling the deep, sacral grind of the phallus as you set your weight against it. When you were left alone, you began your breathing techniques, but all the while, a flush was rushing across your skin, the shadow of a rising desire to come, and yet subtly different. Something whispered in your mind, and you wondered if you could call your slick down yourself, without an Alpha’s help.

So, you tried, rocking back and forth across the pillow, churning the knot within your core, feeling the rounded tip rubbing against your deepest parts. You removed your robes, letting the flush keep you warm, watching yourself in the tall mirror, meeting your own eyes.

It took only minutes before a true orgasm was upon you, but you tried to hold it at bay, searching through the sparkling, cracking fog of pleasure for the part of you that made you special. No Beta would survive a knotting; they never did, and it was a crime to even try. But, you were meant for it, and you knew that your Watchers’ training would not let you down. You breathed through the bliss, reaching out with your mind towards your slick, imagining it, visualizing your success, manifesting it deep within you.

When the Watchers found you later that night, they woke you with cool rags and worried faces,

“What happened, Omega? How did you…” Watcher Gillar looked down at your bare legs to where the pillow sat under you, seeing a torrent of slick and milky come covering your skin and the silk of the bolster, confused by how you could produce it without an Alpha’s beckoning call. It was just not done, not even considered to be a possibility.

After that night, there was much chatter amongst the Watchers. They consulted old tomes, dusting off the pages in the library of your little academy where you trained far away from the rest of your village, kept up here in your tower like a Delphic oracle, buried like a treasure.

The training became more intense, and each practice phallus that your Watchers produced became harder and heavier, each bearing knots that were unfathomably large. You used your newfound power to face each of your challenges, less ashamed now to perform in front of your team, but knowing that the ceremony would be something else entirely.

You had asked about it one night as your Watchers were helping you bathe after a particularly difficult practice session,

“Will there truly be none absent from the ceremony, Watcher Trinity?”

“Only the cubs and their mothers are forbidden from attending. Otherwise, all clan members are obligated to witness The Exchange. We will even invite Clan Farlight and Clan Seres to the feast as a token of goodwill. You know this, Omega,” her tone was a little impatient, wondering why you were asking such a basic question, “Your Alpha has asked for your ceremony to be conducted in the old way, according to the original scrolls.”

“I am worried that I will dishonor you with my abilities. I cannot seem to take even these false knots without tears,” you repeated the old scripture, chanting it rote to your Watcher just as you used to do when you had started your adult training, “Omegas are vessels. They will silently submit. The ceremony will be still, honoring the sacrifice.”

Watcher Trinity knelt down beside your bath and made you look at her. Her eyes softened, and she told you,

“Yes, that is what is written, but it is not that simple. You have already honored us with your sacrifice. We have no grain. We have skinny, milkless goats, and our well is nearly dry. When we feast after your ceremony, the full bellies of your people will mean so much more than any perceived weakness that you are reluctant to show.” She grabbed your hand out of the warm water, holding it in hers, “If you need to cry, we will understand, and we will be comforting you from the crowd. Trust me, Omega.”

You tried to put it all out of your mind as you marched down the path, following behind your Watchers as they surrounded you, adorned in their own ceremonial garb. They had worn their armor and their long, red robes, carrying huge, black scythes like walking sticks, as was the custom of your clan. Your Alpha was walking in the front of your pack, guiding your clan to the meeting point. You could just see the white, canvas tops of the tents and yurts that had been constructed for the ceremony, meant to house hundreds of people for at least three days. Yours was the biggest, its adornment the most splendid. But that was little comfort to your frayed nerves.

You were miles from home at this point, missing the comfort of your room and your books, knowing that you would never return there, and that perhaps your new Alpha would not allow you to keep any of your belongings from your old life.

You’d heard horror stories from some of the Betas in your clan, tales of Alphas who used their Omegas like slaves, keeping them clad in irons, surviving in dark dungeons only to be used to breed and to give their Alphas carnal pleasure.

While you were being prepared for this journey, a pair of Beta women had helped you paint your skin, drawing intricate symbols and prayers in gold flake, chittering about the ceremony and the feast without knowing what you had been through over the past six weeks.

“This is the first time I will witness a ceremony done in the old way,” Beta Lilia said.

“Do you know which Alpha will claim you?” Lilia’s friend, Beta Tyran, asked you, not knowing how loaded her words were.

You shook your head; you didn’t even know how many Alphas belonged to Clan 141. Lilia gushed about them for you, taking the conversation out of your hands,

“Clan 141 has four Alphas! Can you imagine? I hear that they have an entire army of Omegas as well. Alpha Garrick is so handsome, and he has three gorgeous Omegas. They are almost too beautiful to look upon.. I saw him when I was at the central market once. He was leading a team, hunting the vagabonds who set fire to a farmer’s field, you remember when that happened? It was years ago now. He was so imposing. But, that other one was there, too.”

She made a face that was strong enough to make you ask about it,

“Which one?”

“The Ghost, Alpha Riley. They say that no one has seen his face. He wears a terrifying skull mask. I heard from Yair that he has three Omegas as his guards, all masked as well. Yes! Guards! They have armor and weapons and huge, bulging muscles. Beautiful and lethal –”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Beta Tyran interrupted, “No one would give their Omegas weapons. No one would let their Omegas out in the public markets! Imagine the danger.”

Lilia shrugged, “Yair said that these Omegas were the danger.”

Then, you heard about Alpha MacTavish, a descendant from one of the ancient warlords, charming and fearsome. He kept two Omegas as his brides, always pregnant, but almost as fearsome as Alpha Riley’s guards. Alpha MacTavish often expected them to travel with their Beta friends, to take their children up into the mountains, hunting and fishing and exploring outdoors. All sorts of stories about his large, loving family. You silently hoped you would be claimed by him. It would be nice to live amongst Omegas and their cubs.

“Which one is their Apex Alpha? There must be one in a clan with so many Alphas,” you mused, asking the girls since you did not know much about Clan 141 yourself.

The Betas shared a look, and then Lilia shook her head,

“You will not be claimed by him, Omega. Don’t worry.”

“Why?” You pried, using your influence to force her to tell you.

“His name is Alpha Price, the leader of Clan 141. He’s the deadliest man in the entire land, and he’s the one who destroyed Clan Konni.”

The weight of that news sank in, and the dramatic tone of her story had attracted other Betas and Watchers to gather around you to listen to her tale,

“Alpha Price has never claimed an Omega. They say that he had tried. He had found one of Alpha Garrick’s Omegas to be very pretty, but she tried to take his knot and failed, so Alpha Garrick took her under his protection instead.”

“Failed?” Watcher Bhin asked, shocked by the implication.

“My sister was a medic who served with the Alliance in the most recent skirmish, and the 141 helped defeat the rebels who were killing members of Clan Darrah a few years ago. She said that she served under the doctor who had healed Alpha Garrick’s Omega. Said he’d never seen anything like it before in his life. She was so strong, and yet…”

Lilia’s words hung heavy in the air, and all of the women looked at each other and then at you, suddenly feeling the weight of your sacrifice, ashamed at their earlier levity. Tyran shook her head and patted you on the arm,

“Don’t worry. Alpha Price will not claim you. You have nothing to worry about.”

That night, painted gold and covered in your black silks, you sat in your tent and meditated while you waited for the other clans to arrive. Your mind kept wandering to Alpha Price and his lonely existence. Had he really injured an Omega during his claiming of her? How large must his knot have been to do so? It made you shudder to think about it, and yet deep inside of you, your core warmed from the thought. If he imprinted on you…

But, imprinting was just a myth. Something only written in old texts as a footnote or a story. It was a part of the ritual of The Exchange, but it wasn’t real.

“Omega,” Watcher Trinity interrupted your meditation and peeked her head into your tent, “It is time to present The Cloth.”

Clan 141 was here, then.

The ritual of The Exchange began with The Shroud, which you were already wearing. Then, it was The Cloth. If all went well, it would then be The Meeting. And finally, The Ceremony.

The Cloth was a gift from the Omega to her new Alpha, a token of her affection and a chance for him to smell her scent for the first time. In ancient legends, this is when her true mate would imprint upon her, her Omegan scent bringing out his Alphic marks, dark spots or stripes across his neck and back, making him look like a big cat, ready to bite into her neck and claim her as his own.

