#the tail is meant to be a way to attract a mate! instead of the sodians more practical use!

[ribbonzregretz]

a sub-species of the sodian! they have less of a monarchy and are more solitary than the sodians, i do intend to expand upon both sodian and ribdian culture!

[daddyy333]

Sensitive | Lo’ak x fem!omaticaya!reader

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.9k

warnings: readers very insecure and shy, reader was technically bullied as a kid, ?

summary: Y/n was always told she was overdramatic and sensitive growing up, so she kept quiet and didn’t tell anyone when something bothered her. Now, watching her mate potentially fall in love with another woman, she’s too worried about overreacting and refuses to say anything until eventually she can’t handle it anymore.

anything in bold like this in the middle of a sentence means it’s either Na’vi or meant to be in Na’vi but I don’t trust the translation websites so I just use the few words I know and make do with it💀

“It’s just a joke”

“You’re too sensitive”

“It doesn’t even matter”

“Why do you care so much?”

“You’re overreacting”

Your whole life, you’ve always been sensitive. It wasn’t hard to bring you down or upset you. You were always overthinking every little thing, analyzing every word a person said and the way they said it. You wished you were different, every single day you tried to stop caring so much but you couldn’t help it.

By the time you turned 18, you were quieter than a mouse. You only talked around your few friends, and even then you didn’t say too much in fear of seeming too sensitive. When something bothered you, you just stayed quiet and kept it to yourself.

Lo’ak thought you were just shy. You were really quiet all the time, but he was so attracted to you; he just had to get to know you. You really loved Lo’ak, more than anything on Pandora. He was so nice to you, and you trusted him and opened up to him a little, and he still accepted you fully.

You didn’t tell him everything though, you didn’t want to ruin something so good. You’d be heartbroken if Lo’ak left you so you made sure you were careful with what you said and how you reacted.

You mated before Eywa and it was a beautiful experience. You both took your time learning each other's bodies and making each other feel good. You were close to opening up all the way after that night, but you were still worried he wouldn’t accept you and all your flaws.

2 years later, you had to leave the forest and it terrfied you. You couldn’t help it then, you burst into tears and cried through it all. The forest was your home. This was where you felt safest. This was where you fell in love, where you were meant to be.

Lo’ak seemed to understand your worries though, and you were thankful. He held you as you cried, wiping your tears and helping you say goodbye to everyone. He felt bad when he could see tears flowing down your face as you rode your ikrans out of the forest.

You made it the Metkayina’s territory and naturally they got defensive and began to try and intimidate you, and the worst part was that it worked. Lo’ak could feel you shaking and he felt bad, wrapping his tail around your thigh and trying to comfort you as best he could.

You noticed Lo’ak look over at a young woman, but he quickly returned his attention to Olo’eyktan and Tsahík again. You looked over at her, ears turned down as you realized how much prettier she was than you.

You tried to ignore it, but when she was one of the Na’vi meant to tutor you guys, it made it hard to forget about it. You were worried Lo’ak would fall for her instead. She was very very pretty, and her voice was smooth and melodic, with the most gorgeous eyes ever too.

Lo’ak was attached to you at the hip the first few weeks. It helped reassure you that he was yours, always. He would always have an around wrapped around you or his fingers intertwined with yours, or at the very least have his tail caressing your back or wrapped around your leg or arms.

But he slowly started getting closer to Tsireya. He’d go sit next to her during lessons and you always sat next to him so you’d follow, and over time you could see the two of them giggling together whenever you took breaks, and she was so touchy in ways she wasn’t with everyone else. At least that’s how it seemed.

You were honestly a little heartbroken, you really hoped he wasn’t like that. You don’t know what you’d do if he asked for a second wife. It’d kill you. The worst part, she’s been trying to be friends with you.

You don’t want to be mean, so you indulge in whatever it is she wants. You’re actually quite close, you tell her lots of things and she actually helps you learn the way of the Metkayina quite a lot. It seems like she tries to talk about Lo’ak a lot, which sucks because it only convinces you more and more that they’re going to get involved any day now.

Lo’ak seems a little distant as time goes on. He’s not making love to you a lot, leaving you lying awake in the late hours of the night trying to ignore your arousal, even with your mate right next to you. He only really makes love to you when your in heat or when he is in rut, but it’s always rough and not as sweet because it’s the only way to relieve the pain.

He also sits with Tsireya a lot at dinner. Or he’ll tell her to come sit with you guys. You come close to snapping and telling him just how much it’s bothering you countless times but you don’t want to risk being seen as dramatic.

You find out you’re pregnant and initially you were overjoyed, excited to become a mother and forever grateful to Eywa for this gift. But then your heart sinks. How would Lo’ak react? You were worried about everything now. Would he still love you after all the changes your body was about to go through? Would he be even more distant?

When you told him he nearly screamed, picking you up and jumping around out of pure excitement. He threw you over his shoulder, making you scream as he ran out to the main gathering place for the clan and said “I’m going to be a father!”

The surrounding people laughed and congratulated you guys, and when his family came out, he ran to them and said “you’re going to be grandparents!” And instantly had Neytiri sobbing. He finally put you down and you groaned, nauseous from all the movement.

You were less worried realizing how excited he was, and it seemed like things got better after that. He was always taking you on dates, rubbing your bump and talking to the baby constantly, helping you through your morning sickness when he could, and he was always hunting and bringing you your favorite foods to keep you strong and healthy.

You concluded that maybe he was a bit distant the last few months, but you’d be okay now that you were about to become parents and he was so present now. Obviously he still spent time with Tsireya, which you didn’t mind, but every now and then you had your doubts.

He took you on a date night, preparing a sweet dish for you since all you wanted to eat were sweet things and took you swimming with Payakan, telling him how the baby was kicking now and showing off your bump. You rolled your eyes playfully at Lo’ak, he was convinced that your bump got bigger every single day.

Payakan let you guys rest on his back and watch the stars until you got tired and fell asleep cuddled in Lo’ak’s arms. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He fell asleep not that long after, keeping his hand on your bump to hopefully soothe your very active baby and keep it from kicking you all night.

When he woke up, you were still sleeping peacefully, being spooned by him as you mumbled softly in your sleep. He smiled to himself, kissing your head and caressing your bump. He felt the little one move slightly and he couldn’t help it as he blushed a little.

He spent a few minutes with you before he got up and had payakan bring you closer to the island and told him to wake up at sunrise if he wasn’t already there. He got to the island and prepared all his things to hunt for your favorite things right now and spent about 2 hours hunting.

He came back with tons of food, enough to last you a few days and immediately woke up Tsireya to help him cook it the way you liked. He wanted to celebrate today, as it was your 3 year anniversary and you were already halfway through your pregnancy. He was so excited, he almost wanted to leave Tsireya to finish cooking so he could go spend time with you.

You woke up to Payakan moving wildly and you quickly walked over to where he could see you to calm him down. The sun was halfway up, and you realized Lo’ak wasn’t with you anymore. You frowned slightly and noticed Payakan bringing you close to the island so you assumed Lo’ak was already there.

You greeted Jake and Neytiri as you happened to walk past them on the way to your marui pod and of course had to let Tuk talk to the baby for a few minutes and let them feel the little one kick. Tuk was so so so excited for the baby to come, she was asking almost every day if the baby would be here soon.

You eventually continued your journey to your home and when you got closer you heard some laughter and giggling. You recognized Lo’aks laugh but there was someone else’s. You listened for a few more seconds and realized it was Tsireya.

Every insecurity came flooding back and tears filled your eyes. Was this his plan the whole time? To have you sleeping quite literally across the ocean so he could spend time with her in your home.

You opened the flap and she was next to him, holding his hands trying to show him how to grind up these herbs properly. You scoffed and said “Lo’ak…” He immediately looked up and his eyes widened.

He smiled and said “hi, baby! How are you feeling?” “W-Why is she here?” You asked quietly, tears in your eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and said “she’s just helping me make you breakfast. I’m making all your favorites today, and she’s a better cook than I am so I needed her to help me”

You bit your lip and shook your head, you didn’t buy it. No way she was just here to cook and that was it. You turned around and left, going to the spot you and Lo’ak always go to to spend time together alone and uninterrupted.

Tsireya looked up and said “is everything okay?” “I- I-I don’t know. Do you think I should follow her?” He asked and Tsireya thought for a moment, nodding. He quickly thanked her and went out looking for you.

It took him a while to figure out where you’d gone, but once he did he was running as fast as he could. He got to your secret spot and found you crying, leaning against the rock you two always sat by.

“Baby…y/n, hey hey what’s wrong?” He said and you sniffled. You wiped your tears quickly and said “nothing. I’m fine, I’m just overreacting, it's nothing” “no, no honey. Hey, look at me. Talk to me,” he said and you looked up at him, eyes wet and nose tinted pink from crying.

“I just…y-you’ve gotten really close to Tsireya lately and I…I’m worried that- t- t-that uhm…” you said and stopped yourself shaking your head. He sighed and said “you’re worried I’m unfaithful?” You let out a small sob and said “I-it’s not that I don’t trust you- I-I just I can’t help it sometimes. I know it’s stupid! Just go away”

“Why do you think I’m cheating?” He asked, wiping your tears. You let out a shaky breath and said “well y-…you guys are just always really close. You used to always w-want to sit with her at dinner, a-and sometimes you used to choose to be with her instead of me. E-Everytime Tsireya and I talk she wants to know about you and our relationship”

“It’s not what you think, my love. I…I asked Tsireya to get close to you so she could tell me how you were feeling about our relationship and know what to work on to keep you happy. I- I-I know you’re very quiet and shy and I know if I ask you directly you’ll tell me everything is fine so I needed someone else’s help” he said and you gasped slightly, burying your head in your hands.

He pulled you into his arms, stroking your back and letting you cry. “It’s okay, babe. I know you were just worried about our relationship, and you had every right to be. I can understand that it might’ve looked a certain way from the outside” he said and you shook your head.

“I-I was being sensitive and overdramatic like always” you whimpered and he sighed. He kissed your head and said “why do you talk so poorly of yourself, my love? I don’t think that about you, no one does” “That’s not true…” you said and he furrowed his eyebrows yet again.

He pulled you from his chest to look in your eyes and said “who tells you these things?” “I…when I was a child, I-I used to be made fun of a lot. Even m-my parents would make comments. Everyone a-around me felt that way. I just stay quiet now, s-so no one gets upset at me anymore” you said and he shook his head.

He kissed you softly and said “let me see…please?” He grabbed his kuru and you looked up at him nervously. You nodded and grabbed yours, connecting them. You took a deep, shaky breath and he kissed your forehead, caressing your hand with his thumb. You let him see everything, every memory you had of it all.

“Oh sweetheart,” he said, tears in his eyes. “You didn’t deserve that. Honey, you aren’t overreacting, you have real concerns and worries and I want you to tell me all of them. Don’t ever shy away from talking to me and telling me how you feel. We are about to become parents, don’t you think we shouldn’t keep secrets?”

You nodded and he smiled sadly, kissing you softly. “Why uhm…w-why…” you said quietly and stopped yourself. He could hear your thoughts through tsaheylu, you were wondering why Tsireya was there making breakfast with him.

He shook his head and said “because today's our 3 year anniversary and you're halfway through growing our little princess” You smiled and sniffled. You chuckled and hugged him.

He rubbed your back and said “you’ll never have to worry about me hurting you. I never will. If I did, I promise you it was never intentional and I’ll apologize every single day for the rest of my life” “you’re a really good husband, you know” you said, sniffling softly.

“I try,” he chuckled. He kissed you a few times, nuzzling his nose against yours. You smiled and said “oel ngati kameie, ma muntxatan” “oel ngati kameie” he said and nuzzled his nose against yours once more.

You giggled and said “you know, the baby is realllly hungry” “is she?” He asked and you rolled your eyes.

“We do not know if it is a girl yet,” you said and he chuckled. He rubbed your bump and said “I just know it is. She’s my little princess. And you’re my queen” “what's uhm…what’s a queen again?” You asked and he chuckled.

You still forgot human concepts here and there which he found adorable. “Like an Earth Tsahík. But way less cool” he said and you nodded, giggling. He stood up and he held his hand out to help you up.

He brought you back to your pod and Tsireya looked up and noticed your slightly reddened nose and cheeks and your still slightly teary eyes. “Oh…oh my, are you okay? Is it the baby? Is something wrong? We should get you to my mother” she said and you shook your head.

“I’m okay, Reya. The baby’s okay too. See?” You said and placed her hand on your stomach where they were kicking softly. You hugged her and she gasped a little, looking at Lo’ak as she hugged you back.

Lo’ak waved his hand dismissively and then gave a thumbs up. She rubbed your back and said “here, have some breakfast. I hope you like it” “mmm, you guys better get some while you can because it’s not gonna be here for long” you said and chuckled to yourself.

Lo’ak smiled at you as you made yourself a place and said “she was just worried that I was unfaithful because of how much time we spend together” They both giggled quietly to each other.

“I should’ve known,” she said and sighed. He shook his head and said “no, no its okay. As much as I wish she didn’t feel that way for so long, some good things came out of it” “like what?” Tsireya asked. Lo’ak bit his lip in thought and said “it’s kind of between us,”

“Ah, I see. Well, take good care of her and write out instructions for lunch and dinner for you while you eat” she said and patted his shoulder, quickly leaving the pod. He smiled to himself and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

You hummed and held a piece of fruit behind you for him to eat. “Come on, let’s eat on the shore” he said and you brought your plate out with you as he dragged you out of the pod, forcing you to sit in between his legs as you both watched the sun fully rise and relaxed together.

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny @goddesslilithmoriarty

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[allfortheslay25]

Please tell us your merman au world-building!!!!

I love your art man it’s fucking gorgeous to look at and that comic downright made my day <3 <3

I love talking about my world building so thank you 🙏

I write sirens and mermaids as two different but similar specifies in most of my worlds. Depending on which world ur looking at, these attributes can vary. But let’s look at the one for the AFTF au I made

Sirens are assumed to be evil, flesh eating, inhumane creatures. Most people and merfolk believe them to be unintelligent with just the need to kill

Mermaids are considered beautiful singing seducers who can grant you wishes

Most of this is true. However sirens do sing to lure humans to feast on but it’s only for the need to live and eat. Mermaids drown people for fun.

