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#im completely different than what he thinks or what my family think
ikusayu-no-hana · 6 months
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having a meltdown over jerry pinto's translator's note in Cobalt Blue
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transmascissues · 2 months
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it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?
first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.
one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.
this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.
oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.
basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.
but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!
at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.
just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.
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goldsainz · 10 months
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THE COOLEST DRIVER — one shot.
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pairing: lando norris x reader
MASTERLIST.
summary: when you introduced lando to your siblings, you didn’t think they would become so attached.
request: “Lando × reader. Your younger siblings who are 2 and 3 are crazy about Lando. Lando is amazing with them they don't like when you to hug/ kiss him Though. "No he's mine!" Your sister says as she pushes you away. When you go for a kiss. "My Lando time" your brother says. Snuggling into Lando. You find it adorable but annoying. Fans love it.”
warnings: im pretty sure that none
NOTE: thank you for requesting!!!! so this is short and sweet, and i also added a little smau at the end 🫶 i’m in my lando obsessed era. so if you suddenly see a lot of lando content posted, just let it be. silverstone grand prix has me so so excited, can’t wait… also fingers crossed lewis gets podium🤞
[ word count: 737 ]
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Lando and you had been going out for quite some time now. It was as serious as a relationship could get, and evidently, he had met your family. 
It was no surprise when your siblings got obsessed with him and just about followed him everywhere. They wanted to go to every Grand Prix you went to, because if you could, why couldn't they? It took quite some time for them to understand that you were an adult, and as such could do what you pleased. 
Your brother adored Lando. He tuned in for every race and Lando quickly became his idol, even though he would never really say it out loud. Suddenly, he wanted to be a driver too. Your boyfriend was more than happy to help him out with his dream, and since he was so little, he could have a shot at doing it for a long time. 
Your sister however, seemed to like Lando in a completely different way. Whenever she saw Lando he would hug him while burying her face in his neck, hiding her smitten face. There was no way you could ever kiss or even be too close to Lando if she was present, not if you wanted to avoid the tantrum she would throw. Claiming Lando was hers, and that you were stealing him from her. 
Lando loved your siblings. It was refreshing to have such support from little humans, who idolised him and always got excited to see him. So it was no surprise when for this year’s Silverstone Grand Prix, his home race, he invited your whole family to the paddock.
When you broke the news to your siblings they ran to hug Lando, their excitement almost pushing him off balance as he attempted to hold both of them at the same time. It was a sight to behold, and you wished you would've gotten it on camera because it was just too precious. 
“Go pack your bags!” You told them, watching as they scrambled to their rooms.
“I can’t believe they are coming.” Lando says, one wrapped around your waist, pulling you in for a side hug.
“They can’t even believe it themselves.” 
You watched your parents talk with Lando over the schedule, all while holding you in his arms. They both couldn’t stop expressing their gratitude, and your boyfriend just repeated that it was his pleasure and there was nothing he would love more than having all of you there. 
His sweet words made your heart rush, and you turned to face him just for a quick peck since your parents were still around. You should have known what a bad idea that was, because all of a sudden your siblings appear in the room and they cannot hold in their disgust. 
“Ew!” Your brother shouted, covering his face with his little hands.
Your sister ran to push you off of Lando, not liking the sudden closeness. Your mother rolled her eyes at the dramatics your siblings loved to display. Lando just brushed off your mother’s concern, more amused at the reaction than anything. 
“Hey! We’re not going to Silverstone if you behave like that.” You tell them, you know you’re lying because there is no way you are not taking them. Not when you know how excited they are.
“No!” Your sister screeches, wrapping her arms around Lando’s leg as if to show how much she wants to go.
“Did you pack your bags?” Lando asks your sister, kneeling down to her level. 
“Yes.” She says, her voice muffled now that she has thrown her arms around him.
“And your brother?” 
“I think so.”
Your brother takes his hands off of his face the moment he hears he was mentioned. Moving to sit beside Lando, an annoyed look passes his face as he watches his sister.
“You excited to go to Silverstone?” Your boyfriend asks, knowing full well your brother is bursting at the seams of excitement. 
“Very!”
“Is there anyone you’re excited to meet?” 
“Lewis!” 
“Lewis?” Lando asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he hears the emotion on your brother’s voice. 
“He’s so cool!” 
“Is he?”
“Yes!” A giggle pushes its way past your brother’s lips, suddenly bashful at the admission.
“Cooler than me?”
“No, silly.” He says with an obvious tone, face palming himself as if the answer was obvious, “You’re the coolest driver ever!” 
“That’s what I like to hear!” 
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norrizzandpia · 5 months
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hi honey! can u pls do a lando or oscar x american!reader who’s like not f1 and is actually a really bad driver cause like literally my life lol. thank u love u
I CANT DRIVE FOR SHIT THOSE CURBS LOVE ME SO I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE YOU TOO
British v. American (OP81)
Summary: In which Oscar tries to teach his girlfriend how to drive in England. The only catch? She’s never driven on the other side of the road. Oh, and she’s never driven anywhere else except for California.
Warnings: Oscar showing emotion lol, language, im serious this man PANICS
Note: YALL SAW HIS CUTIE LITTLE LETTERMAN JACKET MOMENT TODAY IN VEGAS????? HEART EYES. IM IN LOVE WITH HIM.
Oscar was very well-versed in dangerous driving. He knew that, his family knew that, his friends knew that, everyone knew that. His girlfriend, however, seemed to think otherwise. He was gripping onto the handle of his McLaren as she shot down the street of his apartment complex.
“Y/n! Slow down!” He yelped, willing his hands not to fly over and grab the steering wheel.
She giggled, “Osc, I’m going 45.”
He shook his head, leaning over slightly to see if she was right. She was. He let out a breath of relief, seemingly renewed with his usual calmness, “Okay, that’s fine. You’re fine.” He mumbled to himself, “You love her. You’re doing this because you love her. You want her to be able to get around safely because you want her around more, visiting more, and you need peace of mind yourself when she’s by herself. You’re fine, Oscar. You’re literally fine.”
“Done talking to yourself? I have no clue what I’m doing here.” His girlfriend, the girl in question, laughed as she slowed down, almost coming to a stop in the middle of his residential area.
He nodded, forearm resting on the console as he moved closer to her. His finger pointed straight, “Go that way. I’m just going to have you go down to that coffee shop we love a few minutes away. You remember how to get there?”
She smiled, “Yeah, I love it there! Can we get coffee grounds when we get there? You used the last of them this morning.”
His head tilted as he stared at her, heart soaring randomly at the way she cared so much over such a domestic subject, “Sure, baby.”
He watched as she turned out of the neighborhood and onto the street, joining the cluster of cars. Considering she had never driven the way Europeans do and the fact that she was an inherently bad driver, Oscar was sweating with nerves and worry over his precious car. He had tried to give her a crash course when they first got in, but she had waved him off, explaining that British roads couldn’t be that much different than American roads.
Y/n was proved painfully wrong when they came to a sign and she had no clue what it meant. She stopped, cars honking loudly behind her, “What the fuck is that?!”
Oscar jumped out of his seat, “What are you doing?! Go! Go! It’s give way, Y/n! Why are you stopped?!”
She blushed in embarrassment, “WHAT THE FUCK IS GIVE WAY?!”
He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed, “YIELD! IT’S YIELD IN AMERICA! DON’T FUCKING STOP, BABE! THERE ARE NO CARS! DON’T STOP!” He exclaimed, hands waving around as the cars stopped behind them began yelling out of their windows.
She stepped on the gas, pulling through the intersection with haste, both her’s and Oscar’s heads whipping backwards as the throttle really gave in. His hands came to grip the car once more, eyes wide as she began weaving through traffic.
His heart beat out of his chest when she turned the car, remembering the direction at the last minute, and almost scrapped the side of his car right on the curb.
“Y/N!” He yelled, though not angrily, rather surprised and terrified. He watched in horror as she apologized, however not letting up on her reckless driving. The car pulled forward quickly when the car in front of her was completely stopped at a light, she slammed on the brakes, coming within centimeters of the other’s rear. When the car stopped moving, finally, Oscar turned slowly to his girlfriend with a look of astonishment, “What the fuck.”
She smiled at him, that grin getting her out of Oscar’s anger, “Sorry, baby, but you knew exactly what you were getting into when you asked me to drive.”
He shook his head, “It’s been five minutes and you’ve stopped at a give way sign, almost ruined the pristine wrap I have on this car, and tried to rear end someone!”
She laughed, “Almost is the key word to all of that, Osc! I almost did that. But, none of it actually happened! Gotta think positive, Pastry!”
He just blinked at her, wishing desperately that he could take hold of his prized possession. The light changed, the cars moving again, and Oscar was close to clawing at his eyes, only then would he be able to not see the rest of her wild driving.
The trend continued as she went into a roundabout and missed the exit, having to go around six more times trying to find the correct one. Even after that, when they were seconds from their destination, she tried parking, but almost hit the car next to her head on when she pulled in. Oscar was in awe as she shrugged off every mistake, backing up and trying again as if she wasn’t driving one of the most expensive, rare cars on Earth.
When she put it in park, unbuckling and getting out cheerily, he stayed in the car, breathing heavily. He sat there for a few moments. Long enough for his girlfriend to open his door and crouch down to his level. She looked up at him from her position, laying her hand on his knee, “Oscar, baby, you okay?”
He shook his head, “No.”
Y/n giggled from beside him, “I’m sorry, Osc. I know my driving’s erratic.”
He nodded, “Yeah and in my car.”
She smiled, running her hand up and down his leg, “Does it make you feel better if you drive home?”
“Yes.” He began, looking at her hesitantly, “I know I said I wanted you to be able to get around by yourself when you’re visiting me, but I think it’d be best if I just drove you around when you’re with me. More time to spend together!”
Y/n chuckled when he tried to soften the blow by leaning down and pecking her lips, “Oscar, that’s fine by me. I hate driving anyway.”
“You do?!” He asked, groaning loudly.
“Yeah! I know I suck at it! I hate doing it!” She explained.
He threw up his hands, “Well, I didn’t know that! I wouldn’t have asked you in the first place! I just went through all of that for nothing!”
She stood up, stepping back as he followed her out. He closed the door, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into him while leaning against the car.
He linked her other hand in his and twisted them behind her, his arms linking around her as she whispered against his face, “At least I got us here alive?”
“Alive, but traumatized.”
She pulled away, walking away and toward the store, “Oh, stop being a drama queen or else I’ll never give these back!”
She held the keys in between her fingers, dangling there and taunting her boyfriend. He leaned off the car, running after her frantically, “GIVE ME THOSE BACK RIGHT NOW, Y/N Y/L/N!”
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loth-creatures · 5 months
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this might be mildly incoherant bc im so so sleepy right now but every time i think about ezra in relation to like,,, depa and mace i get really emotional bc i get it!!! theyre his grandparents and he doesn't get to meet them!!!! mace already reminds me so much of my greatgrandma (very strong, believes in the good but understands that sometimes its hard to do good) and depa reminds me of my pop and i get so emotional he doesn't have his extended family ueueueueueueue srry ur the ezra blog to me
SO FUNNY STORY DEAR ANON
I see this in my inbox at 4am delirious, and I stared at it completely dumbfounded, only bc it's a wildly different genre of ask than what I usually get but it is EXACTLY the type of ask dearly beloved mutual @tobytost gets. And I was literally like. What am I doing in Toby's inbox how did I get here wha? And then I was like. NO WAY. ANON SWAPPED OUR BLOGS SGHDDF
Anyway we both found this absolutely hilarious and decided to do a collab!! Bc you are so right, Ezra deserves to know his grandmasters <3
Anon, idk if you for reals mixed up our blogs by accident but either way I'm kissing you 1 million times bc WE HAD SO MUCH FUN WITH THIS!!!!
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Process vid below cut!! We passed it back n forth :3
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aemndx · 1 year
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— 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄.
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gif credit.
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© aemvnd 2022. do not plagiarize, translate, modify or post my content on any other platform.
synopsis: aemond targaryen wants to possess you, claim you as his -- and what the dragon wants, he shall get.
author’s note: heey! this is my first time posting my writing on here.. im a bit nervous, but very excited. i really hope u enjoy reading it. also, please reblog, comment + leave ur feedback! it’d mean the world to me if u did. thank u so much for taking the time to read & visiting my blog! lots of love. ♡
warnings: minors dni. slight smut. sexual tension. fingering. teasing. female pronouns. possessive behavior. dark themes. stalking--(kind of). aemond makes you have a panic attack over him -- intentionally. innocent!reader. pet names. romance. fluff. any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.
word count: 3,7k.
pairings: aemond targaryen x handmaiden!reader (f).
