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solar-wing · 2 months

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⚣ Love's Punishment 🏛️

Prompts Used: @rednsuch – #39 “Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling.” – #13 “Stop being such a brat.”

⚣🏛️ Summary → One may ask what it's like having a God or Goddess for a parent. Honestly, not fun, and Y/N is a perfect example of that considering how he's being punished by his mother. How do you even bring up this level of mommy issues in therapy?

⚣🏛️ Word Count → 6.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🏛️

Daddy issues this, and Daddy issues that.

What about the people who have mommy issues? Because they exist, and Y/N would be shocked if anyone else’s relationship challenges with their mother were similar to his own.

Truthfully, he would never understand or believe the idea that someone could have sex and procreate with a god or goddess and not have one clue. There was no divine light following behind them? No wisps of magic or sparkles. No flowers and bright auras left in their footpaths?

Nothing, not a single clue?

Bullshit.

You may ask yourself, “Y/N, whatever could be wrong with someone having adult fun and having children with a god or goddess?”

Lots of things, actually. There could be an encyclopedia on why that could be a bad idea with lots of consequences to follow. Too many to get into right at this moment considering he was busy trying to cover his head and face from getting blasted while hanging off a superhero’s shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

Getting punished by a god or goddess was not for the weak.

No kid liked getting in trouble and punished by their parents. It was a very unpleasant and frustrating feeling when you had to answer for something you either 100% did without thinking of the circumstances, or something that happened and you were the victim of said circumstances.

But imagine getting punished by your God or Goddess parent for something that you had no control over. Even more, something said parent was directly responsible for!

The hypocrisy of it all.

Y/N’s father was a handsome man. Their genes were always divinely blessed, the Alpha always liked to joke, and the young Omega didn’t realize the irony of that statement until he got older and started questioning things.

Whenever he thought about changing his appearance or switching something up, it happened immediately without any action or movement from him. At one point during some teenage life crisis, he wanted to go blonde but didn’t even need to purchase dye. One moment he’s looking at his natural hair color and looks down to grab his comb. Next thing he knows, he’s got a full head of blond hair in the exact style he imagined. And it looked goood.

There was another time when he wished in his head that the sweater he was eyeing while shopping was gray instead of red, but according to the store, they never produced that particular color. When he went to go look at other options, imagine his surprise when he turned back two minutes later and it seemed as if the store did indeed have gray. And from a closer look, they only had gray. Starting to see the point?

Y/N could read people like a book, especially pertaining to feelings of affection, desire, and jealousy. Imagine the ability to feel someone’s very adult-like feelings, and you hadn’t even hit puberty yet. His dad had to have the birds and the bees talk with him much earlier than planned.

One of the most concerning things was Y/N's naturally attractive aura and charming voice. Though, he couldn’t tell if it was his voice or just the words he spoke that were attractive. But, people seemed to flock to him like moths to a flame. Even at a young age, many fought for his attention, whether it was classmates, friends, family, or strangers he’d run into when out with his dad.

It was normal for an Omega to be highly desired and sought after by Alphas, but it wasn’t just them fighting for his attention. Y/N had Betas and Omegas alike competing with each other for the chance to get acquainted with him.

By the time he entered high school, on record, he had up to four secret admirers (and two stalkers), and when things only seemed to get more out of control, that’s when his dad finally decided to sit him down and explain the truth to him.

“So, yeah. Probably should have told you this when you were younger, but your mom’s Aphrodite.”

…

Not joking, he 100% said it just like that.

Of course, you can imagine the Omega’s confusion and somewhat anger that this information had been withheld for most of his life. Now, not only did Y/N have to deal with the everyday struggles of life and being an Omega, but he also had to balance being the demigod son to the Goddess of Beauty, Love, and Desire. When you think about it, it made the Omega thing 10x more stressful than it already was.

This was the type of shit people wrote and fantasized about.

Wait a sec…

…

Nah.

Now, back to the beginning, since we have some more context, what was this so-called punishment, and why did it have Y/N grumbling about mommy issues while being whisked around the nation’s capital as some superheroes had it out with each other over who got to claim his body affection?

Oh, nothing serious, really. Just mommy dearest trying to interfere with her son’s love life! Who knew the immortal parents were privy to the same, petty tactics as their mortal counterparts…

Unlike most others who would be excited at the thought of being the child of Aphrodite, Y/N felt he had an unfair advantage when it came to dating and relationships, given his semi-godly abilities and gifts. After his last relationship ended in a horror show with a sequel he promised would never see production, he swore off dating and romance for good.

Well, that didn’t fly too well with Aphrodite. Her children, full-blood and half-blood, were always known for their romantic escapades. One of them was the face of Valentine’s Day! Well, his cousin from Rome was, at least.

So, with the help of her son and Y/N’s half-brother, Eros, God of Love, Lust, and Sex, (the mentioned Greek cousin to Cupid) they set up a little divine punishment for the young Demigod to teach him a lesson for rejecting his goldy heritage. It also paid off as insurance, just in case.

Deities and their children were always known to be stubborn little beings.

Aphrodite sent Eros down to Earth to follow his half-blood sibling around, observing his actions and who he interacted with. And, for any male Alpha that the Omega came in contact with, the God of Lust was to ensure a connection was established between the two if he deemed them worthy enough.

Simply put, he was to shoot male Alpha he figured his mother would approve as a match for her son/his brother in the ass with a love arrow. Now, why she told him to shoot only male Alphas and not female, you’d have to ask her.

Mother knows best.

Unlucky for Y/N, they chose one of the worst days to do that when he happened to be in Washington, D.C. for a work-related trip.

Do you know what else is in Washington, D.C.? The Justice League headquarters.

But, why would that be a problem? Do you really need an explanation?

Imagine how interesting it would be if, at the same time Y/N happened to be in Washington, D.C., one of the famous Justice League heroes like Flash, Green Lantern, or Superman happened to be there as well. Picture how tempting of an opportunity it would be for Eros after he was told to find the best potential matches for his little brother.

Pretty damn tempting if you ask anyone else.

Now, if we’re being truthful, Superman was Eros’ ideal choice for his brother, knowing their mother would definitely approve of the relationship between her son and the Kryptonian. Even if he wasn’t an Alpha due to his alien biology, he still had all the ideal traits of one. Not to mention his strong features and handsome looks.

But, he wasn’t opposed to one of the other heroes like Flash or Green Lantern. And when the latter had been the one to save Y/N during some random battle that broke out between the League and some villains, he figured why not just shoot them all and see who came out on top?

Plus, he was the God of Sex just as much as he was of Love. He wanted to see who out of the three heroes had the sexual prowess to handle someone like his brother. Prude or not, being mated to a child of Aphrodite meant you had to be strong in a lot of ways, especially when it came down to the nitty and gritty.

And who said he couldn’t get a little entertainment out of this?

That entertainment is what led Y/N to his situation of being carried throughout the city like some prize while the world’s defenders fought with each other like kids trying to get the last cookie in the jar.

As said, it started with Green Lantern rescuing him and carrying him away to some random rooftop. Everything seemed normal until Y/N noticed a change in the hero and his sudden lustful gazes that were being directed at him. He'd been on the receiving end of a fair amount of adoration and attention by admiring and persistent Alphas, but this he could tell was something different.

And it was.

Eros had shot Green Lantern with the love arrow while they were still in the sky. Now, instead of thinking about the fight he was leaving his comrades to handle by themselves without his assistance, all his thoughts were centered around the Omega in his arms and how blessed he was to be in the presence of such a radiant being.

And how much he couldn't wait to claim his body all for himself. Besides, no one was more fitting or deserving of an Omega of Y/N's stature than the Green Lantern himself. At least, that's what his love-delusioned, and frankly, naturally egotistical mind believed.

Y/N didn't have time to even question what was going on before the green-clad hero had whisked him away to a rooftop, not too far from where the fight was happening. He figured it was over after that and the Alpha would return to his comrades after setting him down.

Imagine the Omega's shock when he found himself pressed against a wall, the hero kissing and nuzzling his neck while running his hands down his body.

"W-What are you doing?" Y/N stuttered out, trying to push the man away but to no avail.

"What does it look like? I'm saving you," The hero's voice was gruff and desperate, and the Omega was starting to get concerned.

"Okay, but this is less saving and more of molesting," Y/N struggled, having his arms pinned against the wall before feeling a hand running down his body towards his pants.

"I'm saving you from other Alphas trying to claim you. After this, you'll belong to me, and me only," Lantern growled gruffly in his ear, an aggressiveness that was all too familiar to the Omega. He'd seen this behavior before but didn't have much time to think about it as the hero started unbuttoning his pants.

"W-Wait! Stop!"

"No, I can't," Lantern shook his head, his eyes glazed over.

"You're under a spell or something!" Y/N tried again, but his words fell on deaf ears.

"I can't stop myself. I need you now," The hero growled, finally pulling the Omega's pants and underwear down before undoing his own and pulling out his throbbing, hard cock.

"No! Stop! You don't want to do this!"

"Stop being such a brat. I need to do this," Lantern's voice was firm and demanding.

Before the green-clad hero could achieve his objective, he was suddenly yanked off the Omega by a red and yellow blur, electricity crackling off it. The Omega after realizing he was free wasted no time in pulling his underwear and pants back up, watching as the blur, now recognized to be Flash, was currently fighting with Green Lantern near the edge of the rooftop.

"What are you doing, man?!" Flash yelled, trying to restrain the other hero.

"Let go of me, I need to save him!" Lantern growled, fighting the speedster's hold.

"From what?" Flash questioned, looking at the Omega confused.

"He's mine!"

"He's not yours!"

"Yes, he is!"

"GL, you need to get a grip."

"He's my Omega! I need to mark him!"

From his position, Y/N could see Flash was struggling to hold the other Alpha down and figured he should probably make his exit right about now. He made his way over to the fire escape, about to climb over until a figure floated up from below.

Superman, ever in his large and slightly intimidating form with his cape blowing in the wind looked down at the Omega with a smile, offering his hand, "Need some help?"

The Omega smiled with a soft blush, trying to quell his nerves at the Alpha's admittedly very handsome and chiseled face. Again, the Omega was no prude, nor was he oblivious to all the gossip and rumors of the world's protectors and their handsome and muscular figures. The latter was made even more prominent by the tight nature of their uniforms.

Y/N would be lying if he said he wasn't looking at Flash's prominent glutes hidden under the red spandex.

But, before the Omega took the Kryptonian's equally large hand, he noticed something in the background. The fight that initially led to this whole mess was still going on. Yet, three of the main superheroes involved in that fight were over here. Flash, he threw to the back of his mind since the speedster did technically save him. But, why was Superman here?

That's when Y/N noticed something in the Kryptonian hero's eyes. An expression almost identical to the one he just saw in Green Lantern.

Uh oh.

Before the Omega could even react, the Alpha had already scooped him up into his arms and flew off into the sky.

"H-Hey! Put me down!" Y/N stuttered, struggling in the Alpha's hold.

"I can't. I need to save you," Superman's voice was low and deep, and the Omega could feel the vibrations from his chest.

Hmm, where had he heard that before?

"Save me from what?"

"Other Alphas trying to claim you," The Kryptonian explained, and Y/N could have sworn he heard a growl in his voice.

A nervous feeling settled into his stomach, and if he wasn't careful, he'd find himself falling prey and submissive to the very situation he was trying to find a way out of. Being Aphrodite's son as mentioned before, he had an extraordinary gift with the power of emotions and desires. He could project his feelings of desire and love onto others, just as much as he could mirror them.

Another one of those aforementioned consequences of deities breeding with mortals.

The only thing Y/N struggled to figure out though was why all of this was happening. He'd never had a run-in with any of these heroes before, and the only time he'd seen behavior like this was when it was related to his...

...Of course.

His mother.

Now, everything was starting to make sense. This could only be the work of mommy dearest, and if Y/N had to guess, his half-brother Eros as well.

He'd have to deal with that problem later, though. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand, and that was escaping the arms of a very powerful, very strong, and very horny superhero.

"You're mine. I'll protect you from the others," Superman continued, and Y/N could feel a slight rumble in the Alpha's chest.

"I'm not yours," The Omega shook his head, continuing to struggle.

"Yes, you are. You're mine," The Kryptonian's grip tightened, and the Omega winced at the pain.

Y/N looked down and quickly rid himself of any thoughts that he could survive a fall from this height. Even if he was Aphrodite's son, he lacked something vitally important that his mother and brother both possessed. Immortality.

Hopefully, he could figure another way out of this.

He knew there was no reasoning with the Alpha. As long as he was under Eros' spell, no amount of logic or reasoning would get through to him. As cliché as it may sound, Y/N needed a divine intervention.

Thankfully, it seemed as if one was on the way.

Trails of green energy suddenly surrounded the pair, forming a giant floating cage. Superman turned to see his comrade, having escaped from Flash's grasp flying toward them.

"Get away from him!" Green Lantern yelled, flying towards the duo.

"No! He belongs to me. You have no right to him Lantern," Superman shouted back, clutching the Omega closer.

"You're not even a real Alpha, Clark! You're not even strong enough to make an Omega like him submit to you."

"What did you just say?!"

"You heard me, you fake-ass Alpha. I'm the only one worthy enough for him. Not some alien trash!"

"Why, you-"

Before the two could continue their argument, a vortex suddenly surrounded the two, causing Lantern to lose his focus. The energy cage surrounding the Kryptonian and Omega dissipated and the force from the vortex sent the two heroes to lose their flying. Superman tried his best to stay in the air, but the sudden force was too much and caused him to crash into a nearby building while Lantern crashed into a dumpster.

The Kryptonian managed to shield the Omega from the damage and brunt of their fall by wrapping him in his body. When Y/N realized they weren't falling anymore and had come to a complete stop, he peeked from the Alpha's hold, just in time to see the return of a certain Speedster who must have run up the side of the building to where they were now.

"Are you guys alright?" Flash asked, his eyes landing on the Omega in Superman's arms.

"I'm fine," Y/N nodded, and Flash sighed in relief.

"A vortex, Flash? Really?" Superman questioned with a raised eyebrow, still holding the Omega to his body.

"It was the quickest way to get you two out of the air without hurting anyone," Flash defended, crossing his arms.

"By throwing us into a building?"

"Better than the ground."

"You could have gotten him killed!"

"You were the one holding him!"

"Guys, I'm fine. I promise," Y/N interrupted, and the two Alphas turned to him.

"See, he's fine. Let's get back to the fight," Flash suggested, turning to leave.

"No, not until he's mine," Superman shook his head, and the Omega groaned. He stood up from the ground, letting the Omega stand on his own feet, but keeping an arm wrapped body to prevent him from running off.

"Not this again," Flash sighed, turning back, "You can't claim him."

"And why not?"

"Because he's mine," Lantern's voice suddenly joined the conversation, and the three turned to see the hero, seemingly recovered from his fall, walking towards them.

"No, he's mine!" Superman shouted, his eyes suddenly glowing red as he pointed them at the green-clad hero.

"Clark, no!" Flash shouted, holding his arms up in an attempt to stop the Kryptonian.

"No, he's mine. He's mine. He's mine!" The Kryptonian yelled, his eyes getting brighter.

"Clark, you're gonna kill him!"

"I don't care, Barry. No one is taking my Omega from me."

"He's not yours to claim," Lantern shouted back.

While this was all happening, everyone was oblivious to the new presence that had joined him. Only, none of the heroes could see him. Only Y/N could, and that was a very big problem.

"Eros..." Y/N muttered under his breath, narrowing his gaze at his half-brother who held a mischievous grin on his face while positioning himself slowly behind the speedster.

When Y/N realized what he was doing, he struggled in the Kryptonian's grip, "Eros, no!"

But, it was too late. The deity had taken his shot at the Flash, hitting him perfectly square in the back. The speedster flinched at the impact, turning to look around but finding nothing there, at least, nothing his sight could see. But, when he turned his gaze back around and they fell on the Omega still trapped in Superman's hands, an identical glaze to match the one in the other heroes fell over his eyes. One the half-blood was all too familiar with.

"Oh fuck..." Y/N muttered under his breath.

"Mine," Flash growled, his eyes trained on the Omega.

Before either of the two other heroes could react, Flash sped forward and landed a bunch of fast punches and blows on the Kryptonian, causing him to lose his grip on the Omega.

"Flash, what are you doing?" Lantern yelled at his comrade.

"Taking what's mine," The speedster responded, a charming but crazed look in his expression.

He grabbed Y/N and threw him over his shoulder, the Omega flailing in his grip while also trying to hold on tight as the speedster sped around the space, avoiding attacks from both Green Lantern and Superman at the same time.

"He's not yours, Barry!" Superman shouted, his heat vision shooting at the speedster who avoided it with ease.

"Yes, he is! He's mine!" The speedster yelled, clutching the Omega tighter.

"No, he's mine," Lantern yelled back, sending a giant fist toward the speedster who avoided it in a blur.

"No, he's mine!" Superman yelled, sending his heat vision at Lantern who in turn blocked it with a shield.

"No, he's mine!" The two shouted together, and the fight resumed.

Y/N, still trapped in the speedster's arms, watched helplessly as the Kryptonian and Lantern focused their attacks on each other, feeling a pat on his ass from the speedster who tightened the grip he had around his legs.

"Don't worry about them, beautiful. They're not worthy enough to have you. I am. You'll be mine, and I'll protect you from the others," Flash's voice was husky, and the Omega could feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"You're under a spell, Flash. You don't want to do this," Y/N tried to reason, but the speedster just laughed.

"Oh, but I do. I didn't know what actual life was until just a few minutes ago when I gazed upon you. and now that I have you, I can finally make you mine," Flash smirked, and the Omega gulped.

Flash sped out of the building with the Omega over his shoulder still, the two other Alphas only noticing their disappearance after they were already a mile down the street.

"Shit, where did he take him?" Lantern asked, looking around.

"I don't know," Superman answered, "But we'll find him. And when we do, you'll be the one who has to step aside."

"Like hell, I will!"

While those two continued to bicker, Flash ran himself and the Omega all the way back to Central City. Y/N was amazed at how he didn't pass out from the speed and movement, but he was grateful he didn't. Also, having superspeed may have made it a bit easier.

Just a guess.

When they finally came to a stop, the Omega was set down on his feet, and he looked around to see they were in some bedroom.

"Where are we?" Y/N asked, trying to keep his composure.

"My bedroom," Flash answered, his eyes still glazed over.

"Oh," Y/N nodded, a nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't worry, you're safe here," The speedster walked towards him, and the Omega backed away, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You say that, but your eyes say otherwise," Y/N responded, continuing to back away until he hit the wall.

"I know. But, I can't help it. I need to have you," Flash smirked, and the Omega felt his arousal getting excited in his pants.

"I'm not yours to have," Y/N shook his head, his heart pounding.

"Yes, you are," Flash's voice was firm, and the Omega felt his resolve fading.

"I-I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his knees getting weak.

"Yes, you are," The speedster was in front of him, and Y/N could feel his breath on his skin.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, but his voice was barely a whisper.

"You are," Flash whispered, his face close to the Omega's.

The very thing Y/N was concerned about happening when he was trapped with Superman earlier began to manifest, much to his fear. His divine abilities were reacting to his body's 'chemistry spikes' and now, he was beginning to mirror the Alpha's current feelings toward him, including the obsessive ones, which were now clouding his judgment.

"I'm not," Y/N shook his head, his breathing getting labored.

"You are," Flash whispered, his lips getting closer to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N stuttered, his body giving in.

"You are," Flash whispered, pressing his lips to the Omega's.

"I'm not," Y/N muttered against his lips.

"You are," Flash said firmly, pulling the Omega's body closer to him.

In a move Y/N thought was him going to push against the Alpha in an attempt to resist his seductions, he actually was running his hands up and down the spandex-covered muscles. His legs were spread open by the speedster as he hoisted him up, wrapping them around his waist while pressing him to the wall, kissing him even harder while undressing his clothes.

"You're mine, Y/N," The speedster whispered, his lips trailing down the Omega's neck, "All mine."

"I'm yours, Barry," Y/N panted, his body flushed. Y/N remembered hearing Superman call the speedster by that, figuring it must have been either his civilian name or a codename they had. Either way, he could see from the delighted expression across the Flash's face and his blue eyes through the slits of his mask that he was very pleased by it.

"Say it again."

"I'm yours, Barry. I'm yours."