She tried to shake herself out of that fantasy world. All she could hope was that one of their Alphas would be drawn to her scent enough to accept her. Her people were depending on her.

“Here is your cloth, Omega. I embroidered it myself. I hope that it honors you,” Watcher Trinity handed you a wooden box, carved and adorned with great care, and when you opened it, you found a red silk square of fabric, sewn with the sigils and symbols of your clan in fine gold thread. You smiled up at your Watcher and reached out to hold her in your arms,

“It’s perfect, Watcher. Thank you for caring for me.”

You were both fighting off tears when she finally pulled away. You hoped that your Alpha would at least let you say goodbye after the ceremony, even if you might never see her again.

Watcher Trinity and all of the other women left you alone again in your tent, giving you privacy to prepare The Cloth. You made yourself naked, and you began to rub the silk across your neck and glands, trying to soak your scent into the piece. Then, you wiped it between your legs, swiping up some of your wetness to coat the fabric. Usually, this would be enough. You could call your Watcher back into the tent and give her the box, and you would be done.

But, something in your heart told you to try to call out your slick. You listened to your instincts, and you began to rub the soft fabric against your folds, bringing your own pleasure to a warm, shining height. Just when you thought you might not be able to do it, that your nervousness would make it too difficult or that you might black out again from the effort, you felt something inside of you slip free. Then, your hole was flooded, the orgasm making your vision go blurry and form spots at the edges, your whole body convulsing from the strength of your pleasure, and you had to lay down just to try and stay awake through your gushing bliss.

You felt it coat the silk and your hand, a thick, milky slick, and your heart swelled with pride. You knew that a gift this special would sway the attention of at least one of their Alphas. You trusted in your skills and training that you were worthy of this ceremony and that your people would be saved.

Sitting up, you carefully opened the box and returned The Cloth to its resting place, soaked with your scent. You took time to clean yourself up, stuffing wet blankets into your laundry packs and hiding them away, remaking your nest before your Watcher would know what you had done. You weren’t sure why you were keeping a secret from them, but you just felt like this was something between you and your Alpha. A promise, of sorts.

You replaced your black silks and veil over your otherwise unclothed body and called your Watchers. They entered your tent along with Alpha Roan.

His eyes widened as he approached you, taking the box from your hands. Quietly, as if knowing that this was an extremely private affair, he whispered to you,

“What have you done, little Omega?”

“I am doing what needs to be done, Alpha. Please, deliver my message to my new Master.”

You use of the ancient terminology caught your clan Alpha off guard, but you were glad of it. If this was to be done in the old way, then you would withstand it, but you would also do it your way. You were the Omega, here, and you were the reason your clan would survive this struggle. It was time you started acting like the heroine that you were. You would be your people’s strength, no matter the cost.

“Very well,” Alpha Roan sighed, closing the box, calling out to your team, “Watchers, bring your Omega to The Cloth ritual.”

You were guided to the path again, leaving your tent behind and walking towards the big, outdoor theater. It was a crude coliseum of sorts, a large circular pit lined with rows and rows of carved seating that was cut into the land. People had already begun to line the viewing platforms, each clan decorated in their traditional garb. You felt proud to see the stripe of red where your people sat, holding each others’ hands and praying for your safe arrival.

You were not greeted with raucous applause but instead with reverent silence. Alpha Roan walked in front of your Watchers, and you were the last one into the theater, dressed only in your sheer shroud, trying your best not to feel self-conscious about the fact that - because of the firelight - everyone could see your naked, painted body through the veil, even though you were covered head to toe in the organza. In the tent, the lighting was low and kept you in darkness, hiding your body under the thin silk. But, not here in the theater. Your skin was illuminated by the torches, and you knew that even your friends and neighbors could now see your most private parts.

You made sure that your face did not give away your lingering shame.

Alpha Roan took center stage, and you saw the Alphas of Clan 141 for the first time.

Alpha MacTavish was standing between his two Omegas, and you mused that his oldest children must have stayed behind to care for his cubs. He was dressed in his Clan’s black gear, covered in armor like a gladiator, his head shaven into a mohawk, spiked and messy on the crown of his head. His body was huge and stocky, and the Omegas seated at his sides looked so tiny compared to his bulk. But, they were strong. Their bellies were round with the promise of future cubs, and their skin and hair glowed like the stars.

Alpha Garrick stood next to him, his Omegas seated together to his right, dressed in the finest robes you had ever seen. He clearly had a type, and you thought that they looked like triplets, all decorated in jewels and gold, riches you’d never even dreamt of. Their Alpha was every bit as handsome as the stories had promised. He had pouty, full lips that were curled in a snarky sort of smile, and his soft brown eyes exuded pure confidence. His hands were wide and powerful, resting on his curved blade that lay sheathed at his hip.

Alpha Riley was masked, as you had been told, as were his Omegas. They were not seated, and every bit of armor that was strapped to his hulking body was also strapped to them. They had glittering knives, bows, arrows, and slings, looking like they could win their own war by themselves. Their bodies were heavily muscled, and all four of them seemed as tall as Alpha MacTavish, standing proudly in leather boots.

Then, you saw Alpha Price. He was holding a large wooden stick, at least seven feet tall, with hundreds of notches sliced into the side. You wondered what he was keeping track of, and you shuddered to know. His beard was neatly trimmed, and his hair was cut high and tight on the sides. He was certainly bigger and better muscled than each of his men, but that was not what you noticed about him first. It was his eyes. They were piercingly blue, like glacial ice, and they were looking right at you. Hungry.

Something inside of your core tightened under his scrutiny, but Alpha Roan’s voice shook you from your trance,

“Clan Arlos welcomes Clan 141 to The Exchange. We present you with our offering, an unmated Omega, 26 years of age, fully trained in the old ways of our people. She is our greatest gift, and we ask for your acceptance of our sacrifice.”

Alpha Roan held up the box with The Cloth inside for all to see. He set it on the large, marble altar in the middle of the stage and backed away from it, waiting for the other Alphas to take part in the ritual.

Alpha Price spoke, and your body nearly trembled at the sound of his deep, purring voice. You were more nervous than you thought, and you tried to breathe to manage yourself.

“We will consider your honorable offering, Clan Arlos.”

With that, he slammed his huge stick against the stony ground and Alpha MacTavish stepped up to the altar. He opened the box, and along with the other Alphas in attendance, his body had a visceral reaction. His hands went to touch the cloth and he brought it to his nose, smelling your scent with a sort of wonder and amazement.

Then, to your great relief, he raised his hand, palm outward, as a show of his acceptance of your scent. If you accepted him as well, you would be mated.

But, the slamming sound of the stick shook you out of your celebrations. Alpha Price called up Alpha Garrick.

This was most unusual. Typically, only one Alpha had to agree. It wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter. Even if Alpha MacTavish’s scent did not stir your heart, you would still submit to him as expected. This was not a marriage of love but of convenience.

MacTavish looked back over his shoulder at Price, just as shocked as you were. His Omegas looked even more taken aback, strangely offended that you would not automatically join them. But, Alpha MacTavish returned the cloth to the box and made room for Garrick, disappointed and visibly confused.

Alpha Garrick opened the box and buried his face against The Cloth, breathing in once, twice, and then tasting the fabric, right in front of everyone. It was his right, but it was a little audacious.

His palm went up, high in the air, and his Omegas smiled and held each other’s hands, excited at your acceptance.

Another loud slam. Another rejection.

You may still end up with MacTavish or Garrick after negotiations, you remembered, but you were now wondering why Alpha Price had chosen to test you against all three of his men before making a decision. It was very odd. Alpha Roan looked greatly concerned.

Alpha Riley approached the altar, his gloved hands prying open the box, then, he lifted the bottom of his mask to reveal his mouth and nose. The slightest murmur of shock rippled through the crowd. He bent to smell your scent, and he raised his hand in the air, signaling his acceptance before replacing his mask. You thought you caught the hint of a smile just before his pale lips disappeared beneath the skull plate again.

Slam! The stick pounded against the floor.

All of Clan 141 turned to look at Alpha Price at once. Your heart stopped. Why would he… Why would Alpha Price want to undergo The Cloth ritual himself? He had no Omega. Surely, he wouldn’t claim you now, not after what had happened. You watched Alpha Garrick’s Omegas. One of them stared at Alpha Price with wide, glossy eyes. You thought that it must be his prior candidate for a mate. She was afraid for you. They were all afraid.