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♡࿐ the castle was lively with noble lords and ladies, most of them ignoring you, in favor of socializing with the higher ranks to make alliances between different royal houses. most didn’t even spare you a glance, which you were most thankful for.
the ones who did acknowledge your existence–there were very few–nodded their head in a polite greeting, which you had stopped and curtsied back in respect, muttering a small ‘my lord’ or a ‘my lady’.
which of course–as obviously predicted–filled their massive egos as they walked away with their noses up in the air. of course, no one ever actually bowed to you, you were nothing but a young servant girl, born from a low ranking family.
however, you always preferred to remain unseen – better to be unseen and avoid trouble, than to be seen and cause chaos.
you had just been dismissed, as you finished accompanying queen helaena on her daily walk through the gardens. the queen loved spending time outdoors, and it seemed only right, she was always at peace when she was in nature and the sunshine did her good.
the hallways of the red keep were long as you made your way to the massive library, your footsteps light as air as you walked. the closer you got, the less people there were and you were thankful, never having been too comfortable with tons of people around.
as you continued walking, swiftly turning a corner and heading towards the last flight of stairs that led to the library, you got the sudden feeling as if you were being followed.
naturally, you hurried your footsteps, sneaking a glance behind you and not seeing anyone. nonetheless, you quickly climbed up the stairs, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat. you snapped your neck to the side as you started hearing light footsteps approaching, though you did not see anyone behind you once again, making you think you were crazy.
huffing in frustration, you had just stepped off the last stair, about to round the corner, looking down the hallway and seeing it completely empty. you turned your body slightly around to look back down the staircase, making sure there was nobody actually following you.
thankfully, you saw nobody. perhaps it had just been your mind playing tricks on you, though you couldn’t shake the feeling of a sharp gaze piercing your back. releasing a shaky breath, a bone numbing chill went down your spine, making you wrap your arms around yourself, before you turned back around to finally head towards your destination.
without warning, a pale hand snatched out towards you, wrapping around your waist and pushing you against the nearest secluded wall, causing you to let out a high pitched scream in fear. the hand that grabbed you quickly moved from your waist to cover your mouth, silencing your cries.
you saw a flash of platinum blonde hair from the corner of your eye, causing your wide eyes to look up, seeing none other than prince aemond targaryen, standing casually before you.
the prince stood tall, tilting his head down to look at you with a smirk across his lips. he pressed his body against yours, holding you between the hard stone wall and his lean but well muscled body.
“i’ll remove my hand only if you promise not to scream again,” the prince said, his tone soft but firm.
you nodded your head as best you could, not understanding what was happening.
the prince simply cocked his head sideways, his eye slightly narrowing as he looked over your current frightened state. only a moment passed, the prince letting out a pleased hum as if he saw what he was looking for, before removing his hand from your mouth.
“prince aemond,” you breathed, your body falling limp against the wall behind you.
“lady [name],” the prince purred, looking completely satisfied with himself, like the cat who got the cream.
you swallowed nervously, shifting your feet from side to side, but stopped shortly as you could barely move. “did you need something from me, my prince?”
the prince sighed, amusement slowly spreading across his handsome face. “yes, in fact.. i did. correct me if i’m wrong, but have you been avoiding me, my lady?”
you cursed yourself in your head, before immediately shaking your head no. “of course n-not, my prince. i was just going to visit the library–“
“oh, i am not talking about right this moment, my sweet. i am referring to the past few weeks. every single time i have sought you out, you had the brilliant idea to turn around rather abruptly and scurry away from me as if you were a scared little girl,” he scolded, making you feel incredibly small against him.
the prince paused, watching your face with a sharp eye, before continuing on his rant. “…and let us not forget yesterday,” he seethed, a flash of anger beginning to taint his words. “when you deliberately rushed out of my dear sister’s chambers, without even being dismissed,” he tsked, teasingly. you did not say anything in response, feeling as if you had lost all brain function with the close proximity of the prince.
his clean, but masculine scent surrounded you, causing your mouth to water as you could also smell honey and sweet lemon cakes. his scent completely overwhelmed your senses, making you feel almost dizzy, especially with his handsome face only mere inches away from yours.
when you couldn’t didn’t reply back, the prince raised an eyebrow as if taunting you to try and defend yourself and your most heinous–(according to him)–actions.
“nothing to say, hm?”
you gulped, your lips parting slightly as if to speak, before snapping shut when words did not come out.
what was wrong with you?
“it is highly offensive to not answer your prince when he is addressing you, my lady,” he chastised, as if you were a child misbehaving.
in his point of view, you probably were.
“what? do you not even want to try and defend your most ill-mannered actions? have you not come to the realization that your blatant lack of respect is incredibly unacceptable to me?” he growled, voice rising in anger.
you should’ve known better, waking up the dragon.
“do you not wish for my forgiveness?” he hissed, his words aimed to hurt you.
you flinched as he scolded you like a father would to their child who had done something naughty – unforgivable.
each word he said was direct and targeted towards you, making a small, tortuous whine escape your lips. your cheeks flushed in shame and your head started to spin, you were sure you would die from embarrassment.
“i’m so s-sorry, my prince. of course n-not.. i was just – i was not… no,” you panicked, feeling pathetic and most of all embarrassed from your constant stuttering and shaky voice.
you felt so stupid.
“i swear, i was not trying to be disrespectful towards you, i-i don’t… i did not mean to run away from you, i promise!“ you cried, feeling yourself practically choking on the saliva in your mouth, your fingertips tingling by your sides and your heart was pounding against your ribcage rapidly.
“please, prince aemond.. i never meant any disrespect. i was just.. i was o-only–“ you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp, feeling like your airway was closing. you tried explaining yourself, though everything you were saying sounded like it made little sense and your words were a garbled mess.
hot tears began to pool in your eyes as the prince just watched in shameless amusement as you choked and fumbled over your words, trying to the best of your ability to explain your poor, pathetic self.
graciously, the one-eyed prince showed you mercy.
“alright, alright… shh. you’re alright, little one. i believe you,” the prince cooed, bringing both of his large hands up to cup your flushed face.
the tears that had pooled in your eyes now falling freely, which he had generously brushed away gently with the soft but calloused pads of his thumbs.
“you do?” you cried weakly, feeling your tightened chest begin to relax at his reassuring words.
“mmm,” he hummed lazily, wiping the heated skin of your cheeks lovingly, like he was your lover comforting you after something tragic happened.
“of course, my love. i could never stay truly angry with you,” he confessed, a small smile tugging at his lips as his eye remained looking into your tearful ones.
you felt your wobbly lips turn up into a shy smile, relaxing in the arms of the prince.
you sighed, feeling your limbs relax, thankfully no longer feeling like you were about to pass out from the blood that had rushed to your head in your haste of trying to come up with something to appease him.
gods be good, the last thing you wanted was for him to be upset and angry at you.
“thank you, prince aemond… you have no idea how happy that makes me to hear you say that,” you confessed, locking your eyes with his, though you felt an uncomfortable shiver pass through you, seeing the twinkle of mischief in the prince’s eye.
“…of course, there is still the issue that you purposely avoided me,” he said, watching you with a narrowed eye, irritation bubbling underneath the surface of his heated skin, remembering the many times you had practically ran away from him.
it was almost adorable, thinking you could outrun a dragon.
the gods were surely mocking you now, as he had finally seized you in his fiery grasp, not intending on ever letting you go.
prince aemond watched you try and press your back further into the wall, wanting the castle wall to swallow you whole so that you could disappear from him.
it was like he could read your every thought, all you wanted to do was hide from him.
you did not answer him to confirm his accusation against you, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right – even though you both knew he was.
a brief pause, you felt yourself stop breathing completely, holding your breath and waiting for his next words. you were terrified, who wouldn’t be?
“although.. perhaps i shall be merciful towards you, my sweet,” he breathed, bringing his hands down to your waist and gripping your sides tightly to the point it almost hurt.
aemond carefully watched your face to see if you would be brave enough to push him away, before he shook his head and chuckled lightly to himself, watching you bite down on your bottom lip nervously.
suddenly, the prince spoke out loud to himself rather than to you. “mmm… i wonder,” he murmured, suddenly playful as he let one of his hands travel further down, grabbing the skirt of your dress in his hand, bunching it together and tugging it up until both of your bare legs were exposed to him.
letting go of your waist with his other hand, he reached a large hand underneath your dress, placing the warm palm of his hand directly over your clothed cunt.
you let out a surprised gasp, eyes big and innocent and looking up to see his face that looked rightfully pleased, feeling your cunt soaking through your undergarments.
the prince cupped your cunt fully, pressing his palm up against your clit to apply pressure. “mm, prince aemond…”you mewled, trailing off as you felt the most pleasurable sensation start to swarm in your lower belly.
“oh,” you gasped wantonly, looking up at the prince in desperation.
what was happening to you?!
“indeed,” the prince smirked, leaning his head down to nuzzle his nose into your hair, sighing in content at being so close to you.
finally, he thought.
he inhaled your sweet scent for a moment, pressing a kiss against the side of your head, before moving his head back when he felt an uncontrollable yearning sensation spread throughout his body.
with his eye trained back on you, the hand that was cupping your cunt did not move, simply holding you in his possession and making you feel as if you were slowly losing your mind at the pressure he held against your sensitive clit.
nobody had ever touched you there, you were a maiden – a virgin, pure of heart and of mind and body.
“m-my prince..” you stuttered, your voice coming out small and uncertain.
suddenly, you felt prince aemond’s fingers swiftly move your undergarments to the side, pressing two fingers against your clit, rubbing it softly as if you’d break.
you didn’t doubt it.
you immediately cried out, your legs shaking and head buzzing at the new sensation. you had never felt such pleasure, it was beyond your imagination. you didn’t know what to do, you didn’t even remember reaching up with both hands and grasping at the prince’s shoulders.
when exactly had you done that?
feeling embarrassed, you let your fluttering eyes fall down to prince aemond’s clothed chest, though you could still feel his piercing eye watching your flushed face.
you didn’t know of course, but the one-eyed prince loved to watch you in secret.
it was one of his favorite hobbies, filling him with mirth as he would watch you fret over his sister, following after her to keep her company. although, you did not just serve her, you were now also a close friend to queen helaena.
you were young and sweet as honey, acting just as curious as his sister was with insects, though he knew you found genuine interest in different flowers and plants, just as well as books. you’d only been working at the castle for a few months, helping out in the kitchens.
it was only a few weeks ago that you’d began serving as a handmaiden to his sister, that was when he had truly taken notice to you.
you were so beautiful.
there were also many times where he’d deliberately put himself in your eye line, watching you with an amused smirk curling across his lips as he watched you stumble a multitude of times, once you eventually noticed him.
the prince would watch you for an uncomfortable amount of time, before you’d quickly turn around and scurry away from him, flustered and your belly always swarming with butterflies and something else.
his eye would always flash with hunger every time he saw you walking the halls of the red keep, wanting to claim you as his.
there was one time just a few days ago, when he’d gone to visit his sister unexpectedly, making your eyes widen at the sight of him entering his sister’s chambers unannounced, instantly shrinking away from him.
you had not uttered a single word the entire time he was there, simply humming in acknowledgment as the queen would ask your opinion on something, trying to make you join in on the conversation she was having with her brother.
occasionally, you would mutter something underneath your breath, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration as you tried to keep your focus on doing his sister’s hair, though by his close proximity, he could see your shaking hands.
not once did aemond take his eye off of you the entire time he had been there, making your skin crawl with nervousness.
gods, you were so perfect. so, so perfect. you would be his, he would make sure of it. he would have you all to himself, he had to – lest he go insane.
suddenly, the prince had slipped a single long finger inside your dripping cunt, pumping his finger in and out a few times experimentally, before shoving it back inside and curling it inside of you, feeling the silky walls of your heat clamp down around his finger.
you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible, but you couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped you. you looked back up at the prince pleadingly, your eyebrows furrowed and sweat was beginning to form at the back of your neck from the constant pleasure he was giving you.
aemond let out a soft hum, his eye filled with lust and possessiveness, before he eventually leaned down and captured your lips with his in a earth shattering kiss.
you moaned helplessly into his mouth, kissing him back with a burning desire that began to consume you both, feeling his warm tongue snake out and brush over your lower lip, begging for entrance.
your lips parted on their own accord, feeling the prince’s tongue slip into your needy mouth, tasting you.
aemond let out a deep groan of satisfaction, tasting how sweet you tasted, like different kinds of berries. he ran his tongue over the roof of your mouth, feeling your tongue slowly brush up shyly against his, as if asking for his permission.
of course, the prince denied you and bit down on your lower lip in punishment, causing you to let out a pained wail in displeasure.
you whined with need, pressing your hips down against his hand, begging for more, more, more.
you’d take whatever the prince would give to you, everything and anything – it was all yours, all you need to do was ask him and aemond would burn cities to ground to see you happy.
aemond quickly slipped in a second deft finger, pumping them both with vigor. the wet sounds your cunt made were loud and lewd, though you paid it little mind.
instantaneously, the prince dragged his lips down to your jaw, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin there.
you dropped your head down, pressing your face into the warmth of the prince’s chest as your body trembled against his. then, you felt his thumb brush over your sensitive clit once more, beginning to rub the little nub in tight circles, causing you to squeal in endless pleasure.
“oh, ohhh – please, don’t stop prince aemond…!” you sobbed, feeling yourself begin to hyperventilate and something inside your belly was starting to tighten almost uncomfortably, making you squirm wildly against him.
aemond chuckled, kissing the top of your head and bringing up the hand that was holding your dress up to your hair, burying his fingers into the soft locks, caressing the back of your head lovingly.