"That's right, beautiful. You're mine, and I'm yours. You'll never have to worry about other Alphas again, because I'll protect you from them."

The sun's light cascaded through the open windows in the bedroom as the two continued frotting against each other against the wall. Barry trailed his kisses from Y/N's lips down to his neck and eventually to his naked chest, before sucking on his wet nipples while the Omega through his head back in pleasure, the Alpha looking up at him with his blue eyes before taking his lips away from the leaking nubs.

"Do you like that, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded, his eyes glazed over, "Are you ready for more?"

"Y-Yes, Alpha," Y/N nodded, his breath labored.

"Good boy," Barry whispered, his voice husky and deep. He kissed the Omega one last time on the lips before pulling him away from the wall, carrying him bridal style to the bed.

Barry laid the Omega down, the latter spreading his legs open in submission and invitation, and the former smirked, climbing on top of the bed. Barry pressed kisses to the side of the Omega's neck again, right over his scent gland before taking a big sniff.

"Just the smell of you gets me excited, darling."

Barry's hands roamed the Omega's upper naked body, feeling the smooth and soft skin while trailing his fingers down his sides and to his hips. Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the sheets as the speedster's fingers teased the inside of his thighs.

"I love the way your skin feels, and the way your body reacts to me," Barry whispered, his nose pressing into the Omega's scent gland.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his body arching off the bed.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hands squeezing the Omega's hips.

"Barry," Y/N moaned, his eyes closed.

"That's right, baby. I'm Barry, and you're mine," Barry whispered, his fingers moving up the Omega's inner thighs.

"I'm yours," Y/N nodded, his legs spreading open even wider.

However, before Barry could move to remove the Y/N’s pants, the Omega whined at him, tugging on the spandex of his suit and mask with his hands causing a cheesing smile to appear across the Alpha's face.

"Aw, you want to see me out of my suit, don't you, darling?" Barry asked, and the Omega nodded frantically.

"Yes, Alpha. Please."

"Good boy," Barry praised, and the Omega whimpered.

He quickly removed his gloves and masks, tossing them aside before unzipping the top of his suit and pulling it off, revealing his sculpted and muscled chest. Y/N's eyes widened in delight and appreciation at the sight, reaching his hands out to touch the smooth and pale skin.

The Omega moaned happily at the sight, running his hands down the hard pecs and abs while leaning up to press his own kisses against the skin. Barry shuddered above him from the move while resuming his earlier actions of removing the offending pants and underwear that were hiding his prize from his sight.

Tossing the pants aside, he leaned up and took in the sight of the fully naked Omega, writhing on his sheets and whining for him, feeling his own throbbing hard erection under his suit pants.

"Look at you, darling. So beautiful, and all mine," Barry ran his hands down the Omega's sides, creating a tickling feeling that had the smaller male giggling, "I can't wait to claim your body, all for me," he growled, voice husky with want.

Barry kissed his way down the Omega's chest, taking a moment to bite and lick at the leaking nubs again before gripping his thighs and spreading them open. He positioned his head between the open legs while staring at the tight, slick-producing hole in front of him. He lapped his tongue to gather of taste of it on his tongue, Y/N flinching violently at the sensation while calling out the Alpha's name.

"Delicious," Barry muttered, before diving in on the wet treat in front of him.

"Oh fuck," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly.

Barry's tongue lapped at the dripping slick, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs tight and pushing them open even further to gain better access. Y/N moaned, his back arching off the bed while the Alpha's tongue entered his hole, tasting him from the inside.

"Barry, please. Please, I need it. Please," Y/N begged, his body shaking with arousal and want.

Barry didn't listen to him though, he kept feasting on the Omega's arousal while using his speed to vibrate his tongue inside him, causing the Omega to moan even louder, his body shaking with pleasure.

"Barry, please! a-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking even more.

"What do you need, baby? Tell me," Barry asked, pulling his tongue out and looking at the Omega with a smirk.

"I-I need you... Please, please," Y/N begged, and the Alpha smiled.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, Alpha. Please, I need you. Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

The Alpha discarded the rest of his suit and underwear, his throbbing erection springing free, causing the Omega to lick his lips at the sight. Barry chuckled at his reaction while pulling him down the bed and picking him up in his arms, wrapping the smaller male's legs around him and pressing him against the wall.

Barry played with his cock against the Y/N's wet heat, enjoying the pleasurable reactions that ran across the Omega's face. "Who's your Alpha?" He asked with another playful smack of his mushroom head against the hot and throbbing entrance.

"Y-You, Alpha," Y/N panted, his face red and eyes glazed over.

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha," Barry whispered before he slowly slid inside the Omega.

"Fuck!" Y/N yelled, his head leaning back against the wall.

"So tight and warm. It's like you were made just for me, baby," Barry moaned, his cock pushing all the way in until his balls were pressed against the Omega's ass.

Y/N dug his nails into the skin of Barry's shoulders while the Alpha pressed him harder against the wall, his hips rapidly moving back and forth as he fucked him hard. The speedster's hips and legs were already dripping with more and more of the Omega's arousal as it dripped into his carpet, creating more of a mess the harder he thrust in and out of the hole.

"h-harder ... p-please, harder ..." Y/N moaned, his eyes closed while Barry sucked on his neck.

"So beautiful," Barry growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass cheeks while thrusting harder, "Such a good little Omega, taking my cock so well."

"Barry! Barry!" Y/N moaned, his legs wrapped tighter around the Alpha's waist.

"Say it again," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry!" Y/N moaned, his back arching.

Suddenly, Barry got the bright idea to add his speed to it, making his hips move at a pace that would be deemed impossible for any regular human. Good thing he wasn't a regular human. However, the increase in speed had Y/N shouting at the top of his lungs, tears springing to his eyes as he pounded his fists against the Alpha's hard, mildly sweaty chest.

Meanwhile, Y/N was a soaking mess. The shine from the sweat all around his body was highlighted by the sun's fading rays and the increasingly bright glow from the streetlights outside the window. Combined with the sticky fluid still leaking from his chest and the slick that was all but splashing between the Alpha and Omega.

"That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all," Barry growled, his hips moving faster.

"Barry, I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum," Y/N cried, his legs shaking.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby," Barry commanded, and the Omega followed.

"Fuck!" Y/N screamed, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came between the two, digging nails into Barry's sweaty back as his release overwhelmed him.

"That's a good Omega," Barry said, before slipping out of the smaller male, carrying him over to the bed and propping him up on all fours.

He gripped the Omega's hips, sliding back inside him and fucking him at a rapid pace, his hips slapping against the plump ass cheeks. Y/N's eyes rolled back into his head as he cried out, his body shaking with pleasure while the Alpha fucked him.

"That's it, baby. Take it," Barry growled, his grip tightening on the Omega's hips.

"p-please, I can't... FUCK! I can't take anymore... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking as the Alpha started using his powers again to increase his speed.

"You can, and you will," Barry growled, his hips moving even faster.

"Barry, please! Fuck, I'm gonna... !"

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. Cum for your Alpha," Barry growled.

"mm ... mmh ... ! O-OHH, FUCK ... !" Y/N shouted, his back arching and his eyes rolling back into his head as he came, his legs and body shaking from the overstimulation as the Alpha started to chase his own finish.

Barry's knot started to form at the base and slowly was inching closer and closer as the Alpha fucked the Omega who was beginning to softly cry from the amount of pleasure and pain he was experiencing. His hands weakly tried to push against the speedster's hips in an attempt to slow him down but were snatched together in a grip while feeling a painful smack against his ass.

"Don't try and fight it, baby. Just let me claim you. Just let me have you," Barry growled, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Barry, I-I can't ... !" Y/N cried, his body shaking.

"Yes, you can. Just a little longer," Barry's hips started to stutter, and the Omega cried out, his legs shaking as he felt the Alpha's knot starting to press against his hole.

"Barry, please! PLEASE ... !" Y/N sobbed, his body convulsing on the inside from the overwhelming sensation.

"Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

"I-I can't... Please, I can't ... !"

"Almost there, baby. Who's your Alpha?"

"Y-You... You are ... !"

"That's right, baby. I'm your Alpha. And, now I'm gonna make you mine. Forever."

With that, Barry pressed all the way inside, releasing his knot into the Omega with a loud groan as he leaned forward, catching himself on the bed as Y/N had his third orgasm against the sheets, suddenly feeling heavy and drained from the strenuous workout he just went through.

While the pair were both recovering, neither of them realized the small, matching marks that slowly appeared over their scent glands. They were now a fully mated pair, and the God of Love and Sex knew this as he peered in through the window, watching the sweaty individuals with satisfaction.

"Welp, my job's done. I'm sure Mother will be pleased with this outcome. Serves you right, brother. You should know better than to try and deny your heritage. Hope you learn well from this punishment."

With that, the deity disappeared, making his way home.

Meanwhile...

"That should be the last of them," Lantern said, flying through the air after he captured the last of the attacking minions.

"Good," Superman nodded, his eyes still glowing white as he scanned the area.

"What are you doing?" Lantern asked, looking at the Kryptonian confused.

"Looking for him."

"Who?"

"The Omega."

"Oh yeah, do you think Barry already claimed him?"

"Probably, but it doesn't matter. Cause he belongs to me, and I'm going to take him back, by whatever means necessary."

☀️ | Barry Allen/Flash | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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morgana-ren · 4 months

Note

I'm starting to think Astarion is your golden child in this AU. He's always seems to be descrobed as the level headed mature one compared to the others! I know thats not true, So let's dirty him up a bit. Give me some vile gross tidbits about your version. Give me some violent delights about this boy

Oh god, you are RIGHT. He is actually the golden boy for the funniest reason.

Hilariously enough, it's because he has a lot of love and support and affection from his brothers. His trauma is acknowledged, and he was he most open to working through it, and he has a lot of support for a work in progress mentally. He was able to talk about it and although Corvus and Reaves and Ilya are very toxic in some ways, toxic masculinity with each other isn't it. They'll happily love and support him. Corvus especially is very good at caring for someone when he loves them, and he loves Astarion and his chosen 'family' to the point of embarrassment on his part. Part of taking Astarion under his wing and making him his responsibility was helping him deal with his trauma, and he acknowledged that, and he did it. It was important to him.

Because of this, Astarion ended up a bit... Healthier than everyone. He had somewhere else to focus his sadistic tendencies rather than on himself. He's still a complete bastard, but it's not trauma-fueled.

Now, it's a double-edged sword, because the people helping him weren't exactly healthy. He worked through it, but uh.. aside from a lot of talks with his brothers, it was very much not in a healthy way. That being said, he's one of the only ones who has achieved his revenge, taken back control of his life, and is genuinely content with the way things are. Cazador is dead, he has taken back his agency, and he has worked through his issues.

He has control of his body, his life, and who he keeps around him. It didn't make him a compassionate, and kind person (good luck with the present company) but it made him healthier and less vindictive. It made him capable of rational, healthy thinking when needed. He understands people better. He can understand plight and trauma.

He has to be the voice of reason because everyone else is still plagued by their issues. Everyone else is still, in one way or another, still actively suffering.

Corvus's 'father' is still alive in a lot of the aus, and he cannot rest and cannot be complacent while he is alive. That is his living nightmare. He still lost everyone he loved because of his 'father'-- his siblings, his true parents, people he chose to love, etc. He was literally put through hell and came out forged in fire. He's still angry and ambitious and suffering underneath all that domineering, hateful shit. He wants the throne because that is the only way to end it. His 'father,' his fear, his endless cycle of hate. He feels like with all the power, that is literally the only time he will be safe and will have enough power to keep everyone he loves safe-- and he buries that underneath power hungry bullshit. It's part of why he turned Astarion into a fully honed vampire lord weapon-- so he could protect himself because he loves him. Corvus very much is suffering underneath all of that ballsy veneer. Don't get me wrong, he's a son of a bitch, but it stems from intense trauma. He became this way because he needed to for survival and the survival of everyone he loves. He cannot rest until he feels safe, and he is so paranoid at this point-- even through all this power-- I don't know if he ever fully will without a lot of working on himself. It is tied in to who he is as a person, his theological beliefs, all of it.

Reaver never ever dealt with anything. He lost the two loves of his life, inadvertently abandoned his children, and became a selfish, wretched motherfucker to cover his overwhelming pain.He suffers consistent night terrors and cannot be alone with himself, self medicating and killing to soothe the agony of it. He accidentally killed one wife, and then he watched another woman he loved wither and die and refuse to stay alive with him because he was such a bastard that they were literally ideologically opposed because of who he made himself. It was his own fault and he cannot face that. He killed everyone he loved, all of his family, all of his friends, all of them accidentally but still selfishly and foolishly and to cope with that, he has to lean into being a cold, unhinged, ruthless murderer. He believes that, aside from his brothers, he will spend eternity alone, with him passing the world by as an immortal monolith and plague of humanity and that the only thing that matters is temporary hedonistic pleasure because it's all he has. He has given up on every being truly happy. He does not want a wife, or children, or any legacy but death that is his Industry and his gun. He does not want anything else that will pass on without him or inevitably see who he is. He has made his existence a giant flashing warning sign. A harbinger of pain and suffering and a warning to keep the fuck away or you too will die. Pleasure and death is the only constant. He was already a bastard when he met Corvus. He has stayed one out of sheer stubbornness because unpacking it all just might kill him, but they do get him to open up occasionally.

Ilya never dealt with anything. To put it simply, he died in his prime trying to prove himself, and never let that go. When he died, he went hollow. He went straight to work in the hells and that just made him worse. Seeing the worst that reality had to offer and having his own experiences to boot. He realized that nothing truly means anything and that anything that has ever mattered was either taken away or abandoned him. Even death cannot spare you pain. The only person he loved, he will never see again, and even in death, there is no release. The only certainty is pleasure and that is all that matters. He came to a similar conclusion as Reaver. He makes a very rare exception for his brothers (and truthfully he expects them to abandon him later as well to be completely honest,) but he became extremely averse to relationships and any form of love and care because it ends up stabbing him and causing more pain than if he had just.. stayed away. He is in a self-imposed bastard isolation chamber. He will outlive everyone. He will lose everyone. It always blows up in your face, even if he doesn't outlive them. He finds happiness in shallow, foolish things, and he is staring down the barrel of eternity, same as his brothers, with no true love and experience waiting for him. He thinks that this is all there was and all there will ever be. He will not find love, or happiness. It will always leave him in the end. The only thing that he has are things he can control wholly.

Corvus and Ilya? They went through literal hell. Manifestations of fear and the horrible wretched things that made them who they are. They had to be there, but don't think it didn't impact them.

Reaver? He did this to himself. But he is so far gone, so past the point of being able to heal, that any attempt would probably unwind him. His wounds are scars he would have to cut open to restitch and reset himself.

Asto though? Asto's wounds were fresh. They were still there. Corvus found him, gave him the catharsis of revenge, and then helped him take back his autonomy. Gave him the agency of complete choice. Pushed off his seduction attempts once he understood just how bad things were. Helped set him right and realize that he didn't have to do this, and this his body, his mind, his personage are entirely his own. It wasn't too late for him. Corvus made sure to ensure that he never had to do that again. If he never wanted to touch another person, he never had to. Not him, not Reaver, not Ilya, not a single soul. Asto put in the work to be better and they helped him along the way.

Their love was not conditional. He helped him get the means to protect himself from ever being a slave again, and unleashed him. Completely untethered. No conditions. Just love and care for someone. He didn't expect his soul. He didn't expect anything in return. He just wanted him to be okay-- a rare show of selflessness for Corvus, mostly because he saw himself in Asto at first. And then he grew to genuinely love him.

All of them are suffering. But Astarion's demons? They're dead. He got his revenge. He got his time to heal. He has people who love and care about him. He has had time to work through it all.

That made him the inadvertent reasonable one. He hates it so much, but sometimes he must be the rational one and the voice of reason because everyone else is so utterly broken. They take shit too far. They have difficulties acting like normal, reasonable, rational adults and making normal decisions. Asti-boy had time to work through a lot of his bullshit, and he's just a bastard cause.. he can be. He enjoys it. It's the way he lives. There's very few unaddressed, deeply rooted reasons left. It's just how he likes to live.

Don't get me wrong, he very much is a twat. He is. Is absolutely is. He's not squeaky clean or level headed by any definition of the word. Any at all.

But when it comes to the others, he is, in the strangest way, the 'oldest' and 'most mature'-- (even though llya is technically the oldest if you want to get very strange and technical, but it depends how you quantify 'age' because he died and just sort of resumed living as a fiend, with Reaver following, and then technically Asto, with Corvus having more life experience and only being slightly behind in numbers.)

So when it comes to gross tidbits, I need a little bit... more to work with. He's just as gross as they are. He's very much a 'part of the group' and is really only rational when all else fails or something is going very wrong. He absolutely will join in the chaos and be a prick when he wants to-- and he always wants to.

What kind are you looking for?

There was the 'Asto sleeps with Corvus's fiance' debacle. The 'Asto proposed to the girl first to steal her' debacle. The 'Asto is not allowed around weddings' bit. There's the 'Asto becomes the terror of a small village and becomes a permanent babayka (not to be confused with baba-yaga) for them' incident. Like he's been a real shitheel for years. There are fewer examples of him being level headed than there are of him being a twat. If you're looking for specifics, I got 'em.

Like he is absolutely still a shithead. He's just a bit more... put together than the others sometimes.

#morgana and friends #the bastard three (four)

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michelle-is-writing · 3 years

Text

Family Matters, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

In the time I’ve worked at Princeton-Plainsboro teaching hospital, some might say I'm the bubbly doctor in our group. Although I don’t know how true this might be, I do know everyone can agree I'm definitely more bubbly than doctor Gregory House, but that's for another day to discuss. I'm usually the one people send in to try and cheer up patients. Because of this, I mostly work in the pediatrics ward where young, sick children are. Sometimes, I have an easy time talking to the kids and making them happier, and sometimes, I don't; usually, when I'm upset, I have a hard time.

Right now, I'm having a very difficult time.

A young New Jersey girl at the age of 11 had developed mastoiditis, an infection that affects the mastoid bone above the ear and is typically caused by a middle ear infection. Usually, this all clears up, but sadly, this infection had grown to be so bad that the girl ended up with only twenty-three percent of her hearing left in the one ear. Although this is the case, I'm not having a hard time because of the girl's loss of hearing, no.

I have my own problems at the moment.

Since I'm working in the children's ward, I don't get to see Wilson or Greg as much as I want to. Despite Greg's tendency to be an asshole, he's still my best friend and not to mention that Wilson is the kind of guy anyone can talk to about anything. However, our schedules are all different, so, as I said: we don't get to see each other that often.

At least they're still in my life though. For my family, I can’t say the same. Recently, I've just lost the closest person to me in my family; although it wasn’t through death, but through immaturity and childishness. Because of this, all of my other family members have closed me out as well, causing me to be alone. With all of my friends busy and my family shutting me out, I have no one to talk to or enjoy time with... no one. I can't even get a boyfriend for Christ's sake, and it's not like the guy I have my eyes on actually likes me back. Greg is the type of guy you can easily fall in love with, yet at the same, you really shouldn't.

"Doctor (y/n)," the young girl by the name of Jessie states. Putting all my focus back on her, I remind myself not become distracted anymore today. This isn’t the first time, unfortunately. "Will my hearing ever return?"

I smile sadly at her and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Jessie," I tell her. "Your hearing in that ear won't return, but it's not a bad thing!" I assure her. She smiles in relief. "We can always get you a hearing aid, and that will help get your hearing back to normal again, but the wait might be a little long," I explain. "Is that okay with you?"

She nods her head at my question. "I'm okay with that, doctor (Y/n)," Jessie tells me, "I'll have my family help me until then," she smiles brightly. "You can always look up to your family, right?" She states, confident in her words.

Tears slowly rising to my eyes at the thought, I nod and quickly blink them away. "That's right," I tell her, still smiling. "And don't you ever forget it," looking toward her parents, I nod my head. "The discharge nurse will be here in a few moments with the papers. If you'll excuse me..."

Without another word, I quickly leave the room and walk as fast as I can to the nearest empty room. I prefer going to James’ office instead, but it's two floors away, and I don't want any awkward elevator trips. So, before I have a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway, I find an unlocked janitorial closet before walking in and closing the door behind me, ultimately sliding down the hardwood door once it's shut.

