#especially if he knows how he used to be as an alpha but physically cannot act that way anymore and just doesn't get his instincts anymore

[monster-cock69]

freshley presented peter whose genuinely loving omegahood and traumatized alpha bucky whose trying to relearn himself

[not-poignant]

Birthday Spotlight - Ohlo Ohlo Temsen

[17th April - Aries]

Ohlo Ohlo Temsen, or just 'Temsen', is an incredibly overpowered vench in the Fae Tales alternate universe story The Nascent Diplomat. There, he is introduced first as a stern but compassionate healer, and later as a spokesperson, diplomat, member of royalty and someone so adept at magic that he would happily take on the Raven Prince and likely win.

Taking on the job of Gwyn's healer, becoming Augus' friend, Temsen guides both through the growth of their relationship and the mending of Gwyn's magic in the underground caves of Aethelwaters, deepening their understanding of intimacy, and needing a great deal of it himself to survive.

Temsen is often quite opaque, especially as we've gotten to know him more as a peak alpha in the Underline the Rainbow universe. He's cheerful and steady but also unafraid to be strict and commanding. He can be unexpectedly flexible, or very rigid. What's clear is his dedication to helping those less fortunate (and less powerful) than him, and his dedication to becoming a healer in every story we've seen him in.

'You have been so alone, and I do not think you are like the to-ahl, as some of the others say. You were not meant to be alone.'

The Nascent Diplomat

The Nascent Diplomat: Temsen first appears as a healer from the Ohlo Ohlo clan who comes to take care of Gwyn after he kills the to'ahl, gets poisoned, and wounds Kithkalkith Kimerrin. It becomes clear quickly that Temsen holds a significant amount of power and negotiating weight among his people, however, his weakness is that he cannot be away from his clan or from touch for long at all, forcing Gwyn and Augus to have frequent physical contact with him for his own health.

The Nascent Diplomat: Temsen really helps the rest of the story to continue coming alive. He heals Gwyn's magic, but more importantly serves as a healing compass to both Augus and Gwyn. He is accommodating but firm enough to make sure that Gwyn never strays from the path of growth, and it's clear that he has affection in his heart for these fae from the above, even if he has zero respect for other aspects of their lives, including the School of the Staff.

Also he point blank said he would fight the Raven Prince and even go to war with him due to his abuse and neglect of Gwyn, so you know...

Underline the Black: Appearing as the head doctor at Hillview Rehabilitation Facility, Temsen is a peak alpha who lives his best life as someone who doesn't need a relationship because he's responsible for the health of about twenty five omegas at any one time. He comes in clutch to assist Efnisien repeatedly during some rough gender issues, and also acts as a firm father figure, reminding him that young alphas do not disrespect or abuse other people just because they can.

Underline the Blue: We see Temsen at his most fallible here, as both Janusz' supervisor at Hillview, and Nate's doctor, we see the gaps in Hillview's ability to match alphas and omegas, and also in how they handle early heats and difficult situations. Temsen misses that Nate is an atypical omega, and ends up with an alpha who develops PTSD due to the methods he used to try and get Nate to bond with him.

Underline the Gold: Temsen becomes extremely involve with Flitmouse's care in Underline the Gold when he realises the extent of his Anorexia Nervosa, and later when Flitmouse undergoes corrupted heats. Flitmouse and Temsen don't always see eye-to-eye, especially on certain invasive exams. Temsen isn't afraid to manipulate Flitmouse to get what he wants, but in the face of a firm withdrawal of consent, he shows that he has the ability to concede and let the omega guide the way.

Underline the Red: While only mentioned so far, Temsen eventually becomes Faber's interim boss, changing their connection forever.

Among the vench, Temsen is a member of the Ohlo Ohlo clan and they all look the same (and indeed all vench look quite similar). But in the Underline universe where he spends more of his time these days, Temsen is African-Australian, his mother is a Kenyan immigrant and a doctor, and his father is Australian, and a doctor. He's multilingual, and can speak Kiswahili, Elgeyo, English, Indonesian, and Mandarin. He's semi-lingual in Vietnamese.

Temsen deliberately wears clothing that makes him seem less threatening, in the same way that he deliberately makes himself seem less threatening in the Nascent Diplomat as well.

Temsen can have a slightly formal intonation. In TND it sounds like he's still discovering how to translate his language into Gwyn's and Augus' language, and in Underline he's more likely to say things like 'goodness!' and be very direct and not prevaricate.

Temsen is always kind of overpowered in whatever he's doing, as a healer, as an alpha, as a doctor, he's just always at the top of his game.

Temsen is someone who can be physically intimate with a lot of people, but isn't inclined to have a very special 'someone' in his life.

Temsen taking on the Raven Prince and threatening to go to war over his treatment of Gwyn, and the Raven Prince essentially bowing to that and admitting he was right, was a pretty stellar moment actually.

In Underline the Black Temsen sailed in as the white knight to save Efnisien from his fear of being forced into the shape of an omega, and in a single conversation in front of a projector, managed to solve a lot of problems for Gary and Efnisien in one fell swoop. For that reason, I couldn't have him in the story for quite a few chapters lol. He's too powerful!

Always extremely competent and well-educated, but also willing to admit to his faults and apologise.

Relatively open to other's experiences, but you always get the sense that he holds back some of his counsel and that you're never quite seeing all of him, despite his direct way of speaking.

Despite having the power and status to act refined, arrogant and pompous, Temsen prefers to come across as humble and receptive, but sometimes it's clear that he's doing this in a calculating manner.

Temsen is always a healer!

Temsen is always a leader

Temsen started as a throwaway character. Even with all of my worldbuilding and character creation, I found myself suddenly needing a healer and I very quickly cobbled together a bunch of traits and made Temsen. We were only supposed to see him a few times, and he was never supposed to be as powerful as he became. He was a breakaway hit, and ends up becoming more prominent in the story as a result!

I think Temsen has outrageous chemistry with everyone, honestly.

I initially shipped Temsen and Gwyn together in Underline and I also ship them together in TND, but in a very low key way. If I think about very porny AU oneshots, Temsen/Gwyn has come up for me a few times. I don't think I'll write it, because I think they'll be intense/depressing.

Temsen's anger is one of my favourite things to write, so I may be looking for more opportunities to make that happen!

'In vench society, we measure our worth by how we treat those we care for. Not by our magical achievement, not by our individual jobs, not by the different aspects of our personalities. All of those things only matter in connection to how we treat those we care for. It is how we value other societies, though we find many in the above sorely lacking by our standards. We know our standards are unique, and we do not seek to press them upon anyone else. But Gwyn is my ward, his healing is under my domain and therefore the domain of all the vench, and it disturbs me as a healer to release him to someone who would do this to him. There is nothing to stop you from doing untold damage to him in the future. I can heal what we did to him. I should not have to heal what you did to him.'

The Nascent Diplomat

[nekropsii]

hello!I have a question about your alpha troll iceberg.

When did kurloz sexually assault meulin?I cannot find the source for it on my own.

I’m also a little skeptical since:

1.kurloz feels some form of guilt for deafening meulin.Not as much guilt as he shows,considering how he technically breaks his oath of silence by using his purpleblood magic

2.he isn’t openly sexual other than getting the codpiece,which I view as him following any orders from gamzee and/or lord English.And also his game sprite may have a bulge to it?im not sure about my second point

3.i don’t know why he would do that because he doesn’t abuse meulin that way.In openbound 2,he treats meulin more as an easy pawn to assist him in his malicious plans to help lord english & gamzee rather than sexually assaulting her to ruin her and then manipulating her.

I’m really curious to know when this happened,since it would reframe his already atrocious actions as even worse

Also I have a bias since I have a weird attachment to kurloz for no canon compliant reason.

Hopefully this isn’t too long…it probably is but I hope 8]

I applaud the thoroughness, actually, and thank you for reaching out. I love when people ask me to Cite My Sources, so to speak.

It's in one of the Signing portions of their interactions, so I do not necessarily blame you for missing it.

This is clearly non-consensual touching that is being framed as Upsetting on Meulin's end and Deliberately Creepy on Kurloz's.

I'm not really sure how I feel about it. Well, I feel bad about it, obviously, assault is literally always bad, but I really cannot decipher Kurloz as a character. Not fully, really, 'cuz he doesn't have much of one. To me, this reads as a pure, unadulterated Makara Moment, and I'm frankly just kind of tired of it. Kurloz's character is just a nebulous haze of Plot Instigation and Racism. Gamzee's character is also just a nebulous haze of Plot Instigation and Racism. These are both characters who are coded as Black, who are portrayed as being very dominating, abusive, and physically + sexually violent - especially Gamzee. Kurloz doing this is weird, but it's not... Shocking, I guess.

His relationship with Meulin is absolutely, uh... Troubled... To put it nicely... What, with him manipulating her into a cult and mind controlling her into doing his bidding all the time, on top of this assault, the Bullshit Clown Magic having the side effects of Confusion, Brain Fog, and Memory Loss, and her still seeming to have some kind of suppressed attraction to him... It's complicated. I think it could be genuinely very fascinating to explore, if one has the stomach for it. And a deft enough hand... And is capable of handling it all with maximum sensitivity. It's verging on something really good... But it falls kind of flat, and it's fucking exhausting that we're having this same damn conversation with another fucking Makara.

This could be done extremely well. There's some genuinely solid grounds here for exploring a very complex, very visceral abusive relationship, kind of like what was going on with Gamzee and Terezi, but... There was both just not enough time to set that up fully, and also I am so tired of Makaras being Like That.

I wish I could say this was surprising. I really do. It's not, though. It's like... On par with Gamzee being kind of a Necrophile. I just have to sigh and throw my hands up and accept it. Like, god dammit, okay, I guess we're doing this today! Sure! Whatever! Fuck my life.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

How does omega Kiri deal with being an omega and trying to maintain his mainly image?

We all know the poor boi would need all the reassurance and cuddles, and yall better be willing to comfort him to the moon and back!

HELLO MY LOVELY!!!!!!!

ఌOmega Kiri hated himself in middle school fr fr, poor baby was so unhappy with his cowardice that he partly blamed his secondary gender. After character development™️ tho, he soon realises that he can be a kickass hero no matter what 😎.

ఌI think he still definitely wears scent patches, only because he knows he releases a strong scent, especially when training or doing hero work. He’s grown to love and accept everything about his secondary gender, this is just so he doesn’t make others feel uncomfortable with his scent (respectful king 😤😤).

ఌWhile he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s an omega, he doesn’t go out of his way to talk about it. He isn’t embarrassed, he just doesn’t think that him being an omega should relate to his abilities as a hero or a man.

ఌ This absolute cutie CANNOT hide his purrs for the life of him. Anything and everything sets him off. Cat videos? He’s purring along with the cats. Sweet compliments? His cheeks are pink and his chest is rumbling. A civilian thanks him for saving them? Any omega around him is purring along with him.

ఌ He requires his daily cuddles to function. His omega chirps at him for cuddles as soon as he wakes up until as soon as he gets them. Even minimal physical contact like looping pinkies is enough to satiate him, he just loves his alpha 🥺🥰💕

ఌ Kiri loves loves LOVES group cuddle sessions!!! Kiri uses any excuse to get bundled up with the Bakusquad and have sweet dreams 🥰 slotting himself amongst his fellow omegas (Denki and Katsuki) and having the three alphas of the group sandwich them in a group cuddle (Sero, Mina and you).

ఌ He adores being scented!!!! He loves how intimate it is to bare his neck in submission for you, to be soaked in your scent.

ఌ When it comes to his heat, that’s when he’s most vulnerable. He usually doesn’t care for toxic masculinity bullshit, but it feels different to him as an omega in heat.

ఌ He needs to be held nearly EVERY second of his heat. Whether that’s pinky/finger holding, his face buried in your neck, your fingers in his hair, he doesn’t care. He loves the closeness and if he could, he’d scoop out your organs and live in your ribs.

ఌ Kiri lives for praise. Being called a good, sweet omega makes his cheeks go almost as red as his hair. He loves sitting with his head on your chest, purring and chirping away as you coo praises to him.

[whumpbby]

So, like, the fact adult Jin Ling tries to keep his uncle out of sect politics to protect him from being pulled into any mess/used again really gets to me.

In the abo au it would be even sweeter - Jin Ling is about the only person alive that knows his uncle is an "omega of a sort". Even though they've never talked about it and Jiang Cheng never got to the bottom of why exactly his secondary gender changed (thinking about the Core Transplant is out of question, he doesn't think about it, he cannot), Jin Ling isn't stupid. As he got older the inconsistencies became obvious and he started to put some things together and noticing that his jiujiu isn't like anyone else around.

His uncle is an alpha - he smells like alpha, he has alpha instincts, he can use alpha voice. Gods, can he use alpha voice. (Nowadays, Yunmeng Jiang is known for omegas that at most scoff at alphas trying to direct them with their voice. It's terrible, neighbouring sects learned to live with it, but almost every Congress includes some poor fool learning of that fact anew.) And Jiang Cheng goes into ruts! Like an alpha.

But Jin Ling was a fussy baby and an insecure child, and he was falling asleep attached to jiujiu's breast until he was four years old. He remembers how soft these breasts were and how sweet was the milk. And that is not something alphas can do - he knows that, he did his careful realsearch when he was staying in the Koi Tower (and wasn't that an interesting conversation with the head librarian that caught the young teenager in a section reserved for older readers. Especially eyeing the anatomical drawings of other alphas!)

(Jin Ling, for once in his life, had spun an amazing tale worthy of uncle Wuxian. A young alpha, orphaned and bullied, convinced there's something wrong with him, terrified of asking his strict uncle about the things. Would you ask the head of Jiang about the thigns, sir?? Would you dare??

The poor librarian was close to tears by the end of the tale and Jin Ling got access to all medical texts he needed to lay his fears to rest.)

Jin Ling knows his uncle's chest is still softer than it should be - due to regular checks disguised as heartfelt hugs his jiujiu still allows when surprised enough - and that his scent glands are more pronounced under his collar. He knows jiujiu's waist only seems so tiny, because his hips are just a bit wider than they should be on an alpha.

He knows his uncle can purr.