A sirens diet includes humans, large fish/sea creatures, and sometimes each other or merfolks. Sirens are somewhat naturally bewitching and beautiful. They have natural singing voices and can camouflage, make illusions over their bodies to lure prey, and shapeshift slightly (can change color, size, sex)

Mermaids eat normal sea life like fish, squid’s and even some ocean plant life. They don’t have natural singing voices (some mermaids cannot sing but can imitate the sounds of sea life) they tend to be natural beauties but not in a magically alluring way that sirens are

Sirens tend to be skinny, lean, and small. However not all of them are this way. There are few sirens who can have longer and thicker tails.

Their petiteness is usually to help them swim away fast. Being smaller than most of their prey they need to be able to get away quickly.

Mermaids tend to be thicker, broader, with larger tails. Some mermaids can be small and petite too.

Since they do not have sharp enough teeth or fangs, nature provided their heavy tails to defend themselves and to kill prey. The tails can crack open a head under water within seconds, all it takes is a flick of their tails.

Sirens have retractable claws on their usually bony webbed fingers. They can lengthen at amazing speeds and are used to kill prey

Mermaids have blunter nails since their appearances are very human. Their hands aren’t always webbed, some mermaids have webbed fingers some don’t

Sirens have gills in four sets of places; the neck and ribs. Being deeper sea creatures they require the extra gills to breathe.

Mermaids only have the two sets on their ribs. Mermaid gills close and seal when out of water. Mermaids can breathe above water so once their gills touch the air they seal so their noses can do all the breathing instead

Mermaids have normal human like teeth with slightly sharper canines. Otherwise their teeth are flat, meant to grind plants.

Sirens have at LEAST two rows of teeth. Their teeth are razor sharp and can be jagged like a sharks. Sirens can have up to 4 rows of teeth at max. After the first set, their teeth get smaller in their mouth

Their tongues can be forked, tendrils with suction cups, or just normal human looking.

More facts:

Sirens tend to make their scales sparkle to attract prey.

They mostly live in the dark and their eyes adjust depending on the light around.

Sometimes a Sirens sclera (white of the eyes) turn black. When this happens it heightens their sights to recognize heat signatures instead of images.

Sirens are intersex, born with either male or female reproductive organs. They tend to value reproduction since their species is prone to dying so easily.

Sirens can be clingy when they have children. They value being with their children more than hunting and will prioritize their young over anything. Sirens rely on a mate at this time to do all the hunting so they can stay with their child

When a siren reaches a certain age their mothers (not only female presenting) lose interest and abandon them

Sirens don’t always form pods and are usually solitary creatures. Pods are either formed by family, mates, or the strong

Mermaids are lazy. They spend all their time grooming themselves, playing, and sunbathing

They care too much about their looks

A mermaids tail can be decorated/decorative which a mermaid takes pride in. They use them to attract mates. A mermaid will beat a big sea creature to death to prove their hunting skills and groom their tail to show their allure

Mermaids mate for life. Sirens do not. They also don’t breed as often as sirens since they don’t die as easily

Mermaids mostly form pods. They value strength in numbers. There is a hierarchy system in their pods (sirens do not have a hierarchy system but they can if they choose to do so)

Mermaids are social creatures

Mermaids can mimic the voices of humans. Sometimes they mimic the voices of sailors loved ones so they can drown them. It’s like a game. Mermaids love games

Mermaids can partially control the ocean; create whirlpools and summon sea creatures. Some powerful mermaids can summon storms and cause tsunamis but it’s rare

Mermaids tend to be attracted to shiny things

If there are any follow up questions I’d love to answer !!!

[lebirbybitch]

The first in what will hopefully be a couple of connected one-shots, and eventually compiled and made into a longer fic, because I'm genuinely obsessed with this au.

@missterious-figure

Chance Meetings

~~~~~~~|

It wasn't often that Stella got a chance to actually watch one of the brothers performing. More often than not, she was cleaning the stage and audience area in between shows, desperately trying to tidy up before the next event. She wasn't meant to be here, not truly, always having some sort of task she was meant to complete.

The Casino never slept, and neither did Stella most days. Snatches of sleep could be grabbed when she could find a place to rest, but as it was she was better off taking her far and few breaks eating if nothing else.

She could deal with being exhausted if she simply grabbed something sugary to keep her wired. Was it healthy? Absolutely not. But she didn't need to be clean and shiny for the crowd, not as maintenance. All that mattered was she avoided stains on her "uniform", and she got the jobs done she was supposed to.

But she had a break now, and a too-sweet snack bar was held limply in her hands as she watched the night time performance.

Moon was glamorous as always, perhaps not as flashy as Sun or Eclipse, but elegant. His silver tail spread and swaying with every movement, feathers shiny and full. His eyes seemed to drag over the audience, letting them know he was watching them watch him. He shone in the attention.

Stella herself was hidden behind a curtain, dull and dusty bronze and seafoam feathers catching nothing more than the dirt in the air. She knew she wasn't much to look at at all, and compared to the shining silver of Moon, she was a dirty copper penny.

It didn't stop her heart fluttering at the display, the dancing and flaunting once meant for a mate instead gathering gasps and praise. A softer part of her imagined Moon dancing for her, but she swiftly shoved that part away.

She was already breaking rules by simply watching. It wouldn't do to lose herself in a fantasy. The music began to crescendo on stage, Moon finishing up his act in his usual flourish.

Stella pulled her gaze away from the stage, carefully tucking herself into the door hidden behind the curtain, the freezing air of the backways halls causing her to shiver. She pressed her back against the door, her neglected feathers fluffed up as much as they could as she savored the image of Moon's final pose in her mind, the way the light had bounced off of him. The noise behind her settled into a dull murmur as the audience began to leave the room, discussing the show.

She sighed, rubbing the feathers on her arms to sit flat once more, wincing at the dry feel of them. A few broken ones fell to the floor, and she quickly picked them up and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.

She wasn't a performer, she reminded herself as she bit into the stale candy bar she'd grabbed from the trash, the sugar off-sweet on her tongue. Her clawed feet tapped softly against the concrete of the hall as she walked, her particular biology unable to handle being shoved into shoes. (Not that the company would give a lowly maintenance worker much more than the robes she wore already.)

She didn't have the benefit of being a star attraction's mate, not like Chica. Stella berated herself for the hot flash of jealousy that bloomed in her chest at the thought of the chicken harpy. Chica was better than Stella, pretty and graceful if nothing else.

There wasn't a being in the world who'd look at Stella's disgraceful state and call her "pretty".

Even Toby said she looked like a feather duster more than an actual bird, and if there was anyone who's opinion she'd agree with it'd be the only other employee in this damn place she actually talks to.

Even if it was only when he specifically searched her out, and could drag her away from her work.

It wasn't his fault she had to work for her stay. It's not like the company spent much money on her in the long run. And it was far easier to continue working her like a mule than trying to sell her and explain her condition, or fancy her up just to get rid of her.

So she was good at what she did. She cleaned fast, and she cleaned well, and she didn't complain when she worked a whole week without a single hour of sleep within a day. The only thing worse than the company trying to pretend she didn't exist was when they noticed her failure.

Stella shook her head, adjusting the bag on her back that held her supplies as she opened the door to the backstage, carefully looking back and forth.

Good. Nobody there.

Stella placed her bag by the hidden door, grabbing a broom that was already propped against the wall. She didn't carry one around with her everywhere like the wipes and sprays, just left a few in areas she knew she'd need them. It was simplier that way, easier to stay out of sight if she wasn't lugging around a stick that'd give her away.

The practiced motions of sweeping the stage allowed her to drift, the exhaustion that normally clung to her weighing heavier when she began a monotone task such as this.

(Later, she would attribute her lack of sleep to the lack of awareness, and how she managed to completely ignore the other person in the room.)

As she was sweeping, gaze unfocused, a shine caught her eye. Pausing in her work, Stella leaned down to pick up a button, the gold coloring shining softly in the now-dim lighting of the empty room.

"Oh good, you found it already."

Stella yelped, spinning around with the button clutched close to her chest as the broom fell with a clatter, scattering her dustpile where it collapsed.

Standing serenely across from her, face unimpressed, was the largest of the peacock brothers, Eclipse.

Stella felt a cold chill go down her back. She wasn't meant to be seen, much less by the one brother most likely to begin searching her out, or go asking questions. The last thing she needed was her meager breaks being removed entirely because she managed to completely miss Eclipse's entrance.

"I'm- I'm sorry sir, I didn't hear you enter." She managed to stammer out, forcing her feathers down and averting her gaze. "Is there something I can possibly help you with?"

Stupid stupid Stella, she muttered in her head. Don't make the very important harpy ask MORE questions.

"The button." Eclipse said simply, his smooth voice breaking Stella's internal monologue. "It fell from Moon's glove sometime during the performance, I offered to search for it. Far easier to have it simply reattached rather than waiting for a new one to be ordered."

As he spoke he walked forward, his much greater height making him tower over Stella. She herself was barely taller than the average human male, while Eclipse was easily twice her size.

With an ease that honestly impressed Stella, Eclipse leaned down and picked up her broom, holding out the cleaning impliment towards her, his other hand palm up.

"A trade, perhaps?" He crooned, gaze flicking to the hand Stella was holding the button in.

She blinked in surprise, before quickly dropping the button into Eclipse's gloved hand, pulling back and grabbing her broom as if the other harpy was on fire. Part of her felt both better and worse as she took a few steps back from the larger bird, broom clutched against her chest.

Eclipse rolled the button between his fingers, humming softly.

"I don't think I've seen you around before." He hummed, taking wide strides to circle around Stella. She stood still, trying to avoid the way her feathers wanted to rise as he shifted out of her sight.

"I'm just maintenance, sir." She replied softly, gaze locked onto the floor. "You're not supposed to."

Eclipse sighed harshly, his shadow falling over Stella.

"Do you have a name, maintenance?" He asked, seemingly biting out the last word between his teeth.

Stella shivered, closing her eyes tightly. Her name was something she kept close to her chest, not even Toby knew it. Management didn't care, it wasn't worth remembering if they weren't going to use it for advertising. She was simply a Maintenance worker, and in some occasions she'd been referred to as "the maid". But never her name.

To those in charge, she didn't have one.

"I'm just a cleaner sir." She stammered, "Just trying to do my job. Honestly, I'm nobody important."

Eclipse stepped forward, back in Stella's view. His expression seemed...dissapointed, and Stella shirked away from the barely hid anger in his gaze.

"Please sir, I'm just trying to do my job. I wouldn't want to take more of your time." Stella said softly, utterly aware of her dusty feathers and unkempt state compared to the second-most vain of the star attractions.

Heavy silence sat in the room, the dark shadows of the drawn curtains hanging over Eclipse, a thin ray of light shining on Stella. She felt like she was under a microscope, a disgusting bit of dirt being studied for her faults.

"If you must." Eclipse finally said, breaking the tension. He turned quickly, bronze tail swaying behind him. "I wish you luck with the rest of your night, Maintenance." He called, pushing through the heavy curtains to leave the room.

Stella listened to him leave, unable to pry her gaze from the floorboards of the stage as the clack of Eclipse's boots became softer and softer. The creak and shut of the door relayed his exit, and Stella collapsed, falling to her knees with the broom as her only support.

Adrenaline coursed through her, the stress of the interaction leaving her hands shaking. A few dusty feathers fell into the dust around her, her trembling body shaking them free.

Stella took a few minutes to gather herself, before standing and quickly finishing her job. Perhaps not as thorough as normal, but she didn't want to be in that room any longer. The next show was due to start within the next 10 minutes.

Stella practically ran to her next job, the scenario running through her head over and over again. She could only hope Eclipse would think her just as dull as any of the other harpies in the building, or moreso, and completely forget about her.

It wouldn't do to stress over it, she thought to herself, and then had to suppress the hysterical laughter she wanted to let out at the thought.

As if she wasn't stressed enough.

She would just have to pretend it didn't happen, and let the actual problems take priority.

Like the fact someone had apparently broken an entire wine bottle in the outside gardens, according to her hidden radio.

No rest for the weary, she supposed.

~~~~~~~~~~

[thisisfullofrandomfandoms]

Nalu Week 2024 - Day 7 Jealousy & Dance

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57207337/chapters/145512967#workskin

@allaboutnalu and @thenaluarchive

This was ridiculous. 

Natsu sat at the bar, leg jumping, teeth grinding. His scowl frightened the bartender from asking for his order and his snarling emptied all the seats beside him. 

The place was a nice one, upper class, a party in an old mansion that only hosted such events of celebration. Fairy Tail’s strongest team had done it again and the town was happy to throw such a lavish event as a thank you.  They partied the only way they knew how: Natsu gorging on the buffet that was now nothing but the scraps Happy munched on, Erza was talking about their previous gallant adventures, Gray politely turning down other young ladies and trying to find a place to relax, and Lucy…Lucy was on the dance floor. 

Natsu rolled his eyes when the song ended and another loser asked for the next one, almost breaking the counter when she agreed. What was even the point of it? Dancing? Why did Lucy want to do it so much and why did she need some guy to do it? The dragon slayer tried his best for a song or two. Lucy had been kind enough to wait for him to finish eating only to send him packing with bruised feet when he kept messing up. He really did try his best but it was just too pointlessly complicated. Specific, little movements that changed with every song that you had to memorize. Dragons could dance but it was always a more grand affair, meant to attract a mate if anything else. Why did Lucy feel the need to do it with practically every guy here for the whole night?

The man she was dancing with seemed to be kind, one of the few that did not let his eyes wander nor make Lucy seem uncomfortable. They chatted as they spun, the steps of this song making them stay way too close together. 

If anything, she seemed to like she was enjoying whatever stupid thing the guy had to say. He didn’t even know anything about Lucy! Not about her past or her mighty feats in battle, nor about the kind of food she liked and bugs she didn’t. Nothing about being a wizard or beating people up! What did they even have to talk about? And so much? She gave him the time of day just ‘cause of some fancy moves?