“let go for me, little one. go on, give it to me.”
your small hands that were grasping the prince’s shoulders squeezed rather harshly, and if you were in your right state of mind you would’ve apologized profusely, but right now… you could not even forge a coherent thought.
“please, please – i need.. i need to–“ you choked, suddenly feeling the band that was tightening in your belly snap, an overwhelming feeling of immense pleasure swarming over you, suffocating you.
your breathing was erratic, your head spinning and your eyes squeezed shut as you felt your body be consumed by euphoria.
it was maddening.
“that’s it, my love,” aemond purred from above you, gently stroking the back of your head tenderly, continuing the assault of his skilled fingers.
aemond pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt slowly now, while leisurely rubbing lazy circles into your clit as he felt you come in the palm of his hand, your pleasurable cries like music to his ears.
aemond hummed, “you’re mine now, do you understand? mine – you belong to me.”
you let out pathetic whines, leaning your full weight against the prince uncaringly.
you were too wrapped up in the pleasure he was giving you to really notice.
a few seconds later, you began feeling overstimulated, a displeased sound escaping you, before you pulled your head back and leaned it against the hard stone wall tiredly.
the prince’s fingers continuously fingered you through your high, and the way his thumb pressed into your pulsing clit sent electric shocks throughout your body, causing you to tense up once again.
looking up, you caught the eye of the devilishly handsome prince that towered over you, making you feel small compared to him.
charmingly, he smiled.
of course, the feeling of the stone wall made you frown in annoyance, feeling uncomfortable without the prince’s soft touch in your hair, caressing you. you dropped one of your hands from the prince’s shoulder, grabbing hold of his wrist that was buried under the layers of your maid’s dress.
aemond immediately paused the movements of his hand, though he kept his fingers buried deep inside of you, raising an eyebrow in question.
you sucked in a deep breath, trying to gather as much courage as you possibly could, but bracing yourself for the worse.
finally, you spoke. “…i will not be your whore, prince aemond,” you said, trying to make your voice as even and as firm as possible. however, you could hear your voice shake slightly at the end, cursing yourself for your bashfulness.
a minute of silence passed, the prince’s face completely blank of any emotion, giving you nothing as your eyes glanced over his face back and forth, silently begging to know what he was thinking.
then, out of nowhere, he laughed loudly. the sound almost pleasing to your ears as it echoed off the walls, just as your moans from earlier had.
your eyes went wide in disbelief, wondering if he was laughing at you. you surely hoped not, you’d be terribly disappointed.
as the prince’s laughter slowly died down, he observed you for a moment silently, before his lips curled up into a wicked smile, “no, you will not be my whore,” he hissed crudely, his eye narrowing at you and the blood in his veins bubbling with fire as he looked down at you intensely.
you tried swallowing, but your mouth appeared dry, waiting for his words. without warning, the prince leaned down once again and crashed his lips against yours, claiming you and causing you to release a pleased sound.
the prince wanted you to be his, truly his.
you couldn’t help the fluttering feeling in your chest, as well as the nervous butterflies swarming in your belly at the thought that maybe… just maybe, the prince would give you what you both desired more than anything – each other.
the prince’s lips met yours in a needy, frenzied kiss, wanting to possess all of you.
you were his, he had to make you see that now.
aemond pulled away from you abruptly, watching as you chased after his lips, causing him to smirk. he shook his head, “no,” he repeated, his voice deep and his eye dark as he looked down at your pretty, blissed out face.
mine, he thought.
“you will not be my whore, my sweet. you will be my wife.”
fin
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feel free to send in requests / thots here.
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bunnyboysrus · 3 months
Text
Of Monsters and Omegas
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I read this a/b/o thing a while ago, I don't even know who the original was by I can't find it again y-y
but it had a thing I'd never seen in a/b/o before, with an idea of an alpha, claim biting another alpha and turning them into an omega (talked to a friend and it turns out this is a thing that has been written about more than once, im just out of touch and its not even friday) and it was an amazing story, super well written, I just personally didn't like the ending cause I'm the #1 advocate for brat readers and not the biggest fan of crybabies or the total pheromone brainwashing that people write for omegas that make them do the complete opposite of what they would normally do, I'd like to think they have more resistance to the chemicals than that albeit at the cost of some physical and psychological pain. so im writing my own, thingy, with a different ending.
18+ Minors DNI - 6.3k words Content Warnings: stalking, obsession, death, fighting, violence, blood, torture(?), kidnapping, noncon touching, suggestive, gangs, some degradation, reader is referred to as 'princess' gender neutrally (im new to this so if theres anything i forgot pls let me know)
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The heavy sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed against the stone walls of the alleyway concealing the battered figures of the people fighting within it. One person lay dazed and immobile on the ground already, followed shortly by a second body, this one out cold before he even hit the ground. The last two fighters standing were locked in a desperate grapple, and despite having been beset upon by three assholes at once, the would-be victim who had been pulled into the alley on their way home from a long day of college classes gains the upper hand for the third and final time. Your muscles burn as you grunt and send the last assailant flying into the hard brick wall, one final crack ringing through the tight, dark space as they slide down the wall onto the dirty ground, right into an unfortunately placed puddle of dumpster juice. They leave a splatter of blood on the stone where the back of their head split on the stained grit.
Blood drips from the knuckles of the hand you run through the sweaty hair slicked to your forehead as you stoop and pick up your backpack from where it had been tossed to the side. You spot a wallet on the ground, knocked out of someone's pocket at some point during the fight, and pocket the cash from that too, for the inconvenience. These scumbags were lucky they weren't dead, yet, anyway. For this? They'd probably be killed within the week once you gave their ID's to your older sister.
You continue on your way back home, wiping the blood off your knuckles and face with the sleeve of your coat as you go.
Why those grunts had seemingly staked you out was beyond you, other than the obvious reason of being a member of their gang's most vicious and historied rival. Your family was a notorious one, a family business dealing mostly in drugs but with a few spare hands in money laundering and data gathering. You were fully aware that what your family did was illegal in a dozen different ways, but it was what you had grown up in, it was what paid for your lavish lifestyle, so who were you to be judgmental? Besides, to compromise within a morally gray area, you know your family prefers to keep things as bloodless as possible, less clean up and attention that way. As a fresh adult who was only in your second year of college however, you were ignorant to most of those details, and chose to be so. You understood why your family didn't want to involve you just yet, and you didn't care to dig into it, the longer you could go with less responsibilities, the better. So, for now, you were content to stay in the dark and live your carefree, well-funded life.
Of course, that didn't mean you were naive or anything. You know very well that you were in constant danger of being attacked or killed, even as you lived a perfectly normal college life. So, as any self-respecting alpha would, you worked out intensely and routinely, to the point of being intimidating even to other alphas. Running into a few punks here and there was nothing to you, even when they came in groups like they had today.
The remaining smears of blood on your knuckles have dried into a crust by the time you get home. Once you've kicked off your shoes at the door, you hide the gory evidence of your altercation in your coat pockets as you step into the living room of your family's manor. Your sisters, Nina, the youngest, and Esme, older than you but younger than your brothers, Leon and Silas, are sitting on the couch closest to the TV, a drama of some sort playing as they shared a bowl of strawberries. Nina beams at you from the couch.
"Hey! How was your day?"
Nina was still in high school, which in your opinion was way worse than college, so the fact that she still had the spunk and energy to greet you so enthusiastically warmed your heart. You smile back at her as you head for the stairs.
"It was pretty good, I finally finished that project so now I don't have to stay late at the library anymore."
"That's great! That means you'll be home early enough to watch Cats of Heaven with me!"
"I should have enough time for that, sure." You chuckle. You had no clue what that was, but if you had to guess, knowing your sister it was the newest silly cartoon that she had become infatuated with. At least she wasn't trying to get you to watch the insufferable dramas that she liked to watch with Leon and Esme, like what was on now, but you would never admit to your siblings how corny you thought those kinds of shows were. You could only hope Cats of Heaven was something more entertaining than the standard soap operas you'd observed.
"There's pizza in the kitchen." Esme calls to you as you start up the stairs.
Ah, so Leon isn't home yet. The oldest of your siblings was the one who normally cooked, more often than even your mother. You call back an acknowledgement before jogging up the stairs to your room. After cleaning yourself of the day's grime, and the blood of course, you change clothes and trot back downstairs, heading for the kitchen to obtain some of the aforementioned pizza. Getting past the group project you'd been working on for the past three months meant more free time after school for the immediate future, and you were all too keen to relax with your family, even if it meant slogging through a show that was potentially horrendous.
You pad back into the living room, already halfway through one of the five slices of cheesy divinity on your plate. You were just sitting down between Esme and Nina when the sound of keys in the front foyer made you all perk up.
"I thought they weren't coming back for another few days?" Esme voices the question on all of your minds, 'they' being your parents and oldest brother, who had left on a business trip a little under a week ago.
"Maybe they finished work early and wanted it to be a surprise." Nina suggests happily, as the sound of footsteps in the hallway grows closer. You're hit with a sudden wave of apprehension at the same time as Esme, both of you standing abruptly to move in front of your youngest sister as a crowd of strangers step into the room with shameless casualness. Leading them, is an imposing alpha man with ink black hair tied at the nape of his neck and burning red eyes so piercing it almost made you shiver to be caught in their gaze. Almost.
The only thing that overpowered the rising fear was anger.
You sprint directly for the leader, arm pulled back for a haymaker, but some beta grunt gets in your way and takes the blow. It's clear from the confidence with which he steps in that he was unprepared for the force behind the fist, and ends up on his face on the floor, dead to the world. The first swing immediately spurs the others into action, and they surge around their leader to subdue you. It turns out to be a much harder endeavor than any of them anticipate, even when one lackey throws themself onto your back to weigh down your movement, you move as though the weight wasn't there at all, ramming backwards and crushing the brave idiot and one other against the wall. You're about to make another lunge for the leader, who has so far been lounging in an insufferably smug manner against the wall, watching the fight but not bothering to get involved, when you hear a shrill scream behind you that stops you cold.
You turn back to see Nina trapped in the arms of a muscly thug, and Esme thrashing on the ground at her feet, held down by two others. Your rage surges and you move to attack their captors, but the momentary distraction caused by your little sister's distress is all the time that's needed for three more men to jump on you and drag you to the ground. It takes 5 people altogether to hold you down as you curse and struggle against their hold trying to reach your sisters.
The leader of the home invasion chuckles condescendingly as he finally moves from his spot against the wall and walks closer, kneeling down by your face, a tight smile on his face that holds no amusement.
"You're just as feisty as ever, second youngest. I've heard all about your track record in fights, your unbroken win streak was so intimidating that I thought for sure it'd take more than that to subdue you. I'm a little disappointed."
"Fuck you!!!" It's all you can manage to spit out amongst your fury and exhaustion; normally you'd be able to throw off even five people, at least enough to get an arm free to strike out, but you were already worn out from your earlier fight. That, and a literal glob of spit that lands splat dab against the side of the assault leader's nose; damn, so close to hitting him in the eye.
The room goes cold and still, the thugs surrounding you and your siblings seem to take in a collective breath of anxiety, looking nervously to their leader for his reaction. To their surprise, he simply stares down intensely at the struggling alpha on the floor as he wipes the spit off his cheek... and licks it off his thumb.
"Oh, are you sure that's smart? You might not care about your own compromised position... but you care about theirs, right?" He glances over to the men holding down your sisters and in response to an unspoken signal, they draw knives and hold them menacingly against their throats. Esme growls furiously, but Nina screams again in fear as tears pour down her cheeks.
"Stop! Stop it, don't terrorize them! You're here for me, right?! Then just take me outside and beat me to death if that's what you want but leave them alone!!!" You still sound enraged, but even you are aware of the fear that leaks into your voice.
"Aww, worried for your sisters? Me too." The faux amusement in the alpha leader's voice is gone now, replaced with a cold fury chilling enough to send a zing of worry into your spine. The leader grabs a fistful of your hair in a painfully tight grip as he pulls your head up, his other hand spinning a set of keys around his finger. Your blood runs cold when you zero in on the plastic pink dolphin hanging on the ring.
Those are your mother's keys.
"You seem to think I'm here because you put a few grunts into the hospital. You're mistaken." The alpha tilts his head as his eyes pierce into yours, searching, but for what, you don't know. "You aren't aware of what your brother's been up to, are you?"
"You'll have to be more specific; I have two." You huff, trying not to stare too obviously at the dolphin, trying desperately not to think of what it might mean of your mother's fate for this asshole to be holding those keys.
"Silas." The alpha says icily, speaking the name like a curse.
Warily, you shake your head, the clawed grip on your head barely allowing the movement. "No, I'm not aware of anything my brothers and parents are involved in."
"That's unfortunate... But I'm already aware of that. It's cute, honestly, did they think leaving you out of the loop would keep you safe and uninvolved?" He gives your hair a sharp tug, eliciting a hiss from the fuming alpha. "All it did was make you the perfect tool for revenge."