Alpha voice or not, alphas cannot purr like omegas do. Alphas cannot scruff pups with their teeth and send them into calming trance with careful pressure of their second fangs. Alphas cannot make the horrific sound his uncle made that one time when Night hunt went wrong and Jin Ling almost lost an arm to a Yao.

(The Yao froze. He saw the demon freeze at the gluttural growl that carried so close to the ground Jin Ling felt it in his knees. He saw the demon's eyes open wide and it's pupils narrow into slits before it's head fell...)

Once he reaches his late teens, sorrounded by the Jiang and the Jin, cultivators and servants and common people, Jin Ling understands his uncle is unlike any other. Unprecedented. Special.

He cannot think it's a bad thing - his uncle nursed him. Raised him. For all of his (some very obvious) faults there is no one Jin Ling loves and respects more. The fact of his physical strangeness is a downright blessing that allowed them to bond on a level deeper than would be otherwise possible. Jin Ling wouldn't dare to think less of his uncle for it.

...but he knew he's one of few.

As much as Jiang Cheng was respected as a capable leader and cultivator, as a man who single-handedly raised his sect from the ashes of destruction, as an alpha that stood by his people and protected them from evil...

As an alpha.

After the nightmare of Guanyin Temple Jin Ling is fully aware that trust should be rationed. Jin Guangyao taught him a lesson the boy carries with him ever since - people in power stay in power by using others. Just like Jin Guangyao used him as a hostage, just as he used his uncle's pain to stagger him in a fight. Any information can be used by these skillfull enough to grasp it.

And he'll be damned if he ever allows anyone to use his uncle again.

His strong and brave and amazing uncle - who is so sad and so hurt and so, so lonely.

A person with soft enough voice and thick enough face can easily take advantage of that loneliness and that hurt, and Jin Ling feels a growl growing in the back of his throat every time he thinks about someone like Jin Guangyao (not evil, but so horribly selfish) using his jiujiu like that. Slithering their way into his good graces and using his strangeness for their own ends. Blackmail or threats, or even disgust and scorn - thought of any of it directed at his uncle raises Jin Ling's hackles.

No, no one can be allowed that close. No one can be allowed a chance to uncover that secret. No one is allowed to hurt jiujiu anymore.

Jiang Wanyin raised and protected Jin Ling.

Now it's Jin Ling's job to protect him in return.

[mint-yooxgi]

Please we need yandere Alpha!Taeyong! There isn’t enough of that anywhere

If anyone had asked you to describe Taeyong three months ago, you would have replied to them easily, with a smile on your face.

"Oh, Taeyong? Yeah, I know him. He's the one who's always staying late to use the dance studio." You would say, seeing whoever it was you were talking to nod their head in confirmation. "He's kind. A bit quiet, but very supportive from what I've heard. I've seen him around campus a few times, and he seems kind of timid if you ask me, but he can be very observant and thoughtful."

"Wow, it sounds like you know him really well," they would often reply, to which you would simply shake your head.

"We're not that close," you would say, "but I've seen him around."

Oh, how Taeyong's entire being would light up every time he overheard you talking about him. Sure, you weren't close like he's always wanted, like he's always needed, but he's taking things slow. The last thing he wants to do is scare you off. It's happened before, and since you're just so perfect for him, he cannot- will not- risk loosing you.

Of course you would always see him around the dance studio. Expressing himself through this form of art is one of the many ways for him to manage his energy and emotions. Some of his other pack mates prefer boxing, or even running. Him? He prefers dancing.

Besides, the odd time he's caught you watching him from just outside the doors as he's practiced has set his heart racing in his chest. If he could burn any hotter, his skin would be on fire, practically melting beneath your gaze as he feels your eyes on him, and only him.

As it should be. As it will always be.

In this day and age, wolves can't really go up to their fated ones and say, 'hey, you're my mate', like they used to. The idea of spending eternity together can really turn some people off, apparently. Or so he's been told. Which is exactly why he's taking this approach with you.

That hasn't stopped him from keeping a close eye on you, of course. It's just a coincidence you haven't noticed him in nearly all of your classes. (A tragedy, if you ask him).

Slowly, he started making his presence known in your life, inserting himself more firmly in your social circles. He even started sitting closer to you in class, working up his way to sitting beside you in certain lectures that he knew you had by yourself.

It was a welcome change. For you at least. For him, the closer he got to you, both physically and socially, the harder his urges became. Did you always smell this good up close? Did you know what you were doing to him? You wore that shirt just to tease him, didn't you?

The worst for him was during the week of the full moon, when his beast snarled at him, practically begging for him to just finally claim what was rightfully his. But no. He had a pack to lead, and an example to set. If he couldn't control himself, how could he expect his pack mates to?

No, Taeyong had to always appear as his 'normal' kind and caring self. Especially to you.

That is, until one night when things got a little too heated in your room.

You had invited him over to work on a project, and luckily for him, both of your roommates were out for the night. However, unfortunately for him, this night just so happened to be the one right before the full moon. Taeyong knew he should have rescheduled, but you just seemed so eager for him that day, and his mind was foggy with thoughts of you and him alone at last that he had a lapse in better judgement.

"My room's just down the hall and to the left," you point off in that direction. "I'm just going to grab us some water, but feel free to make yourself at home."

Fuck, Taeyong swears that smile of yours will be the death of him someday. And your words? A content rumble nearly escapes him at the implications of starting a 'home' together.

His second test comes once he opens the door to your room.

Immediately, he is assaulted by everything you, and he thanks his lucky stars you are not around to see the way his eyes flash as your scent surrounds him. Would he be a creep if he stole one of your pairs of underwear he sees hanging oh, so innocently over the edge of your hamper just to his right?

Absolutely not. His beast snarls, fingers twitch by his side as he swipes the garment in the next moment, stuffing it in his back pocket. It was practically begging for him to take it, anyways...

By the time you enter your room, two glasses of water in hand, Taeyong is perched precariously on the side of your bed, attempting to control his breathing.

Your brow furrows. "You okay? You suddenly don't look so good."

"Never better," he hums, voice practically coming out in a purr as a pleased rumble escapes his chest at seeing you once more.

"Okay," you reply, a bit skeptically as you hand him his glass. His fingers brushing against yours purposefully, of course. "But if you're not feeling well, you should go home and rest. We can always work on this project another night-"

"No." He's quick to cut you off, before straightening himself and clearing his throat. "I mean- I'll be fine."

Despite the smile he sends your way, you don't feel all that reassured. Letting out a sigh, you shake your head, sitting down at your desk chair while opening up your laptop. "Then let's get this over with."

A few hours later and you've managed to outline your entire project, practically completing it all in one go.

Taeyong, of course, took this opportunity to continue to get closer to you, and as you typed away on your laptop, he came to stand beside you. Soon, he had been leaning over your shoulder, head resting just beside yours and dangerously close to your neck. He couldn't help but steal glances at the smooth expanse of skin every now and then, practically begging for him to finally mark you as his for all to see. And your scent? Fuck, it's the strongest it's ever been.

Never has Taeyong had to exercise such self control. He could feel his fingers practically digging into the back of your chair, the leather straining underneath his grip. Oh, so badly did he wish it could be your body, his hands holding you close as he finally claims you as his. To be one with you, mind, body, and soul, is his greatest desire, and being this close to you like this only fuels his urges like never before.

Having finished typing for the night, you decided to lean back in your chair, unknowingly brushing your head against the skin of his fingers where he's been holding the chair in a death grip for the past twenty minutes. Sparks, like electricity travel up his arm from where your bodies meet, and he knows his eyes have bled golden once more.

You feel it, too, don't you? After all, how can you not? Not when he's this reactive to your touch alone.

In a flash, he's spun you around in your chair. Your wide eyes meet his hooded ones, mouth parting slightly as you take in his suddenly seemingly disheveled appearance. His chest heaves with each ragged inhale he takes, his golden eyes shining bright.

Your lips part in a silent gasp.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" His voice is low, rumbling out of his chest with the rawness of his words.

"I'm sorry?" You reply, your own voice coming out slightly higher than normal with your nerves now on high alert.

He leans in, frowning as he watches you lean back as far as you can in your seat in response. "I would never hurt you."

"What the hell is going on?" You haven't been able to tear your eyes away from his golden ones this whole time, your heart racing in your chest at the situation you now find yourself in. You nearly jump at the feeling of Taeyong's hand against your skin, cupping your face gently as a shiver runs down his spine. You freeze, panic now lining your every word. "What are you doing?"

"Something that I've always wanted to." He grins, but you don't feel an ounce of comfort at the way the expression stretches wolfishly across his features. "Something that I've always been meant to."

With those words, he claims your lips with his own.

[equallyloyalandlethal]

TSTMTT - thrett 👀

Their Sun Their Moon Their Truth Verse || unnamed fic, pre-ot3

“What do you want, Dunbar? Practice isn’t for another five hours, so I know I’m not late–”

A sharp whine cut through the phone, trapping the rest of his words in his suddenly too tight throat. Liam was saying something, but it was a mess of gibberish as Brett’s focus was solely on the still peaking shrill sound leaking through.

Biting back an impatient snarl, he managed to grind out a terse, "Is he okay?"

He tried to listen to Liam, he really did, but all his wolf could hear were the ongoing whines in the background. His chest clenched, a thorny sort of thing wriggling around his chest as his wolf snarled again, so far past worry he was edging in on fury. The prickle of claws sliding out of his fingers and sharp pricks of fangs poking through his gums had him clenching his eyes shut, forcing breaths in and out. His control was better than this. What three things cannot long be hidden? Finger by finger, he loosened his grip around his phone, trying to keep from crushing it. The sun. He took another, deeper breath, forcing it in through his nose. The moon. Out through his fangless mouth. The truth. He opened his eyes, continuing to breathe, and refocused onto the voices coming through the phone, intentionally searching out the words, even as his hand tightened around the phone.

Liam was babbling semi-coherently, trying to explain the whole situation, when all he needed to do was answer the question. Then, he abruptly quieted. The subsequent sighed, “Thank god. Here, it’s Brett,” tumbled over the line. The static shuffle of the phone being handed over almost had him growling into it. He needed an answer.

“Brett, hey–”

His wolf surged forward again, growling into the receiver at Scott’s voice. If he could, he would have leapt through the phone and snarled in the alpha’s face, telling him to get lost. The vehemence in that thought had Brett dropping his hand down, frowning. Liam being there, for whatever reason, was entirely fine. In fact, he was grateful for it. But Scott, an alpha, one who actively refused to claim Theo as his own despite how much the chimera had fought for him, being there was intolerable.

He managed to ask, "Is Theo okay: yes or no?" in a somewhat coherent manner, despite the growl continuing to roll around his chest.

Clearly taken aback by the rough tone, Scott was quiet for long enough that he heard Liam mumble, "Sorta."

Brett’s growl deepened to a snarl, confusion whipping the protective urge into something bordering on a frenzy. His claws sprang out again, scraping over the screen and embedding into his palm. Either he was fine or not, there was not really any room for an in between. Though, if anyone were to find it, Theo would be the one.

“He’s not hurt physically,” Scott assured. It wasn’t much, but it did manage to placate his wolf enough to calm the swirling storm in his head by a degree or two. “There’s definitely something going on with him, but he’s not letting either of us close enough to really ask what’s going on or–”

“Because you can’t ask him, especially not when he’s spiraling already,” said Brett, a sigh following shortly after.

He stood, spinning on his heel and beelining towards the house, textbook and notes forgotten. The phone was still pinned between his ear and shoulder as he took the steps up the porch two by two, barely hearing the alpha and beta as they rattled on. Once inside, he paused for the briefest moment, scratching out a hurried note for Lori, knowing she would wake up as soon as he started the car, and as worried as he was about Theo, he didn’t want her to be worrying too.

Thankfully, his keys were where they always were, despite him not remembering to put them there. He smiled lightly, sending up a silent thank you to his sleeping sister for her constant thoughtfulness. Without her, he probably would have lost his head a time or two just from leaving it places.

Another grating snarl rippled through the phone, Liam’s shouted “I’m trying to help you, fucktard!” coming through as equally loud and clear. Keys in hand, he bolted out the door. He bit back the snarl in his chest and the urge to tell the idiot to just back off and wait for him. It wasn’t like the others even fucking knew about them yet, they wouldn’t understand why he was this protective over someone other than Lori.

"Where are you right now?" he asked, unable to keep the growl out of his voice.

“The Preserve. Not far off of the old bridge.”

Without further ado, knowing he would only get more worked up listening to them fail at handling his boyfriend, Brett hung up and slid his phone into his jacket pocket.

[andersfels]

there had been something bothering me for a while about reading gay relationships written by women (and contextually, I'm presuming straight,) that i just couldn't put my finger on until just now.

the thing that always stuck out to me and bothered me to the point i couldn't read anymore was...well, for a lack of a better way to phrase it, one male character would obviously be written like a woman.

i knew as much, but i couldn't figure out why it bothered me. is it that I'm bothered by a man behaving like a woman? no, i mean why should behaviors be gendered? is it because its projection? i mean again no, that's pretty normal. i couldn't even figure out what i meant bc i don't see actions as specifically gendered as someone who is nonbinary and i don't see any women i know behaving in those ways.

and then it hit me. its not that they're written "like women," its that they're written like STRAIGHT women. the behaviors in question aren't like, non-male in that they embrace femininity or reject toxic masculinity, it's that they're put-on behaviors based on a straight woman's interpretation of what men are attracted to. and these straight women cannot conceptualize a man being attracted to something else, even if they're writing about gay men.

so these stories will have a traditionally male character, and then the male love interest, and the love interest will not also behave in any way like the other man; and he will instead behave in ways that are traditionally seen as "cute" and generally attractive in women. i mean physically making themselves smaller and putting attention on that, excessive giggling to appear more innocent and childish when nothing funny is happening, focus on hair and fashion and beauty routines when they're wildly ooc for the character. its all filling the stereotypes of what straight women think men are attracted to, bc they cannot conceptualize men being attracted to other men without all of that.

it tends to roll around to specific genres too, especially like. omegaverse, which carries this unsettling bioessentialist form of heteronormativity that romanticizes the idea of attraction forming between innate identity types that you're born with and cannot change, and have predetermined opposite types that attraction is biologically programmed for. and this attraction is based on things like pheromones, the feminization or masculinization of physical characteristics (in that alphas are seen as more attractive for being more masc, and omegas for being more feminine, and the closer an alpha is to a cis man or an omega to a cis woman despite their genders, the more attractive they're seen,) and it places value on things like the omega's ability to bear children.

its a whole genre that uses straight up reimagined bioessentialism and heterosexism projected onto a world of gay characters so that the gay sex is consumable and fetishized, but straight women don't have to deviate from their heteronormative understanding of how attraction functions.

and it just. kind of blows my mind bc now I've figured out what it is that specifically gets under my skin, i can't stop seeing it.

its like i will be reading, stop, go "men do not behave like that," and then "well why don't they? is the belief they can't rooted in sexism? in cisnormativity?" and then "no, because most women i know also do not behave like that." because the reality is that while i don't personally gender behavior, it is a behavior rooted in heteronormativity and what het people believe that men are attracted to, and therefore a behavior literally only done by straight women.

