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#which is a nice dynamic and refreshing to play with

fairyhaos · 3 months

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how seventeen would act as a webtoon fantasy world prince

this was written with those virtual character dating simulation thingies in mind btw?? like. those unrealistic webtoon isekai-esque stuff. ive never played them before but this is based on my interpretation of them lmao

masterlist

seungcheol

either you fall in love with prince seungcheol at first sight or it's some charged enemies to lovers dynamic until someone finally realises they've fallen. he's just such a huge and great and formidable presence and he is just The Best protector. there's ofc gonna be some sort of altercation where you get hurt and you can bet that his eyes go stormy and he's asking "who did this to you" in a low voice, full of promise to murder anyone who hurt you. watches you with stars in his eyes when you descend the staircase in the beautiful outfit you're wearing as his partner to a royal ball, and that's how he knows that you're the one

jeonghan

prettier than you. every time he appears on screen there's a bunch of shiny sparkles and floating hearts and at least one of the other faceless side-princesses has to faint at his beauty in the background of the scene. he's charactertised by his soft eyes and the glinting teeth in his smile and the way he always has the most out-of-pocket sentences that leave his lips. he's really pretty and really smart but also???? unexpectedly does little things that show that he cares about you. prince jeonghan is written as the webtoon trope where he looks like a laid-back pretty boy but secretly loves you dearly and would defend you with his life

joshua

childhood friends who drifted away due to circumstances in their own kingdoms before finally reuniting at a ball and realising oh god... they both grew up to be so beautiful. there's some underlying, dramatic plot involving betrayal and corruption in the temple (dude it's always the temple) but your love for one another is always there, unspoken but ringing true constantly. does it kind of give you plot armour? yeah, bc the writer doesn't want anything to happen to joshua. (or you. but mostly joshua.) but there's also at least 6 shirtless prince joshua scenes bc the writer loves him so. take what you can get.

junhui

he's just Doing His Best okay. he's been married off to you, a royal from another kingdom, and he's kinda having a bad time bc the climate of your kingdoms are just so different but you're also kind of being all snappish with him like he chose to be married off to you?? but you're also really pretty and sometimes you're quite nice and it's obvious you're a good person from how you talk about your subjects and he knows that you don't like him but he thinks he might be falling in love with you, which is kind of confusing for everyone. comedy-fluff-misunderstandings webtoon style.

hoshi

playful younger prince. rebellious. you first meet him in some rundown, peasant area and you genuinely think he's just the illegitimate son of a noble rather than the prince himself bc he's just so friendly and blatantly disregarding all sorts of common court etiquette. as someone stifled by the rigid aristocratic structures, you find it refreshing, and talking to him is just so easy and you get to express yourself so well around him. before you know it, you're in love, and when you feel horribly betrayed at the reveal that he's the prince, well.... perhaps someone else out of the two of you managed to catch feelings too.

wonwoo

he's always so calm and composed and it makes you want to climb him like a tree and wring his shoulders to finally ruffle his leaves a little and find out what makes him tick. you want to be the one to crack the secret to prince jeon wonwoo, basically. will he let you? no. he hates you. at least, that's what you think, before something happens at a horse-riding tournament through the woods that you're participating in and your horse becomes out of control, and from then on, wonwoo never leaves your side. almost as if he was scared that he'd truly lose you, and he realises that he never wants that to happen, ever.

woozi

guys. guys prince jihoon is perfect for a prince x knight trope. prince jihoon who's head knight and always ends up sniping with you, the one knight in his charge that always snarks back. prince jihoon who spars with his knights often and always seems to be the closest in skill level with you. prince jihoon who mostly sees you in your armour so to see you dressed in finery at a ball makes him blink because you're actually rather beautiful. and you, who feel torn between your duty and the comfortable banter that you've developed with the crown prince that makes you crave more and more every time he turns to leave.

minghao

you rarely go out to balls but this time your family convinces you to come to the masquerade ball the royal family are holding for the crown prince. there, you meet a handsome masked man, who leads you through one of the fast dances and has you laughing into him before you share a fascinatingly intellectual conversation with him until the ball ends and from there, you're whisked away by your chatty (but well-meaning) family and you never see him again until a dramatic encounter at the market where you're about to get robbed but a familiar voice steps in. is it a cliche plot? yeah, but prince minghao is drawn to be utterly gorgeous so people will stay for the art

mingyu

is literally soooo drop-dead gorgeous that you promise yourself you're not gonna fall in love with him bc like???? he's the prince from a neighbouring kingdom that you're being forced to marry. this off-the-charts handsomeness is just a ploy to get you to act out a cliche of falling for him. but the more time you spend with him, the more you find that despite being (almost terrifyingly) handsome, he's also kind of... adorable? so... maybe you'll rethink your decision to not fall in love with him.... especially when he trips over his feet and accidentally blurts out how he's in love with you when on a walk in the palace gardens

dokyeom

ray-of-sunshine crown prince who is so annoyingly perfect that you feel kind of irritated. literally it's soooo obvious that the writer has a thing for puppy-coded sunshine bright boys bc it even makes the reader fall for him too. you have an (admittedly one-sided) rivalry with him, bc he's just so kind and loved by all and it fills you with hatred bc you've been nothing but despised and shunned your entire life. but then, some small, kind gesture that he does to you marks the beginning of change in your feelings, and it's as his eyes find yours during yet another ball that you realise... oh. perhaps you've fallen for him after all.

seungkwan

spoilt brat. but also your childhood best friend, so you've learnt to deal with his tendencies and know how to hold him back from kicking someone in the shins in a very un-royal way, and have even grown to love him. like a friend, ofc. however, the weird feeling in your stomach from seeing him having to entertain foreign royalty.... it's definitely not jealousy, right? definitely not. at least, you don't think it is, until seungkwan and you overhear his parents talking of an arranged marriage with another kingdom and you realise with startling clarity that you never want to lose seungkwan to someone else

vernon

honestly. vernon is probably the ordinary guy who was isekai-ed into a fantasy novel as the crown prince. but like, Why does he manage to do so well in his role???? he's panicking the entire time, but he's not necessarily doing badly, and he manages to make you fall for him even harder than you do in the original novel. the second male lead doesn't even have the chance to be an option bc vernon is literally the only person you see. he doesn't know how it happens, but he speed-runs the entire book in one month and then you're confessing your love for him and uh. he might actually be in love with you too.

chan

prince chan is the most gentle and most courteous prince of all time. bows all deeply and respectfully when you first meet him, and he's careful not to touch you without your permission. has such a captivating smile and such captivating words that you can't help but find your gaze gravitating to him at all times. stares at you all awed when you laugh at a particularly funny joke he made. he will 100% definitely treat you right forever. kisses you all soft when he leaves for a battle, your handkerchief tucked into his clothes as a reminder of what he can never leave behind

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @jeonghanfr

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sepublic · 2 years

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Yknow, I’m kinda relieved and grateful and impressed, that they didn’t go the route so common in fanworks of Luz being Amity’s therapist in their relationship, and that being all she’s good for in making Lumity solely about Amity’s development; Like obviously, I love the tenderness of Luz, as this girl who truly was the catalyst for Amity’s growth, as a person she could always count on to be herself and lower her guard around. Someone who would comfort Amity and whom she could trust, but like;

I’m glad they didn’t make it one-sided, and have Luz pull all the heavy lifting and legwork in their relationship. It’s not just mutual, it’s arguably the other way around with Amity doing more of the support for Luz, although Luz’s impact on catalyzing her arc can’t also be forgotten either. With how Amity tries to get Luz to open up about her mom and then dad respectively... It’s very mutual and healthy.

And I feel it reminds the fandom to give Amity some more credit; She’s not as weak and soft as we might make her out to be, she’s capable of providing the same love for Luz that she herself needs! Even when Luz rescues her from Odalia, we see Amity apply her admiration of Luz to form her own resolve to escape before that; Which leads to Amity standing up to her mother! Luz isn’t just saving Amity, she’s giving her the opportunity to save herself; Amity already has plenty of personal initiative to be better and stand up to her parents, on the basis of morals alone! Luz can count on Amity to rescue her from a predicament, too.

Not to mention Amity being allowed to re-cultivate her relationships with her siblings, Alador and Willow; Ensuring she doesn’t exist solely to take in Luz’s love and support while only being her girlfriend. Her life and sense of right and wrong doesn’t revolve around Luz. It prevents Lumity from becoming potentially codependent, and it’s refreshing to see how Luz can actually cause issues in their relationship, not the other way around with Amity constantly caving in to her parents like in fanon. Not only does it hearken back to how Luz admittedly was a disaster magnet for Amity and made her mistakes in S1, it also continues that nuanced dynamic they had from the start, where Luz does sometimes cause problems and Amity has valid feelings, rather than just being the meanie with the sole burden of apologizing and learning from her actions.

And it realistically frames Luz as not being this perfect, do-no-wrong hero; She makes mistakes! She can be a mess and a struggle to be around, it can be frustrating around her as it definitely was prior to Luz meeting Eda and King! It makes Luz compellingly flawed and not just this ideal protagonist. She’s still learning and it’s nice to see Luz be the one who occasionally still messes up, hiding things from Amity; Reaching Out even had Luz be a disaster magnet for Amity one last time, ruining the Bonesborough Brawl and causing some public embarrassment with Alador’s vocal intervention. Luz’s epiphanies are informed by seeing how she can sometimes hurt people!

It’s a realistic relationship but the problems aren’t contrived; And it gives Luz some much-needed love and opportunity to be herself, when Amity calls her out over that. To let go. Even if she doesn’t take it, she’s still receiving that love, and that’s something that I feel was underrated in fanon before S2 made it explicit; That Luz has a burden from always giving, so she deserves to receive just as much!

It’s not imbalanced where Amity benefits more from their relationship than Luz, she very much plays her part and we see how Amity contributes to Luz learning to open up. It’s not taking the easy, obvious route of just making Luz perform all of the emotional legwork for Amity. That’s exhausting, but we get to see Luz lean on Amity’s shoulder too; And again, it doesn’t infantilize Amity and gives her agency, which I respect Lumity and Raeda both emphasizing as a sign of respect and trust.

Amity isn’t some helpless victim, some poor uwu baby for Luz to save, she’s not a damsel; She’s also a hero to Luz just as much as Luz was to her, and it frees up Lumity’s relationship from fitting each girl into a particular ‘role’ like the ‘strong one’ so to speak. It’s not just little or big spoon, and it reminds us how vulnerable Luz is despite her loud and boisterous personality. That pain deserves credit too and I really respect this choice to let Luz lean on the shoulder in S2, instead of making her just Amity’s therapist; It’s a good service to both girls’ characters, and honestly a precedent we should all take cues from. They each reached out to the other; Luz already did a lot encouraging Amity to be herself again in Season 1, now with Season 2 Amity returns the favor and encourages Luz to do the same. Season 3 is likely where it’ll all culminate...

#the owl house #lumity #luz noceda #amity blight #meta

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crash-and-cure · 1 year

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Burnin’ a Hole Where I Lay (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader) (Omegaverse)

Gif by @troubleinapinksuit

Summary: In which you long ago decided that the standard Alpha and Omega Relationship wasn’t for you, but your best friend Elvis had other plans.

A/N: This is a backup post I made because I absolutely refuse to let this be a case of this one not ending up in the tags again. Based on this request. Semi-Relevant, as i’ve been writing, in my head I’ve been ranking each reader as to how likely they are to bite, and undoubtedly this is my most feral creation, too bad she exists in a world where it may as well be a whole ass love language. So as a quick note as to the dynamics of this Omegaverse, relationshipss are primarily judged on their ability to Breed so A/O are the preferred/seen as the standard, wtih B/O and B/B being seen as acceptable, as a result an A/B relationship is seen as unacceptable. Also Alpha Presentation is marked when they gain their unusually elongated canines, and later go into a rut, Omegas go into their first heat, and Betas essentially present by not presenting whatsoever. Knotting is a bit of a secret in this world, as it only occurs under pretty rare circumstances. Probably some other rules I’m spacing on right now, so feel free to ask if any questions arise. Also I fully acknowledge that there is no way they would be watching The Twilight Zone, but for the purposes of this story let’s pretend.

Warnings: First and foremost this is a Yandere!Elvis so expect themes of delusional and manipulative behavior. VERY dubious consent, (in which reader is a slave to their own desires of consciously not wanting, but their body uncosciously does want it). Set in an Omegaverse so expect the usual. Implied birth control tampering. Bit of a breeding kink implied. Sexual harassment masked as being especially touchy. Smut depicted, that includes penetrative sex (m/f), knotting, cockwarming, cumplay, marking, and a bit of blood play. Also depictions of Parental abandonment and neglect towards reader. Reader is not in a good place y’all and as a result has humor as an unhealthy coping mechanisms and self-depreciative attitude. Instances of reader being yelled at both by Elvis and another character. Best friends to lovers (albeit reluctantly) Please do not interact if you are under 18 years old.

Word Count: 21k (I need to be stopped)

My Masterlist

Denim jeans were a mistake, you think to yourself trying your best not to fan yourself in a very indecent place as you and your group walked back to the rest of the motorcade sitting idle on some backwoods route somewhere in the Florida panhandle. It was a nice cool 102 degrees this morning when the lot of you had taken off so by noon it was hotter than hades, which had been the perfect time for Hank Snow’s car to all but combust, forcing the entire convoy to a screeching halt. The Louisiana Hayride apparently operated the same as the Military: No man left behind.

You and your naturally-run-hot-thighs were having a wonderful time, walking down this stretch of road, along with the other non-talent people who were roped into making a snack and refreshments run at the nearest service station about a half-mile back. You dab yourself, praying you haven’t sweat the last of your face off, as that is the last thing you need right now. The last leg of the hayride tour was proving to be the most arduous as now home felt so close yet still so far off. And this hiccup further proved your theory that hell is to be found on tour.

Though upon seeing them not too far away from you now, your group does admittedly make this far more bearable. You’re not about to let them know that though. So before your thoughts get too chummy about them you set the brown bag from the service station down onto the grass and grab a hold of one of the bottles before you silently stalk forward. Some of them see you and are all too willing to comply when you hold a finger up to your lips in order to better sneak up on your mark. Your prey none the wiser to your dastardly scheme, gleefully tells the tale of seeing Big Boy Crudup as a boy, before it’s interrupted by a yelp and then a subsequent long string of curses as he’s taken by surprise by the cool kiss of the bottle to the back of his neck.

He whips around ready to unleash his fury on the poor soul who dared interrupt him, until you watch in real time as the fire in his eyes dissipate and turn softer upon seeing you giggling up a storm. “Goddamn Y/N, what was that for?” Elvis says exasperated, but doing a piss poor job of hiding his amusement as he wipes the now cool sweat off the back of his neck.

“Felt like it,” you shrug, handing him the bottle before you turn around to retrieve your bag where you had left it, and return bearing gifts.

“Say lil’ lady, you got anythin’ in that bag for some talented musicians?” Scotty asks.

Quick as a whip, you reply, “Sure do. Ya know any?” as you set the bag down on the hood of the car.

Elvis gives a full belly laugh at you, and a beat later, do the others follow suit.

“Did they only have orange soda?” Red remarks as he’s digging through the brown bag.

“No, but one of you mooks, and you know who you are,” you say, pointing to the lot of them. “Have not eaten a single goddamn fruit or vegetable since Texas, and this was the only way I figured I could get y’all to not die from scurvy.”

“Don’t be stupid Y/N,” Billy asserted, nervously trying to hide that he was the one you were talking about. “You only get that when you're out on the sea.”

“I thought you get it when you eat too much salt,” Scotty questions, unsure as to your words.

“No you get it from bad fish,” Red asserts, all the confidence of a man who has never been out to sea.

“You’re all wrong,” you say as you look through your bag trying to find a bottle opener. “You get it when you don’t listen to the Pharmacist’s daughter and eat a goddamn orange every once in a while. Now drink.”

You can see it clear as day as, simultaneously, all of their hackles raise at the thought of being ordered around by a Beta, so they do what they usually do when you do this: they look to Elvis.

Elvis, who has been able to open his own drink with his keys, stops drinking for a moment only to state, “You heard her.” And without a second thought they all sigh in defeat as they each grab a bottle for themselves.

“That’s what I thought,” you state, triumphantly, as you fail to locate anything close to a bottle opener. “You mind,” you say to Elvis, holding your bottle up to him. He gives a little smirk as he brings the still capped bottle up to his mouth.

As he uses his teeth as a makeshift bottle opener, you catch a glimpse at his pronounced canines, and you can’t help but absentmindedly swipe your tongue on that errant tooth in your own mouth. The one that tricked you into believing that you would present as an Alpha only to disappoint nearly everyone in your life.

You’d like to believe you’re past your admittedly childish envy of his status as an Alpha, still that does little to quell that funny feeling you get in the pit of your belly when you see him pop the cap off the bottle with ease.

“I meant use the keys dummy,” you say exasperatedly, swiping the orange drink out of his grasp. “You’re gonna crack a tooth like that one a these days.”

“Aww you do care,” he half-sings to you, and you can only roll your eyes and tell him to shush. He nonetheless listens and uses the keys for his second bottle.

While you languidly sip on the orange drink, that word circles your brain for a bit. Caring is not something you’re exactly used to being called. Years ago you were called protective or watchful, when the entire world was sure as to how you would present. Nowadays in spite of the fact that you doubt you’ve changed too much over the years, you’re called nurturing or motherly.

It’s actually part of the reason you even went on tour with them. You had initially refused Elvis’ invitation to join him on tour, figuring that now was as good as any to move out of the Lauderdale courts. He begged you to go with him and be his makeup assistant on tour as you had been for every show he’d performed up until then. You were reluctant to go due to not wanting to leave the good thing you had going with your job at the Cathouse salon but then Gladys had convinced you to go in order to prevent the boys from getting too buckwild on the road. After all her years of hospitality and refusing your rent payment, you figured this was the least you could do to compensate for your extended stay in her home.

The irony of which was not lost on you as there were many nights after the two of you had your nightly phone calls with her where you would have to kick Elvis out of your motel room to go “talk” to some little chicky that would be skulking around his room (More like you slapped him on the ass and told him ‘go get em tiger’... because you absolutely did do that a few times). You did this mostly to get him out of your hair for the night, but also because in those days you had no idea how long any of this would last and you wanted him to make the most of it. You knew better than most that all things are temporary, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the ride.

Your musings are interrupted by The Colonel’s speaker car announcing the issue had been fixed and everybody better be ready to leave in less than a minute because “Time is money.” Your group quickly packs up, making a beeline back into your respective vehicles.

You quickly check your makeup in the mirror (wouldn’t do for THE Elvis Presley’s makeup girl to look anything less than immaculate, even in this abominable heat, though he’s not exactly a THE yet) as Elvis gets behind the wheel making sure Scotty and Billy got into their car, while Red scurries into the backseat (he lost all privileges to shotgun after a legendary loss to you at a bowling alley back in Baton Rouge). And just like that you’re off to hightail it to the next venue, though not before you catch a particularly nasty side-eye from Hank as he passes your car. With all his huffing and puffing every time Elvis performed, you figured it would only be inevitable the Alpha would eventually burst and blow the lot of you all the way back to Memphis. Especially as his Beta boy kept glancing your way.

So imagine your surprise when by the end of the night Hank ended up leaving and Elvis had news that that Colonel fellow wanted to go into a partnership with him. You’re gone for all of five minutes to get funnel cake and suddenly Elvis is officially on the up and up, with a new manager and everything.

Elvis trusted everybody and you trusted nobody: it made you two the perfect team. It was your natural suspicion of others that had you look over The Colonel’s initial contract and when some of the wording wasn’t sitting right with you, you called in a favor with your former boss, Kitty, who was in turn owed a favor by a Lawyer friend of hers. Even with the favor in place, he ended up taking a good chunk of your savings, which in your book was fine, as it was mostly made up of the rent that the Presley’s refused to accept from you for the past few years. Your intervention would actually prevent Elvis from going 50/50 with The Colonel, and unknowingly save him from so many headaches later down the line.

The Beta Man didn’t quite make your skin crawl, but just about, and he made it no secret how little he cared for you or how much Elvis valued your opinion. Were it not for Elvis’ insistence that you’re the only make-up artist in the world that could achieve the right look for him, you think The Colonel would have elbowed you out early into his career.

And much to his chagrin you go everywhere with him; shows, movie sets, tv appearances, you name it. Those weeks when you had back to back shows with him and just as many public appearances to keep the momentum of his career going, those were the days where you found yourself longing for the far simpler days.

You honest to god miss 8th grade year. When the world made about as much sense as it could to a twelve year old. The days when you were called the Boldest Little Girl this side of Memphis you were called after you brazenly told your music teacher to shut up when she told the stuttering new kid that he had no future in music in front of the entire class.

After a long lecture on respect and Mrs. Whatsherface made sure your knuckles had a meeting with her ruler, you left her classroom only to be met with that same kid you defended turned around and talking to himself in an empty hallway. He still somehow managed to stutter even when no one was there.