Why was dancing such a big deal? 

And why did she have to look so happy doing it with someone else?

Natsu finally broke a piece of the counter when the song ended and Lucy allowed the same guy to have a second dance, the first guy that night to have more than one besides Natsu. The dragon-slayer silenced the yelp of the bartender with one glare and forced his fire to simmer down. Natsu turned back around and took deep breaths, as he held himself back from rushing in and picking a fight with the guy. 

Or burning him alive.

Or burning this entire place down. 

Slits of onyx watched a hand slide low on the blonde's back. He stood. Then stopped when Lucy’s laugh reached his ears. She didn’t knock the guy's hand off, push him away, or shout at him for suddenly overstepping. The celestial mage didn’t even call for the dragon-slayer to frighten the guy off. Instead she just let the pink gild mark on her hand, nestle into his and the two continued swaying. 

Something about that caused his fire to sizzle out. 

[gabessquishytum]

Oh man, one single line at the end of the bath attendant au post sent my mind to a very specific place and I'm a slut for misunderstandings and I'm making it everyone's problem now.

Dream was pretty blissed out when Hob left, but he figured it was fine, it was just a hookup, and he's seen Hob around a decent amount so there's a good chance he'll see him again and maybe they can get to know each other more. Then he finally gets up and sees the money on top of his robe.

Dream is livid.

(Well, actually he's hurt. But it's easier to be angry.)

He thought he and Hob had some kind of connection, especially since Hob was so nice and attentive to him, but apparently Hob just thought Dream was a whore. He gets dressed, and angrily shoves the money into another attendant's hand, and goes to scrub off all the sweet scented oils that Hob massaged into his skin because now it just makes him feel dirty.

When Hob and his mates come back the next week, Hob is eager to see Dream again. Instead, the second they lock eyes, Dream is glaring daggers at him and turning heel to stalk away. Confused, he follows after him, ignoring the wolf whistles from his friends (which Dream hears too, and it just makes him more hurt heartbroken humiliated fucking pissed).

Eventually Hob corners him, teasingly asking why Dream is being such a brat, and Dream just snaps. He's not yelling loudly, doesn't want to attract attention, but he doesn't need to. The way he hisses and snarls and gets in Hob's space is plenty effective. Hob is a lot bigger than Dream, and he knows from experience that he can manhandle Dream pretty well, but right now he feels like a house pet facing down a feral cat, tail between his legs and utterly outmatched when faced with teeth and claws and vicious rage.

(He's also very much marked down as scared AND horney, Dream is hot as hell when he's angry and he really needs his dick to calm down until he can sort this out.)

He pieces together what happened, how Dream assumed the money left for him was a payment for sex, and how dare Hob treat him like a prostitute, how dare he disrespect him like that, he was probably laughing at him with all his shitty friends and Dream will NOT stand for it- and for the first time Hob completely drops the cocky attitude. He had meant the tip as a gift for a clearly underappreciated worker, and also a bit as a cheeky little joke, he honestly hadn't meant to offend (it occurs to him suddenly that Dream has never laughed at any of his or his friends' jokes, so yeah maybe he should have thought that one through a little more).

Also, he's realizing right now this moment that he likes Dream- not just as an amazing hookup, he cares about hurting Dream's feelings and he genuinely wants to make it right.

Once Dream is done ranting, still glaring like he could kill Hob with a stare, Hob gives him a very sincere apology, explaining that he hadn't meant the money to be taken that way, and then he gets to work groveling as long as it takes to get back in Dream's good graces because he canNOT let this one get away.

(Said groveling ranges from lecturing his friends to be more respectful to service workers, to letting Dream fuck his face hard and fast. Hob is good at groveling, so Dream will forgive him. Eventually.)

Aksdjfjfjfj yeah this au if so good <3 here's the link to the original!!!

I love this expansion on the idea. Hob being a himbo and just trying to be good and nice and maybe even impress Dream by being funny?? Very in character. He's an idiot and I love that about him.

I'm also just thinking that Dream (who is skinny and frail) pressing Hob (who is big and strong) up against the wall and giving him an absolute chewing out - "I'm not your whore, you can take your filthy money and your stinking little friends and you can get out of here before I make you!" - is very very sexy. Hob is looking into Dream’s startlingly blue eyes and he's falling in love while also mentally facepalming himself for being such an idiot. He lets Dream say what he needs to say and tries not to be obviously aroused by the display of anger because that probably wouldn't be helpful right now. And when Dream is done, he gives a very simple verbal apology... and then he slides down to his knees on the hard tiled floor.

Dream was expecting excuses, maybe an apology if he was lucky. He stares down at Hob suspiciously, and Hob stares back. He leans forward and presses his cheek against the outline of Dream’s cock through his robe, as though requesting permission. And Dream decides to make him wait.

Hob is left to kneel with his mouth sooo close to Dream’s cock. Drool starts to build up and slide from his lips, but he doesn't shift or make a sound. He just fixes his big brown eyes on Dream’s face, and waits for permission. And naturally, Dream finds this act of literal grovelling devastatingly sexy.

At last he grabs Hob by the jaw and forces his mouth open. Hob is pliant and willing and when he gets the sudden mouthful of cock, he tries so hard not to choke. He wants this to be the best apology ever.

Dream certainly milks it for all it's worth. He gives Hob a very thorough facial and makes sure than his cum drips all over, from the cute cleft in his chin all the way to his hairline. Hob accepts it all, and only moves to lick a bit off his lips, moaning as he tastes it. It's very hard for Dream to stay mad with Hob looking so thoroughly sorry.

And Hob does explain (in a slightly rougher voice than before) that he genuinely isn't cruel or disrespectful. He's just an idiot. And he'd very much like to continue showing Dream how sorry he is. He's been fingering his hole every night since he last visited the bathhouse, hoping to be able to show off for Dream. Does he still have a chance?

Of course the answer is yes. But Dream can't resist tucking the money that Hob left for him last time into one of Hob’s own pockets. Maybe they'll keep swapping the money back and forth... or maybe Hob will use to buy a nice trinket for Dream instead. It's too early for rings, but he'd look beautiful with a ruby pendant, right? <3

[catsafarithewriter]

Day 4: Superheroes

A/N: Welp it looks like I got my days mixed up and am running a day late, but no fear! This is for day 4 of this year's TCR birthday bash, superheroes. I thought I'd go with something more lighthearted today, so here is a little ficlet regarding a different way the cat kingdom could have tried to thank Haru :D

x

"We have decided," said the cat on Haru's windowsill, "that you must be thanked appropriately for saving Prince Lune."

"Uh-huh," Haru said. What she really wanted to say was something like, "I'm dreaming, right?" or "Excuse me, do you know you're a cat?" or even "AAHHHH" coupled with violently swinging a chair – but cats who could talk probably could do other things they weren't meant to, and she didn't want to find out if that included curses.

"Given the magnitude of our debt, the King has decreed that we shall do everything in our power to make you happy," the cat continued, oblivious to Haru weighing up the pros and cons of punting it off a first floor window. "For instance, our research has indicated that humans your age tend to struggle with low confidence, body image, and preoccupation with finding a mate."

"Uh-huh," Haru said again, for entirely different reasons.

"So, to show our gratitude, we have eliminated such problems!"

Haru stared. "...How?"

"Come to a mirror, and I'll show you!"

This had to be a dream. But now Haru was curious to see what her sleeping mind would conjure up in her reflection. She fumbled for her phone and switched on the camera. Maybe her skin would now be porcelain smooth. Maybe her hair would look effortlessly perfect. Maybe she would see entirely a different face.

She was disappointed when there appeared to be nothing changed. "Okay, cat, I'm looking."

"Open your mouth!"

She gave the cat a dubious side-eye, but did so. A maw lined with sharp feline teeth filled the picture.

Haru snapped her mouth shut.

"Do you like it?" the cat asked, with a tone that indicated this was a rhetorical question and that she could start thanking it any time now.

"You gave me fangs??"

"Canines! Fangs have venom!"

"Is that really what's importa–" She felt wood chips beneath her nails and quickly withdrew her hand from her desk. "And claws? What did you do to me?"

"We gave you the ideal body!" the cat announced.

"You gave me claws!"

"Claws are attractive! They're far better than those blunt little stumps you call nails! This way you can prove your hunting prowess and win a mate!"

"You think I'm gonna get a boyfriend because I can catch mice now?"

"Oh, Miss Haru, at your size you should set your sights on much bigger prey! Squirrels and rats, at least! Our research also indicated you were frustrated with your lack of balance–"

"This feels needlessly personal."

"–so we gave you feline grace!"

"Wait," Haru said as she realised the other insinuation of the cat's comment, "have you been watching me?"

"Yes!"

"Oh." Haru blinked. She'd expected at least a little guilt in the admission.

"If this is not sufficient thanks, I'm sure we can find other ways to improve your life–"

"No! I mean, no thank you. This is..." easy enough to hide. "This is fine. You don't need to thank me any more." This was not fine. This was so far over the line of 'fine' that it was a dot on the horizon.

"Are you sure? There was some debate over the inclusion of a tail..."

"I'm good."

"–at least on a permanent basis."

"What?"

"Don't worry, we realised that a persistant tail would require a strain on your wardrobe–"

"What does that–"

"–so we decided that you should get the best of both worlds and have it only when needed!"

A beat passed. A herd of questions hoofed through her mind. "And... the wardrobe problem?" she hazarded at last.

The cat waved a breezy paw. "Oh, don't worry about that! We've sorted it out."

Haru's mouth formed the word 'how' and then her mind thought better of it. "I don't suppose I could convince you to take it all back, could I?" she tried instead.

The cat's mouth wobbled. "You don't like it?"

Well darn it. Now she felt bad. "No, of course I like it!" she lied. "I just don't think I really need it. Or deserve it. I mean, I just acted without thinking, I wasn't being brave."

"Oh." The cat blinked, and the watery look vanished immediately. "Oh," it said again, with far too much assurance, "this is one of those adolescent lack of confidence things, isn't it?"

"I – no?"

"You don't think you're worthy of such a gift because you don't believe in yourself!" the cat proclaimed, with all the confidence of someone adding one plus one and getting three. It patted Haru's hand. "Don't worry, the whole cat kingdom has agreed that you earned this, so enjoy it! Oh, and before I forget..." With a flourish, the cat whipped a little velvet box out of thin air. "The final part to your reward."

Despite all her misgivings, Haru took the box and cautiously opened it. A beautiful silver necklace with a shimmering cat charm rested inside, its single visible eye carved out of a golden-brown gemstone. (Tiger eye, she suspected.)

"It's... lovely," she stuttered. "But I can't accept–"

"You can and you will! Goodbye!" And before Haru could fumble for any other excuses, the cat had leapt out of the window, Haru still holding the box. After a dubious moment passed, she gingerly put the necklace on. (After all, it was gorgeous. It would be a waste not to wear it.) Then she picked up the phone and was halfway through dialling Hiromi, when she hesitated.

Just what was she going to say?

Yeah, so you know the cat I saved yesterday, well it turns out it was a prince...

Look, when you see me, don't make a fuss over my teeth or my claws...

So it looks like cats are trying to help my love life...

She put the phone down. No, best to just not mention it and hope no one noticed. After all, who would jump to the conclusion that they were blessings from a cat and not just a figment of the imagination? Haru barely believed it, and her windowsill was still warm from where the cat had sat.

Then, because it was a Tuesday morning and school didn't accept sick notes for 'my entire physiology was altered by cats in the night' she dragged herself out of bed and prepared herself for the day.

It was just as she was finishing changing into her uniform that the giant rat stampeded past her front door. (Haru was fairly sure that 'stampede' was the right word for, even if it was only a single beast, it did have half a dozen feet.)

Since this wasn't an acceptable thing to see, not even on a gloomy Tuesday schoolday, Haru naturally leant of her window out to better see the chaos. She vaguely wondered if she should call the police – but rather suspected that things like rampaging rats taller than a bungaloo were probably already on the police's radar.

What were police even meant to do about unnatural megafauna? Build a giant mousetrap? Ask it politely to turn itself in? This kind of shenanigan, Haru thought, probably weren't covered in training.

Really, she continued to think, this kind of shenanigan was more the territory of comic book heroes or magical girl responsibilities.

It was as that exact thought struck, that Haru became engulfed in golden light. She felt her form shift, her hair change, and most notably, her clothes alter.

I've literally just gotten ready for school, she thought, and then she was deposited back on the floor. She looked down at herself.

What she was now wearing could best be described as a marriage between a leopard-print leotard and her school uniform. There were bows. There were ribbons. There was a sparkly tutu (and a pair of shorts, much to Haru's relief).

And, as she moved to sit down in disbelief, she discovered there was – emerging from perfectly-tailored shorts and tutu – a tail.

"Well," she said eventually, "I guess that does solve the wardrobe problem."

x

A/N: Gee, some of you may be thinking, it sure is serendipitous/a coincidence that the same day Haru gets 'superpowers' there appears a monster! Well, I'm here to tell you that it's less happenstance, and more like the truck driver who nearly ran over Lune is having the worst Tuesday of his life. (Don't worry, he gets transformed back with only an increase in cheese preference and a fun day explaining to his boss why he didn't turn up for work.) As far as the cats are concerned, if you reward a human by turning her into the best thing to be (cat, obvs) then you punish a human by turning him into the worst thing to be (a rodent).

[theoceanoasis]

{Hey hope you're doing well, I bring a Megasoundrod Au}

Rodimus is a Siren who refuses to hunt and eat land mechs unlike his fellow sirens. One day he hiding behind some rocks watching some shooting stars until he hears a incoming ship passing by. Curious he swims closer keeping out of the way of their nets and spears so he can spy on the crew, for a while he listens to the crew laughing talking and playing music until 2 mechs catch his optic. Megatron who is clearly the Captain of this crew and Soundwave his first mate and right hand.

