"You're getting ahead of yourself," Neteyam says, continuing his slow strokes.
"M'sorry…" Lo'ak mumbles, taking a hitching breath. Neteyam glances up at Lo'ak when he hears his voice. He sees that cute little pout on his lips, and those big, pleading eyes looking up at him. He looks so much like a child, so much like how he looked the first time they did this.
---
Age gap netelo for Springcest 2026
@macrocest
I went for the top row for the yellow time card
They grow up so fast | Deadline | Forever
Don't like? Don't Read. Don't want to see this content? Block me. :)
Fandom: Original Work
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
CW: Cousin Incest (Consensual), (this piece does not contain sexual content), Established Relationship, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comship
Word count: 6,259
Summary:
This piece was written for SpringCest 2026 event by @macrocest. I chose the Blue horror Bingo Card, Middle Row: It’s all in your head | Haunted by their victims | Holy water.
This piece is heavily inspired by the music video and song – “Under the Graveyard” by Ozzy Osbourne. I was deeply moved by it when I first saw it because it had a ‘good girl/evil guy’ vibe and showed unconditional love, which is what I’m into. I always wanted to write a scene that followed the structure of that music video but adapted to an event that may happen in my story.
Springcest Fest is a shipcest (fictional incest) bingo event with a special challenge: to include all 3 squares of your bingo in one work.
You can choose to make your bingo from any of three of the 3x3 cards below:
The yellow time card designed by @windytalishar:
Top Row: They grow up so fast | Deadline | Forever
Middle Row: Making up for lost time | Back in the day | Monthiversary
Bottom Row: Waiting | Never change | Too old
The blue horror card designed by @legsfreaky:
Top Row: Kept prisoner | Flesh wound | "Help me!"
Middle Row: It's all in your head | Haunted by their victims | Holy water
Bottom Row: "Don't you trust me?" | Foaming at the mouth | Demon child
The green language of flowers card designed by @litcest:
Top Row: Mimosa (Chastity) | Yellow Rose (Devotion) | Myrtle (Marriage)
Middle Row: Poppy (Sleep) | Primrose (Youth) | Marigold (Jealousy)
Bottom Row: Foxglove (Deception) | Wolfsbane (Poison) | Basil (Rivalry)
This event will run from April 20th to June 20th.
The goal is the same as any other bingo: to make a row, column, or diagonal by using each of the prompts, except this time you have to include them all in one work… or if you’re feeling particularly inspired: a full blackout card where you fill every prompt in one work.
Works do not need to be posted specifically on AO3, they can be posted anywhere, but our AO3 event page has all our info and FAQs.
Link to the AO3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SpringCest
✷ for @microcest prompt #34: like father, like son
✷ david "hesh" walker/logan walker | 1515 words
✷ content: nsfw, brocest, dadson, canon-typical violence, post-elias' death, implied elias/hesh/logan, ftm logan walker, feminine terms for genitalia, feminizing pet names
fic linked in title & below the cut
June 28, 2028. The day life as the Walker boys knew it came to a violent, bloodied end.
Hesh doesn't think he'll ever forget the horror of watching helplessly as his brother and father were shot right in front of him, listening to his father comforting Logan desperately before Rorke executed him, boot to his neck and gun to his head. The resulting hollowed emptiness that dragged all of Hesh's willpower to the sea floor.
Elias was dead. The leader of the Ghosts, their commanding officer, their father was dead. All Hesh and Logan had was each other.
In the days that followed, the remaining Ghosts were brought to the USS Liberator for treatment and to prepare their next attack. Outside of appointments with medical, Hesh didn't let Logan leave his side. They remained in their shared bunk, holed up together, survivor's guilt weighing over them like a stormcloud.
Hesh changed Logan's bandages, pressing kisses over the blood soaked fabric like how their parents had done when they were little (so long ago). They felt the sway of the ship move their blood within their bodies as they cradled each other, Hesh needing to feel Logan being alive and Logan needing to be cared for.
All the while, the chaos of the war raged on. They had three days left before they would resume their work in the field. Four precious days to mourn their missing lover and return to operational capacity. It was in the witching hour of the fourth day on the Liberator that Hesh woke Logan up in a near feverish state.
The building sense of urgency he'd felt since Elias' denied burial had come to a head in his dream. Flashes of his father's wedding ring as he cupped their faces, the intense pride with which he regarded them as he gave them orders, the sensation of being held and owned and loved in a way only a father could – all gone. Forever.