"Th-th-thank y-you," he would say before taking a long steadying breath, before squaring his narrow shoulders and looking as though he were preparing for war.

"Who ya talkin' to?" you would say over his shoulder, and instead of words he would let out a very undignified shriek. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm Y/N."

"El-Elvis," he would say, looking down at his shoes. He’s all sandy hair and knobby knees, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a boy with such long eyelashes before. He was just a bit shorter than you, and with the growth spurt you had recently your mama was hopeful that you would present soon.

"So Elvis… you new to Memphis?" you would say, after a painfully long pause, waiting for him to say something else.

"Ye-ye-yes," he said, still trying to find the secrets to the universe in his shoes. You can’t exactly pinpoint why but in that moment, he reminded you of a wet puppy. One that's just pathetic enough that you want to pick it up and take it home to dry it off and give it a snack.

So that's exactly what you do and you throw an arm around his shoulder, “C’mon, Elvis,” you say as the sandy-haired boy blushes up a storm. “I’m gonna show you around these parts.”

You end up taking him to some of your favorite places around your neck of the woods, and finish this little impromptu trip with a stop off at the neighborhood drugstore, where you ask him what his favorite soda is, and he nearly has a heart attack when you grab one from the cooler and walk out without even attempting to pay for it. Annoyed but willing to humor the boy, you walk up to the counter and tell your daddy you were taking them for you and your friend. You could see the bit of pride in his eyes as you took rather than asking for what you wanted. Elvis meanwhile seemed to be in awe of you. Though he quickly goes beet red when you show him how to open a bottle with your teeth and hand it to him.

“Y’know you don’t stutter when you sing,” you say as the two of you were making your way to his place in the lauderdale courts. “Why’s that?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” he said solemnly, sipping on the Pepsi you gave him. “I gu-guess, it’s cuz I-I-I’m good at it… or I th-thought I wa-was.” he says sadly.

“You do sound good,” you say matter-of-factly, and it makes you feel warm as he lights up at the compliment. “Not everyone’s gonna think so, but you do.”

“But some of ‘em are gonna hate it?” he blanches at the thought.

“Yeah, but that’s just the way a things ain’t it?”

“I-I guess…”

“Elvis trust me on this,” you state, more sure of yourself than any twelve year old has a right to be. “If people don’t like how you sound, it’s on them to not listen, because there are plenty more people who will love it.” Simple piece of advice really, and not applicable to all situations you recognize now, but with the way you watched him hunching in on himself to look smaller only for him to walk straighter into his home, it looked like it’s what he needed to hear.

Elvis would return to music class the next day with his own guitar in hand and sing his little heart out in front of the entire class. Mrs. Whatsherface still didn’t approve, stating how she “didn’t like how he sounded.” But he in turn looked her right in the eye and told her what you had told him, and you had never been more proud of another person in your entire life.

“Well Mrs. Wilson, you don’t gotta listen.” he asserts, more confidence in him than you’ve seen in all the time you’ve known him.

Your friendship however was really solidified after that jerk that sat behind you in class, Leon, cut Elvis guitar strings as a “joke” he claimed. Seeing Elvis' heartbroken expression and knowing his family’s financial status, awoke some latent protective streak within you that had you dip into your meager savings for a record player to buy two things that night: guitar strings and gum.

The next day you would give Elvis the replacement strings before school would start as well as an ominous suggestion to watch you during study hall. And he would watch as you proceeded to stick a wad of gum in your own hair and proceed to flip over the table behind you and try to knock Leon’s lights out. Nobody ever really made that connection that it had anything to do with what he did to Elvis’ guitar. No, all anybody ever knew was just that Leon sat behind you and someone had put gum in your hair, and you swung first and asked questions later.

Elvis would watch in utter awe of you as the teacher escorted you and Leon out of the class by your ears, and you would wink at him as you passed by, but you think the sentiment of it was lost considering the eye you used was the one already swelling shut. Unbeknownst to you at the time, Elvis would return home that night and let his Mama know he found the girl he was gonna marry.

You saved Elvis the embarrassment of having to be defended by a girl, and the focus was solely on how Leon had gotten beaten up by one. You would even cleverly and cruelly dub him “The Cowardly Leon,” for the rest of the year, and only let it die out after you needed to start flying under the radar once you had presented.

You cared a lot about justice back then because that’s what your father instilled in you. In fact the first thing he said to you when he came to pick you up, was asking whether or not you won. God he was so proud of you for standing up for yourself, and he ended up taking you out for ice cream. In retrospect not the best thing to teach a kid, to handle conflict with physical violence. Back then it was seen as blooming Alpha behavior of play-acting at being territorial and rough-housing. But once you presented as a “Beta” that same behavior that was seen as charming, became deviant or atypical of how a proper beta should act.

That year was the last one of simplicity you would ever experience, as you were comfortable in what your future would look like. Your daddy's side of the family came from a long, unbroken line of Alphas, both male and female. And it only felt inevitable that you would present as one, and one day you would inherit your family drug store, you would settle down with a nice omega partner, have a couple kids, who would also be Alphas, pass it on to them, so on and so forth. With his ever present, yet endearing stutter and his unabashed love for his mama, you had thought Elvis would be such a partner. And the way you sometimes caught him looking at you at times, you didn't think he would be entirely opposed to it either.

You were an only child and your daddy did his best to teach you long before you were even close to presenting how an Alpha acts. Lessons to always be bold and aggressive. To take what you want and how to fight for what is yours. The benefits of remaining stoic, and relying only on yourself. How to essentially be the perfect Alpha.

Lessons that would ultimately be wasted on you, you would learn that summer after 8th grade. It was just supposed to be a nice ordinary trip to visit Nana up in Nashville. First day, you would be slightly uncomfortable and very tired, nothing cool refreshments and a nap couldn’t help. Day two you felt a lot warmer that wasn’t the least bit helped by Nana’s brand new Air Conditioner. Day three you would spend covering the windows with blankets in order to better curl up into a corner on your bed with pieces of clothing you had taken from your parents. Day four there was no more denying what was happening as you cried into mama’s lap, feeling oddly betrayed by your own body as you waited for all of it to pass.

Your daddy put you on suppressants the second you were all finished and were back in Memphis. He was the only one whose disappointment in your presentation matched your own. Mama tried her best to convince you it wasn’t so bad to be an Omega, but the words feel hollow as you overhear her insistence to daddy that she wasn’t too old to try and get it “right” this time with another baby.

Nothing felt real those summer days, and by the time newly presented Alpha, Elvis Presley, strolled into the store, you officially accepted that you were in some sort of upside down world. You didn’t even really see him at first, you were so used to seeing him at less than eye-level to you, that it didn’t register to you to look up, and find the previously waifish Elvis Presely having been replaced by a taller, broader -and dare you say it, handsome- young man before you.

Of all the people you knew, you thought Elvis would be the one that you would be able to tell, but as the light softly glints off his newly descended canines you knew that could never be.

There’s a part of you that wants to tell him. To admit to someone, who will undoubtedly accept you as you are, but you catch sight of your parents staying on opposite sides of the store. A painful reminder that nothing is ever a sure thing.

“My what big teeth you have,” you instead remark as you lean against the counter.

“Heya sweetheart,” he says, propping an elbow on to the counter, though not without some awkwardness as he catches your magazine and slides forward a little before catching himself.

“Sweetheart? What is that about?” You ask, acting dumb and hoping you’re wrong.

He grins even wider at that

“Oh yeah,” you say, trying to be as non-chalant as you possibly could be. You hook your pinky into the corner of your mouth to show him the normal canine you have. He perks up ever so slightly as he sees it, only to deflate once he hears your muffled “Beta.”

“O-oh… oh, ummm…” he stutters, unsure of what to say to you.

“Disappointed? So’s my daddy,” you say flippantly.

“N-no it ain’t that,” he stutters. “It’s just I-I… well I…”

“Was expecting something else?” you finish for him. “You and me both buddy,”

“...Y-yeah umm….” he says glancing down between you and the floor as though waiting for the sike.

“C’mon, don’t be upset for my sake, you’re an Alpha now, cream of the crop and all that,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too jealous. You hand him a Pepsi on the house and call for the next customer knowing you’re gonna have to be on inventory later so you’re daddy won’t notice it missing.

In short order by the start of your freshman year you would learn three awful things. First, that while the state of Tennessee’s single bond and marriage laws were still in place, they do make an exception for Alpha business owners who wish to pass down their legacy to an Alpha Child. Secondly, that your daddy was aware of this exception because he had done it once before, as you and your mama were his second attempt at an alpha child, after his first born son presented as an omega. Third, the reason you had a babysitter until you were fourteen, was because your daddy apparently needed a backup for his backup.

That is how you found yourself moving all of your belongings into the Lauderdale Courts, where you would find a familiar face. He was surprised to see you there, especially with the load of boxes behind you, but he wasn’t about to let your surly demeanor get in the way of him rolling out the welcome wagon for you and your Mama.

Elvis is not one to be ignored, and you find it amusing that he was now the one that more or less bullied you into doing things. And as loath as you are to admit it he more or less did become somewhat of a protector to you when Leon tried to get his licks back. It is a strange reversal, but not a wholly unwelcome one. You do at least try to find the comedy that is the tragedy of your life now.

Your mama was with you, but you could hardly say she was present anymore. The days she wasn’t drinking herself into a stupor, were the days she was cursing your father’s name and long-winded rants about how he stole the best years of her life. For all the passion and fury in her words, they were hollow, as instead of getting on suppressants to combat her heats, she instead went back to him every single time to take care of her. There would be times you would come home from school only to find your place empty, cash in an envelope on the table, nary a note in sight, and you would spend the week with a neighbor.

You try to justify it in your head with the fact that Mated Omegas could die if they go into heat without their Alpha, but that was exactly what suppressants were made for. They weren’t true mates so there should be no problem for her alone to break the bond, and yet like clockwork every three months she would be gone for the entire week, and wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes for about the next two weeks following that.

You hated those days when you would come back to the apartment only to find her missing, that ominous pink dot on the calendar, and some money left in an envelope for you to take care of yourself for the week. Gladys Presley didn’t even hesitate in offering you a place to stay so you wouldn’t be alone, but as welcoming and kind as the Presley’s were to you during those weeks you felt humiliated not only for having to rely on their hospitality, but also the reason why.

You knew where exactly she went. Everyone in the Lauderdale Courts- hell, everyone in Memphis- knew where she went, as those were the same weeks that your father and his new wife would disappear off the face of the Earth. All those pitiful looks and derisive snorts when you walked by felt the same, they said “oh look, there’s the little unwanted girl.” Your mother went from wife to glorified mistress in a matter of months, and people shaped their own opinions on you solely around that.

You got by though, especially after you were able to get a part time job in Sophmore year. Kitty LeBlanc is perhaps the most feared Alphas this side of Memphis. She and her wife, Jeanie, have been running the Cathouse Beauty Salon, for the last twenty or so years, the place to go when you’re looking to get done up for a date night or a divorce. It’s well known in these parts that any Omegas having trouble with their Alphas need only come to Kitty to get them to start doing right by them. So suffice to say, she was furious at what your daddy did to you, and the only thing stopping her from launching a full scale whisper campaign against your daddy’s store, is that you and your mama were still financially dependent on him and so didn’t want to leave him completely destitute.

But you also had the underlying reason that you needed him to stay open so you could still get the suppressants you needed. They were created way back when during war times, to prevent mated omegas from dying due to their Alphas being gone so long, and nowadays they are only prescribed to mated Omegas under the most extreme of circumstances. Legally you’re not supposed to be on them whatsoever, but while normally your father being a pharmacist had few perks, this was absolutely one of them.

It’s bad enough he’s known for having more or less abandoned an Omega Partner, but it would have absolutely devastated him, socially and legally, if it had gotten out that he had abandoned not one but two Omega children of his. So rather than having that be his reputation he made everyone believe that you in fact were a Beta. And you’re fine with this, because you already push it by acting like an Alpha when you’re known as a Beta, you doubt you’ll be tolerated anymore if it comes out that you’re an Omega.

Kitty would respect your choice and instead offered you a job, mostly sweeping the floors and taking out the trash after school, for a little extra cash on the side. That’s where your interest in makeup first began, seeing how someone could be having the worst day of their lives, but their appearance exhibiting none of that.

“Think of it like a mask,” Kitty would explain to you as you attempted eyeliner for the first time. “You’re only showing the world what you want them to see.”

High school was a bit of a blur, and before you know it you’re in your Senior year. Prom was something you had been looking forward to. You had saved up all your money from the Cathouse to buy a beautiful red dress, had been asked out by a nice Beta boy from your art class, and Kitty promised you the full salon treatment for such a special occasion. Really everything was looking up with the only hitch being how weird Elvis had gotten when you told him about your plans for the evening.

After the talent show (where you almost resorted to pushing him onto the stage), Elvis certainly wasn’t without options, but he still insisted on going Stag with you and the rest of your friends for Prom. Those plans didn’t change with your news but he clearly seemed to have become grumpier as of late.

But you didn’t pay it any mind, as afterall the shit you’d been through up until that point, was one night really too much to ask for. Evidently it was, because as you were getting into David’s car, you realized you had forgotten the evening gloves your mama was letting you borrow, and you ran back into the building only to be met with your mother with a suitcase in hand as she set down an envelope on the small dining table.

You vividly remember how she would look up at you with only the slightest hint of guilt in her eyes, before her expression steels itself with a calm demeanor, as she gives you a cool smile, places the envelope in your hand with a friendly pat, and then she walked out the door without even a glance back.

You would never see her again.

To My Darling Daughter,

I’m sorry for what I have to do, but you must understand that while this is a choice, it’s not an easy one.

If you can take comfort in anything, know that it is your strength and resiliency and seeing you as bold as you are for what you are has inspired me to take control of my own life. I’ve met a Beta man who has promised me a better life away from this place. My only regret is that I can’t bring you with me.

But I know for a fact that you, unlike me, can and will survive on your own.

I Love You So Much,

Mama

You had to read her letter several times, not fully believing the words before you. You recognize that there was a part of you that had wanted this for years. For her to run far and fast from your father, but you had just always assumed she would’ve taken you as well.

You hardly have time to process that as you hear David’s horn honking out at the front. No, instead of sitting with your feelings about the matter, you fix your makeup, grab the gloves, and walk out to the powder blue chevy. After David offers whatever was in the flask he swiped from his daddy, the entire dance turns into a haze, with the only evidence that you were even there being the commemorative photo and the blisters you feel forming on your feet.

“Say Y/N, my folks are outta town this weekend.” David says idly as you’re walking out of the school gymnasium.

“That’s nice,” you slur, not really having heard a word he said, trying hard not to fall on your face as you stumble in your kitten heels.

“So why don’t we head back to my place?” He asks practically buzzing with anticipation.

“Sure fine,” you sigh apathetically, understanding what he’s implying, and going mostly because the prospect of going back to an empty apartment is far more terrifying to you.

You can see the excitement on the Beta boy's face grow until he looks past you and you watch as the blood-drains from his face. “There you are Y/N,” you hear from a strained yet distinct voice behind you. You turn around only to see Elvis’ icy blue eyes somehow burning holes into your date, as he says through gritted teeth. “Your mama made me promise to get you home early.”

You can hardly be faulted for your almost knee-jerk reaction at Elvis’ blatant- well to you-lie: you burst into a near hysterical fit of laughter, to the point tears are streaming down your face. You laugh a little too hard and a little too long at a joke neither boy seems to understand, that David, by the time you’re mostly done, is long gone. It doesn’t matter though, because in your drunken state your thoughts turn to how embarrassed Elvis is going to be when he takes you home and realizes he got caught in a lie, because you don’t have a Mama anymore.

As you’re stumbling to Elvis’ car, he stops you in your tracks, “Y/N, you alright there?” he breathes and you see his nose flares for a moment, no doubt smelling whatever the hell was in that flask. “What did he do?” He hisses, with murder in his eyes.

“Oh dontcha worry about ole’ Davey over there,” you dismiss, as you grip onto one of his forearms to keep yourself standing (when did they get so big?). “How ‘boutchu take me back home because… I. Gotta. Surprise. For. You.” You say, punctuating your last few words, tapping his nose each time. You can see his eyes widen and his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows nervously, before he quietly agrees.

He gets you back into his daddy’s car seemingly content to have gotten you away from your date, until you’re on the road, and in a fit of… grief… madness… something, you open the window and let one of the evening gloves your mother had let you borrow fly out into the night.

“Ain’t those your mama’s?” He asks, slightly perturbed at your seeming indifference, when you’re usually so careful with your clothes.

“Mmm-hmm,” you hum as you let its twin also fly out. The rest of the ride back to the Lauderdale Courts was filled with a thick silence, as you were upset, and Elvis could tell you were upset, yet neither one of you knew how to address it, so you both remained quiet.

Elvis gets you into the building and in repayment for his act of chivalry, you didn’t vomit all over his rented suit. No, instead you bolt into your apartment, that you had left unlocked for your mama without another word. After brushing the taste of bile and fruit punch out of your mouth, you would find him sitting on your couch with that damn letter in his hands.

It is at that moment where you enter and you see the heartbreak and pity in his eyes for you, did you finally recognize that this wasn’t as funny as you thought it would be. No, in fact it leaves you with a hollow feeling inside of you, seeing him that way, but instead of dealing with that you choose to laugh at the situation.

You laugh because otherwise you’ll cry.

“Tell me Presley,” you joke with him. “You make it a habit of reading through other people’s mail?”

“Y/N, I-I’m so sorry, I had no idea,” he would say, tears welling in his eyes for you.

“Well we got that in common,” you say, wishing to be numb to the whole world by this point.

“I-I just don’t understand wh-why she would do somethin’ like this,” he states, genuinely unbelieving that a mother could do something like this. You’re confused for a different reason, as you can’t quite find the logic in leaving you behind when she was so close to being able to do so legally after you had graduated.

Guess she just wanted out that bad.

“Oh I know why,” you stated as you threw off your shoes and tossed your legs over his lap. “I’m unlovable,” you say flippantly, while shrugging your shoulders. You weren’t seeking his pity nor his comfort. In your mind you were simply stating a fact. The same way you would state that the sky is blue or that water is wet, Y/N is unlovable. How could you not be, as both people that were all but hard-wired to do so, want nothing to do with you?

You see so many emotions pass through his face at your statement. Until he throws his arms around you and brings you as close as possible to him. “You’re not unlovable,” he declares.

“No I am,” you say, resolved to your fate. “I just need to accept that.”

“You’re not unlovable, Y/N,” he blubbers a bit, tears in his eyes, holding your face in his hands. “Because I lo-”

You quickly slap your hand over his mouth, shushing him, truly not wanting to hear the next words to come out. You’re not an idiot, you remember the way he would look at you before either of you presented, it’s the same way he looks at you now, when he thinks you’re not paying attention. But you know, as did he you suspect, that if either one of you were to ever verbally acknowledge it, everything would be ruined.

It’s not like you haven’t thought about it before. Nothing would be wrong considering you are actually an Omega, and anybody would tell you being close friends with an Alpha would eventually lead to this. But one thing throws a wrench into this idea: the fact that the thought of being bonded to an Alpha, even Elvis, terrifies you to your core.

You’ve seen how wrong those relationships could go, what happens to the omega and how the Alpha could get out scott free. You know yourself well enough to recognize that you are far too willful and bold to make for a good wife for an Alpha when most would prefer a more demure, submissive mate. Add in how apparently easy you are to leave behind, you doubt your odds of having the ideal life for an Omega look too good.

In your quieter moments you would wonder who you were supposed to be. If you hadn’t been raised with the expectation that you were going to be an Alpha would you have actually exhibited the traits that go with being an Omega. Or would you have still ended up the same way? Neither scenario fills you with comfort.

You try not to dwell on these thoughts too long, as afterall, as far as Elvis knows, being with you like that is impossible. Besides you and Elvis have a good thing going on right now and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

You’ll later blame the alcohol for what had happened next, as you sat next to him, doing your best to stop crying, in spite of your feelings of being unwanted and unloved. But you’re somewhat comforted by Elvis being so close to you, and you liken your next actions as some latent part of your omega brain trying to compensate for your crippling loneliness that night by trying to start something with the nearest Alpha, who just so happened to be your best friend.

Your face buried in his neck, you could feel yourself steady the longer you breathed in his heady scent of leather and rose water, disparate yet no less intoxicating, all tied to something uniquely him. Something you had never really noticed before, given that the suppressants did a good job of dampening your smell capabilities, but being so close to him now, you begin to understand why the other omegas would get giddy moments before he walked into a room.

You remember just every breath filling you with a sense of comfort and warmth, and simply wanting to be as close to its source as possible. His scent reminded you of burrowing yourself in warm blankets on a cold morning or taking the first sip of hot cocoa on a frigid night, that feeling of being so comfortable in your discomfort that you don’t even recognize what it was until you felt the slightest bit of relief from it.

Wanting to further immerse yourself in that scent, you find yourself quickly going from leaning on him, to full-on straddling him, all so that you could better nuzzle your face into his neck. Though from the rumbling in his chest he didn’t seem to mind your invasion of his space too much. In fact he had followed suit by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose into your neck.