"What the fuck are you even talking about you piece of shi-" The leader slams your face into the ground, and although the floor is carpeted, it only buffers the brunt force so much. When the leader lifts your head back up, your nose is dripping blood.
"I'm talking now. Unless you want me to kill your sisters in front of you, you'll shut the fuck up and listen like a good little bitch."
A growl rumbles through you which is met with another face first kiss into the floor, but the alpha doesn't signal anything to the thugs holding your sisters.
"Listen well, as I won't repeat myself. Silas kidnapped my sister, and I can only assume he claimed her. That, or he killed her, but I doubt it. Your mother was helping him to keep them both hidden, and to her credit she refused to sell him out, no matter how much we hurt her." The spinning of the keys stops abruptly as the leader catches them in his palm before dangling them in front of you. "I guess she didn't stop to think about what that choice might mean for her other children, left so innocent and unaware at home, alone. Maybe she had a favorite?"
Your blood runs cold as you take in the intruder's words. You had never been particularly close with Silas, hell, none of your siblings were. He had always been very distant with his siblings, while the rest of you went on to be incredibly close with one another, leaving Silas as the odd one out. That wasn't to say you hadn't all at some point tried to get closer with him, he had simply always made it clear he had no interest. This was probably also fueled by the coddling you had all observed from your mother; Silas had always been her golden boy, incapable of wrongdoing.
"I had no idea... None of us did." You can only hope the sincerity is clear in your voice and face; you genuinely had no idea your brother had done such a thing or was even capable of doing such. If the kidnapping was fueled by anything other than the feud between your families... The thought made you sick.
The leader considers your words, his chilling gaze never wavering in the slightest from yours.
"I believe you. From what I gather, based on what we were able to discern from the phone we took from your mother, she and he were the only ones in on it."
Your relief is short lived when a cruel, mirthless smirk creeps over the leader's face. There's a sudden sting in the side of your neck, you barely have time to register the pinch of pain before darkness rushes into your vision from all sides.
"However... That doesn't alleviate you of the consequences."
A sudden splash of cold drags you unwillingly out of the darkness. You open your eyes, gasping, taking in the dirty, gray stone, the puddle surrounding you; you're no longer in your living room. You now find yourself somewhere dark and cemented on all sides, the cold dampness pervading the space the kind that only comes from being underground. The only illumination comes from a single bare bulb swinging on a frayed wire over your head, the light it casts only making the space feel more unnerving.
Looming over you, face cast eerily in the darkness clumping up around the edges of the bulb's dingy light, is the leader of the home invasion. His red eyes are black in the shadow, but still alight with something cruel and mocking. He has a bucket in his hand, empty save for the last few drops of water clinging to the lip, the rest of it covering you.
"Good morning, princess. Sleep well?"
It's just the two of you, alone. No guards, no thugs, no sign of your sisters. You process this information a split second before you register the weight clamped down around your arms and waist, metal rattling loudly through the small space when you try to lunge for him, only to be stopped short by a chain attached to the wall behind you. You twist your arms violently, feeling the bite of handcuffs digging into your wrists, chains pulling taught where they're wrapped around your waist. Your captor laughs at your efforts.
It's when you growl in response to the taunting laughter that you feel more metal on your face. A muzzle. You can't suppress the fury thrashing around in your chest like a wild animal, growing more and more violent the more humiliation is piled on. The abduction, the laughter, the restraints, the muzzle. You kick and pull and yank and spit and snarl, don't stop even when the metal bites and blood makes your skin slippery against the cuffs.
"Aww, throwing a tantrum now? Cute." The words are barely enough warning before you're shoved onto your back, arms grinding painfully between the restrains and the dirty floor.
Your captor straddles you, his weight keeping your body pressed flat to the ground while one hand settles into the curve of your throat and squeezes. His palm presses lightly into your airway at the same time that his thumb rubs slow, pensive circles in the dip between your neck and collar. You shiver apprehensively when it brushes over the scent gland in your neck.
"I already told you I don't know where your sister is. Fucking kill me already so you can get even, just don't hurt my sisters. They're not involved!"
"Second time you've asked me to kill you... you seem quite keen on it." He smirks. "Unfortunately, you're all involved by virtue of simply being a part of that family. I know none of you are stupid enough to be completely ignorant to your family's doings."
Another growl bubbles up in your throat, only to be choked into silence when your captor tightens his grip around your neck.
"You know, I've thought for a while now that the older you've gotten, the less happy you've looked. The worst time, was right after your high school graduation, it was like the last of your light had left your eyes." His smile softens into something pitying, bordering on sympathetic even, but all you feel is chills running up and down your spine. "You always used to be so carefree, and spirited, it was crushing to see you looking so worn down and sad. It took me a while to realize what was killing the happy you I love so much."
The hands around your neck loosen as the leader leans down, hips shifting against your crotch as he moves, completely unbothered by the water soaking into his pants. He brings his face to your ear, lips grazing against the shell of it.
"Don't you think trying so hard to posture around like a big tough alpha is exhausting? I know it is, I know intimately the sort of shit we go through to come out on top as the strongest, the worthiest... But that struggle never suited you, did it? You've always seemed too sweet for it to me, more like an omega than an alpha."
You can't help but take the opportunity to thrust your head forward and slam it into your captor's face, forcing him back into his upright position. Ignoring the stalker shit this guy was just babbling was difficult, but you decided to skip it for now since honestly you didn't really wanna hear the details...
"You've gotta be shitting me, I've sent hundreds of you losers to the hospital and the grave since I was a middle schooler. If you're seriously trying to compare me to an omega, then I know you're full of it and just trying to piss me off."
He raises an eyebrow, surprisingly not retaliating against the bonk to his head, not yet at least.
"So, what would you call the manicures you get monthly with your sister?"
"I call that self-care and spending time with my sister. Fighting off all your fuckin' grunts wears my hands out and I'm not fond of scars. I deserve a relaxing hand massage for the trouble of beating your thugs up every week."
"And the mall trips where you spend hundreds on clothes which you follow up with a trip to that quaint little bakery where you always get a strawberry cream cake? That doesn't strike you as omega-ish?"
"Go to hell. For one thing, it's insanely creepy that you know all that, and for another, you're stereotyping like a motherfucker. Alphas aren't all meatheads that do nothing but eat raw steak, jerk off and work out, and all omegas aren't valley preps that do nothing but shop and primp. People who think like you are what's wrong with society."
The leader's deep red eyes stare intensely into your face for an eerily long moment before the corners of his lips twitch. At first its imperceptible, and while he clearly fights to keep a straight face, he can't keep down the chuckles bubbling out of his throat for long. He throws his head back in a burst of full body laughter, the least cruel sound he's made since you met him. When he finally manages to calm himself, the leader beams down at you as he wipes a tear out of his eye.
"My god... You're so fucking cute. Do you even hear yourself? You're only proving my point. You're meant to be pampered and taken care of, sheltered and safe from petty street fights and laborious expectations of strength and intimidation. You look so much cuter and happier getting your nails done than you do working out and swaggering around trying to be impressive and domineering."
This conversation had already been creepy since it started, but this was starting to genuinely unnerve you. You try to lean your head further away from the alpha on top of you, but he grabs the front of your muzzle, dragging you closer.
"Don't run away now tough guy. I thought a big bad alpha like you wasn't scared. How's it feel to be the one on bottom? Feeling threatened by the idea of someone putting you in your place? Scared?" He drags his tongue across the thin bars of the muzzle, his breath ghosting over your lips.
"What do you want from me?" You finally manage to ask, despite the tightness in your throat. As much as you expect to dread the answer, you can't stand any more of the back and forth while you wait in suspense for torture, for death, for something. Something other than whatever it is about this whole exchange that is making this guy so rock hard. You're trying to ignore it but, you've been feeling the unmistakable prod of this weirdo's boner against your crotch for almost the whole time you've been speaking.
"Still waiting on me to kill you? Knowing how proud you are, I bet you'd prefer death over what I have planned for you." The freak on top of you chuckles, his voice lowering to a husk as he leans down and nuzzles his nose into the crook between your neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. "You smell so sweet even now, for an alpha...~ You'll smell even better soon."
Before you can ask what the hell he's talking about, you feel a kitten lick against your neck that makes you freeze. It's light at first, but quickly turns into broad strokes of his tongue and open mouth kisses from shoulder to jaw, wet and insistent.
No way. Nowaynowaynowaynoway. Obviously, no one is incapable of being sexually assaulted but it rarely ever happened to alphas, they weren't exactly the cute, easy targets creeps normally went for. It had never even been a passing concern for you up until now.
"Hey! Are you fucking-gh...!" You choke on your words when a sharp sting pulses through your neck. A heartbeat later, a deep and agonizing burning sensation starts to spread through your veins, up into your head where the white-hot burn is so blaring that it clouds your vision with spots, and down into your chest where your heart starts pounding against your ribs like it's trying to claw its way out. You can only gasp soundlessly as pain like you've never experienced rips through you, tearing screams from your lungs that die before they can even leave your throat, coming out only as gasping whimpers. It's after you feel a second bite and the pain is redoubled that you finally manage to shriek out loud, a sound so visceral and so unlike any sound or scream you've ever made that it doesn't even sound like you.
When he bites into your scent gland for a third time, the pressure building behind your eyes from the pain and the lightheadedness of screaming without pause for breath snaps. You can feel yourself losing consciousness again, and this time you couldn't be more grateful for it.
Your return to the waking world is much slower this time. Whereas before you were yanked out of the darkness with a splash of cold water, this time you find yourself wading through it, a lake of sludge thicker than cold syrup, and it was just as sticky and unpleasant as you imagine such a thing would be. Despite what feels like physical pounds of exhaustion weighing them down, you manage to drag your eyes open.
You feel cold and damp all over, a fresh drop of sweat rolling down your neck. A full body ache that sinks deep into your bones covers you; you feel like you're made of glass, fragile, weak and sore.
A strip of dim, greyed light is shining on the ceiling over your head; its all you can focus on as your awareness swims to the surface and clambers out of the heavy lake still trying to drag it down. You shift and lift one of your arms out from under the thick blanket covering you and notice gauze wrapped around your wrist. A small, delicate gasp to your side makes you turn your head. Nina is sitting in a chair by your bedside, clutching your other hand tightly between hers.
"You're awake! Y-You were sleeping so long I thought you'd never..." She sniffles, holding your hand to her cheek as hot tears drip onto your wrist. You slowly turn your hand to press your palm against her cheek, smiling softly.
"It's okay Nina, I'm alive, it's alright." Your voice is barely more than a croak, scratching painfully out of your throat. Nina grabs a cup of water from a bedside table and gently helps you take a few sips. When you've managed to drain the whole cup, you lay back in the bed with a wearied sigh.
"What happened? I thought for sure I was dying, I..." You trail off, thinking back to the odd conversation you'd had with the alpha who had led your home's invasion. Your head is pounding, and you feel so weak, like you're just waking up from the worst part of a flu, still feeling traces of a fever in the heat trapped in your blankets and the sweat clinging to your skin. A growl from the window pulls your attention away from your condition.
"That motherfucker... He did something to you." Esme is leaning against the frame of the large window casting the gray light over the ceiling a few feet away from where you and Nina are sitting, a cigarette crushed in half in her hand. You can't help but be faintly alarmed at the sight of it; Nina had expressly forbidden Esme from smoking, and she hadn't been caught with a cigarette in over a year. To see her with one in front of Nina, and for Nina to not be making any fuss over it, means something is seriously wrong. A distant rumble punctuates the tense silence that falls over you all, and you notice that the slim strip of sky visible through the partially parted curtains over the window is blotted out with storm gray.
"Did what to me?" You press. Your sisters exchange a look that is far too loaded to discern anything from other than Nina's palpable concern and Esme's frustration. You quickly get tired of waiting for one of them to tell you what is going on.
"Will one of you please tell me what is making you both look at me like I've caught some kind of fatal disease?" You huff, anxiety bleeding into your words. Nina glances one more time to Esme, who adamantly refuses to look away from the window as she throws down her ruined cigarette and retrieves a new one.
"You... Er, well you were... claimed. By Emil." Nina says quietly, staring down at her hands in her lap rather than you.
You stare at her blankly. What she's saying makes sense objectively, but you can't make sense of what it could have to do with you. Claiming was something exclusively done between alphas and omegas. You almost want to laugh and call it absurd, when you remember the sharp, burning pain of something piercing your neck. You shiver as you recall that the pain had been sourced in the same area as your scent gland. Your hand slowly, shakily, reaches up to press two probing fingers to your neck. Pain pulses faintly through you again when the tips of your fingers find gauze wrapped around it.
The weakness pervading your entire body, the nervousness underlying all of the other emotions swirling in your gut, the foreign sensation settled in your lower abdomen... Somehow, you know instinctively what it all means before your sister even says it.
"He bitched you. You're an omega now." Esme's voice has dropped to a low, hard to hear octave. You almost want to believe you imagined what you just heard, but you know deep down that what she says is true. The despair must show on your face, as Nina grabs your hand again, squeezing it tightly between both of hers.
"I-It'll be okay...! Emil is actually very nice, and he's genuinely-" She's cut off by the sharp slam of Esme's fist against the wall.