Over the coming weeks Rodimus carefully watches Megatron and Soundwave and little by little he starts falling for them. However Roddy knows love between a land mech and siren is impossible as neither can survive without their homes, So one night he plans to visit the pair one last time before they leave the lagoon forever. Quickly and quietly he sneaks on bored the ship making his way into their quarters, there he sees them resting peacefully in their berth. Just before Rodimus is able to sneak into the plush berth he accidently knocks a table with his tail making a glass fall and break, the sound of glass shattering wakes both Soundwave and Megatron who look on in confusing when they see a Siren at the foot of their berth.

He swam through the water singing to himself as he swam alone instead of with his pod. Unlike the others he didn't eat land mechs. Instead he found them fascinating and wanted to learn more.

The others in his pod didn't agree and he ended up being kicked out for being too different. A siren who didn't eat land mechs wasn't right in their optics.

Now he moved through the water trying to find a place to call home. Sirens were social creatures, which is why they moved in pods and sang songs to attract other sirens attention.

Even though he tried to hide it he felt lonely. He missed his old pod even if he didn't agree with them and was oftentimes bullied at least he had someone to swim with.

Getting tired he found a nearby rock and climbed on top. He rested for a moment taking in the beautiful sky above him.

He watched as a shooting star passed by and made a wish asking for someone to love.

Noticing a boat coming closer he found his interest peaked. He swam closer being careful to avoid being seen. Even though he liked land mechs he was aware of the reputation his people had and knew humans would react negatively if they saw him. Even though he wished them no harm at all.

He carefully watched from a hidden area. Smiling at the land mechs who were celebrating and basking in their joy.

They were dancing around on their boat playing music and laughing as they had fun. He felt a pang in his spark as he wished to experience that.

Looking down at his tail he knew it wasn't possible and found his optics drawn back towards the ship. They all seemed so happy together and it made his spark twist painfully.

He was so lonely and wished he had someone to love. His fellow sirens refused to accept him because he was too different in their optics.

The land mechs would never accept him either only seeing him as a monster which meant he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.

Suddenly everyone onboard turned to face a large gray mech who he assumed was the captain. The mech who he learned was named Megatron dismissed his crew telling them to have fun.

He then turned to his second command who he learned was named Soundwave. The two shared an intimate moment between them and he found his spark beating rapidly in his chest.

There was something about the two of them that he couldn't explain. He found himself drawn towards them and desperately wanted to climb aboard and speak with them.

He knew it was a bad idea so he watched them from a distance. The entire time wishing he could be with them. They were both so amazing and he found himself falling in love.

Every day he found himself returning to their ship and watching the land mechs as they moved around. His spark hurt watching them because it was obvious they cared about each other a lot and were a family.

As he watched Megatron and Soundwave he found himself falling more in love with them. He cared about them a lot and desperately wanted to be with them but he knew it wasn't possible.

Neither of them could survive in the others environment and no matter how much he wished things could be together they'd never love a monster like him.

When he found out they were leaving the area he'd panicked. He didn't want to lose them and the very idea of them leaving made him want to cry.

That night waited until everyone was asleep before climbing aboard. He carefully made his way to the captains room and quietly opened the door. It was difficult since he was forced to drag himself on land but he made it work.

With the door open he could see Soundwave and Megatron sleeping together in the same bed. There was some space between them and he decided to snuggle between them.

He'd only stay for a few hours and then leave before they woke up. That way they'd have no idea he was there.

He moved closer when something startled him. He jerked back and his tail crashed into something causing it to fall.

The sound woke the two mechs and he froze staring at them in fear. The three of them stared at each other for a long moment all of them frozen before he quickly escaped.

His spark was pounding as he dragged himself towards the ocean. The entire time he was berating himself for being so stupid.

The humans followed him and he made a sound of fear. Even though he loved them he knew a human would never love a siren and was scared they'd hurt him.

He pushed himself into the water ignoring their shouts telling him to stop. When he was in the safety of water he took off as fast as he could. Going to a nearby rock he hid behind it and watched the land mechs from a distance.

Feeling tears in his optics he couldn't stop himself from breaking down and sobbing uncontrollably.

[deepspacedukat]

I hope you’re not all kinked out! Possible fic… Dukat tied to a chair, blindfolded, interrogated by a spy (obsidian order or tal Shiar??). They don’t get very far with the interrogation because he seduces them with his sexy words and has them fuck him instead.

Also thank you for all your stories so far!

Ooooooh, I love this! I hope you don't mind that I chose a Tal Shiar agent for this! The idea of a Romulan!Reader is just too intriguing for me to pass up. I hope you enjoy this, my friend! 💜

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

--

Melodramatic Vulcans

Dukat (ST:DS9) x Romulan!Reader

[A/N: This is smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies sex, Cardassian/Romulan sex, oral sex (female receiving), captor/captive sex, Dukat is an arrogant bastard even when restrained, implied torture, referenced mind probes.

~*~

"You'd do well to answer my questions willingly, Gul," I called from the opposite side of the small interrogation room. Pouring myself a glass of water, I acted as though his presence was barely worth nothing. Dukat had been a thorn in the Tal Shiar's side for many years. He enjoyed baiting us with his own pathetic attempts at espionage within our organization. Now, he found himself tied to a chair and entirely at my mercy. "I assure you, we have other much less pleasant ways of extracting information from our prisoners."

"Yes, well, you may be more expressive than your Vulcan cousins, but I am no more intimidated by you than I would be by one of their species," Dukat crowed, but I just smirked in response and turned to look at him as I dropped my voice to a lower register - one that never failed to make my prey cower.

Admittedly, seeing Gul Dukat cowering before me would be intoxicating. The hunger in his eyes mingling with fear...the low rumbles that would reverberate through his chest–

No. I needed to focus. I had a job to do. I couldn't afford to indulge in fantasies, no matter how attractive my prisoner might be.

"Then you clearly have no idea who you're dealing with," I murmured as I stalked slowly across the small cell toward his bound body. Even captive like this, he seemed obscenely relaxed, sprawling his legs out as if he was in a plush armchair rather than tied to a tiny seat made of unyielding, unpleasant metal. "In a few moments, you'll be so busy spilling your government's secrets and pleading with me to remove the mind probe that you'll have no time for your posturi–"

"Gespar or lyka berries?"

His question was so far afield that I could do no more than stare at him blankly for a moment as I tried to work out what he meant.

"In your perfume," Dukat clarified with a gleam in his eyes. "Is that gespar I smell? Or is it the scent of lyka berries?"

What?

"I'm not wearing perfume," I replied truthfully, too stunned to lie, and he grinned deviously.

"Well, then, your natural scent is much more pleasant than I'd been lead to believe about Romulans, my dear. Or perhaps that's more than just your normal scent," he said allowing his eyes to rake down my uniform-clad body. "Maybe you've been thinking about the same things that I have. After all, I am at your mercy. I couldn't exactly resist your advances should you wish to make them - not that I would ever turn down a willing partner when she's as lovely as you are."

Placing my hands on my hips, I was quite certain my incredulity was written all over my face.

"Your brain is about to be sifted through by our mind probes, and all you can think of is sex?" Forcing down the thought that I was being hypocritical given my own musings, I tried to coat my every word in as much condescension as I could muster. "No wonder the Federation made your people run back home with your tails tucked between your legs. You were too busy mating to bother with a war."

"Don't forget who you're addressing. I'm the Former Prefect of Bajor. I've quite mastered the skill of multitasking," Dukat boasted as he unabashedly tossed me a wink. Was I imagining things, or was there a bulge growing more prominent in the front of his uniform trousers? "Both business and pleasure are areas in which I'm thoroughly versed."

Suppressing a shiver of anticipation, I lifted an eyebrow in what I hoped he would interpret as disbelief. Truthfully, though, all I could think of was how the women in his bed had been treated. Was he all hot air, or was there some veracity in his bragging?

"There, you see? I knew you were curious, just not about how the specs of our cloaking devices differ from yours," he said as a grin stretched his lips. "I'd be more than happy to show you, if you like. Compare me to the men of your species - in skill, in size, however you wish - but I can assure you, you won't be disappointed or leave this room unsatisfied."

Not for the first time, I was glad that the walls were soundproofed and that there were no cameras in this particular interrogation room. They'd surely be picking up the slight emerald blush coating my cheeks by now of they'd been present.

What a pompous ass of a man!

But I couldn't deny that I wanted to test his skills on a personal level. Doubtless, he'd already taken my silence for the damning admission that it was. That smirk hadn't dropped even a fraction of a millimeter. He had me, and he knew it.

"Come now, Major. Surely we can come to some sort of mutual understanding...?" I couldn't deny that I wanted to know what the Gul's moans sounded like from between my thighs. "Perhaps an exchange?"

Hesitating for merely a moment, I crossed my arms over my chest.

"What did you have in mind?" As soon as the words passed my lips, I knew it was the wrong question to ask. He seemed positively gleeful.

"I'll answer a single question about our cloaks and satisfy your curiosity about Cardassian sexuality, and in exchange, you'll let me go without using those pathetic, primitive mind probes."

Well, he never specified when I needed to let him go, and he didn't rule out other forms of persuasion, so I thought it was a safe enough bet. Besides, though my species valued honesty, Romulans could still lie when the situation called for it.

No time like the present.

"Agreed," I answered tilting my chin up and moving to stand between his legs. "The question first. What do you use to shield the ambient radiation given off by your cloaking device's power source?"

Dukat gave me another smirk.

"Simple. A lead casing enhanced with neutronium." That wasn't physically possible. The cloak wouldn't be able to escape the field to protect the ship. Reacting to the glare that plastered my face, the Gul let out a laugh. "You really are just melodramatic Vulcans! Don't look so betrayed, pretty girl. If you recall, I never agreed to answer truthfully."

Touché.

"No, I suppose you didn't," I replied attempting to act as though I was partially defeated. It never hurt to throw your enemy off-balance every once and a while. "However, I believe it's time for you to hold up the second part of your agreement."

The Cardassian practically vibrated in his seat as I started to unfasten my tunic. Hunger rolled off him in waves with every inch of newly-exposed skin. Tangling my fingers in his dark, surprisingly silky hair, I tugged backward sharply so that he was forced to look into my eyes as I straddled his lap.

"Don't forget who's in charge, Gul," I murmured, but he just let out a low chuckle.

"Oh, believe me, Major..." he began, and within a blink I found myself on my back with Dukat kissing and biting his way down my chest, "I'm fully aware of who's calling the shots here. Are you?"

How had he manged to remove the restraints without me noticing?! Reaching for the distruptor on my hip, I found that he'd already torn it from its holster and tossed it across the room.

"Now, now, no need for that. I'm not going to hurt you, remember? Relax, Major," he crooned before swirling his tongue around one of my nipples and brushing my uniform to the side. "Give in to your curiosity. Let yourself experience what it means to be with the best..."

Dukat's continued arrogance was laughable, but the only sound that escaped me as he dragged my pants down was a moan. Beneath the sensation of his tongue dancing through my lower lips, I acknowledged somewhat vaguely that the Gul hadn't been exaggerating. If he was good enough, maybe I'd convince my superiors to keep him alive as a prisoner of the Tal Shiar.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[merakiui]

OH MY GOD THE ORIGINAL CONCEPT IS SO SO GOOD BUT ALSO HELLO THE TAGS?? IM HEARING YOU LOUD N CLEAR [c,, can we please hear some more about incel azul pretty please 🛐🛐]

Yes, allow me to share some thoughts!!! >:)

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, lots of self-loathing from azul, female reader, misogyny, incel behaviors, mention of implied non-con, stalking, obsession, for the sake of this pretend nrc isn't an all-boys university orz)

Incel!Azul is really, really hateful. Not only does he hate himself and his inability to effortlessly charm other mers like some of his peers, he hates their confidence, their attractive qualities, their slim bodies, their flashy tails, their pretty smiles. He hates all of it. But what he hates most of all is you, that sweet, pretty octo-mer who was so perfect in every way. If Azul is meant to be the monster and the moon, then you are the hero and the sun, a polar opposite in comparison to him. You're the one with a lot of friends. You're the one with the nice voice. You're the one who can swim fast and skillfully. You're the one who doesn't cry or ink uncontrollably like he does. You're so bright and happy and pretty.

Back when the two of you were attending the same school, everyone seemed to like you while they all turned their dislike on him. You'd get your fair share of confessions and gifts, and Azul witnessed all of it from the sidelines, silently loathing you and your popularity. How could anyone like you when you were just as ugly as him! The two of you are the same species, and yet it was he who was treated like the monstrosity. It was never fair. He hates it.

Despite the fact that you'd always publicly turn these confessions down, Azul thinks you might have accepted them in private. Sure, he doesn't have any solid proof to back up that theory, but he just knows you let those mers fuck you silly after classes had ended and you'd drag them off to all the places that became known for lewd activities. Places Azul has never been to, but he's overheard plenty of stories. That haunted shipwreck that's seen more sexual activity than paranormal activity. The coral reefs or the rocks or the sea trenches, dark, cramped spaces perfect for curling into one another. He's certain you've left your mark on every area.

When the school had its annual dance and you chose to go with a group of friends instead of the few mers who attempted to ask you out, he was filled with so much anger. How dare you have the luxury of that choice when he's always so alone. How dare you get to pick through various suitors while he's never even held hands with anyone before. How dare you get to exist happily as the same species while he's forever stuck in misery, constantly bullied solely for being alive. How dare you.

Spring is a very important time for merfolk. Lots of them set off in search of mates, some of them depart with their lifelong partner, and others prepare themselves to lay eggs, to be filled with eggs, to kiss and touch and hold their true love. Azul always thought he'd find his true love like in the storybooks, but after being told countless times that he's too ugly, too fat, too gross, too weird, too much of a crybaby he's begun to doubt his dreams. Every spring, Azul would pay close attention to you. Somehow you always seemed far more prettier in the spring, but that could just be because he was looking at you in less-than-innocent ways. Someone as perfect as you would never want to mate with him. His classmates were right when they said all of his young would probably be eaten before any of them could even brave the cruel waters of the Coral Sea because they all came from the weak, gross, squishy, clumsy Azul. Still, he'd watch you as you interacted with the many friends who surround you, wondering if a miracle might bless him and make him more attractive so that you'd finally, finally look his way. And maybe then, in the far-off future, he might spend spring with you.