Though his discontented snarls tell you he’s apparently having a hard time. As a “Beta” you hardly even register as an option for him, the suppressants apparently making your scent so subtle, you’re about as appealing as a houseplant to him. You on the other hand were practically getting drunk on what little scent was making its way through to you.

So drunk were you in fact that you didn’t realize what you were doing with your hips until he let out a strained groan that reverberated back onto your neck. You don’t exactly know where your head was at, you just remember that he smelled so good and felt even better against your burning core, which is why you felt little shame as you continued to grind into him, the salacious act being hidden from your view by your skirt.

Your eyes meet his and you’re not exactly sure who leans in first, just that somebody did. But almost like magic, that tentative and nervous brushing of your lips against his, broke you from your spell, and made you realize what exactly you were doing.

You tear yourself away from him, nearly cracking your head on the low table as you land on your rear in front of the couch. Horrifyingly you’re now put at eye-level with his legs where you see something tenting the front of his pants. You take advantage of his utterly bell-rung state as you would pathetically crawl away from him and into your own tiny bedroom, to get away from this confusing and frankly terrifying situation.

There’s no lock to speak of so you block the door with your own body, crying into your hands, praying that he sees himself out, though like usual your wishes go unheard.

“Y/N?” You hear from the last person you want to deal with, knock at your door. His voice quivering as though he’s close to tears.

You sob harder.

“Y/N, I’m beggin’ ya here. Please talk to me,” he says, sounding genuinely distraught.

“Go away, Elvis!” You beg through your blubbering. This back and forth continues for a while until your stubborn nature prevails, and you’re left alone.

And all is right in the world.

You would wake up with a god-awful crick in your neck, and feeling unpleasantly feverish beyond belief. You quickly take your suppressants as you have done religiously since you had started on them, and you would spend the day barricaded in your room waiting for your fever to cool down.

Come Monday, Elvis wouldn’t be in school, and in spite of the fact he was the last person you wanted to see, you were given the task of passing along his school work to him. You were no stranger within the Presley household, oftentimes spending the weeks your mother was in heat with them, as Gladys couldn’t stand the thought of you all alone in that apartment. So it was surprising to say the least when she was the one to bar you from entering the door.

“Sweetheart,” she sighs, looking tiredly between you and the apartment behind her. “Elvis is umm… a bit… sick, and he won’t be fit for seein’ for… a few more days.” The blush on her face and the embarrassment in her voice tell you exactly what exactly is happening to him. You quickly dismiss yourself back to your empty apartment.

Well that at least explained why he let you do… that. He was a young Alpha going into his first Rut, he probably would have done the same with a box of cracker jacks if it promised him a good time. It meant nothing, so you were going to treat it like that.

It made more sense than the alternative of your “mini-heat” sending him into a rut. Afterall everybody knows that only true mates are capable of doing that. Most mated couples take a few cycles in order to sync up properly, while in contrast true mates can almost immediately trigger the other's time just by being in the same vicinity while going through theirs. You’ve also heard rumors of something else happening with those couples, but you’ve never bothered to dive too deep into that, and all you know is that it had something to do with how they almost always get pregnant during their first cycle.

True Mates are just rare enough to be special, but happen frequently enough that everybody at least knows one pair. It felt like every single Omega you met dreamed of finding their true mate regardless of how unlikely it is to happen. It also had all the hallmarks of being devastatingly romantic, with the idea that these are the only bonds that are truly unbreakable and that both parties could potentially die without the other, rather than just the Omega.

In theory it should sate your worries about being left by an Alpha, but it does little to help, as the idea scares the shit out of you. The idea that regardless of your own wishes to never be mated to an alpha, some force has apparently fated you to be with someone. Add to the fact that they have yet to make suppressants sufficiently strong enough to quell an omega with a true mate because apparently the bond is that strong, and all you see is a disaster waiting to happen.

You spend the next week trying to figure out the logistics of living on your own. You know Graduation is roughly a month away and without your mother to renew the lease or your father not willing to pay past his legal obligation, you’re going to be homeless. You can chance it with the foster system you suppose if you declare yourself an unaccompanied Omega, but more than likely they’ll send you back with your father, and he’ll more than likely hock you off to the first Alpha that gives you a second glance.

By the end of the week you’ve accepted that your best option for the time being is hoping that Kitty is kind enough to allow you to stay in the storage closet while you get your full salon training. If you sell everything in the apartment and by the time you're making full salary you may just be able to afford a room in a girl’s boarding house. That is until Gladys Presley, after three days of you dancing around the question of “Where’s your Mama, sweetheart?” finally sat you down and refused to hear any more excuses, and you had to quietly admit how you didn’t know.

Gladys is surely a force to be reckoned with as within an hour of your solemn confession she has you at her table with a warm meal, her couch already set up, and the landlord agreeing to forward you the last two months of payment your father is supposed to pay for rent. But what she can’t fix is the fact that you are suspiciously not making eye contact with Elvis.

You had insisted on making yourself useful and helped Gladys clean up afterwards, but once she and Vernon called it a night, you knew there was no getting around it anymore. At around midnight do you hear Elvis shuffle into the living room, clearly hesitant to have this conversation as well.

“You up?”

“No.”

That gets a short huff out of him before he plants himself on the opposite side of the couch as you, essentially sitting on your feet. The room is too dark to really see him, but the slight shaking in his leg and constant shifting tell you he’s just as uncomfortable as you are.

“Elvis about Prom ni-”

“Are you really a Beta?” he cuts you off.

In spite of the darkness within the room, you still try to school your expression to one of confusion rather than shock. “What kind of question is that?” you say, managing to sound tiredly exasperated with him, while your heart is going a mile a minute. “Of course I’m a Beta, why’d ya think I wasn’t?”

“It’s just…” he pauses. “That night-”

“The night nothing happened.”

“Y/N,” he says severely, a tone he has never in his life used with you. “I need an honest answer here.”

You think about your next words carefully. As far as you know Alpha’s can’t literally sniff out lies, nor do you have any reason to believe he can hear some sort of minute difference between a lie and a truth.

For a brief moment you contemplate being totally honest with him, but you quickly dismiss that notion when you shift slightly and feel the hard edge of the couch armrest. Your situation is far too precarious to risk it on a gamble that he may want you, when if anything this past month has proven how unwanted you are.

“Elvis… you’re my best friend,” you state, as this much is true. “Do you really think I would lie to you about something like this?” you say, too cowardly to lie through your teeth and say no, instead you put it on him as to whether he believes you would do such a thing to your best friend.

He sighs in defeat, believing you wouldn’t invoke your relationship on a lie this big. “No… No, you’re right,” though you can hear the slightest quiver in his voice. “It-it’s just bad luck, that all that happened in the same night.”

“Exactly,” you say relieved that he came to the same conclusion that you did about that night. “E, I-I didn’t get a chance to say this yet but… thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking me in,” you sigh, not a fan of the coy act.

“It was nothin’ Darlin’,” he says though you can hear him relax a bit at that. “Mama wasn’t ‘bouta let that stand.”

“Well then thanks for nothing Presley,” you say with a grin.

He laughs at that, and says “C’mere you,” as he brings you in close for a hug. You do notice as he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, and pointedly takes an extra long whiff of your neck. He’s undoubtedly trying one last ditch effort to prove his theory right only to find nothing.

“But I hope you can accept that I’m your mama’s favorite now,” you say as seriously as you could to break the tension, in an effort to ignore what he just did.

He pauses at that before pushing your face back into the pillow and saying around a smile, “alright, go back to sleep, you.”

Those months following your graduation, there was something so simple about those days, almost idyllic, in an odd way. You would be the first up in the household, so it was on you to push Elvis out of bed, take care of breakfast and lunch for the both of you. He would drive you to work in his company truck listening to the early morning radio and you would muse that it would only be a matter of time before the two of you would be hearing him. He would always get red in the ears at that and drop you off at the salon. He would occasionally drop in for lunch and afterwards the two of you would hit up Beale street for a while before heading home. Have dinner with his folks, go to bed, repeat all of that the next day.

You would often practice your makeup skills on him when Gladys was unavailable, giving you a better understanding as to how to not only put makeup on someone else, but how to also highlight a person’s best features. And working so close on him, did you realize that Elvis had many. In return for your “experimentation,” you would go to every single performance of his as support which evolved into doing makeup for him. Oftentimes you’re the last person he talks to before he gets on stage, as you would often help him clean himself up when he got too in his head about the whole thing, but also the first one to greet him once he got off the stage.

Though as the years went on and performing became more routine, and you find yourself in the midst of show business alongside him. Traveling the country and working on movie sets are never things you ever expected to happen, even in the days when you had your life set out before you.

Those days seem so far away now, as though they were a dream of a different life. But now you were in a new era, the “New Elvis” era, which would be one of the worst you ever had the displeasure of witnessing. It was like watching a Peacock be plucked and be told to still be just as eye-catching, and you let the Colonel know as much. You thought it was bad enough having to see him dressed in tails, but you knew the disaster that was headed your way the moment you saw that damn dog being rolled on stage with him.

When they moved into Graceland, the Presley’s took you along with them, and even tried to offer you a room on the top floor, the one specifically designated for family. It was one of the few times you and the Colonel were on the same page about… anything really, as you were vehemently against the initial room he offered you and instead took a moderately sized room on the first floor. You did this as you know that keeping some distance between you and them will make it hurt a lot less when they inevitably drop you.

Elvis Presley being in your bed is not an unusual experience, something you had gotten used to way back when your bed was the Presley’s couch, and he made it a habit of letting himself in as he pleased in your room at Graceland. So you hardly blink when you wake up to him laying next to you in the middle of the night. Or rather you do several times in order to get all the sleep out of your eyes and try to get a grip of your bearings as you suddenly awaken to a bed full of rockstar.

You had watched him storm out earlier, all passion and fury at the world that wants different and contradictory things from him all at once. Now all that fire has seemingly been extinguished as he lies next to you hands on his stomach, voice quiet and unsure of himself as he asks “You awake Y/N?” imperceptible through the non-existent lighting in the room.

“No.”

He huffs at you, and you can almost hear the smile on his lips, before the room turns solemn once more. And you give a big tear-welling yawn, but you’re still willing to help him through his identity crisis.

“Sweetheart, be honest with me,” he says into the inky darkness. “This ‘New Elvis” thing… ya’ think it’s a mistake?”

“Yes” you answer without missing a beat. You were never one to mince words for him and you’re not about to start now. “Now answer me this: is your name Frank?”

“No,” he answers confused.

“Is your name Bill?”

“No.”

“Is your name Buddy?”

“Y/N, what the hell are ya gettin’ at?”

“What I’m getting at is if they wanted a old crooner in a boring suit, they woulda gotten Frank Sinatra. They wanted clean sanitized rock n’ roll, they woulda gotten Bill Haley. If they had wanted someone popular but not so controversial, they woulda gotten Buddy Holly.” You say, impassioned as you are sleepy, hoping you’re making even a lick of sense to him. “They didn’t get any of them. But you know who they asked to be there?”

“Me?”

“Who?”

He chuckles before saying, “Elvis Presley.”

“That’s right,” you say, poking his chest. “They want you E, controversy and all, because you know what, ain’t nobody better at getting asses in seats and panties on the floor.”

“Y/N!” he exclaims, scandalized and, you can just imagine, red in the face.

“It’s true though,” you continue. “Being controversial these days hardly makes a difference anymore.”

“How’d ya figure that?”

“Elvis…” you say solemnly. “To my face people shake their heads and click their tongues as to what my daddy did to me and my mama. That doesn’t stop them from patronizing his store and giving him their money to better support his new family.” You feel him give a comforting rub on your shoulder. “Look what I’m trying to say is that, when what you give is good enough, people will overlook just about everything else. And trust me what you sell… sells.” You pause when you feel something hard beside your feet. “Are you wearing your shoes in my bed?”

“...maybe?”

“Get outta here weirdo,” you huff annoyed at his antics, and use all of your might to push him out.

“Alright, alright,” he says, acquiescing and getting out of your bed. “Guess I’ll head to that diner you love all by myself.” You can almost hear the smirk when his statement gets the pause he was looking for.

“You’re a cruel, cruel man Elvis Presley,” you declare. “Give me 20 minutes.”

The next day at Russwood Park, you’re putting the final touches on him before he gets on stage. You can still see the tiniest bit of conflict still on his face so you tickle his nose with your makeup brush to get his attention. “Remember. They don’t like how it sounds…” you trail off.

“They don’t gotta listen.” he finishes, apparently remembering your bit of 12 year old wisdom. Once he got on stage, he would take your advice, but the next time he would crawl back into your bed would be the night he got his draft notice.

None of you were exactly surprised, as everybody had known to expect it sooner rather than later, especially given that Elvis had slowly and steadily become one of the most controversial singers in the country. However the days immediately following it were some of the bleakest you’ve ever experienced.

With The Colonel’s whole rebranding spiel, and how much trouble he got in after Russwood Park, the fresh start idea isn’t terrible at this point, but you wish you could have gotten out easier. As cold as it sounds to say, you now saw the writing on the wall. You’re fully aware of the fact that, of his crew, his make-up girl is on the lowest of priorities. Regardless of how fond he is of you, he is undoubtedly about to be put under a microscope and whether he realizes it or not, he’s about to embark on a new chapter of his life, a chapter that more than likely doesn’t include you.

You want to do your best to put on a brave face for him, the last thing you want to do is add to his stress. And besides it isn’t like you ever truly believed that this was in any way permanent. As life had taught you that nothing is permanent, so why would living with the Presley’s be any different?

It’s just a hard fact of your life that people inevitably get tired of you, and you get left behind for something better. As fun as it’s been with Elvis and his family, never once did you trick yourself into believing that this is how it would be forever. Maybe in those simpler days of practicing makeup on him in the bathroom and lunches in the bed of his company pick up truck… maybe. But as Elvis’ star burned brighter, you were snapped back to reality at how temporary and tenuous your situation was. The same way Elvis outgrew Lauderdale courts, he would outgrow you.

What would he even need his make-up girl for while he’s deployed? The Colonel made it clear he’s not to perform while he’s enlisted, and you doubt wearing makeup will do him any favors in the barracks. And besides, Omegas are unable to even get a passport in Tennessee without explicit permission from their designated Alpha, who in your case, would still be your father.

The father whom you interact with very little these days, the last time being almost a year ago and that was simply to stock up on a year's worth of suppressants. Your father whose business is not seeing as many customers these days because as far as Kitty knows, you don’t need anything from him any more.

Bright side of this is that at the very least you’re not without options this time around. Kitty had made it loud and clear that you’ll always have a place at the Cathouse, and hell you have enough savings to see you through the next few years in Memphis if you simply wanted to wait out his time in the army. But neither seemed appealing to you, as either way your future would still rely on others' good will.

When Elvis had started making movies, of course he dragged you along for the ride up there. You were still the only one he trusted to do his makeup and as a result the studio ended up giving you a crash course as to how to do movie makeup, which you learned was a completely different beast to stage makeup, as you now had to toe the fine line of subtlety. Regardless of all that you did end up making a pretty important discovery, in regard to potential future prospects for yourself. You learned that in the movie making business, Betas are like gold in Hollywood especially for the more practical and technical parts of movie making. This is all due in part to the fact of their overall lack of appeal to Alpha actors, as well as not being as distracting for Omega ones either, not to mention they are far more reliable as they don’t have to worry about pesky heats or ruts.

You also learned that up in Hollywood, you could get access to suppressants about as easily as you could get your hands on a packet of M&M’s, as unlike in Tennessee you didn’t need to be mated in order to gain access to them. As a result, you discovered there were more than a few behind the scenes hands who were also Omegas that masqueraded as Betas in order to get work on the sets, doing wonders to make you feel less out of place there.

Janet, the head of the make-up department Paramount, was initially reluctant to have you aboard but was nonetheless impressed with your ability to pick up the craft as quickly as you did. You had kept her phone number from way back when and decided that now would be a good time to take her up on that job offer. She was ecstatic to bring you onboard but the hiring process being what it is you still technically need to be recommended by former employers.

“You sure I can’t sway you to come back here,” Kitty says as she’s signing the bottom of the letter. The sentimental part of yourself that you had believed you had smothered long ago is screaming yes in your head, not wanting to leave everything you ever knew in Memphis, but the pragmatic part of you knew that your days here are numbered.

You want to be able to bury yourself in her chest and tell her how she’s been like a parent to you all these years. To thank her for all the years she’s cared for you in whatever way she could, taught you your trade that has proven invaluable, steered you in the right direction. But all of that feels too final for your liking, and instead you remark “Unless you got a rich Beta man in the back, then no dice,” all the while giving a casual shrug.

“Well at least you ain’t followin’ that good for nothin’ boy across the world,” she sighs in relief. Kitty was not a fan of Elvis, she made no secret about it, less so when you turned in your resignation to be his makeup assistant for the Louisiana Hayride. Your best guess as to the animosity is how eerily similar they are when you really pay attention. The same way Kitty could give a single look to any fellow Alpha she had ever met, and make them act right, Elvis could do the same, except make them act however he liked. They’re the type of people that just magnetically attract those around them.

But you also think that it is also on the principle that she dislikes any and all partners her children bring around… Which is ridiculous because everybody knows it’s impossible.

You decide not to waste the trip into town and start heading toward your least favorite place in Memphis. You only make this trip once a year anymore, and you’re hoping to make this as quick and painless as possible. But as the little shop below your old home comes into view, do you recognize what a tall order that is.

“What in the hell is this?” your father seethes as you approach the counter, throwing down a newspaper before you. You see yourself wide-eyed looking into a camera with Elvis leading you by the hand into the car after Russwood Park. The draft notice had left the paper's tongues wagging and apparently of all the photos of him that have been printed, it was just your luck that this one was apparently the one most worthy of being reprinted.

Rather than react with the same guilt or shame that any normal Omega would have when confronted by their father as to why they were seen with perhaps the most controversial Alpha in America, you idly pick up and open a candy bar that was sitting at the front.

“A newspaper,” you say with a mouthful of Baby Ruth. “Can I have what I came here for now?” He throws the pages at you, but if you learned anything from him, it is that flinching earns you nothing but letting the other person know you’re scared of them.

“Don’t be cute with me girl,” he spits that last part as though you were a stranger and not his daughter. “Why the hell do I find out like this you’re living with that boy?”

“You didn’t care a single goddamn bit where I was livin’ before, why’s it matter now?”

“It matters because what you’ve been doin’ makes me look like a bad father lettin’ my own daughter run around with that… that…” he says snapping his fingers, searching for the right word.

“Degenerate?” you finish for him, as it is the most common insult you’ve lobbed Elvis’ way.

“Don’t interrupt me,” he seethes, a rumble emanating from his chest, but after being surrounded by the likes of Elvis and Kitty, this does absolutely nothing for you, and you wonder how anybody has ever been intimidated by this man.

“Well good news, the only reason you look like a bad father, is because you are a bad father,” you tell him with a smile on your face. “No one thinks of you enough to bother telling lies about you.”

“Outta the kindness of my heart, I been footin’ the bill for these,” he holds up the bag for emphasis. “Only to find out you've been holdin’ out on me.”

“Mmm-hmm, of course that’s what this is about,” a smirk on your face, figuring ou what has got him so worked up. “Why you so worried about money? Saving up for your next attempt at an Alpha kid that’s not gonna happen?”

“Don’t think I don’t know about you and that vicious bitch of a woman, you been costin’ me more money than what these pills are worth for years,” he spits.

“Pills you put me on,” you accuse. The argument ceases almost immediately when you hear the tell-tale ring of the bell at the front of the shop.

“You gonna pay me what I’m owed, or no?”

You want to refuse on principle alone, but you’re so close to being free from all of it, so you don't want to risk it so soon. But you know the kind of trouble something like that could dredge up for you specifically. So it’s with a heavy heart that you agree to pay for them once you get paid for the next movie.

But if your father is good at one thing, it’s believing in his own myth of being the big tough, and in charge Alpha. That you as an Omega will have no choice but to obey his will, even as he hands over the very tool that negates his influence over you.

You have no intention of ever paying him a single goddamn cent of any of it. You’re only on them because of him, and if he wants to scream and holler about how you owe him money, but he won’t be able to do a damn thing, lest he out himself as well.

Besides, you'll be long gone by the time he wises up to the fact that you won’t be paying.

Now there’s only one more letter you need, and it’s not as easy as you would have hoped for. After getting your medicine, you take a few days to really pluck up the courage to do so. He’s been a lot testier these last few days, as was to be expected considering the circumstances.

If all goes well you’ll be able to work on this final movie together with him, before you part ways, and leave with the crew back to California. If not… well you’ll probably just start making your trip far earlier than expected.

You find him in the upstairs office, looking through mail, a stony expression on his face, but it lightens considerably when he sees you with the food Gladys has sent you up with. Well, more like you insisted on taking it up as you’ve been hoping to catch him in a good mood, as there are few things on this Earth that put him in a better one than his mama’s cooking.