"Bullshit! Don't even start Nina. He bitched you and he expects you to roll over and be happy about it, but I say fuck that!" She snarls, her new cigarette meeting the same fate as its predecessor as she crushes it in her fist and throws it to the ground. "He's gone on and on at us trying to prove that this is all somehow what's best for you, but he just sounds deranged! He's a sick, obsessive freak, and he wants you to-!"
The sound of a door opening stops her short, and all three siblings jerk around to look at the newcomer entering through the door on the far side of the room from the bed. A woman in scrub pants and a sweater glowers down at all three siblings, looking supremely exhausted.
"You two, you were told you would only be allowed in if you didn't cause trouble. Are you distressing the patient right after they wake up?" She asks in a cold, droning voice.
Nina and Esme exchange defeated, worried glances before Nina speaks up.
"N-No ma'am, we weren't trying to be disruptive we were just-"
"Overwhelming someone coming out of a physically taxing ordeal that left them comatose for almost two weeks." She interjects dryly. "Come on, visitation's over, both of you out."
You expect your sisters to argue, to tell her off for expecting them to leave you alone and insist on staying with you, but to your shock your sisters resignedly stand up and head for the door. Once they've both shuffled out, the nurse (?) shuts the door behind them and trudges over to you. You flinch away from her touch, but she grabs you in firm but gentle hands, holding you still as she looks you over.
"I expected you to stay out for a few more days, but you're one tough little cookie. How are you feeling?"
Bewildered but too shell shocked to question, you answer the questions she asks you as she goes about taking your temperature and blood pressure. One impromptu physical later, she steps away from your bed with a satisfied nod.
"Alright, it looks like your recovery is progressing better than expected. You'll probably be up and about like nothing happened within a few days." You listen to her ramble about your condition before you can bring yourself to ask.
"What happened to me? Is... Is what my sister said true? Am I an omega?"
The nurse goes silent. The pitying look she gives you is all the confirmation you need.
"You should go back to sleep for now. Your body probably still feels very weak. Food will be brought to you shortly but try not to stress yourself out in the meantime." It's all she says before she hurries to the door, shutting your questions down with a firm slam. You scramble to your feet, swaying violently as soon as you try to stand. You power through it, holding down a lurching sensation akin to being on the verge of throwing up as you stagger to the door and wrench at the knob. Locked.
Fear and worry overtake you as you start slamming your hands and body into the door, though what you're trying to accomplish, not even you know. You're too weak to even stand, let alone break down a door, and before long, cold rushes into your limbs and you find yourself sliding down onto the floor, trembling and barely keeping down the bile crawling up your throat. You curl up into a ball and close your eyes.
When you awake for the third time, you don't feel nearly as ill. The ache in your limbs is still there, a mild constant, but it doesn't feel as debilitating as it did before. As you are in the middle of waking, you feel a cool hand brushing through your hair, and smell a sweet scent around you that puts you at ease. You can't help but lean your face into the hand petting you as your eyes slowly open. Snuggled against you, both arms wrapped securely around you... is that fucking freak.
You jerk away from the home invasion leader's hand, pulling him out of what looks like a deep reverie as you scramble to the side of the bed farthest from him. He smiles at you in amusement as he sits up, leaning his cheek against a fist propped on his knee.
"Good morning, princess. How are you feeling?"
You rub your hand over your neck, now free of gauze, feeling the bite marks in your skin in hyper-detail.
"You fucking... y-you, what did you do...?!" You demand, your voice a slightly higher pitch than you recall it being and shaking.
He chuckles like this was exactly what he was expecting, looking at you with a coy condescension that makes your skin crawl.
"I helped you; the first step to setting up our beautiful romance was making you an omega so I could care for you without any power struggles getting in the way. I'm not saying I look down on alphas having relationships with other alphas, but it just wasn't for me." His grin broadens as he crawls closer to you, closing the distance you'd put between you. You try to back up further, but he corners you against the headboard, arms caging you in on either side. He leans his head down, you shrink into yourself as he does but its not far enough, and his cheek brushes yours as he licks up the side of your neck. When his tongue glides over the bites on your neck, a shudder runs through you unbidden. A sudden rush of wetness between your legs shocks you to a frozen standstill. The freak looming over you takes a deep inhale, shuddering in ecstasy.
"I was right... You smell so much sweeter like this!" He presses against you, one knee parting your legs as one of his hands rubs the burning heat between your thighs. You reach to grab his wrist and pull it away, but his free hand catches yours and holds it down. The uncomfortable wetness gets worse as a heat purrs through your core, goaded by his touching.
You feel a foreign sensation crawling through your brain, sickeningly warm and disorienting. It urges you to pull your hands away, spread yourself open willingly before the alpha in front of you. It promises bliss in submission, ecstasy in relinquishing control to someone bigger and stronger than you, someone who could protect and ravish you-
A jolt runs through you as your captor's hand drifts up to dip underneath the waistband of your pants, his face lifting up from your neck to direct his affections to your lips. His attempt to take a kiss is stopped short violently by a fist slamming into his nose. He falls backwards off the side of the bed with an undignified yelp, curling up on the floor for an agonizing moment to hold his face as blood rushes between his fingers.
"W-What the hell... Aren't you...?"
"GO TO HELL YOU UGLY FREAK!!!" The panic you feel is pushed down, rage swallowing it entirely. The alpha on the floor quickly backs up as you get to your feet, fists clenched and shaking in fury.
"But I claimed you...! You can't-"
"I don't give a shit what you did! Did you seriously think I'd tolerate you touching me?! Get the hell OUT!!!!!" You scream loud enough to make your voice hoarse in your already aching throat, grabbing anything you can to hurl at him. Pillows and plastic cups chase him out as he scrambles back to the door, muttering a promise to visit again once you're in a better mood. A pillow smacks into the door with alarming force in the spot where his head had been just a split second earlier. As for the idea of you ever being in any mood that would make you tolerate being in his presence...
Fat chance of that.
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queenimmadolla · 25 days
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Do you think some of Eddie peers are jealous that he’s got wife and 3 kids at home, sure Eddie feel into the rock and roll lifestyle but he didn’t let partying, groupies or drugs consume him, he’s got a loving wife and adorable kids waiting for him and they see that all of eddies love and devotion is for his family and music. Eddies just like “I do my job, rock out and go home”
Say he got invited to a big after party where he’ll party with Ozzy or Metallica but he declines because he just found out his kids are having their own Wrestler Mania back at the hotel room and he can’t miss that again
Or Eddie takes you to the party and y’all are getting approach and people like your relationship vibe and yall are getting hit on that you get both get a invitation to go to a “different party” in a hotel room and it goes over your head like “oh actually we aren’t staying long we gotta get back before the new Simpsons episode start”
Or when the band gets interviewed we see the kids in the background and the world gets to see Eddie being the best dad and loving husband. Every 80/90’s musician in the rock/metal scene are single, loves to party, and is reckless so Eddie was a change they weren’t expecting.
Sooo….You’re not gonna be very happy with me. Let’s go through this together and hopefully you wont hate me too much because it does get better.
Yes, Eddie’s peers do experience a little jealousy at the family he has, the constant love surrounding him—but he does succumb to the partying, drugs….and almost a groupie (THIS WILL BE TOUCHED ON MORE IN THE FIC IM PERFECTING, DONT THROW THE TOMATOES). He does his job, rocks out, and sometimes he craves reaping the rewards (drugs and parting and soaking it all in—not the groupies, that’s a related situation but not a part of what he craves) of his success. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, he gets caught up in it. And it eats at him because he also knows his wife and his beautiful kids are also a once in a lifetime opportunity. That’s what kicks his ass back into gear.
It’s a life that you enjoy sometimes, love being on his arm, at his side, watching him glow underneath all those flashing lights. That confident smirk on his face, he belongs. It’s completely his element, what you knew he was always meant to do. And for the most part, you love being his wife, the wife of a Rockstar. How he’s always ravenous for you, the way he handles you when he’s fresh off the stage—be stadium stage or a some big fancy hall stage for an award ceremony—the parties he takes you to, the material things, not having to work your ass off to survive anymore, not having to work at all. You hate how women literally throw themselves at him, constantly expose themselves to him (the amount of flashing is INSANE, you see more titties than you ever did in the girls’ locker room back in high l when you’re tucked under his arm) but he only ever has eyes for you (shhh, we’re not talking about the groupie rn, that will be explained and you will understand).
And sometimes, being the wife of a Rockstar is hard. The tabloids are relentless, he tours the world and you stay with the kids, he’s doing coke with his pals and their gals while you’re washing the dishes halfway across the world. He’s partying after tour nights, you’re reading bedtime stories. You’re the wife of a Rockstar alright, and while he doesn’t have a mistress, sometimes the world acts as one. Sometimes the world gets him more than you do and he forgets that. Sometimes you don’t want to be the wife of a rockstar. You just want to be Eddie’s wife.
He gets there though, he gets to the points you’re talking about. Maybe not all of them, but he doesn’t become that messy playboy the world wants him to be. Still looks like a bad boy, but interviewers always note in articles they write, about the toys lingering around the house. Empty spaces on the walls, tables and shelves that had no doubt held picture frames prior to the journalists’ arrival, he was intent on keeping every precious moment and memory with his family private and away from the vicious prying eyes of the public. It’s interesting for you to read, because the first thought of an outsider’s mind is maybe something along the lines of Eddie not being sentimental or ashamed of the family, when it’s the entire opposite.
He starts ditching parties early to go back home and party with his favorite people before their bedtime (and then party with you all night long), starts having you and the kids closer during his shows again (you used to come to a few when Corroded Coffin made it bring, would bring the kids, until the shows got even bigger somehow, rowdier and fans get invasive). its difficult, especially with having to wrangle Maple—but Eddie doesn’t mind it when she runs onto the stage. if he’s feeling particularly nice, he’ll share her with the crowd for a song—but not much longer than that. He’s stingy with his family, protective, doesn’t need people thinking they can throw their unwanted opinions about his own damn kids out there—he’s assaulted people over it. And that’s not to say he hasn’t flaunted all of you, either. Fame is such a bittersweet accomplishment, he wants to show you all off to the world and sometimes he does, but the world is not kind, so he’s gotta keep you close and away from the cameras. He struggles with the back and forth a lot.
Again, the media is not kind to him, even while watching him be a father. But a couple of years from then, when his kids are older, the media/internet/etc. will pull up the photos/videos of him from the past with his kids, being so tender and playful with them. Loving. And he’ll be properly appreciated by them then. The two of you will have risen to be one of Hollywood’s golden couples, by then too. Heavily romanticized—and they’re not wrong.
It gets messy, gets cleaned up, gets messy, gets cleaned up, stays relatively clean. That’s the late 90s and Y2K, baby 😎
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har-rison-s · 3 months
Text
tell me i'm good | coryo snow x fem!reader
a/n: ohmygod you guys why did this take me like almost 3 weeks....... mnadfahsdf anyways um this might be like the last chapter idk ???!!!! what would you guys like me to do.... cos im kinda losing my grip on coryo rn, im at the end of my tbosas copy and im just so disgusted w him idek ???? but uhh yeah. sorry i'm a bit of a mess lately. i did have some little things i could be including in further writings, like y/n meeting tigris, or y/n reuniting w coryo after he returns from 12, but there's not much material for like whole chapters, idk. hope you at least enjoy this and let me know if u guys have any ideas!! happy reading <3
previous chapter
coryo masterlist main masterlist
word count: 4.2k
themes: little angst, smut
warnings / disclaimers: smut, fingering, praise, sorta sub!coryo cos that's what i live for. coryo has a praise kink, sue me
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gif credit goes to author / owner &lt;3
usually Coriolanus would feel unease in a rich family’s home, like y/n’s was. unease because he felt like he belonged there, in homes like that, but he didn’t exactly deserve to. the snow name had fallen to ruin and bankruptcy because of district twelve, and they’d been living in hunger with barely any money since then. it had made Coriolanus lose the confidence he wanted to regain, about himself and the way he carried his family name. 
he always put on a certain stance and grace when walking into homes like this, a way that would never make the hosts doubt he came from a place any different than this. being in homes like this made him feel ashamed of his living conditions. he was grateful towards Tigris for putting in her efforts to upkeep their home, but he could never escape the fact that this wasn’t how they were supposed to live, it gnawed at him day and night. and when he was in homes like this, Coriolanus felt uneasy because his home was nothing like these ones.
but when it was just him and y/n in her shower, her bathroom and her bedroom, he felt none of that unease or shame. he did feel a little envious, but that’s where it ended. the other spiteful and loathing feelings he usually felt were gone. perhaps it was just her effect on him that did it, but he felt like admitting that would make him vulnerable. he knew it, just didn’t want to admit to himself. to her – always. he couldn’t hide her effect on him if he tried.
the one difference he realized between her home and his was that the outside world was completely quiet here. from the snow penthouse Coriolanus could hear street noises – rats, people, cars, trams. grandma’am’s singing was really the worst of the noises, but that was a different case. it almost spooked him how quiet it was here. he liked it. lying beside y/n in her bed, both of them wearing pyjama shirts and underwear, he glanced at her reading a book that looked older than anything he’d seen before.