Sitting on the cold, tile floor, I begin sobbing as quiet as I can, my hand covering my mouth. I already had my family drama on my mind all day, but for that girl to unintentionally throw it back in my face? That was the frosting on top of the already leaning, three-layer cake.

Tears stream down my cheeks like raindrops as I cry my heart out. I can tell my cheeks are red by the sensation of heat I currently feel on them; my hands feel it too. I'm crying so hard my chest begins to heave up and down as if I were having a panic attack. Oh God, I can't have a panic attack. Not here, not now.

Behind me, I feel two knocks on the door, causing me to halt. The only problem is: the knock wasn't above me, it was where my back is against the door. Remind you, I'm currently sitting on the floor. The only way someone can knock that low is if there is a midget behind the door there or someone used something like a cane... it's Greg.

Slowly moving up a little, I shakily open the door and let the grey haired man in, watching as he looks at me with pity. I've never seen the confident doctor House look like this with anyone. It's like a... a totally different Greg.

Sitting down beside me against the door, Greg drops his cane beside him as he sighs and wraps his arm around me before gently tugging my body close to his. Shocked, I tense up, tears no longer pouring out of my eyes. Greg never comforts anyone like this. He always makes fun of them or says something that many people take offense to, but he never... he never cares. He always brushes it off his shoulder, yet for some reason, he seems like he actually cares this time.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice deep as usual with no emotion.

I wait a few seconds before lying. "Nothing important," I tell him, my voice wavering from my scattered emotions.

Pulling me back to face him, Greg looks me in the eye before sighing again. "I know you've been crying by the wet tears on your cheeks, slight puffiness, and redness to your eyes, and fast-paced breathing - and I don’t even have to be a doctor to notice that," he breaks down my current state, lifting an eyebrow. "Now, are you going to begrudgingly tell me what's wrong or do I need to stay in here with you until you finally give in to all my unrelenting sexiness."

His comment makes me laugh, causing a grimace of a smile to fall on House's lips. Out of all of us, I've been the only one to do that. I've been the only one to break Greg's stone exterior and interior. Plus, It doesn't help that I like Greg romantically. I like the fact that he's confident and witty; he's not afraid to be himself. Although, he can still be quite an ass to others, but to me, he’s always been nothing but kind. Even when I first started working here, he was still patient and sweet - a rare sight to everyone else. It used to hurt me to think he’ll never feel the same way as me, but I’ve gotten so used to that fact that it doesn’t even bother me anymore.

"It's just... my family," I explain, Greg pushing my head back onto his shoulder as he holds me. At this point, I'm not shocked by anything he does. The infamous doctor could be high for all I know. He probably took a few Vicodin tablets before coming down here now that I think of it.

"They've completely... shut me out," I explain, shrugging as I rest my hand on his shoulder. "They never talk to me anymore, they've blocked me in any way of even trying to talk to them. My cousin just sent me an email last night telling me that I didn't need to contact them anymore as they no longer wanted me in their lives," I close my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Plus, I wish I could work with you guys again," I take a breath before saying the next thing. "I miss you."

A few seconds of silence pass before Greg leans down to my face level. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by his own sapphire orbs, watching as he continually inches forward until his lips plant themselves on mine. Our eyes close at the same time in response to the touch of our lips, and they stay that way too. With my heart beating fast and a different fire in my cheeks, I instantly respond to his kiss while placing my hands on the sides of his face, feeling his hands attach themselves to my hips as I do so. We kiss until we have to breathe, both of us pulling apart simultaneously.

"They don't deserve you," Greg tells me, a little out of breath. "You are wonderful; a decent and kind human being, inside and out," he takes a small pause, flashing his blue eyes down to mine. "I never thought I’d say this, but… because of you, I think maybe not everyone is a horrible person and that maybe I can be a bit nicer a time or two," he then smiles at me, kissing me once more. "You have made me feel love believe it or not."

Smiling, I lean up to kiss his forehead before sitting back down and resting my head against his chest, my eyes cast upon him as he looks down at me. "You've also made me feel love," I confess to him, my voice shy. "I've grown to love you as well. You and your sarcastic comments and witty comebacks and your insults to apparent stupid people," for once, he laughs, making me grin. "I can't help but love it all."

After a few moments, Greg speaks up. "I know I can't be your entire family," he murmurs, holding me close. "But I can try to be your... your..." He draws on, clearly trying to come up with an appointed title for himself. After a few seconds, I giggle and cut him off.

"Boyfriend?" I ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I was going to say significant other," he argues, looking over to me. "The term boyfriend is so, well, childish," he complains, making me giggle.

Leaning closer, I peck his lips. "Good thing you have a childish mind," I tease him, pressing my lips to his one more time before he responds to my comment with something horrible or completely inappropriate. It is Doctor House we’re talking about, after all.

#greg house #gregory house #gregory house imagines #gregory house imagine #gregory house x reader #greg house imagine #greg house x reader #greg house imagines #house md #house md x reader #house md imagine #house md imagines

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dodo-begone · 3 years

Text

The Mistake has Arrived

Pairing: Yan!DSMP!Techno, Yan!Ranbob!, Yan!Ranbutler x Reader

Request: Do you do continuations? If so could you make a part 2 with for the "mistakes were made" (aka the pregnancy one)? Like how they would act when the child is like actually born and causing mischief?? Please and thank you!

Summary: It seems that, after the baby arrives, things seem to change. It's hard to describe because things didn't change much yet at the same time managed to be the complete opposite of what they were before. Or maybe you hadn't noticed these things before. Who knows.

Word count: 2.1k

Warning: yandere, nsfw joke at the end of Ranbob’s section

Part 1 | Mistakes were Made

If this ever looks wonky/glitched, I have this properly archived on Ao3

A/n: the first part was implied AFAB reader because of pregnancy- and it probably still is but pregnancy is barely mentioned in this.

Techno

So remember when this man was absolutely terrified for you and the baby? Yeah that doesn’t get alleviated. If anything, that fear gets worse.

You holding the child, the perfect combination of you two, makes him truly realize how fragile the baby is. Like hello? This thing is his? And so tiny? Like a potato, a large one at that but still a potato?

Potatoes are fragile. Babies are fragile. Baby is like a potato, which makes them ultra fragile- oh NO.

Let’s get this straight; Techno is the infamous blood god. This huge hulking piglin hybrid who can easily kill anyone in arm’s reach. And then you got this tiny defenceless baby that is related to him? Like he knows how this thing works but it just feels surreal.

This anxiety feeds his distaste for holding his own child. He’s a monster and that’s a sweet innocent baby. He is going to severely harm the baby by even holding it. You never know what could happen- plus you need some mother-child bonding. It’s very important. Yes you may have been carrying that baby for 9 months but some more physical touch goes a long way. It grounds it more into reality for you. Yeah, that’s totally the reason.

The behavior can only last so long though. Eventually Techno would have to bond with his kid, hold his kid. You were getting fed up with how long he was taking. His anxiety over the situation was obvious and you were giving him space. So you did, but it’s been months and he still refuses to even touch them. His avoidance is annoying and it has to come to an end. And you will make sure it will.

One day, while he was relaxing and reading, you gently plop the baby onto Techno and go do some household chores that are usually hard when you have to keep an eye and ear out for the kid at every second.

Techno and the kid have a shared moment of “wtf” because the baby saw this thing before but he never touched it before. And they were left on it? By mother? Techno is internally freaking out while this baby tries to crawl on him. Really they’re just pulling at his hair and clothing. Anything they can get their grubby little hands onto. And gum on whatever they can get into their mouth. Oh god, this is going to be a long… period of time. He doesn’t really know when you’ll come back for them but he hopes it’s soon.

It’s safe to say that you did not come to Techno’s rescue in a swift manner. You made sure to take your time doing everything that couldn’t be properly done. Like cleaning or cooking a proper meal. Cooking had been left up to Techno mostly, and you really appreciated that he took that up and made good food but someone can only handle potato based dishes for so long. It was about time that something else was made. The potatoes needed a break.

When you come back to Techno and the baby, you’re so pleased to see that they’re having a little bonding moment. The baby was calm and Techno was finally relaxed in what felt like a century. Everything was perfect.

Techno was reading Sun Tzu’s The Art of War and your sweet baby child had long dozed off in his arms. Techno either didn’t notice or didn’t care and kept reading aloud, though it was mostly likely that he wanted to start education young. Even in their sleep. He started the education process already, in a way, by reading The Art of War to your pregnant stomach for months on end. You’d long grown tired of it, but the sight and sound of Techno reading still warmed your heart.

Ranbob

Nothing changes on his knowledge of babies. Not much, anyways. Some of the information he knows on babies came directly from you. The rest came from books found around Mizu.

In theory, he knows what to do. He read up on everything he’d need to know, after all. But in practice, it’s a whole different story. Anxiety occasionally comes to haunt him but he easily waves it off. He knows what he’s doing.

When Mizu was still populated, he observed the lives of others. There wasn’t much to do besides that. Children weren’t an uncommon sight. But babies? Now that wasn’t a common sight. Not many people brought their babies out. Nor were there many.

It’s understandable for him to not know exactly how to raise a baby. Unless you raised or helped to raise a baby, you aren’t exactly well versed in baby and are therefore slightly unprepared for said baby.

Though compared to children, he’s actually more prepared to care for the baby since there were so many books about baby care and stuff they’d need. Children are a whole different beast.

With children, it’s a more individual case-to-case deal. There aren’t any parenting guides on children. Well, there are. Though they all differ from each other. Each book has its own descriptions on why a behavior is happening and how to handle or fix it. So many differing opinions that overlapped were overwhelming. Ranbob soon came to the conclusion that childcare is more interpretive. Based on the child’s personality.

That’s way in the future though. Now he has to deal with a baby. A fragile little thing. It’s perfect in every way.

Now his anxiety starts to get the better of him. He’s so much bigger than it, much stronger. The baby is completely at his mercy and he is anxious that something bad may happen to it. Realistically, though, nothing bad is going to happen to his little family.

Once he holds the baby for the first time, all previous anxiety is taken by the wind. All that remains is absolute adoration. This leads to him caring for the baby almost entirely. Or when it’s least convenient for you, that is.

Like when your babe cries late into the night. Witching hour cries. Everytime without fail, he’d awaken and swiftly make his way to the nursery. All in an attempt to allow you to sleep. You’ve already done so much work to make the child. The least he could do was wake up and care for them. Plus you still looked so tired.

Although Ranbob was tired when morning came, it didn’t matter when you came out well rested. Or much better than the day before. Each day was a slight victory in his books. He only wanted the best for you, anyways. If sacrificing a few hours of sleep meant that you’d sleep better, then so be it.

He views your child as a blessing from Dream himself. A symbol of the union between you two. Just absolute perfection. Oh how lucky he is to have you and especially fortunate to have a child with you. His god has seen his hard work and has gifted him with so much more than he deserved. But he’d take it all the same.

If you two “accidently” had another kid, he’d be more than happy. Yes, he’s content and happy with the child you two already have. His life is perfect now. But if another addition just happened to come along? Well who is he to deny his god’s will?

aka he wants to weaken his pullout game to have another kid with you. One kid is enough but two? Oh that’d be swell!

Ranbutler

Compared to the previous two, Ranbutler’s reaction to the baby’s arrival would be labeled as “different”. Techno feared for his child, Ranbob was anxious, but Ranbutler? This man is ecstatic! Oh my gosh you two finally have a kid. Isn’t this just great?

His excitement level is astronomical. Come on, this man literally acts like this baby is going to achieve world wide peace or something. Like Jesus Christ incarnated. That’s the level of excitement he’s at.

Right from the get-go, Ranbutler is almost desperate in his attempts to hold the baby. Please? Pretty please? Why can’t he hold your baby? Our baby? Though as… desperate as he is to hold his child, he doesn’t want to disturb important mother-child bonding. Even if you carried them for around nine months, it’s still vital that you actually bond to your baby. Skin-to-skin early on is important.

At the next available time, most likely when you’re asleep or on the verge of sleeping, he’ll gently remove the child from atop your chest. Of course he’d go to the next comfiest and secure place he can and allow for some skin-to-skin between him and the baby.

According to some studies, skin contact with a baby supposedly “awakens” maternal or paternal and he was more than happy to test that out. If it worked? Then that’s great! If it didn’t work? What was the harm? It’s all good in the end.

Because of the nature of his job, you often don’t see him during the day. Both a blessing and a curse. This leaves you alone to care for the baby until he comes back. Even then, it wasn’t a guarantee that he’d help. That’s what you thought, at least.

No matter how exhausted he was or how irate he was from Billiam, the sight of your and the baby always made everything right in the world. All problems just dissolved away, becoming unimportant whispers of responsibilities.

Responsibilities that seemed to come from a whole different reality. Here, at home, the mess that’s Billiam doesn’t exist. Won’t ever affect his lovely little world.

Sometimes he comes home extremely late. So late that you already went to sleep, along with the baby. Occasionally you would try to stay up for him to come home. You were laying on the couch with the baby on your chest, what else was he to presume? That was obviously what you were doing, right?

On those nights, he would sit by you and just watch. Basking in the calm energy you exude. Even without talking to him, you always had a way of calming him down. Of making him feel loved and appreciated.

He would also take care of the baby's needs at night. With his occupation as Billiam’s servant, it really wasn’t the best idea, but he assured you that he would be fine. After all, he couldn’t bond with the baby during the day, so that only left the night. Even if it was menial tasks, he found solace in the presence of the family he was creating,

A question that kept reappearing was how he managed to get such a wonderful partner. One so willing to have a child with him. Deep down, he knew the actual answer, but it was hidden under so many layers of delusions that it’d be better and easier not to deal with that mess.

Now that you had the baby to care for, he was much more willing to leave you alone while he went to work. Yes, sometimes he still brought you into the room with The Egg. But that was only because you seemed stressed the day, night, or morning before he left.

How could he just leave his precious to flounder around so helplessly? A baby can easily be overwhelming. The Egg was more than willing to help you.

The kid, although a beautiful culmination of the love between the two of you, also symbolized another thing. They were a shackle, keeping you tethered to him.

There was no way you’d be able or wish to escape in such a fragile condition. Especially with the baby. How could you risk the life of something so innocent? Of something that did absolutely nothing wrong besides existing. You wouldn’t be such a horrible monster, would you? No, he knows you. Knows that you wouldn’t do that.

Once he has a taste for parenthood, he’s practically addicted. He absolutely loves it. Loves you. Why not have another? And another? And another?

Let’s be honest, he might just want a small herd of kids. Not many, like four or five. A few more wouldn’t do too much harm, but he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. After all, you’d be around them the most, being the primary caretaker for them all.

The desire for a large family comes into direct conflict with his desire to not make you overwhelmed and overworked. It was a hard battle, but he convinced himself that maybe just one more wouldn’t hurt. Just one more, and that’ll be the last he’ll want.

He’ll say that for the next three he plans to have with you. Can men get baby fever? If they can, then this man definitely would have it, just saying.

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heyitsyn · 4 years

Text

Nekoma!Manager!Male!Reader

a/n: never written male reader before but this was a funny request and i really do see the irony in this

anon request:

absolutely LOVED your seijoh hcs! you said you wanted to do the other schools so i thought, how about nekoma but with a MALE manager bc it would be so ironic to have a male god as their manager rather than a goddess that they always talked about!! thank youuuuuuu!!!!!!!

yall the nekoma fanchant is literally stuck in my head

hehe uwu lets step on the pedal

ong jesus take the wheel pls

so basically,,,

being the nekoma manager is a MESS

lets say youre a second year and was only the manager bc you were begged into taking the job

like wouldnt leave you alone and pestered you 25/8, screaming about needing their own god manager

also just because, you are fairly popular and you have your own fanclub of girls in nekoma and they thought it would give them more exposure and more chances w girls :’)

tora was actually the first who came up to you and begged you to be their manager during class one day bc they are in need of one but they arent allowed to have a girl manager so he turned to having a handsome male

‘I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY IT HAS TO BE A BOY’

‘so you wont be all over him abd be distracted w showing off’

‘WHO ARE YOU TO QUESTION MY SE-’

‘tora, please’

initially, you refused bc you just couldnt be bothered to be part of a club where you basically babysit a bunch of overgrown children

but kenma, your childhood friend, was the team’s last attempt to get you in since kuroo mentioned that he was the only one you listened to

‘kenma, babie, i love you, but i am your friend, not your nanny. so unless i am paid, i will not waste my time taking care of of all of you. especially that chicken head’

‘y/n, yaku is on his last leg here. we really need a manager and we need it fast’

‘you went for years without one so why do you need it?’

‘we’re scared that nekomata would just drop dead any minute now’

‘yanno? im surprised hes even still alive with yall’

‘....... ill show your fangirls that picture of you when we were 5 when-’

‘okay, kenma. rude about the blackmail but okay. dont expect me to be the maid or anything’

nope, you were actually the maid

and the cook

and the nanny

and the laundry person

the everything

it baffles you that kuroo is about to graduate next year yet he still doesnt know the difference between fabric softener and detergent

the amount of times you sent him to pick up more and only to send him back when he ended up buying 2 softeners or 2 detergents

‘they all look the same!’

‘kuroo tetsuro cAN yOu NoT rEAd?!’

ngl i still mix them up sometimes

during matches, youre basically their mother, their nanny, and nekomata’s notetaker, and their personal cheerleader

naoi, the other coach guy, and coach nekomata has adopted you as a son bc of how hard you work and the less the burden is on them

like your notes about their playing percentages really works and helps them and added with the chores you do for the team?

godsend

also, lets put your popularity in here

you dress with a white shirt and zip up your red nekoma jacket with your red sweatpants so you look like one of the players, right?

but how come every time they have practice, youre the only one with the fangirls in the bleachers?

youre literally wearing the same thing as them yet youre the only one who gets looked at?!

even kuroo, who was quite good looking, doesnt have that many girls pining after him yet you, resident anti-tryhard, seems to get the female population to fall for you just by doing the simplest things like breathing

youd be doing normal things like using your whistle as you hold a clipboard and girls would be screeching at you

‘omg m/n is so hot!’

‘hes just !!!! uuggghhhh’

‘siri how to be a whistle?’

i am uncomfortable with the energy we have created in the gym today

tora complains about it all the time bc first, they cant have a beautiful manager, two, they have a pretty boy who’s taking the attention away

‘SO NOT FAIR! M/N, TURN UGLY!’

you bonk him on the head in anger and threaten to quit all the time

‘say that again and you’ll be filling your own water bottles tomorrow’

but in truth though, the guys really do appreciate you and everything you do

they know that you balance them with your personal life and classes and still make time to do their laundry and make them food

so they have started easing off the burden and weight off of your shoulders

at first, you were very suspicious when they told you that they already filled their water bottles

‘huh? i didnt think you even knew where the water fountain was’

‘wym weve been doing this for years’

-kuroo

then, you heard kuroo tell the others to put their sweaty jerseys in the basket in the corner of the room and for the last person to carry it to the laundromat

‘um, sir, we dont want to have another pink jersey disaster again’

you stopped inuoka from lugging the basket but he shook his head and gave you a wide grin

‘nope, m/n-senpai! i’ll carry it for you! i’m strong, see?’

he flexed his right arm muscle while holding the basket with one hand but it was too heavy so it fell to the ground, spilling out all the practice jerseys

you sighed before bending down to pick them up and babie inuoka’s eyes watered, thinking you were mad at him

‘gomen, senpai’

he whispered but you looked up at him from your position

his watery eyes made you frantically stand up and wipe his tears with the pads of your thumbs

‘inu-kun, why are you crying? you said you were strong right? dont cry over silly things, okay?’

he nodded and you were still confused as to why he was so emotional but you patted his fluffy hair

‘now cmon, lets go take these to the shop’

unbeknownst to you, the team was actually seething from behind the wall

naturally, as a,,, manager,, you became their,,, energy??

like the slightest affections from you made their health bar increase tenfold and they didnt necessarily have any intentions towards you

you were like,,, their own,,,, happy drug?? like a human seratonin??

just the fact that they had someone like you to fall back on and give them love when they lost or something

it was comforting

usually it was just the team’s responsibility to throw away their own sadness and comfort each other

but with you,,,

they could easily cry with no fear and you would comfort them until they didnt need to be comforted anymore

eventually, they ended up straight out competing against each other on who would get the most affection

clearly, inuoka used his first year card and everyone knew you were soft for your kouhais

like you would just grab them and hug them because of how cute they were

uwu especially lev?!

he may be a giant but hes just a really REALLY REALLY BIG CAT

;)

LEV LIVES TO HUG YOU

like the mans is beanstalk level of height and despite the age difference, he just picks you up and cuddles you and youre just like ‘okay, let it out babie’

DKSFJSLD ANYWAYS

you are always a hot topic w all the students in nekoma and even some in other schools

like during training camp, bro you making everyone question their sexuality

omg akaashi and you are probably the prettiest people there and can i just say how everyone cant focus on a practice match bc youd be laughing together or something and they havent heard anything so beautiful??

and the kitties get really defensive over you and hiss at anyone who even tries to approach you

hiss hiss

DKJFSLKDFJDWHAT IF EVERYONE IN THE TEAM IS BI

OMG WHAT

like the little touches from you make them so red and confident gays like kuroo and bokuto call you out on them and tease you

while the quiet ones like akaashi and kenma are just blushing and stutter and you tease them instead?