“Sorry to bother you E,”

“Ain’t no bother,” he insists, moving some papers out of view to make way for the dish. “I’m tryin’ to get a head count for how big a house I need on base in Texas.”

“How many you at now?”

“Including you? 7,” he says casually, taking a bite out of his food.

“Why would you include me?” You say genuinely confused.

He pauses at that, positively shocked by your response, until a grins splits his face and he gives a short huff of a laugh. “You almost had me there, Y/N,” he chuckles at your apparent antics, settling back into his affable disposition.

You swallow nervously at that, “That’s actually kinda what I came to talk to you about. I-I got offered a job from Paramount out west to work for them, but they’re saying I nee-”

“Jokes over,” he declares, his smile dropping a little, bypassing what you were trying to say. “You got me, alright?”

“... Not alright, Elvis,” you state trying to get your point across. “I’m trying to tell you I’m getting another jo-”

“Y/N,” he says, cutting off your plea, the look in his eyes familiar, but you’ve never had the misfortune of it being directed at you. “Quit the jokin’ now,” he says, his tone severe which you do not care for one bit, but you have to tread lightly if you want to get his sign off.

“I’m serious Elvis… this… this probably isn’t the best time,” you sigh, for once in your life trying to be careful with your words. “Th-the studio needs letters from former bosses to know that I can do the job, an-and I was hoping you could write one for me.”

The tension hangs thick between the two of you once you are finally able to make your point. You swallow nervously but you don’t sway and inch as he stands from his desk.

“If this is a ploy to get a raise,” he said coldly. “You win Y/N, I’ll pay ye’ whatcha want?”

“No Elvis…” you sigh, trying to keep a cap on your frustration. “You’re not listening. I’ve got a new job lined up in Hollywood, I just need you to write a letter for them telling you I can..” you trail off seeing the expression of fury in his face.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now Y/N!?!?”

“I think we’ve established that I’m not joking right now,” you say bitingly, your hatred of being yelled at overriding all other things.

“So what… you’re gonna leave me high and dry when I need ya’ the most!?” He says, something akin to heartbreak painting his features.

“Why do you gotta say it like that? Like I’m breaking up with you?” you argue, not liking how he’s making this a bigger deal than it is. “It ain’t like you’re gonna need a make-up girl while you’re doing drills.”

“But I’m gonna need you!” He asserts, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Oh don’t be like that,” you tell him, literally shrugging him off. “It’s not like I’m gonna be able to live on base with you.

“Then we don’t gotta live on base.” he waves away, as though it were that simple.

“Elvis… I don’t wanna go with you,” you say simply leaving it at that leaving no room for him to argue the logistics of it. It hurts but you know you gotta get out now while the getting is good, because if you wait any longer, he’ll be the one that leaves first and that will be all the worse. For the first time in your life, you want to be the one that walks away on your own terms. “E, I-I gotta go where the work is,” you try to justify.

“So that’s it ain’t it,” he says, his pursed lips turning into a frown. “this was all just a job to you and you’re leaving cuz there ain’t one no more?” he shakes his head at you, disappointment evident on his face.

That… that cuts deep. That he can reduce not only his role in your life like that without guilt, as though you’ve been playing the longest con in history, when you first decided to defend a scrawny 12 year old from his nay-saying music teacher.

“Yes Elvis, if that’s what you want to hear,” you say without a hint of hesitation, willing your tears not to fall now of all times. “This has all just one big job for me, has been since the very beginning. Now there ain’t no job to have and I gotta fucking move on with my life because I don’t fucking need you anymore!” It doesn’t feel great as it leaves your mouth, and the angry tears streaming down your face prove it.

Nor does it get any better when you watch him stagger a bit at that, as though he had just been shot, even taking a hold of the corner of his desk for full effect. A million emotions pass through his face in seconds until he eventually lands on pure unadulterated fury. “Get out! I don’t wanna fuckin’ look at you right now!” he shouts dismissing you, his hands shaking as though itching to wring your neck.

“You got it Boss,” you say bitingly while giving a sarcastic curtsey, to which you turn around and walk out of the room, paying no mind to the destructive sounds coming from behind you. In spite of the biting cold outside your rage is keeping you warm as you pace back and forth along the back patio, trying to figure out your next move.

You’ve had your fights with Elvis before, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen so upset past the point of not wanting to talk with you. Even the biggest blow out between the two of you was exactly that, when he had walked in on you with that Beta who served cotton candy.

“Well now you know what I’d do for cotton candy,” you tried to joke after they had left, but Elvis proceeded to scream in your face, asking how dare you do something like this to him. You’d seen his territorial side before, as you’re not stupid enough to actually believe there isn’t anything behind all the times he’d casually pick you up and take you away when you happened to be talking to some Beta. But you did not care for being screamed at whatsoever, so you packed your things and proceeded to walk to the nearest bus station. You proved yourself to be far more stubborn than him, as you walked down the road, ignoring his demands that you get into the car as it crawled at a near snail’s pace to keep up with you, and talk you out of going back to Memphis.

As the cars lined up and started honking, you refused him still, even his threats to throw you into the trunk if need be, you didn’t falter. It wouldn’t be any sweat for him to do so, what with that crazy alpha strength of his, but you both knew that would hardly be the end of it if he resorted to that. Finally as the bus terminal got within view did he finally crack and promised to never yell at you like that again.

“You drive me up the goddamn wall, Y/N,” he says, rubbing his eyes.

“You love it,” you declared, glad to finally be able to rest your feet, having picked the worst shoes to walk in.

“Yeah… I do,” he sighs and looks over at you from the driver's side. There is a bit of an awkward pause as you find your faces much closer than you remembered and he glances down at your lips.

“God, I’m starving. I don’t know about you,” you quickly say, turning your torso fully around to look out your window, trying to break the tension. “But I could go for a bite and I think I saw a diner up ahead.”

You hear him clear his throat, as he hoarsely replies with a simple “Yeah.” By the time the two of you returned to the motel, you’re the best of friends once more, and neither of you ever mentioned that awkward bit again.

You had hoped after all this time he would’ve let go of that weird possessiveness he has over you. With all the girls that he could have, why do you matter to him so much? You know you’re good with makeup, but you know so are many other girls. And he is capable of opening up to them as he does with you if only he ever got his head out of his ass.

Christmas Eve, Gladys spends the day cooking up a storm, roping in you and Dodger, determined to make this the best Christmas yet. Elvis is still not talking to you but you do find him when you’re looking for your purse, and you watch briefly as he stares deeply into the fireplace, something he’s been doing a lot since your fight.

But he’s got another thing coming if he thinks that you have anything to apologize for. You’ll be leaving with or without his permission… which you absolutely do not need either way. And if he chooses to end your friendship like this, then so be it.

Hell if need be you’ll go over his head and ask the Colonel for a letter. You have no doubt that if it means getting you away from Elvis, the Colonel will write nothing short of a glowing review and personally hand deliver it to Paramount.

Christmas day comes and everyone and their mother is over to celebrate. Everybody is living it up and trying their best to not acknowledge the big ole’ elephant in the room. Elvis seemed to be in higher spirits though as he proceeded to act like nothing was amiss, trying to make this a good Christmas for all. It’s almost as though the weather itself knew his plans for a perfect Christmas with the fresh blanket of snow that covered the outside.

Everyone tries to follow suit with keeping up the festive denial, though it doesn’t take long of the both of you obviously avoiding each other for seemingly everyone to notice something is wrong. Some point blank ask what happened between the two of you.

Some of the guys, weirdly enough, ask if you’re feeling sick, which is an odd experience considering that their eyes tend to slide right over you most days. You find yourself compulsively checking yourself in any available surface over and over again, trying to figure out what had them questioning your state. Nothing is out of place, your makeup is flawless and your outfit is perfectly coordinated and festive.

You look beautiful and nothing is wrong. You’re hoping if you repeat that enough times you’ll start to believe that.

You eventually call it a night after a few hours though not before presents are exchanged and you get the pleasure of seeing Elvis' eyes go a bit glassy once he puts on the new coat you got for him only to find the pockets filled with Gum and Guitar strings, because as upset as you are with him you’re not about to break tradition.

By the time you make it back to your room you all but pass out fully dressed on top of your sheets, and you feel the slightest twinge of guilt when you wake up wrapped in Elvis' old Crown Electric Jacket. You don’t really get a chance to dwell on that too much though as after taking your suppressant, do you notice the noise- or better yet the lack thereof.

Graceland is many things but it is definitely never quiet, you learned that early on into moving in. There was always something happening, someone visiting, and something new to do, with the occasional errant chicken running around the house, so it takes not even an hour that first day for you to notice the silence.

It’s almost like a ghost town on the floor below, with the only soul to be found, being the head of this household idling away at the piano. You’re about to head back to your room, wanting absolutely none of this until you hear a “Y/N?” from the piano room. You silently curse his uncanny knack for sniffing you out when others couldn’t, while simultaneously breathing an internal sigh of relief that he no longer sounds angry at you.

“Yeah it’s me E,” you state as you walk into the room, resolved to whatever fate you had signed yourself up for.

He turns around to see you see his face flushed and his eyes puffy, no doubt he’s been having trouble sleeping again.

“Y/N… we’re close right,” he asks genuinely, and you know that that boss comment hurt him deeply.

“We’ve both seen each other without makeup, absolutely nothing is closer than that.” you answer.

That gets a chuckle out of him at least, and it’s almost a relief to hear it after going without it for so long. “How many years we been knowin’ each other?” he asks solemnly, as you sit next to him on the piano bench.

It’s as you're saying 8 do you actually realize how long it’s been. “Time is one sneaky sonuvabitch,” you say, your eyes still wide at the revelation.

He laughs a bit at your reaction, “It sure is,” he says. The next look you can’t quite read as he says, “That's 8 years of believing in my dream longer than even I did at some points.” His eyes wide and his face soft.

You’re very uncomfortable at the amount of vulnerability being shown right now and you quickly course correct by lightly moving his chin with your fist and saying, “Hey now don't chu go gettin’ soft on me Presley,” you say, laughing to mask your nervousness.

He takes your hand in his as he says “What I’m tryin’ ta say Y/N, is th-that it’s been 8 years of you supportin’ me in whatever way I needed.” He gives a sad smile at this, before he continues, “I figure it’s ‘bout time I pay that back. I’ll write whatcha need darlin’.”

You’re stunned at this, truly having believed you would be the first to crack. But here he is, subverting expectations as usual. You’re not the most physically affectionate person, you’ll admit, but you can’t help the overwhelming urge to hug him. Not the obligatory side hugs you give on occasion, nor the awkwardly stiff stance when someone hugs you. This is a full on arms-behind his neck bury your face in his neck kind of hug, as you squeal you thank yous over and over to him.

You remember yourself, you pull away slightly once you feel his hands on your lower back tenderly holding you to him, and with your hands on his chest you look at him directly in the face. His eyes gazing up at you, a soft smile on his plush lips, his breathing steady and strong, as opposed to yours which hitches in your throat.

You clear your throat, “Say where is everybody?” you ask casually releasing yourself from his grip and turning your attention toward the window, which showcased the freshly fallen untouched snow of December.

He approaches you from behind and idly places a warm hand on your shoulder, before saying“I let everyone know I need some alone time and I didn’t really wanna see anyone, till we hear back ‘bout the deferment.”

“Shit sorry,” you say, quickly trying to get up. “I’lll get outta your hair,” you say, only for his grip on your shoulder to slip down to your waist.

“You’re not just anyone to me Y/N,” he drawls, his face far closer than necessary.

"Okay weirdo," you say, turning away hoping your face isn’t radiating how warm you’re feeling. You focus your attention on the snow covered lawn before you declare, "But if this ends up like the Donner's, I'm eating you first."

That gives him pause and you see as he purses his lips, clearly trying to hide a smile before he leans in real close to your ear. You don’t fully understand why your heart seemingly skips a beat as he says in a husky drawl, "Not if I don't eat you first."

There was the briefest of moments when you feel your face heat up at his tone until you roll your eyes at him and move him and his stupid little lip bite away from you. You turn around and try to leave the room, content that your little orphan angry ass isn’t going to be thrown out into the snow just yet. But before you can do so, you feel him grab a hold of your wrist, “ain’tcha cold like that darlin’?”

You look down only to be reminded that you had not in fact dressed for the weather today and your short-sleeve blouse and light skirt reflect that. Though oddly you don’t feel the least bit cold, and you feel mildly perturbed as to how in fact you are feeling very comfortable like this. Though of course you hide your concern by saying “You forget, I’m cold-blooded Presley.”

“Of course you lil’ lizard you,” he says with a smile on his face, as he’s taking off his own jacket. “But mama would have my hide if she found out I let you walk around like that and get sick,” and he drapes the warm material around your shoulders, and then chucks you under your chin to look at him. In spite of your supposedly “cold-blood” you feel uncharacteristically warm as he looks at you.

You quickly make your way back to your room, to open up that secret compartment of your purse to find your suppressants. You take them religiously and know exactly how many you should have left by this point, and you’re relieved to find the correct amount left. You quickly think back to everything that you’ve eaten in the last few days, and nothing sticks out to you that would have affected them and you don’t drink whatsoever so it couldn’t be any of that.

Finally you’re left with no choice but to chalk it up as nothing but you being paranoid. You decide to read on the couch, and somehow between the warmth of his jacket and the soft notes he’s playing, you find yourself in a hypnotic trance and you give into the heavy feeling of your eyelids.

You’re later startled awake when you feel something hit you squarely in the face, confused until the snow begins to melt on you and you feel the cool burn of the cold water on your chest. Elvis is laughing his ass off seeing you like this and nimbly dodges when you throw one of your house slippers at him.

“There were easier ways of wakin’ me up,” you remark through your exasperation.

“Ain’t one of ‘em as funny though,” he says slyly, and you roll your eyes, but your sigh tells him you can’t help but agree. “‘Sides that Twilight show’s ‘bouta start, and I knew you woulda done worse if I let you miss it.”

You’re surprised at that, and as you look out to the dreary looking sky you see that it has in fact been more than a few hours since you’ve been asleep. But it hardly feels like any time has passed between now and then as you still feel like you could sleep for another few hours or even days. You quickly disregard these thoughts though as he tells you it’s only a matter of time before your favorite shows starts.

You take a seat next to him just in time to catch the beginning of Twilight Zone, placing the popcorn between the two of you. You have always loved scary stories like this, and Elvis loved scaring you when you got too wrapped up in the stories. Low and behold as you’re anxiously waiting for Inger Stevens to come across the hitchhiker once again, you feel his cool hands grasp at your side making you all but jump out of your skin.

“I hate you,” you say mulishly as he continues to laugh. Though he doesn’t remove his arm from around your waist which takes your full focus off of the screen, as you look down at his hand curled around your side. You move slightly away from him only for his grip to tighten and you’re pulled even further into him until you're all but sitting on his lap. You’re viscerally reminded of Prom and wonder briefly if he even remembers that night anymore, or if it’s become lost in the shuffle amongst all of the other girls he’s had over the years, and an ugly feeling of jealousy shoots through you in that moment.

“Oh there’s the popcorn,” you say, as you use your whole body to stand up and get off of his lap. You grab it and rather than get back on the couch, you sit yourself on the floor, clutching the bowl in front of yourself as though it were a shield, as Perry Mason was just about to start. You’re hesitant to look at him right now, until he reaches down and grabs a handful of popcorn from the bowl.

“Wait I know how this one ends,” Elvis says, with a cheeky grin. “Perry Mason wins.”

He’s just a naturally touchy person, you justify to yourself, don’t read too much into it. “It’s not about if, it’s how goddamnit,” you assert, with a smile on your face. As the show continues you hardly notice when Elvis makes his way to the floor or when he casually throws an arm around your shoulder, though that’s mostly due to the fact that by the half-way mark of the episode, you were struggling to keep your eyes open. Even finding yourself leaning on him more and more, and if you weren’t so tired you would wonder why, considering that you spent most of the day napping.

No, you just find yourself silently grateful for that crazy Alpha strength of his to carry you to bed, your bed feeling more comfortable than you can ever remember it as you settle in.

Waking up to find Elvis in your bed is not unusual. Waking up to him under the sheets with you holding you around your waist is rare but occasionally does happen. Waking up to find that you’re in his bed as he nuzzles his nose into your neck with a handful of your ass while… something… pokes your belly, absolutely unheard of.

You try to peel his hand off and carefully remove yourself from his grip, only for him to roll over fully on top of you and bury himself between your breasts. You stop breathing entirely for a moment, too worried that any sort of chest-heaving may wake him and make this whole situation all the more uncomfortable. Part of you wishes to go back to sleep and hope that this was simply a bad dream, but as he shifts you feel his thigh place itself firmly by your core, the action so sudden and shocking that you audibly gasp.

You feel him stir at that and your face is burning, embarrassed by this whole ordeal, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling you get as he plants a sleepy kiss on your neck and removes himself from you. You think you’ve reached new heights of humiliation, until you find him between your thighs and feel one of his hands start to travel up your skirt.

This has got to be a dream, you think.

“Ok, you’ve had your fun,” you say, trying not to make your skittishness so apparent. “You can quit it now,” but then his other hand travels further up and you’re almost too distracted to notice its twin hook on to your panties and begin to drag them down. And before you can make any noise of protest, it turns into a surprised squeak as you feel his hot breath waft over your now naked cunt. You’re frozen in place as to what the hell is going on, both fearful and hopeful as to what he’s about to do next.

Those seconds seem to drag on for hours, there’s nothing stopping you from closing your legs or even covering yourself with your hands, but neither of these occur to you. Instead you lay there paralyzed as he further parts your thighs and using his tongue lightly trace up the seam of your cunt.

That sends you into overdrive and removes any possibility that this is a dream, as he languidly tongues your core. Your hips almost immediately buck up but he keeps you down with a forearm across your lower belly, as he tenderly nurses at your clit.

You grab at his hair but that only seems to further invigorate him, as his groans seem to reverberate off of your walls and he goes from focusing on that bundle of nerves, to delving lower and lower to that seldom explored entrance of your cunt. You restlessly try to push his head away from you, but your thighs apparently have a mind of their own as they box him in when you feel the tip of tongue lightly trace the rim of your fluttering hole.

His tongue, you are learning, has talents well beyond singing as you feel that wicked muscle eagerly delve into what little access you have (reluctantly?) granted him. The pleased hums he’s making, demonstrating how much he’s enjoying the act don’t help either.

Eventually you find your hands running through the hair that you, probably more than anyone in the world, are most intimately familiar with, even seeing the hint of his light roots that you’ve neglected to touch up in the last few days. You’re at the very least glad that the two of you are alone in the house, because you doubt you would have been able to muffle the downright filthy sounds coming out of your mouth.

The noises you’re making seem to only spur him further, as his thumb goes from an unhurried pace to a far more goal-oriented motions as his tongue goes rigid and plunges as deep as it could go and then, almost playfully, wiggles within you.

You’re left seeing stars, your pussy clamping down around his tongue, though he removes it almost immediately in order to prolong your euphoria by sucking on that little button of yours.

Even after all of that, you still held out hope that this was some weird sleepwalking episode and somehow feeling another warm body, he was going off of instincts until he removes himself from your pussy, nonchalantly wiping his mouth with his thumb, and looks you right in the eye with a look that tells you he has an appetite that has only been mildly wetted.

“Guess I ate ya’ first darlin’,” he remarks with a very sweet kiss to your lips, as though he didn’t just make you have the best orgasm of your life. God you’re so familiar with these lips, yet it still takes you by surprise as to how soft they feel against your own. You’re only human so lord forgive if you wish to indulge in the fantasy of perhaps every teenage omega in the country. But quickly you gain your bearings, remembering that as far as he’s concerned, you’re a Beta through, and through.

It kills you a little to remove yourself, breathing raggedly as you try to come to grips with what is happening. His eyes are blown out entirely, and he licks his lips as though you’re a meal waiting to be devoured, but even then you instinctively know he’s seeing you as you are.

This trance you’re both in is broken by the shrill ring of the phone from the upstairs office. He gives a soft curse, before he rolls out of bed and casually walks out of the room. You’re left leaning against the pillows. Looking up at the ceiling, utterly shell-shocked, mindlessly fixing your skirt to cover up your bare pussy as you try to figure out what the hell just happened.

But it’s as you’re doing that does an unbearable fire come upon you. A terrible fever emanating from your lower belly overwhelms you and as you helplessly inch out of his bed every instinct within you is screaming how bad of an idea that actually is. Every step away from that bed is agony, as though you’re wading through lava, away from any safe haven you may have found. Even trying to move your panties back into place feels scalding and you’re left with no choice but to remove them completely, leaving you completely accessible. You shiver at the thought, and not from the cold.

Briefly you wonder if maybe Elvis had something to do with this sickness you’re experiencing, but as you feel a throbbing emptiness from deep within you, do you realize that this is in fact a long ignored part of yourself that is simply roaring back to life. You finally recognize what exactly this is and recognize what sort of trouble you’re in.