“i thought most books were burned in the war, or even in the old world,” Coryo admitted to her and watched as corners of y/n’s lips tugged into a gentle smile at that. she had her back against the headboard, and could look down at Coryo. she didn’t, her eyes were still on the tiny words printed on the pages.
“they were,” she said, “my mother got only three as a gift when she was a kid. they were her most prized possessions, she always had them with her.” y/n sighed. “they survived the war, it seems, and everything else, and joined my father’s library.” she finally looked at him and smiled. she closed the book, but not without leaving a bookmark where she had stopped, and shoved it onto her nightstand. she shut off the light and slid to lay beside Coryo. her hand under her pillow, she looked at him moving to lay on his side to face her, tucking his hands under his pillow, too. she smiled and Coryo mirrored that, too. 
“grandma’am has some books at home,” he said to her, “but i’m sure she hasn’t touched them in ages,” he added and made y/n laugh. 
“do you think Lucy Gray has books at home?” y/n asked suddenly, and Coryo’s expression changed. he’d completely forgot about her until y/n mentioned her just now. she was still in the arena, hiding from Coral and the others. y/n looked into his eyes as the motions changed in the blue of them. “her songs do sound like ones from a book,” she added in an innocent voice, still waiting for any sort of answer from Coryo.
he huffed. “they sure do,” he replied quietly, shortly, “but they’re her own. at least the ones she’s sang so far,” he said then and looked down between him and y/n. 
“i really loved the one she sang when you were supposed to have your interview,” y/n admitted, “the very first words, something about when she was younger, she fell into hollers and now when she’s a girl, she fell into that mystery boy’s arms. those really touched my heart,” she said with a smile and still looked to Coryo. he shyly looked into her eyes, “made me think of you.” she all but mumbled quietly. 
he made a half-smile. “really?” he asked and she confirmed with a nod. 
“sounds like me and Lucy Gray were both angry little ladies when we were younger,” y/n said and rolled over onto her back, “i certainly was. gave my parents and the babysitters pains,” she sighed, “i do regret being hard on them, but i never regret anger that i had, whatever it might have been about.” she turned her head to Coryo, who had suspected that she’d turned away from him all together by laying on her back now. but she didn’t turn away. just felt shy. “mother used to say there would never be a boy who liked me if i was always this angry,” y/n said and hummed quietly. 
“well, she was wrong,” Coryo immediately said and reached a hand out to stroke her delicate cheek, “i like you, and not just because you’re angry, but it’s a good characteristic to have,” he said and it made y/n turn to lay on her side to face him again, a smile on her face. he did like her anger, it showed courage. but it unnerved him sometimes, just like Sejanus did when he spoke up against teachers, dr Gaul or anyone else higher standing. y/n and Sejanus could both get into serious trouble just by being themselves. oh, but isn’t it fun, Coriolanus, to have such strong, different people around you?
“that will prove her wrong when we tell her about us,” y/n said in a hopeful voice, and Coryo nodded before he could respond otherwise. he wanted to give her a smile, but instead he gave her the ghost of one, his thoughts slithering away elsewhere. 
“do you think... it’s good arms that you’re falling into? my arms?” he asked, wondering the worth of those lyrics to her. and his worth to her, and overall. she’d practically just admitted that she had fallen into his arms, into him, so he had to know. he had his anxieties about what he did in the arena not too many hours ago, about what it could mean, what it could change, who would find out. now that his mind wasn’t entirely preoccupied with other things and she had reminded him about Lucy Gray, Coriolanus’ thoughts ran wild again. 
y/n put her hand on his cheek and stroked her thumb over his pearly skin. she wasn’t sure about her answer. believing Coryo was good was different than him actually being good, and she’d always believed her own good thoughts of people who weren’t entirely good rather than seeing them for who they truly were and accepting that. she knew Coryo wasn’t perfect, not really, under the surface, and sometimes he made very strange compromises. but not to her. he’d always been good to her. “i think so,” she said finally, quietly, “you’re good to me.”
he shook his head, and her hand moved to his lips and then back to his cheek again. Coryo felt a surge of euphoria at her fingers against his lips. “i try to be, but...” he looked into her eyes, “i don’t know if i am good.” he admitted and y/n’s eyes gave him a puzzled glance. “i couldn’t tell you before, but,” he took a deep breath, “i killed one of the tributes. in the arena.” he finally said, no distractions, no avoiding the subject, just straight-forward truth. laying himself and his actions out in the open. 
y/n’s eyebrows puzzled, then drew together as her eyes searched all over, then looked to a spot between her and Coryo. he’d killed someone. he’d killed a kid and then just gone to her home and... without telling her about it. truly, he was in shambles when she saw him, and could hardly get a word out, but... she took her hand away and curled it under her pillow. she felt used. she didn’t look at him, though Coryo wanted to beg her to do so, to say anything, do anything. anything other than this silence. 
“did you come here with... those intentions? did you want to just... sleep with me and then go back to your home?” she asked him finally, all kinds of thoughts were racing through her mind. “like i’m just some...” profanities circled her mind.
Coryo shook his head at her voiced assumptions and scooted closer to her under her covers. he’d made her upset, but not in the way he’d anticipated. girls do have a different view of everything, they really do. “no, no, it wasn’t like that at all,” he told her. wasn’t it? “i didn’t want to go home,” he said, “i just ran and ran until i recognized your house and... i just knew it was the right place to be. i couldn’t be with anyone else, y/n,” he almost pleaded. she gave him a glance.
“and what then? i wasn’t inviting you to do all these things to me, with me,” she said, suddenly feeling nauseaus from the thoughts she was having, the assumptions that clouded her mind and swam into her words, “you wanted to.”
“i did want to, and no, it wasn’t—ugh,” Coryo turned to lay on his back, “i just couldn’t bring myself to tell you then. you-you’re where i feel the safest. and... you are irresistible to me, as i’ve said before.” he turned to lay on his side again, where y/n had pulled into herself more, her arms around her own frame, eyes staring blankly into her bedding. “you’re not just someone to me, i would never use you like that,” Coryo assured her, and y/n looked into his eyes finally. he felt relief, if only momentary. she’d looked at him, at least, “i couldn’t even tell you what you mean to me. too much, is what you mean to me.”
he offered her a smile, but she just looked back at him. “so what we did wasn’t just a distraction for you?” she asked in a quiet voice, and Coryo shook his head, happy they were on the same page finally. 
“no, y/n, it meant the world to me,” he told her, “and so do you.” he promised and managed that smile again. she believed him. she didn’t care that it could make her a fool later – that was later, and not now. now she was his world, she was his solace, his comfort, his safe place. “i love you,” Coryo said. didn’t i tell you that already? he searched her eyes and she nodded, finally. 
“i love you, too,” she said back and Coryo held her face in his hands with her silent permission, “i just wish i could know what goes on in that head of yours,” she admitted, though fearing it may make Coryo lock himself up and never say a word to her again. some would call knowing what the other is thinking an invasion of privacy, but she didn’t see it that way, and neither did Coryo.
“i wonder the same thing about you,” he admitted back and y/n raised her eyebrows momentarily at that statement, a little surprised, though she was glad to hear that he felt the same way, “i never want to make you feel worthless to me, y/n, i—”
she shook her head, “you can’t really control that,” she pointed out.
“but i want to try,” he said, and thought that it would be best if he could control every aspect of how she felt about him or what he made her feel. her anxieties were out of his hands, but he wanted them to go away, and wanted to do his best for her to not have them at all. not plant the seeds for those anxieties. 
“tell me about it,” she urged him after again shaking her head gently at him. she tucked her face closer to his, “did you do it for Lucy Gray?” she asked and looked up into his eyes again.
“well, yes,” he answered, “but he would have killed me and Sejanus, too. it was...”
“self-defense?” she asked and Coryo nodded. “they sent you in there after him and didn’t even provide protection.” protection from who? kids who have been pushed out into an arena, onto a stage, and told to perform and survive? 
“that was the catch, yes,” Coryo said, “he ran after us, though he was limping, and attacked us. i didn’t...” he gulped and looked down, “i didn’t want to hurt him, but... i felt something, and i... couldn’t stop.” y/n looked into his eyes. “i don’t feel... i don’t think i’m the same anymore.”
y/n pulled him into an embrace, his head against her chest, damp curls tickling her neck, and held him tightly. it was almost like cradling him, so gently, comfortingly, offering her solace. she didn’t know what to say to him, what words to offer. it seemed they’d all ran out. the smart-mouth y/n had nothing to say for the first time in her life. 
“do you still think i’m good?” Coryo asked quietly, his voice muffled. y/n sighed, her eyelids fluttering, eyes turning glassy as no doubt Coryo’s were too, she could hear his voice on the whiny, sob tone. he needed comfort, reassurance.
“i think you can be,” she told him her honest thoughts quietly, despite knowing it wasn’t a direct answer to his question. Coryo gulped and pulled back, just to look at her, just to hold her, too. 
“tell me i’m good,” he pleaded and took her face in his hands again. y/n felt confused, and looked at him with eyes very much expressing that, but couldn’t stop herself from what she said next. 
“you’re good,” she assured in an unsure voice, and was taken aback by Coryo kissing her. hard, sudden, urgent, desperate. she could hardly draw breath, his teeth were clashing against hers, lips hungry on hers, tongue licking at her teeth, the inside of her mouth, hungry, starving, desperate, “you’re good.” she said again, still sounding unsure but less than the first time. Coryo whimpered into her mouth at her words, he felt himself twitch beneath the fabric of his loaned pyjama pants. seriously? he asked himself at first. but then, this is good. this is doing something good for you. listen to her, “you’re good, Coryo,” y/n gasped into his mouth. she could feel him against her inner thigh now that their bodies were intertwining again. Coryo moved his lips to her neck, nipping, licking, softly biting, suckling at her skin, drawing out the most delicious of noises out of her, only making himself more desperately aroused from it, more desperate for her, “Coryo, you’re...” she couldn’t even finish her sentence as she writhed in his hold, her hands grasping at the skin under his shirt, fingers teasingly slipping between his hot skin and the elastic of his pyjama pants. 
“say it,” he reminded her in a whisper, a request in the disguise of a whine. Coryo grinded his hips against y/n’s, drove his growing length against her cunt, and found warmth there immediately. y/n almost cried out her next words, the heat between her and Coryo making her nearly as desperate as him. desperate for each other, like bitches in heat.
“you’re so good, Coryo,” she squeezed out and pushed her hips up against his. she put her hands on his chest and pushed him back on the bed, his back on her soft-as-ever pillows, and his eyes looking up at her. she just adored the sight of him like this, but couldn’t hold herself away from kissing him, stopping her short adoration of him. he needed her. he needed her support. so she’d give him that. she had always been ready to do that. take care of him. she’d done that in another way time and time over already.
she took his hand and pushed it in her pyjama bottoms, and Coryo groaned, relishing at touching her at her most vulnerable part again, this ever-inviting slick warmth that was all his to touch, to please, to discover. 
“touch me, Coryo,” she breathed onto his lips, and he nodded in half a second. so compliant, so obedient, doing what he’s told. afraid for what may come if he doesn’t. afraid of the chaos that comes for not following orders. always melting like chocolate under her hot touch, compliant to her. his fingers ran through her folds, covered in slick, making her gasp and arch her back, hair in the air. Coryo watched her in awe, in adoration. she was a goddess above him. assuring him he was good, telling him what to do, listening to him, falling apart under his touch, such an effortlessly beautiful girl. he had lucked out. Coryo kept his eyes on her face as he pushed two of his fingers inside her walls. it made y/n sigh and shudder in relief, he was delicate on her soreness, like balm on a bruise, “Coryo,” she moaned and felt his fingers curl inside of her, making her eyes roll back into her head, “fuck, you’re so good for me, Coryo.” 
he nodded again, eyelids fluttering and lips stretching into a smile. her words and noises fed his ego and flattered his heart that so longed for words of praise and recognition. they also made his hard-on grow in his pyjama pants, and he felt kind of shameful for it. he grazed her walls with his fingertips and felt how it made her shudder sitting above him, her cunt squeezing him in, her thighs tightening around his hips—locked in. Coryo moaned, he felt his hand between his clothed, growing erection and her cunt, and it was the perfect squeeze. her warmth pressing against his own, pulling him in. he pumped his fingers faster inside her, delicious sounds from her cunt going straight to his erection.
“Coryo,” y/n mewled and rocked her hips on his hand. he could tell she was desperate, and that meant she was close, too. she was nearly crying, her soreness from before joining the immense pleasure Coryo was providing, “be good for me and make me come, Coryo, please,” she half-pleaded, half-commanded, and Coryo nodded again, beyond turned on but still so focused. his other hand reached around her hips and pushed a splayed palm on the small of her back, pushing her core more into his hand, down onto his length. y/n groaned and gasped for him, but she took his hand and guided it up her pyjama shirt, over her breast, and made him squeeze the flesh of it. that made her whimper and only yearn for her release more. she was oh-so-close, about to fall over that sweet edge for the second time that night. 