All eyes were on Alpha Price as he approached the altar, and the entire theater was silent as he took The Cloth in his hands. He lay it out flat, in no rush, inspecting the wet stain that you had left for him, using his thumb to feel the fine, gold embroidery. Then, his eyes darted up to yours. He was the first one to look at you while he held The Cloth to his nose, that icy gaze making you tremble with anticipation.

You were so lost in his eyes that you didn’t see what was stirring the crowd. There was a loud gasp and then an explosion of whispers. You looked around, trying to understand what was happening. Then, when he tucked The Cloth into his breast pocket, keeping you for himself, you saw it.

Long, red lines began to stain his skin like lightning. All of his veins tattooed themselves across his neck, and although his armor was covering his shoulders, you knew that the marks would be there as well.

Alpha Price had imprinted for you.

Then, he silenced the crowd by raising his right hand, palm up, staring at you the entire time.

You were whisked away, surrounded by your Watchers, hearing Alpha Roan’s voice behind you, sounding like protest, but you couldn’t make out the words. Compared to the initial silence, the area erupted in a shattering din, clans shouting and yelling over each other, the drama from the ritual dividing the people.

You thought you would be taken back to your tent, but you were brought to a large lake about five hundred yards from the theater. It was quiet again. No one was allowed to follow you here, it seemed.

Watcher Trinity tried to explain in a rushed whisper, helping you climb into a boat and rowing you out to the middle of the lake,

“There is a dispute for your claiming. Alpha Roan will negotiate new terms, and Clan 141 must decide who will be your Alpha. It will be alright, Omega. It’ll be alright.”

She sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than you.

“What now?”

“Because there is not just one Alpha who has claimed you, they will undergo a ritual called The Trial. It is a fight; a test of will. Whichever Alpha can win will be granted the right to appeal to you first. If you reject him, then you will be given a chance to hear the appeal from the second.”

“So, it will be up to me, then?”

“Yes. Alpha Price has put the choice in your hands. Very odd, and not in our custom, but we must honor his wishes. You will wait here for the winner.”

You looked around. You were now in the middle of the lake, and there was a platform lingering just below the water. It was a wide stone block, about three meters wide in each direction. Watcher Trinity helped you out of the boat and you stepped tentatively onto the platform.

“Will you wait with me?” You asked, feeling the uncertainty and fear finally get the better of you.

“No, my Omega. I cannot. These waters are forbidden to Betas. Only Alphas and Omegas can touch it. Take this. It is your flare. If you are in trouble, if he tries to get to you, fire it high into the sky and we will rescue you. You can do this. I know you are strong. Wait patiently for your Alpha,” she paused, grabbing your hand, “I realize you are doing this for us, but please, follow your heart.”

“I will, Watcher.”

So, you waited. You meditated, standing in an inch of cool lake water as you tried to commune with the land around you. And you waited some more. Hours passed until, finally, you saw torches. Your Watchers lined one side of the lake, and they greeted the newcomers. Then, you saw him. Alpha Price was being stripped down by your Watchers. They took his weapons from him, and then his clothes, making him naked on the shoreline. He craned his neck, trying to look for you in the lake, but it was dark and you were dressed in black.

You could see him just fine, though. His huge body was covered in short, curly hair, dense and dark against his skin. His muscles bulged and popped as he peeled away his layers of clothing. They left his undergarments on, little more than a linen loincloth. Then, you saw your Watchers attach a huge, metal collar around his neck. They clamped it together with a padlock in the back, and a huge chain was attached at the latch.

They bound his hands, chaining them together, and then loaded him into the boat. They rowed toward you with his back facing the platform, and as he got closer, you saw his imprint markings, red and raised like jagged scars across his neck and shoulders. Your scent had marked him permanently. The welts would go down, and the red would fade, but it would always be there, evidence of his imprinting.

The boat reached you, and he climbed out of it, sitting on the opposite side of the platform from you, just far enough to be out of range for your scent.

His eyes found yours again, staring at you through your veil, finding your gaze with a natural ease. He held a small box in his hands, and you thought you saw the phantom of a smile across his lips as you looked over his face.

The boat rowed to shore, dragging the long chain all the way back, and you were alone with him. It was quiet for a long while. You were just staring at each other, studying each other, trapped in a silent battle.

You looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time his cut, bloody knuckles, and he saw the worry cross over your eyes.

“They’re fine,” he said quietly, “My men. If that’s what you were wondering.”

“But, you triumphed over them, clearly,” you replied, not trusting your own voice.

He chuckled a bit, sighing,

“I did.”

“You fought for me, then.”

The laughing stopped, and he lifted his chin, proudly,

“I did.”

“And you are here for my acceptance.”

He didn’t respond to your cue, but instead, he took the box in his hands and slid it across the platform, skittering it along the surface of the water, making little splashes as it landed in front of you.

You reached for it, opening it up to reveal a shining key.

“Throw it in the lake,” he commanded you, using his Alpha’s voice to bend your will.

It shocked you, and you were so close to obeying, but you stopped, cutting your eyes at him,

“What is this?”

“Throw. It. Omega.”

His voice seared through your blood, calling to you with old magic. You fought hard to keep your mind under your own control,

“Stop! Stop it. Tell me what this is, Alpha.”

“It unlocks my collar. Otherwise, if I make so much as a shift in your direction that they don’t like,” his head turned to look back toward your watchers, “They will pull me into the lake, and I will drown.”

“And if I unlock it…”

“Then, you will be my mate,” his tone turned vitriolic then, “And you will die.”

You let his words sink in, your curiosity overcoming your fear,

“You believe your knot cannot be taken.”

He spat back,

“My belief is not –”

“But, it’s not up to you,” you interrupted him, “Is it?”

The shock that washed over his bright eyes filled you with a sort of sick satisfaction. You should be afraid of him, but your roles were reversed out here on this rock, and you were holding him under your command.

“Toss that key, girl. MacTavish fought hard for you. He’ll care for you. He’s a good man.”

“Are you a good man?”

“No,” he growled, his eyes dropping to the water, examining the chains around his own hands, inspecting them for the bloodstains that he obviously thought should be there.

“I am here for my people, Alpha Price. I am not looking for a husband. I am a resource to be traded for other resources. My clan needs The Exchange. Our people are starving, and I –”

“I would not let them starve,” Price’s eyes shot back up, indignant that you would suggest that he would leave you and your clan without food or water.

You let yourself smile slightly, teasing him,

“Spoken like a good man.”

He twisted his lips over his teeth, but he stayed quiet. You continued to torment him,

“Why did you raise your hand for me?”

He sighed, sitting forward, sloping his shoulders toward you,

“I couldn’t help it. My Alpha…He…” He paused, searching for the words, “I could smell you through the box. I knew you from the moment I saw you walk through the arena. And when my men all raised their hands for you, I knew you would be accepted as our Clan Omega. You are mine in every way that matters. And I cannot have you.”

His voice was full of bitterness. You wanted to smell him. What were the chances that he was your true mate? One-sided imprinting was rare, but true mates were one in a million.

You stood, surprising him, and he jolted back, sitting up right. The chain around his wrists clattering. You looked over at the shoreline. Your Watchers held the long chain around his neck, heavy and sagging into the black water, ready to yank it tight if he lunged for you, if he fell prey to his Alphic instinct to breed you.

He watched you approach, seeing how the water rippled with every step you took, gazing upon the dripping silks that clung to your legs, devouring you with his eyes. You stopped in front of his crossed legs, Knowing that he could smell you now. Your pussy was shielded only with a few layers of silk, and you watched him flare his nose, sniffing you right in front of his face, blowing a slow exhale of air through his lips, making the organza billow between your legs.

“Can I smell your scent, Alpha?” You whispered, your voice slicing through the silence of the still lake.

His chains clattered as he twisted his head to look up at you, peeling his eyes away from your pretty pussy to meet your gaze. Then, he bent his head to one side, giving you his neck, showing you his scent gland, a sea of red stripes emanating from its center.

You bent over him, closing the gap, steadying yourself by laying a gentle hand on his huge shoulder. Then, you took a long pause and breathed him in. His scent swirled through your body, wrecking your other senses. It was only him. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Your Alpha. Your mate. Your true mate.

You felt the red marks of your imprint streak across your skin, and his eyes widened in shock as he saw them branch through your veins and across your gland just as his had done.