[starkraivennemad]

The First Friend - The Last Goodbye

Sherlock had accompanied John on a two-week tour of speaking engagement in the States. Dr. John H. Holmes-Watson’s latest studies was getting a buzz in the medical community.

The alpha’s testimony on medical theories and new procedures in the years since his first papers on the subject when Dennison vs, Zhao otherwise known at the Emancipation of Simone Zhao from Lei Zhao, the precedent setting case that became public knowledge in the AO Magistrate. Dr. Watson’s pain-management procedures guided the couple through their six-month atrophy with minimum physical pain. What it cost Zhao to be free of his wife financially, yet keep their Second Mate, soon-to-be Zhao’s First Spouse Rolando, was a different story. Still the success of the ground-breaking case made Dr. Watson, already known for his seminal work on omega studies, was no longer a rising name, but a well-known and respected name in several countries with notable alpha-omega populations for nearly two decades.

“In the over near three thousand cases only fourteen did not work out as expected. And I phrase it that way, because in eight of the cases the alpha or omega died evoking actual severance which overrode everything else. In two cases - one was still in love with their partner and was sabotaging the process not wanting to separate…”

John frowned slightly feeling a spike in tension from his omega waiting off to the side before he caught himself. 

{Omega?}

He mindspoke with Sherlock even as he continued with his audience.

{Apologies my alpha. Please finish.}

{Okay.}

“In the remaining cases, when it became clear the process was not working the couples were interviewed anew. In the end it turned out they still very much wanted each other. And as no one knows the minute physiological details of what makes severance what it is, it turns out – even if there are huge problems in the marriage – when a couple truly love each other, they cannot sever themselves. As a result, in the past few years, couples counseling has been added to the interview process to help the couple determine if there is a need for emancipation or simple communication and…”

{We must go, John, NOW.}

John technically had another five minutes, but he knew by Sherlock’s tone, there was not enough time.

“In conclusion: There’s Alpha and there’s Omega and especially when it comes to our kind our bodies know there’s nothing better than love. Thank you.”

He had barely cleared the stage when Sherlock stepped up to him.

{ I got the call.}

John understood the urgency by Sherlock’s face.

{How close is she?}

He asked, but he is a doctor after all. He knew the answer.

{Louis genuinely believes she’s only waiting for us, but I know not how much longer she can wait - even for us.}

John and Sherlock were on the next plane available back to London and went straight from Heathrow Airport straight to her bedside.

Cancer respects no one, not even doctors.

First diagnosed some five years ago, she had already undergone a Whipple procedure. It bought her time, yes, but never enough. Three months ago, the pancreatic cancer returned with a vengeance. Two weeks ago, she signed a DNR.

Knowing they were in the states and what it would mean - seven hours ago, her husband, Louis Brealey, called Sherlock and John and asked them to hurry. 

Refusing a medical facility, she had chosen to hospice at home. She lay frail in her bed, until she heard the two men at the door and smiled. Louis Brealey looked up and guided everyone else out of the room, giving Sherlock and John time with her.

“You have no idea how I wish I could heal you.” John whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

“Stop it John, I’ve seen some of the amazing advances you’ve done with alphas and especially omegas. I absolutely know if it were in your power to help me you would.” She chastised. “As a beta I’m out of your bailiwick. It’s okay. I’m just glad you were in my life. You and Sherlock are among my closest friends. Though the least either of you could have done is bring in those portraits I know you have hidden in 221c.” She had teased.

John and Sherlock’s true ages were not reflected in their faces. Though all three were now in their sixties, only she looked it. She was just the latest in a string of people to have jokingly made a Dorian Grey reference to their aging.

“That’s all? Easy. You want to see them, my friend; you must make an appointment to come by Baker Street next week.” Sherlock returned the tease.

“Fine. Tuesday after work. 7pm.” She chuckled. Her ever-bright eyes belied what all knew were her last moments with them.

Sherlock held her hand and fought against the tears.

John left, giving Sherlock some time alone with her, because he understood.

She was his friend.

Being the type of person he was, especially as an omega, Sherlock did not have any true friends outside of Victor. During the decade that Sherlock and Victor were apart, Sherlock became the World’s Only Consulting Detective. Yes, the first couple of years when she was desperately infatuated with him and it was uncomfortable for both, but it passed and a true friendship with her grew from there. She was the first person in his adult life, that was not family, who cared about him, did not try to change him, and wanted nothing from him. Yes, Sherlock met Lestrade first, and met her through him, but she was the first friend Sherlock made on his own.

And now he was losing her.

Less than two hours after they arrived, retired Medical Consultant Margaret Anne Brealey – née Hooper, affectionately known as Molly, became one with the universe. Her husband, Luis, their three children, Mina - her best friend since childhood, along with John and Sherlock her closest friends since her early 30s were by her side.

Read on AO3

[strititty]

CHAPTER 3

dave(not-a-sprite) blowing up jade's phone With The Awkward Ex-BF Texts is so fucking hilarious to me. i'm so sorry dave.

You have no idea what that means.

“I have no idea what that means.”

this is also extremely funny. i just fucking love when dialogue echoes the narrative. this was used to great effect on me one time in a roleplay, as the character was an unidentified mindreader in our mists. not that that's what's happening here, but it sure is fun!!

He opens an arm and Dave goes to him in an instant, folds against his side like he belongs there.

You are irritatingly, irrationally jealous.

oh dave... hold that thought, bro had another seizure!

GG: hi dave!!!

JADE WITH THE ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE TIMING.

love how dave (apple flavor [they both manifest physically and throttle me for referring to them as flavors, which i am 100% sure also happened to alpha dave during their initial meeting]) is the one who's like 'yeah this isn't fucking sustainable' but dave (orange flavor [is brutally murdered]) is very much just like 'fuck it i physically cannot deal with this'

and we get this

“He’s right, DS,” he says after a moment.

from dirk, who of course is backing up dave (red)--i think it's so interesting that he's getting away with a nickname and i cannot for the life of me remember if that becomes a thing later, especially when i DO remember that alpha dave trying to pull off the nickname thing ends with sour feelings all around.

incidentally i think that calling davesprite 'nintendo' is still one of the cutest random nicknames from across all of fics.

Being carried like a wet bundle of grapes, held out in front of Bro like you’re a baby who pissed himself, is so fucking embarrassing, and you scowl the whole time, just to make sure he knows exactly how much you hate this.

extremely evocative, funny, and kind of sad, so i figured i'd point out this paragraph, especially as it leads into dave and dirk making room for him on the bed. bromthers... stick together... especially after that huge note of jealousy it’s kind of heartwarming.

[animeomegas]

Who is the most needy while in heat?

I decided to write for a few characters for different categories: Clingiest, Horniest, Territorial and Requires Support. Enjoy~

Who is the clingiest:

1.     Itachi – Itachi has only ever had soft heats in his life(heats that are not sexually, but instead emotionally charged). He didn’t have his first heat until he was already part of the Akatsuki and didn’t feel safe enough for a proper heat. His health also isn’t the best, so his body knows to have soft heats rather than normal heats. Because he only has these types of heats, they are very strong. He feels a constant urge to be by your side, ideally with you touching him at all times. He can’t take suppressants because they mess with his illness, so he can’t minimise the effects. He spends the two days holed up in his room, the door locked and sealed shut. He won’t let you leave his nest much, growling and whining if you try. His instincts are screaming at him that he has to protect you and that you have to protect him. He can get a little addled and confused because the impulses are too strong. He’s extremely clingy in heat and he hates it. He always feels embarrassed afterwards.

2.     Izuku – Izuku is prone to crying and feeling very rejected if you neglect him during his preheat or heat. He feels the sting of rejection very strongly and feeling abandoned during a heat is… not good for omegas to put it lightly. It can make them sick if it’s serious enough. So, Izuku will definitely try and keep you in his nest as much as possible, asking wordlessly to be carried with you if you need to leave for a moment. Going to work or leaving the house during his heats (even when he’s on suppressants) is a no-no for him. He will do anything to get you to stay with him, including but not limited to hiding your keys, seducing you, and begging.

3.     Mammon – From the second he’s in preheat, he literally will not leave you alone. He’s very attention starved, but his slight tsundere tendencies keep him from acting on his need for affection. His heat and preheat remove the tsundere tendencies and make him even more desperate for attention. He’s hanging off of his Alpha constantly, following them around and sleeping in their room. He enjoys laying on top of them while they stroke his hair or rub his back. Will growl away anyone who tries to take you from him. If the growling doesn’t work, he’ll whine at you to stay with him because he knows you can’t refuse him when he’s like that.

4.     Kaoru – He doesn’t like how clingy he is, but it’s very uncomfortable for an omega to ignore their heat urges, so he doesn’t bother trying to resist it. He’s very prone to loneliness when he’s in heat or preheat, so he likes it if you’re with him as much as possible. He will spend most the time sitting on your lap, innocently and not so innocently.

5.     L – He isn’t particularly fussed about constant physical affection, but he wants you to be in the same room as him at all times. He constantly turns away from his work to make sure you’re still sitting in the room with him, and in the evenings, he likes if he can sit on your lap while he works. His heats are reduced from suppressants, and his libido is very low generally, but he still likes to make sure his alpha is safe and with him during his heat and be surrounded by his alpha’s scent.

Who is the most territorial during heat:

1.     Sasuke – Will straight up growl at anyone who gets too close to you both, and it won’t end well if someone shows up at his house when he’s in heat. Sasuke immediately views whoever it is as a threat and would likely try and attack them, especially if they were a stranger or someone he didn’t like. He is a lot less stressed during this time if you both just hole up at home for his preheat and heat. One of the reasons he makes his nest in a walk in wardrobe is because it’s an easily defendable place.

2.     Shikamaru – He has to have an arm around you or vice versa at all times. He makes sure you always smell like him during his preheats, just as a warning to other omegas. In heat, he gets very intense and caught up in the feelings, so interruptions from outsiders will be jarring and he’s likely to react aggressively.

3.     Shinsou – Is very paranoid when in heat and preheat. He gets nervous about people coming to try and hurt him and his mate while he’s weak, so he doesn’t like anyone he doesn’t know around you or him. Shinsou is fiercely protective of his family and his alpha. When he’s actually in heat, he would probably try to attack anyone who got too close.

4.     Belphie – Likes to just lay down and sleep with you when he’s in preheat, and whenever any of his brothers (or anyone else) try and get you to move, he growls them away, wrapping his arms around your chest to stop you from going anywhere. Would definitely bite someone if they were brave enough to try and remove him from you by force. When he’s in heat, he uses compulsion charms to keep people away from the attic where he likes to spend his heat with you.

5.     Diavolo – He can’t keep his hands or lips off of his alpha during preheat, but not just in a horny way, mainly in a ‘they’re mine’ kind of way. He likes to show off his relationship to others as a warning to stay away. He is delightfully smug if you return the treatment.

6.     Kusuo – He pretends he isn’t being territorial when he’s in preheat, but whenever you end up in conversation with someone, Kusuo is just suddenly standing next to you, I wonder how that happened? He also makes a way greater effort to ditch anyone who might interrupt his alone time with you. He turns his friends away if they show up at his door when he’s in preheat. When in heat, he gets off on the ‘you’re mine and I’m yours’ aspect.

7.     Light – This boy in greedy for your attention when he’s in preheat, and very bitter if he doesn’t get enough of it. He directs most of his anger at anyone who he perceives as taking you away from him. He will lie and manipulate others away from you both during this time with zero hesitation or regret. Would be possessive if you gave too much attention to a book while he’s in heat.

Who needs the most support:

1.     Alois – I headcanon that Alois has some specific heat related trauma, that I’m not going to get into right now, that impacts him greatly. His alpha is his protection. He only feels safe during his heat if you’re there with him. If you leave him alone, even just for a minute, he will panic, fear mixing with his already heat addled brain. For that reason, he needs a great deal of support, he needs a gentle touch and a constant presence.

2.     Shouto – His father paid to have him on illegal grade suppressant without him knowing just after Shouto’s quirk came in. Endeavour got the quirk he wanted, but not the dynamic he wanted, so he tried to change that. He experiences similar heats to Neji when he first comes off of suppressants. He’s so sensitive everywhere that it hurts. He wants to be touched so badly, but it hurts him. His alpha needs to work with him slowly to help him overcome the sensitivity.

3.     Neji – I mentioned before that due to the suppressant abuse that was inflicted on Neji as a child, his heats can be very painful, especially at first, much like Shouto. For a more in-depth analysis, I have headcanons on Neji’s suppressant abuse listed on my pinned masterlist.

4.     Keigo (Hawks) – He suffers from really bad paranoia during his heats. At first, it’s unclear what’s triggering the paranoia, but eventually it becomes clear that his treatment in the hands of the Commission have left him some nasty mental scars. When Keigo is in heat, he needs to have the door locked and bolted, the windows lock and covered with thick curtains and blinds, he needs to be rid of all technology or anything a person could use to contact him, and he needs all supplies to be in his nest with him so that neither you nor him have to leave that one room. It’s why the room he nests in must have an ensuite. He tends to have soft heats (emotionally charge rather than sexually charged) because his paranoia makes his body think he’s in too much danger to have a proper heat. It’s lucky that his heats normally only last for a day.