Coryo pulled his trump move of pressing a digit against her clit and ground his hips up against hers again, trying to maintain a rhythm, and knew that was it, he could feel the difference in her body immediately. she jerked, and her thighs trembled—she was so sensitive still—and she drew ragged breaths. y/n collapsed on top of Coryo as she came, uttering his name under her breath, and he drew his hand from under her shirt to wrap it around her frame to just make her feel his ever-long support. her hair in his face, they were both gasping for air, skin on skin, and Coryo didn’t even realise until he felt not just her wetness on his fingers, but his own under his hand, soaking through his pyjama pants, that he’d come, too. he hardly even felt it, unlike that first time just a mere hour or two ago. his cheeks blushed a bright pink on his pale skin and he tremendously, though stupidly, hoped she wouldn’t notice. 
but when she kissed his cheek and his neck after regaining herself, he sort-of forgot about the little detail, melting into her affections on him. “Coryo, you did so good for me,” y/n quietly praised him and then raised her head to look at him. he shyly looked into her eyes and managed a smile in response. what she did next surprised him immensely. she reached her hand into her pyjama pants and gathered her own white honeydew liquid on her fingers and then drew that hand of hers to Coryo’s own lips, “taste me,” she breathed with a compelling spell on her tongue that had Coryo not even thinking twice before he did as he was told. 
she slid her fingers in-between his pretty bow lips, watching it happen with hungry eyes all the while, and Coryo welcomed her digits with delight. his tongue swirled around her fingers as he sucked her liquid off them, and moaned at the taste of her, all the while keeping his eyes on hers. she grinned faintly, just adoring the sight of her fingers in his mouth, his messy curls and pink cheeks. y/n leaned down close to his face and pulled her fingers out slowly, his tongue following right after them. she trailed her fingers across his lips, tracing their edges and corners as Coryo parted them wider, she looked onto him with insatiable hunger, turning him into a complete puddle under her. she kissed his lips with her hand across his cheek, thumb digging into the corner of his lips, right in the middle of her kisses. it turned Coryo on again, even though he deemed it impossible. 
“how am i?” y/n asked quietly with a smile on her lips, and Coryo returned the expression. 
“sweet like sugar,” he told her the absolute truth, making y/n smile wider. he lightly bit into her thumb as he looked up at her, “we both need to change pyjama pants,” he said quietly, suddenly shy. y/n looked down at between them, which was the last thing Coryo wanted her to do, but the look on her face assured him altogether. 
“oh, Coryo, that’s alright,” she assured him about his accident and caressed his cheek with her hand, bearing the sweetest face of all as she looked at him, “don’t be sorry.” she pleaded and Coryo nodded with a true smile on his pink bow lips. he clearly enjoyed listening to her telling him what to do, and had no problem obeying her. “we’ll find some in the laundry room. but after that we’re really going to bed,” she said, and he nodded again, “you do need your rest for tomorrow.” 
right, tomorrow. the games were still on, and Coryo was required to attend. he should be walking into Heavensbee hall high and proud—if no one had killed Lucy Gray during the night, of course—acting his best and looking his best, pretending like there was not a scratch on him. another day, another act. though, could he really hide something like what he’d done tonight from the whole world? they were watching, for sure.
“will you be there with me, tomorrow?” he asked as y/n pulled him up from the bed, and she looked up at him with a special glint in her eyes. she could cry at his earnest question. he wanted her there. maybe her little fantasy of them walking into Heavensbee hall hand in hand finally could become reality. they’d kept up the casual classmate relationship appearance to everyone else so far, no one even suspected a thing of the slightest bit of friendship between them. it should be pretty obvious, but their classmates proved otherwise.
y/n squeezed his hand hard in hers and gave him the biggest smile, “of course i will,” she assured him, “if you want me to be there, with you, in front of everyone.” she pointed out and seemed to be asking him a question without actually asking him.
Coryo realized then that this night between them had changed everything. especially this last intimate exchange, but he didn’t exactly know why. it just had changed his whole attitude towards her and their secret friendship that had recently turned into a relationship. he didn’t even care that anyone knew now, in fact – he wanted to show her off to the whole world, he wanted them all to know that he was with her, that he had landed her, that he belonged to her. that was with him, that she loved him, that they loved each other. nothing else mattered to him, really. he forgot about the rest of the world when he was with her.
“i do want that, yes,” Coryo told her with pride on his face, “i want them all to see us.” he said simply, but implied much more, his eyes expressing conviction and charisma, and he made y/n smile wide. smile like she was the happiest girl in the world. with Coryo, she might just be that.
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yoru-no-seiiki · 2 months
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Shit, I just saw you had different accounts for different genres and I already requested on your main non smut(??) account😭😭 Okay, okay, I have a new totally original idea. What about.. male pervert yandere enemy x gn or female reader? Like enemies to lovers but one is only in on it because of their masochistic tendencies and they just love being dominated. And please add nsfw of him jerking off, finding her sweaty (sweet) gym tshirt and it being mentioned that he has, I don't know, JERKED OFF TO THEM IN FUCKING CLASS. (The oneshot could be in class👀👀)
- I'm 🙈 anon from your main account, you don't have to complete both of the requests, either one I know would make me cum, but please I'm so desperate for cocky ass bakugo katsuki like bitch guys who are so submissive and vulnerable on the inside IM BEGGING YOU.. omg, now I'm like them, fuck.
This got me pissing my pants ngl- but aaaaa yess. This came at a perfect timing! (long story short i got sum good news from my scholarship stuff in Ateneo) Your audience with me has been approved.
(also I don’t think I received your other request unfortunately uhu)
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YANDERE! PERVERTED! RIVAL OC x GN! READER
tw/cw: dddne, yandere themes, male masturbation, semi-public masturbation, yun’s trauma with enrollment procedures.
MINORS/AGELESS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.
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University was hell before it even started. Due to complications with your scholarship, you and your parents had to repeatedly go out to get a whole bunch of documents in searing summer heat to ensure you kept the damn thing from falling through.
It was safe to say, you weren’t going to just take all that for granted.
You wanted to be the best student in the history of the institution, no — the whole country. Anything less than perfect would tarnish the effort your family has put into you.
But a certain Ricardo Peralta was making that oh so difficult for you.
Not only was he already a member of the student council and potential president for the following years, he was oh so disgustingly well-rounded and rich. You thought you were a try-hard? Well think again. Ricardo had you beat in many aspects.
But not all of them.
You are a people person by heart. Charismatic, and sociable. You knew how to mingle, how to get a person wrapped around your fingers. Ricardo may have the vantage point with connections now but in the future? It wouldn’t be long before everyone will turn to you instead.
And so began your petty rivalry.
It was subtle at first. Smirking at the one who got a lower score. Congratulating the other for winning second place while having a golden medal dangling from their neck. Scoffing at their rival for having a life outside academics ( pfft imagine having good time management? The two of you can never! )
And then it steadily degenerated into full blown petty fights. Violence at times. Anything aside from murdering each-other was free rein and even then there were days you two took that sort of route. It was mostly you though. For some reason, his parents were quite fond of you and would always let you into their mansion. This gave you plenty of opportunities to drug his ass.
You didn’t know it was because of a deal his parents made with yours to give him access to your room.
Ricardo studied you harder than the academics he worshipped his entire life. He knew you far longer than you did him. You were the reason he strove so much to be perfect. The only reason he wanted to be perfect was for you.
He knew your parents would never think to pay for the outrageous fees the University you (and by extension him) wanted to go to, so he made his parents start a scholarship program for gifted students (Anything to make their son happy). You were already guaranteed to get in from the beginning, and he felt bad for having made you panic from the strings he had to pull so that you’d always have the same classes/schedules.
So he let you win some of the little games you two had. In any case, nothing beats the reward of your smile. And the smug smirk you’d give him as you loomed over the desk, your chest almost resting on his face.
He shook his head, he can save those thought for after he stole another set of used underwear.
He usually came to your locker after P.E. it was when your scent wouldn’t be covered by whatever you sprayed on yourself. Don’t get him wrong, Ricardo was a germaphobe and a half but those cheap perfumes and deodorants you slathered all over yourself so you wouldn’t smell half bad after your exercises couldn’t compare to the scent of your body.
In anycase, today Ricardo got greedy. Impatient. Something his parents were sure to have reprimanded him on. But he couldn’t help it. Could you really blame him? It suddenly started raining out in the field. The way the water made your shirt cling unto your clothes practically made you irresistible.
“Ngh . . . [Y/N]. J-just like that . . . use me . . .” Tears formed at the corner of his eyes as he mumbled in pleasure. If you just walked a little more, perhaps leaned your head around the corner. . . god, he could imagine the disdain on your face. The utter disgust you’d show him.
It didn’t help that you were slandering him just a few feet away.
“That piece of shit, Ricardo. He totally fucking cheated.” You cursed, so unlike your usual polite tone with your fellow batch-mates and the faculty. He hears a resounding thud right after wards.
The movement around his shaft only gets faster. His grip tighter, harsher, as he imagines the way you’d abuse his cock. If he added any more force he’d probably tear himself apart. The thought of disappointing you is the one thing keeping him from harming himself.
His hand only ever stuttered due to the sound of your friend’s voice, ear piercing and grotesque as it is in contrast to yours, “Aray! Nadamay pa talaga yung mukha ko-“
“Shut the fuck up!” You angrily replied, this time slamming the locker behind Ricardo, making him moan stumble forward a little.
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
Streams of white leave the tip of his cock, your threat shoving him off the ledge of pleasure. Your rain and sweat covered shirt now drenched with another type of liquid.
[Notes]:
Aray! Nadamay pa talaga yung mukha ko — Ouch! You really just brought my face into the fray.
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moonsaver · 2 months
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Hi! It’s @pix3lplays! (On anon because I have another account and I can’t switch which account I’m asking from haha)
I wanted to say thanks for being so nice when I responded to your comment on one of my posts~I really appreciated what you said hehe, definitely made me feel bit more confident and inspired me to keep writing :)
So I thought I’d throw an ask out since requests are open~
If you’re not interested no problem but I’ve thought about it a little and I thought maybe you’d have some thoughts.
Yandere!Sunday when his darling somehow gets seriously hurt, how do you think he’d feel, what would he do?
Personally I think he’s a complete control freak already when it comes to reader, so it just gets WORSE…ANYWAYS I wanna hear YOUR thoughts if you’re interested in the prompt hehe~ also if you’ve already talked about this oops I must’ve missed it, sorry in advance-
But yeah thanks so much, it was really cool to talk to you, take care of yourself, please!!
Hello Pixel! Thank you for sending in this ask, you're very sweet haha <3 i like your writing and im glad i helped you become more confident in it. Also,same issue here, i cant send asks from this account specifically, so i use anon or just use my personal blog to send asks.
Anyways, onto the request,
Ooh, my Yan!Sunday brain is ticking.. he really is an absolute control freak, and is a bit of a mess when he sees you seriously injured. A miscalculation, ignorance, negligence, or perhaps just.. an oversight from his part? Whatever the reason is, he's in high-drive now, and absolutely stressed about it. He only has a worried and distant look on his face, and at this stage he's prone to easily snapping at anyone, but his mind would be on a completely different level of stress. How dare they? How dare anyone lay a filthy inch of a finger on you? To stain you with their sins, and to breach your skin in such a grotesque manner.. he's absolutely enraged.
He insists on tending to you himself personally, unless it's so serious paramedics have to be involved. Stays by your side until he cant, sitting on the egde of the bed, body turned halfway to face you, fingers ghosting the edge of your face with tenderness.
However, this tenderness is only limited to your recovery period.
After you wake up or recover a bit, practically any freedom you would have had is gone. Completely.
Scolds you, borderline yells at you, holds you still with a deathly tight grip on your arms, forcing you to look into his eyes. This happened because you left. This happened because you were out of his watch. This all happened because of your freedom. Don't you dare even bother mentioning going out anywhere. You will be surveillanced almost all the time. He spends a suffocating amount of time next to you, harshly spitting back whenever you try to protest or reason with him. His words aren't gentle at all, and you're getting on his nerves. Perhaps he should just look over you himself, force you into a borderline coma in the dream fluid, and deal swiftly with the perpetrators.
Robin catches wind of this at some point.. she tells you that he's just worried, and there's a lot of people that don't quite hold The Family in high regards. Just.. its okay. Let him do this.
Let him pick out your clothes, brush your hair, check your healing wounds, gently ebb the water over them as you bathe, and kiss the skin of your shoulder when both of you stay silent after another argument.
If you still continue arguing.. he doesn't have a choice. He slumps a bit, a hand coming up to massage his temple as he sighs, and tells you in a softer voice that he's terrified. The worst thing that could happen did happen. He almost lost you. Can't you just go with it and let him be assured? You're dragging it out much more than it needs to be. He's spent many sleepless nights, ideas of dreamscapes turning into nightmares as the image of your hurt face flashes in his mind. Just cooperate, for Aeons' sake.
And no one speaks after that. He emotionally blackmails and manipulates you as a sort of final resort. Surely, you'd understand. It's not like it's far from the truth anyway. He is scared. But more than that, he's enraged this happened in the first place.