You tried to approach Azul once. When you'd first transferred in and had learned there was another octo-mer just like you attending classes, you'd been eager to befriend him. But the Leech twins had gotten in your way every time, preventing you from even speaking to Azul directly. For that reason, you gave up on your pursuit, coming to the conclusion that the elusive Azul Ashengrotto was simply shy and socially awkward. You'd heard the rumors and the cruel remarks from classmates, and maybe you should've said something to stand up for him. But you were anxious back then. They talked about him so cruelly. If you tried to defend him, wouldn't they just turn their disgust on you? Wouldn't you be bullied next? It was a relief most of your class had accepted you and you'd wanted it to stay that way. So, while Azul was bettering his magical capabilities in order to prove his bullies wrong, you held your tongue and turned a blind eye.

Azul had thought that NRC would be his big break. He'd leave his past under the sea and live on land as a human. He'd expected and looked forward to new beginnings alongside the twins when that mystical carriage had come to pick them up, but what he hadn't expected was that you'd be there with them, a transformation potion already in your grasp. And another thing he hadn't been expecting was how pretty your human form turned out to be. He'd spent a lot of time at that human boot camp with you and the twins, making it his mission to do better than you. He never could surpass you.

Azul tries not to hate you most days, but that becomes impossible once you're enrolled in NRC and you start to make lots of friends. While you blossom, Azul spreads his poisonous roots into every relationship he fosters at school. Your relationships are genuine; his are built upon fear, contracts, shady deals, and deceit. Most days he really can't stand you and your carefree nature. But then most days Azul doesn't really know you. He's never really been your friend. He only knows the image you project and the image he projects onto you: the one where you're a little mer-slut who sleeps around with half the school in order to stay popular and loved.

He's cordial to you when the two of you cross paths, when you join him at lunch, when you visit the lounge, but when your back is turned he's gritting his teeth and silently detesting you. Even on land you're accepted. Even as a human you're praised and trusted. Even when he starts anew, you flourish. And he really despises that.

So when he reverts back to his old self, succumbing to the horrors of Overblot, and you're the first one he sees amidst the many students, all cowering or unconscious, he can't stop himself from wrapping a tentacle around your fragile human legs to bring you to him. How dare your friends try to save you. How dare you surround yourself with so much love and goodness. How dare you exist in his world. How dare you, an octo-mer just like him, be treated so kindly. It's not fair. It's never been fair. He hates you and everything that you are.

It isn't in the warm shallows of the sea during spring, but rather the frigid, inky depths of the realm that houses Octavinelle when he decides to permanently mark you as his.

[simqiy]

Spirit description; K’rami

Hello again everyone! It seems spirit description has won the vote again, so today we’re looking into the species of the lightning spirit, K’rami.

Appearance

Due to the very specialised appearance of his species he is practically indistinguishable from the rest.

As likely guessed, he is a Zephyr, however he existed long before the modern ones, where his kind was the apex predator rather than the current omnivore/scavengers.

Ancient zephyrs were ~10x larger than the modern (for reference, modern zephyrs are roughly 1.5x the height of a human on all fours), though still had the same streamlined wyvern appearance.

Due to the conditions in more ancient times, their fur was pure white, except for two black spots, one meant to hide its eyes and the other meant to imitate eyes to confuse other creatures (similar to the way an orca has a white patch near its eye, but less rounded and ending in points). Its fur was also much thicker, as it was designed to withstand colder climates.

Due to its hunter status, its eyes were forward-facing rather than side-facing, and instead of a small claw on the wing for climbing trees, it used to have extra limbs meant to act as a hand so it could hold down and kill any prey it managed to ambush. Its talons were also larger and more closely resembled those of snowy owls.

Due to windy conditions, it also had many more tail feathers, spanning all the way up the tail rather than just the end.

Diet

These predators were big hunters. Unless they were sleeping or guarding a nest, they were out scouting for prey.

Due to limited vision in its environment, it could take multiple days to find something to make a suitable meal.

However, as K’rami is a spirit, he has no need for food. Therefore, he either spends his time sleeping, or restlessly waiting for another spirit to challenge him to fight.

Behaviour

Ancient zephyrs were primarily solitude creatures. The only exception was when they were both weakened by hunger and unable to take down large prey alone. Often, they would fight for the rights to feed after, but in some cases they would mutually share out of respect.

They were creatures of surprise attack, often staying high to keep out of sight and hiding within blizzards or snow storms. If neither were applicable, it would travel higher than usual and hide among the clouds.

Even then, they still had their ability of absorbing lightning from snowstorms. However, instead of a protective layer of feathering to protect themselves, they had more rubbery skin to protect themselves.

However, in cases of fighting for the attention of a mate, it was seen as more attractive to take on the competition head on, as it showed both their strength and boldness.

In K’rami’s case, he still has it in his blood to retreat into the clouds when truly threatened, however in most fights he will take his quarry head on, as a display of his strength and experience.

Habitat

Before the island warmed and supported mostly forests and jungles, most of it was a harsh tundra with mostly grass and the occasional fittings of trees.

Ancient zephyrs were renowned for following or flying inside blizzards, as in the harsh weather, very few creatures would expect a predator waiting to strike.

As for K’rami, he is disappointed by the lack of tundra on the island now, though he has found enjoyment in the dark cover of roofed jungles. Thankfully, his fur cannot become a problem, as temperature no longer applies to him.

That’s all for today, as always, I’m happy to take questions, so ask away!

Either way, have a good day/night everyone, and happy writing!

[aravas-writing]

A venture through the Realms

Chapter 1: The Neanare

Neanare, commonly referred to as fox girls, live in small communities away from large cities. They are seldom seen within a city like Diranis, and usually it is to, in the words of Fradeo Mellys: "indulge in their horrendous, debauched ways and seduce the hapless, the naive and the halfwits, to spirit them away and devour their flesh."

So far the preconceptions. Neanare indeed possess certain characteristics attributed to foxes: they have large, bushy tails and animal ears on top of their head, and tend to be very mischievous. Though to refer to them in such an insulting manner directly would be to court a very bad day.

Mellys is only correct about the fox girls where their appearance and certain race characteristics are concerned. They are an all-female race relying on mating with males of other races to reproduce.

Now, in regards to the real, actual truth, as relayed by someone who has actually met a Neanare in person. They are mischievous and live playing pranks on strangers, though those are almost exclusively meant to confuse them rather than abuse. The latter only happens in cases where the Pranked has earned the ire of the fox girl.

I have been told that Mellys is on a permanent list since the publishing of his book.

The greatest allies of any Neanare in regards to pranking and self defense are their wits and their incredibly powerful magic abilities. However, people who have struck their fancy are spared by their proficiency in illusions.

Neanare court by using their incredible, otherworldly beauty and charm to their advantage. In this case, they much resemble the succubi, with the clear difference that they are less direct. Instead, they utilise speaking in double entendres, close contact and caresses by their tail to attract the attention of their object of desire before luring them to a secluded spot.

Those who may fear being devoured can breathe easier: fox girl society strongly values love in all its forms. Familial, platonic, romantic and erotic love are their core tenets by which they act. Those lured away by a Neanare can, therefore, expect a night of intense passion. The act of leading someone away is considered the invitation; as far as a Neanare is concerned, one accepts if they follow.

Neanare mate for life, though they are known to invite any erstwhile spouses into the relationship, as they consider the act of knowingly stealing a lover away to be abhorrent. Woe betide any who invite the fury of a Neanare: one on the warpath is referred to as a "Kumiho", possibly referring to an ancient ancestor. A Kumiho uses her vast magical potential for destructive purposes, fixated on annihilating the adversary swiftly and mercilessly.

Mellys should, indeed, count his blessings.

This section was possible thanks to the aid of Maxima, a Neanare who had been nothing but helpful in answering my questions. She wants to note that some fox girls are particularly coquettish, displaying signs of affection without actually meaning them. The key difference there appears to be eye contact.

She would also like to add that they eat just about any type of meat that does not stem from a sentient race.

Lastly, she reserves a row of very strong expletives for Fradeo Mellys and takes credit for tearing up his favourite pair of shoes.

----------

And that's it for this one.

[kyoxyukiforever]

The Science of A/B/O

Part 3 - Scents and Pheromones

Part 1 (The Basics), Part 2 (Heats and Ruts), Part 3 (Scents and Pheromones), Part 4 (Mating), Part 5 (Genetics and Presenting)

Warning: sex ed that no one asked for and all that that implies, brief mention of miscarriage

SCENTS!

One of the most prevalent tropes in A/B/O fanfiction is that of scenting, scent glands, and pheromones, but how realistic is it to see those behaviors present in humans? Apparently, pretty realistic!

It turns out that humans actually produce pheromones already - and we can smell them too - albeit to a lesser degree than some animals can. In the real world, it's thought that human pheromones are primarily used to help identify family members. Mothers can identify their babies by smell alone, and on the other side of things, pheromones prevent us from being sexually attracted to our relatives in order to help avoid inbreeding.

Here's the thing though: humans don't have the physiology necessary to experience pheromones the way they're meant to be experienced. The way that pheromones work in animals is actually extremely cool, and you might be surprised by how accurate some fanfiction is in regards to this.

Firstly, just to clarify:

A pheromone is a chemical that an animal produces which changes the behavior of another animal of the same species.

There are a couple different ways that animals detect pheromones. Humans do it using our normal olfactory sense - our regular sense of smell. We process pheromones like any other scent: the main olfactory bulb sends signals to the olfactory cortex.

Animals have a much more advanced - and much more effective - method. They have something called the vomeronasal organ, or VNO for short. Instead of sending signals to the olfactory cortex, the VNO sends signals to the accessory olfactory bulb, to the amygdala, to the bed nucleus of the stria terminalis (BNST), then finally to the hypothalamus. So, even when humans and animals are processing the exact same pheromone, the ways their brains process them are vastly different. When animals process pheromones using their VNO, the reaction is much more noticeable, reflexive, or even involuntary.

That's not to say that humans can't have involuntary responses to pheromones. In fact, this is actually the reason why women's periods 'sync up' when they're around each other often enough. (This phenomenon is actually called the McClintock effect!) The pheromones that we know the most about in humans are 16-Androstenes, which occur in our sweat. Weirdly (and grossly) enough, exposure to androstadienonein, a 16-Androstene present in the armpit sweat of men, women were shown to have improved mood and heightened focus, plus they were more likely to find people attractive!

Now, I know what you're thinking: gross!

But yuck-factor aside, these studies show that humans can have both psychological and physiological responses to pheromones, even without the use of the VNO that animals have.

Only... what if I were to tell you that humans actually do have a VNO?

Don't rush to say I'm contradicting myself just yet! Humans do in fact have a VNO, but it's vestigial. This just means that at some point in our history, humans had a functional VNO, but during the evolutionary process, it lost its function. You know how some human babies are born with vestigial tails? It's a functionless remnant of the tails our primate ancestors had. We can see the VNO in developing human fetuses. In humans, this vestigial organ is called the Jacobson's organ.

If we're already making the leap saying that humans evolved secondary sexes to increase reproduction, saying that an organ which already exists would either retain or recover its function isn't much of a leap at all.

So humans already have pheromones, and we can respond to them even without use of a VNO, which we happen to have anyway!

But that's all the boring, sciencey stuff. How would pheromones really work, practically, in a world with alphas, betas, and omegas? First off, whether or not betas have a functioning VNO is up to the author, although if they are able to reproduce with alphas and omegas, genetics would likely express a functional VNO in betas over time. Still, narratively, this could be the reason betas are less affected by pheromones than their alpha and omega counterparts.

So far, we know of four different types of pheromones: releaser, primer, signaler, and modulator pheromones.

Releaser pheromones elicit an immediate response that is rapid and reliable. In nature, these are the pheromones linked to sexual attraction. This is the smell of an omega in heat or an alpha in rut, designed to entice potential partners.

Primer pheromones take longer to get a response. These guys can alter hormone levels in others, triggering all sorts of things: puberty, periods (or heats!), and even spontaneous abortion of a pregnancy. When trying to conceive, primer pheromones can greatly affect the likelihood of success. This means that if the mating pair are well suited to each other, they're more likely to get pregnant. Or, if you're looking to write some godawful angst, primer pheromones from an alpha looking to mate can actually cause a pregnant individual to miscarry their current fetus, in order to make room for a new one.

An important thing to know about primer pheromones: the reason they take longer to have an effect is because they require prolonged exposure to do anything. A pregnant omega isn't going to smell an alpha in rut and instantly miscarry; they would need to be around the alpha regularly for days or even weeks, depending how far along the pregnancy is. Primer pheromones could also cause omegas' heats to sync up, provided they spend enough time together. They could also potentially cause an alpha's rut to sync up with an omega's heat, before releaser pheromones are even involved.

Insert "You're in heat? No way, I'm in rut!" here.

Signaler pheromones are ever-present, and they simply carry someone's genetic print, mostly so family members can identify each other. When discussing an individual's unique scent, these are the pheromones you're talking about. So if you want a character to smell like lavender or rainwater or... a redwood forest or something, you're describing their signaler pheromones. This also means that relatives likely smell alike. The closer the relation, the more similar the scent.

Modulator pheromones are the ones that most frequently get called pheromones in fanfiction. These are the ones that can affect things like mood, making someone feel relaxed or frightened. The "comforting pheromones" and "dominant pheromones" would be considered modulator pheromones. In nature, when an animal marks its territory, the urine contains modulator pheromones designed to frighten challengers. It's interesting to note that pack animals aren't frightened by the smell of territory marked by a packmate. This means that a smell exuded to scare off one individual might make another individual actually feel safer, provided the second person has a bond of trust with the one doing the big-scary-alpha-smell thing.

Pheromones can also be used to elicit a group response, such as "danger, run away!" or "intruder, attack!" This is why, when you get one wasp angry, the whole friggin' hive comes after you. There's some debate among scientists as to whether these 'group signal' pheromones are releaser or modulator pheromones, and I'm just a dude, so like. I dunno, man. I just thought I'd add this in because it has the potential for interesting pack interactions.