You skittishly look out the door and, finding the office door closed with his voice behind it, you make a quick beeline to the staircase, and from there dash to your room, where you quickly barricade yourself in with your vanity table. And in the mirror are you forced to face what you are. Your eyes blown out, your clothes wrinkled and disheveled, the makeup you neglected to take off before bed smudged, sweat running from the warmth emanating from within you, and your whole body trembling under the effort to not flip over the table and run directly back to him. Not to mention the slippery feeling of your thighs as your slick runs freely, unhindered by any. You look at the very image of the idyllic debauched Omega and you finally recognize something is very wrong.

You have never in your life neglected to take your suppressant a day in your life, and quickly counting them, you find no extras, so that’s clearly not the case. It is as you are doing a double count do you realize something off about them. Looking directly at your suppressants underneath the light, they looked off. They were a slightly more yellowish white than they usually are and picking one up to inspect it, your nail catches the edge of it and it crumbles a bit. Neither of these things bode well for you. You desperately look for your extra doses of suppressants only to find them missing.

That’s when it goes from less than ideal to utter nightmare territory. You don’t know how nor do you know why, but your suppressants are no longer effective and you may very well be hurdling full force into heat, alone in a home with an unmated, virile Alpha. You immediately get to packing what you can, trying to figure out your best means of escape.

You try to assess your options as to where you can go for the next few days, but with all your options being either Alphas or out of town, you have no choice but to go back to your father. But your most pressing issue as of right now is how you’re going to get out of this room. Your windows are sealed shut, so you’re left with no choice but to venture out back into the house and pray he’s still upstairs.

You’ve done your best to ignore the steady stream of slick that has been running between your thighs, but the idea that he’s out there somewhere, causes a new rush of it to burst out, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you lose all restraint and give in to what your biology is demanding of you.

You made a beeline for the front door, your mind determined to make it out of Graceland but it was upon actually getting to the front door do you find your hands hesitating for a second. Some latent part of yourself really questions if it would be so bad to be his, questions why you have to fight it when he’s been nothing but good to you.

But it was your moment of hesitation that gave enough time for a familiar ringed hand to slam the door shut on you. “Baby, there you are,” despite the door now shutting out the cold, you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine.

“Elvis I-I-I,” you swallow, his scent so heady and powerful you can almost taste him on the back of your tongue. “I need to leave.”

“I just got the good news,” he states, completely blowing past what you just said. “They granted me the deferment for the movie.”

“Elvis, I’m begging you,” you plead, as a bruising grip on your wrist forces you to let go of your packed bag. You’ve only ever cried once in your life in front of him, but now the tears flow freely down your face.

“Don'tchu worry your pretty little head ‘bout anythin’ darlin’,” he coos, wiping the tears from your cheek. “You go where I go, ain’t nothin’ gonna change ‘bout that.”

Even after all the time that had passed, you can still vaguely taste yourself on him, not an unpleasant taste, but your thoughts quickly turn to wondering how he would taste, or better yet how the both of you would taste together. The kiss becomes heavier and deeper as you wrap your arms around him and boldly run your tongue over those sharp canines of his, some masochistic part of you demanding to press harder.

Your chest is heaving, needing more oxygen than you personally think is necessary, and yet you find yourself giving pathetic little whimpers as he leaves your lips in favor of marking a trail of kisses down your body.

He kneels down before you, burying his face in the crevice between your thighs, the only barrier between you and him, being the thin material of your skirt. It was only then did you notice the brief relief from the fever you felt, all due to his close proximity. “You smell ripe for the pickin’ sweetheart,” he breathes out in a raspy tone, looking up at you as though he were in prayer, as his hand drags the zipper of your skirt down. It slips down fully with only the slightest of tugs, and your left trembling, bare from the waist down in front of him, as your thighs shift uneasily the slick that’s gathered making it all the easier.

You try not to look down at him, as though that will stop what’s happening right now. His tongue is now collecting every trace of your wetness it could find and just barely missing where you feel you need him most, to which you’re not afraid to voice your disapproval of.

“Don’t mind if I take the first bite,” he whispers, the tip of a canine barely scraping the smooth skin of your thigh. It’s that contact that reminds you what exactly is at stake here. Without warning you do your best to push him to the ground. He’s caught off guard but manages to catch himself before he lands on his ass, but the momentary surprise gives you just enough room to slip out.

You are about to sprint all the way back to your room, hoping to lock yourself in, until you feel an iron-like grip on your ankle. You’re barely able to catch yourself with your hands, but you're quickly dragged backwards. You desperately claw at the carpets, trying to find some kind of purchase only for him to grab a hold of both your wrists in one hand.

And that’s that. You’re thoroughly wrangled, no means of escape and no one coming to save you. You recognize how thoroughly fucked you are (or ar going to be) and that really no point in fighting it anymore, but you can’t even trust yourself enough to say that it wasn’t intentional on some level.

Let it never be said you’re not stubborn until the very end.

“Now I didn’t appreciate that one bit,” he hisses at you, and you hear the tell the shifting of fabric as he moves his pants down his hips, still holding your wrists down.

“Please Elvis,” you say desperately, only managing to wiggle your hips slightly which doesn’t help your case whatsoever. His hand is now splayed along your lower belly, as he lifts your hips into a new position to you, your cheek still stuck to the carpet. “You don’t want to do this,” you sob hoping he’s not too far gone, though with the way he groans at the feeling of your warm ass on the underside of his cock, even you understand there’s nothing that’s going to stop this from happening.

“What I want is ta tan your hide, for denyin’ me this sweet little pussy a yours for all these years,” he growls hungrily next to your ear, and those words shouldn’t have you keening and writhing like you were, but they do and you are. “But we’ll save that when it won’t be so pleasant for you. ‘Sides your cunt is achey enough already, ain’t it?” he purrs, the head of him prodding at your core, barely catching the rim of your entrance.

“Yes, oohh yes Elvis,” you whine, pathetically. “Please-”

You can’t say for certain whether or not you were gonna continue to deny him, all you can say is that all thoughts or hesitations seem to melt away as you feel him push himself in. Your eyes threaten to roll back all the way into your head, it felt so good. You're practically dripping wet at this point, but even still the girth is still something to contend with, as you’ve never had to handle equipment this big before, and at the angle you’re at you can’t quite make-out how much more of this you’ll have to take.

Elvis though is about as patient as he could be under the circumstances. He’s like steel wrapped in velvet, silky yet unyielding, as he sinks into you like hot butter, until finally his hips meet your ass. His heavy member has found a home in your cunt, and with the patience of a goddamn saint, he waits until your moans and groans aren't so ambiguous, and has the sound of a woman enjoying herself.

You’re low groan when he moves out, turns into a high-pitched shriek when he slams back into you. You sympathized with him when the papers started calling him The Pelvis but now being here underneath him , you can’t think period, let alone think of a more fitting nickname considering how well he’s wielding his to go at a harsh yet tender pace behind you.

In his rutting frenzy, he’s seemingly forgotten his hold on your wrists, but you in turn have abandoned your initial fervor to get away from him. You find yourself pushing backwards, desperate to keep him inside as best you can, frantically rubbing tight little circles on your clit with a single-mindedly chasing release, while you push off your other hand and try to meet his thrusts.

But he hasn’t quite gotten over that sadistic streak of his as he stops mid thrust and holds your waist preventing you from moving any further. You want to cry, you were so close, but the part of you that wants to be good and obey him wins out over the willful side of you, and you bury your forehead into the carpet. And as still as you can manage, you wait with bated breath for his next move.

“I tried bein’ nice ‘bout it, let you come to me,” he whispers in your ear as he moves the collar of your shirt out of the way, kissing the newly exposed skin. “But you gotta be so goddamn stubborn ‘bout everything,'' He hisses and you feel his warm breath waft on the back of your neck, and you know what’s coming next. You’ve dreaded this happening for years, but it’s so much worse than you ever could have imagined, because it’s coming from the last person you expected. You feel his lips curl into a small smile against your skin, and you feel the light scrape of one of his canines against your skin. “But I ain’t about ta have you any other way.” And without wasting another moment, he sinks his teeth into your neck marking you as his until the end of your days.

The sheer amount of pleasure and pain surging through your body makes you feel everything and nothing at all. All that registers really is the euphoric feeling as to where the two of you are joined together -at long last- so you didn’t miss a single moment as you feel the base of his cock start to swell. You're so startled that you try to pathetically crawl away only for him to take a hold of your still sore hips and bring you flush against him, as he seemingly grows and grows within you, well past what you ever thought could have fit up there.

You briefly black out for a moment not so much reaching your peak, but being rocketed to heights beyond what you could have ever imagined. Longer and more intense than you’ve ever been able to achieve, with a partner or otherwise, you’re a shivering pile of flesh, no longer tied to another worldly want other than the man behind you.

His moans are pure ecstasy, his hands undoubtedly leaving bruises on your hips, and his member resting heavy inside of you. Even though, on some level, you know it’s a fool's errand, you nonetheless try to separate yourself from him only to be given a painful reminder why this thing was often described as being “locked in.” You could feel yourself already stretched past your limit, refusing to let go of him, and you hear him groan from the new sensation, as tears flow down your cheeks from the pain.

What’s worse is that when you finally give up and snap back into place do you both shudder at the sensation as he reaches some part deep inside of you. You black out for a moment from going from intense pain to immense pleasure almost immediately can do that to you only to now find yourself on your side with Elvis behind lazily rocking his hips into yours as he leaves blistering kisses where he can and scorching trails everywhere else he could reach.

You’re left with no choice but to stay put and try not to enjoy every roll of his hips against yours, though you stubbornly bite your own lip to prevent yourself from making any noises, approving or otherwise. But this plan quickly falls apart as your mulish defiance of him and his wants are nothing compared to the swift slap on your pussy that causes you to bite down hard on your own lip. Your stupid protruding canine gets your lip, and upon your instinctual cry and release of your lip do you begin to taste the coppery flavor of your own blood. You attempt to hide your face only for him to grab a hold of your jaw, only to lick up the small trail of blood to your chin. You’re way past being able to be shocked by him anymore, and simply choose to relish in this sinful act, with a man who has been trying to clean up his image for the past few months.

If you had to guess, you’re like that for roughly an hour, until finally he’s at a size where you're finally able to remove yourself from him without discomfort, other than the veritable flood that comes gushing out of you without his cock to keep all of it in. Towards the end, he had shifted you so that you were back on your knees, your head resting on your forearms, with your ass in the air and you could only watch mesmerized as a small stream of his milky white seed runs down your thigh only to stop where your knee meets the floor where it proceeds to disappear into the ivory carpet beneath you.

You hear him purr behind you, apparently just as captivated by the show your pussy is giving him. In one swift motion you find yourself on your back and as he follows the path his cum had trailed down your leg, back to its source. You gasp as you feel him dip his fingers back into you and he hooks some of the seed out of your cunt only to use your now open mouth to stick them in there.

It’s almost like a switch goes off in your head with that first real taste of him. You no longer try to fight with yourself, not even choosing to give in really, because with the way you're feeling right now it’s not even really a choice anymore.

“Anything that ain’t goin’ into your pretty pussy is goin’ in that smart mouth a yours, you understand lil’ mama?” he purrs, satisfied as your tongue splits his fingers trying to get every single drop of him you could. “We don’t wanna let any of this go to waste now do we?”

“No,” you cry desperately, truly ashamed as to what you’re becoming. But you have no time for those thoughts as he surprises you by returning back down to your pussy.

“Keep your mouth open,” he orders between your thighs, words slightly muffled as they are against your lower lips. You're confused as to what he’s doing until he gives a light press on your lower belly and his cum gushes out of your poor abused hole and into his waiting mouth. He takes what comes out before he crawls back up to you to get a hold of your jaw, a dangerous look set in his eyes.

You dutifully do as he says and open up. Once that hot, heady flavor of your combined fluids hits your tongue you’re gone, without ego and fully submitting yourself not only to him but the primitive Omega brain that wants nothing more than to be his. You even wrap your arms around his neck to bring his lips to yours, so that the two of you could fully share this obscene cocktail that you both have managed to create.

“Aww baby,” he breathes, his lips brushing against yours. “We wasted so much goddamn time not doin’ this.” In your state of mind you can’t help but agree.

He takes you on just about every available surface of the house, and you truly believe that the only reason he didn’t venture outward was due to how cold it was. If you had the capacity to think beyond seeking your next release you would feel ashamed as to what everybody will undoubtedly smell when they return. But all you could really focus on at any given moment was how good he felt inside you, or tasted on your tongue.

As frantic as he was to keep as much cum inside of you as possible, he also seemed to gain a specific kind of pleasure seeing you drip with his seed and having you swallow it in penance. You can’t get enough of any part of him and he makes good on his promise as to where his cum would go (where it belongs,) and for a solid week you are sustained almost solely on that save for whatever Elvis can scrounge from the kitchen. There’s almost a soft melancholy when you swallow him, as though he’s truly saddened over the lost potential of that particular load, as though he’s not stuffing you full of it seemingly every hour.

But in your haze you were all too happy to take what he could give you, you cunt greedy for all that he can give you.

And it’s underneath him that you learn about Alpha anatomy. Knotting, as you learn it’s officially called, is something Elvis can only do two to three times a day before he has to rest. Doesn’t stop him from trying every single time, nor does it stop him from having you

It becomes easier and easier each time, until you find yourself after each peak desperately grinding on to him, hoping that his knot would make a reappearance and make you feel whole. By the third day you even find yourself falling asleep with it within you, finding the fullness comforting, as though reassuring you that he won’t disappear on you in such a vulnerable state. The few times he’s left the bed you’re left a helpless, writhing mess desperate for him, even when he’s promised you he would be gone only for a few minutes. Part of you thinks he leaves more often than strictly necessary, considering the smug look he gives seeing you so needy for him and practically begging for his cock as you fruitlessly tried to replicate that sense of fullness only he could give.

“Empty,” you mewl, at this point incapable of full sentences.

He’s decided to torture you a bit rubbing the head of his cock on your clit. The hand splayed on your soft stomach prevents you from moving too much, wanting to take his time with you. Your whimpering begging for what you want desperate

“You ain’t ever gonna feel that way again,” he whispers through his kisses along the mark he left. “I’m gonna fill you up so good, ain’t no way you won’t be carryin’ my baby. Ain’t that whatchu want sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you cry desperately, willing to agree to anything, if he would only give you what you wanted, perhaps marking one of the few times he’s won a battle of wills against you.

You’re more animal than woman that week, a slave to her desires, a creature whose sole purpose is to be fucked and have his babies, if Elvis’ whisperings during this time are to be believed. You worry as to whether or not this more primitive side is due to your lack of experience with being in heat or if this is what to expect from every heat going forward. You feel as though someone else has taken the reins to your body and you’re simply meant to enjoy the ride.

Elvis on the other hand stays aware, and he takes care of you throughout it all, making sure you eat enough and drink water, makes sure your lips don’t dry out, licks at your wounds to help speed up the healing process, etc. You’ve never felt so needy, and you’re barely coherent enough to form complete sentences, and so you show your appreciation by being both as vocal and as obedient as possible.

He usually spends recovery periods licking you clean, though not necessarily where you initially thought he would’ve. You can’t help but conclude his love affair with the taste of your blood considering how much time he spends on the small wounds he’s made all over your body. In his initial eagerness to explore your body in those first few hours, he had “accidentally” nicked you every so often, the sole exception being the twin crescent marks you can feel on your neck and on your ass, which was clearly nothing less than intentional. Though your state and his efforts have significantly sped up the healing process, you know by the end of this you will be left with a constellation of scars.

“This one” he said lightly running his fingers along the marred skin of your neck. “That one’s for the world baby,” he coos, as he gives it a light kiss, making the slap that lands perfectly on top of the mark on your bottom, all the more surprising. “That one’s just for me and you. So you best not forget who that belongs to.”

“Never,” you sigh happily.

It’s almost funny when you think about it, how the world demands a clean-cut, sexless teen heart-throb, as though a majority of them aren’t also beholden to this primitive state of theirs. Looking at him now above you, his teeth sharp and bared, his grunts and groans echoing throughout the house, the bruises and scratches you’ve been able to leave on his torso, even the stubble you’ve felt more than you’ve seen, all paint a very primal portrait of him. He’s something wild, untameable even, someone who isn’t afraid to show how he is beholden to his own desires and instincts as the rest of the world hid from them, and tried to act like they don’t exist.

If it weren’t for the knot you would be hard-pressed to find much of a difference between this Elvis and the standard one.

By the end of your heat, you’re thoroughly exhausted, you don’t even have the energy to be mad at him anymore. You’ve just resolved yourself to your fate that will forever be tied to the boy you once thought you knew. You don’t even have the luxury of knowing whether these thoughts are your own, and not some long suppressed Omega part of you that simply wants to enjoy the way his calloused guitar hands gently rub the soft part of your lower belly.

But if this week has been about satisfying long-standing desires you’re not about to hold back on your desire for knowledge. Specifically how he discovered your secret.

“I wasn’t ‘bout a let you go without a fight baby,” he whispers, comfortable in not needing to hide anything from you anymore, as you’re thoroughly ensnared. “I was cookin’ up some not so nice plans to keep you by me no matter what. Only for a goddamn Christmas miracle to drop into my lap.” he says, allowing you to make your own pace at which to ride him.

“Your daddy sent me a bill in the mail, and I think you know what he was charging you for, dontcha?” he purrs, lazily thumbing at your clit and watching as your breasts bounced in rhythm with your frantic bucking.

“Bein’ the good mate I am, I let him know that you weren’t gon’ need any of that shit no more,” he says, giving a firm slap on your ass seemingly just because he felt like it. “And I some interestin’ things about them pills. You know what stops them pills from workin’ right?” he asks, lazily rutting into you.

“What?”

“You add a lil’ heat,” he growls, and suddenly his obsession with the fireplace these last few days makes perfect sense.

He spoke to you of how he’s been dreaming of this for years, and how he’s known that you were it for him, even when he thought nothing physical could happen between the two of you.

But even as he spoke, there was an ever present air of inevitability when he spoke to you as to how he envisioned your future together as though this was always meant to happen. And it was only a matter of you catching up to him. Afterall you were the one who taught him to ignore what he didn’t want to hear. And he didn’t want to hear no from you.

Taglist

@venus-haze @djsjs13949 @ilovehobi101 @butlerslut @richardslady121 @giabelia @sydneyyyya @meetme0614 @tacozebra051 @myradiaz @thelifes-world @maythesunshineagain @rakitirakiti @lostteenagetale @j-v-9-2 @eliseinmemphis @dkayfixates @immi547 @thatbanditqueen @marriedtoeddie @cuteejeno @itlover8000 @isthlsfate @mgparker @thatbanditqueen @softsatnin @literally-just-elvis-fics

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in-hav3n · 9 months

Note

heyy

i just had this idea:

imagine current james hiring a young woman as his personal assistant, to help him organize his schedule and stuff like that.

she's good at her job but she's a dynamic and kind of stubborn person. one day james misunderstands something so he thinks that she messed up even tho HE was the one who actually messed up.

he started complaining about what he thinks she did wrong but then she manages to prove that she was right all along and that he had misunderstood the situation.

he gets turned on by her dynamism and the way she defended herself and proved him wrong so he ends up fucking her on his desk.

(please, write how you imagine the argument and of course the last part when he fucks her 🤭)

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ?

Warnings : NSFW - sex scene - rough sex - age gap

"(X/Y) ? Can you come in my office, now ?".

James' voice interrupted you as you were sitting at the kitchen table, talking about a new vegetarian restaurant in town with Kirk. Your eyes landed on your boss and you nodded professionally.

"Yes, sure".

His appearance was enough to change the atmosphere of the room. Curiously, all the conversations stopped and everyone looked at James. Kirk looked at you with a curious frown too, wondering why his buddy adopted this particular tone to ask. You answered him with a shrug. You had no idea what he wanted since it was near the end of the day and you were all about to leave. Maybe he wanted to ask you one more important task that had to be done now ? Who knows with James...

You greeted goodbye to the guys and some management's member that were in the kitchen or in the recording room as following James through HQ's alleys. HQ was now a pretty big building the guys had fitted out through the years. Each rooms had its own purpose, going from recording room to instruments storage. They also thought to put a recreation room where they could play pool or have fun with a pinball machine when they needed to refresh their mind from talks and argues about the songs of the new album.

James' office was the last room at the end of the building, next to a tech room and the laundry room. You didn't know why he had chosen to have this one since the others were more close to the exit, on the other side of the building, but only assumed that it was his way to have his own personal space where he could be quiet. Which wouldn't surprised you considering his character.

James was a respectful, nice and empathic boss. When you were hired as his personal assistant, a year ago, you had fears since he was a big rockstar and seemed pretty intimidating but he was the exact opposite. He was really a gentle, down to earth man who let you do your job the best you could. He was very understanding and never complained. That's why his earlier attitude surprised you. He seemed concerned and his face showed no expressions. Which was even more stressful. But you had also learned that since his divorce, James seemed more introvert, sometimes quiet and with no expressions...

He opened his office door for you and moved to the side to let you in. You thanked him by passing by, still holding your agenda and your smart computer against your heart. As a good employee, you just stood in front of his desk and waited for him.

"Is there anything I can do ?", you finally asked, breaking the ice.

Usually he would have told you immediately what was the matter. His silence was uncomfortable. James closed the door when you got in and joined you, hands in his pocket. You follow each of his step with your glance, heart beating of anticipation.

"Actually yes. We have a problem", you frowned at his words.

The world "problem" was enough to feel even more nervous. You waited for an explanation he gave right away. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and open his mails, still in silence. You started to breathe deeper, holding tighter your personal stuffs against your chest as waiting for the reason of his disappointment. But even after searching in your mind, you found no reasons for him to be disappointed.

"Cigar Aficionado sent me an mail to confirm the photoshoot on Wednesday the 6th", he started as looking at you. "We talked about it and we both agreed on the 8th. If you wanted to change the date to match with one of my another appointment you could have told me before (X/Y). Now I have to change all my schedule cause I had planned something else on this date".

His tone was professional, direct and serious. You didn't recognize the James you knew and it was really curious. You listened at his speech and waited to defend yourself.

"I'm sorry Mr Hetfield but...", you gulped, shaking your head. "The date never changed. When we talked about this interview and photoshoot, you told me you preferred a Wednesday and it was the only date available", you explained, not believing your ears. James was thinking you completely messed up but you did nothing wrong. As always, he was the one choosing the date first.

"A Wednesday? I doubt it", he replied back, with a chuckle. "Now it's scheduled for a day that doesn't suit me at all and I'm really disappointed".

His words hurt like a knife. "Disappointed". It hurt cause you always did your best, everyday. You always checked everything twice to be sure. You were always reachable, day and night, and you always fulfilled all his ask. You wanted to show him your value and this was you got in return. You had to fight back.

"I'm deeply sorry but I have nothing to do with this", you added with a convinced tone. "I can prove it to you", you quickly opened your agenda, holding it against you carefully. James joined you to see but he didn't seem to be ready to believe you. You held your breath for a short brief when you feel his stature next to you. You finally found the page and pointed out the info for him with a shaken finger.

"There. 6th April. Photoshoot and interview. I wrote this with you, we were in your office. I even told you they were particularly fussy concerning the schedule and you told me you didn't care. You also did a joke about the name of their press manager".

James frowned at your explanation, with an expression that seemed to say "I'm still searching if I should believe you or not", but kept a inner chuckle when he heard you remembered one of his stupid joke. He was surprised you paid attention to this. But he was also surprised that you dared to say he was the one to be wrong. He always thought you were a nice shy girl and he was witnessing another side of your personality...and he was enjoying it.

"Maybe but still", he replied back. He had now an idea in mind and wanted to see where this could lead..."You did wrong and I'm really disappointed. I don't want this to happen again", he conclued as turning his back to leave.

You opened your mouth. It was incredible. You placed your stuffs on his desk in a too much harsh movement but you couldn't contain your frustration anymore. He was really stubborn and you were sure to be right. He had to listen. It wasn't fair to accuse you.

"Listen. Once again I'm sorry if this date doesn't suit you but I tell you, once again, I'm not responsible. You asked me to plan this on the 8th April and as your personal assistant, I scheduled it as you asked", you explained.

James turned over and looked at you. His no expression face disturbed you for a while but your envy of justice was enough to give your courage. But deep inside, James was enjoying this moment. There you were finally showing what he wanted to see and he was pleased. You had the guts to defy him and he liked it.

"Are you sure of it ?", he asked, wanting to push you to the limit. He wanted to see what you could do and what you'd be ready to do to prove you were right.

"Of course I am", you gasped in disbelief. "I'm sorry but I'm doing my job the best I can since you hired me ! Within a year, I don't think I've ever done a misstep. I'm giving myself every day for this job because I really like it and with all due respect I don't like hearing that I did something wrong when I know I didn't".

James smiled, amused and more impressed by your determination. He had to admitted that he always found you really pretty and beautiful but this character you had now was really turning him on. Your white shirt slightly opened revealed a bit your pink skin near your breasts and it was enough to make him burn of excitement.

"Would you swear it ?", he asked, playing his game till the end, coming closer like a pretador. You didn't notice his play tough, neither what he was about to do. But stil, seeing him closer was enough to make you loose your breath a little.

"Of course, I-I'd", you said back, not understanding what was happening. "I swear... I- I din't nothing wrong. You misunderstood and...". You were cut off by James lips crashing on yours. You pulled away immediately, surprised, as placing your both palms on his strong chest.

Even with heels, you weren't tall enough to be face to face with him. You looked up at him, asking for an explanation but you only got a chuckle as James hands laid on your hips.

You were totally hypnotized by his beautiful blue eyes, his smirk and his delicate touch. But it was all wrong...Of course, you always found him really charming and gorgeous, who could resist to this man? Him holding you this way was a dream coming true. But you also remembered that he was older than you and most of all, he was your boss. It wasn't right at all.

Your butt landed against his desk and the air in the room became thick and extremely hot.

"You did wrong you know that...", James said with his husky voice. You didn't leave his gaze and shook your head. He wanted to get you on your nerves and it was working.

"I did not...", you challenged him with a more confident tone as diving into his beautiful blue eyes. One last corner smile and James bend again to kiss you, more hungrily, more deeper this time. And you let it go...One of your hand landed on his neck to push him further against your lips. They were soft, tasting sweetly cigar and mint and now that you tasted them, you wanted them more. You forgot all the previous thoughts you had and only focused on what was happening and how good this was.

James left your lips to devour your neck with wet kisses. You moaned shyly and closed your eyes, as one hand gripped his shirt whilst the other ran into his grey hair. James enjoyed your touch and let you know by a slight moan against your skin. His hungry fingers opened her shirt more and this made you looked at what he was doing in disbelief. You helped as putting off your shirt out of your skirt before he nearly ripped the last button. He opened the clothe in one movement to give attention to your breasts now.

"Oh god...", you moaned in a whisper as your head fell back and your hand gripped the edge of the desk to have a better support. No doubt James definitely knew what to do with his lips and tongue. He spread wet kisses on your skin whilst his fingers slowly pulled off your bra cup to expose your breast.

Being so exposed would had normally made you feel uncomfortable but with the adrenaline of the argument you had put you both in some sort of trance that couldn't stopped until the desire you felt would be fulfilled.

James looked up at you, while he was still feasting on your breasts, cupping them while he was sucking your already hard nipples. He was taking care of them like if it was a precious thing and this made you gasped of excitement as looking at him, caressing his face. He shifted into high gear without a word by pushing you on his desk to make you sit on it.

He knew what he wanted and you liked being conducted. But you also wanted to show him that you had guts for sex too and not only for argument. So your hands quickly found their way on his belt buckle and you opened his button, unzipped his jeans with shaking hands to reveal the huge bulge he was hiding in his boxer.

"In a hurry sweetheart?", he asked with a grin as he helped and pulled off his boxer along his thighs, his dick swinging proudly, hitting his lower belly. You bite your lower lip and looked at him with a grin. He played with you now it was time to play with him. Slowly, your palm embraced his hard member and your finger wrapped around his base as you gently started to stroke him. James groaned low and bend to kiss you softly.

"You seem to know what you want...", he whispered, adding another peck. You smiled and pecked him again while your hand was still working on him.

"I know I'm right...and I know what I want", you gasped in a sexy tone as using your other hand to stroke him better with two hands.

James eyes opened wilder and he chuckled at your answer.

"Then skirt up and take off that panties for me baby", he commanded again and as his nice and obedient employee, you did as he asked. You put your feet back on the ground, raised your skirt over your hips with your hands then sat again. James didn't stop looking, stroking himself as admiring the view. He didn't expect any of this but now he was craving for it. This argument and the guts you have showed were enough to awaken the beast.

With a swing, you roll on your butt and quickly pulled off your panties, your pussy shivering at the cold air of te room. You threw it somewhere, not caring, and opened your legs wide for him.

"You're ready for me sweetheart?", he asked and you checked on yourself on your own wetness, your fingers rubbing your wet lips. You were already wet and you've never been so wet so quickly before to be honest. This man really knew what he was doing and it was exciting as hell.

You nodded and James came closer, lining himself up with you. He pushed your pelvis further, with his hands gripping your butt to do so and you felt his tip hitting your entrance by surprise. You gasped a moan and looked beneath you whilst James giggled.

"Sensitive ?". He gently rubbed his tip on your wet lips with his right hand, collecting the wetness before he rubbed his tip on your clit. Another moan, louder this time, escaped your lips.

"Damn, fuck me!", you panted. You couldn't take this tease anymore and you needed him right now. James spat on his hand to add more wetness on his tip and then pushed inside you, with a slow but powerful thrust. His left hand gripped one of your thigh to keep you against him. He pushed enough to thrust deep and your hands had no choice but to grip his forearms. James pulled out and pushed in a few times to stretch you until he felt you were ready for a slow pace.

"Oh it's good...", you panted and moaned at the same time, your head rolling back and forth. You didn't want to miss any eye contact with him, noticing his pupils went darker, showing lust and excitement.

"Your pussy is so sweet and tight baby...", he groaned of pleasure and you grinned back at him, your nails digging inside his flesh.

"Faster please...fuck me harder", you commanded him as gripping one of his hips, pushing his lower back deeper inside you to show you the rhythm you want. He was so good at it that you couldn't resist to take the lead too. James moaned low and his hands gripped your both thighs, with a harder grip that would surely left marks tomorrow but you didn't care. You wanted him to ram into you now that he started this dance.

"FUCK yes! ", you moaned loud, not even thinking anymore that you were actually fucking your boss and this was real. Not even caring that someone might heard you behind the door. It was the end of the journey after all and everyone would left soon. No one was really coming in this side and maybe now you had found the reason why James' office was that far from the other rooms...

You started to move your pelvis at his pace, in unison, your hands now founding a better grip on his desk. His pubic hair were slightly scratching again your sensitive clit and it was extremely hot. But James didn't like sharing control and this attitude started to annoy him, but in a good way. It awakened the beast in him.

He suddenly pulled off in a move, his dick still hard and swollen from the fuck you just had. You whined of surprise, feeling completely empty.

"What's...?", you started to ask in a gasp, wondering what was happening. But James didn't let you finish your ask that he pushed you back on the ground and gently turned you over his desk. You have no other choice than to obey and this sudden change aroused you even more. He was taking control, he wanted to show you who was ruling.

"Ass up baby...", he groaned in a command tone. You moaned as doing what he asked, bending over the wooden table to grip the other edge of it, already anticipating what was about to come next. You felt your pussy pulsing of excitement, wanting him to fuck you again and more. James slapped your ass hard once and came behind you, his dick hitting your entrance from behind. You moaned and lifted a bit your ass to line up with him.

James bend his chest over your back, caught your throat with his palm as his face came closer. You felt his breath near your ear, making you shiver.

"I'm gonna fuck you so well...my dick is gonna pound into you so hard baby...", he whispered in a groan as slapping you again. You moaned loud.

"Oh yes please...I want it"

"Yes who?", he teased you, biting your earlobe as his catch around your throat tighten.

"Yes Mister Hetfield", you gasped of ecstasy, something deep inside you vibrating inside your entire body as you let out those words. This was turning you on in a level you've never experienced and you were sure you'd cum soon.

"That's better",he groaned before pulling away, pushing your lower back to line up properly. He rubbed his tip on your wet lips and you gasped again, waiting for the push. You wanted him more than anything. And in one deep thrust, James pushed inside you again. You moaned longer and higher, your fingers gripping the desk so hard it was hurtful.

"Look at you...", James groaned as spreading your ass to admire the view, "my cock is stretching your high pussy...you're so desperate for me...so wet for my cock". You whined hard and moved your body, fucking yourself against his cock. You desperately wanted to come since you felt you were over the edge. But James stopped when he felt your moves and slapped you again. You groaned low with an erotic moan.

"I command sweetheart...", he whispered with a strong tone, letting you know who was commanding again. His hand ran along your back, spreading the sweat drops that started to appear on your skin. You simply nodded and waited for your issuance. James hand went on his exploration as he thrusted very slow into you until this hand pushed you against him. Your back hit his chest and his strong inked arm wrapped around you to keep you there.

And now James gave you what you wanted. He started to ram into you, frantically. His pelvis hit your butt in harsh moves and this was providing good sensations too with his dick thrusting hard and deeper into you like this.

"Hold...on me...baby", he panted hard and you tried to hold on him the best you can to not fall.

"Oh my god yes...fuck me please", you begged as feeling a strong and powerful bund of energy blowing inside your lower belly, announcing your close orgasm. "I'm gonna cum", you panted and your eyes rolled back behind your eyes.

"Come on my cock baby, do it", James helped you with his dirty talk as going faster, the faster he could, gripping your both arms from behind to slam more inside you until he felt you losing control. He caught you before you fell and didn't stop moving until you finished to cum.

You moaned loud, gasping and mumbling incoherent words such as "fuck me", "feels good". Your bit your lips so hard that you hurt yourself but you didn't care. The pleasure invading you was beyond any you've experienced before. Your pussy contracted around his dick and James groaned, feeling he could be closer too.

He gave you one last deep pound that made you scream loud one last time before falling on the desk. You took your breath the best you can as he kept moving slowly inside you, working on his own orgasm now. Your pussy were more sensitive and tight and this felt good on his dick.

"Where do you want me to cum baby?", he asked as placing his palm on your butt, keeping the track. You turned your head over and looked at him with a mischievous grin.

"Inside me please...cum inside me", you asked as opening your ass cheeks for him. James moaned at the view and helped you, placing his hands on yours.

"I'm gonna cum... inside your pretty pussy", he said as his head fell back, feeling the fire coming inside him. He felt it blowing inside his lower belly and he closed his eyes to abandon himself at this pleasure he was feeling. He heard your moans and whines while he pounded a few more times before he felt this was the time. He stopped and let it go.

"Fucking god...", he groaned loud, with a deep manly grunt as his fingers gripped your butt cheeks skin harder, spreading them open as he poured in his load inside you. You moaned in return, feeling his hot cum and smiling big. You were still having the delicious effects of your orgasm running through your veins.

"Fuck...", James groaned again as pulling off from you in a move, carefully to not hurt you and just stood there, looking at his cum going out of your pussy. You looked over and caught his lustful glance. You grinned and bite your lip, as feeling his load coming out your pussy to glide along your swollen lips. He slapped your butt one last time, enjoying it and so did you. You saw his chest raising slowly as he caught his breath.

"Oh my god...", you said in a gasp as taking back a normal position. Your legs and arms were completely sore but you stretched a little to ease it. James quickly pulled on his boxer and jeans while you moved back your skirt on your hips to cover you. You had no idea where your panties was...

"My personal assistant should be wrong more often", James suggested as taking your hand to pull you against his chest. You accepted the gesture even if you never expected sucked kindness and aftercare after this intense sex you had. You giggled as well, gently snapping his chest.

"I was right Mister Hetfield ! You were the one who was wrong. And you better accept it now that I proved it to you", you grinned, happy to finally have the last word on this story. But it was worth it...

AN : Thank you anon for this perfect ask ! <3 I love this kind of idea, even more with current James who fits perfectly for this! I hope you'll enjoy this, cause I really had fun and as you'll see, I couldn't stop writing lol!

#james hetfield #papa het #james hetfield x oc #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield smut #sweet lord never expected this to be so damn hot #current james #but something took control of me I guess #I hope you'll love it my beloved readers #this was long than expected but it was needed #request5 #5

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wishcamper · 2 months

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All in the Family Part III: Feyre the Harbinger

Pre-reqs: Part I | Part II

No content warnings, just some minor Mor slander.

Welcome back to my series on ACOTAR and Family Systems Theory! Today’s topic is how systems react to change, generational patterns, and special considerations in family integration.

When we last left off, we discussed the IC family system that, while dysfunctional, maintained relative balance as long as everyone played their roles in the nuclear family emotional process (NEFP). As a refreshers, the NEFP is how anxiety moves through a family:

Mor feels anxiety about Az's feelings for her, and she passes it off to the boys. Cassian steps in the middle of the conflict at Mor’s unconscious request and takes inappropriate responsibility for Azriel’s feelings of rejection and Mor’s anxiety. Thus Mor doesn’t have to deal with her emotions and Azriel suppresses his feelings once more. Everyone plays their part, and balance is restored until the cycle starts again.

Now we’re going to talk about how Feyre is a harbinger of change for the IC’s dynamic. Let’s look at the IC pre-Feyre:

So let’s think about how Feyre enters the IC. She and Mor develop a friendship, and Cassian treats her with affection like he does Mor, though without all the touching. Azriel seems to like her well enough. Amren is Amren. And Rhysie boy is OBSESSED with her and will never side with anyone against her. Feyre has power over Mor, Azriel, and Cassian when she becomes High Lady, but she also has power because of her relationship with Rhys, the most powerful person in the family. What will this do to our system?

Mor, girl, you good?

I’ve added some new lines to represent the significant changes once Feyre enters the scene. The big gold blob between Feyre and Rhys is to represent their mating bond, which is canonically a stronger and more important relationship than all others. In this system, it’s the most significant relationship and the alliance that wields the most power. If Feyre and Rhys agree on something, it will be done.

The pink arrow between Feyre and Mor represents what to me is the compensating balance to the system. Mor develops a friendship with Feyre because that’s what keeps everything in harmony. She approaches Feyre with much more interested than we ever see toward Nesta or Elain, even when they're both in the arguably identical position of being romantically involved with her brothers.

And that, to me, is odd. Especially considering how Feyre first enters the system as opposed to her sisters.

Imagine this: your beloved family members returns home after having been held as a prisoner and the first thing he says when he sees you is how he fell in love with some girl. Excuse me???? Putting aside the fact that Rhys trapped his friends in Velaris against their will for the good of the city (arguably the same situation he was in UTM), wouldn’t you be a little put out? No hi hello I love you nice to see you, just she’s my fucking mate? I’m sorry sir but, who??!?!?!?!

Nevertheless, Rhys returns to his family saying he’s met the love of his life, and suddenly this person even before she’s present holds a great deal of power in the system. Rhys’ closest relationship is no longer Mor, it’s Feyre.

Remember that Mor is the most likely source of anxiety in the family. This displacement really unbalances her, I think, removing the moderating presence between her, Cassian and Azriel. So what do we see her do? Throw in hard for Feyre. IMMEDIATELY she tries to get Feyre alone to start establishing a relationship with her new symbolic mommybestie.

We also see her hanging out with the other two boys a lot, together or just Cassian alone. I have to wonder if that was the norm before, or what changed when Rhys was UTM. Now that Rhys is absorbed in Feyre, Mor is using that buffer in earnest. Without Rhys to balance them, she pingpongs between Cassian and Azriel through a lot of ACOMAF, enough so that Feyre, who just met them, notices it on several occasions.

And this is not to downplay that Mor likes Feyre and they’re genuine friends. I’m more so saying that even if Mor disliked Feyre, it’s not likely she would’ve made that public. She needs her relationship with Rhys to be strong enough to justify her place because of the anxiety she brings to the system. The way to stay chill with Rhys is to stay chill with Feyre. We see that over and over and over.

Thankfully (?), Feyre is more than ready to integrate into the existing system. In fact, she reinforces Rhys’ power and acts as another moderator between everyone. She notices the weird Mor/Cas/Az triangle but has no outward reaction to it, doesn't even bring it up to Mor who is supposedly her friend, which in the sense of the system is accepting and condoning it to continue. She doesn’t question the family rules or interrupt the NEFP. Feyre generally wants everyone to get along all throughout the series. Do we ever see her disagree with anyone besides Rhys? Because I genuinely can’t remember her in an argument with anyone in her family besides him and her sisters.

So in summary:

Feyre temporarily unbalances the system by diverting a huge amount of Rhys’ attention and care.

The system rebalances though Feyre and Mor’s friendship and Feyre’s tacit endorsement of the IC’s rules, the power structure, and the NEFP regarding the buffer triangle.

Feyre's entry reveals the weak points in the system, like the buffer, as well as the HUGE dependence on Rhys as a moderator for everyone else. This sets the stage for the Archeron invasion to take the whole thing down.

Let’s talk a little about family rules before we wrap up.

All families have rules, some spoken and most unspoken. Rules can be things like we always have dinner together, throwing things when you’re mad is not allowed, children have to wear helmets when they ride bikes. They can also be things like don’t tell outsiders our business, do whatever dad says when he’s drunk, don’t show your feelings ever. The IC has some rules I want to highlight, one being: don’t bring home a love interest.

In all the 500 years, why are all these kids still single? We never hear of any long-term relationships of any significance until ACOSF. None of them have partners or lovers worth naming. What the hell? Is the mating bond that sacred, even though it's so rare, that you assume you'll fuck around until you hopefully find it? Personally, I don't believe people work that way. I think we crave companionship and love that we don't get from our families. There's between an 81-86% chance you will be married at some point in your life, and I know America isn't Prythian but it feels against the odds that ALL of them are unpartnered without some other explicit reason why.