 (N-sfw under cut~)

Who is the horniest:

1.     Sebastian – He barely manages to keep it together during the day when he has to serve Ciel, but at night? You better be fucking him so well that he can’t stay coherent. He needs a full eight hours of sex before the heat withdraws enough for him to focus. A demon’s heat is very intensive after all.

2.     Kakashi – Every little thing sets him off when he’s in heat. Maybe you knotted him and the heat is subsiding a little, but then you bit your lip or stretch in a certain way, and immediately he’s consumed by his heat again. He struggles to keep it in his trousers long enough to hydrate and sleep. Sometimes he needs to cockwarm his alpha just to be able to calm his instincts enough to sleep.

3.     Tamaki A – He gets so horny at the peaks of his heat that any and all nervousness completely vanishes. He will beg his alpha shamelessly to get what he needs. He cannot control his voice at all, so you better hope your neighbours are forgiving, because Amajiki shouts some filthy things when he feels really good.

4.     Asmo – No one is surprised that he is completely and overwhelmingly horny for his entire heat. Most omegas have down moments for resting and hydrating while their heat isn’t so bad. Not Asmo. His heat lasts for three days (a maximum amount) and is intense for all of it. You have to make him to eat and drink something while he begs and writhes on your lap for you to fuck him.

5.     Kiba – Has a very high sex drive in general, even when he’s not in heat, so it’s no surprise that he’s basically insatiable when he’s in heat. He jumps his alpha five times a day when he’s in preheat, and every hour when he’s in heat. If you can’t provide for him as often as he needs, he will absolutely buy a knotted dildo and use it while he’s on top of you. Most of the time that convinces his alpha to help him get off.

[goddessofroyalty]

First Heat Care

So this was supposed to be about cultural differences between Piltover/Zaun/Noxum (as per this post) and instead it became about… Jayce and Mel trying to figure out how to care for Viktor during his heats while he keeps brushing them off because Work! Which was the original idea anyway so oh well.

The sections are bracketed by sex but like... this is a heat-fic so I feel like that’s allowed. I didn’t include the sex because this fic isn’t about that and I fear the length it would be if I included the sex.

Pairing: Jayce/Viktor/Mel

Tags: omegaverse

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37723021

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

Viktor manages to escape to the lab in the early hours of the morning.

Perhaps he is being dramatic in calling it an ‘escape’. But his previous two attempts to return to his work had been thwarted by Jayce. Viktor’s alphas having apparently figured out exactly how to quickly rekindle the flame of his heat and Jayce not above using it in his attempts to keep Viktor in the nest they had made for him.

Viktor understands that it is the custom in Piltover for an omega to not leave the provided nest until their heat was over but none of them have time to squander a full week just because of a heat. They might as well get work done when Viktor’s mind is clear. It wasn’t as if the academy was a dangerous place to be an omega in heat, especially when the omega now no-doubt stank of two socially powerful alphas. And their lab was plenty private to not be disturbing other’s work with his scent.

Mel at least saw sense and had aided Viktor in slipping out without disturbing Jayce’s sleep. Helping him put his braces back on with gentle, affectionate hands and promising to tell Jayce where he was.

Of course it was only a matter of time until Jayce woke and discovered Viktor missing. So really it is no surprise when the alpha practically crashes through the doors of the lab.

“Oh good you are here,” Jayce says, sounding completely relieved. It makes Viktor feel a little guilty for leaving as he did but the progress he has made in the time was worth it.

“Where else would I be?” Viktor asks. He spends more time in the lab than his own home and honestly so does Jayce.

“I thought, look it doesn’t matter,” Jayce says, quickly walking over and wrapping himself around Viktor, nuzzling against him in an almost desperate attempt to ensure their scents mingled.

It borders on possessive but Viktor allows him to do it because he understands how calming it is to know your mate smells of you. Can feel his own general anxieties calming by how his own scent is being rubbed off onto Jayce at the same time.

“He thought you had gone to Zaun,” Mel says from the doorway. She looks a lot calmer than Jayce but Viktor supposes she had known exactly where he was.

“Zaun? Why would I go there?” Viktor asks pulling away from Jayce to look at the alpha. Ignoring the fact Viktor’s birthplace could be a dangerous place for an omega especially when in heat there was no reason for Viktor to need or want to go there now.

“I don’t know. I thought you might have decided you didn’t want us as your mates,” Jayce says.

Viktor does feel somewhat guilty about making Jayce feel that way as irrational as it is. But why would he think Viktor would reject them as his alphas? Even ignoring the obvious social power and objective physical attractiveness of them both, he would still want them as his mates. They treated him as their equal and respected the importance of his work despite all the reasons that caused most to discredit him.

If he was being honest either of them was more than Viktor could have expected in a mate. To think he got both was something he still hadn’t fully comprehended.

“Jayce, I plan on staying with you both for as long as you will have me,” Viktor says. Jayce makes a distressed sound at it but Viktor presses on because it is important Jayce understands where he is coming from. “But we cannot afford to skip a week’s progress every time I have a heat. We should take the opportunity when my mind is clear to get as much work done as we can.”

“He’s right Jayce,” Mel says, walking over to join them. Viktor feels calmer having her close as well, a sign the temporary easing of his heat would soon be over. “As romantic as the idea it is to spend a whole week only enjoying each other’s company we are not in the position to be able to sacrifice that much of our time.”

“I promise to inform you when I am in need of your assistance,” Viktor says. He can feel himself blushing at it despite the fact he had let both alphas satisfy the urges of his heat only hours before.

It likely won’t be long until he will want their help again either. If anything how long it has been is a testament of how good of job the two alphas did during the first peak of his heat.

The promise is apparently enough to convince Jayce who heads to his workbench, although he seems to be more sulking than working.  

“Is there somewhere I can clear for the week?” Mel asks, still by Viktor’s side.

“You do not need to stay,” Viktor says because the lab was hardly the space for a Councilor’s work.

“Allow me to remain in your company as well,” Mel says, reaching out to gently run her hand down Viktor’s cheek and down his neck past his scent-gland causing Viktor to shiver. “I promise not to disturb your work. But it would be lonely in my office knowing the both of you are here.”

And it would look like Viktor is favoring Jayce. He hadn’t thought about it – having two alphas typically results in a pecking order established. Something none of them are interested in doing.

Viktor will need to be careful not to accidently imply one.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You can stay of course. Take the bench over there.”

“It’s alright Viktor, we are all still figuring this out,” Mel says removing her hand and going over to the bench Viktor pointed to. It’s the leased used in the lab so is mostly piled with notebooks and papers they should probably pack away anyway. “Where is your assistant? I was hoping I could ask her to collect the reports for me.”

“I gave Miss Young the week off. I figured I would save her the embarrassment of being around me currently.” Not that the heat itself was that embarrassing to be around when not at a peak. Viktor just didn’t trust the he would be motivated to return to one of their apartments every time it got to the point where his mind was foggy and his scent thick in the air trying to communicate his body’s want for an alpha’s knot to those around him.

Plus he would prefer to just keep the scents in the lab to him and his alphas during his heat as best he could.

“Right,” Mel says, “I suppose I will just get them myself. It won’t take long.”

“I’ll go with,” Jayce says.

Viktor realizes he doesn’t want either of them to go right now. He already feels like they are too far away from him as is.

“Actually,” both alphas turn when he says it and Viktor has to swallow before he can continue from the saliva building up. It always amazing how fast heat peaks can sneak up on him. “I, uh, require your assistance first.”

“Yeah?” Jayce asks, practically dropping what he was working on to walk over.

“What do you need Viktor?” Mel asks, closing in as well.

Maybe Viktor should feel cornered and intimidated to have an alpha on either side. But these are his mates and he is in heat and can he really be blamed for the fact it makes the heat in him grow stronger and his pants start to get damp with slick?

“You know what I need.” What else would it be when he is in heat?

“Then we should head back home,” Jayce says, grabbing onto Viktor’s hips and nuzzling against his neck. Rubbing his scent onto Viktor.

It makes the need of the heat spread through Viktor even faster. Rather counterproductive if Jayce’s goal was to get Viktor back to any of their apartments honestly.

“No time.” Viktor doesn’t want to wait for them to go somewhere else. He wants his alphas now.

“What about the nest?” Mel asks, crowding closer on his other side.

“No need.” Nests are a waste of time and energy. Nice to have but hardly necessary. “The couch will do just fine.”

He can feel the two alphas share a look at it.

“Are you sure?” Mel asks. “We don’t mind if you would prefer to go back to the nest.”

“No, the couch is fine,” Viktor repeats, reaching for his cane to stand. His legs feel weaker than they normally do as he makes his way over to the couch.

The two alphas follow behind him.

He wouldn’t be against one of them picking him up and carrying him over it. In some ways would actually like it – feeling the strength of them in the fact they can carry him instead of his unsteady legs under him. But he’s yet to figure out how to explain that want seeing normally he would find it bordering on patronizing.

He practically collapses onto the couch and the alphas both follow. It is small for the three of them to comfortably fit, but Viktor is sure his talented and creative alphas will figure out a way to make it work.

 ---------------

 Viktor wakes alone in the lab.

He’s covered by just about every blanket that they have in the lab, including the fire-suppression one. It is definitively the doing of the two alphas considering he had fallen asleep where he lay after their last round of satisfying the undeniable need of his heat. His cane is resting on the side of the couch, within reach without being at risk of him accidently knocking it over in his sleep. His clothes folded on the nearest table.

He isn’t worried about Jayce and Mel not being there. They are probably just getting the reports Mel was talking about before Viktor requested their assistance with his heat.

They should be back before he needs them again. And if not he can always return to his previous methods of heat management, even if they are less effective.

He sits up and stretches as best he can with his braces still on before getting dressed and returning to his workbench, ignoring the residual feeling of stickiness. He can shower later.

It isn’t long until Jayce and Mel return. Mel unsurprisingly with paperwork in her arms as well as what Viktor is guessing is lunch. Jayce, a bit more surprisingly, is carrying what Viktor is fairly certain are items from the nest that had been set up for him in Mel’s apartment.

“How are you feeling Viktor?” Mel asks after putting the papers down on the bench now designated for her. Coming over to press a kiss against Viktor’s forehead, putting the food in front of him.

“I’m fine,” Viktor says, watching as Jayce starts setting up the bedding around the couch. He has a feeling he knows why but still has to ask. “What are you doing?”

“We figured you are going to want to spend most of your heat here so we might as well just bring the nest to you than try and convince you back to it,” Jayce explains.

“You don’t have to do that.” They had already put so much effort into setting up the first nest. Viktor can’t help but feel guilty at the idea that they are going to go to all that effort a second time. “It was fine where it was.”

“We want you to be comfortable,” Mel says. “And we should have realized that that would be here for you.”

“Oh.”

It’s sweet and considerate of them really. Two of the most sought after alphas in Piltover and they are relocating a whole nest because they have realized he would prefer to spend his heat in an academy laboratory instead of one of their lush apartments.

And all Viktor can see is the unnecessary effort of it. He just wants them and his work and is perfectly happy making do with the couch already in the lab and the handful of blankets on it.

“We brought you food as well,” Mel adds, gesturing to the container in front of Viktor.

“I am not hungry, you can have it.” Heats always suppressed his appetite and more often than not he just forwent the effort of trying to force himself to eat what little he could stomach. No point in letting the food go to waste though.

“We already ate.”

“Ah, I will have a little then.”

The two alphas seem pleased at it, and when Viktor opens the container he realizes it is his favorite stew from the store just around the corner from the Academy – slightly more watered down in what must have been a conscious request because of his heat.

“You don’t need to watch me eat,” he says when he realizes they both are. “I promise I am not going to toss it into the plant to pretend I have.”  

“We don’t think you would do that,” Mel assures, and there is a flush on her face as well. Viktor realizes it is probably just some alpha instinct, knowing they are providing and caring for their omega during the heat or something.

It still feels slightly off-putting to have the both of them watch him eat.

It feels awkward when he has to push half of it away, despite feeling on the verge of uncomfortably full.

“Did you like it?” Jayce asks.

“Yes, it was good thank you,” Viktor says and they both seem satisfied at it. “But I do need to return to my work.”

“Of course,” Mel says, seeming to be knocked out of her daze to glance down at her own paperwork. “I really need to finish reviewing this report today. Jayce do you mind getting the rest of the stuff for the nest by yourself.”

Viktor doesn’t even bother trying to protest it. It’s clear his alphas want to build a nest for him and while he doesn’t fully understand why he does understand it is important to them.

“Of course,” Jayce says, pressing a kiss to both their foreheads before leaving.

It takes him three trips to get everything and Viktor tires to ignore the guilt in his gut that returns at it. Reminding himself that Jayce doesn’t seem bothered by the task, Mel joining him in rebuilding the nest once all the materials are in the lab.

Viktor ends up stopping his own work to watch them.

They are so meticulous about it. Giving it the same focus and eye for detail that they apply to their work despite it being a temporary thing that’s sole purpose, if one is being honest, is for the three of them to have sex in. They are giving it more focus than Viktor has ever given to his own nest when he did bother actually going to it – his method more just dumping stuff in a pile to collapse into without much thought put into the why or whether there might be a better arrangement of it.

As much as the time and effort they are putting into it isn’t necessary Viktor can admit it is nice to think that they are going to the amount of trouble they are for him. Creating something specifically for his heat to keep him comfortable and safe.

It might just be his heat talking but he wants to reward them for putting that much effort into it for him.

“What do you think?” Jayce asks once they are done, stepping away to let Viktor assess it.

He doubts he will have any complaints, especially seeing he already approved the first version of the nest back when his heat first started. Still, he gets up to assess it because he knows they wouldn’t believe him if he didn’t.

They have done a good job considering it is a nest built on top of a couch. It spills onto the floor of course but there isn’t an obvious line where the couch ends and floor beings, the mix blankets and pillows being used to make a smooth slope. A mix of Jayce and Mel’s house colors as well as the dull greys of the lab blankets. A coat each of theirs in the heart of it.