*inhale* BOI *exhale*

the uke and seme dynamic is real on this one

however, there are times when the turned tables

there was that one day that you were seriously questioning if bokuto wore leggings or just really high knee pads and you cornered him after baths to just figure it out

like our poor confident boi turned to a shy babie and shrunk against the wall, covering his red face

‘y-y/n-kun’

‘bo-san, i just want to know’

DKFSJLKDFJFJSDKIM DYING OVER HERE LIKE PLEASE I DONT OWN Y/N

after seeing the smidge of skin at the top of the kneepad, you nodded and brushed your fingertips over the flesh

‘hmm~ so i was right~’

FROM THEN ON POOR BABIE OWL COULDNT LOOK AT YOU THE SAME!!!!!!

it worried everyone so much when bokuto would glance at you in the sidelines and he would competely miss akaashi’s set bc his eyes would focus on you rather than the ball

like he absolutely couldnt take his eyes off of you and when you do turn to meet his eyes, he shrinks back and looks away, completely missing your amused smirk

now, your kitties werent happy about that

theyre very protective of you and they felt that this owl could snatch you right up and fly away

and kuroo, being the captain and the head of the familia, took it upon himself and dragged you to the back of the gym while the others were practicing

kurat pushed you against the wall and basically kabedonned you

KUROO IS LIKE 6′2 OR 190 CM I CANT

‘you seem close with bokuto, l/n. almost, too,, close’

an amused smirk etched itself on your lips and you pressed a hand on his chest

‘oya~? captain-san, am i being punished?’

SFDKLFSJKLDFJL SIR Y/N IS SUPPOSED TO RADIATE SEME ENERGY BUT HE ISNT AND I CANNOT-

ofc he was taken aback by your flirty attitude but he smirked and softly brushed away your bangs that slightly covered your eyes

‘hmm~~ depends, y/n-kun. are you going to be a good kitty and stay with the clowder? or are you going to stay with those pesky chickens~?’

DKFLSJDKFJSL BRO DID YOU KNOW A GROUP OF CATS IS CALLED A CLOWDER?! I DIDNT EVEN KNOW THAT BUT I HAVE A FEELING KUROO WOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT BC HE BIG BRAIN

you chuckled and gently wrapped your arms around his shoulders

but your hand grabbed the hair at the back of his head and harshly pulled him to be closer to you

your eyes blinked innocently but your sharp teeth were shown from your malicious grin

‘ive always been a bad kitty, captain. so i dont care what you say because you cant tell me what to do~’

👀👀👀👀

imagine what happens next bc i cant write something unholy

anyways

so you learned that tetsu CAN in fact tell you what to do and you avoided everyone else which caused them to wonder but one look at your neck

well,,,,,

you got attacked by a cat

a cat named tetsu

SKDFLJSDKFJSLKUROO IS THE ONLY SEME YOU CLASH WITH

THE OTHERS ARE ALL UKE

EVEN BEEFY BUFF CAKE BOI BO

but you toned it down to not be attacked again

ngl the whole team was all jealous and they even whined to kuroo about it

‘thats not fair!!!!’

‘stop abusing your role as captain!!!!’

they hated the fact that kuroo got you first so they all rally over to keep you away from him

like baby kenma would nudge you over and bring him to sit next to you, saying he needs you to help him with a certain level

‘kenny, im not sure how to play this game’

‘hmm,,,, youre a quick learner, y/n, and youre really quick with your fingers so you could pass to the next level’

*insert lenny face*

‘oya? and you would know how, kenny?’

and baby kenny would fluster a little before glomping to your side and burying his face into your shoulder to hide away

the first years would absolutely use their kouhai priviledges and bring you over to help them with ‘homework’

‘you guys realize i passed because kuroo would beat me into studying right?’

‘but senpai! you mustve learned a thing or two in your classes!’

‘bold of you to assume i was even awake in my classes’

but they still make you spend hours trying to help them which turn into just messing around

KSDLFJSDKFJD MOVIE NIGHTS YOU GUYS THATS IT!!

there isnt really a single calm moment in your guys’ practice

poor you have already started seeing lot of gray hairs

you literally decline every single confession just because youre too busy for a date and you cant handle having to take care of another person

its like youre dating the whole team!!

soon the entire school have just accepted the fact that you are just simply not in the market anymore just because you joined the club

not because youre actually taken by a girlfriend but youre taken by a bunch of teenage males

imagine how that works out

anyways

youre not really the best volleyball player out there but you know a thing or two

well,,, its more like your stamina doesnt allow you to play long bc a single lap literally destroys your lungs

but you still know when yaku complains about having a shaky receive

‘oh, momo-senpai, youre bending your knees too low so gravity is pushing down on your-’

ugh chemistry i hate it

despite your lack of athletic or physical skills, they still appreciate you for your keen eyes, your caring nature, and your overall looks that give them motivation to play harder to impress you personality :)

all the boys love you

and tbh

you love your boys too

even though it was a blackmail caused event,

you still would’ve joined otherwise

this is kinda short but its going to be longer if i find some plots or somebody asks for a plotline that i can write about for a long time

anyways

byeeeee :)))))

a/n: this isnt exactly the best manager one ive written but ill probably find a good prompt for this or again as stated ^^ someone sends in an ask for it and ill write a story for our favorite male manager :’D

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

home sweet home.

[ read devil in a new suit ]

i just really, really wanted to explore a bit about kook’s family because i think it shines a big light on who this adorable baby is. i hope you enjoy! xo

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. explicit. tags. you’ll get cavities from reading this, honestly. but also, very light smut in the form of: inappropriate bullet egg use and tit groping (again, kook is a boob guy). wc. 1.7k.

You meet his parents on a Sunday afternoon, invited to their palatial home for family brunch. It’s the first one you’ve been invited to, despite the fact you and Jungkook have been dating for what feels like forever (but in reality is only six months).

Mama Jeon is an intimidating woman with a deceptively sweet face, aging gracefully around her eyes, the barely there lines upon her hands doing little to detract from her beauty. She holds herself with immeasurable grace, practically dances into her son’s embrace when the two of you step into the modernist’s dream, chicly decorated and swathed in neutral tones. It reminds you vaguely of Jungkook’s apartment - but decidedly more refined. Same colour palette, though.

“Jungkook-ah,” she hums, patting adoringly at his cheek when he passes a kiss against hers, looking every inch the mama’s boy he is.

“Eomma,” he returns, so giddy it makes your heart soar in your chest. He’s so easy to love - and so easily loving, offering the world to the woman who’d raised and loved him. Two hands - the picture of respect - pass over the box of pastries you’d picked up on your way, the bag of too-expensive fruit topping the container. (Apparently, his mother loves grapes, but only green ones.) “These are for you— from us.”

Now is when he gestures to you - standing just to the side, beyond his shoulder - with a flourish comparable to that of a game show host. It’s adorable how eager he is, beaming proudly at his eomma as he reaches for your hand, squeezes it tight between his own tattooed one.

When she turns to you, her expression is inscrutable.

This woman isn’t someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, offers pleasantries for the sake of it. She’s confident and critical (but soft, somehow, for the people she loves most), forged from steel and refined by experience. You’re simultaneously awed and afraid, a mixture of emotion you’re not quite used to.

She levels you with a look. A moment passes, then another. You wonder if your smile falters, eclipsed by the grey of her stare. (You feel like that one girl from that one movie about those crazy rich… what was it?)

Finally, she speaks, drags her eyes from your shoes - red Ferragamo pumps, with the signature bow detailing on the toe - up to your face. It feels more like a stringent assessment than a casual perusal, stirring heat beneath the colour of your blouse. You’re not nervous, per se, but you want her to like you. Right now, you can’t tell if she does - probably have a higher chance of winning the lottery than getting an answer. “Lovely to meet you, ____.” Her tone is warm enough, polite and paired with a tiny nod of her sophisticat head.

The patriarch of the family is the opposite of his mother, endlessly genial and full of booming laughter. It reminds you a little of Jungkook’s own giggle, but somehow more - rounded by years and years of full-belly laughing and further ingrained by the wrinkles around his eyes.

Just like his mother, Mr. Jeon is slim, good-looking in a way that comes from proper self-care and living an easy life. (Not that it’d always been this way, you remind yourself. Jungkook had told you how hard his parents had worked - all the long hours his father had put into getting where he was, able to support his wife and two children.) He encourages his son’s stories and looks fondly at his daughter - the spitting image of her mother, with the same round stare as Jungkook.

When your bowl runs empty, he makes sure it’s refilled, nodding in approval when his son is the one to make it happen. When his wife makes an off-hand comment in response to a story, he’s the one to chide her, however gently. He’s not nearly as sharp as she is, softly rounded edges like the toe of his slippers, the natural sag of his jaw with time.

(You get it now. Meeting his parents for the first time, juxtaposed so hilariously against each other, it all makes sense. Who Jungkook is, how he is equal parts soft and yielding and hesitant and distant. Why he smiles so freely - with wrinkles you see aged nearly three decades in his father’s face - but loves so tenderly, offering it with whispers of affection that you might miss, should you look away.)

His father asks you questions like he really cares, nodding thoughtfully each time he learns a little bit more about you.

“How did you two meet?” He’s bright-eyed, curious over the coffee mug he sandwiches in his grip. You imagine he’s heard the story - must have heard some form of it in passing from Jungkook - but you appreciate his interest nonetheless. He just wants to see the perspective from someone other than his lovestruck son.

You can’t help but laugh, sucking in your cheeks like you always do when you’re contemplative. Jungkook shifts at your side, drops his inked palm over your covered knee and squeezes. You’re not sure whether he’s reassuring you or himself with the gesture.

“He actually kept coming into my store.” It’s not a lie. Certainly not as scandalous as the full truth, but a truth nonetheless. That is how you’d met.

“Your store?” It’s Jisoo, curious and pretty from her seat where she’s still picking at the desserts you’d brought over. (She’s a fan of tart and tangy flavours, unlike her brother.) “Do you own a shop or something?”

You wonder how much she knows. You know she’s younger than either you or your partner, a student at Korea National University. Part of their dance program, if you’re not mistaken. You’d heard all about it a few weeks ago, when she’d sent a video to Jungkook and he’d raved about it nonstop, so proud of his little sister you couldn’t even make fun of him.

“I work at CELINE.”

That earns a noise of delight from Jisoo (together with an “oh my god, that’s so cool”) and a polite albeit disinterested nod from Mr. Jeon (if his nondescript but stylish clothes are any indication, luxury fashion isn’t his top priority).

What you don’t expect - what you just barely not from the corner of your eye - is the surprise written across Mrs. Jeon’s expression. As if she’s just learned something groundbreaking.

“You have a job?” Maybe she doesn’t mean it how it comes out, disbelieving and abrupt. You don’t let it rub you the wrong way, nodding. (You know where she’s coming from - you feel the same way about his exes as she does, it seems.) She’s hardly looking at you now, though, gaze trained on her beloved son. There’s a silent conversation happening between them - something you’re not privy to, an exchange held only with those matching eyes of theirs.

He’s upon you the moment he climbs into his car, clumsily knocking against the centre console as he drags your body closer, forces your knees apart with his hand unceremoniously shoved all the way into your silk crepe trousers.

“She likes you.” The words are muffled against your lips - already spit slick and swollen by how savagely he attacks them, tugs your bottom between his teeth and nibbles.

You know he means his mother. She’d hugged you on your way out, patted gently at your upper arm when she’d sent you both off with some leftovers in pretty ceramic containers. It’d been a surprising farewell from the woman who had otherwise kept you at arm’s length through most of brunch, offering small smiles and exchanging only the basest of pleasantries.

You have to admit - it feels a bit like taming a lion. You’re high on the feeling and it seems Jungkook is too, utterly delighted as he drags his finger through the arousal that’s all but ruined your thong, thin material shoved aside by his deft movements.

“Your sister?” You laugh - sound bitten off by the edge of your teeth when he teases at your folds, presses the tip of his fingers over your clit and circles back enough times to make you shudder.

He’s sucking into the sensitive spot beneath your ear, catching your earlobe with the wet point of his canines. “My mom,” he mumbles, burying himself into your skin as if he’d happily live there, make a home between your bones if you’d let him. (You would.) “She hugged you.” Hilariously enough, he sounds just as surprised as you.

“She did,” you hum - sigh when the pressure in your abdomen increases, mirroring the same one between your legs. He’s pulling gently at the cord peeking past your lips, tugging at the smooth pink egg snug within your pussy. It’s not on now - not like it had been all through brunch - but it still feels absurdly good, perfectly shaped just the right amount of stimulation against your fluttering walls.

Jungkook makes the softest noise, one that sounds like his heart falling into place, his soul settling where it feels most comfortable. It’s at odds with the way he gropes your chest over the smocked bodice of your blouse, seeking out the hardened bud of your nipple beneath layers of chiffon and macrame.

The tiny vibrator continues fucking into you, muscle walls clenching around it each time he yanks on the cord and then lets it fall back into place. You wish it were his fingers (wish it were his cock, more than that) but your pants fit too-well, tailored slim around your waist and flaring over your ankles.

Your 70’s pants, as your silly boyfriend liked to call them.

“I can’t wait to get you home.” It’s so dreamy, hazy with affection that overwhelms you. He’s looking at you so sweetly now, forehead resting against yours, entire palm pressed to your cunt. “K-knew you were always perfect but—” You lose sight of his lovely doe eyes, your own sliding closed when he stamps a kiss to your mouth, so terribly sweet it’s reminiscent of the cheesecake you’d just had.

You understand what he means without him having to finish the thought, smile of your own acting as the ending punctuation to your conversation.

Family means everything to him. Now, you were one step closer to being part of it.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

393 notes · View notes

pynkhues · 3 years

Note

What advice can you give for making a dialogue sequence flow better. Rather than just saying he said, she said, etc.? Please and thank you (●'◡'●)

Hi! That’s a great question, anon!

I know it was definitely something I struggled with when I was a newer writer because so often I think when we’re first approaching writing, we tend to put a lot of weight in dialogue. That’s not a bad thing necessarily, dialogue is an important part of storytelling, more so for some writers than others. Amy Sherman-Palladino who created Gilmore Girls and The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is a very dialogue-driven writer for instance, whereas Vince Gilligan who created Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul often prioritises silence and lets visual language stand alone, but the way they use the dialogue they have, whether it be with a light touch or a heavy hand, isn’t really about the dialogue at all, it’s about tone and rhythm.

As you grow as a writer, I think you start to get more of a sense of what that means, but an example and an exercise I use a lot when I’m teaching creative writing is to take the scenario of two girls walking through a forest. Try writing it as a horror, and then try writing it as a light drama. The scenario itself can be either, it’s the tone that creates the story, and as a part of that, what changes is setting and environment, dialogue, and actions.

In one, you’ll have twisting branches and darkness and panicked breaths and scrambling hands, and in the other you’ll have lush trees and warm midday light and laughter and gentle touches.

You’ll also have very different dialogue, and therefore very different context for which that dialogue is delivered. What helps it flow, as you put it, is something that’s responsive to the story that you’re telling and what else is happening in the scene.

So! Let’s break that down a little!

When you're thinking about anything on a scene level, I think it really boils down to six questions:

What's the story you're telling?

What's the purpose of your scene?

Where are your characters? What is the environment they're in?

What are they doing as they talk?

What is the context of the characters' relationship?

How are the characters feeling?

That's kind of a lot, haha, so I'll try to keep this relatively short.

What’s the story you’re telling?

This really comes back to what I was saying above about the story you’re telling having an impact on how you use all narrative devices whether that be dialogue, description or setting. It would make no sense for Walt in Breaking Bad to talk like Lorelai from Gilmore Girls or vice versa for instance – that’s not the story that the writers are trying to tell. Walt’s limited dialogue helps to reflect his secretive nature and the dark mood of the story overall, while Lorelai’s rapid-fire dialogue and tendency to be doing a lot while she talks reflects the frenetic energy of the show and the gravitational pull she has on those around Star’s Hollow.

The dialogue – and the way that dialogue is delivered – helps to embed the viewer or reader and create a tone that matches the story you want to tell.

What’s the purpose of your scene?

More than that, how you use dialogue and the cues around dialogue helps to realise the purpose of your scene.

All scenes have a purpose.

Scenes are the building blocks of your story. They are what get you from the floor to the ceiling, and you need to know what each of those building blocks is doing.

That doesn't have to be a lot! Sometimes a building block is just 'character has a bird poop on them on their way to the party'. On its own, the scene might seem light, but the purpose is actually to set up that they're about to have a really bad time at the party. That's great! Because you know the purpose of that scene therefore is Foreshadowing.

The point is though that that purpose - whether big or small - will impact the way your characters behave and interact not only with other characters, but the environment around them.

If the purpose is, for instance, two characters misunderstanding each other, they’ll likely be frustrated or hurt, which will contribute to not just what they say, but their tone of voice and their posture, and the space. They might feel the chill of the air conditioning a little more acutely, grab a couch cushion to hug to their chest, distract themselves by putting dishes away with stiff hands, push a hip into the kitchen counter hard enough to leave a mark.

Purpose informs tone which informs character which informs action.

Which brings me to a big point.

Where are your characters? What is the environment that they’re having this conversation in?

This is something I see often neglected in writing from newer writers. Which is a shame! Space can bring so much to your story – not only in terms of grounding your readers, but providing entry points and understanding to your characters state of mind without you having to explicitly say it. How your characters feel that environment, what they focus on, is a way to explore how they’re feeling and can punctuate your dialogue (but I’ll come back to that point in a minute).

For instance, things like weather and temperature, wide open spaces vs tiny, cluttered rooms, other characters in those environments (I always encourage people to draw diagrams of rooms and map out character action. It might sound a little silly, but trust me, it helps a LOT), and the characteristics of those spaces (like I said above with barren, twisting branches vs lush trees as a very broad example) are all things that are going to contribute to the way you build a scene.

And more than that, what your character’s doing as they talk.

Which, hey! What are they doing as they talk?

It’s pretty rare for people to do nothing as they have a conversation – they doodle on sketchbooks, or roll their eyes, take sips of their drink, flail and gesture, reach out to touch the other person's hand, pet their dog, check their phones, get dressed or undressed – and that’s not even including the bigger acts that might be in your story – running from an enemy, cooking a feast for a huge party, getting into a fistfight, hacking into a secret government database, etc etc.

This is often a question I fall back on, and try to imbue in my writing. Take this little bit from Clean Like Him, where Beth is having a tense conversation with Rio in Paper Porcupine.

“Official launches make businesses feel real,” she says tersely instead, irritation seeping into her tone as she slashes the last row of paper. She collects the cuttings, organises the notes and checks the edges, mostly just to have something to do with her hands. So they won’t hang awkward at her sides or balled into fists or – worse – touch him somehow (god, why is she thinking about touching him? Stupid. She clears her throat. Refocuses.) “And if this is going to work, we need it to feel real, remember?”

Beth's working, but I explicitly say she wants to have something to do with her hands to distract herself from him, and her actions are jerky, her task a little aggressive, which is really about showing that she's on edge and punctuating a tenser tone.

The point is, all of these things are actions that are going to interrupt and interact with your dialogue and what that feels like depends on history and feelings.

Who's having the conversation, and what's the history of their relationship?

This might sound like an obvious one, but I think sometimes people can underestimate the impact that it actually has on an exchange. How familiar your characters are with one another and what the context of their relationship is has huge impacts on how a scene plays out and what a character might be doing.