But we aren't done yet!

Just bear with me a little longer, folks. There's just one more thing we have to address in this part of A/B/O Science...

SCENT GLANDS!

First off, let's get this out of the way: the science of scent glands in humans is so underdeveloped that scientists are still debating about whether they even technically exist. What we do know is that we have apocrine sweat glands in certain places, and that the sweat from those glands does contain pheromones. Unfortunately, these glands aren't exactly in the places seen in a/b/o fiction. Instead, these glands are located around the nipples, behind the ears, on the eyelids, and under the armpits.

In a/b/o, the scent glands are located in very different places, as demonstrated by @jar-of-omegaverse in the diagram below.

There are scientists who believe that humans have preputial glands, which are exocrine glands present in the folds of the genital skin in some mammals, but there are just as many scientists who have alternate explanations for the evidence that supporters of this theory cite in their arguments. Basically, this is another thing that I'm not even remotely qualified to comment on.

Now I want you to put all of that on the backburner, because the way scent glands function in fanfiction isn't remotely similar to how they may or may not function in humans. Instead, in the world of A/B/O, scent glands work similarly to how they function in - get this - cats.

If I'm honest, I did not see this coming. I definitely thought the depiction of scent glands would be based on canines, because pretty much all of the animalistic traits we see in A/B/O are! But, uh, nope, it's cats, so let's talk about that.

Canines only really have scent glands located around the anus, and depending on the animal, on the upper side of the base of the tail, and they only really use those glands for marking/claiming purposes. Cats, on the other hand, have sebaceous glands in tons of places, all used for scent communication.

When you look at the graph above, you might notice that these glands are located in all the places cats like to rub against your ankles and furniture. Also, if you've ever had a cat that wanted to scratch up your furniture, this is why. They're just spreading their little toe beans apart so that they can rub the scent glands between the toes on the couch. This is also why cats knead things!

You might be wondering why cats feel the need to scent furniture of all things. It's to mark that an object or area is safe. If you've ever brought a new piece of furniture into your home, you might remember that the cat thoroughly investigated it before scenting it. They're making sure that it isn't a threat to them, or to you. Cats don't seem to know that humans can't really detect their pheromones, and they'll mark things as safe for you - that way you don't need to be afraid of the new La-Z-Boy.

That's not all cats use scenting for - they also use pheromones to mark something as belonging to them, to indicate how they're feeling, to self-soothe, to soothe others, to show dominance or submission, to request something, to form or strengthen bonds, and yes, to show affection.

Yet another interesting pack dynamic is the concept of developing a 'group scent.' Cats will rub against their loved ones frequently enough that the group will develop a cohesive group smell. This way individuals both in and outside of the group can identify not only the individual, but also the group they belong to. I'm actually fascinated by the idea of someone joining a pack and everyone they walk past knowing exactly which pack it is, especially if no one would expect them to be a part of said pack.

All this said, the locations of scent glands in A/B/O fiction don't have any basis in existing animal biology, human or otherwise. The reasoning behind the location of the gland on the neck actually leads us into our next topic:

Mating.

...things are about to get messy, guys.

Part 1 (The Basics), Part 2 (Heats and Ruts), Part 3 (Scents and Pheromones), Part 4 (Mating), Part 5 (Genetics and Presenting)

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Drown In My Desire

also on ao3

written for the Monster March prompt list prompt: siren pls see ao3 for the full list of tags, this is... something edit: some formatting got fucked up and I had to make some adjustments, sorry if there are any wonky bits now 😅

Geralt is barely off the boat back from Skellige when he hears about the contract. There's a lone Siren causing trouble along one of the trading routes; drawing the ships closer until they wreck on the jagged rocks of the bay. The fishermen complain loudly about it as he disembarks and as soon as his feet hit dry land, Geralt makes straight for them. It's basic Siren behaviour, likely to be an easy job and then back on his way.

The men are offloading barrels and Geralt keeps out of the way as he approaches the one giving orders.

"Heard you've got a Siren problem," he says and the man straightens up to look him over.

"Aye, we do. You're a Witcher, right? You'll take care of it for us?"

"What are you offering?"

"Godsdamn anything at this point. Things wrecked six shops, we've lost 11 good men, countless hours of labour... Name your price, Witcher, we'll pay it."

"Five hundred," Geralt suggests.

"Fine by me. Bring back proof of the kill and you'll get your coin."

"Agreed." Normally, Geralt would request half in advance, but he's dealt with Novigradian merchants before and they're reputable and trustworthy most of the time. Plus, this is a simple contract, probably not even worth the 500 he asked for.

He stays to get the rest of the details from the merchant, then heads into town to rent a room at the Kingfisher. He won't be in town long, but he may as well have somewhere comfortable to sleep when he inevitably comes back cold and wet.

Geralt bribes a local fisherman to take him out to the bay or as close to it as possible - no one will go right in any longer. They moor on the far side and Geralt disembarks, thanking the man and paying him a generous fee for his service. He didn't have to bring him out here, and many other men wouldn't dare go this far.

He hears the song immediately and it makes him pause. Geralt has heard the Siren song before, has even fallen under its spell in the past, and this is not it. This is a Siren, for sure, and he is singing, but his song is... sad. Geralt frowns as he makes his way over the swell of the hill, the beach sprawling out before him in a wide arc.

It's sandy, devoid of rocks and debris but the tide is down and large, jagged rocks break the surface of the water. Waves roll up gently onto the shore and Geralt scans the shoreline, looking for any sign of the Siren. The song is coming from the far side of the small bay, but he sees nothing.

Readjusting the belts across his chest, he makes his way down to the beach and across the sand.

He spots him shortly, tucked under a shelf of rock out of the sun, curled around himself. Geralt thinks at first, that he may be injured, hence the despair in his song, but as he approaches he recognizes a sense of desperation in the tune. Approaching further, he catches the creature's interest and he looks up at him, his confusion a mixture of desperation and fear and resignation. Geralt looks him over as he approaches, not trusting the Siren not to jump out and attack. He knows well enough they're crafty and wouldn't stop short of setting a trap in dire situations.

But when Geralt is within a few feet, the Siren still makes no sign of wanting to hurt him. If anything, he looks miserable to have been discovered and Geralt does a quick once-over for injuries. There are none visible, but as the Siren unfurls himself, stretching out to his full length, Geralt pauses.

He doesn't know a lot about Siren anatomy past what a sorcerer will pay for what, but he's seen enough pricks in his life to know one when he sees it.

Jaskier whines internally and shuts up as soon as he sees the figure approaching. He was trying to attract... well, not him. Not a Witcher. He needs someone to solve his problem, not to be killed as the solution to someone else’s. But maybe that would be better than going through this every five years out here alone. Maybe the Witcher will be kind and put him out of his misery and then- well, at least he wouldn't be stuck here on his own like this.

But the man approaches and doesn't do anything. He just looks, walking closer until Jaskier could nearly reach out and touch him. Slowly, as non-threateningly as he can, he uncoils himself to prove he's not a threat. His cock aches and he's reminded of the fact that it's very blatantly on display, but that's the least of his problems now.

"You're the one who's been wrecking ships?" the Witcher asks and well, yes, Jaskier assumes that's his fault.

He's seen the wreckage washing up on shore, seen the men floating lifeless amongst the waves. He tries to help, but in this state, it's impossible to do much before the burning need overtakes him again and he's rendered useless.

"I didn't-" he starts, but he doesn't think a Witcher will care whether he meant to or not. He just wants a companion, wants someone to help ease this ache as his own attempts aren't helping any longer, he didn't mean for the humans to get in the way.

"Didn't what?"

"Didn't mean for them to get hurt." Jaskier doesn't look at him, but the Witcher is quiet for some time and then,

"It’s... a mating song?" he guesses and something in Jaskier’s stomach twists uncomfortably that he could figure it out so quickly. Jaskier avoids his eyes looking instead at the way the sand coats the toes of his boots.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Jaskier's head snaps up at that and he looks the Witcher dead in the eye. He's never heard of a monster being given a chance to tell their side of the story, to redeem themself. The Witcher drops to the sand, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his thighs.

"I-" Jaskier starts, unsure if this is some sort of twisted game. "I just- I was hoping someone might be nearby to hear-" he feels pathetic, his only consolation the fact that the Witcher doesn't know that he came here willingly, he left his family willingly to go out and explore the vast oceans and now he’s miserable.

"How long have you been here?" the Witcher asks, "you've never caused problems before now."

"Before now I wasn't-" he rolls his eyes in frustration at himself, slapping his tail against the sand. "Sirens," he starts again, "go through cycles. I'm in heat and I'm alone and every attempt I've made to reach out has only ended in ruin." Jaskier scowls at his own confession.

"I tried to help," he adds solemnly, "I just... I can't focus, I don't have the strength to pull them to the surface- I tried," he persists, "but I'm not much use like this." His cock aches and he groans at the timing. "I hardly think that deserves a death sentence." He wraps his tail protectively around himself, hiding the evidence of his situation.

"Not here to hurt you," the Witcher explains, "just here to keep people from dying. I could... help?"

Jaskier starts at the offer, his wings snapping tight against his back. "What do you mean, help?"

The Witcher huffs a light laugh and Jaskier tries not to be too hopeful. He's never strayed beyond his race, though he knows many who have and if he were to, well, the Witcher isn't awful to look at. In fact, Jaskier thinks, taking in his shining golden eyes and shock-white hair tied back in a loose bun, he’s quite lovely.

"Now, I know you're not stupid," the Witcher says, almost sounding amused. "The offer’s there. I'll help if you stop with the singing."

Maybe it's the need coursing through him, or maybe it's the fact that no one has ever been so kind to him before, or maybe there's just something about this man's smile that makes him weak. Jaskier agrees.

"Not here," he says. "Can you swim?" The Witcher cocks an eyebrow at him. "I'd prefer not to have to do this out in the open where anyone could just wander upon us. I do have some sense of decorum."

"Where are we going?"

"Home," Jaskier says simply. "It's not far." He shifts in the sand, sitting up and gesturing out toward the sea. "A human could make the swim, surely a Witcher can as well."

"Fair enough. I'm Geralt, by the way. And I can swim."

"Jaskier."

He squirms in the sand, trying to force his cock to withdraw, but it's no use. Geralt rises, kicking off his boots and removing his gear, tucking it away into a crevice in the rock. He bends down, scooping Jaskier into his arms. It's a shock and Jaskier is helpless to do anything but wind his arms around Geralt's neck and hold on, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the way his cock juts out obscenely, betraying him.

Geralt walks into the waves, releasing Jaskier as soon as the water is up to his waist. He holds his breath, lets Jaskier take his hand, and follows him down beneath the surf. Jaskier feels marginally better out of the sun and sand, in the cool water, but not much. He swims quickly, eager to return home and get on with... whatever Geralt has in mind to help.

He ducks into the narrow tunnel, dropping Geralt's hand and gesturing for him to follow behind. He does, and Jaskier leads the way back to an underwater cave. Glowing coral grows near the ledge of rock, where the water gives way to open air again. It gives off a little light, but Jaskier can see perfectly well and he knows Witchers have night vision.

He slips up onto the stony cave floor and offers a webbed hand to Geralt as he breaks the surface. To Geralt's credit, he only seems a little out of breath as he's hauled up out of the water.

Jaskier flops back on his side, watching the way Geralt rises to his feet, tugging his soaked shirt off and wringing the water from it. His trousers remain in place and Jaskier finds himself disappointed, curious to see what's hidden beneath. But this isn't a fun romp for the sake of it; this is an agreement, Geralt is simply doing him a favour.

When he seems pleased with the state of his shirt, Geralt lays it out and lies down next to him, lining his body up with Jaskier's. He's... stunning up close and it takes more of his effort than it should not to simply reach out and touch him just for the sake of it. He remembers fucking other Sirens, the touching, the press of bodies - he misses it, and he finds himself wishing this was something more than a simple favour. But that's selfish; Geralt is already offering him so much, for so little in return and nothing, even, for himself.

"You'll have to walk me through it," Geralt says with a smile, "I've never fucked a Siren before."

"Oh. You can just... touch me?" Jaskier says and Geralt reaches out tentatively, slipping a hand over the swell of his hip.

"Like this?"

Jaskier nods. It's not exactly what he wants, but it does feel nice and he's not about to try and direct. Geralt's hesitation is short-lived and he slides his hand up Jaskier's chest, brushing his thumb over a nipple and Jaskier's breath catches. He watches the movement of Geralt's hand as his fingers press into his skin, warm, despite the swim through cool water.

He shifts slightly, leaning up on one arm and pressing back down, over the swell of Jaskier's hip and he tugs him forward before abruptly before dragging his fingers up the length of Jaskier's swollen cock. He's slow, but delicate like he's learning his way around, but it feels incredible and it's hard for Jaskier not to just thrust up into the touch and take the pleasure from his hands.

Geralt's fingers slip over the ridge at the base of him, curling around him beneath it and squeezing as he pulls up over it.

"What is this?" he asks. He sounds intrigued, curious, and Jaskier can't help but indulge him.

"'S hard to fuck underwater," he hums, moaning as Geralt's fingers reach the tip of his cock. One dips into the slit, pressing against it, and Jaskier whimpers. "Keeps me from... slipping out." The noise Geralt makes in response is hard to determine, but it sounds interested. He moves his hand back down to squeeze around the ring.

His fingers slip over the swell of skin, pressing against it and running his thumb along the edge. He likes it, Jaskier realizes. It prods at something inside him and he presses his hips forward encouragingly.

"Does that feel good?" Geralt asks and Jaskier nods, pressing his forehead against his arm to keep from moaning out loud. He wants to show his appreciation, wants Geralt to know he can do as he pleases with him, but he doesn't want to push too hard.

Geralt’s light touches grow bolder, pressing more firmly, jerking him quickly and firmly and as Jaskier whines and squirms beneath him, Geralt grows more confident. His fingers slip down, pressing between the folds of his sheath, pressing right down to the base of his cock and within. No one has touched him like this before, the sharp jab of a Siren's claws not conducive to pressing inside.