The click of a lock made his eyes flash back to you, and with that movement, his heavy collar tumbled into the lake, the drag of the chain singing as it scraped the side of the platform.

“What have you done, my Omega?” Price breathed.

It was the second time you’d been asked that question. Your response was still the same:

“I am doing what needs to be done, Master. I am giving myself to you, my true mate.”

The boats were in the water the moment the collar slipped from his neck. The Watchers were on you in moments, and Price’s Beta soldiers were there to collect him. You watched as they rowed you two apart, taking you back to your camps to prepare for the ceremony.

Your Watchers were in a rush. There were only a few hours until sunrise. Your wet robes were switched out for red ones, and a red veil adorned your head. Underneath, you were rubbed and painted and sprayed with oils, until finally, Watcher Trinity came forward with a bowl of salve. She had made it herself, you could tell. She cared for you so deeply.

“I trust you, Omega. I know you know what you’re doing. But, please take this. It will help your muscles relax for him, and it will make it easier to bring on your natural defenses.”

She was being coy, avoiding using the word to refer to your slick, knowing that you had your own method of calling it forth using your special power. But, you took it from her anyway, and after you were left alone again to meditate, you used two fingers to massage it into your hole, feeling its effects begin to warm you, making your flesh supple and pliant.

A hand curled around your tent flap, pulling it open. Instead of your Watcher, you saw one of Garrick’s Omegas. It was her, the one who had failed to take your Alpha’s knot.

She stepped inside,

“May I speak with you?”

You nodded, motioning for her to sit,

“Yes, but I’m afraid I already know what you are about to say.”

Her eyes widened,

“If you know, then why have you accepted this? Alpha MacTavish was his second. He is not to your liking? His Omegas are kind and –”

“No, they were all to my liking. I am eager to join your pack in whichever way I can, but Alpha Price is my true mate.”

You showed her your skin from under the red silks, knowing she could not see them through the red of the veil. She gaped at them,

“Your… true mate? He could… This could kill you, Omega. I don’t want to see you come to harm, and it would destroy him. I saw how he was after my accident. I nearly blamed myself for his deep sorrow.”

“I trust my training, Omega, and I am so grateful for your support, but he is my mate. What is meant to happen to me, will.” You stood with her, seeing your Watchers hovering just outside the tent, signaling them that you were ready to leave.

“Then, I trust you as well. The others are so excited to meet you. I wish you an easy path, and I hope your ceremony is just as you want it to be. After this, you will be our Clan Omega, and I will serve you until the end of my days.”

She kissed your cheek through your veil and left you to be delivered back to the altar.

For a long time, you had wondered if this final walk away from your pack would be a sad one. You expected every step to be filled with hesitation and fear. But, the only thing you felt was joy. Your mate awaited you at the end of this long path, and you were ready to submit to him. He was worthy of your strength, and he would help you deliver your people from danger. You would rule beside him, helping him use the 141 for good, eradicating the evil from your land.

The sun’s pink wash was rising out of the horizon line just as you reached the theater. The crowd was silent again, and you saw the pallor and shock painted on all of their faces. They were expecting a funeral instead of a feast. They had no idea why anyone would be so desperate as to sacrifice their only Omega to this Alpha, especially when it was not necessary. But, they didn’t realize that you were no prisoner. You were no one’s puppet. You were in charge, here, and your Alpha would breed you as you commanded him to.

Your Watchers led you to the altar, kissing your hands through the thin cloth as they passed you to take their seats near Clan Arlos, tears in their eyes and staining their cheeks, and finally, your clan Alpha approached you.

“Alpha Roan,” you greeted him.

“Little Omega,” he smiled, kissing your hands just as your Watchers had done. He didn’t need to, but it was his way of showing everyone that he trusted your choice, “I hope you know what you are doing.”

“I do,” you said, smiling at him through your red silk veil.

Then, Alpha Price’s men came through the center of the theater, each of them bending to kiss your hands. But, instead of the back of your knuckles, they turned them over to kiss your palms, a sign that they would accept what you had to give them. Alpha Riley was first, and he lifted his mask to show you his mouth and chin, his kiss warm and tender against your skin. Then, Alpha Garrick knelt down, placing multiple kisses along your fingers and wrists, displaying his loyalty and respect. Finally, Alpha MacTavish knelt before you, daring to whisper to you as he kissed your palms,

“Brave lass.”

You used your thumb to pet his lip, acknowledging his trust in you.

Then, it was time for the Omegas to join you. They approached as a unit, not individually as their Alphas had done, and they helped you lay on the altar, guiding your body back onto the marble platform. They pulled at your silks, allowing the crowd to see your naked body, painted in fine brushes of intricate gold designs, of prayers and songs of your people, their symbols adorning you from neck to toe. Finally, they began to kiss you, licking and sucking at your mouth like lovers, showing their devotion to you as their clan Omega.

As they kissed you, your skin began to flush hot, your body somehow knowing what was about to happen to you. The Omegas felt your fire against their lips, and they pulled your legs apart, each of them bending to lick and suck at your flower’s drooling petals, slurping and sucking up your creamy nectar. They were at your breasts, your neck, your belly, your hands and feet. You were overwhelmed with pleasure, shaking and trembling under their affection, yet moved by their deep loyalty. You knew you would be safe with them. They would care for you just as your clan had done.

Then, you heard the familiar slam of a longstaff. Your Alpha had arrived.

According to the ceremony, you were meant to be still and silent as a showing of your acceptance. If you moved or cried out in any way, you risked a clan war, as taking a mate without their consent was a dark offense. You had to prove to your people that you were here of your own free will, and even though you were feeling the static cling of apprehension beginning to worm its way into your chest, you tried to breathe through it, trusting your Alpha to lead you through this moment with his protective power.

Your legs were lowered to the stirrup-style rests that were carved just below the stone table, keeping your knees wide apart, allowing your pussy to drip openly, glistening with the beginnings of your slick. You calmed yourself as they left you alone, each of them kissing you softly once more to show their reverence.

Then, you heard the clatter of fallen armor. He was undressing, removing his warlord’s mantle and coming to you fully bare. You spotted him between the vee of your legs as he approached the dais, his imprint marks flushed a deep wine red, his body shining with the traditional oils, meant to give him another layer of aphrodisiacs, promoting his production of his seed, keeping his cock tall and hard.

But, you knew that your imprint on his gland would do more than all of their drugs combined. He would kill every last person in this arena to get to you at this point, and although you had consented to this joining, you were no longer controlling it. He would take you, no matter what.

Then, when he got close enough to your platform, you saw it. It was standing proudly against his thick, furry belly, dripping with precome and lubricants, glittering in the rising sun. His cock was immense. You had not practiced on one so large. And his knot was larger than your two fists pressed together. He was intact, and his foreskin was slipping down his flushed head, unable to contain the swelling glans. Your body threatened to quiver from your suspense, and you tried to move your mind into your meditative trance.

As he approached, he did not go straight for his position between your legs. Instead, he walked around the front of the marble platform and bent to look you in your eyes, leaning his head down for a deep, heady kiss. He fed you his tongue and suckled on yours, letting it writhe inside of his mouth, rubbing against his own probing muscle.

He pulled away to gaze upon you, his eyes soft and full of joy. You smiled up at him, watching as he enjoyed the rest of your body, caressing your breasts, admiring your paintings.

“Did my clan show you their loyalty, my Omega?”

“Yes, Master,” you answered quietly.

“Are you prepared for me to show you mine?”

“Yes, Master. I am,” you replied, giving him a brave face despite the absolute weapon that was slobbering for you against his belly. You wanted to taste it, but now was not the time.

He returned to the base of your platform, kneeling in front of your wet hole, bending to place his mouth against you. He began to suck, pulling your soft lips into his mouth like he was starving, lapping up the beginnings of your body’s fluids, moaning from the taste and the smell of your scent. You wanted to moan, you wanted to pin his head to your trembling quim, but you didn’t dare move a muscle or make a single sound. Breathing in, breathing out, letting the sparks of an orgasm rush through you, bringing tears to your eyes from holding back so much pleasure.

Your Watcher’s salve was almost too effective. It had made you pliant, but now you were beyond sensitive, able to feel the pound of your own heartbeat through your hole, desperate for something to press inside of you. You needed his cock.