“It’s perfect,” Viktor says because he can recognize the clear conscious effort put into it and knows in Piltover it’s important for an omega to accept the nest their alphas provide. And they have made a very good nest. Both objectively in ensuring that they are equally spread across it so no one of their scents is stronger than the other and including items of Viktor’s in it to ensure it is still very clearly a nest for him, and subjectively in having it be more practical than ornate and with plenty of space for Viktor to move and leverage himself in and out of it.

Honestly, they deserve a reward for how good a job they did.

“Although, I do think we should, ah, test it out so I can give a complete assessment of it,” Viktor says because he could go with another round with his alphas anyway. The peaks of his heat coming closer together and he gets further into it.  

Jayce looks slightly worried about it but Mel has an almost predatory grin.

“I think we can provide some rigorous tests for it,” she says, her hand reaching out for Viktor.

She gently pulls him into the nest when he takes it, Jayce quickly following after so the two alphas can prove just how good of a nest they have built.

 ---------------

 Viktor wakes up feeling sticky and sore.

Without the constant mental haze of heat he feels so much more aware of the discomfort in his body. No pain though, so he hasn’t strained anything despite how vigorous they had gotten in the depths of his heat. The alphas care and concern paying off.

As he wakes he becomes aware that he’s practically pinned under Jayce and Mel is pressed right up against him to cage him in from the other side. Both of them smelling of sex and alpha musk, although Viktor is sure he has a similar stink.

As nice as it is he does need to get up to use the bathroom.

“Jayce get off,” Viktor grumbles when his attempts to squirm free of the alpha’s weight end in failure.

“Huh? Oh, right, sorry,” Jayce says, sleepily rolling off Viktor before sitting up and rolling his shoulders in his own morning stretches. His muscles visible shifting beneath his skin as he works out the tension in them.

Viktor is certainly his heat has finished from the fact he doesn’t want to pull Jayce back down on top of him despite how appealing his alpha looks right now.

“Morning,” Mel says, lighting kissing Viktor’s exposed shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sore,” Viktor says, forcing himself to sit up through his muscles protests.

“I will be fine though,” he adds because he doesn’t want them to worry or suggest that they handle his next heat differently. “It was a very pleasant week for me and worth this strain. Thank you both.”

“You don’t need to thank us for being your mates,” Jayce says, looking at Viktor with the almost hurt expression he gets when Viktor at all implies they could do better than him as their omega.

“Is there anything we can do to help with the pain?” Mel asks, her hand resting on Viktor’s stomach, thumb rubbing along it in an idle pattern.

His first instinct is to say no. To tell them he just needs to get his braces back on and get moving again. But they are technically to blame for how tight his muscles now are and they are offering their help.

Still it is hard to form the actual words to request the help.

“I could do with a message if you wouldn’t mind,” Viktor manages to say.

“We can do that,” Mel says, her hand sliding from Viktor’s stomach and to the base of his spin. Her knuckles pressing in against the tension there.

Viktor hisses as he feels the muscles start to give at it.

“Too much?” Mel asks, her hand drawing away as she sits up behind him. Viktor is sure her expression is as concerned as Jayce’s in in front of him.

“No. No it was fine.” He is used to pain needing to get worse before it eases. Apparently his alphas were not. “It needs to be firm to have an effect. If it is too distressing for you I will be fine without.”

“But it will help?” Jayce asks, sliding down to Viktor’s leg and resting his cheek against Viktor’s bad knee, his hands resting just below it.

“I- yes it will.”

“Okay,” Jayce says, pressing a kiss into Viktor’s knee. “Then let us.”

“Alright,” Viktor says, unable to say no to Jayce’s soft expression, or Mel’s warm hands on his hips while pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Tell us if it does become too much,” Mel instructs. Her thumbs starting to work circles into the top of Viktor’s hips, getting steadily firmer with each rotation.

Jayce starts in on Viktor’s calf. Fingers digging into the muscle and Viktor can only hum in agreement to Mel’s request. He doesn’t trust himself to form words anymore.

His alphas work methodically. Moving up his body with their hands as they relieve some of the tension and stiffness that an active heat has caused him.

Viktor lets himself relax into it. Groaning appreciatively when one of them manages to find and work out a knot of pain.

“We all need a shower,” Viktor says once they are finished. He doesn’t know if he could actually make it to the shower yet on account of how boneless he feels but he also doesn’t know how much longer he will be able to stand the slick and cum well dried on his skin.

“We do,” Jayce says, “and then we can take you home?”

“Yes,” Viktor says after a dragged out moment of pretend consideration. “You may take me home.”

It will be good to be back in his own bed again. Fully rest up before returning to work without the distraction of heat for at least a couple of months.

At least now he has alphas to help him have some moments of clarity even between the peaks of his next heat. Help him continue to make some progress instead of just lying in a nest in lonely misery.

[tennessoui]

Ummmmmm can i please request 5

This was written all on my phone waiting for my train and I’m trying to post it through my phone which tumblr is being a lil bitch about but here is

5. Falling Pregnant After A One Night Stand (3.6k)

(squick: a/b/o dynamics, mpreg)(two tags I never thought I’d write lmao)

Anakin’s working on the couch when he hears the key in the lock of the apartment door, signaling that finally—finally—Obi-Wan’s home from his week-long hastily planned stay at Bail’s place.

Bail and Breha’s place, Anakin reminds himself. Obi-Wan’s mated friends pose no competition to Anakin’s inner alpha, which definitely thinks of Obi-Wan as his omega.

Obi-Wan comes into the main room quietly, putting his bag on one of the barstools and leaning against the counter for a second, head bowed.

When he lets out a sigh and a heavy curse, Anakin can’t stop himself from speaking up, alarmed. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Obi-Wan jolts and turns around to face the couch, clearly startled. “Anakin!” he yelps, one hand flying to his stomach and the other to grip the counter behind him, as if Anakin is an intruder, and not the man he’s been living with for six years. “I thought you’d be at work!”

Anakin fights the urge to flush. The truth is, he’s tried to go into work for the past three days, but Obi-Wan’s absense has kicked his alpha hindbrain into a special kind of panic mode, where he can’t stand to leave the den until the omega returns to it safely.

It’s not like Anakin’s going to say that though, not after five years of pining for the older omega from afar. He’s a pro at this by now.

“Working from home today,” Anakin says. And then so Obi-Wan doesn’t think he’s spent his entire week alone on the couch waiting to be not alone anymore (he has), he lies, “Woke up hungover.”

“On a Thursday?” Obi-Wan says, sounding a bit concerned.

Anakin purses his lips and tries not to pout. He rakes his eyes over the omega, taking in his messed up hair and untrimmed beard and the dark circles that have popped up beneath his eyes. “You didn’t answer, Obi-Wan,” he accuses. “What’s wrong?”

The omega’s scent tinges with distress, which only proves Anakin’s point further. Obi-Wan never lets his scent leak through his blockers, not if he can help it. Anakin’s always made sure to luxuriate in his unbridled scent when he can, one that smells like maple and rain and cinnamon. But to smell it now just makes him feel more worried.

“Are you going into—“ Anakin stutters over the word heat. Obi-Wan’s at least feeling well enough to roll his eyes fondly. The older omega thinks Anakin’s one of those alphas that get wildly uncomfortable talking about an omega’s heat. It’s not true. Anakin’s helped friends through heats both platonically and sexually. Look, he’s run to the corner bodega at two in the morning to get Padmé heating pads to be left outside her door. He’s no stranger to heats.

But the idea of his prim and proper roommate writhing around in his nest, begging for something to fill him up the way he needs—that makes Anakin stutter and blush and trip over his words.

“No,” Obi-Wan says, but there’s something off in his tone, something sour in his scent. Anakin puts his laptop aside—the screen’s gone dark already anyway—and makes to stand, his inner alpha baying with the need to run his hands over the omega, to make sure he’s not bleeding or hurt or injured—

“I—I’m going to unpack and take a shower,” Obi-Wan decides, pushing away from the counter and closer to the couch. Not close enough. But closer. “And then I need to talk to you about something.”

“Are you…” Anakin casts around for the right word to say. Ill. Leaving me. Sick. Sick of me. Done with all of this. Dying.

Obi-Wan pauses and gives him his own sort of once-over. Whatever he finds in either his body language or his scent brings a soft smile to the omega’s face. “I’m fine, dear one. I—I need a shower. I don’t—smell right.”

Anakin blinks after him, hands balling into fists and relaxing as he processes those words. Usually it’s Anakin who wants Obi-Wan to shower off the stench of other alphas after his business trips or stays at his friends’ places. Obi-Wan’s always insisted he smells fine, but he’ll cave if Anakin’s mood gets bad enough.

It’s not something he’s especially proud of, but it’s worth it when Obi-Wan curls up onto the couch beside Anakin and he smells only like the shampoo and soap they share.

Sometimes if he’s tired enough, he’ll even let Anakin scent mark him so that next time he goes out, everyone will automatically assume he’s already in possession of an alpha and not looking for anything.

Sometimes, he even asks for it. Those times are the best.

Anakin tries to sit still while he waits for Obi-Wan to come back, but it’s impossible. He moves to the table, then to the kitchen counter, then back to the couch. Where should he sit, where would be a place he feels safe enough to receive whatever news Obi-Wan’s putting off telling him?

In the omega’s arms in his own bed, is the answer that comes to mind. But can he really ask that of Obi-Wan? They’ve done it before, when Anakin’s mother had died, when Ahsoka had left the city to get a degree abroad, when Anakin feels as though he’s going to shake apart if he doesn’t hold onto his omega and make sure that he at least can’t leave him too.

When Obi-Wan comes out of his room, all flushed from the shower with his hair still damp and messy, wearing a blue sweater Anakin’s pretty sure used to be his and a pair of sweatpants that are definitely currently his, there’s hardly a choice to make. If Obi-Wan wants to wear his scent, Anakin will give it to him.

Silently he takes his hand and leads him to his bedroom, toeing out of his shoes and tugging him into his bed and into his arms.

Obi-Wan goes so easily that it only makes Anakin more worried. His heart cannot take this level of stress and he has to hide his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck and inhales greedily at the pure scent of omega—Obi-Wan omega—his omega.

“Obi-Wan,” he says nonsensically, just to feel the way the omega in his arms shudders at the sensation of his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his neck.

But then Obi-Wan doesn’t stop shaking and Anakin can feel a growing wetness against his shirt. He can’t stop the distressed rumble that comes out of his throat, but he bites his tongue just in time to stop the alpha command to tell him. Obi-Wan wouldn’t like that and Anakin wouldn’t like doing it.

His hands stroke soothingly over the omega’s back as he starts purring from within his chest. An alpha’s purr is supposed to reassure an omega, make them feel safe and protected, but Obi-Wan doesn’t seem to realize this because he doesn’t stop crying.

“Talk to me,” Anakin murmurs nosing at the short hairs behind Obi-Wan’s ears. “Baby. Obi. Omega. What is wrong? What can I do?”

Obi-Wan wipes his eyes dry on Anakin’s shirt and looks up at him with a heartbroken but strangely resigned expression. Like he already knows what Anakin’s going to do, and he thinks nothing he says will change anything.

As if.

When Obi-Wan went on a two month long business trip three years ago, Anakin grew out a beard and it only took one look from the omega upon his return before Anakin was shaving it off. The point is, Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to speak half the time for Anakin to agree. He’s just that in love. It’s pathetic. He can’t remember who he was before it.

“I’m a mess, I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan finally gets out, retracting one of his hands from the tight grip he has on Anakin’s shirt to rub at his eye. “I told myself I wasn’t going to be like this, but. I don’t—it’s—“

“Hey, hey,” Anakin soothes, leaning back a bit so he can knock their foreheads together. Packmates do that all the time. “It’s okay.”

Obi-Wan nods slowly, and his scent expands with the pleasant notes of a comforted, protected omega.

“Do you remember…when I went to Seattle at the end of August for that conference?” he starts slowly.

Anakin hums in acknowledgement. He’d wanted to go with Obi-Wan, instincts demanding that the other side of the country was too far for the omega to travel alone, but he’d not been able to get time off of work.

His heart drops into his stomach at the idea that somehow maybe Obi-Wan met someone there during his four-day trip, and he’s in love with them and is trying to find a way to tell Anakin he’s moving.

Would it be pathetic if Anakin followed him? Would Obi-Wan’s new alpha allow Anakin to live with Obi-Wan still? Would Obi-Wan’s alpha be amenable to telling Anakin how he made Obi-Wan fall in love with him in a matter of days when Anakin’s been trying to get the man to love him romantically for six years?

Anakin’s heart rate is up, but it’s nothing compared to the staccato beat of Obi-Wan’s. He tries to send out more calming pheromones, but he can’t even find them for himself.

This is it. He’s about to lose Obi-Wan. The alpha inside of him whimpers, and it takes all of his willpower not to crush his omega tighter to his chest.

No. Not his.

“I met a man there, just at the hotel,” Obi-Wan says. It would have been kinder if he’d just stabbed Anakin with the kitchen knife. There’s no relief to be found in this slow death. Because—because surely, Anakin will die without Obi-Wan. Not physically, of course. He’s not one of those alphas who doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

Actually, it’s Anakin that cooks most of the time for both of them. And Anakin will do the shopping, will keep an eye on the amount of cleaning supplies they have, how much toilet paper, how many garbage bags.

But what would be the point of cooking anything if Obi-Wan isn’t there to taste it and shower him with praise? What’s the point of cleaning the apartment if Obi-Wan isn’t there to tuck himself into his arms on the couch and thank him for the work? What’s the point of anything if he’s doing it without Obi-Wan?

“Anakin, I—“ Obi-Wan stutters and falls silent. Anakin braces himself for the end he should have seen coming. “I’m pregnant.”

White noise. Anakin doesn't even think he’s breathing. Obi-Wan is pregnant. Obi-Wan…had a one-night stand in a city 2,400 miles away from Anakin, and he’s pregnant. Someone touched Obi-Wan, someone made Obi-Wan come, someone got Obi-Wan pregnant, and maybe…maybe there’s a chance they’ll get to keep Obi-Wan too.

The alpha in his chest howls at the thought. The idea that—that someone else will have a better claim on Obi-Wan’s heart. What’s six years of living together compared to a child?