Something warm spreads through his chest and he finds himself pulling away, embarrassed by how vulnerable he suddenly feels letting a stranger touch him this way, a Witcher no less. Immediately, Geralt withdraws his hands and the look on his face implies worry.

"Sorry," he blurts, then softer, "tell me if it's too much."

"No, I just. No one's ever-"

"I'll stop."

"No," Jaskier says again, a little too abruptly. "No, it was good, it just... caught me off guard." Geralt doesn't wait to be told twice, but his fingers move more slowly as they slip back into place at the base of his cock. Jaskier gives a little thrust on encouragement and Geralt presses his palm against him, giving him something to rut against while he explores.

Jaskier rocks against him, burying his face in his arm as the need takes over. Given an inch, he's no longer able to control himself, so needy for it that he's invited a perfect stranger into his home to fuck him. But Geralt doesn't seem to mind his desperation, doesn't mention it. He picks up quickly on Jaskier's most sensitive spots, going back to rub over them, pressing his thumb beneath the swollen ring and Jaskier's mind goes blank with the pleasure of it.

He's never noticed how sensitive it is there; the use of hands in Siren coupling is rare and limited to squeezing and jerking, not prodding and rubbing like Geralt does so easily. It's hardly Jaskier's fault that he can't contain himself in the face of this new, wonderful sensation.

The swell of his climax creeps up on him slowly, his mind too preoccupied with where Geralt's fingers are and what they're doing. It's not until Geralt wraps around the base of him, pushing as far into his sheath as his fingers with reach, that Jaskier realizes how close he is. His hips jerk hard and Geralt's other hand shoots out to steady him, holding him close as Jaskier writhes against him.

There's not much else he can do like this, just squirm and try to press as much of his cock against Geralt's palm as he can. Otherwise, he's under Geralt's control, letting him do what he wants, take him apart as he will. Geralt's thumb presses along the underside of his cock, pressing up toward the tip and Jaskier jerks hard as his orgasm washes over him, spilling over Geralt's hand and up his arm.

His hips twitch, cocking slipping easily against Geralt's arm with his own spend to slick the way. He'd be embarrassed, coming so quickly with so little stimulation to anything but his cock, but Geralt hums, sounding very pleased.

He continues touching him, fingers slipping through his spend and using it as slick, rubbing down the full length of him and rubbing against the slit at the tip.

"Good?" he asks and Jaskier can only nod and whimper, still struggling to catch his breath.

Geralt leans in, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck abruptly and Jaskier shifts onto his back to allow him better access. He likes the warmth of Geralt's breath on his neck, the soft press of his lips and the occasional flick of his tongue against his skin. Geralt says nothing as his kisses become firmer, pressing down the column of his throat and down his chest.

His hand remains on Jaskier's cock, stroking slowly as he kisses down the length of his body, not even pausing as pale skin gives way to shimmering scales. He seems unbothered by it and Jaskier likes the feeling of his lips on his tail. Geralt doesn't release his cock until he's moved fully down the length of Jaskier's body, straddling the end of his tail.

Geralt kisses around the base of his cock, not touching it but for the barest brush of his cheek as he passes. Jaskier holds his breath in anticipation, arching off the bed with each kiss that gets closer to where he wants it. When Geralt's lips finally press against him, he lets out a strangled groan and arches off the ground, hands immediately and automatically groping for Geralt's shoulder.

Geralt kisses up the length of him, teasing the tip with his tongue before moving back down again. Jaskier wants his mouth, wants to feel that wet heat around him, so different than the cool touch of one of his own kind. It wouldn't be the first time he's had a mouth around his cock, but he's used to sharp teeth, to slow and cautious strokes. When Geralt gets his mouth around him, he's anything but.

The moment Geralt's lips wrap around him, quick and eager, sliding his tongue over him and pressing his lips in close, holding him tight as he sinks right to the base. His tongue presses in where his fingers had been and Jaskier knows now that he likes exploring, likes discovering what makes Jaskier squirm and taking advantage of it. And he's incredibly good at it.

His fingers that had, up until now, been happily settled on his hips, push up to brush against his skin. One hand remains, seeking out the smallest part of his waist and settling in the dip as the other moves down again. Jaskier's foggy mind suggests that he intends to wrap around the base of his cock, but Geralt gets distracted somewhere between. His fingers pass over Jaskier’s slit and he pauses. Slowly, Gerlt lifts his head, licking up the length of Jaskier's cock and looking at the opening beneath his fingers.

"Can I?" he asks and Jaskier nods.

This is... new. He knows for women it can be pleasurable to be touched this way, but he's never had anyone do it to him. As a child, they told stories about men who fucked each other like this, the way they fuck women, but Jaskier had been young and naive and passed them off as nothing but stories. He'd never found anyone who wanted to touch him that way and had assumed, like most things children talk about, it was a rumour.

But Geralt's fingers tease the opening and sparks rush over his skin. Jaskier's cock throbs and he pushes himself up to watch. Geralt catches his eyes for a brief moment, before dropping back to his work and pushing inside.

"Oh," he breathes, "you're wet." Jaskier squirms, as his body gives way to Geralt's finger, quickly joined by a second.

As with everything, he moves slowly at first, pushing deep and rubbing into him. It feels good, much better than Jaskier could have expected and then Geralt bumps against something inside him and Jaskier cries out, digging his claws into Geralt's shoulder.

When he realizes what he's done, he releases him quickly, but Geralt seems unfazed and he's smiling when he meets Jaskier's eyes again.

"You like that?" he asks and Jaskier lets out a breathy, yes. Geralt grins at him and ducks down to wrap his lips around the tip of Jaskier's cock.

Geralt's fingers work in time with his mouth, picking up speed as Jaskier's groans become more frequent, less controlled. It doesn't take him long like this, with his cock slipping down Geralt's throat and Geralt's fingers constantly pressing against whatever that is inside him that feels so fucking good.

He comes with a gasp as Geralt thrusts up into him again and Geralt makes no attempt to keep him from pushing his cock deeper into his throat. If anything, he seems glad for it, and when Jaskier slumps back against the ground again, Geralt pulls off his cock with slow precision, careful to wrap his lips tightly around the head. Jaskier's eyes drop shut and his chest heaves, but he's aware of Geraly lying back down next to him.

"That felt... good."

"No one has ever touched you like this?" Geralt asks lightly. Jaskier waves a clawed hand at him in response. "Mmm, understandable. But you liked it?" Jaskier huffs a tired laugh and turns to face him.

"Very much."

"Can I?" Geralt asks, already sliding slick fingers along his waist.

"Please."

Geralt rises to his knees, straddling Jaskier's hips for a moment before dropping to the ground on the other side of him. He presses right up against him, slipping an arm under his neck and holding him close as his other hand presses flat against Jaskier's stomach, sliding downward. He crooks two fingers, pushing inside him and seeking out that same spot again.

He finds it with ease and when Jaskier jerks hard, Geralt pulls him in against his chest. He drops his forehead to Jaskier's, breathing hard against him and Jaskier shuts his eyes, letting the pleasure wash over him. Geralt thrusts into him, quick and precise, then slows to tease at the opening, fingers slipping slowly in and out, and Jaskier can't decide which he likes more.

When he's quick, it punches the breath out of him, leaves him mindless and aching for more, but then he slows, gently caresses and rubs into him and it's like a slow fire burning within him, gradually burning brighter. His mind goes blank, foggy with lust, and he wraps himself around Geralt's shoulders, drawing him close. Even with Jaskier wrapped around him, he never falters and before long Jaskier is writhing again, his tail slapping hard against the floor as pleasure courses through him.

He's overwhelmed, so entirely encompassed by pleasure that he can't do more than cling to Geralt and whimper until, at last, he comes, his cock untouched where it spurts over his hip.

Slick drips from his slit, mixing with his come and Geralt pulls out slowly, swiping his fingers through it and sliding them around Jaskier's cock. He cries out at the first touch, oversensitive from multiple consecutive orgasms, but it still feels good underneath the sensitivity and he can't bring himself to tell Geralt to stop.

When Geralt finally lets him go, Jaskier flops onto his back and stares up at him. Geralt is watching him, his eyes dark but bright, and he smiles. Unthinking, Jaskier reaches up, wrapping one hand around Geralt's cheek and tugging him down toward him. At the last second, he realizes what he's doing and hesitates, but Geralt closes the distance, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss.

It doesn't last long and Jaskier has to keep himself from nipping at his lips when they part. Geralt presses up close and for the first time, he feels the hard line of Geralt's cock beneath his trousers and it makes his breath catch. For a moment, he just stares at him, enthralled by the idea that Geralt is turned on by this.

"You're... aroused?" he asks and Geralt huffs a soft laugh.

"I'm fine."

"Could I touch you?"

"Mmm, if you like."

Jaskier grins, shifting onto his side and pushes Geralt over. He laughs and goes easily, watching as Jaskier spreads a hand over his chest. He maps out the planes of his chest, pushing clawed fingers through soft chest hair before dragging them lightly down toward the hem of his trousers.

He rakes his eyes over the jut of Geralt's cock, but doesn't touch, afraid of pushing too far. A favour, he reminds himself, Geralt is doing him a favour here. So he slips his hand back up to his stomach, mimicking the way Geralt touched him at first, exploring the little dips and rises in his skin, careful not to catch his claws.

And when he looks up to him again, Geralt is watching him. Something in the way he looks at him makes Jaskier's chest tight and he dips down again, catching Geralt's lips in a kiss. Geralt kisses back with enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around so he can pull Jaskier on top of him.

Both hands move down, cupping the swell of Jaskier's tail and rocking him slowly forward. Jaskier's cock, still sensitive, presses against Geralt's through the rough fabric of his trousers. He hisses at the drag, but Geralt moans at the friction and the sound goes straight through him. This time, Jaskier does it on purpose.

They find an easy rhythm between the two of them and even with Geralt's trousers in the way, the sensitivity soon gives way to pleasure and Jaskier ruts against him, kissing him hard despite the lingering fear that he'll bite too hard. Geralt however, seems unconcerned. He's got one hand buried in Jaskier's hair, the other pressing between them, fumbling with the buttons on his trousers. It takes him a moment, but he gets them undone, finally pulling his cock free and Jaskier groans as he ruts against him.

Geralt is hot, his cock even more so, and Jaskier basks in the warmth, pressing himself closer, even with Geralt’s hand still between them. He's sure he could come just like this, happy to rut against him, but then Geralt's fingers are pressing against his slit again. His fingers come away slick and he winds his hand around Jaskier's cock, stroking him slowly.

"What do you need?" he asks and Jaskier whimpers.

"What you did before," he breathes, "could you... do that again?" In an instant, Geralt flips him onto his back again, dragging his fingers up to his slit, but Jaskier stops him. "Could you... with your cock?"

"Oh. Fuck, yeah."

Geralt shifts, pushing his trousers down and kicking them off before pressing up close again. He pulls Jaskier into a deep kiss, his hand sliding away to bring his hips closer. He ruts against him, pushing through the slick and come and when he catches on Jaskier's slit, Jaskier lets out a little gasp and grasps at Geralt's shoulders.

Geralt pushes forward pressing into him and Jaskier holds his breath as he stretches open on his cock. Geralt's eyelids flutter as he settles and then he rocks forward, slowly at first, just short little thrusts that leave Jaskier aching, pushing himself onto him, wanting more.

And Geralt gives it to him. He sinks deep, hooking a knee over Jaskier's hip to hold him close as he ruts, his cock pressed firmly against that spot that makes him wild. Jaskier bucks and whines, his own cock slipping against Geralt's with every thrust. He delights in the feeling of Gerslt inside him, of his warmth and the stretch of his cock, sliding into him and filling him wholly.

He's surprised to find Geralt as breathless as he is when he looks up at him and he can't help but tip forward and nip at his lower lip. Geralt groans and kisses him hard. He pushes him onto his back so he's straddling his hips and when he sits back, Jaskier's cock presses between his cheeks.

He rocks his hips, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat around his cock and Geralt shudders as he pushes back against him. His eyes flick up to Jaskier's and he licks his lips.

"Can I try something?" he asks and Jask nods enthusiastically.

Geralt withdraws immediately, pressing his fingers into Jaskier's slit. When he withdraws, he reaches behind himself, and Jaskier burns to know what he's doing, but the slick fingers wrap around his cock, and Geralt sits back on him. Jaskier groans low as Geralt's body engulfs him, heat seeping into every inch where they touch and he reaches out, fingers digging into his thighs, so careful not to leave scratches.

Geralt rocks back onto him, taking the full length of Jaskier's cock and grinding back against him. He rolls his hips and squeezes around him, pulling right up to the tip before dropping back down the length on him. Jaskier is breathless, helpless to do anything but squeeze Geralt's thighs and bite his own lip.

Tentatively, he wraps one hand around Geralt's cock, slipping webbed fingers over the head of his cock. Geralt moans softly, sliding one hand over Jaskier's and guiding it down. Jaskier nearly stops breathing as the head of Geralt's cock nudges against his slit and then he's sliding in again, filling him up even as he squeezes around Jaskier's cock.

It's so much. Jaskier's body sings with the twin pleasures of being filled so wholly and sinking into Geralt himself as he shifts his hips up.

"Fuck" he groans and Geralt drapes himself over his chest, kissing the moan from his lips.

He finds a rhythm, a careful balance that keeps them joined in both places and Jaskier has never felt such overwhelming pleasure in his life. He meets Geralt's thrusts, thrusting in deep as Geralt sinks into him and it's hardly surprising when he finds himself creeping close to the edge. Geralt's thighs shake around him and he wants to hold out, to make Geralt comes first, but Geralt reaches up, nipping at the sensitive skin over his throat and the pleasure that zips through him is too much.

His hips snap up hard and Geralt kisses him through it, deep and hard, his whole body arching against him. He follows shortly, burying himself deep in Jaskier's body and rutting into him urgently. The moans and pleas that drop from his lips do nothing to ease Jaskier's persistent erection, but as Geralt slumps against him, Jaskier feels the exhaustion creeping in.