But, he did not give it to you. He just sucked and sucked and sucked, and his fingers began to rub along the entrance of your slippery hole, pressing down on your pussy’s walls, testing their strength. You fluttered for him, just like your Watchers had taught you, and you felt him stumble in his movements, shocked by your power.

He stood between your legs, his face and beard soaking from his meal, letting you drip off of his chin like a messy hound drinking from a river. Then, to test your resolve, he teased you with a little bit of meanness, stepping forward to let his cock lay along your body, measuring himself on the outside of you. He reached far beyond your navel, his lubed phallus warm and heavy, his knot resting in the softness of your folds, and you could feel him throbbing for you.

You didn’t dare move, but you wanted to cradle his cock in your hands, to rub up and down his length, to feel the smoothness of his head and the firmness of his knot. But, you stayed stock still, showing the crowd that you would not waver. There was some soft chittering from the clans, the shock at his size obviously enough to break onlookers out of their respectful quiet.

Then, he began notching his head at the entrance of your pussy, letting the tip slide up and down your tight ring of muscles that guarded your entrance.

“Last chance, Omega. Call it off. Cry out, and my own men will cut me down,” he bade you under his breath, having a hard time holding his words and sentences together, his voice shaking in his throat.

You looked up at him with closed lips, making a point to give him a soft smile as a response.

No deal.

You pulsed your muscles again, making your pussy lap up his sloppy precome like a little mouth, watching as he was torn apart by your action, no matter how minor.

So, without any other choice, he fed himself into you. It was a fearsome experience, at first. You weren’t sure if you could actually handle him. But, you breathed through the stress, relaxing your body, finding that deep, secret place inside of you, making your slick drop down for him, flooding your hole to welcome him in.

The confusion that painted his face was so satisfying. He couldn’t understand the sheer warmth and comfort he was experiencing. His cock was being sucked into you, deeper and deeper, and finally, you felt his knot.

He pulled all the way out of you, and sheathed himself all the way back in, always reaching to that one spot, just above his bulbous anchor, and then starting his process over again. Each time his cock fucked its way through your body, humping himself into you, creamy, milking noises filled the quiet, open-air arena. The whole ensemble could hear him invading your hole, the lurid slap of skin on skin loud and unashamed.

His phallus was large enough to rub against your most sensitive spot over and over, bullying it into producing more and more slick, making you come just by dragging his heavy cockhead over it, in and out, in and out, pounding into you with almost reckless need.

You came for him, and your body began to shiver from the overwhelming bliss, but you held your voice. You tried to still yourself, not wanting to show weakness, but there was nothing you could do. You were shattered by his cock, coming over and over again. It was an endless wave. You had no idea where one started and the other stopped.

You could taste blood in your mouth from biting the inside of your cheek. Still, you pushed through it, testing yourself with every push and pull of your body.

His huge hands pawed at your hips and breasts, squeezing you, watching your plump flesh jiggle with every cruel strike of his hips. Your Alpha took your own slick and began to rub it all over your skin, swirling it around your nipples, letting it smear across your belly from his palm. Then, he painted himself, taking it from your well-fucked hole and rubbing it across his scent gland, down his chest, matting his hair with your wetness.

Then, you felt his precome begin to pump out of him. You knew it had begun because this was when your slick was meant to wash through you, but there was no space for anything else. So, it began to pour out of you and over his knot. Every time he pushed it against your body, it threatened to slip into your hole, and you were filled with a twisted excitement, ready for it to be stuck inside of you, to churn and grind against your insides, to trap you in a blinding, rageful bliss. You nearly cried out from the heavy want you felt in your chest.

“You ready for my knot, pretty Omega?” He growled, no longer speaking to you softly. There was no gentleness left within him.

He shoved you back across the dais, climbing up onto it with you, breaking every protocol by doing so, but knowing there wasn’t a single other Alpha in attendance who would do anything about it unless you asked them to. But, he trusted you, lifting himself above you, bringing his face to your face, kissing you and beginning to lick your scent gland, making you see stars.

Would he really bite you right here in front of all these people while you were about to take his knot? It was beyond intimate. Not only was it private, but it was dangerous. It was when an Alpha was most vulnerable. The audacity of this man shook you to your core.

“Bite me, Omega. Please take me. Claim me as yours, sweetheart. Show them that you are mine. My Omega.”

His voice was ragged and deep, a hoarse purr of commands, all of which you were happy to obey. You began to lick his neck, putting your mouth over his gland as you began to suck at the round swell of flesh. Then, just as you canted your hips, feeling his knot slip inside of you, shoving and burying itself within the tight sheath of your pussy, you used your muscles to yank him the rest of the way in, and you bit down on his neck, hard, your body seizing from a hard, ruthless orgasm. .

You heard the crack of his gland, and you felt him sink his fangs into yours, the pain and the pleasure mixing within you like a drug, his cock firing rope after rope of searing hot come into your belly, flooding your womb with his spend. He pulled his mouth away and stared into your eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his face full of disbelief,

“My love…”

You kissed him, taking his lip into yours, suckling on it, trying to guide him back down from his tantric high. He was struggling above you, stuck deep inside of you, unable to stop himself from dumping heavy loads of his come into your body, his cock pulsing and throbbing with each burst of his cream.

He rested his head on your neck, returning his mouth to your gland, and every time he licked it, now, you felt your pussy twist around him, threatening to slam you with another orgasm. You licked him, too, hearing him cry out against your skin, feeling the mirror of your sensations, his heavy phallus jerking as you sucked on his broken gland.

Finally, he was able to rock back and forth, letting his knot slip out of you before popping it back inside, fucking you with it just like he did with his cock. He twisted his hips forward, driving into you with all of his strength, and then he would pull himself back out, the swell of his knot increasing with each thrust until, on the last thrust, he was finally trapped, unable to remove himself from your core.

Now, though, it was your turn. You began to use your muscles to push and pull him from the inside, fucking him like a sleeve of smooth, soaked warmth, jerking his shaft up and down with your insides.

“Oh, fuck…” He whispered, not expecting your skills to be so advanced, but you had trained hard for this moment. You weren’t about to let it go to waste.

You moved him inside of you, letting his knot take the brunt of your efforts, squeezing it like a fruit, making sure all of his juice melted into your skin. You made him come like this again, using the salve that your Watcher had given to you as an advantage, knowing that the heightened sensitivity you felt was now being passed on to him. He filled you up, his knot plugging your hole, preventing any of his seed from leaking out, and your tummy was swollen from his load, round and full for everyone to see.

He sat up on his heels, looking down at you with his eyes full of adoration and wonder, watching your strong abdominals clench and twist as you used them to help you work inside of yourself, edging him over and over before pulling him down into the depths of another hard come with you.

His hands went to the bulge of fluid in your belly, most of it flooding into your womb, unable to escape anywhere else. Your Alpha caressed your skin, marveling at the fullness. Then, he looked down at your stretched hole, playing with your clitorus that had been forced out from under its hood due to the sheer size of his knot, all of your skin bowing around it and pulled tight.

Your Alpha forced you to come like this, milking him hard, trying not to make a sound but giving away your mind-bending pleasure with shaking, whimpering breaths.

“That’s a good Omega. So full of my come.”

You smiled up at him, enjoying the full feeling of his come inside of you. But, you were losing your strength, and he could feel it. Alpha Price leaned over you again, grinding himself down into you and helping you reach one last orgasm, pulling himself along with you, squirting the last of his spend into your pussy. Then, he carefully twisted his cock out of you, watching the gush of his come coat the marble platform, dripping out of you and down the sides of the dais.

You were so empty and weak, but you were being lifted, cradled in his arms, and the whole arena burst into revelrous applause. The feast had begun, but not for you. You would be in your Alpha’s tent, and there you would remain until he bred you, making sure that you were laden with his cub, sharing food and drink with him in bed while you were stuck on his knot, traditionally until sunset when you would be presented to the clans as the new Apex Omega, destined to rule beside him forever.

“Are you done being quiet, my Omega?”

“Yes, Master,” you whispered, nestling into his broad chest.

“Good,” he smiled, “I need to hear you scream for me.”

“And I need my Alpha to breed me. I need your knot again, Master. Don’t pull it out.”

“I’m at your command, my love,” he smiled, planting a kiss on your temple, smearing his own salve across your swollen flesh, working his cock until he was hard again.