Adding on more to it,
Once things calm down.. in a twisted sort of way, he realizes just how perfectly he can get you under his complete control from these events. He may even not so subtly orchestrate similar events to scare you, to keep you in check, forcing you to rely on him completely, as he swoops in at the right time, acting as some kind of a "savior". Its a sick mindset, and he's not ashamed of it. Oh dear, you were just so pleasantly compliant after that event. And it just solidifies his statement that you shouldn't be going outside anymore, or be constantly accompanied by the Bloodhound Family guards, after only a few incidents of various threat levels.
In the end, it's a cycle that repeats up until you finally give in and let him take any and all freedom you have. He sets down your hairbrush with a gentle 'clack', kisses the crown of your head, and tells you it's alright. He will take such good care of you. Just listen to him. Listen to his every word. He has your best intentions in mind. Don't think about anything, anyone. You're a smart girl, surely you understand?
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cassandraclare · 2 months
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hiii cassie 💛 i hope you’ve been enjoying your time away writing, your locations are always beautiful per usual and you deserve it so much, question regarding a certain tween blondie that loves potato chips (yes, tis’ kit)
i’ve found myself struggling resonate fully with kits character due to the fact that in tda it seemed he was set up as “the new jace” yet..during my current tmi re read, i’m just NOW realizing how completely (emphasis on completely) different they are from eachother. and i also find myself struggling because he’s made to seem like he has an “uncanny resemblance” to jace yet so many of us readers know they aren’t from the same line of herondales at all. i’d figure jace gets his incredibly good looks from stephen, james, cordelia, will etc. HIS ancestors. while kit has completely different ancestors, along with johnny rooks genes.
i fear that if he’s referred to anymore as a “mini jace” that i won’t ever be able to fully resonate w him due to that lack of logic taking me out of the book 🥹 sorry to point this all out i tried to ignore it but im just like “will i have to read about him being jaces twin despite the lack of genetic sense it makes all of..twp?”
Hmm. I mean, I don't think there's anything indicating he's Jace's twin — otherwise people would be constantly mixing them up and Clary, upon seeing him, would be staggered rather than curious. :)
I think you have to decide, a bit, what really bothers you re: longstanding tropes and science in fantasy — after all, the way the Herondale mark is passed down makes no sense genetically. Neither does their ability to see ghosts. None of it has anything to do with genetics, because it is about magic, and so is Jace and Kit's resemblance. The idea that people who have ancestors in common long ago have a sort of ineffable resemblance goes way back to the origins of fantasy. It's about pointing out a preternatural connection, not about common genes. It exists as a mythic trope that isn't connected to science in the same way the mythic trope exists that you can inherit not just, say, eye color, but also personality quirks like loyalty or evilness. (See: TV Tropes page "In the Blood.")
For what it's worth, I don't think of Jace and Kit as characters who are particularly similar, personality-wise or in any other way, really. They both had traumatic childhoods, and were later adopted into new families, and that makes for some points in common, but I have never thought of Kit as a new Jace (we still have the OG Jace, so he doesn't need replacing!) or a mini Jace or anything like that, so anything that seems otherwise is unintentional or open to interpretation.
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strawnarrries · 9 months
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because im sad about the last show, here's a little imagine about y/n and harry reminiscing the past two years the night before the last show :(
warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic
Your eyes fluttered open and you realized it was still dark outside, a sign that it was not quite morning just yet. You're not sure why you woke up. It was like your body knew something was off because when you turned over, the bed was empty beside you.
Rubbing your eyes to clear the sleepy haze, you noticed light coming from under the closed door of the bedroom in the villa you and Harry are staying in. Getting up out of bed, you opened the door and the sudden change in lighting burned your eyes. After getting used to it, you walked towards the kitchen and spotted your husband, leaning up against the counter, sipping on something inside of a mug.
“Harry?” you hummed, walking up to him.
“Oh hey, did I wake you up? I’m sorry," he looked up at you with doe eyes and messy hair sticking up in every direction.
“What are you doing?”
“Can’t sleep.”
You popped your bottom lip out and wrapped your arms around his bare waist, his instinctively wrapping around yours after setting his mug on the counter, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just can't believe the last show's tomorrow night.”
“Aw, I know. You wanna talk about it?” you hummed, looking up at him with tired eyes.
"I'm gonna miss it. A lot," he whispered, "but at the same time I'm excited for a long break."
"It's bittersweet."
"Yeah," he nodded.
"It's gonna be weird not getting to watch you on stage every night in your sparkly outfits."
He chuckled softly, "You don't get those outfits at home, do ya?"
"No, I get you either naked or in the one stupid shirt that you refuse to throw away even though it's practically in shreds."
"Thought you loved that shirt?" he teased.
You glared up at him before changing the subject, "What'dya think you'll miss the most? Just being on stage?"
"Yeah. Performing. It's one of my favorite things in the world to do. I just get such a rush from being out there and interacting with the fans and hearing them scream my lyrics."
"And hearing them bark at you," you added.
He giggled, "Yes, that too."
"You'll be back though. It's not the end."
“You're right. I feel like this tour was just special for some reason, I dunno. I fear I’m gonna get really emotional tomorrow on stage though. I was holding back tears at the show the other night," he chuckled.
“It’s okay to get emotional. You know me and your mom will be sobbing the entire night."
He smiled softly as he cupped your jaw and rubbed his thumb back and forth across your cheek, "I've been reflecting a lot recently. So much has happened in the last two years. It's wild."
“You've done, like what, 150 shows?”
“169 tomorrow."
“Holy shit, Harry. Most of them were completely sold out too. Do you realize how incredible that is?”
“It's mad. I think this has been the most successful tour I’ve ever been on.”
“Oh, by far.”
“Gonna miss seeing everyone every day. Gonna miss the fans and being up on stage. I've had some of the best shows of my life on this tour.”
“Harryween,” you giggled fondly at the memory that popped into your head.
“That was fun as fuck,” he giggled back.
“You’ve done more than just tour though. So many award shows, Coachella, music videos, you starred in two different movies, Harry.”
“I have,” he nodded, smiling proudly at himself, "Looking back, the amount of love and support that I've gotten from everyone, the fans, my team, my friends, and family, and from you is just - it's - it's so overwhelming like I can't even explain it to you. Like my mind can't comprehend that this is my life. Been 13 years and I still can't believe it."
"'cause you deserve it, baby. With the amount of love you give out and just the type of person you are in general, you deserve everything that's come your way. Have I ever told you how proud of you I am?" you teased, being the fact that those words leave your lips multiple times after every single one of his accomplishments.
"Never. Not once," he chuckled.
“Well, I am,” you hummed pressing a sweet kiss to his sternum, just under where his cross necklace lay, "It makes me feel so prideful that I get to call you my husband."
“Thank you, my love. You know I wouldn't be here without you.”
You rested your head on his warm chest, hugging him tighter, embracing the sweet silence before breaking it, "Can I be honest with you?”
He nodded as you looked back up at him.
“I know it's selfish but a big part of me is excited that it’s over because then I get you all to myself and don’t have to share you with the world.”
“Finally don’t have to hear you nagging for my attention all the time,” he chuckled.
“Heyyyyyy,” you whined.
“I’m joking, baby.”
You rolled your eyes teasingly.
“We have a lot to look forward to.”
“Like what?” he asked, although he knew exactly what you were referencing to, he just wanted to hear you say it.
“You becoming a daddy.”
“Really lookin forward to that. I can’t wait ‘till you have a cute little baby bump.”
“Gotta get me pregnant first.”
"You don't gotta worry 'bout that. We’re gonna be goin' at it all day every day when we’re on holiday next month,” he smirked.
“I can't even explain to you how excited I am for that. Vacation Harry is my favorite Harry."
He grinned, “I love you, Y/N."
“I love you too.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours for a few sweet kisses before you hummed sleepily, “Will you come back to bed with me now?”
“Yeah, c’mon.”
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octuscle · 25 days
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My family and i went to the airport to take our trip to Italy, but somehow my parents and sister seats were placed in tourist class while i got bussiness wich is weird because im just a 19 years old chubby guy that doesnt have a job. Now that im on my seat my belt is apparently stuck and i cant get up, and my skin somehow is dark than before, whats happening?
The stewardess asks you something. You don't understand a word. She repeats in English whether you have already taken a look at the menu and decided on a main course. With a heavy English accent, you say "Prendo il pesce per favore".
Flying in Business Class is great. You enjoy the service. And the food. And the choice of movies. First Dune and Kung Fu Panda. But then it gets boring. And you discover a few old Adriano Celentano classics. You don't even realize that you're watching them in the original… Without subtitles…
When you land in Rome, well-rested but a little rumpled, you think about what you've forgotten. There was something else… But you don't know what. Gianni hands you your coat and tells you that you've already been registered in the Arrival Lounge. You smile at him and ask if he's staying in Rome today. Gianni is one of your favorite flight attendants. In heaven. And in bed. Gianni apologizes. He's going back to New York today. "Peccato," you reply. "Ma si faccia sentire se mai avesse bisogno di un letto a Roma!" You grab your Fendi weekender. Your luggage will be delivered directly to the lounge. As usual.
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"Signore, la sua camicia e la sua giacca sono appese stirate vicino alla porta". You love the service here on the ground. Amazingly efficient. Not like so much else here in Italy. Especially in Rome. But you're from Naples. You're used to something completely different. You open the door. Freshly showered and freshly coiffed. The lady from the ground staff is still at the door. You're not sure if she wanted a tip. Or a look at your six-pack. She gets both. You smile and thank her. And then you start your day.
È bello essere in viaggio. Ma l'unico posto al mondo dove si può vivere stabilmente è e rimane l'Italia!
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roseworth · 2 years
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rating different versions of jason by how insane they are
someone made a joke about this in the tags of one of my posts and i thought that was hilarious so now im doing it. these are just the ones i could think off of the top of my head i cannot stress how little effort im putting into this
canon jason: 8/10
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yes he is extremely mentally ill but everything wrong with him is funny so no one should ever fix him. sure babygirl killed some people but he knew exactly what he was doing. not to mention he is legally sane according to arkham asylum :)! he is insane but in a normal way
three jokers jason: 9/10
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he is a little more insane than normal jason i am going to be real. not his fault though. same origin but things are 10x worse for him here bc this entire book is titled "be mean to jason at every turn." however i do take off some insanity points because he is very pretty
bombshells jason: 0/10
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he is a little guy that has done nothing wrong ever in his life. completely sane and if anything ever happens to him i will kill everyone in this room then myself
world without young justice jason: 3/10
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he is mostly normal except for the fact that he knows hes supposed to be dead and is having a crisis over that the whole time :( also he burns to death at the end of the issue which i guess isnt necessarily insane but its not normal so it gets a few insane points
flashpoint jason: 10/10
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babygirl WHAT r u doing as a priest. what is wrong with you
wfa jason: 9/10
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he is too normal in this and it makes me suspicious. what do you mean youre just hanging out with your family. what are your intentions. why.
suicide squad get joker jason: 6/10
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i guess hes relatively sane here. also hes in belle reve and not arkham so he is legally sane here too! he gets some insane points for being in a bad book, but also some points taken away because he is very pretty here. most of the points come from the fact that he didnt shoot joker at the end. what the fuck.
arkham knight jason: 30/10
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sweetheart we are going to put you in therapy fr. he is so near and dear to my heart and there is so much wrong with him. this man invented the word insane and he gets worse every day. he is so babygirl. he is the "him" in the phrase "i could fix him" because there is nothing you could do to make him worse. and i love him so much
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sideblogdotjpeg · 16 days
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not over it actually . that sol is a clone and what his response to that says about him as a character.
like okay. traditional clone angst shit is like "oh am i real/im not the original/im just a fake copy of someone else/etc etc etc" . and that route of a character arc might have even made sense w sols whole launchpad history - that he self-identifies as a sidekick. but also. maybe that rejection of being the main character is what allows sol to take a different route entirely. swag isnt just his prime clone, hes his "daddyself". sol doesnt really care about being the prime version of himself, he just wants family.
im so deeply fascinated by how the concept of clone-dom intersects w the concepts of family. what is a son but a version of you fated to go through all the same patterns of experience you have. what is a brother but a version of you whose choices has led him to a place you could never go. what is family if not enveloped in fear, love, idolisation and rejection. what is family if not a piece of your heart fragile and vulnerable and walking away from you.
anyway. so like. just compare how mothership sees clones (expendable identical bodies) vs how sol sees clones (brad & bron, youll always be a part of me you are me)
like. does that drive anyone else crazy.
and the original point of this post has completely flown away from me but in a feeble attempt to bring it back. my interpretation of sol is like. sol doesnt want to be a hero, he wants a purpose to fight for. he wants people to fight for. he wants to be part of this thing *bigger than he is* to dedicate himself to. and that used to be the mothership corporation, and has now taken the form of his friends and family. its only natural he would have adapted the spore network, as someone so clearly driven by his connections to other people. it makes so much sense he would see his clone identity this way because ultimately he sees himself in terms of his relationships to other people
(and if you want to be insane like i am, then you can think about sol as a child abandoned and alone in a derelict waterpark, so desperate for any kind of connection that it comes to form a defining character motivation for the rest of his life) 👍
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