Beth and Rio for instance knowing each other so well and not knowing each other at all is actually a pretty complicated dynamic to capture, especially when it's often paralleled with Beth and Dean who also know each other so well and not at all but in a completely different way, haha. These contexts though are going to affect how they interact. After all, Beth's not going to treat Rio the same way she treats Dean because that history and that context is different.

Really thinking about what that means is going to help you to think about the way these characters interact both broadly and specifically to what you're writing, which in turn is going to help you start to find a rhythm to their conversation.

How are your character’s feeling?

This is really the lynchpin of all of the above. How your character is feeling is going to define the purpose of your scene, how they interact with their environment and other characters, and what it is they’re doing. A character who’s frazzled is going to have more scattered dialogue, a more urgent tone, they’re going to pick up the wrong thing or lose things and their relationship with their space will be different.

Think of Beth in 2.07 when Jane’s missing. She and Dean go to a private space – his home office – to have a fight even though their house is full of police, neighbours and friends, and Beth is furious at him, and he throws something historic at her (and important to the context of their current relationship) - Rio shooting him - to deflect from his failure as a parent.

Immediately afterwards, Beth is frazzled and desperate. Her tone becomes harried, she can’t find her car keys and rummages through her handbag and the things on the hall table, even though she’s holding them, something Ruby has to point out, and then she leaves to find Rio to try and get him to help her.

The dialogue itself is there to build tone and atmosphere and in fact, Beth’s dialogue with Dean is punctuated by her tone and anger, not her words – she doesn’t tell Dean she doesn’t think Rio would ever take the children, she throws the question back at him and her fury is what tells us as an audience what she thinks.

Tone is what generates atmosphere and meaning, and to work out what your tone is is to understand the purpose of your scene and your character’s feelings, which in turn determines how they respond to their environment and tasks, and it’s that response that punctuates feelings and tone.

It’s all a bit of a snake eat tail situation, haha, but my point is, thinking about dialogue tags and flow is really thinking about the energy and context of an interaction, and the tone and the purpose of a scene. Think about sensory description, think about space, think about what a character might be doing as they navigate that interaction, and think about how you can use that to further explore the character’s interior life.

But most importantly, always be thinking about what you want your readers to take away from the interaction.

I’ve plucked another scene out of my most recent fic, Clean Like Him, just because it’s still pretty fresh in my head, and I've marked a few of these points in these screenshots (please open the image in a new tab so you can, y'know, actually read it, haha)

A lot of this excerpt is reliant on the context of Beth and Dean's relationship and the reality that Beth is using him but also still feels tied to him through their history, which in turn makes her feel guilty.

This is the second scene in the fic, so there's a lot of establishing stuff that comes up again later too – particularly Dean's insecurity and ego failings, and the fact that he diminishes and doesn't see her. Things like interruptions, like mid-conversation pivots, like wounded puppy expressions and Beth deliberately tuning him out are all utilised as active dialogue tags, but also tone and mood builders which hopefully creates the rhythm of the story.

You don't necessarily have to think about all this at once either. A lot of this sort of stuff I tend to work out more when I'm re-writing - so I'll already have a barer bones draft which is more about me putting the scene purpose down on paper; because, like I said, that's really the most important thing.

So yes! Sorry! That got a bit long, haha. I hope it's a help though, anon! Let me know if you have any questions 😊

#as always this is just advice #just stuff i've learned over the many many years at this point haha #hopefully though it's helpful to you anon!#and anyone else who's interested!#writing #writing advice #welcome to my ama

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echodrops · 3 years

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I’m obviously late to the tumble party... but I stumbled across your Notagami Essays posts and they are absolutely Fabulous! Love your writing and the amount of detail you go into :)

So I figured you may be a good person to ask - if you just had to guess (bc as far as I know it’s never been officially confirmed?) but if you had to take a guess or give a rough estimate, how old do you think Yato was when he first met Sakura? We know he’s estimated to be at least a thousand years old, we know he’s - from the start of the series to present - estimated to be somewhere between 18 and his early 20s (physically)... but I can’t find a single thing/discussion/post/stickynote/whatever where it talks about how old he might have been when he first met Sakura - let alone the emotional/psychological effects of Sakura coming into his life and introducing healthy mindset/morals/maternal-influence etc. etc. (obviously no mom and Father’s neglect played a big role in him not knowing how inappropriate it was for him to ‘accidentally touch’ and yell “boobs!” but you can also just say he was so young he didn’t know how inappropriate that was?) My point is: how old do you think Yato was (physically anyway) at the time of their meeting? and Do you know of any discussions or care to share your opinion on how being the no more than the age of blank affected his mental/emotional understanding of Sakura teaching him a new narrative?

Sorry this is a random out of the blue ask 😅😓 if I rambled on and you don’t feel like answering, I get it, just figured it was worth asking :)

I fell down a serious rabbit hole trying to see if I could figure out the answer to this question about Yato’s age but unfortunately I’m mostly coming up empty-handed.

The answer to this question actually depends on two different pieces of information which--as far as I can remember--we’ve never actually been given for certain.

1) We would need to know when Yato was actually born.

The manga has kind of hinted at a total (not physical) age for Yato in the flashbacks which showed him as a young child during the Heian era (putting him somewhere in the vicinity of a little over 1000 years old) and Father not making masks before ~1100 years ago, but the problem is we still don’t know how many years might have passed between this scene (the youngest we’ve ever seen Yato):

And the next flashback scene, where Yato meets Nora:

If gods age normally when they are children, these two scenes might be only a handful of years apart. But if gods don’t age normally, then these two scenes could be decades or centuries apart, which leads to the other missing piece of information (under the read more to save people’s dashes):

2) We would need to know the aging process for gods who are just born/reincarnate.

Up to this point in the manga, we’ve only seen two gods reincarnate--Ebisu (who reincarnated too recently to really help answer this question) and Takemikazuchi. The implication of Takemikazuchi’s backstory is that his shinki forced him to reincarnate and then hid his reincarnation from all of Heaven. The only way they could have kept other gods from noticing that Takemikazuchi had reincarnated would have been by not allowing him to go out at all until he had grown enough to match his previous reincarnation in appearance. This seems to suggest that gods probably do age normally when they are children--hiding Takemikazuchi away for ~20 years seems a lot more likely than being able to hide him away for centuries, after all... (I also feel like I have very vague recollection of some scene in the manga where someone comments on Takemikazuchi not having been around for a “few years,” but it’s been so long since I reread I can’t recall if this is a real moment from the manga or just me misremembering.)

Overall, however, based on what we’ve seen in the manga, my guess would be that when they’re young, after just being born or being reincarnated, gods age pretty normally. This would suggest that, for the first few years at least, the physical and mental ages of reincarnated/newly born gods actually overlap; baby Ebisu acts like a little kid because he is, in fact, both mentally and physically a little kid.

That would mean that, for all intents and purposes, Yato’s physical and mental ages lined up when he was young and meeting Sakura, and he acted like a little kid because he really was just a little kid, god or not.

(Detour for a second though:

This line always struck me as interesting in that it might, just might, give us a more specific timeframe for Yato’s “birth”: although the constellations, of course, are visible in the sky every single year, this particular combination of concepts (kanoto-tori, yin metal rooster) is known much more commonly as one of the sixty years on the cyclical Chinese calendar, also used in Japan. Counting back on the calendar, 961 A.D. was a yin metal rooster year and would align just about right for what we know about the timeframe in which Yato later met Sakura (~970ish). Just referencing constellations doesn’t mean Adachitoka was pointing to a specific year, but it might have been another hint as to the timeframe of the flashbacks.

Okay, detour over.)

Anyway, without 100% confirmation on either of those pieces of information--when Yato was born and whether gods age at the same rate as humans after reincarnating--I don’t think it’s really possible to pin down Yato’s “real” age (physically or mentally) at the time he met Sakura. We mostly just have to estimate.

Personally, based on his size and behavior at the time, I’d put him somewhere between seven and maybe up to ten, but the way Adachitoka draws characters kind of makes it impossible to judge their ages by appearance; Yato is about the same size as Nora when he meets Sakura, implying that he and Nora were around the same physical “age” at that time; meanwhile, Nora is later portrayed as being roughly the same age as Yukine, suggesting she was maybe 12-13ish years old when she died. So, despite being drawn tiny, it’s possible Yato was meant to be anywhere from a little kiddo (6-7) to all the way up to Nora’s age by the time he met Sakura.

But all that said, I think what you were really asking about was more the mental state Yato would have been in when he met Sakura and how his young age would have impacted his ability to change his world views, right? The answer to that is... complicated and could be approached a lot of ways. Coming from a background of working with and educating social work students, there are several common psychological theories of child development that might apply here, for example.

I’d recommend checking out Erik Erikson’s psychosocial stages of development, though.

(Pulled from here.)

I don’t have time to explain the entire theory with the complexity it might deserve, but the basic idea is that, as children develop, they experience a series of crises or challenges that they must overcome. Successfully overcoming each challenge results in successful psychological and social development; failing to overcome a challenge in childhood will result in long-term negative impacts later in the child’s life. (There are plenty critiques of this theory too, so don’t take this as gospel or anything--just a theory worth thinking about!)

Given Father’s lack of interest in teaching Yato basic concepts of humanity, I would put Yato at approximately the “Initiative vs. Guilt” stage when he met Sakura. At this level of Erikson’s theory, children struggle with asserting themselves and developing a healthy sense of how their personal desires might conflict with the expectations and rules set out by others. In this stage, giving a child positive feedback for their actions teaches the child that those actions are “right,” while giving negative feedback teaching the child that their actions are wrong. In order to overcome this particular challenge, children need to begin taking initiative and aligning their actions with social standards; the child acts, and the parental figure reacts--through this process, children learn “I can do X thing but I cannot do Y thing.”

When you hear things like “Children are cruel,” most often what people are referring to is that it takes time for children to learn empathy and to experience guilt when they cause harm to others; children do not natively understand the repercussions of their actions. It’s only through a process of testing the boundaries, of receiving praise or punishment, that children define what is “right” versus “wrong,” and begin to feel bad when they do something deemed wrong.

And this is pretty much word-for-word what we see Sakura teaching Yato.

If they have healthy role models and caretakers during this phase, children develop successfully. Successful children in this phase get their first taste of personal responsibility; unsuccessful children are (supposedly) plagued for years afterward by a sense of guilt and shame when their actions produce disapproval from everyone around them.

Yato... doesn’t exactly make it through this development stage unscathed, because he receives conflicting definitions of right and wrong from his Father an Sakura:

Which ultimately results in, years later, the Yato we know and love who still does his Father’s bidding to kill humans even though it fills him with a horrific sense of guilt:

Through his time with Sakura, I think it could also be argued that Yato moves into the next stage of Erikson’s theory as well, getting into the “Industry versus Inferiority” crises.

Meeting Sakura brings out Yato’s true, deep down desire as a god: to help people. (I think it’s important to note that this isn’t something Sakura teaches him--it’s a quality Yato already possessed; it was explicitly Yato’s desire to please people that led to him murdering in his father’s name.)

Once he learns what makes people happy, Yato immediately pursues that with intense focus:

The primary goal of this phase of psychosocial development is to experience a sense of confidence in one’s actions. When children practice their skills, pursue areas where they are praised, and gain new skills and aptitudes through mentoring from healthy role models, they gain confidence in their ability to excel, to fit in with peers their age, and to create meaningful things. By encouraging Yato to pursue positive behaviors--playing peacefully with other children, appreciating natural beauty, and creating useful things like boots for the needy--Sakura moved Yato toward successfully completing this phase and developing a sense of confidence in his actions and his ability to achieve positive things in the world.

Of course, Father cannot have that (because confident children with a sense of self-worth are much more difficult to abuse), so he puts an immediate end to Sakura’s influence over Yato in the most insidious way possible: although he clearly manipulated the situation to achieve Sakura’s death, out loud, he blames Yato, implying that Sakura’s death was all Yato’s fault, the results of Yato taking unwanted action “industry” and yet failing--creating a sense of “inferiority” instead.

This, of course, haunts Yato all the way to the present, as he--again and again and again--blames himself for things outside his control or failing to live up to expectations that no one in his situation (still being manipulated) could possibly hope to get “right.”

Finally, you could say that Sakura’s presence is Yato’s life is ultimately what sows the seeds of the manga’s main plot up to this point, with Yato’s quest to create an entirely new identity for himself as a god of fortune instead of a god of calamity. Personally, I would say that Yato is currently still in this phase of development, still working out how to define himself and who he will ultimately become once he is finally free to decide on his own path in life. It was Sakura’s gentle influence--his desire to become the kind of god who could make her smile--that eventually sparked his conflict and finally led Yato to the brink of catastrophe. If he wishes to become the god Sakura told him he could be, he can no longer suffer his father to live.

So, long story longer, I think it can be argued that Yato meeting Sakura at such a young age is EXACTLY what made it possible for him to change, and exactly what has led to his crisis in identifying himself and redefining his sense of right and wrong.

Uhhhh... I hope that answers your question!

#noragami #noragami meta #noragami spoilers #noragami manga #psychosocial development #Yato #Sakura #Father (Noragami)#speculation

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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i stumbled upon ur writing looking for lady d x non-binary reader fics and ur work has just been a godsend i’m obsessed. it’s inspired me to start writing my own even though i’ve never written for fandoms before. i’ve never written for other actual characters before either so i was wondering if u could spare any tips for writing for lady d and her daughters? 🙏🏻

I can certainly try! I'll divide the tips into lil sections for each characters. Might be less tips, more character observations that help me figure out how to write them? Putting under read-more for length. Also! If you ever want someone to look over what you write before you post it, I offer my services! I can't guarantee how fast I can respond, but I've been editing/proof-reading/giving general feedback for my friends for years, with everything from fanfiction to college level essays.

Alcina:

Large and in charge, literally. Regardless of the situation, Lady D wants to stay in control, or at least look like she's in control. Okay, minor exception being anything involving Mother Miranda, since she's the one person Lady D has any real respect for. Otherwise, Alcina maintains a good grasp on any situation, looking for ways to put herself in control.

For example, she often uses her height as a means to establish dominance, even within RE8 canon. If you watch a video of the Four Lords meeting, Alcina stands up once she starts arguing with Heisenberg, towering over him in an attempt to intimidate. We also see the aforementioned exception in this scene, as Lady D sort of "shrinks" a little when Miranda responds.

As much as Lady D wants to be in control, she's not always actually capable of it. In the game, we see her struggle to contain her emotions, and often releases them in outbursts. Such as the infamous vanity throwing scene (god I love that so much). It can provide some nice contrast in scenes, having Lady D be so in control one moment, then as soon as she's behind closed doors she's letting it all out.

Uses the most old-fashioned language out of her whole family. It's kind of hard to describe how one goes about writing this way, but I recommend trying to find some journals that were written in the early 1900's and reading them. Or just some classic novels (not Moby Dick, tho, that one's a bit much, in my opinion). One thing I can say is occasionally swap contractions (can't, don't, I've, etc) for the full version of the word (cannot, do not, I have, etc). Something about that always makes dialogue feel older, though I can't really explain why. Whatever you do, just don't rely too much on using synonyms. Replacing common words with their cousins can make dialogue feel "fancier", but you often run the risk of unintended connotations (feelings, positive or negative, associated with a word) messing with how a text is interpreted.

Puts up a front/facade around most people, as part of her noble background and need for control, with words like "stoic" and "composed" coming to mind. Very rough with troublemakers, no mercy. But!!! So very incredibly soft with her family/loved ones. I've seen some people accuse her of "faking" her love for her daughters, but these people either played a different game than I did, or they can't read emotions as well as I can. Gentle touches when she's checking if her kids are okay, little glances and gentle nods for reassurance, pausing a chase just to help her daughters, etc.

Bela:

Wants to make her mother proud. Legally obligated to make her mother proud, because she's the eldest daughter. Not that I know how that feels, being the younger of two children. Regardless, Bela is the most well behaved of the daughters, even when her mother isn't around. However, she does resent this position to some degree, based on in game dialogue/dialogue files that are in the game but aren't used. Personally, I see her as someone who's willing to let certain things go in exchange for favors/blackmail ammo.

Cleans up after her sisters a fair bit, sometimes literally. Feels responsible for them, to the point where their mistakes are her mistakes, and she's forced to compensate on their behalf. Because of this she ends up complaining a lot, though almost only when her family isn't around.

Still very protective of her family, she simply does most of her protecting behind the scenes. Knows how to manipulate a situation, which she probably learned from her mother, and can be quite convincing when she wants to be. Less likely to use violence to solve a problem than anyone else in the family. Will she use violence if need be, or if someone fucks up enough? Yes, absolutely, but she'll focus more on efficiency than misery (unless someone really fucks up).

Generally speaking she's more eloquent than either of her sisters, though not by much unless she's trying to impress someone (usually her mother).

Cassandra:

Two words: Angry. Horny. To her, they might as well be one word. Horngry. Cassandra struggles with her emotions more than either of her sisters, being a pressure cooker ready to pop basically all the time. It's not hard to set her off, but it can take ages for her to cool back down. Let's her frustration (of any variety) build up until she can bludgeon someone to death with it. Harshest on the servants, and spends the most time toying with others in the dungeon.

Like Bela, Cassandra wants to make her mother proud, but it's less of an obligation and more of a "I'm the middle child and feel like I don't get enough attention" type deal. Is more than willing to stoop to "tattle telling" activities in order to get the attention she craves. Usually sticks to obediently following her mother's orders or hunting down enemies, though.

Bit of an artsy type, and the most likely to take trophies from her victims. Gross ones, usually. Okay, well, that's debatable, but I'm talking about general consensus rather than my specific tastes. Personally, I don't care if she's got some weird blood paintings. Hell, I've got extra blood, and also am clumsy and bleed a lot anyway, she can have mine!

Hides her non-anger emotions as best as she can. Hates talking about her feelings (even if it helps), to the point where it's usually impossible to tell how she's feeling deep down. Remember, anger is a secondary emotion! No one is ever just angry, there's always something else hiding underneath, such as: Sadness, disappointment, loneliness, jealousy, etc. Keep this in mind when you're writing her. Make sure you pinpoint the center of her anger, and hint at it, letting her actions show her true goal.

Swears the most, easily. Tends to speak in shorter sentences than her sisters, and prefers being blunt to being eloquent/flowery.

Daniela:

Love, love, love, love, love, ahhhh deep breath... love. Loves love, or at least what she processes as love. Would do anything for romance. Except she also craves "natural" romance, creating a sort of paradox that adds to her delusions, as she engages in the pursuit of unintentional romance (not to be confused with "The Pursuit of Unintentional Humor", a song that I very, very much enjoy). Wants to be loved for who she is at the same time that she attempts to mold herself into a more lovable shape. Struggles with intimacy, wanting to feel vulnerable without actually being so.

On some level she understands that draining people of their blood, and then drinking said blood, is not equatable to a healthy relationship. But seeing as this is the most common form of supposed "intimacy" that she experiences, she refuses to acknowledge the true nature of what she does. Instead she clings to the idea of "forever bonding" with her partners, pretending that each one is still with her, even when she no longer remembers their names.

Hates being rejected, no matter how gently. "Ugly" cries, but only if she's alone, often turning her pain into anger, just like Cassandra. However, her outbursts don't seem to last as long. In reality, her breakdowns simply occupy the inside of her existence, rather than the outside. Sure, she's giggling and causing chaos, like usual, but on the inside she's breaking a record for most depressing internal monologue.

Reads a ton, but not always "quality" books. Goes through a dozen books or more a week, often rereading her favorites several times, mainly within the romance genre (obvs). This affects her speech a fair amount, making her both cheesy and occasionally smooth as hell.

#j says things #character study #don't wanna tag as tips cuz this is so specific to resident #resident evil

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sunnywritesstuff34 · 3 years

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Working

hello! It is time for more Boruto AU, with Sasuke this time! @ghostjellyfishheart was excited for this, so enjoy lmao. I apologize in advance for this. Just. Disregard the choppy transitions. Tune in next whenever for Boruto being incredibly confused by Sasuke and trying to figure out how to adjust to living in his house. It’s incredibly awkward. Can’t wait.