Elias charged Hesh with being responsible for Logan and the household when he's not around. He will never be back, so now Hesh needs to act. He needs to step into what Elias left behind.
His son, his wife, his Logan.
Hesh presses kisses along Logan's cheek and jawline, sliding his leg between Logan's thighs. Logan's barely awake, and Hesh can't blame him – it is early. But this is important.
He slides his hands along Logan's chest, blissfully free of his binder, save for the bandages. He works his brother's shirt up, moving his mouth down to kiss over the soft curves of his chest, brushing his facial hair against Logan's nipples. That wakes Logan up more, who comes to with a soft, hoarse groan.
A noise of confusion thrums in his throat, and Hesh's body responds with equal parts grief and need.
"Sorry, Lo," he whispers, lips brushing soft, freckled skin. "I need you, baby. Gotta make you feel good."
The sleepy realization is enough to have Logan stretching and nodding, moving his hands down to push at his boxers. Together they undress each other, returning to one another with more and more desperate kisses. Hesh feels the moment it sinks in that this will be their first time without Dad, permanently. Tears well in his eyes, and Logan, despite tearing up too, only pulls him down closer, hooking a leg around his waist.
"Miss him," Hesh mumbles, flexing his hips to grind against Logan's downy soft hair, his cock getting heavier with the press of his brother's body against him.
"Miss him too," Logan whispers, voice strained and wavering, but enough that Hesh can hear it.
"I gotcha, baby," Hesh continues. "Dad trained us well. You're gonna be good for me, and I'll keep you safe. Yeah?"
The words press on bruises both brothers share, bruises that Hesh had been avoiding for days, but no longer. Not when the pain threatens to keep him from being able to breathe some moments. Not when he craves his father's touch still, and he knows Logan does, if not even moreso.
Logan nods, breath hitching as he reaches down and takes Hesh's cock into his hand. He lets Hesh fuck his hand while Hesh kisses along his neck, scraping his teeth every so often. They know each other intimately; it does not take long before both are ready.
"How you want me?" Hesh asks, and Logan rolls over onto his stomach, pushing his hips up and spreading his legs to show off his drippy pussy. Hesh hisses through his teeth, a hand gripping Logan's ass cheek while his other grips the base of his cock.
"You sure that's not too much on your shoulder?" he asks, worried about the bandages.
Logan makes an impatient noise in response, snaking a hand down between his legs and parting his lips with two fingers, clenching down on nothing, letting his brother see how badly he needs him. Hesh knows; this is ripping off the bandaid as much as it is applying tape over it.
He doesn't bother with teasing Logan all that much, just strokes himself a few times with his tip against Logan's clit and entrance, before sinking in. His breathing grows labored as he buries himself into Logan's pussy, until he's flush against him. Then he lays over him, mounting him, his lips right at Logan's ear as he flexes his hips. His thrusts are short but deep, rubbing up against all of Logan's walls in the most delicious way. Logan's hoarse whimpers punctuate each thrust, so familiar and so heartbreaking at the same time.
They won't share such a thing with their father again.
As if synced in memory, Logan whispers, "H-hesh," and claws at the sheets. Immediately Hesh takes his hand, lacing their fingers together as he fucks into his brother harder. It may be audible outside the room but Hesh doesn't care.
His brother needs to be owned, and owned he will be.
"Dad trained me for you," he pants, nibbling on Logan's ear just to hear him whine. "Dad made you for me, trained me for you; he left you for me, and I'll take such good care of you. You're my wife now, baby. All mine. I got you."
Logan's heated blush grows even more intense with Hesh's words, and he's nodding along with all of them. Hesh thinks he hears a few stuttered agreements on whispered breaths, but it wouldn't matter if he didn't; Dad's word is law, even on the other side.
"Gonna kill Rorke, baby," Hesh murmurs, angling his hips to rub right up against that spot that's too much for Logan sometimes. "Gonna kill him and fuck you over his corpse. Gonna do it for Dad."
A desperate hitched mess of words, Logan trying to scramble away, but Hesh holds firm. "Gonna do it for Dad," he repeats.
"F-for Dad," Logan whines, biting into the pillow to stifle his louder moans as Hesh pauses and pushes his legs wider apart, letting him sit back and get a look at what he's done to his brother.
"Good girl, Lo," Hesh murmurs, fucking into his baby brother even harder now, thumb pressing against his puckered entrance. Logan's spare hand grips the sheets desperately, and Hesh's vision swims with tears as the mix of emotions becomes too much. He thinks he hears Logan sob, and that turns something on deep inside him.
"That's it, c'mon, take it. You can do it, pretty girl. This is why I married you, go on," he coos. Logan definitely sobs this time, but comes so hard it soaks the bunk, and drags Hesh over the edge too. His cock flexes, pumping Logan full, claiming him for himself.
They catch their breaths, Hesh leaning back down to kiss over Logan's face and gently pulling out so he can turn him over. Logan looks up at him with heartache and satisfaction in his gaze, a heady mix that Hesh is sure is mirrored in his own verdant gaze.
What if we can't do it? Logan signs.
Hesh swallows, lifts his own hands to sign back. We're gonna kill Rorke, baby. There's no other option. And we'll try to survive. For Dad.
And if we don't?
Then we join him.
Logan looks oddly at peace with this decision, and Hesh wonders if living on would be too heavy a cross to bear for Logan. Instead of digging deeper into that wound, he picks Logan up and carries him across the hall to the showers, unused this time of night. They clean each other up with soft kisses between soapy touches. Hesh coaxes a second orgasm out of Logan, and Logan does the same for Hesh, something risky but necessary for them both.
They had their pact.
Elias may have died, but that didn't take him out of their relationship. It never could. So they would do all they could, and persue Rorke's own bloody end, in the name of love. Perhaps they are too ready to give their everything, but Hesh finds it only fitting.
Series summary: On a ski trip with friends, half-siblings Sadie and Noah’s already close relationship grows increasingly beyond platonic love. Includes shutting someone up with a kiss, huddling for warmth, a prank gift that reveals too much, post-anaesthesia honesty, and giving in to temptation.
For @macrocest bingo - Night edition (my card) : obnoxiously singing Christmas carols songs
Original fiction | words: 1.5k | rating: T
Ao3
Part 1: Road trip
The late afternoon sun set alight the snowy peaks of the Rockies. Pink and orange hues painted the mountains up ahead on the Trans-Canada highway. Fluffy snowflakes fell lazily from a sky soft as cashmere.
Sadie smiled wide, and her heart swelled with an awe-inspired sort of joy. There was just something so liberating about leaving her daily life behind to head into the wilderness.
In the passenger seat, Noah’s smile was just as wide, digging dimples in his cheeks.
"I can't wait to hit the slopes," he said.
They looked at each other and laughed for no other reason than the sheer excitement bubbling up their throats. The moment was perfect. Well, almost. “The Chipmunk Song” came on the car stereo.
"Oh, no, not that one. Please, skip it," Sadie said to Noah who was in control of the music.
He laughed. "The Chipmunks still give you the creeps?"
"Yes! I hate their voices.” She shuddered. “Little singing freaks. Change it!"
“You love big dragons and monsters, but you draw the line at squirrels? You need to face your fears, Sade. You're a big girl now.”
Keeping her eyes on the road, Sadie slapped him across the chest. Noah pretended she had hurt him.
"Now I'm too weak to press next."
"Fuck off," she said, laughing.
Noah skipped several songs and their favourite one started playing: a heavy metal cover of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree". Both started singing at the top of their lungs and banging their heads along with the song.
He had introduced her to heavy metal when they were teenagers. And her love of anything related to the fantasy genre had led her to folk and Celtic metal which she still listened to nowadays.
He must have been thinking about their teenage years too, because he said, "When my mom sent me to live with Dad and you…"
"Because you were a teenage rebel."
"Yeah… God, I was such a jerk to her," Noah said. "Anyway, I don’t think I ever thanked you for helping me graduate."
"Better late than never," she joked, ill at ease with his serious tone.
“Shut up,” he replied, rolling his eyes.
She focused on the road ahead, but memories of those years flooded her mind: evenings spent in his bedroom to help him study, encouraging him to finish homeworks, and berating him for skipping school yet lying so he wouldn’t be punished.
"I couldn’t let my big brother fail," she said.
"And I couldn’t disappoint my little sister."
She reached for an M&M in the bag between them, but Noah must have thought she was going for his hand because he linked their fingers together. Sadie chuckled.
"No, I wanted candy."
“Oh.”
He dropped her hand and laughed, averting his gaze.
"Why are you being so nice?" she asked him.
"Been thinking about stuff. Us."
Us— Sadie’s stomach turned into a knot.
Noah scratched his head through his close-cropped hair. He didn't elaborate. She knew better than to insist, he would open up eventually.
Noah stretched his arm across the back on her seat, and his fingers played with the dyed-pink hair curling on the nape of her neck.
Sadie waited all year for their annual ski trip with old friends, but this was her favourite part: the ten-hour road trip from Vancouver to Lake Louise with her half-brother. Just the two of them in the car, listening to music, laughing and reminiscing, even when they were silent, she liked it, there was no awkwardness, just calm.
They had grown close when Noah had moved in full time with her family. Their father had divorced Noah's mother when he was only two years old. Sadie was the result of his second, more successful, marriage. As a child, Noah had visited every other weekend. In adolescence, his mother got fed up with his attitude and the bad influence of his friends. At first he had rebelled against moving to a boring suburb with his father’s perfect second family. In time, his anger had abated, in no small part thanks to Sadie who wanted nothing more than his happiness. More than her half-brother, Noah was her best friend. Maybe more, but she tried not to think about that.
Nowadays, they still saw each other regularly. Noah had a fly-in fly-out job in a mine up north, in Yukon. Instead of paying for his own place where he would barely live, he spent his weeks off at her place. The arrangement suited her more than she could say, it helped financially, but mostly she liked the company.
Noah cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee.
"I… I applied for a new job."
"Noah, that's great! Why didn't you say so before? What is it?"
"I'd be teaching the kind of work I'm doing right now: heavy machinery operation and all that. It's in Edmonton."
Sadie's stomach sank, and the proud smile on her face waned. Edmonton was a whole province away, on the other side of the Rockies.
"Well, that can't possibly pay as well as your job right now," Sadie said curtly.
“Is that what you’re concerned about? Working in the mine is taking its toll on my health. You know that. You keep saying I need to think about the future."
"Yeah, but why teaching? That’s stupid. You hated school," she pointed out.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She was aware of how callous she sounded, but she couldn't help it.
"Why not get a degree,” she continued. “You could be an engineer."
"You just said I hated school."
Sadie clenched her jaw and gripped the wheel tighter.
"Edmonton, really? Fucking Edmonton. You don’t know anyone there," she said. "That's what you want?"
"You wouldn't have to put up with me living with you anymore. You'd be free to live your life and… and move on."
Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision of the road ahead, but she didn't want to show Noah she was crying.
"Watch out!" Noah cried.
The car in front of them had braked for a mountain goat. Sadie swerved. Their SUV slipped on a patch of ice. They spun into the opposite lane and nose-dived into the ditch. The seatbelt snapped across her chest and shocked the air out of her lungs. She froze, staring at the snow-filled windshield. Her ear buzzed, but through the noise she finally heard Noah's panicked voice.
“Sade? Sadie? You alright?”
"Yeah," she mumbled.
“Oh, thank god.”
He hugged her and that finally snapped her out of her stupor. She hugged him back, shaking in his arms. He rubbed her back in soothing circles.
“Fuck, I almost killed us,” she said.
“It’s okay. We’re alright,” he said.
Adrenaline propelled Noah into action. He got out, retrieved the shovel from the car trunk and started digging around the tires. Recent heavy snowfalls had cushioned the dip but they were stuck deep into the snowbank.
"We'll just call a tow truck," Sadie said.
"It's fine," he replied, already thigh-deep in the snow.
Out of misplaced pride, he tried his best to free the car. Sadie watched from the side of the road, holding a flashlight. The sun was setting and temperatures were dropping. Out of breath and face red from exertion, Noah finally admitted defeat.
"Call a tow truck," he said.
"Already have."
He rolled his eyes. "What a show of confidence."
"Was I wrong?"
"You could be more supportive."
"And you could take my advice."
Anger simmered between them, heightened by adrenaline. Arms crossed, shivering from the cold, they stood in silence on the curb.
Noah started humming “The Chipmunk Song”. Sadie turned to him, daggers in her eyes.
“It’s stuck in my head,” he protested.
Instead of shutting up, Noah started singing the lyrics: “Want a plane that loops the loop. I still want a hula hoop. We can hardly stand the—”
“Noah…” she warned, but of course, being a big brother, her annoyance only amused him, and he continued, this time doing the high-pitched Chipmunk voices.
“Please Christmas, don't be late. We can hardly stand—”
Sadie shut him up. With a kiss. Not a peck, but a big smack on the lips. Realizing what she had done, she pulled away, but he chased her mouth and kissed her back. His gloved hands cradled her face as his cold lips moved against hers. And she yielded to the forbidden feelings she had long harboured for her half-brother. Grabbing handfuls of his puffy coat, she pulled him closer to deepen the kiss.
“Sade…” Noah whispered.
But the tow truck's high beams interrupted him, and they jumped apart.