Except Obi-Wan presses further into his chest, with a shaky whine. The omega is here now, not with any other alpha, not in any other city. He’s in Anakin’s bed, in Anakin’s arms.

Anakin opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it, how to speak. He needs to know so much more. He needs to know what Obi-Wan is going to do, if he’s in contact with the father, if he’s planning to move, if he’s planning to raise the—

As if he can hear his thoughts, Obi-Wan starts talking again, very fast as if he’s afraid Anakin’s going to kick him out in a few minutes and he needs to get the whole story out before he does.

“I’m keeping it. Them. I—I’m so old now—“ he’s barely 38– “I’m afraid this could be my only chance at…at a family.”

Anakin closes his eyes and hides his face in the still-damp strands of Obi-Wan’s hair. He doesn’t want Obi-Wan to see how devastated he is at this response. Anakin’s family is Obi-Wan. He’d thought…he’d wanted….

“I understand if you want to move out before the lease ends,” Obi-Wan mumbles, but his hands clench tightly around Anakin’s back. “I know…a baby…another alpha’s baby…you shouldn’t have to take care of them. I know it’s not what you signed up for, I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t hold it against you.” His voice gets smaller and smaller until Anakin has to strain to hear him. “I can do this alone.”

He sounds as if he’s telling himself as much as he’s telling Anakin. But Anakin can’t even focus on that because his entire attention is caught by everything else Obi-Wan’s just said. Because it sounds…it sounds as if Obi-Wan is planning to stay in the city. In the apartment. Without the sire.

Alone.

As if Anakin would ever let Obi-Wan be alone, given the choice. As if Anakin would ever leave Obi-Wan to struggle through any difficulty without him.

Obi-Wan presses impossibly closer to him. “Say something,” he demands, running his nose up and down Anakin’s neck, over his scent glands, as if he expects Anakin to be able to form whole, coherent sentences when he’s doing that with his mouth.

The pregnancy must be messing with Obi-Wan’s instincts and emotions, Anakin realizes distantly. His body must know he’s not mated, that he’s about to be a visibly pregnant, unmated Omega in a dangerous city. No wonder he’s trying to cover himself so completely in Anakin’s scent. He has to wonder if Obi-Wan even understands what he’s doing. He’s never been one to try and he in touch with his Omegan side.

“Alpha,” Obi-Wan pleads, and Anakin has a second realization that it’s been ages since he’s said something. The room fills with the scent of distressed, in pain omega.

Anakin lets out an involuntary purr and tightens his hold on Obi-Wan’s body. It would be nice to look him in the eyes, but he thinks they both need as little distance between themselves as possible. “You’re going to make a great parent,” he soothes, nuzzling along Obi-Wan’s hairline. “And I’m not going to leave you unless you want me to.”

Obi-Wan stills completely as if shocked to his bones, and then he relaxes bonelessly into Anakin’s arms. This time, Anakin feels the tears as soon as they start and he goes about stroking up and down Obi-Wan’s spine again.

“I was so afraid,” Obi-Wan admits between sobs. Anakin thinks to himself privately that he definitely knows how that feels, but one of them shouldn’t be crying. “I didn’t know how to tell you—I didn’t want you to hate me for making such a stupid mistake—“

There’s nothing Obi-Wan could do to make him hate him. Sure, Anakin’s absolutely filled with hatred for whoever caught Obi-Wan’s eye on that business trip, but none of those emotions bleed over into what he feels for Obi-Wan. Not when his love is too strong and entrenched.

“Bail said you’d understand but I’m just—a mess, I don’t know what I’m doing half the time and these goddamn hormones are making me feel out of control—“ Obi-Wan continues. The fact that Bail fucking Organa found out about Obi-Wan’s pregnancy before Anakin did will drive him crazy if he lets it, so he puts that aside for now and focuses on comforting his omega.

“We’ll figure it out,” Anakin says, scenting Obi-Wan back. “It’ll be alright.”

————

A few hours later, Obi-Wan awakens from the nap he’s fallen into with a start. Anakin’s gotten no sleep, too busy drawing nonsense lines on Obi-Wan’s back and staring at the ceiling, thinking about the future. About what’s going to happen to them, around them.

No matter how much he hates the sire of the child in Obi-Wan, he already feels attached to the baby. It’s part of Obi-Wan. Maybe they’ll have his hair color or his eyes. Maybe they’ll have his compassion, his wit. Maybe they’ll let Anakin teach them how to play soccer or swim or cook.

The possibilities are endless and all of them involve Obi-Wan falling in love with him because of how amazing of a father he is to his child.

It’s not the most pressing thought in his mind, but he has to admit at least to himself that it’s there. That he’s just as in love with Obi-Wan as he was when he woke up in the morning. Now he just has another part of Obi-Wan to love: his child.

Maybe their child.

“I need to tell him,” Obi-Wan mumbles from his spot laying across Anakin’s chest. “I don’t—I don’t particularly want his involvement or, or money, but he should know. He should have the option to be in his child’s life.”

The part of Anakin who has just spent the past three hours getting used to the idea of raising Obi-Wan’s child as if he’s his own bristles at the idea of the sire being involved at all.

“Do you have his number?” Anakin asks reluctantly. He can’t imagine getting to sleep with someone as gorgeous as Obi-Wan and not trying to give him a means of keeping in contact.

But Obi-Wan shakes his head.

“His address?”

Another negative. “I…know his name and where he works.”

Anakin bares his teeth at the ceiling. “And?”

Obi-wan sounds more than a bit embarrassed. “Ah. He was the bartender at the hotel. And his name tag said Set.”

“You went to a medical conference full of alpha surgeons and researchers and you…slept with the bartender,” Anakin says blankly, before he can stop himself.

Obi-Wan huffs. It’s the most Obi-Wan response he’s given since he got home from Bail’s. “Sorry my one-night stands don’t meet your standards.”

Anakin hums. The truth is the only person who will ever meet his standards as a romantic partner for Obi-Wan is Anakin. “So what do you want to do? Call the hotel and ask for Set?”

Which, by the way, is the most pretentiously Seattle name he’s ever heard of. Set’s given name is probably, like, David and he just wanted to sound cool and grunge.

“I can’t just—this isn’t something I can say over the phone, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. He falls silent.

“It’s mid-November,” Anakin points out. “Neither of us are hurting for money, but plane tickets are going to be astronomical until January at least. If they’re available at all.”

There’d be shitty seats available, of course, but Anakin’s not going to let his pregnant omega cram himself into an uncomfortable, smelly seat for eight hours.

“You don’t—I don’t expect you to come with me,” Obi-Wan mumbles into Anakin’s collarbone.

Anakin just manages to bite back a scoff and the urge to point out that last time Obi-Wan went off to Seattle without him, he got pregnant. Who knows what would happen if he does it again?

“Well, I’m gonna,” he says firmly. “But I think we should drive. It’ll take longer, but I’d feel much better about what you’re exposed to, not to mention how much more comfortable my car is than a coach seat. We can share a motel bed to cut costs, and—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Obi-Wan picks himself up off his chest to stare at him quizzically. “What if your job won’t let you take the days off? They didn’t even let you leave for the original Seattle trip and that was only a few days. We’re talking weeks here, Ani.”

Anakin sets his face into a scowl. He’s worked at the same finance firm since moving to New York, but if they won’t let him take time off for this, for Obi-Wan, he’ll quit. Simple as that. “Then I’ll go anyway and they can fire me.”

Predictably, Obi-Wan has several protests. Anakin will hear none of them. If he is fired, if he can’t find another finance job in the city that makes the same amount of money, then they’ll move out to somewhere else. He’s heard good things about Denver. And if Obi-Wan doesn’t want to move that far, maybe they can move upstate. It’ll be easier to raise a kid outside of the city anyway.

He’s not dumb enough to tell Obi-Wan this, knowing it makes him sound literally insane, but he is just stupid enough to cut Obi-Wan off and say, “you’re the most important person in my life, Obi-Wan. You….you both are.”

Hesitantly he moves his hand down to rest it gently over the slightest swell of Obi-Wan’s tummy. The omega’s breath catches in his throat, but he lets him touch.

“I’m going to be there with you, every step of the way if you’ll have me,” Anakin adds, stroking his thumb over the impossibly soft skin. Pregnant. Obi-Wan is pregnant.

It’ll take a few days more to get completely used to that idea, that’s for sure.

Obi-Wan studies his face with eyes still red-rimmed and puffy from all that crying a few hours ago. Slowly he raises his own hand to Anakin’s neck and rubs up and down his scent gland with something almost like longing in his expression. They’re so close together. Anakin would let him have anything—everything.

Everything.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan agrees with an air of strained incredulity in his voice , placing his other hand over Anakin’s on top of his abdomen. “Yes. Let’s drive to Seattle so I can tell my one-night stand that I’m carrying his child.”

Anakin nods and adds privately in his head, And so I can tell him that that kid’s gonna be mine in everything but blood and he better stay on his side of the goddamn country.

He’s not losing his family to some stupid Seattle alpha.

[msmischief101]

♞Pairing: Steo ♞Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken ♞Warnings: - ♞Words: 2149 ♞Dialogue Prompt: “It's cold.” - "C'mere. My arms are warmer." (for @mxhzrd) ♞Mini Fic Roulette: 20/∞ / AO3 Link

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Stiles isn’t sure how the fuck he ended up in a cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere during a snowstorm. This just sucks. That’s all he knows. Actually, no. That’s not true. Stiles knows exactly how he ended up here. This is all Corey’s fault. Corey and his stupid puppy eyes, materializing on his doorstep and asking him to join the pack on a trip they’ve planned together months ago. Stiles wraps his blanket tighter around him and huffs out a breath. He shouldn’t have agreed to this, but it’s physically impossible to say no to Corey. Stiles had lost the second Corey put his mind to this. Even Theo struggled to say no to him. His track record might be a little better, but seeing that this trip happened in the first place shows that Corey is the real puppet master of this pack. If the kid really wants something, he usually gets it — and now he’s here, stuck in the middle of a forest during a snowstorm. The weather forecast didn’t sound promising.

Stiles curls into a ball, resisting the urge to scream. They’re supposed to go back home tomorrow. Being cooped up with the chimeras and Theo for 48 hours is one thing, he could’ve managed that — especially since Theo and Tracy barely interacted the whole time. It hurts she’s still in his life, but they’re a pack. Stiles was the one who chose to leave. He was the one who chose to walk away; something he regrets to this day. Yes, he was tired of fighting with Theo over so many things, but he’s never been tired of Theo, never will be… and he sure as fuck is never going to stop loving this asshole.

Rolling onto his stomach, Stiles presses his face into the pillow. He never should’ve come here. He never should have come here. But he didn’t listen. He let himself be wrapped up in Corey’s innocence, acting like he was already over Theo, too proud to admit that being around this stupid chimera would do him more harm than good. He groans into the pillow and squeezes his eyes shut. If he’s stuck in this forest with the chimera pack, Stiles will hurl himself off the cliff into the frozen lake. He can’t do it. He cannot survive this.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Stiles nearly jumps off the couch. The blanket slips off him, exposing him to the brutal cold that came along with the snowstorm and the power outage. A problem they could’ve solved by getting wood for the fireplace, but Tracy had merely scoffed and reminded him that they’re not living in the 18th century — and since Theo and Tracy are at the very least fucking, everyone went along with it.

But now Theo studies the fireplace with something akin to regret on his expression before his gaze snaps back to Stiles. “Grab your blanket, you’re coming with me.”

“No.” The word is out before he can think better of it. Theo has never been particularly well adjusted to resistance, one of the many topics they used to fight over, but Stiles is stubborn. He already declined to sleep upstairs with the rest of the pack once. He’s fine on this couch. Is it cold? Yes. But not cold enough to kill him. He just needs to fall asleep.

Theo purses his lips. “I can hear you freezing your ass off from upstairs.” And it has to be really cold because even Theo, who usually sleeps in just his boxers, is wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Then how about you just don’t listen to what I’m doing down here?” Stiles pulls the blanket back around him.

Theo’s left brow shoots up. “Were you doing something I shouldn’t have heard?”

That all too familiar tone sets Stiles’ teeth on edge. Theo wasn’t a terrible boyfriend by any means. The issue was that he sometimes couldn’t differentiate between being an alpha and being his boyfriend. It caused a lot of fights; until one day Stiles decided that enough is enough. He walked out and somehow managed to stay away. “Oh, piss off.”

A short silence follows his words. Theo takes a breath and smiles. “We promised Corey not to fight.” Technically, they promised Corey to try and get along. Well, at least that’s what Stiles agreed to. Maybe Corey used different rules for Theo. It wouldn’t be surprising because no matter how low Stiles’ tolerance for frustration is, Theo’s is basically non-existent.

Stiles lets out a breath. “Then go back upstairs.”

“Just…” Theo runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. Under different circumstances, he would’ve already grabbed Stiles and carried him upstairs. But he doesn’t. He hasn’t even stepped closer. “Stiles, please, come upstairs with me.” Please is not a word Theo uses lightly.

Despite himself, Stiles gets to his feet and cradles his blanket as well as his pillow to his chest. He shouldn’t cave this easily, and he definitely shouldn’t follow Theo up the stairs. But resisting the urge to be close to Theo isn’t exactly easy. Lydia is going to put him through the wringer when she learns about this… but who is going to tell her? This can be his secret. It’s just this one night. He has his own blanket, his own pillow, and it’s not like he can’t keep his hands to himself while sleeping next to the guy he still loves more than anything.

Fuck.

What the hell is he doing?

Theo pushes the door to his room open, allowing Stiles to slip past him. The bed is empty, and there is only Theo’s gym bag on the ground next to the dresser. It’s just his shoes and clothes on the chair. It’s just him alone in this room. Stiles briefly glances at the other boy then tiptoes to the bed. The door shuts with a quiet click, causing a too familiar spark of nerves to ignite. This isn’t unlike the night they got together. They used to meet in secret, feeding their feelings to the shadows and hoping they stayed quiet. For a while, it worked. They could fall in love without the judging gazes of those around them. Stiles would have loved to have a few weeks more, to find a better way to tell Scott and Lydia, but their feelings weren’t the only thing hiding in the shadows. Protecting Theo was more important than his secrecy. They killed for each other. They’ve almost been killed trying to keep each other safe.