Geralt, too, seems tired and Jaskier withdraws reluctantly, mourning the loss of Geralt's body around him. His cock remains stubbornly hard, still unsheathed, but the aching desperation wore off some time ago and he flings himself into the water, quickly rubbing himself down to prevent waking up sticky and uncomfortable. A moment later there's a splash as Geralt rolls off the ledge next to him.

He swims closer enough for Jaskier to reach him and he makes a point of wiping Geralt down first before wrapping a hand around his cock and sliding slowly. Geralt's eyes drop shut and he winds his arms around Jaskier's neck with a soft, shuddering moan.

"How long does this usually last?" he asks and Jaskier shrugs.

"Anywhere from a week to six."

Geralt gawks at him. "Six weeks?"

"On and off," Jaskier huffs, amused. "I don't swim around with an exposed prick for six weeks. And besides. It's usually two, though it is much more in much more... concentrated bursts."

"Meaning I should stick around?"

Jaskier's heart thuds heavily at the suggestion which is, realistically, ridiculous. He's known Geralt for all of a few hours and under normal circumstances, the man would have just killed him. But the idea of keeping him close spreads warmth through his chest.

"You don't have to," he says anyway. "You kept up your end of the deal. I'll be quiet."

"Mmm," Geralt agrees, nosing at his neck, "but it'll get bad again. What would you do with no one here to get you through it."

"Are you..." Jaskier starts, hesitant. "Are you saying you want to stay?"

"Maybe not exactly here," Geralt shrugs, "I'd appreciate being warm and dry part of the time. But I don't intend to go far. Maybe I'll camp out on the beach."

"Will you stay for now?" Jaskier asks hopefully.

"Yes."

Jaskier doesn’t acknowledge the way his heart clenches a little. He shouldn’t want Geralt to stay, shouldn’t care what he does with himself now that he’s fulfilled his end of the bargain, but as they finish cleaning up, he seems happy to be there.

Once they're both clean and Geralt has managed to pull another orgasm from him, they settle on the ground, Jaskier curled up around him. His cock rests perfectly against the cleft of Geralt's ass and he has to be careful not to move too much, lest he work himself up again. He spreads one wing out over Geralt, using it as well as he can to keep him warm.

“You should go back,” Geralt says quietly and if Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d say he sounded almost disappointed, “leave here and find more of your kind so you don’t have to suffer alone next time.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Jaskier admits, “but I like it here.”

“Mm,” Geralt hums sleepily, “guess I’ll just have to come back then, hm?”

Five years later…

The need returns, just as it always does, creeping up slowly and then hitting him all at once, but this time it's worse. This time he has the memory of his Witcher, soft and sweet touching him and kissing him and working him through it. And the memory only serves to make the need stronger.

But he made a promise.

So Jaskier holes himself up in his cave and deals with it as well as he can on his own and when that quits working on the first day, Jaskier swims to the surface in the hopes of coming across some other passer-by who might be willing to risk their life to fuck a Siren.

But when he breaches the surface of the water, there's a figure on the beach, moving oddly. He keeps low in the water, just his head breaking the surface and when he gets closer he realizes it's a man taking off his boots. It takes a couple of seconds to register as the man strips completely naked, but as he gets closer, as Jaskier swims further, he recognizes him. There's a swell of something warm and pleasant that settles in his chest and his heart beats just a fraction too quickly.

Geralt came back for him.

[shadows-and-science-gone-mad]

North Africa. 95,000,000 BCE.

The hot midday sun beats down upon a vast tidal plain. Though this region of the world will one day become the Sahara Desert, one of the driest places in the world, in the mid-Cretaceous, it is a lush saltwater swamp, home to all manner of fish, reptiles, and dinosaurs. And some of the dinosaurs that call this swamp home are among the largest creatures to ever walk the earth.

A thunderous footstep heralds the arrival of a Paralititan. Its massive head and neck tower four meters above the tops of the mangrove trees around it. Its legs are thicker than the trunks of the trees themselves, and its body so vast that it plays host to its own self-contained ecosystem.

Normally, Paralititan travels in huge multigenerational herds, roaming the swamplands, stripping them of vegetation. But, this old male is on his own. He has wandered off to die.

The giant’s grey-green flesh seems to pulsate with each thundering footfall. His skin crawls with countless parasitic insects, and even a small pterosaur who has already begun picking at a particularly rancid scab. Although he is still alive, if only just, he is so incomprehensibly ancient that the flesh has already begun to decompose from his bones. Everywhere he goes, the unmistakeable stench of rot follows.

This is something that the local carnivores have picked up on.

A pair of Rugops trail behind the dying sauropod. Though these 6-meter abelisaurs are plenty fierce, their snub-nosed skulls are far too delicate to risk attacking such a mighty adversary. So, Rugops has taken up a niche something like a jackal — harrying weak or dying animals until they succumb to their exhaustion. While it has meant that they do not reach the same large sizes of their cousins in South America, this lifestyle has served Rugops well, and allowed them to survive for millions of years.

The presence of such scavengers is exactly the reason why the dying Paralititan has wandered off on his own. While his brain is diminutive compared to his sixty-ton body, his instincts still tell him to protect the next generation, even in his dying moments. The death of a creature of his size will attract every carnivorous animal for miles. Even with as much flesh is available on his body, it seems almost certain that some of the bloodlust-fueled scavengers will turn on the living herd members. By splitting off from them at the moment of his passing, he greatly reduces that risk.

He stops in his tracks. His great ribcage shudders with his wavering breath. With a final booming gasp, his right foreleg gives way, and the giant collapses. In a great cacophony of splintering trees and splashing water, he falls to the ground, his enormous body shaking the earth when it hits. He is not entirely dead, but he no longer has the strength to stand. The last thing he sees as his synapses fire a final time is the shape of the Rugops pair rushing his fallen body.

The Rugops waste no time in attacking the carcass. The larger male jumps onto the sauropod’s flank, slipping in the accumulated muck before finding his footing. He rips at the thick skin with his toe claws, tearing a hole that he can fit his bulldog-snout into. Once he’s in, he begins his macabre feast. Rugops’ neck is slightly longer than that of its close relatives, so, despite his short jaws, he is still able to reach his head fairly deep into the carcass, and access the more nutritious meat within.

His mate doesn’t waste unnecessary energy creating her own opening. Instead, she simply finds a wound — the same one the pterosaur already opened — and uses that as her entry point.

The two abelisaurs feed for quite some time on the titanosaur’s fetid body. Suddenly, a deep, bassy, almost industrial sound echoes from the trees. They stop eating, putrid flesh still hanging from their jaws, and turn to the direction of the sound.

From out of the brush, another theropod emerges. Nearly three times larger than the Rugops, its scaly hide glittering an iridescent blue. Its enormous boxy head is almost the size of a Rugops’ ribcage, and is packed with teeth the size and shape of steak knives.

Carcharodontosaurus.

It opens its massive jaws, flashing its teeth and emitting another ear-splitting bellow. The Rugops turn to flee, the male slipping once more on the slick hide of the carcass. He falls into the swampy muck with a wet splash, narrowly avoiding the Carcharodontosaurus’ snapping jaws. The two abelisaurs high-tail it away from the scene, as the newcomer claims their quarry.

The Carcharodontosaurus lifts one of its feet, and firmly plants it on the dead Paralititan’s belly, digging in its claws to ensure a steady grip. It leans down, extending its mouth to the widest gape it can muster. The knife-like teeth sink into the meat with almost no effort, and the giant carnivore pulls back its head, slicing out a mammoth hunk of flesh, which it proceeds to swallow whole.

Attracted by the sounds of the commotion, a few more Rugops and a Deltadromeus, a fleet-footed cousin of the Jurassic Allosaurus, have also arrived at the killsite. The Carcharodontosaurus momentarily pauses in its savage gluttony to roar at the smaller carnivores. They turn and run, just like the Rugops pair before, but they do not stray far. Content at their distance, the apex predator resumes its feeding.

There is plenty of food for all of them, but they will have to wait their turn.

[yandere-daydreams]

Kinktober - Day Five

Prompt: Gun-Play

Pairing: Captain!Leona/Reader

TW: Pirate AU, Implied Future Non-Con, Violence, Recklessly Handled Firearms, Slight Degradation, and Mentions of Death.

“That’s an awfully pretty face for a ship rat.”

You felt something metallic run across your cheek, sleek and smooth and frigid as it pushed against your skin, intricate carvings and the bite of wooden accents serving as the only reprieves to the constant chill. It took most of your self-control not to shudder, not to shake under the weight of the cold and the captain’s pointed stare, never wavering as his muzzle prodded at the side of your face, forcing you to tilt your head to the side or risk allowing him to be a little rougher, to be a little more careless. You didn’t know much about flintlocks - it wouldn’t be a stretch to say you didn’t know anything - but you didn’t have to. By way of greeting, he’d sat you down in one of the few chairs surrounding a low table towards the center of his quarters, leaned against its edge, and made you watch as he loaded the gun you’d assume he’d use to take your life.

You weren’t sure this was much better, if you were being honest.

You hadn’t meant to board his ship, or, you hadn’t planned to, at least. You’d been scared, confused, and when you were alone and penniless in a city that wasn’t known for being kind to wayward souls, anything seemed like an improvement to testing the compassion of a crown’s soldiers. You’d picked a vessel with a flag you recognized, stowed yourself away in what seemed to be a lesser-used part of the galley, and spent the better part of two weeks stealing food and holding your breath, making as little noise as you could as not to attract any unwanted attention from the crew. It’d worked, too. It would’ve kept working, if the first-mate with the toothy smile and sickly pale skin hadn’t stumbled onto your hiding place, slapped a pair of rusted shackles around your wrists, and threw you at the feet of his captain like a cut of meat to a lion. Like a hostage, to a man who was far too happy to wave his pistol around until someone gave him an excuse to pull the trigger.

It was all you could do to keep your eyes open, your hands shaking where you held them in your lap. You could only be thankful you were still out at sea, where the constant, gentle rocking did what it could to hide your trembling. Your voice didn’t receive the same kindness, through, wavering and breaking without an ocean’s worth of excuses to hide it. “I… I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” You stammered, doing your best to ignore the renewed pressure on your cheek. You wondered if it would bruise. You wondered if you’d be alive long enough for it to. “I just-- I’m not a traveler, I didn’t want to be here, and the city’s guards had caught me stealing and I thought this might’ve been a navy ship and--”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the muzzle of his flintlock dropped, coming to rest against the nape of your neck while his expression turned from uninterested to displeased, sterile apathy soon replaced with a narrowed gaze, and a small, almost unnoticeable frown. “That’s an awful lot of words for a stow away, too,” He said, his tone just as harsh as his adopted disposition. “I don’t remember saying it was your turn to talk.”

You opened your mouth, but you caught yourself before you could apologize, bowing your head and pursing your lips instead. If nothing else, that seemed to placate the captain. He didn’t pull away, didn’t express his hidden sympathy or offer you a place to spend the voyage, but he sighed, his free hand rising to run through his untamed hair as his tail flicked, the sudden evidence of its existence catching you off-guard. It shouldn’t have, in retrospect, not when you’ve been watching from the sidelines long enough to know everyone one the ship was a beastmen of one variety or another, but the captain had always been reclusive, reserved, hiding himself away during the day and only showing his face when it was too dark to recognize him properly.

You couldn't say you could see why. He was a monster, the stolen gems and jewelry littered around his cabin and the weapon being pointed in your direction were enough to prove that, but he didn’t look like a monster, not beyond the patch hastily pulled over one eye. It was different then the silent strength you’d seen in some of his men, then the desperate mania of his first mate’s laugh. If anything, it looked like he was cruel because he’d woken up and decided to be. Because he wanted to hurt someone, and you--

A fist balled itself  around your hair, jerking your body upward and forcing a pitchy, poorly stifled scream from your lungs. You scrambled to grab at his arm, to pry it away, but your nails sunk into leathery uselessly and the captain only tightened his grip, only pulled harder as tears began to form in the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. “I’m sorry.” This time, it was involuntary, spilling out before you could swallow it back. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die--”

“Leona, fucking Leona. God, it’s like no one’s ever told you to shut up,” He growled, frustration giving way to anger. You moved to speak, to beg for forgiveness, but something was filling your mouth before you could make a sound, the barrel scraping against your teeth and the muzzle hitting the back of your throat, forcing you to gag, to choke as he hauled you forward, off of your seat and onto the floor, your bare knees crashing into the unforgiving wood as you fought not to collapse.

“I didn’t sit back and let you steal from me for weeks so you could run your mouth the moment I drag you into daylight. I didn’t tell Ruggie to keep you alive so you could keep apologizing like a scared mouse. You know how many of my men have been dying to take a bite out of you?” He paused, but he didn’t wait for a response. It wasn’t like you could’ve given him one, not while you were still struggling to breath. Rather, you watched in astonishment as he laughed, the sound airy, non-committal. As if the thought of you being ripped apart wasn’t worthy of his full attention. “You want to make it to land, right? All in one piece?”

You tried to nod, but the gesture was stilted, nearly too fervid to be recognizable. The captain didn’t seem to notice, though, he didn’t seem to care. You could feel your heart racing in your chest as his pistol almost, almost withdrew, only to press against your tongue at the last second, his scowl breaking into a smirk as your tears began to flow freely, your remaining scraps of pride no long enough to hold them back. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to die here, where your bleeding corpse would be thrown into the waves without a moment’s worth of thought. You couldn’t, you wouldn’t, not if there was anything you could do to save yourself. And the captain seemed to know that.

He seemed to know he’d get exactly what he wanted, from you.

“If you want to make it off of my ship alive...” This time, his flintlock pulled back completely, pressing idly against your temple, your own spit coating its silver surface. His grip fell away, but he only took to carding through your hair, pushing it out of your face. Attempting to soothe you, like you were some mindless, terrified animal.

Like you were a pet, just finding out you’d already been forced into a cage.

“You’ll find something useful to do with that mouth.”