The important thing to remember is that all rules have a source point, like those laws that say don’t drive with an alligator in your car or whatever. Someone did this thing once and it was bad, so don’t do it again. Often the source point goes back many many generations, but with the IC I think it’s what happened between Mor and Cassian when they were seventeen. Love in the friends group = bad. So let's never talk about it again, until these three fuckin' humans show up and goddamnit we have to.

And that’s what you missed on Glee!

#prythian university #acotar #feysand #morrigan #the buffer #family systems #you say overanalyze i say reveal the majesty of infinite layers #sjm critical #inner circle critical

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synnlyrose · 4 months

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Pretty Toes 🩶 (Pt 1????)

Levi has a foot fetish....

Implied future sexual relationship between Levi and Y/n

Captain/Cadet Dynamics, age gap, Y/n is 24.

Part Two Maybe 🤔

MDNI :)

It was rare but Captain Levi had ordered his team to take the day off and relax. We had found ourselves down by a lake. The sun was high and bright in the sky. Some of us, including me had already found our way into the clear blue water. It was refreshing & aided in cooling down our hot, sweaty and achybodies. Everyone was at ease for what felt like the first time in a long time. Jean had managed to get his arms around my waist and was getting ready to toss me into the chest deep water.

"Jean! Ple-" I squealed with a loud giggle as I felt my body being tossed for a moment before water engulfed me, wetting my hair. I insisted I didn't want to get wet. I stayed underneath the water for a moment before my head emerged. Jean was laughing hysterically, along with Connie and Sasha. "You're so dead!" I yelled back playfully as I moved through the water getting ready to tackle him. "Awe, what's the matter Y/n?" Jean laughed as he moved about the water trying to run from me.

We continued to play like children for a few hours, our loud laughs and screams could be heard from all around. It was almost as if we'd forgotten about the reality in which we faced.

The sun was still high, but it had moved. It had to have been at least 3 in the afternoon. I found myself completely relaxed. I was sitting in the shallow end just letting the waves lightly rock my body. I glaced around at the other soldiers enjoying themselves and I smiled to myself. It was nice to see everyone having a good time. I then, looked to the beach, my eyes falling on Captain Levi. He had taken his jacket off and hung it on a near by tree and was cleaning is ODM gear, per usual. He seemed content in doing this. Every now and then his eyes would shoot up, his face expressionless as he monitored his scouts, before going back to cleaning his blades. I watched him for a moment or two longer before I got up. I found my towel in my bag and wrapped it around my body as I made my over to him.

"Hey Captain." I said with a small smile on my face. Levi froze for a moment, not looking up. His voice was monotoned as normal when he addressed me. "Hello Y/n." He said, he was fixated on running a damp rag across his blades. "Something I can help you with?" He further asked.

"No, sir. I just thought I'd come check on you." I expressed while watching him clean. My words caused Levi to freeze for a moment, his eyes moving from his gear to my feet- and his breath hitched in the slighest. His eyes didn't leave my feet for a long moment and I could see his Adam's Apple bob as he swallowed. There was a small but noticeable blush that crossed his cheeks as he cleared this throat. "Your feet are dirty." Levi exclaimed, with a low throaty growl, he eyes still locked on my feet.

I looked down in confusion at my feet, wiggling my toes a bit. He was right, they were a bit dirty. They were covered in water, sand, and some grass. "Ah, yes Captain. I suppose they are a bit dirty." I agreed with a small chuckle and subtle nod of my head. I was confused as to why this would be something Levi brought to light, but I didn't really push it.

"Clean them." Levi expressed, in a sharp demanding tone and he reached into his satchel and produced a clean rag. Hie eyes left my feet for only a brief second to meet my eyes as he held out the rag. I looked back at him, trying to hide the bit of confusion that crossed my face. I was taken aback by his sudden command and I cautiously reached out and took the rag from him.

"O-kay..." I said a bit awkwardly- but I removed my towel anyway, exposing the fact that I was in my undershirt and underwear, still very much damp from the water I was in. I took a moment spread the towel out and took a seat, I looked down at my feet, flexing my toes just a little. I heard Levi take a sharp inhale the moment my toes began to wiggle. It wasn't unnoticed as I glanced over at him. "Is everything alright, Captain?" I asked tilting my head at him, the look I gave him was innocent in nature, but still held a bit of curiosity.

Levi cleared this throat once more, "Yes. Everything is fine. Just do as your told and clean your feet." Levi said in a harsh whisper and that's when I realized.

Captain Levi Ackerman has a thing for feet.

This revelation had me blushing and curious all at the same time. I stared at him as his eyes shot up to meet mine for a moment before he looked back down, this time slowly trailing his eyes over my legs, down to my feet. To further confirm this suspicion. I flexed my foot just a little, closely watching his reaction from the corner of my eye. Levi shifted a bit in his sitting position crossing his legs a little harder. His body went stiff and his breathing was getting heavier.

"Your feet Cadet. Clean them." He reminded in a clean husky tone- one that didn't leave room for any argument.

"Yes, sir." I said softly. I couldn't help the small smirk that formed of my face while reaching forward to run the rag across my foot, collecting the debris from it. I kept Levi in my peripheral. His eyes were trained on my feet, like he had abandoned the idea of cleaning his gear all together. He licked his lips slightly as I finished cleaning off one of my feet. Since I had caught on to what was happening, I decided to tease him innocently. I turned a little bit, and I extended my foot out towards him. "Like this, Captain?" I asked playing dumb. I held my foot right in front of his face, wiggling my toes in the slighest.

I heard Levi take a deep breath, and he shifted again, leaning back against the tree a little. He was so absorbed in looking at my foot. His breathing had increased drastically and it looked like he was struggling to speak. "You...missed some dirt..." He exhaled, taking my foot into his hand, by the ankle with out hesitation, my breath actually caught a little. I wasn't expecting him to touch me. His calloused fingers gripped my foot softly as he reached for the rag and started wiping the dirt that I missed from in between my toes.

Levi was throughout. He took his time, making sure to get every last bit of debris from my foot. He looked like he was enjoying himself, a little too much. He didn't actually look at me as he did this, his focus was solely on my foot. (Pun definitely intended.)

I couldn't help but giggle a little, from both the light tickling sensation and the fact that Levi had become flustered. I glanced down noticing the fact that his pants had gotten a bit tighter in the thigh area. I was turning the stoic captain on. When he was done, he held my foot in his hand a bit longer, inspecting it. "There." He said with a strained breathless sigh. His eyes locked with mine for a minute. The lust in his eyes was undeniable. He clutched the rag in his hand, and motioned for my other foot which was still quite dirty. I didn't hesitate as I brought it to his hand.

Levi had taken my other foot, and also began wiping it down. His concentration was set on cleaning my foot and he didn't miss and inch. He cleaned in between my toes, the sole, my ankle and the top of my foot. Slowly, wiping the dirt away. I noticed him getting harder and harder by the second. When it was said and done, Levi sat back. His eyes locked on mine again and he licked his lips. Slowly, he leaned forward, grabbing my other foot, and placing them in his lap, nonchalantly. He stared down at them hungrily for a moment before he spoke again, his voice matching his lustful expression.

"You have such pretty feet, my dear." His voice hit my ear in such a way that is sent a shock wave of arsoual right though me. His pet name was soft and definitely not expected. His hand moved to encase the top of my foot, his finger running along the soft skin. "Feet like these shouldn't be used for killing Titans." He further growled, his nail racking over my ankle.

I was a little taken by his sudden forwardness and clear desire. I never expected Levi to be so open with his desire, especially with everyone so near. I had to give a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, as my stomach started to flip in excitement. Thankfully, not a single soul was paying us any mind. "Thank you." I said softly. There was a soft plopping sound that could be heard as Levi let my foot drop back into his lap. He let out a low breath and he looked up at me. I stared back at him, my eyes wide with my own look a selfish desires and Levi lips curled into a smirk.

"You know what I want, don't you Y/n?" Levi teased in a low alluring whisper, his hand going back down to rub my foot, his fingers tracing over my sole, making me giggle a bit from the tickling sensation. "I think I do, Captain." I answered him just as seductively. "Good, my dear then we have an understanding. Meet me in my tent tonight? And make sure your feet are clean." Levi further instructed.

I nodded my head in understanding, giving a small "Yes, Sir." Levi smiled to himself and gently patted my feet, as if indicating for me to move my feet. I did, but it stop me from looking at the clear bulge that was so harshly pressed up against his slacks. I bit my lip in pure excitement as I thought about what might come tonight when I slipped into Levi's tent. And suddenly, the sun couldn't set fast enough.

#smut writer #levi ackerman smut #levi smut #levi ackerman #levi aot #aot x reader #aot smut #fanfic #levi x reader

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miss0atae · 1 month

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Random thoughts about Jazz for Two the series episode 1 and 2:

I was a bit wary to watch this series. Let me explain, I really liked A Shoulder to Cry On at first and thought it was a refreshing coming-of-age little series, but ultimately I felt disappointed by the end of the series. I was invested in their love story, but the end left a sour taste which tainted my liking for this series. I believe it's not because the actors are bad because they played well and the story was convincing. I would say my problem is using Korean idols to play in QL stories. There are too many things they can't do because of their job and it usually has an impact on the QL series they play in (such as having a simple kiss, which I know doesn't always need to happen in a relationship.) So when I saw it was again idols playing and the director was the same, I wasn't sure I would like it.

I didn't even watch the trailer. I read the synopsis and decided that I should try it anyway and see how it goes. After all the saying "never judge a book by its cover" remains really true.

The first two episodes introduced us to the main fourth character and their dynamics:

▪️ Seo Heon, the child from the gifted classical musicians family who struggles to find his place for several reasons. He is not as talented as his brother or father (which I believe is not really true) and he is more interested in jazz music despite knowing his father wouldn't like it. He is cute. His love for jazz makes him interesting. I guess his complicated relationship with his father will have a big impact as he is hiding his love for jazz music and his father doesn't seem to appreciate anything that is not "classical" music and he is dismissing See Hoon's talent.

▪️ Tae Yi, the brooding tall trumpet player who seems to be sad all the time. He lost a dear person who was also a pianist and seems to struggle with the lost. In some way, he made me think of Seo Jae Won from The Eight Sense who had also trauma from losing a loved one. He seems to walk in life in zombie mode and his walls are so high it will take time to go behind them. I'm guessing he is protecting himself by acting this way. Seo Heon reminds him a lot of his lost friend/lover (still not sure about this) and it's very troubling for him.

▪️Do Yoon is a drummer. He is cheerful and easy-going. He is also friends with Tae Yi. I love his hair colour, this dark black blue shade is really good. It seems he has something going on with Joo Ha but it's so very subtle. I may be overthinking. I felt there was a tension between them when they were playing basketball but also in the first scene when we are introduced to Joo Ha. Without reading more info about the series, I imagine they are the second couple. As for now, Do Yoon is my favourite character. I like this kind of character.

▪️Finally, we get to know about Joo Ha. What we know is that he was suspended and just came back to school. He is a senior to Do Yoon and Tae Yi and also his sister fancies Tae Yi which is something he doesn't like. Joo Ha is the bad boy of the story and never misses a chance to threaten his juniors. I'm a sucker for a bad boy romance with a nice guy such as Do Yoon, so let me say that I'm on board if they make them be together. As for now, he just noticed Seo Hoon and he will probably get in the middle of Tae Yi and Seo Hoon's relationship even if nothing has really started between them, yet. It will just be a way of pissing Tae Yi off. Joo Ha has a strong animosity for Tae Yi so everything is a good reason to annoy him.

I have to admit, I liked these two first episodes. It's not too short, we got a lot of information but we still have to see how it will go in the story. It makes you want to know what will happen and the trailer for the next episode is intriguing. I will be there to watch the next episodes. It is worth watching it. Oh, and everyone knows it, but the two main actors of A Shoulder to Cry On make a cameo in the first episode.

#my thoughts #random thoughts #korean bl #korean drama #bl drama #bl series #Jazz for two the series #jazz for two #a shoulder to cry on #episode 1 #episode 2 #jazz for two spoilers

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armoricaroyalty · 9 months

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what's something you'd like to see more of on royal simblr?

Great question, me! There's a number of things I'd love to see more often in the royal simblr community, such as:

More non-western influences and royals. European monarchies are the most accessible to English-speaking westerners, but in the modern day, most monarchical systems exist in Africa, the Middle East, and Southeast Asia. I can only think of a few royal Simblrs that are meant to have non-Western settings--I'm sure there are more that I'm not aware of, so I'd love recommendations on that front!

More stylistic diversity. @warwickroyals touched on this in her answer to this question, but there is a prevailing style for women on royal simblr, which is very classically feminine with a lot of dainty features and soft pastels. I'd love to see more people try to differentiate their characters a bit more in terms of silhouette and personal style. I think there were some royal simblr fashion police a few years ago who sent rude messages to people who broke "the rules" of royal dress, and I think that's had a bit of a stifling effect on the community. Even if you give your royals strict dress codes, I think there's a lot of room to play around and experiment within those parameters. For example, I was actually watching that Prince Philip doc produced by the royal family after his death, and I was struck by how distinctly all the women dressed. Princess Anne was in jeans and a blazer, Zara Tindall was wearing a sleek skirt suit, Beatrice and Eugenie were wearing flowy floral dresses...there's a lot of ways to be polished and stylish while still expressing individual style, so I'd love to see some of that on simblr.

More diversity, just in general. I'm not going to pretend I'm not also guilty of this, but royal simblr is very white, very able-bodied, very cisgender and heterosexual, very thin, and very conventionally beautiful by western standards. There's no reason why made-up countries with made-up histories should follow all the patterns and prejudices of the real world, so it'd be nice to see more of a range of types. I love my beautiful, icy brunettes as much as the next person (you will pry Rosalind from my cold, dead hands) but it'd be great to see more representation of different types of people.

More interesting men. This is one that's a lot more subjective, but I feel like there is a general tendency toward blandness when it comes to male characters on royal simblr. Speaking very broadly, the menfolk tend to be either irredeemable dumpster creatures OR perfect husbands and fathers who wait patiently for their "messy" love interests to realize that he's the man of their dreams. I don't think there's anything wrong with either of these things in a vacuum (and there's tons of stories that I really enjoy that make use of those archetypes), but I feel like there are some missed opportunities for more interesting and dynamic male characters, especially as love interests. For me personally, it's hard to get invested in a romance where one or both parties is certifiably Nice (tm) without any other defining character traits.

Anyway, all this to say that these are really broad trends, and I'm sure you could cite strong counterexamples for each OR point out places where I've fallen into the same patterns. But in general, those are the community-wide tropes that I think could use the most refreshing.

#armorica asks #hormelfoods #is it corny to send yourself asks?#probably! consider: i dont care

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dokidokitsuna · 2 months

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(mild spoilers ahead) I finally finished my first run of Side Order! DX Tbh, I haven't had that much time to play lately, but I'm still kind of ashamed that it took me this long...^^;

...I'm also ashamed that the boss that killed me on both failed runs, Asynchronous Rondo, didn't show up on the run where I finally succeeded. So it feels like I didn't really "earn" the victory, which is a little frustrating...I'm sure I'll handle it next time, though. *knocks on wood*

Overall, I would rate Side Order a 10/10. ^^ It's simple, but it works.

The theming and atmosphere is very polished and immersive-- tbh I was convinced as soon as I saw the little animation when you step into the cage at the beginning of a level, and it SNAPS shut kinda violently, just enough to sell that oppressive vibe. ^^; It's those little aesthetic details that make Splatoon special...I can't think of another game that does that as successfully.

The gameplay itself is harsh, but fair. Every time I screwed up and lost a life (or failed a run...) I never felt like it was the game's fault; it was always in a moment where I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings or my ink levels...and conversely, when I made sure to pay attention to those things, I always did well. Basically, it feels just difficult enough to reward you for staying focused. I also think the design of gaining power-ups as you go (including dropped items in-level) was a great move for this game mode-- not only does it make gameplay feel rewarding by its very nature, but it makes it stand out from the rest of Splatoon's game modes, where things like specials and extra ink are treated more like precious rarities; things you shouldn't use until you really need them. On the contrary, in Side Order I really let loose with Splashdowns and Inkstrikes for the first time...ever, actually. ^^ Like, I've gained an appreciation for specials now, after being trained to do without them for so long. It makes battle feel refreshing and dynamic~.

Finally, I'm glad they actually filled the game up with relevant goodies to collect. ^^ Palettes, color chips, Marina's diary entries, Cipher's merchandise, even hint-descriptions for the chips and enemies...when they said Side Order was designed to be replayable, they weren't kidding. My completionist instinct is already champing at the bit to accomplish as much as I possibly can...this is one of the main things that was missing from Return of the Mammalians, in my opinion. In RotM there are collectibles, but half of them are just objects lying around on the ground-- if you wanna 100% the game mode, you better count on spending a very dull hour inking the map to try and dig them all up. And once you're done...hurray, I guess?? You found all the meaningless trinkets... :/ Then the other half is just replaying the meaningless missions with multiple weapons...which isn't a very engaging challenge. Despite being more complex than Side Order's floors, they're much more linear-- you basically just do the same thing three times, and either it's embarrassingly easy or frustratingly tedious. I think the main reason I still haven't done them all is because I just can't be bothered: what's the point in trying to replay an annoying mission when the only difference in the gameplay is that it'll take a little longer to move and shoot...? So I can get rewarded with a tiny checkmark...? No thanks...

With Side Order, on the other hand, the collectibles either flesh out the characters or affect the gameplay (or in the case of the locker decorations, actually look nice), and the sheer randomness of the experience keeps things fresh. ^^ No two runs are alike; the simple objectives paired with creative map designs invite a variety of approaches even with the same weapon, and even on the easiest difficulties. The game itself encourages you to roll with the punches, strategize with what you're given and get creative, which not only makes replays exciting and interesting, but fits perfectly with the story's message. Like I said, 10/10~

#splatoon #musings #side order #side order spoilers

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ravenwitch45 · 11 months

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Imagine if you paired up the I.M.P. trio (Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie) with the Murder Drones trio (J, V, N). What would that look like to you?

Oh wow Murder Drones isn't something I've heard in a while XP But this is an interesting idea so I did my due deligence and rewatched the pilot for a refresher on J, V, and N's characters so I could do my best, still haven't really watched the other... three episodes I think that are out at the moment so If I go against a detail in those that's why.

Let's get the obvious out of the way, and say that these six would easily kill anyone they want with minimal effort, Moxxie is precise and knows how to work mostly any weopon, same for Blitz but is more chaotic in his fighting style, he has a rocket launcher for hell's sakes after all, and Millie is pratically a tornado of blades to anyone who get's close to her, The Murder Drones have their bladed wings and hands, which can also transform to a multititude of weapons, not to mention their tails, which I'm not sure if it'd work on non robots, but still it's corosive acid. All in all, these six have the arsenal and skill level of a small army, so noone is safe :) Now for the fun part, character interactions! All in all I feel the most general ones each would attach to quickly would be, Blitz with J, Millie with V, and Moxxie with N. Blitz and J are both pretty bossy and merciless when they want to be, J is a bit worse when it comes to treating her teammates right but I still think they'd get along initially. V and Millie of course go absolutely beserk in combat, well also having a pretty nice personallity outside of it, All I feel Millie would be so in awe of the Murder Drones features. N and Moxxie are of course the most mild mannered of their teams, most eager to talk and understand, while also being the most antagonized for the most part so I'd feel they'd relate to eachother.

But also after a bit more time I think they'd get to like the others too, N's almost comical mention of repressing memories would have Blitz just go "Big fucking mood" and I also think they'd play off eachother nicely with their comedic approach to combat at times, (N licking V's blades to freak her out and saying she hopes it's not too hard to repress, and Blitz's deep "Who want's some quality time with Daddy~?") Both just enjoying themselves. Millie is just friendly over all and would be friendly with all of them, so not sure how'd she sync up with N and J exactly, but Moxxie and J could probably relate on how there kinda the one with the braincell at times, they strategise after all. I think there would be some awkwardness with J's willingness to kill her teammates, but I still think there would be a nice dynamic for a time.

Overall two teams all too famliar with murder, who I think would get along pretty well, and fight together well too. Meanwhile Loona and Uzi are just being edgy teenagers on the side XP

#ask reply #helluva boss #murder drones #blitzo #helluva moxxie #helluva millie #md n #md j #md v

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skilledsmoker · 7 months

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Replaying Mother 3 for I think the 3rd time? My first playthrough was fucked up I was 13 and I think I lost my save lol. I’m gonna be shouting my thoughts and analyses into the void as I really wanna get back into writing and this game is my biggest creative inspiration so what better place to start!

Starting with Chapter 1, I really appreciate the inclusion of a character like Duster. A well meaning shut-in with unconventional skills that could be seen as lazy or someone who can't pull their own weight in a more rudimentary society. We all know how complicated Wes and Duster’s relationship is, Wes is a generally disliked character in the Mother Fandom for pretty good reason but I do believe that he does, in fact, love his son and their relationship is pretty scarily realistic to a lot of Son and Father dynamics I’ve seen in person. Duster listens to the insults and takes the abuse and does as he’s told, he doesn’t really have much else to do and doesn’t really know anyone else well enough to help change his lifestyle. It's easy to sympathize with someone in a situation like that, although in all likelihood, most people don't really know what Dusters life is like as he's practically nocturnal.