Eight months later, being around Theo is one of the most painful things Stiles has ever experienced. He wonders where they went wrong and if they’ve ever been right, to begin with.

Stiles tosses his blanket and pillow on the bed then crawls over the mattress himself and wraps himself into his blanket again, facing the wall. It’s almost as cold up here, but perhaps it’s not just the storm raging outside that makes it impossible for him to get warm. The mattress dips when Theo climbs into bed after him.

“Thanks,” Theo whispers.

For a moment, Stiles considers not to say anything, but they both know that he doesn’t fall asleep that quickly. “Thanks?”

“For letting me sleep on this side.”

As if Stiles could forget about the nightmares following Theo whenever he slept between Stiles and the wall. Some he told him about, his sister haunting him, waking up in the morgue, others — Stiles is sure — he kept to himself. Maybe Theo wasn’t ready to share them. Maybe he could tell Stiles had had a bad night as well. Perhaps that’s what went wrong. They started dating too early, fell too hard, and leaned on each other despite both of them being fractured to the bone. “Go to sleep.” Stiles pushes a hand under his pillow and closes his eyes, squeezing them shut tightly as if that would somehow help him fall asleep faster.

Theo moves behind him, but he certainly doesn’t sleep. Stiles can feel his eyes on him. Like this, he will never catch a second of sleep.

Stiles pulls his legs up, curling into a ball, knuckles white around his blanket. “Theo, please.” Even back when they were dating, Stiles always woke up to Theo staring at him. There’s something about it that makes his hairs stand on end.

“What?”

“You know what.”

A quiet chuckle echoes through the room. “I haven’t seen you in eight months. Don’t blame me for looking at you.”

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek and wraps his blanket even tighter around him. He’s not going to respond. He’s not going to respond to this. Nope.

“You good?” Theo’s voice is so fucking soft, way too familiar. Lying here, next to him, it’s like no time has passed at all. They’ve fallen asleep like that so many times, Stiles with his back to Theo, mad about something stupid he did or said, and Theo trying to coax him into his arms or at the very least to forgive him.

Stiles huffs out a breath. “It’s cold.”

“C’mere.” Theo shuffles closer. “My arms are warmer.”

Narrowing his eyes, Stiles turns around to face Theo. Maybe it’s better if he can keep an eye on him tonight. “Can you not?” Seriously. This is not helping. He already knows he will have to start from the very beginning again once he’s home. Theo is like a fucking drug to him. He’s been eight months sober, and this withdrawal is going to hurt so much more. “Just shut up and sleep.”

Theo sighs. “I missed you.”

“Don’t do this.” Stiles regrets coming up here. He regrets coming here in the first place. It’s the worst decision he’s ever made. He should’ve stayed away, but he’s a fucking moron thinking that he can make it. “I can’t do this again.”

Theo draws his eyebrows together. “Can’t date me again?”

It would be so easy if that were the truth. Stiles wouldn’t struggle so much if he couldn’t date Theo a second time. But that’s never been the issue. He would give Theo second and third even fourth chances if not for the fact that he’s not going to get through breaking up with Theo a second time around. The first one almost destroyed him. “I can’t lose you again, and don’t even try to promise me I won’t.” Because this is impossible. The lives their living is too dangerous. They’re both too broken.

“Fine.” Theo cups Stiles’ cheek. He probably knows he’s won him back the second Stiles arrived at this stupid little cabin. The smile lighting up his face is almost painful to look at. “But I can promise that I want you. All of you.” He moves closer, hand moving from his cheek to the nape of his neck. “I can’t promise that it’s gonna be easy because it’s us. It’s gonna be hard. We’ll probably have to work on us every single fucking day.” Falling into Theo again is too easy, so when he presses their foreheads together, Stiles curls his fingers into Theo’s shirt and closes his eyes. “But it’s worth it. Because it’s you. Because it’s us. Because my world isn’t right without you.”

Stiles feels like screaming, but now for a completely different reason. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm his heart hammering against his chest. “I hate you so much.”

Chuckling, Theo kisses the tip of his nose. “No, you don’t.”

“I wish I could,” Stiles whispers, yet he pushes closer, unable to stay away from Theo any longer. He needs his warmth, craves it even, and now that he’s right there, Stiles doesn’t have the energy to fight this any longer. “But I love you so much more than I probably should.” He swallows, kissing the corner of Theo’s mouth. “You’re the best and worst fucking thing that’s ever happened to me.” It’s nothing new, nothing groundbreaking, something he has told Theo a million times already. The affirmation, the familiar truth in these words makes him feel better.

Theo chuckles, brushing their noses together. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Nodding slowly, Stiles wraps his arm around Theo. “Lydia is gonna turn you into a fur coat if this goes south again.” His fingers tighten in the back of his shirt, holding onto him as best as he can. There’s no fight left in him, lying here in Theo’s arm, feeling his warm breath on his face and his heart against his chest and his body so close to him, it feels like coming home after being away for far too long.

“I love you,” Theo whispers, rolling them around until Stiles can use him as a pillow, “and as far as I’m concerned, I’ll never let you go ever again.”

Stiles closes his eyes. “That makes two of us.”

[katsukikitten]

WARNINGS: 18+ DUB CON/ NON CON? WEREWOLF BAKUGOU, THIS IS PURE FILTH JUST PURE SMUT 

You were never the best at running, especially not through the woods. So it is no surprise your heel snaps off causing you to trip over a small log. Your pelvis bone connects with the thick trunk, brushing your hip as your dress threatens to expose your underwear. 

A howl is heard in the distance paired with something moving through the brush at an ungodly speed, gaining on you much faster than you thought. 

"Fuck." You hiss to yourself, panting as branches seem to reach out. Their sharp, splintered claws grabbing at you and only catching your body con dress. Tearing it piece by piece, you are unsure if your faux bunny ears are still atop your head.It was unfathomable how wrong tonight had gone and how quickly. 

But then again it was Halloween and a full moon at that. They say the full moon has the power to make people act crazy and especially so on a blue moon.  Which made your panicked mind wander to the rumors about this town and what happens every blue moon. There were whispers of the older families having dark secrets. Fairy tales of beasts and mating but a second full moon in a month was so rare those murmurs and scoffs were supposed to be just that, rumors, stories. 

Not actual werewolves who couldn't control their urges during this magical event. The blue moon either filling them with unchecked rage or undeniable lust should they not take the necessary precautions. Although no one would say what exactly those precautions are. 

Your first hint about the rumors being true should have been the local news station. You thought it a Halloween prank when they advised women ages of 20 to 30 to remain indoors for tonight, to lock their windows and doors. To adorn their throats in silver to protect them from unwanted bonding. You had rolled your eyes as you got ready for your daily college classes, jumping into your black skinny jeans and blood red sweater.  

Your second hint should have been the absence of your good friend Kirishima. He always walked you to your English class since his history course was in the same building but this morning he was a no show. He didn't even respond to your texts last night asking if he wanted to go to a Halloween party with you. 

Your final hint should have been when the normally aloof, irritable and "untouchable of the big three" lab partner you had for biology growled in your direction. This would be the first thing he had said all semester.

"Don't go out tonight, got it extra?" His voice is clipped and he is acting strange, his left hand gripping onto his right forearm so harshly a bruise was beginning to bloom. You chalk it up to nerves for the upcoming exams. 

"Oh is someone gonna bite me like the news anchor said?" You giggle, turning your focus back on your work only for the professor to cancel class early. You pack your things as Bakugou sits rigid, still. He fixes you a harsh glare before he stands, pulling the strap of your purse causing you to become a little off balance.  His eyes dance over your frame, over your exposed neck but you do not notice, barely see his canines elongate as he snarls. 

"You'll wish that's all that they did." 

Looking back you wish you had noticed it before, then maybe you wouldn't be in the situation you were in now.

You burst through the trees and find yourself in a clearing. Here you would a sitting duck to whatever the hell was chasing you. Still not believing your eyes and you crossed paths with a giant wolf. Fur golden in the moon light and eyes a haunting, gut wrenching familiar red. It wasn't too long after that did it give chase. 

The howl behind you is too close for comfort as you barely have time to jump into a patch of briars and thick prickly bushes that sit on the edge of a creek. By some odd instinct you grab onto the ice cold mud and smear your arms and part of your neck with it, clenching your jaw so your teeth do not chatter. 

Suddenly a large beast bursts into the clearing, wet nose sniffing at the air and ground before it shifts in the clearing under the moonlight. It is a haunting sight. Bones snap and grind as features twist into grotesque angels until it finally forms into that handsome familiar face. The ash blonde fur retreats until it is only on the top of his head, faded beneath while the top looks finger brushed and wild. He is shirtless and his pants are torn from the calf down, the only beastly feature he keeps is the glow of his blood red eyes. You swallow, biting your lip to stop from shaking; this is not the Bakugou you knew. Not that you knew him that well in the first place but there was some power in having a crush. You had learned his mannerisms in the first year here at University, somehow always in a class with him, with one of the three legendary "heartthrobs" of the school. He was as hot headed as the rumors said and he was just as handsome if not more so. Itching for a fight and yet oddly quiet when in close proximity to you. An action you took to mean he either hated you or didn't even know you existed. 

So it's safe to say you're unfamiliar with this manic, wolfish grin. 

Feral incarnate. 

He sniffs the air. 

"Where are you little ooooonnne?" He calls cruelly, "I can smell you." 

His body goes through the motions of tensing and relaxing, another howl breaks through the eerie silence but this time much farther away. Bakugou's ears perk, his grin twisting in such a way it screams malice, unbridled rage and yet excitement. 

"You must be in your mortal heat. Guess I'm not the only one who can smell it. Didn't I tell you not to go out tonight?" His voice is dark, haunting as the wind catches down from you, carrying your scent away from him. 

"I knew your dumb ass would ignore me, I took a precaution to that and yet you didn't even bring your fucking purse?!" 

Your purse? 

Is that how that red cloth and weird silver dollar got into the bottom of your purse? 

Bakugou shifts his weight, giving his back to you as he prepares for something coming that you cannot hear. In the meantime you allow your eyes to study his physic, following his scarred back, broad shoulders all the way down to his deadly hands. One of his palms is burned in the shape of a perfect circle, you swallow thickly. The sound causes his ears to twitch and look over his shoulder, making eye contact with you through the brush. 

But he does not have time to react as a black furred beast with glowing ruby eyes jumps into the clearing. Sniffing the air wildly before baring his teeth towards Bakugou. The beast huffs and growls before finally shifting into his human form, a cold sweat settles in your bones. 

"Where the fuck is she?" You have never heard your friend use a tone so dark as Eijiro continues to pace, keeping his eyes glued to Bakugou. 

"Fuck off Kirishima, shes mine." 

"I don't see a bonding mark on her yet." Its more a feral growl than anything, "You said you didn't waste your time on mortals." 

"I fucking changed my mind. And you know why, her smell is…" He inhales deeply, testing to see how much of you can be sensed. The most he can tell is that you're close by but he cannot pinpoint you, he fights to keep his eyes from falling over his shoulders to see you. 

He's dying to know how you masked your scent without with an Alpha's pheromones or a silver piece. But that would have to wait, at least if he wanted to ensure it was his seed that stuffed you. He bites his lip, the thought sends a shiver down his spine. First he had to deal with Kirishima then he could take his time making you his. 

"Well you know how it is don't ya? Didn't know you were such a pervert, Eiji. Is that why you walked her to class? Hoping she'd make you her boyfriend or some sappy shit?" Bakugou taunts, head tilting in mock question, "Guess you can't hold back anymore can you? Dreaming about giving her your knot?" 

Kirishima bares his teeth, fighting the urge to buck at another Alpha, especially one he knows he will have to fight with full force. He opens his sharp toothed mouth to retort but yet another beast finds it's way into the clearing coming from the opposite of Kirishima but to the right of Bakugou. 

The beast looks wild, heterochromatic eyes glisten beneath the full moon as white and red fur clash all the way down his spine. A collar around his throat catches the light as a broken chain drags across the ground, there are shackles around his wrists and ankles as well. Bakugou smirks, adrenaline fueling his excitement over what is about to be a damn good fight. 

"You watchin little slut? Look at what your scent can do." He changes his stance into that of a fight, "You've got two normally non aggressive Aplahs ready to get their asses handed to them and for fucking what?"

The three of them shift their eyes and bodies this way and that before Bakugou licks his teeth.  

"God I can't wait to bury my face in that soaked pussy." He lunges, transforming mid leap into a hauntingly powerful wolf. His teeth are exposed, lip curled up in a snarl as his targets Kirishima first.  Kirishima barely shape shifts in time, pearly white teeth sink deep into his shoulder before gnashing at his throat. Deafening growls and yowling surround the clearing. Kirishima attempts to kick Bakugou off of him as they tumble closer to who you assume is Todoroki who bares his teeth. He launches himself at the other Alphas. His teeth find purchase in Bakugou's shoulder, blood staining white and blonde fur a like. There is no yelp or howl, just a stomach churning growl before Bakugou turns his attention towards the two toned wolf. Snapping his jaw as he attempts to get a grip on the chained wolf who dodges. Bakugou's teeth gleam with dripping crimson, a snarl of warning before he propels himself towards Todoroki. Sharp teeth bite at two toned fur as Shoto bares his teeth, growling, snapping his jaw at his opponent. Kirishima begins to get to his feet, limping as he avoid putting weight onto one of his front legs, crimson drips down onto the chilled dirt. He keeps his ruby red eyes on the two dancing wolves.

Bakugou strikes faster than Todoroki can dodge, and angry teeth clamp down at Todoroki's throat. The collar snaps from the force before Bakugou sinks his fangs deep into Todoroki's throat. 

An ear ringing yelp is heard as blood pools into Bakugou's stained muzzle, white fur marred in crimson as Todoroki begins to sway. As the hot head's jaw is locked onto tender flesh, Kirishima attacks. Biting at the nape of Bakugou's neck and yanking him from Todoroki with force, tossing him with ease. The light colored wolf flies into trees snapping the thick oaks as if they were twigs. Buying some time for the two injured wolves, any other alpha would have seen this as a win, knowing the two from rival families would retreat to lick their wounds. 