(TW and CW for: unconsciousness, coma, critical injuries, tired Sasuke Uchiha, angry Boruto, probably ooc Kakashi and like six other ooc people, death, parental death, possible parental death, cursing, the Uchiha Massacre, one night stands, Sasuke is trying very hard okay he’s doing his best, both of them are good dads because I wanted them to be okay?)

Sasuke Uchiha was angry. No, scratch that, he wasn't angry, he was pissed. He was furious. He was beyond angry, he had reached the peak of anger and transcended to another plane, and that was something he didn't even think possible. For starters, it's not like his day was going well to begin with. Kakashi had stuck him with way too much to do, endless goddamn paper work. Apparently sharingan was mostly for battle, because it really didn't do shit when it came to focusing. And it's not like his paperwork wasn't important, it was. He had to review a series of reports from high profile shinobi on their teams and the work of their teammates, so and so and so and so, it was always something.

In all honesty, he had signed up for this. Well, okay, he didn't sign up for it, but he agreed to it. After Naruto’s disappearance Sasuke was just about ready to throw himself into as many dangerous situations as far from Konoha as possible, but no. He didn't know whose idea it was, maybe Tsunade’s, maybe Sakura’s, maybe Kakashi came up with it all on his own, whatever. Now he was working as Kakashi’s right hand man (and shadow in a lot of ways) and, in his own word’s, the Hokage’s “Don't Be Stupid And Callous And Hurt People For The Greater Good Because It Really Didn't Go Well Last Time” reminder. He really was doing good work, he caught multiple oversights and made sure to hold Kakashi to his word about the decline of execution, especially for missing-nin. He nearly punched Ibiki in the nose about sixteen times for being ridiculous, but what the hell did he expect? Changing things on a fundamental level and rebuilding at the same time were hard, it was pretty tempting to fall back on old methods. It was largely Sasuke’s job to prevent that from happening, and he was really good at doing it without murdering anyone, surprisingly (though he came close a couple of times.) The destruction of the Foundation was extensive and incredibly difficult, and it was surprising to pretty much everybody except for Sasuke just how deeply corrupted the village was. They were also changing up Anbu, though that was still an ongoing process. Sai helped quite a bit in the destruction of the Foundation, and helped develop some sort of rehabilitation for people indoctrinated into it like him. He was very passionate about it, something that Sasuke totally understood. It was personal.

All things considered, there were two reasons that Sasuke didn't cut and run as soon as Naruto wasn't around to keep him anchored any more. The opportunity for bettering Konoha and the shinobi world as a whole and… well… Sarada. Sasuke and Sakura had Sarada around the same time that Naruto had Boruto with Hinata (say that ten times fast) albeit in a less… graceful manner. Naruto and Hinata had a child after getting married due to mutual affection, and Sasuke and Sakura had a child because of… well, a one night stand.

In hindsight, though it hadn't worked out with Sakura, he was grateful to have Sarada. She was a sort of anchor that kept him from running yet again, especially seeing as Sakura was busy running the hospital/teaching the next generation of medical nin/finding new techniques for medical advancement and health/going on a mission every once in a while. She was also, you know, his daugther, and he loved her. Sakura’s parents had a fit when they found out, and they had an even bigger fit when they realized that the two of them weren't getting married any time soon. If Sakura had decided that a marriage was best, Sasuke likely would have gone along with that. What else was he supposed to do? It wouldn't be fair to her, especially in the eyes of traditional families and clans. Sakura, of course, was having none of that, and Sasuke was incredibly relieved. Sasuke had raised his daughter for the most part, and he loved her more than anything, but it was clear to anyone with eyes that Sasuke Uchiha wasn't necessarily the image of “perfect father.” At first, he thought of Sarada as an ambiguously important responsibility, as cold as that sounded. But then she was born, and she had legs and arms and a brain and feelings, so of course he became attached. Actually, she was sixteen at that point, and she had become an excellent kunoichi. In fact, she was taking the jounin exams soon, which Ashina might be too if Naruto had stayed. Speaking of Naruto…

Sasuke had no idea why he was surprised. It seemed that no matter where Naruto was or how many years it had been since they'd seen each other, he would always, always be a pain in the ass. That would never change. Of course Naruto would show up with his children in the Forest of Death. Of course he would do it while Sasuke was swamped with work and trying to help his daughter prepare for the exams. Of course, of course, of course. Not that he was complaining (he was), at least not in the long run. It was better that Naruto come back eventually, but twelve entire years? That was a long time. A very long time, with no explanation. Just to show how thoroughly Sasuke was swamped, he heard the news in the middle of an incredibly important meeting with the daimyo and Kakashi. That didn't stop him from rushing to the hospital anyway, but it was inconvenient. Whatever, Kakashi (the damn slacker) would probably survive without him. Ino arrived distressed and covered in blood, only to deliver the message of a lifetime. Kakashi pretended not to care, especially since he was in the middle of a meeting and Naruto was technically a missing-nin. But he did care, obviously, he was just very good at compartmentalizing. Sasuke was too, but Naruto and Sarada seemed to be the only exceptions to this rule. So, he took off without explanation and rushed like hell to the hospital, because Ino said that Naruto had been in critical condition. The idiot always managed to get hurt somehow, but if he died before Sasuke got to chew him out for vanishing, he would resurrect the bastard so he could pound him into the dirt. Or hug him and never let go. It was a toss up, either one. Sasuke’s chakra was flashing dangerously, and it made everyone around him nervous, but at this point he could care less. The Uchiha opened the doors to the hospital and rushed to the front desk, but he was intercepted by an exhausted looking Ino.

“Where is he?” Sasuke blurted, and she glared at him momentarily.

“I'll tell you where, but it's not that simple Sasuke, you can't just rush in there-”

“Tell me where he is,” Sasuke growled.

“Sasuke-”

“Ino why can't you just-”

“Sasuke Uchiha!” she shouted in a way that sounded suspiciously like the few memories he had of his mother. He blinked. “Would you listen to someone for once in your entire goddamn life? God, you're just as frustrating as Sakura said you were. Naruto is stable for now, but he’s in comatose. Hopefully he’ll survive. But his kids are sitting in the room with him, and if you storm in there all furious, you'll scare the shit out of them. If you have to go in there, do it slowly and calmly. And Shikamaru says they go by Boruto and Himawari, not Ashina and Natsu. They must have changed their names at some point. Either way, you need to calm down.” Sasuke paused, because (damn her) Ino was right. He had to calm down. He was pretty threatening on his own, but to these kids, who were already worried about their father? He collected himself briefly as Ino sighed. “He’s asleep in room 306. Please be careful.”

“Thanks, Ino,” he managed before practically launching himself past her. Just before he turned down the hall, he paused. “And Ino,” he called over his shoulder. “If Neji comes by… tell him to go to hell.” With that he was off. The room wasn't hard to find, and he threw the door open. It was a private room, no other beds except the one where Naruto lay. He sucked in a breath when he saw him, because it had been so long and frankly the man looked terrible. His breathing was shallow and he was way too pale, but he was alive. God, he was alive, at least he was alive. Sasuke could hardly believe it. Naruto was alive, and he was here. He was so caught up in his own head that he didn't notice the two children sitting by the door until he turned around to face them. He froze in place as an awkward silence settled, and the first thing he could think was oh my god, he looks just like him. Ashina- no, Boruto, looked just like Naruto used to, he was nearly identical except for Boruto’s eyes being a slightly lighter shade of blue. There was a girl sitting next to him that looked alarmingly like Hinata, and she was watching him with more curiosity than defensive aggression like her brother.

“And who the hell are you?” Boruto demanded. Sasuke blinked.

“I um. I am an old friend of Naruto’s. I- I had to see him. My name’s Sasuke Uchiha.”

“Boruto- Boruto Namikaze,” the kid explained begrudgingly. Sasuke sat down in one of the chairs against the wall, a few away from Boruto and Himawari so that Boruto could watch him from a safe distance. He’d picked up a thing or two about skittish children in his time, and he figured the best course of action was to remain passive until Boruto let down his guard. Like an unruly cat that hisses whenever you get too close to it.

“What… what happened?” Sasuke asked, trying to start a conversation in a totally subtle way. Boruto winced and hesitated, almost looking… guilty.

“We got ambushed. That's all. He tried to keep us safe and it didn't… It's complicated.”

“Ah,” Sasuke muttered. “Right. Naruto is my friend, I've known him since we were kids. He’s always one for reckless endeavors.”

“Sometimes,” Boruto conceded. “I guess. He’ll… he’ll be okay. He has to be.”

“He will,” Sasuke assured him before he could stop himself. “He’s strong. Sakura Haruno is one of our top medical nin, she's not here right now, but she should be back from her mission soon, and she especially will be when she knows that Naruto is here. He's very important to us.” Boruto glanced over at him, tearing his eyes from his father.

“How did you know him?” he asked tentatively. Sasuke smiled without realizing it.

“He's my best friend. We went to the academy together, we fought in the Fourth Shinobi War. He was always there. He’s important to all of us, before he… before he left.” Boruto looked away nervously.

“Right,” he muttered. “Of course, that makes… that makes so much sense. I mean, I always wondered how he learned ninjutsu, I guess- I guess it makes sense for him to be from a Hidden Village. I just never…” Sasuke stared at him for a moment.

“He never told you?” Boruto shook his head and traded a glance with Himawari.

“No. He never talked about anything from before we were born. I never asked because it just… made him sad, I guess. I didn't like making him think about it.” Sasuke nodded numbly. Did he regret it, he wondered silently. Did he regret leaving? Did he ever think about coming back? The door opened just then and Boruto tensed again, whipping his head to the door. Kakashi stood in the doorway with Sai behind him.

“Hello. It seems Sasuke made it here first.” Boruto eyed him warily, moving closer to his sister. Kakashi took one look at the bed and then looked away, trying to not think about it for the time being. He turned his attention to Boruto instead.

“Well Boruto Namikaze, it looks like we have a lot to talk about. But it's been a long day for you two, and I think we’d best keep the hard conversations for tomorrow, hm?” Boruto must have read that as a threat because he bristled at the words, and Sasuke silently wondered how, despite years and years and years of experience, Kakashi never got any better at learning how to speak to children. Sai watched pensively, like an owl, tilting his head. Sasuke could understand Boruto’s nerves, especially considering the company he was in. Sasuke silently cursed Sakura for leaving at the worst time possible, but he knew it wasn't her fault.

“You should try and get some sleep tonight, we’ll probably have more information on Naruto’s condition in the morning. Don't worry, Sasuke’s house is comfortable.” Sasuke shot to his feet.

“What?” he demanded. Kakashi looked at him lazily.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I think it'd be best for the two of them to stay with you for the time being. You have a child of your own, and lord knows I wouldn't trust anybody else to do it. Sorry Sasuke, I promise i'll pay you overtime. I can have somebody else handle your paperwork for a few weeks.” Sasuke blinked as the children looked between the man and his teacher. Finally, the Uchiha gritted his teeth.

“Of course, Hokage-sama,” he growled. “It would be an honor.” Kakashi nodded.

“See? It's not that complicated. I have business to attend to, I'll have a conversation with you tomorrow, Sasuke.” With that he was gone, and Sasuke found himself alone with two children. Two. he had his hands full with one, and now he would have to take care of three. And they were Naruto’s children, lord only knows what they would get up to.

“Um,” Sasuke started. “I… I suppose… we should go… home.” Boruto hesitated before standing, tossing one glance over his shoulder at his father before walking out the door. Please wake up soon, Naruto Sasuke thought silently. But there were a few things Sasuke didn't realize at the time, and wouldn't for weeks. Naruto wouldn't be waking up, at least, not at first.

Kyuubi would.

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hb-writes · 3 years

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How would Tommy and Clara describe each other? Would/does Tommy openly say to Clara that he loves her? It’s obvious he does love his family but he seems to care for her so much more x

Hi, there! This one took a bit of extra thought on my part, hence the slight delay (and the extreme response length)!

I think both of these questions would be answered differently at different points in their lives if that makes sense?

In regards to how they’d describe/ view each other:

Pre-war, Clara and Tommy are so connected and so close. He’s her closest friend, brother, and parental figure all rolled in one and can literally do no wrong in her eyes. And it essentially works the same in the reciprocal way. Tommy loves her like she’s his own kid (and she essentially is) and he thinks she very clever and sweet (and can do no wrong). Beyond that, I think she reminds him of himself in some ways (minus the mischief) and he sees quite a bit of potential in her. They honestly kind of place one another up on pedestals in the early days.

Post-war is a different situation as Clara comes to realize that her brother is a human and not a god. He has faults just like the rest of them, so she’s coming to integrate all these new ideas about him and who he is and it’s not this same rosy view she’s always had of her beloved Tommy. She’s a bit afraid of this “change” in him (though it’s not a change in him, just a change in her view of him) and she’s quite unsure of what it all means. She’ll always struggle a bit in dealing with that dual understanding of him. She loves him and he’s one of the most important people in her life, but Tommy is also not a great person and does a lot of shit things Clara doesn’t agree with.

The same could be said of how Tommy views Clara post-war. He’s scared of her now (in a way) too and all of the changes that are happening. They were almost always aligned when he was younger, so her being against him is new and off-putting. Tommy also has to accept that Clara isn’t perfect and doesn’t think he’s perfect anymore either. A relationship that has always been so easy for them has now become a bit more work as they both work to accept the good and bad parts of them both.

In regards to saying “I love you”:

I also imagine Tommy would have no trouble telling her he loves her pre-war. Clara has always been open with that type of affection towards her family and I imagine the smiling, laughing, dancing pre-war Tommy would have no problem telling his girl that he loves her (unprompted or not). I imagine all that early expression of sentiment/ strong attachment early on is why Clara is still relatively confident in their bond post war, even when he’s a bit more distant and even when they’ve literally been fighting for months on end.

As for post-war Tommy, I imagine he’s much less likely to say it. He loves her, loves the whole lot of Shelby’s, but I can’t imagine him saying it unprompted. Clara is able to get the words out of him from time to time, mostly when he’s reminded that she’s still a child or when she prompts some sort of nostalgia in him and almost exclusively when it’s just the two of them. It happens in Chapter 18. I’m not certain if I’ve written it in any of the one shots, but I imagine it happens from time to time.

I do feel like Tommy shows most of his love through physical touch or acts of service though, which Clara understands in a way. She feels loved and cared for whether he actually says it or not (likely because she also leans into physical touch as an expression of love/ affection).

In regards to level of care compared to the other Shelbys:

As for caring for her much more...They’re just closer and he does see her (and Finn) as more of his children/ responsibility as compared to what he feels towards Ada, John, and Arthur. While he loves his family the same, I think he feels a greater responsibility towards her.

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a-libra-writes · 4 years

Text

SFW Alphabet - Tyrion Lannister

bro ive done nothing but be tired, binge peaky blinders and write whatdayisit

this was a request!! if you havent read the books by now plz consider it bc this man is a treasure

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Tyrion loves giving you all sorts of affection, letting you and others know how much he adores you. When you’re sitting side by side he’ll touch your hand and often kiss it, glad when you lean in for a proper kiss. In the privacy of your chambers, he’s always comforted when you two snuggle up and chat, read a book or just silently enjoy each other’s company. It’s the sort of peace he never thought he’d enjoy.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Once someone earns his trust and better, admiration, Tyrion proves himself to be a loyal and capable friend. He appreciates someone with wit and empathy, and once Tyrion is close enough with someone to trust them with his thoughts, he’ll find himself leaning on that friendship for his sanity many times over. He’ll get more sentimental about it the longer it goes on, seeing as he often feels alone in his thoughts.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Tyrion adores your hugs and closeness, especially when you initiate it. Any sort of cuddling is good - wrapped up in your arms, leaning against you, you resting on him, or both of you sitting up and relaxing against a small mountain of pillows.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He always secretly thought of a family, one of his own that accepted him, but it seemed so far away. Now that your relationship with him is a reality, he can’t believe how lucky he is and thanks whatever gods were responsible for allowing this happiness. He’d absolutely want a family with you, in time, and would protect you fiercely.

Considering cooking and cleaning has always been done for him, Tyrion isn’t experienced in either. Truthfully, he’s a bit messy, especially at his desk area, which has always been a small disaster zone. Sometimes you tidy up, only to come back the next evening and notice there’s a new stack of books and a slew of papers everywhere.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He would be avoidant of it, not wanting to accept the fact the relationship was coming to an end. Eventually Tyrion knew he’d have to do it, and he’d speak to you privately, making sure you both had dinner and wine first. He’d break it to you gently and matter of factly, explaining how he came to this conclusion - if he figured you’d be happier this way, or you had just become someone he couldn’t understand anymore, he feel he would have no choice.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Even if he likes to play at being a free-wheeling man, he’s always wanted to have a comfortable, happy domestic life. Tyrion figured that was a pipe dream for years. While he may have fallen for you, unless there was some official arrangement, he’d have reservations asking for marriage.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Tyrion has always been gentle and considerate with you, as you’re incredibly important to him. Even when he feels you may not be approaching something the right way, he’d discuss it with you logically or calmly explain his side of things. Physically he doesn’t treat you like you're fragile, nor would he ever imagine physically harming you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He always appreciates your hugs and holds you tight whenever you want one. If you want to be held, he’ll do so, stroking your back and asking what’s on your mind. Honestly, Tyrion appreciates any sort of physical affection.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He thinks it first before considering saying it, especially since he doesn’t want to scare you away. Tyrion would consider your actions and words carefully, wanting to be sure that you felt it as well. He’d prefer it if you said it first, but after a while he can’t help himself and it just slips out in a fumbling mess. He’d have to sigh, start over and give you a proper heartfelt confession.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Tyrion’s jealousy often manifests in sullenness and over-analyzing whoever is making eyes at you, or worse, thinking they can flirt without him being aware. If he’s truly bothered, he’ll mosey his way over to you and give them an insult hidden in a joke, hoping you’ll laugh at it. He absolutely trusts you, it’s other men that make him nervous. He’s seen and known the rest of them, so.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He has all sorts of kisses ready for you. Sweet ones for waking up in the morning, more passionate ones for the evening, quick ones during the day so you know he appreciates you always. Since your hand is the easiest to reach, especially when you’re both in public, he often kisses your fingers. When you’re sitting or lounging together, he’ll prefer your neck and lips. Note that if you’re sensitive or ticklish anywhere, he will find it and use it against you with a devilish grin.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Tyrion’s comfort level with children depends on their age. He’s always worried he’ll drop a baby or they’ll somehow be fearful of him, so he tends to avoid the much younger ones - unless it was his own, of course. Children tend to be unruly and speak whatever pops into their head, uncouth or not, so he gets along best with older ones. He’s a doting uncle to his good niece and nephew, after all, and he’s admittedly weak to more shy, out-of-place kids. As a father, he’d be just as kind-hearted, but he’d love to have a witty child to teach and have clever little talks with. Teenagers are too sullen for his taste, but he’s patient with them and seems to know just how to speak with them.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

If he’s hungover or turning in after a late night - it’s usually both of those things - he’ll have found his way mostly under the covers, usually resting on your chest or your shoulder. He’ll grumble when you move away to get ready, but he’d fall asleep again quickly, especially after feeling your calming touch. He’s more of a late morning to early afternoon riser, but if there’s important business, he’ll pull himself up with even more grumbling and complaints.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Tyrion is naturally a night owl, and once the sun is down, he suddenly feels far more awake. He’ll spend his evenings with a cup of wine, his desk full of papers and books and preferably you sitting with him in the room. Even if you two are just enjoying the silence in your own ways, it’s immensely reassuring to have your presence with him. If work is truly taxing him, he’d ask for your opinion on several decisions, wanting to know if he was doing the right thing. Eventually you’d have to set his quill down and stubbornly keep asking him to come to bed. Even when you’re curled up under the covers, he might still keep talking about whatever treaty he was working on - in that case, shutting him up with a kiss deep always works.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

As much as Tyrion presents himself as elusive and full of secrets to strangers and enemies, he’s desperate to connect with someone emotionally. He tried to be his charismatic and standoffish self with you, evading all sorts of questions, but as your friendship - and his feelings - deepened, it was too difficult to keep up the charade. Once Tyrion felt safe with you, once he trusted you, he was a goner. He couldn’t help but tell you things that troubled him, especially memories from the past. It wouldn’t spill out at once, but you’d start to tell when he was in a morose mood and needed to talk.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

You know that for all the patience he has to present in court, Tyrion hates the injustice he often has to watch or play a hand in. His family especially tries on him, and you’re there to support him as best as you can. When it comes to you, Tyrion struggles to actually get upset. It’s not that you do anything to anger him regularly; he just thinks the absolute world of you, and he downplays any negative traits you might have. If he were truly upset about something, he may not even tell you about it. He’d just be exasperated for a day then move on.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Tyrion knows all sorts of your favorite things, like perfume, preferred flowers, what you like to eat and drink, the kind of jewelry you wear depending on the occasion, dress color and materials … all things he’s bought to make you happy both when you were courting and married. He’s excellent at picking out material gifts, even if it’s “simpler” things like books and embroidery thread, even instruments. Nothing is too good for you.