It’s really nice to see “late bloomer” characters. Characters that don’t really hit their stride until later in their lives and reach heights they never thought they were completely capable of. It’s never too late to do what you want to do and everyone figures it out differently, even if you lose your memory TWICE. It’s extremely refreshing to see normal Rpg party conventions broken continuously in Mother 3 and I think Duster is the most notable example. In traditional rpgs and tabletop games, Thief's and Rouges are normally silver tongued bandits who pick locks and hide in the shadows. Duster does all that for sure, but he is also Just A Guy and a pretty swell one at that, ready to help those he cares about without a moments notice. The thief arts are pretty fuckin cool and a lot of his abilities are really unique, his wall staples are something that pop into my head a good bit whenever I see an unclimbable terrain when I go on walks and hikes.

He goes from well meaning but reclusive thief to a famous musician and invaluable member to Lucas’s group, completely necessary in saving the world. He does all of this with a physical disadvantage but doesn’t give up, doesn’t really make an excuse out of it besides his introduction to Flint which is more of a general statement. He also has to actually LEARN to play Bass and it takes 3 years to do so, but he does! Even though it’s really hard! It’s so insanely nice and good to see him come alive and change his life for the better and to be taken in by the group without question. If Duster can do it we can too!

#ramblings #text post #character study??? idk i've never done something like that before lol #mother 3

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squeiky · 2 years

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Why I love sonadow

(Haven't talked about/posted about my love of sonic on this blog but go figures I'd write about my fav ship first before literally anything else-)

So this is mostly a ramble, but I a few points to make on why exactly why I love this ship and just basically rambling about every little details that make the ship so lovable in the first place.

So for starters, I love this ship, and I'm willing to sail on it till it sinks. I find their dynamic quite entertaining as the two work as a competitive duo, have a really nice dynamic, and the two are pretty similar in terms of ideals and the fact that it's very much hammered in that shadow is one, if not maybe the only one, who is only equal playing field with sonic. I find that it's very refreshing to see someone who isn't always left behind his trail, and can actually keep up and even RIVAL that of sonic.

After the events of SA2 what started my true love for this ship statted to form. It was during the very final ending. (Of course the small seeds of banter and how sonic would influence shadow to slowly becoming his best self as well as shadow slowly gaining respect for the blue blur also made me love it-but this is what got me on board y'know?)

-I remember the fight where sonic and shadow team up to defeat the bio-lizard and I loved the cute little lines the two shared during the battle.

Sonic's little "are you okay?" And "you need rest! Let me handle this!" lines are just so wholesome- it's just a cute detail that I feel gets overlooked. You usually don't see these sides of sonic anymore, and it's so hilarious that he's saying this all while shadow is too busy monolouging- it's so sweet.

I find it very endearing that even though he should be focusing on defeating the bio-lizard like shadow is, he just spends his time worrying about shadows wellbeing. (Shadow does the same for sonic, just less often.)

Also, during the sonic q&a shadow's treasured moments is of sonic attempting to save him which I find also very endearing. (Sonic's reaction was also very cute.) Though the topic of sonadow was brought up and them immediately dismissed made me feel really sad, but I'm okay with that fact anyhow as I can understand why.

Theres also that one poster of shadow and sonic being a "swashbuckling duo" which I know everyone thinks about the "swashbuckling" part but they all skip over the "duo." Like, it's just those 2. There is a reality where these 2 are together, not only as pirates (MY FLAG MEANS DEATH-) but as a DUO??! Meaning not only are they working together on a LITERAL SHIP, but also- they are known to go swashbuckling adventures together. Also shadow is the captain and I can't state it enough how I love the fact that THIS IS A THINGGGG!!!!

(I know this is far fetched, but let's be real- the only pirates that exist in the sonic games are sonic rush. Hey, if there's 2 versions of sonic why not make it 3?)

Also, let's not forget sonic's "looking out the window scenes" and the his talk with Rouge about shadow (he called him a hero, and honestly that is the sweetest most saddest thing I've heard in very in a very long time), as well as his "sayonra shadow the hedgehog"

Rouge spent more time with shadow than sonic so understanbly she'd understand sonics sadness as these 2 have spent more time with shadow than anyone else (I'm not counting eggman, he is an enabler and helped lead shadow down a self-destrutive and literally destructive path. He doesn't count, not ever will he count.)

It's just Sonics tiny gestures of greif, like looking out through that window, the Sayanora when no one was around, the small "are you okay?" ,and sassy banter between the two is just so sweet, fun and entertaining to see.

(This is a bit more on shadow but I feel it's a necessary part into understanding why this works so well-)

Also, shadow's writing has been fluctuating in quality almost as much as sega's own games. It's safe to assume the consensus that shadow is the "angry edgelord who hates sonic for some random reason and always fights him beacuse bla bla bla" isn't very true and I feel like that idea is what really makes this ship weird for some other people. (Or it's just not the type of ship they'd like, which is fine by me.)

Shadow, to put it simple.. is a very compassionate character with a lot of trauma put on him. He didn't know how to handle/process that trauma, and spending like what? 50 years, trapped in an isolated cell, unaging, left alone with no one to help him escape, getting your memories tampered with, having your ego fed with the "ultimate lifeform" stuff, as well as having noway to talk, cope, or even process the fact that your best freind- the only person that has (to my knowledge) treated you like an actuall conscious being, that isn't a weapon or some science project to get some cure- just got murdered by you guessed it! Humans! Not to mention the leader of the "humans" aka the government led this???!!

It puts a pretty sour taste in your mouth if you ask me.

So when I see the edgelord shit really ticks me off. Beacuse at the end of it all, shadow isn't really sonic's rival (even that one Lego sonic spinoff game literally refers to shadow as sonic's "freind" along with amy, knuckles and tails like come ON people!!) He's just another one of his freinds.

Besides, shadows been through about mabye 3 whole identity crisises? Which in my book is more than enough for shadow to either be gay or trans(cis or not) and honestly it's quite fitting.

Not to mention, as a mlp fan, I have to say.. the amount of comparisons I can make to blue gay pony and the blue maybe gay hedgehog is far to many. (I mean for crying out loud- the chaos emeralds are literally the colors of the rainbow, and sonic is about a few furry points away from shoots rainbow lasers at his enemy's yknow?)

(Also the soundrack escape the city has "follow my rainbow" lyrics randomly in that track, and so I cant unhear/unsee the idea of like- running away from you home beacuse your not accepted or whatever- and it's all like "follow me" and "set me free" and what not and it just *chef kiss*! Like, yah foo! "Set me free" from the realityy~~ so we can bee togetherrr foreverrr~~?? Or somethimg??)

Also to drive this thing home, sonic is literally shadow's adventure.

Though it was thanks to his popularity that allowed him to revive from thy dead, I do think it was an understatement to say that in some ways he didn't have fun around sonic while he was alive.

The whole "faker" stuff was quite a fun banter in my opinion, and sonic is one of the most frequent non-team dark character shadow communicates with.

(Going on about the "faker" stuff: though I don't have any recollection or proof of it, but if shadow has infact called sonic "faker" atleast once, it's actually more endearing than as an insult he tries to pose it as. The whole conversation went as "faker? Your not even good enough to be my fake!" (Which is a hilarious way to say, "no u") so saying that would be admitting that sonic of all creatures has met the guy's standards.. Which I find oddly amusing.)

It's conversations where it's just the two of them (like the iconic "what you see is what you get!" Scene) where I see those cracks in his "too Kool 4 skool" and the "dark, mysterious edgy boy" persona fall.

Though the facade doesn't really start to fall apart until later on in the game (and never gets as far as Rouge and omega do) it's safe to say that makes sonic the 4th (well technically the 2nd or 1st) character that shadow might be okay with letting his guard down around.

I guess there's a part of me that really wants this to work. I like the pining aspect it brings, the angst and well as the wholesome. I like to see shadow happy, and I like to see sonic happy as well. What really got me going is the saying that they're equals in a way. They don't "complete" eachother but they complement eachother in a good way.

They're similar yet different, and their different views of the world can show the other another side, a darker and lighter side to the world they live in. Sonic gives shadow that light and shadow give sonic that dark. Yin & yang.

I don't think they HAVE to be romantic with eachother, I like the idea of it, (mostly beacuse I like picturing them watching late night movies together like the night owls I just know they are!) But them being freindly rivals everynow and then, or just freinds is good enough for me as well. ( I enjoy all sides of this sonadow pizza pie.)

I find it nice that they have this unstoppable duo vibe, like nothing can really take em down when they're together. I like the fact that (don't quote me on this as im sure where I heard it from-) at times it's said that even their thoughts catch up with one another (ADHD headcannon for sonic and ADD for shadoww~) and I find that they're just so in sync it's amusing.

Also I love thinking about sonic being this sassy, talkative, distracted mess of a hedgehog whilst shadow is the dresses to impress, not as talkative and probably hyperfocuses on way to much stuff, secretly a softie, also mess of a hedgehog. Add mess + mess = more mess and I love it! It's like a spaghetti and meatballs! Both make a big mess when handled improperly but when cooked by someone who knows what they're doing, it tastes delicious.

And that's my ted-talk on my little hyperfixation of my favorite ship. I needed to get it out and I hope maybe someone finds this and considers this maybe one of their favorites too!

#sonadow #sonadow mention #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedghog #sonic adventure 2 #sa2 #cw #shadow x sonic #sonic x shadow #shadsoni #long post #squieky talks #rambles #my ships

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seancamerons · 2 months

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I'd love to hear what you love about Zaya, what you'd change about Zaya if you could, what you think Zig and Maya's main differences and similarities are, AND how you think they're similar to and different from Semma :)

okay, i love zaya. i'll admit it was a little too much of a slowburn but it was worth the wait, i know zaya gets a lot of flack for some things that happened but here's what i could do without when it comes to them.

the miles zig and maya triangle was a obvious waste of time. although it gave us zaya as roommates in a domestic setting which i loved, her relationship with miles was a distraction and a cause of a lot of tension in her friendship with zig.

again, what happened with cam leaves a bad impression with a lot of fans, especially ones who shipped cam and maya but i just feel like zig 'gets' maya, and cam didn't always understand maya because he was often in his head. i don't hate cam but i never got invested considering his characters ending. it also makes me mad because i do think zig is a very complicated individual as far as characters go and he showed extreme remorse and not many people see that he genuinely feels sorrow for cam's death, and his role that he may have played when he gave him a hard time out of jealousy.

i guess i wish maya would've realized she like had any kind of feelings for zig that tori's friendship and her loyalty to tori kind of made her question or deny them. she definitely liked him early on and she clearly had no choice at least she didn't think when they did getback together .

and lastly it was very very very ooc for zig to cheat on maya, he loved her waaaay too much for him to do that okay and what happened after their split was messed up how he kinda said some regrettable things, so their big breakup was kind of unnecessary after everything they went through even if cheating is gross i guess that was saying 'she needs time to cool off, and he needs to make sure he needs to be in the right shape to be more mindful, less jealous and find himself but i thought it was super looong but i loved a lot of the scenes they had in between especially in season 3 when she did miss him and what they had, and she kissed him, but not in a romantic sense but in a nostalgic and want for things to be like before she got depressed and all their scenes in redisovering them in season 4 was nice and refreshing that they were planning to have them interact beyond their split and acknowledge their very feel feelings too. zig confessed that it was major wake up call for him when maya tried to take her own life. it was very much a shift in their dynamic post split that makes me believe they're together in 2024, probably roommates but this time in love.

thank-you for the asks!💌 you ask alot of great questions and things i really love digging deep into.

#asks #thedegrassidiaries

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auroraknux · 1 year

Text

I've already complained a lot about the pacing, and how the film suffers because of it. So now I want to switch gears and talk about some of the stuff I did like (it's a long list!). Putting it under a read more, because of spoilers:

Mario being a protective big brother ❤️

Mario calling Luigi "Lu" (it's no "Weegee" or "Weeg", but it's still cute)

"Nothing can hurt us as long as we're together"

The flashback of the baby bros 😭

Luigi being the one to protect Mario at the end

Mario and Luigi's relationship in general is so incredibly sweet and definitely the highlight of the film for me

Peach is a badass, but she's also cute. Which is exactly how I think she should be depicted

Toad is cute and funny, and I wish we could've seen more of his dynamic with Mario and Peach

Mario and Peach's interactions are cute, even if they're rushed

THE MARIO AND LUIGI HUG WJEHEBEJSUUSUDHSHSBSHSHSJSJ IT'S EVEN BETTER THAN THE LM3 HUG I'M 😭 THE FOREHEAD TOUCH AHWEHEHEHDNJE THEY'RE THE BEST SIBLINGS EVER I WOULD DIE FOR THEM

I like Peach's backstory (even if I have a lot of questions about the circumstances surrounding them crowning her princess). I think it's sweet that she became their protector after they raised her. The idea of her possibly being from Mario's world is also very interesting to me. I hope fanfic writers go nuts with that

Mario having daddy issues is kind of a funny concept to me, but also really interesting, and it's something I'd like to see explored more (probably in fanfics)

I love how sweet and supportive their mom is!

Mario and DK's rivalry is fun

CAT MARIO IS SO ADORABLE SJHWHSJJWJJSSJ I LOVE HIM

Luigi 💚 (literally all he has to do is exist and I love him with all my heart and soul)

Lumalee was funny (even if I wish they'd actually done something with the character)

I was disappointed about Peach not actually using the halberd, but she still gets to beat up Bowser, so I'm not complaining too much

Peaches 🍑

The concept of Bowser being able to play piano is something I never realized I needed in my life (definitely need to incorporate it into a future fanfic)

I love the way they incorporated the game mechanics into the worldbuilding. I want to see what they'd do with other stuff, like 1-ups (like we thought we were getting)

The idea of Mario hating mushrooms is funny

Pauline got a cameo at least

The score was great

The DK Rap being included was funny

It's cool to have official versions of Mario's parents (even if they're probably not canon)

Having Charles Martinet voice Mario's dad was a cute touch (and it makes him saying "these are my boys!" at the end really sweet in a meta way)

I actually liked most of the voices. The only one that remotely bothered me was Cranky, because he doesn't sound old enough, but even then I don't really hate it. Yes, I actually came around to Prattio in the end, so fucking sue me (it helps that his performance is better than in the trailers, and you can actually hear the Brooklyn accent now)

The Bowser's Fury theme playing in one part made me so happy because that's one of my favorite Mario games ever

I loved seeing Mario being insecure and scared! It was really refreshing

This might sound weird, but I actually appreciate them not holding back on the violence in some places. The most notable example is during the climax, when Mario is all bruised up from Bowser beating the shit out of him

As I've said before, the animation is absolutely gorgeous. The expressive character animation and the color choices are what really make it shine

The action sequences are so good! Even just Peach doing the training course was mesmerizing

Peach is just...so nice. People were assuming she'd be a stereotypical girlboss that hates men or some crap, but she really isn't. (I never did; I had faith that they'd get her right.) She waits for Mario to complete his training so he can save Luigi, even though there's a looming threat to her kingdom. She lets Mario go with her even though he didn't complete it, and tries to make him feel better about not getting it on the first try. And she's willing to marry someone she hates just to protect her kingdom (and then tricks him and beats him up). I love her 💖

I like how Peach says "my Toads"; it feels like she's saying "my family" (because they are her family, and she'll never let anything happen to them 🩷)

I already mentioned Mario and Luigi's relationship. But one scene that I haven't seen anyone talk about it when they're in Mario's room after their dad rejects him, and Luigi tries to comfort him. Mario is a great brother in this movie, but so is Luigi 💚

As much as I love Mario x Peach, I'm glad they don't try to force the relationship (outside of other characters shipping them, lol). There's not much time for that to happen--partly because of the pacing, but also because they're both focused on stopping Bowser and wouldn't be thinking much about that anyway. I would like to see some romance between them in a potential sequel, but I also want the development of their relationship to feel natural

Mario finding his strength and confidence through his desire to protect the people he cares about 🥰

They did the "So long gay Bowser" tail swing

The character designs are sooooooo good! Mario and Luigi are precious, Peach is pretty, Bowser looks cool, etc. I love how everyone looks! 👌

Luigi's hair 😏

There's probably more I could add here, but I should probably stop before this post becomes ridiculously long lol. Despite the issues I had with this movie, there's still a lot I appreciate about it. And it made me smile and laugh the whole way through, so that makes it good in my book. It's definitely going to be one of my comfort movies from now on.

#mario movie #spoilers #mario movie spoilers #long post

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anzynai · 6 months

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I JUST FINISHED READING ALL THE BOOKS FROM THE GLORIOUS MASQUERADE

and i have some thoughts i’d like to share about it

(keep in mind there are spoilers obv!!)

SO FIRST OF ALL, apologies to that anon who sent me the ask about rollo a few weeks back (i barely knew who rollo was at the time so i didn’t know how to respond) BUT I WILL GET TO U SOON. literally binge read every book starting from FRIDAY. so i’ve been very very busy.

first about my love azul, i love his personality so much. i like how he sticks to it too, like call it selfish (it kinda is) but he doesn’t DO things for no reason. yet, i feel like even as manipulative he seems, he still has his pride. i also enjoy that his personality doesn’t get in the way of caring for his friends. ie. getting jade and floyd the gifts he gave them, especially catering the gift to what they liked. even though, he said he would technically expect something, i can tell he just genuinely cares for them.

despite that, i think it’s also pretty cool that he does THE SAME THING essentially for epel and deuce, even if it’s just to get on their good side. it’s just kinda a “classic azul” kinda scheme and i live for it!!

NOT TO MENTION, how cool he was??? i loved that he got to play such a big part in this event. like, making a deal with deuce for his magic??? SO SMART. love him. being so precise with his magic that malleus compliments him???? beautiful. an added bonus that he got a bit shy ab it too it’s so cute

also, i love how jamil takes every chance he can get to get a dig at azul. people always are like “jamil hates him!!” and all that but jamil always teasing azul suggests otherwise??? its pretty cool. obviously, i dont think its like (realistically speaking) theyre like besties or whatever but they definitely don’t hate each other.

i thought another thing that was nice was azul and idia’s relationship. it’s a strange kind of comfort between each other. idia ALWAYS finds him as some shady guy, but nonetheless, of all the people he would speak to, he seemed most comfortable and talked to azul the most. boards game club rlly helped out with team bonding.

another thing with idia is that i love how antisocial he is because it’s just such a core part of his personality but he makes it work!! yet, he’s not modest at all??? I LOVE THAT. like he knows his worth and it surprised me but i still loved it. like that scene with the exploding rag thingies, he was so proud of himself and had absolutely no shame in asking for compliments because he knew what he did was genius??? love him so much.

I LOVED that part where ruggie and jamil tweaked together to basically use the students from the other schools as human shields LOLL they weren’t lying when they said they were gonna use dirty methods but somehow it feels a bit refreshing knowing it’s not all “kiss and make it better” and then it actually gets better. like ruggie and jamil (two important characters) are not innocent and completely good, yk?? i really love that they did that.

also i adore their dynamic. they’re both so similar and they didn’t know it until this event and i just KNOW they’ll get along amazingly in the future.

i also enjoy jamil’s personality when he’s not around kalim. i really liked this in the first main story, but jamil just seems like this very monotone “do as told” kinda average person whenever he’s near kalim (which makes sense because he’s meant to make kalim shine) but it’s really nice getting to see his real personality away from him (a personality that pairs very well with ruggies and loves to tease others especially azul)

i officially LOVE malleus. i adore that he seems like such a scary guy, but he just wants friends. the way he was marking off the days in his calendar or even prepared a whole performance??? AMAZINF. and how he was so upset because the invitation wasn’t genuine??? like that’s so sweet to me, i don’t know.

also it’s hilarious to me how no one wants to get on his bad side. that one scene where rollo said he didn’t need to talk to rocks and malleus just sent him a glare and he immediately said “i’ll think about it” GOLDEN. or like how idia and azul were a bit cautious because they didn’t want to make him angry. it’s so funny

now, rollo. honestly, i feel like i expected worse. i think his story is really interesting and id like to get more info about it. i find it really cool that rollo and idia actually have a lot in common and idia actually hinted at it quite a few times.

honestly, i think it’s sad how i think rollo genuinely thought he was in the right??? or maybe he doesn’t know what’s right from wrong but there’s so many ways people cope and his was just.. not good for people. but ALSO the flowers don’t kill the people right??? i’m not sure i think it just takes their magical power. not really justifying what he did but i can understand WHY he did it. i really like him and i hope we can see more of him soon.

THATS ALL I HAVE FOR NOW. honestly, don’t really think anyone’s gonna read this but… it’s here anyway?? really enjoyed this event 🙌🙌

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland glorious masquerade #glorious masquerade #jai talks a lot #random jai stuff

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