But Bakugou was no normal alpha. This gut clenching fight taught you as much. Todoroki struggles to keep consciousness, his throat dripping an insane amount of blood. He falls to his side huffing almost wheezing before he shifts back into human form, shackles shrinking to readjust to his wrists. Kirishima whines nudging at the unconscious, possibly dead man. All the while crimson red eyes peer through the unsettled dust before soaring through the air, landing on top of the black wolf. Pinning his back onto the ground as dark paws claw at bared teeth. Trying desperately to keep him at bay but with one fucked front paw it is a futile attempt. Quickly Bakugou overpowers him, sinking his teeth too deep into his friend's throat and keeping his muzzle there until the whining and yelping stops. Until he too shifts back to his human form. 

You fight to keep your own whimpering in, still hidden in the brush while you hoped, prayed that he somehow got disoriented. That he forgot where you were. 

His head snaps towards you, mouth dripping saliva and thick red blood. His eyes glow as his stalks closer. He stops just before the underbrush shifting back into that devilishly handsome face. He is soaked in blood, scratches line his face and chest. He wipes at his mouth but not once does his fist wipe away the cocky smile he holds. 

He scares you but what scares you most is how your body is reacting to such a gruesome sight. A muscular man dripping in sticky red, droplets tracing the outline of his abs and a smile of triumph as two people lie wounded, possibly dead behind him. It made your pussy throb, the strength, the raw need and want to win and for what? For you, for your essence and the promise of a futile womb. 

He can smell your fear as he yanks you from the bushes and thorns. 

"Don't worry, it's not my blood." He grins, pulling you closer to him as you try to push away. Just like you're trying to push away these odd feelings that swirl in your chest, in your stomach; of a weird pride and arousal. It was of no use, like pushing dead weight up a forty five degree hill, this too was a losing battle.  

"K..kirishima." Your eyes are glued to his unmoving body, causing a deep rage to form in Bakugou's chest. He grips your chin forcing you to look at him his other hand goes straight for your sex, cupping the underwear allowing his fingers to swipe over the damp fabric. 

"Don't you ever say his fucking name while you're wet for me. Got it?" His fingers are causing divots in your cheeks as you whimper from his contrasting touch. Harsh grip, soft strokes. As if reading your mind he takes a deep breath, not meaning to inhale so much of you.  

"They ain't dead, you're worth the trouble. But not that much trouble. Now focus on me." He let's go of you, drinking you in smirking when he sees your costume. Or what's left of it anyway. 

Thick irony that you would choose to be a bunny of all nights. He fingers the fake ears with earnest. 

"Fitting." He purrs before taking both of his hands to the front collar of your dress, ripping the fabric from your torso. He growls audibly mumbling to himself "Much better." As you stand with your tits exposed, your lacy underwear catching his attention beneath fishnet tights. He bites his bottom lip, pulling you to him as he buries his face into your tits. Nipping sucking and biting as he eases your buckling legs towards the ground. 

"Fuuuuck." He groans, pressing his cheek harshly against yours, trying to scent you as best he can without claiming you fully.  It's hard, fuck is it hard. It always has been, since his first class with you.  

You weren't a beta nor an omega. Hell you were of no wolf relation and yet you reeked, oozed of pheromones that drove him and apparently the others mad. He had tried to protect you, he really had, scenting a piece of an old t-shirt and even burning himself on silver. 

He wanted you, he needed you, his cock ached for you. Weeping now at your arousal making his canines ache with an even greater pain. 

But you were fucking mortal and he was betrothed. Technically all three of the aplahs in that clearing were betrothed to omegas.  It was evident your smell seduced them as well. 

He brings himself to your shoulder, biting hard enough to draw blood, claws, stuck halfway between human and wolf, rake down your back and ass making ribbons of the flesh. Still you moan and he occasionally swallows those whole as he kisses you. Letting you taste copper as his tongue placates yours, he subconsciously secretes soothing and lustful hormones and they are strong enough to make even you high. His hand finds your nipple and when you arch into him he loses his shit. Breaking the kiss to sniff you, nosing and biting until he finds that sweet spot. He opens his mouth, salivating at the thought as his teeth and cock beg for relief. He freezes, squeezing you to him for a moment. The action causes your ribs to creak in protest and yet you feel warm, safe. 

His mouth hovers over your pulse point, the salty sweet taste of you, breaths away from the exact spot he would need to sink his aching teeth into to make you his.  

In a quick motion and a test of will he shoves you onto your back, ripping at the fabric between your thighs after he forces your legs open. You do nothing to stop him, not that could. 

Not that you would.  

He slips his tongue between your folds and licks up, swirling the wet muscle when you buck against him. He hooks his arms around your legs gaining control over your hips and eats. 

See Bakugou is a glutton and he will not stop until he is satisfied. It would be a gift and a curse for you.  

He works his mouth against you thoroughly as the coil in your stomach snaps over and over again. Your hand fisting his hair as you cry out in hoarse gasps, legs shaking around his head, thighs squeezing his skull as he coaxes another high from you. 

Your entire body is shaking, worn out already from however long he sucked, nipped and lapped at your core. Finally he seemed to come up for air but only to watch your sex convulse. He looks up to you causing your heart to skip a beat. His hair is that much more wild, his intense gaze glowing red in the low light and his face glistens with your slick.

"Fuck!" You cry out, letting your head fall back into the ground. 

"What's wrong bunny? Can't handle a little head?" He shoves two fingers deeply into you making a come here motion. You ride another body quaking high as he tries to stretch you to accommodate him. His breathing becomes frantic, as he chases a smell you're emitting. Thrusting harshly into you as his other hand abusesyour clit until that deliciously addicting smell he's chasing crescendos. Your scream echoes in the woods as clear liquid shoots over Bakugou's forearms, all the while you held fluttering eye contact, practically melting in his hands. His fangs grow and he cannot hold himself back any longer. He shoves his pants all the way down, even off of his ankles as he sinks his lengthy girth into you in a snap of his hips. A mixture of pain and pleasure shoot through you like a live wire as you begin to mewl, needing him to move. 

"More, more." You whine, tears prick your eyes as he smiles a deadly smirk. 

"You're such a talkative cock sleeve. You want my knot that bad? Then take it." He thrusts into you setting a deep harsh pace. Alternating between quick succession and slow deep throats. Biting at the skin of your chest and shoulders, torturing you in such a way.  

Punishing you for being mortal. 

"Why?" It's a guttural growl as your mind is lost on another plane, "Why do you have to be mortal?" 

He emphasizes each word with a thrust of his hips earning him a lovely raspy moan from you.

"I want to...to fucking mark you.  Make you mine. The thought of any other alpha or even fucking human touching you…." His thoughts have him chasing two very dangerous highs, snapping his hips so he comes closer to your throat.  

"Please...please Bakugou." You whimpering encourages him. 

He breathes you in, tasting you without even a flicker of his tongue. Your arousal, your damp hair sticking to the column of your throat, the faint scent of your shampoo. 

Somehow he reigns himself in again. Teeth elongated enough they almost scrape your skin.  His breath comes out hot and heavy as you squirm beneath him for friction, wanting nothing more than to be filled. If he does this, if he makes you his mate, it would surely complicate everything. 

"You have to tell me you want it." He's panting, vulnerable as he looks at you, your heart shatters from the look. Deafening reason and logic as it screams how badly you want to be his and he yours. 

"Not just because it feels fucking good right now." His voice is husky, rasped as he fights the weight of his instincts, "Not because I'm fucking hot or a novelty to you mortals. If I mark you, you'll always feel something for me and vice versa. We'll be tethered and attracted to one another even if we fucking hate each other." 

Slowly you nod, again he grabs onto your chin, sliding it down to your throat as he squeezes. 

"This isn't some good acid trip, this isnt some fucking dream. You'll have to meet the elders. You'll have to deal with my ruts." Again he's panting, shaking from holding himself back, having half a mind to just kill you. Still you do not move away from his touch. 

"My jealousy. My rage. My need for territory control. I'll come home dripping in blood. I'll kill other Alpahs." He breathes your name in such a way you clench around him. He growls from the sensation. You struggle to speak beneath his grip, head floating but some how in the right spot. 

"I...I can handle it. Mark me Bakugou Katsuki. Fucking make me yours, fill me use me. Just…" He stares into your eyes until he can no longer take it. Pounding into you in a harsh pace, finally giving in  

"You'll take my knot like a good slut won't you?" His eyes watch you nod before they fall to your breasts. Watching them bounce from the force of his thrusts. His hips turn sloppy as your high builds again. You claw at his back and his smells your high as he tries to time it right. He sinks his teeth into your throat, keeping it just a hair above a marking. 

You feel a growing pressure as his tip stretches you even more until he finally sinks his teeth into you with a grown. His thrusts stuttering as hot ropes paint your walls. Your cunt flutters around it as all you can do is become limp in his grip. His arms are fully around you, his mouth still to your throat as he slowly eases up. His body giving off a bonding hormone so strong that even your moral senses can pick up on. It you drown in a high scented in spice caramel and heat.  He pants heavily, his arms shaking as he kisses you fiercely, teeth bumping into yours before he pulls back.

Weakly you claw at him to hold him as he whispers praises. He lifts you, pulling you towards his chest to keep you safe as you begin to drift. His mouth is pressed to your ear and you can hear the cocky smile in his voice. 

"Get some rest while you still can mate." His hand snakes around to your stomach, his fingers lightly caressing the skin.

"We aren't done until you're carrying my pups."

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@katsukisprincess @avellanagamer100 @bakugotrashpanda my number one fan

[princeescaluswords]

People ship Petopher because they are both extremely good looking redeemed villains-- and therefore exactly the kind of character that's widely liked in a fandom. Deaton, on the other hand, isn't particularly good looking, and he's the 'mysterious mentor' archetype, not unlike Dumbledore. And it's not exactly homophobic of people to not ship Dumbledore with many people, is it? Race has nothing to do with it.

As for your observation that Seth Gilliam isn't particularly good looking, I'll let others do my talking for me first.

https://mediadiversified.org/2018/07/06/black-men-are-made-to-feel-ugly-and-we-need-to-talk-about-it/

https://greatist.com/grow/black-people-cannot-be-ugly

https://www.jstor.org/stable/40282626?seq=1#metadata_info_tab_contents

And I have to ask you -- do you really think that your belief that Seth Gilliam is less attractive than Ian Bohen or J. R. Bourne has nothing to do with him being black? That the discrepancy between the amount of shipping of white male characters and black male characters receive is completely due to an objective evaluation of physical attractiveness? Are you really going to go there and say that the reason that people ship Deaton less is that he's just not that attractive?

Now let's address "Deaton is a mysterious mentor like Dumbledore, and no one ships that old wizard!" We could talk about how Deaton has very little in common with Dumbledore in terms of power level, authority, reputation, or motivation. We could talk about how it's a little interesting that you compare a middle-aged Deaton (who was played by a 42-year-old actor when Teen Wolf started and thus is only a year older than J. R. Bourne and seven years older than Ian Bohen) with someone who was 108 when the action in Harry Potter started (and played by a 70 year-old actor and a 60-year old actor in heavy makeup).

On the other hand, those conversations would seem to me to be of little use, because I think it would be more productive to ask you some questions about the 'mysterious mentor' archetype.

First, how is Deaton more mysterious than Peter? Do you not recall how many things we simply still do not know about Peter's character? Let me give you a list.

How did Peter survive the fire?

How did Peter know how to resurrect himself?

How did Peter know that Lydia was a banshee?

How did Peter know about the ritual used to save Cora?

How did Peter know how to perform the memory claw ritual to summon Talia?

What was Peter afraid of Talia telling Derek about him?

How did Peter know about nogitsunes when Derek didn't?

How did Peter recognize the Berserkers?

Where did Peter get 117 million dollars?

How did Peter know about all those assassins?

Peter was far more mysterious than Deaton ever was. Furthermore, can you actually look me in the face and tell me that Peter didn't fulfill the mentor role for Derek in Seasons 2 and 3a? Hell, that's all he did in those seasons. And then he went on to train Lydia in Season 3B and advise both Scott and Malia in Season 4?

To be fair, the same also applies to Chris Argent. Didn't he start training Allison as a hunter in Season 2? Didn't he have an entire episode where he lectured werewolves in 3A? Didn't he continue to teach Allison and offer guidance to Scott and Isaac in 3B? Are you forgetting the mentorship he provided Scott in Season 4? You better believe he was mysterious as well. Wasn't he suspected of being the Darach in Season 3A? Didn't Allison complain "I don't know what my father is thinking!" in 3B? Wasn't his allegiances in Season 4 kept vague -- especially after Araya cornered him in his workshop or he stole that unique form of wolfsbane? Weren't we, the audience, left wondering whose side he was on repeatedly?

Well, a possible counter might be that Peter and Chris were more active, and that would be true, if you discounted Deaton traveling to Japan and poisoning a yakuza boss in 3B or fighting oni or an alpha werewolf or exploring a psychic mind scape in season 4, or traveling to Russia and getting abducted by the Desert Wolf in Season 5, or crawling into a fear pit in Season 6.

So I have to ask what makes Deaton the 'mysterious mentor' archetype while Peter and Chris Argent are not? Of course, other than your desire to see Deaton desexualized.

But maybe you're right. Maybe wise, mysterious mentor figures aren't shipped as much by fandoms. We can easily prove that point by heading to AO3 and seeing examples of figures who are closer to Deaton's role who aren't shipped. Let's look at the Star Wars fandom, no one would be shipping Qui-Gon Jinn ... uh-oh. Wait, that's too different from Teen Wolf. I know, we'll look at Rupert Giles in the BtVS fandom, and no one would ship ... uh-oh.

Apparently, people do tend to ship mysterious mentor figures. As long as they are white and not centenarians.

This is why I keep pointing out incidents such as this. In your example, you see three characters who fulfill similar though not identical functions -- adult males of similar ages who serve as mentors yet possess their own agendas -- in the same narrative and you choose to identify the two white characters with a trope which you consider sexy and shippable and you choose to identify the black character with a trope which you consider unsuitable for shipping and thus, unworthy of fandom's regard.

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM.