steddie, historical au, dubious consent due to it being a mating run
Omega Chases should have ended with the revolution, Steve was sure of it. He certainly talked enough in meeting houses and sewing circles of the future the great cause of liberty would bring them.
All that talk of liberty—of equality and democracy—should have led those fiery alphas towards greater respect for the omegas who wove and stitched and cooked and cleaned and kept the farms running while they fought! Omegas across the colonies were praised for their hard work and dedication, in newspapers and pamphlets and speeches. Some of the fiercest writings even compared their fledgling country to an omega under the thumb of a cruel alpha, one whose mating must be violently broken. Of course the young omegas in Steve’s circle talked of an end to the Chase!
And maybe in the big cities they did. In Boston there are enough forward-thinkers to allow young omegas to pick their own beaux. In Philadelphia, with all the Quakers the Chases never really took root anyway.
But Hawkins is a simple town. A patriot town, with plenty of young alphas lost to the war, but simple nonetheless. Old-fashioned.
And his parents want him mated, to ensure his future is secure. He’s been raised to be a wife and run a household, it is all Steve knows. Perhaps in a city his parents would want more control and try to arrange a courting. They would find a suitable alpha for him without all this.
But Hawkins is small.
And the Chase pulls from all the surrounding villages. Chances are he’ll be caught by someone he’s never seen before.
At least he’s fast. Before they all presented, Steve was the fastest boy in the Hawkins schoolyard. After, he was the second fastest omega, and still the fastest boy, but the alphas all acted like it didn’t matter. (Billy Hargrove sneered, “It just means he’ll tire fast, might pass out before the end of the chase,” at the time; he died of cholera in a Continental Army camp in ‘81.)
He just wishes he knew who would be chasing him. How else will he know if he’s moving away from danger? Or towards it?
Maybe he’ll get lucky, find a good place to hide for the night. Or none of the alphas will pick his scent to follow…
Steve’s never been particularly lucky, though. So he prays the alpha who catches him will be good. Kind.
Still, he is standing in the meeting house in only his shift, alongside a few dozen other young omegas, waiting to be seen by a midwife and examined. To have his small breasts squeezed and his hips pinched. To lift his skirt and show off the thatch of hair over his mound and prove his ripeness. To receive the tansy-bitter cider that will ensure he is wet enough for safe coupling.
The young alphas are undergoing a similar ritual just a few miles to the east in a nearby village—the Chase requires some distance to ensure fairness—but their drink will have herbs to make their blood hot.
His turn comes, and after a quick poke and prod Steve is done, the bitter drink lingering on his tongue. The pair of midwives finish their task soon after, and the omegas are herded out into the cool, summer night. As soon as their feet touch grass, they run. This race has no start or finish line.
There is only time and distance and capture. Only the Chase.
Steve runs, grateful to have simple, leather slippers on to protect his feet. Plenty of the others are barefoot; they are easy prey, having to stick to the roads and open fields, or risk being slowed by the forest floor. It also means the majority of the runners head south, down the road.
Steve goes northward.
He slips between trees, taking cover in the woods, but without the moon and stars overhead, he loses track of where he is going. His path veers to the east.
Towards the alphas.
When he comes out of the dense patch of trees, he realizes his mistake as he spots a figure jogging towards him, a young man in nothing but his breeches. “Damn it all,” Steve mutters, cursing aloud for the first time in his nineteen years. Turning around will do him no good, the trees a hindrance more than a help now.
He turns south, and the alpha turns with him, their paths set to converge.
Steve prays the alpha is gentle.
Then he hears the growling.
That’s all the warning he gets before he is tackled to the ground. He’s on his belly, hips pinned, but he can smell the alpha. The scent is sickly sweet and oddly stale, and it stirs no interest within Steve. His mother said that the right alpha—the right scent—would calm him when he was caught. Steve has never felt less calm in his life.
He struggle beneath the alpha’s weight, frantic in his desire to escape, but large hands hold him still, press his body into the ground as the alpha ruts against his backside.
Steve hears a whoop in the distance, a joyful sound so unlike the growling above him. Some lucky alpha has caught a promising scent.
The alpha above Steve leans down to sniff at his neck, still growling. It stops the rutting for a moment, but that mild relief is dashed to bits as the alpha yanks on Steve’s shift, tearing it at the side seam. His bottom is exposed to the night air along with the wetness at the top of his thighs. At least the alpha’s frenzy keeps him from removing his breeches as he returns to rutting his clothed cock against Steve.
Another whoop fills the air, closer this time, followed by a snarl. Steve tries to lift his head, to see how close this other alpha is, only for his head to be pushed down. “Stay back,” the alpha on him growls, voice rough.
“Not your omega,” the new voice growls back, rich and deep.
“Not yet.”
“Not ever. He’s struggling. Your omega should be pliant by now.”
“Let me go!” Steve finally forces from his throat. “Smell wrong.” He kicks up, fighting now it seems he has a chance.
“I caught the Harrington bitch, I’m keeping him.”
Another snarl, followed by a dull crack. Then the alpha is off of him and Steve scrambles to get upright, holding his split seam together as he watches the new alpha get the other onto his feet and throw him to the side. “Don’t touch him again,” he says, putting his body between Steve and his attacker.
“I shan’t forget this, Munson,” the alpha growls before turning tail and running south.
Steve’s rescuer watches the retreating alpha for several long seconds, then turns to Steve. “Are you hurt?” he asks softly, closing the distance between them.
“No,” Steve whispers. But he’s shaking, his legs weak, and he almost collapses when he breathes in and catches this new alpha’s scent: fresh and green with a hint of honey. He smells right.
His hands settle at Steve’s waist, gripping just enough to support him as he murmurs, “Scented you on the breeze. Knew you’d be perfect, but you sure are pretty too.”
Steve examines him as best he can, the big, dark eyes and wild curls escaping from his queue, his delicate fangs just visible as he breathes hard, his mouth open. His hands are warm through Steve’s thin shift, his hold firm yet gentle. Another whiff of that sweet, green scent fills Steve’s nose, and he feels more slick trickle from him, his cunt clenching. His mouth waters too, more wetness to ease *this* alpha’s way in. Pressing in, Steve tucks his nose to the alpha’s neck, needing to breathe him in, suddenly desperate to be full Full of that scent, yes, but also full of heat and seed and blood.
Words fail him and he keens. The alpha answers with a soft chuff, a hand moving to cup Steve’s plush bottom, guiding their still-covered hips together. The heat of him feels good, pressed up against Steve’s hotter cunt. “Alpha, please,” Steve whispers, mouthing at the spot on the alpha’s neck where his scent is strongest. Where his taste is sweetest.
“Yes.” A hand slides up Steve’s back and into his hair, tilting his head further to the side. “Take your taste, Omega.”
His little fangs easily pierce the thin skin beneath them as Steve bites down, giving into his need without further thought. This alpha—his alpha—has allowed himself to be claimed. Steve’s never heard of an alpha finishing the Chase with a claim, their bonds only ever completing after, when the omega moves into their home and their bed. Steve moans, his prick spurting his pleasure, sweet blood on his tongue as he cleaves to his alpha.
“Feel better?” he asks, a his hand rubbing Steve’s back to soothe him.
Steve hums in response, mouth still occupied as he licks and sucks at his bite. His alpha moans at the attention, his hard cock throbbing between them. Steve needs it, his cunt aching, pulsing around nothing. Pulling back, he gasps, tugging at his alpha’s loose shirt which comes off easily, but they must work together to undo the laces on his breeches and force the garment down his legs. Finally freed, his heavy cock bobs in its struggle to stand tall until he takes it in hand, smearing his own wetness from the head over the shaft. Mouth hanging open at the sight of him—at the size of him—Steve reaches to touch. He’s claimed this alpha, claimed his right to this cock.
It kicks in his hand as his alpha’s hips thrust. “Mine,” he husks, and his alpha nods, surging forward to finally capture his lips in a kiss.
His alpha is careful as he brings them down to lie in the soft grass, as he settles between Steve’s spread thighs and rucks up his shift. A sure finger slips into his channel, just enough to feel, enough to know he can press in, that he can fill Steve with ease, his body open and accepting. And he does, sliding in too fast, Steve’s body accommodating the intrusion as he hisses through the pain of being stretched by his girth.
Then he’s moving, rutting into tight, wet heat, his knot tugging at Steve’s sensitive rim until it catches. His hips keep moving, thrusting forward as he spills his own heat. As Steve’s cunt clenches down and locks around his knot, reaching his own peak with a gush of slick.
They lie together, panting, clinging to one another as their bodies cool, finally sated. In the distance, they can hear more whoops and growls, even some plaintive yips as other alphas fight and other omegas are claimed.
Steve hums, fingers tangled in his alpha’s hair.
“Name’s Edward,” his alpha murmurs, “Eddie,” introducing himself with his eyes closed as he nuzzles against Steve’s ear.
“Steve.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Everyone in these parts knows the Harringtons.”
“Then why don’t I know you?”
“I’m just from a little farm up past Forest Hills. I only came home for the Chase. Wasn’t sure I’d even find an omega tonight, but it’s hard to track a scent in Boston.” He nips playfully at Steve’s earlobe. “But as soon as I smelled you I knew: I’m yours, Steve.”
“Mine,” Steve agrees, nosing at his claiming bite. Soon, their bodies will separate. Soon, they will return to the Hawkins Meeting House, and their families will agree to the mating. They will wed, and Eddie will take Steve to Boston. To a city where he can do and see and learn so much more than Hawkins has to offer.
And then Eddie will bite him in return, completing their bond.
Steve is the first omega to return from the Chase without a bite. The first to make his own claim.
So my brain has been mush recently and I've been bouncing around WIPs like a pinball machine, and of course I just had to think up new fanfic ideas instead of finishing any of the ones I already started.
Regardless! I've now got two potential MDZS fanfictions, and I thought I'd pitch them here and see if anyone is interested in seeing them written and posted. Interaction helps a lot with my motivation, and if someone else is excited about this, maybe it'll kick my brain into gear!
[titles subject to change]
~~~
WIP #1: Draining Gall
Ship: Nie Mingjue/Lan Xichen
The Yiling Patriarch is an old, revered Immortal in charge of a shadowy sect in the burial mounds that nobody really knows much about. The Jins are attempting shady shit and end up caught, with Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen wrapped up in everything. The time-traveling Wei Wuxian (who overshot by several centuries when making his way back in time) knows they aren't a part of the plot and means them no harm, but he's also got his spooky reputation to contend with, and has his own ideas for how to best deal with the two wayward cultivators.
The Nie is easy, as he's been figuring out how to best help them with their cultivation for a while, and even tested an earlier version on Mingjue's father, so he knows what he's doing when he tattoos an array into his back. Of course, this is very terrifying for the poor cultivators who grew up on stories about the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, and Lan Xichen grows more and more distressed at the idea of Mingjue being tortured.
Wei Ying is not unaffected by his not-yet-brother-in-law's begging, and so he takes out a talisman (one he created, originally to soothe animals who naturally became restless in the heavy resentment of the Burial Mounds) and uses it on the Lan to relax him. It works, although as Mingjue finds out later, after they've been locked away in a room somewhere to rest, a bit too well. A relaxed Lan is one who will act without their usual restrictions, and while it isn't quite like Lan Wanji while drunk, it is close enough that the two end up engaged with Xichen's headband wrapped around Mingjue's arm. Mingjue might have been more thrilled about this if Xichen wasn't very obviously not in his right mind, and if they weren't still in enemy territory. Soon enough, they are ransomed back to their clans, left to deal with the fallout.
Here is a slightly more detailed but much longer (and also incomplete) outline, because I feel like my summary wasn't all that great.
- Nie Mingjue is worried as they are dragged into the Yiling Patriarch's lair, remembering his father's warnings about staying as far away from the shadowy Yiling Wei sect as he could. This hadn't been a problem until now, seeing as they tended to remain in the shadows and the outskirts of things, but now he has no choice.
- What's worse, they've dragged Xichen into this mess as well, and if he weren't so worry about what might happen to them, he'd strangle these useless vipers of Jin. The nameless Jin disciples had come along with him and Xichen under the guise of protection and help, but he was certain at least one of them had brought them into the Yiling Wei trap.
- They are brought before the shadowy immortal, and separated from the Jins. He's less worried for them and more for himself and Xichen, who have the Sect Leader's attention. Xichen attempts to be diplomatic, but the Patriarch waves him off and has them brought to another room.
- Nie Mingjue finds himself being stripped from the waist up and laid face down onto a table, gritting his teeth against his anger and fear alike as Xichen tries to bargain and beg for his safety. There are no restraints on the table, but then the Patriarch paralyzes him, leaving restraints unnecessary.
- He can still see Xichen being held off to the side, eyes growing wet and hands starting to shake as he becomes more and more desperate. Now Mingjue merely wishes he had begged the Patriarch to torture him alone, without making Xichen watch. He knew the Gusu Lan had their own horror stories of the Yiling Patriarch, knew they were probably worse than what spread in the Nie, and could only hope Xichen would not be harmed outside of being made to watch.
- But then the Sect Leader was finally attracted by the begging, and Mingjue can only watch as a talisman is wrapped around Xichen's neck and the man goes limp. Not unconscious, but relaxed and pliant, blinking slowly and unhurriedly even with his face in the Patriarchs grasp.
- The Patriarch likes to talk, and he debates whether to put Xichen within Mingjue's line of sight or on top of his legs. Mingjue is still stuck, still trying to figure out what the Patriarch wants, what he's going to do with them. But despite his own fear of becoming one of the man's demonic experiments, he is somewhat comforted by the seeming gentleness the Sect Leader has for Xichen.
- In the end Xichen is laid over his legs, cheek resting against his lower back and seeming to be able to move just about as much as he was. The Yiling Patriarch speaks of his father, of what he did to him, saying that he had refined his techniques over the years and would be able to confine 'it' to his upper instead of his entire back.
- A symbol is tattooed in between his shoulder blades, and while the pain is not terrible, being unable to fight and frightened for Xichen leaves him struggling. He tries to focus on Xichen's weight, on the little puffs of air against his skin, the slight nuzzling of his nose as he shifts nearly imperceptibly, all signs that the other man was alive and at least outwardly not in distress.
- Finally the Patriarch finishes, and he is released from the paralysis. He is warned to move slowly and not attempt anything rash or with a lot a movement. Told to make himself comfortable, to not try to stand lest the next part knock him off his feat. He's too busy worrying over a seemingly delirious Xichen to register the warning until it is too late.
- Before he can ask what he means, the sigil carved into his back activates, pulling all of the resentment in his body out to fed the Yiling Laozu. It is horribly terrifying to watch, but even more so to feel, his entire body weakening as if he had been fighting for days.
- They are brought to a bedroom, and he is unable to put up more then a token protest, Xichen still limp and his own body weighed down by exhaustion. It soothes him some that they are laid out together, that they do not take Xichen away from him, and he is even more glad to be left alone. He fully intends to sleep to try and recover some strength, but Xichen is acting strange.
- Xichen snuggles close despite the lack of layers between them, stroking his breastbone and playing with his hair, startling him with a soft kiss to his collarbone, gazing up at him through thick lashes. He calls his name questioningly and only gets a soft hum in response. Xichen is awake, but he has clearly been affected by whatever Sect Leader Wei had done to him, his actions far too shameless for a Lan.
- At first he's enraptured by the softness of it, but then he remembers that Xichen is not in his right mind, and loathes himself for taking pleasure in his touch, for not being able to muster up the strength to push him away.
- He's also terrified of what could have happened to him if he had been put into bed with someone other than Nie Mingjue, if the Yiling Patriarch had taken this good innocent man back to his own bedchambers, or thrown him into bed with his servants or disciples (Or worse, one of his *corpses*). He's still scared of what might happen, aware that he is not currently physically strong enough to keep the vulnerable Lan with him should the Yiling Wei come to take him away.
~~~
WIP #2: Marriage Hunt
Ship: Nie Mingjue/Meng Yao
The Nie Sect is less known in this au, more isolated from the other clans, which allow a lot of rumors about their practices to run amuck. Although they do also simply have very different practices and culture from the rest. One of the things that they do is a kind of mating run/bride hunt. Potential matches attempt to outrun and outwit the ones hunting, showing off their survival abilities and fighting prowess to the ones looking for a spouse. There are rules and culture and all that kind of stuff, but to outsiders the practice seems barbaric.
For whatever reason, there are outsiders in this year's bridal hunt. Meng Yao has been forced to go by his father, and is determined to both survive the trial and avoid getting caught and raped by one of the beastial Nie. (There is no sex in the hunt, but it isn't difficult for an outsider to think otherwise.)
What Meng Yao doesn't know is that trying so hard will actually only garner him more attention. He thinks that the Nie are looking for weak prey to take advantage of, and so he makes himself as much of a threat as possible, not realizing that he's actually playing into the hunt perfectly.
Nie Mingjue had caught several people before Meng Yao, but none of them put up a good fight, so he dropped them and kept hunting. Meng Yao is the first one to fight hard and dirty, garnering the Sect Leader's interest and inciting a chase. Meng Yao pulls out all the stops he can, even using a knife he smuggled in (outside weapons are not allowed during the hunt), determined to kill before he can be killed. Of course, the small knife isn't enough to kill Nie Mingjue, but Meng Yao's desperate and clever evasion does last quite a while. Which, of course, only makes the Nie more interested.
Eventually, Meng Yao is caught, unable to completely outwit the hunter. He thinks that Nie Mingjue is taking pleasure in the act of hunting, in forcing him to the ground and making him helpless, but Mingjue is actually enjoying how feisty this tiny little Jin is. (Might have a hunter claim their prey through biting, may have it be some other way.) Meng Yao expects to be taken there on the forest floor, but instead the Nie marks him and throws him over his shoulder before leaving the forest with his prize.
Meng Yao lives in fear for a few weeks, trying to gain a foothold in his new life in whatever way he can. It isn't until the Jin Sect Leader sends messages talking about wedding preparations that things come to light. Mingjue is confused by the letter he has received, not sure if it is an insult or not, so he consults Meng Yao on the matter, seeing as it is from his people. In the Nie's mind it is very odd and potentially rude for any kind of talk of a wedding to happen before the second hunt. At which point Meng Yao questions what he means by second hunt, dreading the thought of having to go through that again, which is where Mingjue realizes Meng Yao does not have the information he should.
The way the entire thing works is that after the first hunt, there is a period of courting where the auspicious couple is chaperoned as they get to know each other and see if they would make a good pair outside of battle. Then the second hunt takes place, where the roles are reversed. The ones who previously showcased their ability to outrun and outmaneuver get the chance to prove themselves as hunters, while the hunters get the chance to show their own elusiveness. Only after the second hunt is there talk of weddings and such.
Meng Yao realizes that he will not be forced to marry Nie Mingjue, and Mingjue is very much horrified by the fact that Meng Yao had gone into the hunt, into their entire relationship, thinking that Mingjue would hurt him. He has a rather large bone to pick Jin Guangshan after that. Especially when he finds out about the man's treatment of his son in general.
Meng Yao is fully informed of his rights, but he's been there long enough that now that the danger of his situation has been taken away, he doesn't really want to leave. Nie Mingjue is a righteous man, Nie Huaisang has quickly become the little brother he never knew he wanted, and the rest of the Nie are all very welcoming of him in a way the Jin had never been. The idea of being the hunter instead of the hunted, of having a place of power and respect amongst these people, appeals to him in a way nothing much else has ever managed.
~~~
If either of these ideas interests you, please let me know! Ask questions, cackle maniacally, whatever floats your boat! I've got a bit written for them, although not enough or well-edited enough to post on ao3, but if you ask nicely, I'll post some snippets for you here!
Lots of love my lovelies! 💜
Edit: The Second WIP is now a fledgling fic! Click here to read -> Marriage Hunt chapter 1!
Edit #2: First WIP is also now a feldgling fic! Not going quite the same as the outline, but they never do. Here's the first chapter if you want to check it out! -> Draining Gall
Idk if this counts as a Drabble but basically it starts as me theorizing an event in Prythian and then turns into ‘what if Azris’
WC: 3,325
(TW: A/B/O, loosely nsfw, talks of breeding, male omegas have cocklets and boypussies).
Okay but hear me out.
I want a Prythian mating run
Make it A/B/O (along with their regular magic powers) (however maybe there’s some traditional powder that participants are required to take so that it dampens their powers and awakens the alpha/beta/omega inside of them)
It’s primal, the lopers start first. Battling each other to find and make the best den and claim territory for them to bring their runner back to once they catch them.
After a while, they catch the scents of the runners filtering throughout the forest. That’s when the game truly begins.
the runners don’t make it easy (usually betas and omegas)
(What’s point of making it easy when you’re strong and want to make the alpha/beta prove they are worthy and can breed you full of strong pups)
(Any second gender is allowed to sign up in any position: runner or loper)
(For example, just last season the alpha prince of Adriata, Varian, shocked Prythian when rumors spread that he signed up to be a runner. The shock multiplied when it was rumored that he was caught by the scariest and tiniest alpha of Prythian, Amren of the Night Court. Legend has it the two came out four days after the mating run covered in blood and scratches but are now inseparable).
It’s all about scent.
Only unmated faes can participate. Think of the occasion like an annual festival to see if two halves of a whole can find one another.
Not every pair who comes together will be mates as an actual mating bond is rare to find (also sometimes the pairs aren’t even the most compatible scent-wise be it alpha athleticism, an omega caught in a trap, or just the luck of the catch) but usually by the time an loper catches an runner, both of their pheromones have their instincts roaring.
But if you are mates or just are the most compatible for one another… oh the mother will let you know. There will be some other force pushing the runner to go faster, there is something that pushes the loper to be more violent about ridding the runner’s trail of other lopers running after the same scent. The closer they get to one another the wetter the omegas cunt gets the heavier an alphas cock, even betas will adjust accordingly depending on whether they are a runner or a loper.
Azris below the cut
Now let’s say Eris enters the race this year as a runner. Years prior he’s been forced by his father to sign up as a loper despite the fact that he’s technecially an omega, which is fine (but dangerous- some fellow lopers would get distracted by his scent and try to go after him. While he always fought them off he can’t deny the inner thrill of the chase) and Some years he’s caught good scents and has even followed some of them, hunted them. Usually though, his interest would fade and he would just return to his den and hang out in his nest until the event was over.
Not this year, this year, instead of just going to the Autumn run, Eris heard a rumor that a certain Shadowsinger would finally be participating in an intercourt run. He hated himself for being weak to the temptation but ever since he felt the other’s scarred hands around his neck Eris’ inner omega can’t fight the fantasy of being knotted by the Illyrian.
Eris doesn’t tell his father that he’s signing up as a runner, of course. He just lets the man know that he is going to try his luck with a wider pool of runners to choose from- which Beron accepted.
There is a gathering before the run, this is where runners and lopers can mingle and familiarize each other with scents that intrigue them. Legend has it that it is at one of these minglings where Thesan and his lover first made contact. Eris goes to this meeting and tries to mingle. He talks to many handsome and beautiful lopers, but he doesn’t feel his cocklet twitch until he makes eye contact with Azriel, who is staring at him from across the room, over the head of the third archeron sister. Elain.
Shit. Eris can’t believe he let himself forget about the newest object of Azriel’s affections. He can’t believe he even allowed himself to hope for just a minute that the Shadowsinger might return his interest. He can’t believe he let himself think that he smelt the other’s cedar infused arousal back when he whispered in his ear at the High Lord’s meeting.
Eris quickly sidesteps so that he’s out of view of the Shadowsinger but he can’t rid himself of the memory of his hazel eyes. Maybe his father was right, he should never be a runner because omegas let their thoughts get clouded by their cunts.
Eris knows he should leave the gathering before Azriel could have the opportunity to spread the word to whatever other members of the Inner Circle that are present. But his inner omega is waging war against him. Give him your scent. We are the most worthy omega in here. Eris isn’t so sure if he agrees with that, but he’s come this far and defied his father by opening up the possibility for a son of Autumn to be caught and bred. He supposes it won’t hurt to give the alpha a reminder of the scent he should be hunting.
So Eris moves, head held high. He walks around the edges of the room, dodging wanting alphas who approach him. He stops once he’s two meters away from the present members of the Night Court Inner Circle, facing the back of Azriel’s wings that separate him from the two ladies in front of him—Mor and Elain. The two female fae are chatting with one another and Azriel is clearly focused on analyzing the room around him— at least Eris assumes so based on the slight movements of the black haired man’s head.
Shining gold twinkles at the corner of Eris’ eye and grabs his attention. He spies a tall spring court alpha adorned in gold jewelry. The male is not Tamlin but he sure is beautiful, Eris can’t help but think. He sees the golden male approaching his direction at the same time Eris recognizes a semi-familiar shadow flitting by him. He has an idea.
Eris waits as the golden alpha comes closer and closer and he makes note that the shadow that was passing by has stilled and attempted to blend in with the natural darkness of the wall nearest to him. Eris feels a smirk form on his face as he thinks about the fact that the Shadowsinger has no idea that Eris knows each and every time the male is watching him.
Finally, the golden alpha gets close enough and Eris purposefully angles himself so that the other will ‘accidentally’ knock into him. The plan goes accordingly and soon Eris is letting out a pointed gasp as the Spring Court Alpha catches him by the waist with an apology. Eris laughs then, purposefully emitting his toasted maple and almond scent as if he was truly embarrassed. Eris waves the golden alpha away, smiling as if he wasn’t disgusted by his musk of freshly cut grass, and calmly readjusts his blazer before walking towards the exit of the gathering. It’s not until after he takes two steps out of the door that he hears footsteps behind him and sees a shadow in front of him that mimics the lines of the familiar pair of wings that never seem to escape his mind.
“Why hello Azriel,” Eris says, pausing his movements, listening as the footsteps get louder as the Shadowsinger approaches him from behind. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I think I should be saying that to you,” Eris can’t help but bite back a keen as he smells the other’s cedar aura. Azriel grabs him by the waist—his hand covering the exact same spot where the Spring Court alpha had held Eris earlier— and turns him around to face him. Eris is proud of himself for maintaining an unimpressed expression on his face as he feels his cunt clench around nothing.
Eris tries not to show how much Azriel affects him, he tries not to cry as the Shadowsinger releases him and puts his hands back in his pockets. He tries to convince himself that he isn’t desperate for this alpha to chase him tomorrow, to accept his challenge, to want him.
“Are you a runner or a loper?” Azriel asks, surprising Eris as the Autumn Court male was expecting some sort of snarky comment that is typical of a member of the Night Court when it comes to him.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Eris smirks in a manner that he knows irritates the other, hoping for Azriel to let out more of his scent.
“I’ve heard you usually spend your mating run in Autumn as a loper… that you haven’t…” Azriel trails off, his scent growing stronger as he completes the sentence internally. Eris takes a step closer to Azriel.
“That I haven’t taken anyone back to my nest? That I haven’t been bred yet?” He asks, “What is it Azriel, what have you heard?”
What do you want, alpha? Eris shushes his inner omega.
“I’ve heard you’ve chased hundreds of runners but none of them have satisfied you enough to finish the chase.”
Eris spies Azriel gulp and his wings twitch as he says so.
“What you’ve heard is true,” Eris admits and shivers as he senses Azriel’s cedar musk grow stronger. He feels his own inner omega screaming inside of him, begging him to let out his own maple and almond in response. He feels heat pooling in his stomach and he knows he needs to exit this conversation soon before his inner omega takes over completely.
“Are you running?” Azriel asks, stepping even closer to Eris. Eris glares at him, hating that Azriel’s curiosity is feeding into his inner hope that the male might be interested in him.
“Maybe, not that it should matter to you with the remaining Archeron sister in the mix,” Eris crosses his arms over his chest.
“It doesn’t matter to me, I just want to know,” Azriel insists. Eris rolls his eyes. Liar.
“Okay Shadowsinger, whatever you say,” Eris nods at the other and starts to walk off towards his tent, trying not to get his hopes up.
“Eris, wait!” Azriel calls out to him, causing Eris to pause.
“Yes?” He asks, turning around to face the other who hasn’t moved from has spot.
“I…” Eris feels more heat pool into his core at the growl of frustration that Azriel lets out.
“I fucking hate you, but I need to know,” Azriel sounds a mix of conflicted and determined. That is more than what Eris was expecting so he’ll take a win where he can.
“The only thing I will tell you is…,” Eris starts as he approaches Azriel, figuring this is his best chance to let the other know his intentions. Almost as if the Shadowsinger is in a trance he takes a couple steps forward to meet Eris, bringing the two chest to chest. Eris is taller but Azriel is wider with muscles and his wings.
“Hmm” Azriel hums, prompting him. Eris watches as Azriel removes his hands from his pockets and starts to clench and unclench them.
Tell him, his inner omega encourages. Eris knows this is his only chance to get what he wants. If he were to get caught by another loper, not mate him, and his father finds out Eris knows he will never be allowed to participate in another mating run again unless it’s in Autumn and he is loping.
“I’m tired of being empty, Azriel. I want pups, I want a partner, I’m tired of pretending I’m not interested in you,” Eris ignores how Azriel widens his eyes in surprise and continues before he loses his courage, knowing he would be executed by his father if the man ever found out Eris was so weak to his instincts.
“I know what I smelled in that High Lord’s meeting, your hands were around my throat but your alpha was in your eyes and he was daring me not to disobey. I could smell that you wanted me and I can tell that every time you’ve looked at me since you’ve been thinking about it,” Eris sniffs as he feels a tear coming to his eyes, he knows his dream is impossible but he also owes himself one last chance to see it through.
“Remember my scent, Azriel,” Eris shakily reaches out for one of Azriel’s scared hands and takes it into his own, ignoring how his inner omega screams in delight at the contact. Azriel doesn’t resist as Eris brings the shadowsinger’s wrist up to his neck and rubs it against his scent gland before releasing it. He briefly eyes how Azriel’s wings seem to spread wider around the two of them, almost like he’s trying to block Eris from the sight of anyone who may walk by. Eris refuses to get his hopes up, even as he notes how carefully Azriel brings his now-scented hand back to his side.
“Do know, Azriel, if you decide to try and catch me, I won’t make it easy for you. If you successfully catch me, I’ll try to break loose and force you to catch me again. If you give me no other options but to submit to you, I will never let you go. I don’t give second chances, I can’t afford to,” Eris’ amber eyes stay locked on Azriel’s returning hazel gaze, “I refuse to settle for anything less than what I deserve and do not think I will wait for you if some other alpha proves to be stronger.”
Azriel alpha lets out a growl at that statement. Eris ignores the surprise that blinks into Azriel’s eyes at his own reaction and he takes a step back so he can communicate his thoughts clearly—he also begs his inner omega to shut the fuck up about how badly Azriel’s alpha clearly wants them, Eris knows that hope only leads to disappointment. However, Eris also knows that he can’t afford to have any regrets here, so he must finish his piece.
“Think about what you want, Azriel. Don’t let your guilt or loyalty influence your decision. I will say this only once: I refuse to be your back-up option, if you come after me, you better want me.”
With that Eris turns around before Azriel can say anything or shift his expression in response to Eris pouring out his soul for the other to see. He quickly walks away, trying to ignore the eyes he can feel boring into his back as he does so.
That night in his tent Eris weighs the merits of following through with running. The mating run is about lopers chasing the most compatible scent. It’s a bloody affair, lopers often fight each other if they sense another alpha on the path to their runner of desire and even once the loper catches a runner any respectful runner will fight back and make them work for it.
The pre gathering is often a time for lopers and runners to first get familiarized with some scents so they can maybe find one they want to chase the next morning. If he is being honest with himself, Eris is a little embarrassed at how much weakness he showed Azriel in admitting he wants the other to consider him. But Eris also is someone who isn’t afraid to go after what he wants and he knows that realistically this is his only chance. Also he knows that Azriel’s family has probably planted doubts in Azriel’s head so Eris needed to make sure the other saw him as a possible mate.
As Eris lays down to sleep that night, he imagines how tomorrow could go if Azriel decides to choose him. The lopers would get up earlier and paint themselves in their chosen ritualistic symbols from their courts and that represent themselves. The runners would all gather behind the lopers as they line up to race into the forest, ready to compete to find and make the best den before the runners begin. Maybe if Eris is lucky, Azriel will give him a sign that he’s made his decision, that he is going to be coming after him. If that’s the case then Eris knows he won’t be able to stop his cunt from releasing juices as he bathes himself in preparation during the dedicated time while the lopers are in the forest and building dens. Eris would wait with the other runners once he was done, strategizing and planning against possible traps and obstacles that will be in his way. He knows he has an advantage as the heir of Autumn, even if the special powder they take dampen his powers, he grew up jumping from tree to tree along with all his siblings. Eris knows his inner omega will be singing and he will happily take a backseat once it’s finally time to run. He trusts his omega to guide him where to go and he trust in his own strength to keep him safe.
Eris knows he smells good, maple and almonds make a lovely mix and he knows his inner omega won’t be able to stop radiating his scent like a beacon. Eris is only interested in one alpha, and the powder doesn’t affect his wings as they are additional limbs. So he knows if Azriel comes for him, he would come from above. Eris imagines hopping from tree to tree staying under the cover of leaves. He imagines being stuck at one point, up high, the next tree too far for him to make the leap and a crowd of drooling alphas waiting for him to fall. He imagines Azriel finally swooping in and growling at them all, taking care of them viscously. Eris knows his cunt would be dripping at the sight but he also knows that he couldn’t watch he’d have to keep moving.
Eris doesn’t know how Azriel would finally catch him but Eris knows that he’d fight with every fiber of his being, he’d want Azriel to prove that he wants him, that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to claim him, that he’s strong enough to father their pups. He knows that his cunt will be throbbing once he finally submits and he hopes Azriel will take a moment to taste him before he flies them to his den.
Eris imagines that Azriel would probably set up his den in a cave on a mountain, higher than other alphas, easy to defend and probably close to a water and food source. He imagines that Azriel would be thoughtful and supply the cave with nesting materials for Eris to use once he brings him there.
Eris doesn’t even want to imagine what comes next as he knows the idea of Azriel breeding him over and over and claiming him will give him too much hope.
Eris falls asleep, oblivious to the shadows that occupy his tent, their master not planning on letting his dream omega slip away from him when he finally has a chance to make him his.
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OKAY so I wasn’t planning to write all of this, it’s kind of just a story I want to happen but I am too lazy to fully write myself.
But any thoughts?
Also lopers don’t have to kill rival lopers but there’s nothing against it if they do… azriel most definitely will eliminate threats.
(Also this is just an idea, if someone were to write something like this I would spread my legs for them especially if they added smut and gore WOOT)
I actually love the mating run trope it's such a guilty pleasure for me in omegaverse fics... whenever I see a mating run fic on ao3 I just sigh in appreciation like YES we're still doing this... keep it up guys... I don't care if it's been done a million times I wanna read it a MILLION more
Jayce/Viktor – Part 3/3 – mating run – extreme insertion/belly bulge/size difference; bitching – Jayce trying to keep the feral brain at bay but it's so difficult when Viktor is so tasty.
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Viktor feels impossibly skinny beneath Jayce. Not small, he’s a tall man in his own right, though Jayce usually thrones over everybody, but he is so painfully thin that he does not dare put any weight on him once he does mount up.
He shouldn’t, anyway; not with Viktor’s knee being the way that it is. He’s a heavy sonoffagun and he does not want to put the other Alpha through more than he absolutely…
“Ah… oh God,” Viktor groans once Jayce starts to push his crown into the struggling, desperate clench of his body. He is silky hot inside and it takes everything that he has left to wrestle down the feral urge of fucking inside with two or three rude thrusts to seat himself as deep inside his bitch as possible.
Jayce closes his eyes and tries to sound calm through the clench of his teeth. “You’re doing so well… b-breathe. Breathe through it, alright?”
He’s bracing himself on his elbows and staring right at the nape of Viktor’s neck. His long hair has split over it, leaving it exposed and vulnerable in the same way that his sweet little cunt was, suckling on the crown splitting it open but also trying to somehow keep it out. The sweet struggle of an Alpha unused to getting topped.
Jayce is addicted. His teeth ache in his gums with the need to bury them right in that delicious neck while his hips keep rolling, inching his cock deeper and deeper into Viktor until his glans finally pops inside and they both whimper with the feeling of it.
Viktor is clenching fists full of the loamy forest soil between his fingers. Jayce wishes he could see his face. See the blissed out expression of accomplishment at having gotten over the widest part of his dick; only for it to crumble in delirious disbelief when Jayce would push in deeper and deeper and make him realize that his cock did in fact swell around the middle of the shaft again, wrenching him wide open all anew.
The sounds he’s making as Jayce rocks into him. High pitched little whines, body trembling and stuck between wanting to relax for him and wanting to fight the whole intrusion. His Alpha instincts are running rampant, Jayce can practically taste it on the back of his tongue and it makes him want to eat him whole.
By the time his hips are finally flush with Viktor, they’re both panting and exhausted. Viktor’s hair is plastered to his sweat slick skin, his shirt going practically see-through. He is drenched just having Jayce’s massive cock inside him, and when Jayce wraps an arm carefully around his middle, he can feel the bulge of himself in Viktor’s lower belly.
The feeling of touching himself through the outside is sending electric waves of pleasure racing down his legs and up his spine until he feels like he is about to vibrate out of his own skin.
He wants to keep praising Viktor; keep reassuring him that he is doing perfect and that he makes Jayce feel so, so, so good, but he can’t fathom human words at the moment. They’re far beyond him, so he just leans down and starts to lick at the protruding knob of Viktor’s spine visible just above the collar of his shirt and lightly nibbles on it while he pulls his hips back incrementally and fucks back forward.
Viktor makes a sound like a sob, his whole body shuddering, then suddenly breaking away on one side when his hips give out on the side of his injured knee.
Luckily, Jayce has his arm still around him, carefully holding him up as he slowly starts maneuvering them onto their sides. It's an unconventional breeding position, but he can’t say that he minds. Not when Viktor fits so perfectly to his front and feels so incredible around his cock.
He can’t believe that he’s actually managed to take all of him. There’s no Omega slick to ease the way, no sweet little hole that was literally built to take an Alpha. Just him being determined somehow to take Jayce and Lord, when he curls around him he can peer over Viktor’s shoulder and see his cock pushing against his belly from the inside.
The bulge is entirely too obscene. It makes Jayce lose his mind all over again.
“Fuck,” he gasps, the only word somehow still racing around his skull for the moment. He doesn’t even have the wherewithal to be ashamed for his cursing before the words just keep spilling out: “Perfect; you’re perfect. Can you feel me? Can you… Lord, I want to knot you.”
Viktor chokes on a startled sob, his hands fluttering like butterflies through the air, then grabbing on to Jayce’s forearm in a vice that makes him wince even in his feral breeding brain.
“You can’t! It won’t fit!” he gasps, desperation making his insides hug Jayce so tight that for a few seconds all he can hear is the rush of desperate blood in his ears as he fights tooth and nail against the instinct to roll over, bury Viktor beneath him and fuck.
He breathes through it, eyes closed, the ringing subsiding somewhat to let him once again tune in to the sound of Viktor still babbling, voice rough and accent so thick Jayce can feel it pulsing warm and soothing behind his forehead: “Much too big, Alpha; so warm inside me; can feel you in my ribcage-”
Jayce’s hips jerk at that. Viktor sounds delirious. Delirious on cock, and he is so warm and so welcoming; still just letting this big feral-dumb Alpha fuck into him and not putting up any resistance to it.
There’s no way that he can bitch him in this single session. It takes a lot more for that to take and he wants it so so bad. He presses his wet mouth against Viktor’s bony shoulder, smearing it there in lieu of actually biting down even though his jaw aches with the need to do it.
He ruts into him; just dragging a couple inches of cock through Viktor’s clenching, magma hot passage while listening to his whistling, over-exerted breathing.
Every now and then, Viktor’s cock taps against the back of Jayce’s forearm. He wants to reach for it, jerk him off, but he can’t make himself let go of the ape-like grip he has around the slender Alpha.
“Please,” he gasps into Viktor’s shoulder. “Please! Please!”
He does not know what he’s asking for. But maybe Viktor does, because he throws his head back, nearly breaking Jayce’s nose in the prospect, and starts to come. Just like that. Without a hand on his dick. His narrow hips jump like those of a rabbit with its hind feet caught in a snare.
Jayce wraps himself even tighter around the other to ride it out, pressing his mouth so hard into Viktor’s shoulder that the other has to feel his large mating fangs through his lips.
His eyes are wide open but he isn’t seeing a single thing as his cock gets choked the life out of it by the writhing, bucking Alpha in his arms.
He needs him. He needs him. There is no way he can let him go again after this. He feels like he could go full on unhinged and stalk him if Viktor actually decided he did not want to keep getting bitched by Jayce.
He can feel himself going insane for this slim Alpha that he barely even knows.
He bucks forward, cock kicking in Viktor’s molten insides – and it is the feeling of his tip bumping into his own forearm clamped around Viktor’s belly that actually sends him over the edge.
His eyes water, his knot inflates – outside Viktor’s warm grasp – and he wrenches his head around and bites his own bicep in lieu of gnashing his teeth around Viktor’s shoulder and likely shattering his thin little collarbone.
They’re breathing harsh and exhausted, Viktor sounding on the verge of hyperventilation for a while there before he starts to calm down, his insides still periodically pulsing around the big Alpha’s big dick.
“How long?” he gasps eventually.
Jayce blinks slow and delirious, pulling his teeth from his arm, lips slick with his own blood.
“...Huh?”
“Until you can go again,” Viktor clarifies impatiently, a little whine in his throat. “I need it again, Alpha.”
Jayce whimpers, nodding obediently, chest growing warm with affection and relief.
“Just a little. Just a little. I can go again. I’ll take care of you. Just… just give me a few minutes.”
Viktor makes a little sound, somewhere between a growl and a purr. He sounds satisfied.
I'm thinking this eve, of a mating run. Not your usual alpha-chases-omega-pounce-sex mating run, not necessarily, but more of a trust your gut, go into the woods alone, come out engaged sort of a mating run.
Mating run where it's a harvest festival, and everyone comes to have fun and to celebrate. Mating runs where there's an announcer who heckles anyone a bit too focused on one particular person - for into the woods you go and who you'll find, nobody knows!
Mating runs where the alphas get a head start, and run, aimless and fast through the tangled roots and low hanging branches (and if you don't live near a forest, mating runs where they race along the sand, trying not to get stuck in the sinkholes, or where they jog through a park, hopping over dog poo and discarded glass bottles, picking a path through a garbage heap - a mating run isn't restricted to a forest after all)
Mating runs where the omegas give chase, running after the others with no particular person in mind, just the trust in the moon and the chase and themselves - for into the woods you go, and who you'll be when you come out, nobody knows!
Mating runs where, more often than not, the catch occurs near a fruit tree (or a briar, or a coffee shop, or a nice patch of mushrooms) and when caught, the alpha is flushed and blushed and scent struck - for on the chase you'll find what you need, who matches you for you and who will stick to you like glue.
Mating runs where they both traipse back to the tent and sit down to fill in a two page form wherein they detail all those doctor questions but some of the kink ones and a few of the past relationship ones - for out of the forest they've come, and often, they've never seen the other person before.
Mating runs that might merge into a year and a day marriage, but where there is absolutely no onus on the couple to remain entangled by the time the next mating run comes back around.
what about a mating run au where omega Peter's freshly presented and on his first run, then he gets caught by alpha tony whose on his last and nearly didn't participate
Fact 90: Dancing is the main courting ritual but there was a different kind of social gathering in times before: the Mating Run.
The Mating Run is a voluntary chase where the omegas prove their prowess by running from the alphas, who prove their skill by chasing them. Those who didn't want to participate and betas, who were not allowed to join (olden times were less inclusive of the beta population in regards to romance than they are now), watched and mingled. Packs and pack members came from miles to participate in the run.
Fact 91: It was common, expected even, for participating members to wear a ribbon or garment with the colors or symbol of their pack on it. If one were to wear no associated colors then they would be declaring themselves to be a lone wolf.
Fact 91.5: This is why it's socially distasteful if a pack member didn't wear their color, as they would be insulting their pack in front of everyone.