In general Tyrion has a good memory, so he’d also know things you’ve told him in confidence. They were important enough to you to tell him, so naturally he’d remember. He may even remember things you don’t recall talking about. After a while you stopped being so surprised when Tyrion would bring up a detail or person you mentioned months or years ago.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Even to this day, he can’t get the sweet memory of your confession out of his head. Even when it was happening, he was so sure he was dreaming, or it was some terrible misunderstanding. He remembers a lot about that day, because he’s replayed it in his head so much. The way your eyes sparkled and your cheeks blushed, how the sun made your hair glow and the way your dress gently moved in the breeze. When he’s having an especially dark day, recalling such a fond memory does wonders for his soul.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Tyrion takes absolutely no chances with you. He’d want to replace your guards with men loyal to him. Even guards from your House would be vetted and personally spoken to. He’d want no less than four with you, which you felt was a little excessive, but he’d lower it to two at your request … with about five you weren’t aware of, hiding behind shadows and corners. This was especially true in King’s Landing. Tyrion wouldn’t back down on providing you numerous loyal and strong men; he wasn’t about to let his wife waltz around vipers without adequate protection.

He wouldn’t expect the same protection from you, since he had his own men, but he didn’t account for the way you protected him with words. You’d stand up for his honor and defend him against all manner of people, against charges great and small. Tyrion couldn’t believe someone would go such lengths to protect him, and it made him feel even more blessed to have you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He takes special note of any important dates and anniversaries, setting aside time for a date and having it nicely planned out. If business couldn’t wait, he’d make sure there was some way to make it up to you, guaranteed. Tyrion wants you to feel appreciated and loved always, and he’d gladly tell all of King’s Landing to fuck off for your sake … if only that didn’t end in terrible consequences.

As stated before, he’s excellent with gifts and that extends to his everyday actions. He never fails to give you hello and goodbye kisses, hold your hand, compliment a new style you try, and so forth. He isn’t flattering or settled into a boring routine, it’s all genuine.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

You were already aware of the rumors surrounding Tyrion’s machinations, but now you were seeing the cogs turn in real time. More often than not, Tyrion didn’t tell you of his plans. He didn’t want you involved, and you noticed he’d assume the worst of situations: The amount of times he worried that something would end in your gory death was too much. You knew that his fears weren’t totally unfounded, but you still wished he would let you in on some of the schemes so you could have a better idea of what was happening, or more importantly, so you could help.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

As much as he plays aloof about his condition, he isn’t blind or an idiot. He dresses in fine clothes and jewelry and keeps himself well-groomed to maintain that perfect, presentable Lannister facade, as much as his father and sister feel like he’s just a joke in silk. You often spot him fussing with doublets or looking irritably at his scar in a mirror, and his soothes him greatly when you help smooth out his hair and clothes. He’d have trouble accepting any genuine compliments you gave him, so sometimes just being caring was enough.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

As if Tysha wasn’t bad enough, Tyrion would truly suffer if something happened to you. He may not even recover completely, going into a deep, angry and seemingly endless depression. He’s very aware this will happen if you die from sickness or the gods forbid, from one of his enemies, so it’s just another reason he’s so protective. Even when you two have to be apart because of travel, he’ll count on your letters and the ones he sends to you to keep him going. Even if it would be dangerous to you, he’d selfishly wish you were by his side.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Tyrion likes it when you two wear something that’s maybe not very fancy, but it has some special meaning to you. Examples would be the first dress he ever bought you, with embroidery of your House in your favorite color, or a pretty and simple jade ring from Yi Ti just because you liked reading about it so much. He’d have a little sculpture on his desk from some joke between you two, or even a little charm you wove for fun, very sentimental things like that. Things he could look at or touch and remember the smiles you had over it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He’s had enough baseless cruelty and pettiness from his family that he just can’t tolerate it in other people. Those using their status to abuse people below them are also just as despicable, and he has little patience for a partner who would rest on their family’s status and wealth and do little to improve themselves. Lack of wit and cruelty are probably the biggest turn-offs, though.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Even if he falls asleep peacefully, resting against you, somehow he ends up under the covers or halfway across the bed or in a position that looks very uncomfortable to you - and if his groaning and stretching when he wakes up is anything to go by, it probably is. You’re certain Tyrion can’t sleep still to save his life. It also humors you how he struggles to sleep on anything but a very fine bed and silk sheets, but you don’t tease him about that … much.

#tyrion lannister #tyrion lannister x reader #game of thrones x reader #sfw alphabet #game of thrones #i hope peaky blinders stays fantastic im only on s3

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nerdygaymormon · 3 years

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Thank you for this blog, it has helped me so much :) I was wondering if you have any advice on talking to God/receiving revelation when you have anxiety and don't really ever feel calm or peaceful? Especially when you're praying for a testimony. Do you also have advice for getting a testimony in general? I don't really have a testimony of anything, so I've been trying to figure out whether I believe that God and Jesus are real, because that seems like the best place to start. 1/2

I kind of just hope that they are there, but I don't really believe in them. I'm not sure what the best way to figure it out would be. It's really hard for me to read the scriptures, and I know that's how we're 'supposed' to get a testimony. Do you know of other ways I can gain a testimony or ways to make it easier to read the scriptures? Thank you so much!

————————————————��———

Hmmm, anxiety is one of those things that can overwhelm us. I have social anxiety disorder and when the anxiety kicks in, it’s game over about trying to feel anything else.

When I’m anxious, I put on some music, I sit in my car, I do breathing exercises, I distract myself maybe by playing a video game, I go for a drive. I do a bunch of things to try to calm the anxiety down. But those may not be the same sorts of things that work for you. If you know some triggers of your anxiety, you can avoid those. For me, one of those would be not giving myself enough time to do something.

I’m a musician and music really speaks to me, it helps me zone out the outside world, it affects my breathing and pulse rate, it can soothe me.

Think about things that you’re good at, perhaps something about those can help you feel more calm. This could be knitting, swimming laps, cleaning (I’ve heard several people mention this), watering plants, going for a walk, baking.

I know some people live with a level of anxiety that they don’t ever truly feel calm and restful. But they still can experience periods of lower levels of anxiety, that may be good enough.

—————————

We hear people share their testimony and it’s almost always “I know this” and “I know that.” And sometimes I wish I knew, maybe I don’t have that same gift of belief to know the way that they do.

Whatever level of faith you have is fine. We all are at different spots. I hope it’s true I think it’s true I believe it’s true I know it’s true

I have a few thoughts I hope will be helpful.

1) A testimony begins with a hope or a desire. It's fine to not know if there is a God, but to think there might be, or hope there is.

Does God exist, I don’t know for sure. But when I prayed and asked if God loves me as I am (gay), I felt warm & had goosebumps and had the thought “you are not broken,” and that is good enough for me to say perhaps God exists. I got an answer, and whether it’s from God or it was just my own mind & body, I can’t be 100% positive, but that’s what faith is, taking that leap to say God might exist.

2) Are there principles or teachings that resonate with you? For example, my heart reacts to the idea that if there is a heaven it would be a place where I can be with the people I love.

My testimony is about faith in individual principles and that God loves all people regardless of who they are.

3) Some principles we can have a testimony of in theory, like I can think Tithing makes sense, I support things that tithing pays for such as youth activities, a building to meet in, and so on. Same with modesty, it is a good concept. If I live & present myself in a certain way, does that change the way I carry myself and how the world perceives me? Is it a better representation of my values?

Doing provides a stronger testimony than thinking.

4) You can pray and ask God a question.

I find the question I ask makes a difference. For example, God wants to answer the question “Does God love me?” “Is it okay I'm queer?” God is silent when I ask if He will change me.

Personally, I find I don’t get much response to prayers phrased like “what do I do about...,” “which choice should I make.” Instead I have to come with a specific plan and let the feeling of the spirit confirm the decision. For example, “I want to DM them and say such-and-such, should I do this?” “I got accepted to 2 colleges, I think this one makes more sense based on the cost and location. Is this a good choice for me?”

Typically the answer comes by a feeling, only rarely do I get words or thoughts. Do I feel content, settled, peaceful, happy, distracted, troubled, a sinking feeling?

5) Am I praying to God sincerely? Sometimes saying, “Hey God, WTF?!!” is more honest than a lot of prayers I’ve said. Actually communicate with God instead of just saying words.

Prayers are for our benefit, God already knows what is going on with us. If all the formal language gets in the way, then change how you speak to God to be less formal.

Also, pray when you want to pray, it doesn’t have to be on a schedule. There are times I pray more and times I pray less.

6) You mentioned that reading scriptures can be difficult. You can try listening to audio versions of the scriptures. You can use the illustrated Book of Mormon and illustrated Old & New Testaments which are meant for children, but still contain the message of the scriptures. I find the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) edition of the Bible easier to understand and it is available to read online.

7) For me, it’s easier to have a testimony of basic gospel principles. Things like to love one another & to love ourselves (the 2nd great commandment). Help the poor, the disabled, the oppressed, the imprisoned (this is what Jesus said He came to do in Luke 4:17-21, these are things I can get behind even if I’m not religious).

—————————

I feel like I gave a 20-part answer to your questions. I hope some of what I wrote feels like useful advice. I’m wishing you all the best, you seem very sincere in wanting to believe and I hope you find some answers that help you in that quest.

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thecleverdame · 4 years

Text

Gods of Twilight - 17

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Master List (posting schedule is there as well)

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking. This chapter does contain some non-con elements.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

*This story is complete. All 27 chapters are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

Your bedchambers have once again become a prison. Only this time you're not only trapped in the room, but relegated to the bed itself. Martha, the midwife, insists that you must be still and allow ample time for your body to heal. So you lie there, alone and broken-hearted as the days turn into weeks.

Sam does his best to be a comfort, but the truth is he can hardly stand the sight of you. He’s so ashamed of what he’s done, overcome with guilt for hurting you so viciously that every interaction is forced.

During the day he eats his meals with you, but at night he leaves and doesn’t return. This harkens back to the beginning of your marriage when you were sure he was unfaithful.

At least now you know it’s only a matter of time. Your experiment proved disastrous. His rut was only satisfied by nearly taking your life. And there’s no way he’ll try again.

No, Ruby will have your husband. She’ll see him through his ruts and give him the children that you are unable to provide. She’ll be his wife in the shadows and you’ll be the somber, public face of a wife and queen who people whisper about behind your back.

You wonder if you’re capable of raising and loving a child that your husband has created with another woman. If it was an orphan, unrelated to either of you by blood, you’re sure of your affections. You could love almost any baby as your own. But the idea of Ruby birthing a child, a baby meant to yours...it’s unbearable.

The very thought brings you to tears.

The pain in your neck is almost nonexistent. You still haven’t looked at it, afraid of what you’ll find. The sting of the stitches and the itch of the skin healing has passed but the bandage remains. Martha has left it up to you when you take it off for good.

The ache from your sex and your womb is constant. It’s not the intense pain from the first week, but it’s still a dull ache that smarts when you move too quickly. Everything below your belly feels tight and stiff. You’ve been assured there will be no lasting damage. Martha has explained to you time and time again that it’s no more than what some women go through during childbirth. That a woman’s body knows how to heal.

So you lay still and wait for the rest of what your life will bring.

“You should have a look,” Martha insists yet again, thrusting a hand mirror toward you. When you don’t take it, she places it on your lap.

“I’m not ready.” You wring your hands together, feeling anxious pressure bubble up into your chest.

“The mind always imagines something worse than reality. The doctor did a fine job, best he could under the circumstances.” She pats your hand, gesturing toward the bandage on your neck. “Here, let me take it off.”

She removes the cloth, strip after strip and you do your best to remain collected. Once it’s off she sits back, waiting for you to gather the courage to have a look. Taking a breath, you clutch the mirror in shaking hands and raise it up.

You gasp when you see it for the first time, but interest ends up trumping the horror you’ve built up in your own mind. There are three distinct bite marks, three wounds with little fishbone stitches bordering each of them. A lot of the skin is still angry red, but some of the edges are a softer pink. His teeth marks are prominent and easily discernible. There’s no denying this is a human bite.

“What will people think of this?” You wonder out loud, touching the wound gently.

“You’re certainly not the first woman in Lebanon to have a man’s mark on her.” She counters, taking the mirror from you. “I don’t pretend to understand what it means, and it’s not my business. But folks here are used to seeing marks like that.”

You hadn’t thought of that. This place is filled with many claimed Omegas, for all anyone knows you’re just another part of the culture, an old-time tradition that outsiders hear about and shake their heads. You’d heard of the women and their marks long before you came here, the stories always seem far fetched to you, but it makes sense now.

“I brought bandages.” Martha holds up a package of cloth wood pulp bandages, the same kind soldiers use on their battle wounds to stop a lot of blood.

Only these are used for your monthly bleeding.

“It hasn’t started yet,” you offer. The very idea of it is depressing. “There hasn’t been any blood since the healing took hold, nearly four weeks now.”

“After what you went through I’m not at all surprised. It may take several months for your body to find a balance.” She smiles softly, patting your ankle at the end of the bed. “I need to check you.”

“I suppose a reprieve is welcome, but I can’t be too far away from my time. I’ve felt the cramps for a week now and my breasts ache.” You inch toward the end of the bed, pulling up your nightgown and spreading your legs for her to check you.

“Do you have any discomfort?”

“No, not at the moment. But I am awfully tired. And my appetite has left me. Sam is concerned I’ll develop a fever.”

“I see.” She touches you carefully, poking and prodding as delicately as she can. “Have you experienced any lightheadedness?”

“Well, yes, I attributed that to the fact that I haven’t been eating. Do you think there is cause for concern?” you ask, only imagining all the horrific complications that might occur.

“Concern?” She looks up from between your knees, pulling your skirts back down. “No, but I do think there is cause to be careful.”

“Of what?”

“I think, my queen, that you are with child.”

“What?” you sputter, sitting upright. Your breath is short, disbelief making you fuzzy with a surging hope. “You think that’s possible?”

“I think it is probable,” she grins giving your hand a squeeze. “Can you urinate for me?”

“Of course!” Gripping the bed frame you pull yourself up, and she comes to your side, helping you to the chamber pot.

Digging through her bags, she retrieves a small bowl and then pours a premixed power into the bottom. You relieve yourself and she makes sure to catch some in the bowl. You both watch the reaction as the black powder immediately begins to smoke and sizzle, turning yellow.

“What does it mean?” you beg her for an answer.

“You, my queen, have been blessed with a child.”

You sent Philip hours ago to find your husband and yet there’s been no word from either of them. Pacing back and forth across in front of the fire in the great hall you listen to your footsteps echo off the walls. Never would you have thought that the idea of having a child would bring such joy, but you can’t deny this happiness. After everything that you’ve endured, you’re grateful for this gift.

It’s unclear how Sam will react. He’s grown more and more distant over the last weeks, seeking his brother’s council and avoiding any real conversation at all costs. Your deepest fear is that he’ll be upset. It’s only natural that he should want to be with someone who can not only give him children but also satisfy him. After what’s happened you couldn’t blame him if he’s re-thought his decision to bring you here.

The tall doors open, hitting each of the respective walls with a thud as Sam strides toward you pulling off his gloves. His hair is wild from the ride in, and his cheeks still pink from the nip of the winter air.

“What’s happened?” He looks at you expectantly. “Is something wrong, are you hurt?”

“No,” you wring your hands, walking closer to him. “I’m feeling rather well, actually.”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” He grimaces, looking around the room to ensure you’re alone. “You’re still healing.”

“I’m healed,” you counter, nervously biting your lip. “I have news.”

“News that couldn’t wait?” He cocks an eyebrow. You can see right through him. This is his defense, he’s snippy when he wants to keep you at arm's length.

“I thought you would want to know as soon as possible.” Your cheeks grow warm, throat suddenly dry at the prospect of confessing this development.

“Tell me,” he insists, impatient and on edge.

“You are going to be a father.” You offer a faint smile, trying to gauge his reaction.

Sam’s entire face drains of color, his features falling slack as he looks at you in shock. It seems as if he might be sick, taking a shallow breath he stares at you wide eyed.

“It can’t be,” he whispers, making no move. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you confirm, feeling tears spring to your eyes. He’s utterly gutted, spoiling your excitement for this tiny life inside you. “I have the tell tale signs and Martha did one of her tests.”

You stare at each other, Sam seemingly unable to speak in response. He looks at the floor, swimming in his own head as you wait for something, anything.

“I am sorry this is a disappointment for you,” you sputter, wiping tears from your cheeks.

He lets out a sharp laugh, a wild uncontrolled snort and before you know what’s happening you’re in his arms, being held so tightly that you can scarcely breathe.

“I am not disappointed,” he chortles into your hair. “I’ve never been so happy in all my life.”

“Thank God,” you cry against his shirt, letting out a sigh of relief. “I thought you were angry with me.”

“How could I be angry?” He laughs again and you hear the stammer in his voice, he’s crying right along with you. “I thought I’d ruined our chances of ever having a child and now this. I am a lucky man. God must not have completely abandoned me.”

“Don’t say such things,” you mutter into this chest. “Sam, you’re - I can’t breathe.”

“I’m sorry.” He releases you, stepping back and leaning down to your eye level as he grasps both your shoulders. His wet eyes are lit up with elation, accompanied by a smile that he can’t seem to stop. “You are sure of it?”

“Yes, it’s still very early but Martha is convinced. It’s a good omen.”

“It is,” he confirms, clasping your face with both hands before planting a happy kiss to your lips. “My wife,” he confirms against your mouth. Something seems to shake his thoughts loose as he pulls back to look down at you. “You should be in bed.”

“I am with child, not an invilid.”

“No,” he shakes his head, taking you by the hand and pulling you toward the hallway. “You’ve been through enough. You need rest, for you and our child.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You try to pull away but he’ll have none of it. “Sam, I can’t stay in bed indefinitely.”

“Do you have any idea what this means?” He pulls you up beside him, slowing his stride. Two knights fall in line behind and then two more. There’s always someone watching and listening. He glances back and leans down to speak to you in confidence. “Keeping you and this child safe are the only things that matter.”

“But I’m not in any danger,” you insist.

“That we know of,” his words send a shiver down your spine.

“What does that mean?”

“Do you know how many people would love to see me suffer? Luther is at the top of that list, but I have nearly as many enemies as allies. There are men in the village who believe that Dean raped their daughters when he was newly turned. They hold me accountable because he wasn’t punished.”

“Did he?” you stare at Sam in horror, being ushered down a labyrinth of stone and mortar.

“I don’t believe so, but I can’t say anything with confidence anymore. The change makes men savage. At the very least he turned them and that alone is something they don’t understand. Daughters came back home to their fathers and husbands with claiming bites on their necks. Their contempt for me is understandable.”

“I can’t hide away in the castle, Sam. And it’s not fair of you to ask me. I’ll go crazy in that room day after day.”

“It’s not forever,” he offers, ushering you into your room and closing the door to seal away prying ears. “Do this for me now, while I sort out how to handle Luther and the like.”

He stares at you, and you can see the wheels turning. There’s more, you’re sure of it, more that he’s not telling you.

“Why do you want me in my room?” you press, looking around the chamber. You could tell him how bricks make up the walls and the number of cracks in the ceiling, you’ve already spent so much time here. “Who are you afraid of? The guards? Your brother?”

“There are those who are like me, wolves, that tolerated my marrying you. But it’s always been assumed that we would not be able to conceive a child. The fact that your belly will grow with my pup is...upsetting to some.”

“Because I am human?”

“Yes.”

“That’s preposterous,” you scoff. “I’m to be treated like a shameful secret because I haven’t been bitten under a full moon?!”