When you felt his knot for the second time, you knew you had made the right choice. Your people were safe, and so were you. You weren’t sure if it was the high of your claiming or the truth that you felt in your heart, but you were eager to be dripping with his come every night. Trapped underneath your Alpha was right where you belonged, knotted and full of his love.

Seriously, send help. I was too ashamed to even reread it for typos. I'm so sorry.

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #captain john price #cod #john price #call of duty #captain price #captain price x you #john price x female reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #captain price x reader #alpha john price x omega reader #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #ritual #public exhibition

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frenchkisstheabyss · 21 days

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♡ ＳｗｅｅｔｅｓｔＰｉｅ ♡

♡ Pairing: sex worker!mingyu x chubby!fem!sex worker!reader

♡ Genre: smut/fluff

♡ Word Count: 3.2k-ish

♡ Summary: While spending the weekend at a mansion in the Hollywood Hills, a risky late night comment of yours draws the attention of your crush who happens to be in the same city and wants to see if you're all talk or about that action.

♡ Warnings: you're both spicy content creators, drinking, unprotected sex, Gyu's dick is kinda really huge, size kink for sure, stretching, riding, rough sex, doggystyle, clit play, ass slapping, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating/swallowing, dirty talk, switch Gyu/reader

♡ A/N: I usually put a sweet artistic statement in this space but I don't have a sweet artistic statement. I have a hot girl playlist and Mingyu's existence which is exactly how we ended up here. It's Mingyu, for the love of goddess, can you blame me?

This was never where you thought you’d end up. When you joked with your best friend, a successful OnlyFans girl, about starting one if your job kept working your nerves you hadn’t imagined actually doing it. Yet here you are, 8 months after that tipsy girl’s night, with a hefty following on social media and enough subscribers to never have to set foot in that job ever again.

Like any other job it has its ups and downs but having your best friend there to help you navigate it early on makes it feel like lightwork now. Plus it’s so easy to ignore your haters when your bank account’s as stacked as it is.

For the first time in your life it’s optional to check pricetags, you can literally have whatever you want. Some things you don’t even have to pay for, they’re just dropped in your lap simply because you are who you are.

That’s precisely how you scored yourself a weekend at this million dollar home in the Hollywood Hills. You’d passively mentioned during a custom video for one of your fans how hot you found it that he owned so much property.

“I’ve never played with my pussy in a mansion before” you pouted cutely, a vibrator whirling away inside you on its lowest setting. It wasn’t hint dropping as much as you wanted to stroke his ego but he took it as a chance to impress you, offering you a getaway at one of his places while he went on vacation for business.

You’d be doing him a favor, he insisted, because he hated to leave the place empty for so long. The ego boost was more than enough compensation on his part that he didn’t feel like you owed him anything. Good because as a rule you do not fuck customers. You don’t even do content with other people in your industry. Everything’s solo. Always.

“Show us the top but off” you giggle, reading through the comments on your Instagram live. You do a quick spin, showing off your barely there bikini top. “There it is but it’s not coming off. You guys are gonna get me banned.”

You only arrived a few hours ago and, exhausted from travel, decided that you’d rather spend the night in the jacuzzi out back than venture out to some crowded bar. This weekend is about relaxation after all and what’s more relaxing than sipping champagne in this warm bubbling water under the starry night sky?

It began to feel a little lonely though, you’re so used to having your best friend with you on these trips, so you decided to prop your phone up on the edge of the hottub and go live for a little bit.

Reading through the comments, you get caught up in conversation about a million random topics. There’s suggestions for the best restaurants in LA, debates over if aliens are real or not, and even a quick KPop Smash or Pass game before someone brings you to a topic that has your heart thumping harder than an EDM festival.

Your rule on sleeping with other creators is a hard “No”, this everyone already knows, but when it comes to one man in particular that rule’s nonexistent.

100_karat_xo Gyu saw your retweet 👀 youngxkwonskitty He’s coming over here aaaaaah!!!

You nearly choke on your next sip of champagne, watching the chat go wild as the memory of a recent drunken retweet hits you like a wrecking ball.

Your introduction to who Kim Mingyu was had been innocent enough. You were scrolling your feed one night and saw a video of a bunch of guys dancing. They were just fucking around really but they were genuinely talented and hot as hell so you had to do a little independent research to figure out who they were.

Mingyu was the one who caught your eye the most with his beautifully tanned skin and a face so gorgeous it hurts to look at. It only worsened the situation when you stumbled upon his spicy account and found out he had the deadly combo of a body Greek gods would envy and a cock that’d have you walking funny for days. Who needs to walk straight anyway? You followed him on everything immediately, nearly died when he followed you back, and it’s been non stop flirting since.

The two of you even ran into each other at a few parties where things would almost get hot and heavy but never ventured beyond a cute little makeout session. It’s painfully obvious both of you want something more though.

The most recent evidence came when Mingyu posted a video of himself seated in a chair facing a mirror wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants. No shirt, nothing under the pants, just that muscular sunkissed chest and a mouthwatering dick print.��

You were weak in the knees from the sight of that alone but when his hand started moving in his lap, his palm smoothing over the long, thick print, you went feral. Mingyu’s caption asked, “Who does this belong to?” and the shots of Soju in your system that night had you responding, “Me!” before you could think better of it. That was a week ago and you must’ve pushed it to the back of your mind because you haven’t thought about it since. But Mingyu has.

“Coming over here? What do you mean?” you ask, slinking down into the water as if it’ll somehow make you invisible. You get your answer immediately when a familiar name appears in the chat.

dongangu.daddy Hey beautiful

“Mingyu! Stop! What are you doing here?” you squeal, a hand thrown over your mouth to hide the uncontrollable smile his arrival brings to your face. As if there’s a way to conceal how giddy you are over this man. Two words from him and your whole aura changes. You were glowing before but now you’re radioactive.

jeonghanssimp95 my worlds collide omfg _horanghaeheaux_ Can you both marry me?

dongangu.daddy has requested to join

Your eyes widen at Mingyu’s request, not expecting to be put on the spot like this. It’s not that you don’t want to see him. You’d look at that face every day if you could—beside you, on top of you, under you—but you’re mortified of swooning over him in front of this many people.

Finally deciding that your retweet did all it could do to expose you for being down bad for Mingyu, you dry your hands on a nearby towel and accept his request. Another screen pops up below yours. There’s some darkness at first, a few seconds of shuffling, and then Mingyu’s displayed in all of his bare chested glory.

“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” he teases, shifting to a more comfortable position in bed. Of course he had to be shirtless. Of course he had to be in bed. Fuck your sanity.

Your brain has to shake off a five second delay before you can answer. “You just got on and already you’re picking on me. I’m about to revoke your privileges, sir.”

Mingyu laughs off your comment, confident that you’re bluffing. You are. “No, don’t do that. I’m sorry” he pouts, raking his fingers through his short dark hair, “I just expected you to be happier to see me.”

“I am happy to see you but you can’t come on my live talking your shit.”

“I thought you liked it when I talk my shit” he smiles, recalling all of the X rated texts you’ve exchanged over the past few months.

You shrug, mindlessly twirling your hair, “Talking is cute buuut actions are better.”

The true meaning of “action” is clear for you both. Mingyu’s wanted action with you from day one, spam liking your posts the moment he saw that you followed him. You had the prettiest face, the sweetest smile, and your body was so soft and plush he couldn’t stop fantasizing about getting his hands on you. You were even more irresistible in person and that knowledge has had him on a mission to make you his ever since. A mission he’s not willing to give up on easily.

“Action? I can do that. I heard you’re in LA” he says, the white sheet around him falling away as he sits up in bed, “I am too. If you aren’t busy, maybe we could see each other tonight.”

“Oh, y-you wanna see me? And do what?” you stutter, going in for another nervous sip only to find that the glass is empty. You were not prepared to be this thirsty for a drink or for him.

Mingyu tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes flicking down to take in what he can of your figure peeking out from the water. His heart begins to race, his cock stiffening at the way your lush breasts bob above the surface, droplets of water decorating your cleavage like diamonds.

“You tell me, babe. What do you wanna do?”

His question soaks your bikini bottoms with a new type of moisture, your pulse already racing. What do you wanna do? With Kim Mingyu? What don’t you wanna do?

“Gyu, aaah, fuck. It’s so…so…mmm” you whine, sinking lower onto Mingyu’s cock.

Your fingers trace his abs, your pink and blue ombre acrylics nicking his skin as your pussy relaxes to take the next inch of his cock. You’d seen it in pictures, even felt his bulge once or twice in person, but having him inside of you? Nothing could’ve prepared you for this stretch or for how full you’d feel after only a few inches. There’s still a couple more to go and you’re already shaking like you’re ready to cum.

“Keep going, baby. You’re taking it so well” he praises, hands cradling your hips to help you take him at your own pace.

He isn’t in a rush to fuck you. That was never an intention of his. Mingyu’s more than pleased to lay here with you in bed, your fluffy thighs snug around his waist, and enjoy the view from below. And what a view it is. The faces you make are too cute for words. They make him want to hold you close and protect you from the rest of the world. At the same time, they’re the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. And, coupled with those little whines of yours, they give him the ravenous urge to fuck your brains out. Every last cell.

“Don’t wanna wait anymore” you moan, leaning back with your arms behind you, palms resting on his legs. “I need it all.”

He smooths his hands down your thighs and back up again, “Anything for you.”

One thrust of his hips and you’re seeing stars. Mouth wide open. Eyes watering. It’s the fullest you’ve ever felt and you can only piece together a string of broken moans as your body adjusts to the new sensation.

Mingyu smiles up at you, beaming with pride at what he’s done to you. “Too much for you?” he teases, his thumb stroking a solitary tear away from your cheek.

You shake your head, never the kind of girl to reject a challenge. Breathing in deep, you steady yourself, raising your hips and slowly lowering them back down in a motion that has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Oh god, fuck” he groans not just at how perfectly your walls hug him and not just at you being wet enough to make that hottub outside look like the desert. Every move you make hits the perfect spot, your body titled at the exact angle required to make him feel like you’re stealing his soul straight from his body.

Keeping your pace, you lean forward and lick your way up his abs, sprinkling kisses across his chest. Mingyu can pretend that it doesn’t tickle in a way he likes much more than he thought he would but his body’s a dead giveaway. His muscles contract beneath your kisses, his length pulsing against your walls. You can almost hear his heart pounding through his chest.

“Too much for you?” you taunt, smiling up at him, your walls purposefully clenching even tighter around his cock.

Mingyu bites his lip, staring down at you like a meal he’s prepared to devour. The fire in his eyes makes your heart jump. Teasing him back has consequences and you can tell you’re about to suffer them.

“Nah, I want more” he growls and two strong arms close around your body, one at your back and the other at your waist. Keeping you flush against his chest, he spreads his legs and buries himself even deeper into your needy core. If you thought you were seeing stars before, there's galaxies now.

Mingyu holds you like he loves you, cradling you gently while he fucks you like he hates you, and with your arms pinned to your sides all you can do is take it. Waves of heat wash over your figure, the tingling of your nipples brushing his chest sending sparks through your system. There’s no talking back now, only fragments of his name rolling from your tongue.

“M-min…” you whine, crumbling as the thick head of his cock bumps your sweet spot. You can feel his warm precum leaking into you, mixing with your arousal to make every movement all the smoother.

“M-min” he coos, reaching a hand up to brush away the hair sticking to your pretty face, “Having a hard time talking back, sweetheart?”

Your eyes are hypnotizing on a regular day but he must admit that there’s something special about seeing them so dazed and glossed over all for him. He grabs the back of your neck with just the right amount of pressure, lifting you away from him enough that he shifts angles inside of you. It’s such a small change in position but it’s more than enough to have you squirming, mindlessly rocking your hips against his.

“I didn’t know I had such a greedy girl on my hands” he says, tracing your jaw with feathery kisses. In a split second the room’s spinning on its head and you find yourself face down on the sheets with your arms held behind your back.

Mingyu slaps your ass and the sting gets you up on shaky knees. He doesn’t even need to tell you what he wants because you want it too. Teasing his cock at your entrance, he takes his time savoring the way that your juices drip all over him, your pussy already clenching in anticipation.

He runs the head along your slit, dipping it up to roll across that perky little clit of yours. He keeps you like this so long you’re drooling onto the pillow, clenching and dripping down his length and he isn’t even inside of you yet.

Not one to be outdone, you drop your hips down, slipping him right up to your entrance. You sink back on him an inch or so, popping his head right inside of you. You hear a sharp inhale and feel his body give out on him for a second. You move your hips in a circular motion, teasing him with the sight of you stretching yourself open with his cock.

“I thought you said you wanted more” you giggle, shaking your ass in the cutest way.

Mingyu slaps it again, gripping your hips, “So she can still speak. We gotta change that.”

He slams into you and you cry out at the force of his thrust. The aftershock has your body humming but there’s no time to soak it in. Mingyu doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up even a little bit. He’s feral for you. Already addicted to the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Keeping your wrists pinned, he reaches around to massage your clit, and your knees almost give out. He catches you before you can collapse, keeping you right where he wants you. Gripping the pillow, you bite down hard, screaming as loud as you want into the soft cotton while he deep strokes you to the brink of insanity.

It’s not long before a familiar feeling’s tugging at your stomach. You’re like a bottle of champagne, all shaken up and ready to pop. Mingyu rubs your bud faster, kissing the small of your back, “You gonna cum for me, baby? Hmm?”

Your body answers before your words can, jiggling in all the right places while you cum harder than you ever have. The clench and release of your walls as you gush down your own thighs drags him closer to his own high but he’s not ready yet. He has to keep thrusting into you, playing with your pussy until your body’s spent.

For a moment it seems as if he’s achieved his goal. Reeling from your high, your whole body gives into the mattress and you’re stuck there, letting out the sweetest whines with his cock still inside of you. But that moment’s fleeting and in a few seconds you’re back up on your knees, whipping around to take his cock into your mouth.

You don’t hesitate to take all of it into your mouth, not gagging once as you rub it against the back of your throat. If the gasps and moans coming from overhead are any indication, your tongue wrapped around his cock has him wrapped around your finger. You feel around blindly until you find his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. Your tongue traces the veins of his shaft, feeling the blood rush to the head throbbing at the back of your throat.

The taste of your mixed arousal floods your senses as it drips from the corners of your perfectly pursed lips. You sneak a peek up at him. That gorgeous face. Those muscles dripping with sweat. His body jerks and you easily pick up on the signs, slipping him out of your mouth at the perfect time for him to cum all over your tongue and those plush, puffy lips. You take him into your hands, stroking him until you’ve gotten every last drop. Licking your lips clean, you kiss the tip and lay back in bed, bringing him down with you.

Mingyu cozies his head up to your belly, his chest heaving for air, “Where’d you learn to do it like that?”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m just gifted” you sigh, brushing your fingers through his hair.

“Well, whatever you did, just know it’s yours now” he says, propping his chin up to gaze at you.

“Mine? What’s mine?”

“I asked who this belonged to. You said it’s yours. Unless you don’t want it…”

“No! No! No!” you scramble, your cheeks warming up again, “It’s mine! It’s mine! I’ll take it.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, using his last bit of energy to crawl on top of you, “You’ll take it again? So soon?”

He spreads your legs, dipping his fingers between your legs and you’re still dripping wet. He presses up against you and you giggle feeling how hard he still is.

“You did say it’s mine” you smile, legs wrapping around his waist, “So give it to me.”

#svt x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #svt smut #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #mingyu fluff #mingyu x you #svt x you #seventeen x you #seventeen smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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honoura · 27 days

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Shaaloani: The Land of Enchantment Part One

Hello again! It's another lore-adjacent post from me about a niche special interest of mine. This time it's Shaaloani, the American Southwest/Northern Mexico inspired zone in FFXIV's Dawntrail.

I want to disclose a few things right at the start just to temper people's expectations: I will not be definitively ID'ing any of the indigenous-inspired structures or visuals as inspired by any specific tribe. That's not my lane! I'm going to link to things that they remind me of, for sure. But otherwise my hyperfocus is going to be on the physical environment, some animals, and the ceruleum as petroleum industry. It's what I recognize best! And what I know best, truthfully.

"Hon why are you doing this?" A variety of reasons honestly. After DT dropped I saw a lot of folks who did at least one of the following:

Commented on the Old West theme park aspect

Called it "miqo'te Texas"

Generally just called the whole map "Texas"

And if I'm honest... it bugged me! Not because I thought anyone was being malicious about it (it's mostly pop culture saturation I'd suspect), but to me it stung a bit that this zone, which I grew up on the fringe of, was... kind of flattened by a lot of people?

I don't know, the response to me just felt like people assumed they knew everything about it because they'd seen it already in movies or TV or Red Dead Redemption rather than the same open-mindedness about what was presented in places like Urqopacha.

This zone isn't just Texas -- yes there are some bits and pieces here (because it's pulling from the Chihuahuan Desert and the Sonoran Desert), but so much of it reminds me of New Mexico, Mexico, and Arizona. There's some Colorado, Utah, and Nevada there too! And the background story going on there is something that still happens in a lot of those states, by both the government and corporations alike.

That variety deserves to be celebrated! So come learn with me about the inspiration for Shaaloani!

Shaaloani Geography

Shaaloani has three major regions in the zone -- Eshceyaani Wilds, Pyariyoanaan Plain, and Yawtanane Grasslands. To get this out of the way, I'm going to tell you the one that reminds me most of Texas.

Ready?

Lake Taori of the Pyariyoanaan Plain.

It's river-fed, with canyons on both ends of the Niikwerepi. The trees crowding around it are cypress trees, as you can tell by the little nubby off-shoots called knees. To compare, here is a photo of cypress trees along the Frio River:

This is also reminiscent of places along the Rio Grande and Pecos Rivers, two significant water sources in West Texas. I also would not call them bayous! Bayous typically have brackish water, are slow-moving, and are way too far east.

However, it could be partly considered a ciénega -- which according to its wikipedia article:

"Ciénagas are usually associated with seeps or springs, found in canyon headwaters or along margins of streams. Ciénagas often occur because the geomorphology forces water to the surface, over large areas, not merely through a single pool or channel."

As a caveat, ciénegas generally don't have trees around them, but I also know that you can't really drown a cypress and they love sunshine. Regardless -- if you see trees in the desert they are typically growing along a water source. Balmorhea State Park has some cottonwood trees native to the area that are going strong.

Yawtanane Grasslands reads as a mix of the Chihuahuan Desert and the Eastern Plains of Colorado. Both are rather arid and home to a variety of grasses that can thrive in such a climate -- which has historically made both areas home to large cattle industries (whether or not this was ever a good idea is debatable, since cattle are very thirsty animals).

Meanwhile the Eshceyaani Wilds looks similar to the Sonoran Desert -- the red-hued soil and rocks, the abundance of cacti with the scrub brush and some drought-tolerant grasses. Here's a shot of the Sonoran within Saguaro National Park in Arizona:

Saguaros also only grow in Arizona in the States! As well as the organ-pipe cactus, which you see in Tender Valley. And prickly pears grow just about anywhere they can get a chance -- as well as barrel cacti, both of which we see in Tender Valley (along with what could be agave!).

You could probably make a case for it being a piñon-juniper scrubland -- everything's very short compared to those cypress trees, including the juniper trees! Piñon-juniper scrubland's found throughout the Southwest. There are also piñon-juniper savannahs and persistent woodlands intermixed in the same places. The difference lay in what plants you find with the piñon pines and junipers.

Visually, aside from the Sonoran Desert, I can also see a lot of New Mexico, like the Ghost Ranch in Rio Arriba:

It matches up with the mountains you can see, and both Yowekwa Canyon and Tender Valley. And of course, Tender Valley is likely a Grand Canyon reference, going by the sheer height of the cliffs. But you could also make a case for Canyonlands National Park in Utah.

There's a shot from Grand View Point Overlook within the park -- the closeness of the canyon walls and the warm earth tones also evoke Tender Valley!

There's also a lot of these sandstone formations in Utah that better fit Shaaloani -- like here in the Valley of the Gods:

Shaaloani Structures

I also at this point want to call attention to one of the two sites with cliff dwellings & adobe structures. We just saw Tender Valley above, which is confirmed to be old Yok Huy structures. But check out these Tonawawta buildings below.

As I stated before, I don't want to state which tribe these two styles remind me of. But I do want to say this again strikes me as another New Mexico and Arizona callback; both the Gila Cliff Dwellings and the Puye Cliff Dwellings are found in two different areas of New Mexico. And the Gíusewa Pueblo, also in New Mexico! Montezuma Castle is found in Arizona, and is pictured below! Look at that rich reddish earth color.

I also want to call attention to the place of worship for the Tonawawta in Yowekwa Canyon:

When I saw it my kneejerk response was to call it an ofrenda. But that's ultimately an incomplete response -- that was just the vibe I felt after seeing them during my life! What it also reminds me of are pictographs and petroglyphs. You find these all over the Southwest (the climate helps preserve them!), but I'm going to link some really great examples. I won't provide images to all though!

Crow Canyon Petroglyphs:

Piedras Madras Canyon at Petroglyph National Monument (New Mexico) Petroglyph Point Trail at Mesa Verde National Park (Colorado) Petroglyph Panel at Canyon Reef National Park (Utah) Nampaweap at Grand Canyon-Parashant National Monument (Arizona) Horseshoe Canyon at Canyonlands National Park (Utah) and the Hueco Tanks State Park (Texas)

In contrast, I don't want to spend a ton of time on the boom town structures in this zone; they are pretty straightforward references to mining towns during the different resource booms (gold, silver, copper, oil).

Similar blocky shapes, built out of wood. One thing I noticed as a neat addition are the decorative patterns painted on it -- again, I don't want to presume if there's a specific tribe tied to this. But I do think it's a neat touch and I want to think that's a design choice to convey the underlying theme that this is a zone at odds with advancing technology and wanting to keep hold of important traditions.

I WILL talk about the ceruleum wells and pumping though. Mostly because I'm impressed that they went with structures that so closely resemble early 20th century oil derricks. Those were also predominately made of wood (including the barrels, yikes!). The pump part of what's called a pumpjack were covered in the old days -- the ones we're most used to seeing now are made of metal and are thus left uncovered.

However, as you can see from this century old rig, even the wheel's made of wood:

I don't think ceruleum gushes the same way oil did -- it seems to behave more like natural gas. However, most natural gas pipelines do burn off excess, which can be seen as a little spout of flame atop.

Oil's occupied an awkward spot in the Southwest, and still does. Aside from the heinous crimes committed in Killers of the Flower Moon (where members of the Osage tribe were murdered for their oil shares in Oklahoma) and the Teapot Dome Scandal, oil is just... well.

Bear with me, I'm about to rag on Koana a moment.

The people who make the most money and have the most power over the average roughneck's life never live in the Southwest. They work in the c-suite and have more money than sense.

I find it very fascinating that DT chose to recreate this dynamic, this uncomfortable push-pull of a region rich in a resource, and it's being harvested at the suggestion and behest of a power that is physically removed from the area. And to some NPCs it's with a certain level of disregard to traditions and practices in place before, with the focus on the nebulous quantifier of 'progress'. Progress how? It depends!

But the folks at the highest seat of power never have to grapple with those questions, because to them it's a fairly cut and dry answer. This is the way to proceed, and if they want to take this nation into the "future", then this is the clear way to do it. It speaks to Koana's fixation on foreign technology to the point he de-values his own (partly due to his childhood trauma, which kind of prepped him to be susceptible to it).

Meanwhile the locals are the ones grappling the most with this change -- how it affects their plants and animals. Sometimes pits open up in the earth and ceruleum burns (which, Santa Rita New Mexico sank multiple times into the earth thanks to copper mining). On the map there's even discolored plants -- and they only occur in the vicinity OF the bulk of the ceruleum pumps.

This is at odds with core beliefs, keeping up with traditional practices. It puts people in the place of 'do I participate in this system, which promises work and the means to take care of my family, even as it pits me against my cultural heritage?'.

Growing up in West Texas, one of the weirdest things to me (to this day) is how many people will claim they love the land. They do! They love the outdoors, they worry over how certain species of animals have become scarcer. But they also work in the single most damaging industry because it pays the most money. It lets them cover bills and give their kids what they never had.

That same push-pull is in Shaaloani narratively; when progress has been thrust upon you, how do you survive it? How do you make sure what's dearest to you comes along with you?

In Conclusion

I want to call it here for Part One -- Part Two after this will cover more observations I had regarding flora and fauna in the Shaaloani zone, and how that also shows the attention to detail given this zone! It's a good time! There will be dinosaurs!

#FFXIV #ffxiv dawntrail #dawntrail spoilers #zone spoilers #shaaloani #ffxiv lore #lore speculation #long post

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