“Calm down.” He’s vibrating with nervous energy as he steals glances at your stomach as if he expects you to swell up before his very eyes. “I shouldn’t upset you.”

“Too late.”

“Listen to me,” he places his hands on your shoulders forcing you to sit at the edge of the bed. Then he drops to his knees in front of you. “This is important. Who else knows about the child?”

“No one, I wanted to tell you before anyone else,” you confirm and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“Martha knows, what about Philip?”

“Only Martha.”

“We need to keep it that way as long as possible.”

“But it’s such happy news,” you’re crestfallen, the joy draining right out of you. “Surely I can write to my parents. And most of the village would be so happy that their king has an heir.”

“Yes, and we will do all those things. But first we need to ensure that we have a strong, growing baby.”

While it does feel as if he’s overreacting a bit, the instinct to protect the life inside you is already strong. If anything happened your heart would break in two.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“I’m going to make Lebanon a safe place for both of you, I promise,” he nods.

Four Months Later

Dinner was delicious. It was nothing more than seasoned, boiled potatoes and fish from the river, but you’ve been ravenous for the last week, eating everything in sight. Food that was once bland and boring, now makes your mouth water at the very thought.

Meals are brought to your chambers now. Save for an early morning walk through the castle with Philip, you’re relegated to this room.

You spend countless hours reading and when you can’t read another word you stare out your window at the bustling village below and try to imagine the sights and sounds and smells. What you wouldn’t give to bump into a foul smelling blacksmith or an eager child running through the streets.

You’re starving for both human interaction and physical affection. Save for a stiff kiss on the cheek and an awkward pat of his hand, Sam will not touch you. He treats you like fragile glass, admiring from afar but never getting too close.

He eats his meals with you and in the evenings stays for games of chess. Sometimes he will read aloud until you fall asleep, but then he absconds into the night leaving you just as lonely as when you first came to Lebanon.

Sam is not a match for you in chess, he’s good but you’re always three moves ahead. You can see it mapped out in your mind. Some nights, if he’s had a long day, you let him win. Tonight his long fingers touch the pieces, resting on the queen as he intends to move her out.

“It’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” you offer, nodding towards the queen.

Sam stops, nodding and considering your warning. “Yes, yes you’re right.”

“You’re trying a different strategy tonight?” you counter, smiling as you watch him work through the possibilities. “You normally leave your king unprotected.”

“You love to point out my fatal flaws, don't you?” A hint of a grin pulls at his mouth.

“I want you to get better and give me a worthy opponent.”

“My wife has a smart mouth this evening,” he chuckles, eyeing your pieces.

“It’s always smart. I just normally keep my thoughts to myself.”

He grunts, still deciding his next move.

“Are Golda and Philip making sure you have everything you need?” he asks, fingering the intricate knight carved out of wood. This set was a gift from your parents, hand carved and polished with care.

“They bring me anything I ask for,” you confirm, feeling as if your sanity is slowly slipping away. If he’s not careful he’ll come back to find you making conversation with the rook.

“I'm glad to hear it.”

“Sam,” you start.

“Hmm?” he responds without looking up, studying the board.

“Do you know what I need most of all?”

“What? Tell me.”

“I need you. I need you to be here with me. I need my husband to sleep in this bed, to stay with me in the night. To hold me and make me feel safe. More than anything else, that is what will ensure this child comes into the world.”

Y/N,” he looks away, getting up and walking over to the bed. “I am sorry I haven’t been here as much as you would like.”

“It is because you feel guilty?” you press, watching him flinch.

“The things I did to you-” he has to stop, shaking his head and looking away to avoid your stare. You don’t talk about his rut, it upsets him to no end.

“I knew what the risks were when I agreed to stay with you.”

“Did you?” Sam shoots back, his body going stiff. “Because even I never thought I was capable of that. What I did to you, I’ve never come close to before that night. All I can think about is how scared you must have been, and the pain you endured while you begged me to stop.”

“Stop torturing yourself.” You get up, walking closer. “I don’t remember anything that happened. I am of sound mind and body, healthy as a horse and carrying your baby. We are lucky, Sam. Can’t you focus on that?”

“How is it possible you don’t hate me?” His eyes stutter between yours, tears welling up in the corners as he fights to get himself under control. “I forced myself on you. I nearly killed you.”

“No, you most certainly did not force yourself on me,” you counter, allowing him to hear the anger building in your voice. You point to the bed and he obediently takes a seat. “I gave myself over to you of my own free will, knowing what could happen. You have to stop talking this way. You’re wallowing in what happened and I have moved on.”

“You called me a monster once and you were right to do so.”

“No, I was very wrong,” you implore, taking one of his large hands between both your own. “Can’t you see how much I love you? I loved you then and I love you even more now. Please Sam, please, find a way to forgive yourself and stay with me.”

“You love me?” He smiles weakly, mouth quivering as he holds his emotions in check.

“Some days, so much it feels as if my heart may burst.” You search his face, hoping to burn the words into him. “Not only do I love you, but I miss you. I am so lonely in this place. You gave me a taste of what it was like to have a happy, present husband and then took it away from me when I need you most. That is what’s cruel. I want our child to know parents who care for one another.”

“Can you love a husband that has to be with another woman?” he counters, nostrils flaring as he awaits your response.

“I’ve already accepted that,” you whisper, looking down at his hand, tracing a blue vein up into his wrist. “You have to promise me that you’ll never claim her.”

“I would not,” his eyes narrow, genuinely surprised by that request. His hand trails up to your throat, fingers finding the scars from his bites. “I have already claimed my mate.”

“It doesn’t make a difference that I’m not like you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. The hand at your neck moves to cradle your jaw. “I’ve known you were the only one I wanted since I smelled you on your father’s letter. And I’ve loved you since you stood next to me on our wedding day. I can’t explain it, I just knew. I would do anything for you.”

“Anything?” you murmur as the warm, rough pad of his fingers trail across your cheek.

“Yes,” he nods, his eyes fixed on your lips.

“Then stop running away from me and start sleeping in our bed again.”

“As you wish,” he smiles an exhausted smile of surrender. One of his hands goes to your stomach and he nearly recoils when he feels the small bump nestled in your belly. It’s well hidden but bigger every day. “I didn’t think there would be anything this early.”

“The midwife says I’m growing much faster than normal,” you confirm, taking his hand to place it back at your stomach. “And this is an excellent reminder of how long it’s been since you last touched me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to see it?”

He looks up, his expression telling you all you need to know. You turn so that he can help you with your dress. You strip down, pulling the shift off, leaving you stark naked.

When you’re nude it’s easy to see where your once flat stomach is rounding out. Sam lets out a heavy breath through his nose, pulling you to the edge of the bed where he’s sitting, as he cups his child with both hands. When he looks up his eyes are wet, and his sad smile has returned.

“I’ve never seen anything as beautiful in my life...look at you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. “He has actually been very kind to me. After those first weeks, I haven’t felt sick or tired.”

“He?”

“I just have a feeling.” You watch him move his fingers delicately back and forth over the skin of your belly.

Sam is just as handsome as he’s always been, but at this moment he definitely looks more rugged than the man you married. His beard and hair have gone uncut for months, and if you didn’t know he was a king he would pass for any woodsman in the forest. “I meant it when I said that I miss you.” You run a hand through his mane of hair, fingers catching in the tangles. Pulling your own hair back you expose his claiming bite and take one of his hands, bringing it up to your neck. His eyes follow, the tone shifting as you lean into him. “It’s been so long since we’ve been together.”

“I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You never once hurt me, before your rut.”

“What about the baby?”

“There’s nothing to worry about. Except your wife sleeping alone in a cold bed.”

He lets his forehead rest between your breasts, making a pained expression and nuzzling closer as he fights with himself. He’s still got one hand over his claim, the other cradling his child.

“I am already yours,” you urge him on. “All you have to do is take me.” Taking the hand on your stomach, you move it down, guiding his knuckles between your thighs. Placing a kiss between your breasts he looks up at you, long fingers finding their way to your sex.

You stare at each other as two fingers slide between your folds and slip into your channel. You’re not exactly wet, but eager enough that he can find his way inside without resistance. He grunts, still looking you in the eyes as his thumb finds your bud.

Gasping quietly you widen your stance, grabbing onto his shoulders to steady yourself as he works you with his hand.

“I want you inside me,” you confess, moaning softly while his thumb sweeps back and forth over your clit.

“I don’t deserve to feel that good,” he groans, rubbing his cheek over your breast. “I can’t-

“Yes, you can.” You reach down, easily finding his cock straining against the crotch of his trousers. “Let me…”

His fingers slip from between your legs as you open his belt. He’s not helping but it doesn’t matter. You manage to pull his cock free and before he can protest you crawl into his lap.

“Y/N-”

“Shhh,” you hush him, gripping one shoulder for balance and using the other to guide the head of his cock between your folds. “Don’t you want me to have pleasure?”

“Yes,” he hisses, eyes shut tight, his beard scratching against your nipples as he tries to bury himself in your scent.

You’re slick enough now to easily slide down onto him, letting the weight of your body do the work as you settle into his lap. The stretch of him drives the breath from your lungs as you take him to the hilt, wiggling on his length. It’s been a long time and your whole body flushes hot with desire as he fills you completely.

Sam lets out a long, low groan, both hands finding your hips to hold you in place. He doesn’t move, just huffs hot and hard as you squeeze your cunt around him.

There are many layers to his hesitation, but you know it’s all fueled by guilt. So you take the power away from him, allow him to give up his control and make this about you.

“You feel so good,” you whimper, lifting yourself up and down on his cock. Everything is more sensitive than it was before. Perhaps it’s a combination of healed wounds and his child that make everything tighter and better. You could finish just like this, no added touch is needed, not anymore. “I want you to have pleasure too, Sam,” you mutter, moving your hips faster lifting yourself up and down in perfect rhythm. “We deserve to love each other, just like this.”

He’s still fighting it, refusing to look at you. So you slow down, taking his face in your hands.

“Open your eyes,” you command, and he does, looking at you as his throat bobs with a gulp.

“I’d rather die than hurt you again,” he whispers, one hand leaving your hip to spread wide as it slides up your back.

“It hurts more to be without you.” You lean down, tilting his head upward into a kiss. “Stop thinking,” you implore against his mouth, his beard rubbing your lips raw. “Just be here in this moment with me.”

Your tongue slips past his lips and you move faster, working his cock until your thighs are burning from the effort. You can feel the ring of muscle at the base of his shaft begin to swell. Leaning back in his lap you gasp for air, moving quickly toward your peak. His mouth is dragging across your collarbone, hot breath and sharp teeth on your skin.

“You should stop,” he warns. His thumbs dig into the flesh of your hips, trying to slow you down but you’ll have none of it.

“You want me to feel good, don’t you?” you ask breathlessly.

“Of course,” he nods, his mouth falling open in pleasure.

“Then stop telling me what to do,” you quip.

You’re so close and he is too. You sink down, letting his knot slip inside your folds, then drop all your weight into his lap.

“You can’t-”

“I want it,” you insist, leaning back.

He’s about to protest further when you wedge your hand between your bellies, rubbing your own bud. You both cum at the same time. His knot pops thick and wide, forcing you open as you reach your peaks in tandem, tightening and clenching around his knot. It’s never felt like this before, there’s always been discomfort but not this time. There’s nothing but supreme pleasure as you writhe and moan with his knot buried inside your channel.

His open mouth presses against the hollow of your throat, a long groan of pleasure vibrating against trembling, sweating skin. You feel him empty inside you, that thick warmth spurting again and again until he has nothing more to give.

You, however, are still swimming in ecstasy. Gripping the back of his neck with one hand and his arm with the other, you’re hanging on for dear life, stilling writhing in his lap. The tug of his knot only adds to the satisfaction as you pant and squirm wishing you could always feel exactly like this.

Twitching with tiny sparks of your waning orgasm you fall forward, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close.

“Sam,” you gasp, kissing him desperately. “I’ve never felt so wonderful in all my life.”

You’re teetering on the edge of something undefined. You’ve just exploded but there’s still an ache, a need for more as you sway with his knot trapped deep within your walls.

“You’re not done,” he mumbles as he licks the skin under your jaw, nipping gently as he grabs a handful of your backside. “I can feel how much you need it.”

There are no words to describe the overwhelming lust you feel as he licks his thumb and then brings it to your bud. You lean back to watch while he works you with a skilled touch, nothing too hard or fast, just the constant sweep of his thumb as you rock in his lap, enjoying the strain of his knot.

You cum a second time with Sam inside you and around you, feeling his touch and the heat of his body. You’re vaguely aware as you cry out, calling his name. You clench and shake, left nothing more than a puddle of a woman, draped over his shoulder as you pant for air.

“Are you alive?” he asks, making no attempt to cover the pride in his voice.

“I’m not sure,” you smile, squeezing your arms tight around his neck. “Ask me again later.”

“As you wish.”

You hold each other for a long time, only separating when his knot allows it, only to be wrapped up in him again as he tucks you both into bed.

“You’ll stay with me?” you need the confirmation.

His arms tighten around you as he kisses the back of your head. “Yes, I should have been with you this whole time. I will not leave you again. I swear it.”

#alpha!sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester smut

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smilepal · 3 years

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👹🍊 🏀 🐟 ❤ :3c

Character ask meme for @billlybutcher ☺️

👹--How does you OC act around different people and how does their personality change to match the environment they’re in? How do they act with: friends, family, strangers, children or their lover(s)?

Hiro's personality/how he comes off is very dependent on who he's around. He takes pride in being adaptable to most situations, and being able to keep up a mask, or have people perceive him a certain way. It's easy to act--put on a show, let people see what you want them to see. This, in combination with a lack of fear, and the ability to be charming, at least with his mouth shut--has allowed him to bullshit his way out of situations he maybe shouldn't have been able to. If it seems like you're supposed to be there, and you know what you're doing, you can usually get away with quite a bit? He's quick to put on a front around strangers, depending on what he wants from them. Clients will usually perceive him as someone who's there to get the job done, quickly and without a whole lot of bullshit. He's to the point, often to the extent of being a bit abrupt/and wants to get the whole ordeal over with so he can get paid. If he wants something/is off-work though, he can be pretty charming--especially in the right context/if someone's caught his eye. He's still pretty direct in that regard, albeit less abrasive. He still has a mouth on him though, and that never changes much.

With friends he tends to let his guard down a bit, if they're very close to him--and with family as well. He still holds back a bit though, and it's something he still struggles with sometimes even if he has gotten better over time. Close friends/family are treated to a rare glimpse of a softer side, one that is strangely sentimental, and remembers the tiny details about people--a favorite flower, or song they like--stuff that makes them happy. He's a little hesitant around children, and honestly they scare him a bit. They're small, and have so much energy, and are just all over the place and he's the one to look back at their guardians for help. Despite this, he tries to be nice to them and makes a genuine effort not to seem too scary, and just hopes that none of them think he makes a good role model--something he hasn't been entirely successful with. With his lovers/people who've managed to get beyond the initial instinct to keep people at a distance (at least emotionally) he's a very dedicated, loyal partner. He might not always know how to convey something verbally, or get tripped up and have it come out less gracefully than he'd like, but he's not afraid to show affection through actions and gestures, and is always trying to find new ways to do so--whether that's spending quality time with them, or finding out how to cook their favorite meal for them.

🍊--Does your OC have any triggers? Why do these things trigger them? What are they like when triggered and how do they calm down after?

Hiro has a couple, not that he'd ever be forthcoming about that to others, or honestly, to himself. He's very reliant on his senses, and being deprived of any of them is something that deeply unsettles him/can push him into a spiral if it goes too far--the sense of being unmoored or untethered is enough to make him panic, especially if it's deliberate. He...doesn't do great with feeling helpless, and being cut off from his senses just amplifies that. Even in day-to-day life, he doesn't like complete silence. Being alone with his thoughts is something he genuinely tries to avoid, and dead silence exacerbates it. He tries to maintain at least some small level of background noise--usually the bustle of Night City/ambient sounds are enough, but if he's at home or driving, he likes to have the radio on in the background or music playing quietly.

In general, Hiro rarely lets his guard down, always keeping an eye out, both for his own safety and for others--and if someone manages to take him by surprise, even if it's on accident, he usually doesn't respond great. At the very best, he's fairly defensive or prickly/and if they're not someone he cares about maintaining a relationship with/if was done maliciously there could be a fight. His fight or flight response is strong, and it's just determined by how much he values a relationship. If there's a way out, he'll take it rather than risk an argument, but if pushed far enough, he'd snap at someone, loved one or not. That would usually take deliberate goading on their part though--usually by prying into his business more closely than he'd like or trying to get answers out of him he isn't comfortable giving.

Hiro takes a while to calm down/wind himself down after. He responds pretty strongly, and tries to remove himself from the situation as fast as possible. Typically if it’s really bad, he’s not going to want to talk about it and might just disappear for a bit—he’ll either get on his bike and go for a ride, or go clubbing/dancing. If it’s bad, and he feels like he can’t be around people, he might go spar with a training bag, and try to get some of his agitation out that way. Most of his coping skills are typically very physical—and all things considered, usually fairly healthy outlets. He tries to wear himself out enough that he doesn’t have to think very hard, or just surround himself with so much noise/stimulation he literally can’t focus on anything else.

🏀--Does your OC have any skills that people wouldn’t expect them to have? Do they have a hobby or pass time that others would consider strange or weird? How did they learn this particular skill or pick up this hobby?

Hiro is a surprisingly talented baker. He obviously never had much time for it before he left the Tyger Claws, or the opportunity to do something he’d consider so frivolous, but he picked it up from Mama Welles after he met Jackie. For the fact that he’s still pretty nervous cooking, he’s actually a decent baker, and enjoys how much he can tune everything else out while he’s doing it. He rarely bakes for himself, seeing it as something that isn’t necessarily worth the cost of supplies/the time commitment, but if there was even an inkling that someone else would appreciate it—they’d be quick to find some sort of homemade treat waiting for them when they least expect it—and as he’d be quick to point out—he looks damn cute in an apron. Most of his hobbies are pretty normal—dancing, boxing, rock climbing, and usually fairly physical. He’s been dancing for a long time, but the boxing he picked up from Jackie/Viktor, and the rock climbing from Victory. He also loves to race bikes and this is a definitely a hold-over from his TC days. It’s not necessarily a weird hobby, but people usually don’t expect him to like clothing/shopping as much as he does—and it’s usually where a lot of his extra income disappears to (well that and expensive stuff for his hair.)

🐟--What was your OC like as a baby? What were they like as a child? A teenager? An adult? How do you think they’ll develop ten years into their future? Twenty years? Will they live to old age?

Hiro was a really quiet child—and desperate for any sort of guidance/attention. His role models growing up weren’t good ones, and they definitely used this as an opportunity to manipulate him. He was very approval-seeking, and would take that wherever he could find it, even if meant trusting people he probably shouldn’t have. Granted, he didn’t know much better, but the lesson stuck with him, and it left him a much warier adult. Hiro was a god-awful shit as a teenager. He was still in the Tyger Claws at the time, and there was a lot of repressed anger/trauma there with almost zero outlets. There are a few relationships he maintains from before he cut ties with TC, but they are few and far between, Judy and Viktor being the biggest ones—and even those went through rocky periods.

Ten years into the future, it really depends if he can stay clear of the gangs or not. The likelihood of him allying himself with a corporation is slim to none, but enough bad choices/impulsive decisions might still lead him down a not-so-good path. Twenty years—he’d either be the healthiest he’s ever been, with strong relationships with others, and a circle of people he’s truly grown to trust, or what he absolutely used to dread/fear becoming. It all depends on whether he puts personal relationships/growth over what’s easier for him/seems to come a little too easily, and lets himself get consumed by the darker side of Night City. Regardless, he’d probably survive to old age—honestly out of sheer spite. He’s always been driven by survival/keeping himself alive, and would honestly do so even if only to outlive his enemies. Even into older age though, he’d still try to keep himself sharp. Whatever the case, the likelihood of a peaceful retirement somewhere seems far-fetched. He’d still manage to find his way into the middle of things, even if only unintentionally.

❤️--What inspired you to make this OC? How long have you had them? How have they changed in the time you’ve been developing them?

Oh boy, I’ll try not to get too long-winded with this. Hiro started as an OC for an unnamed futuristic story—probably about two-ish years ago? I’d just seen Bladerunner (as well as the more recent sequel) for the first time, and I’d never gotten too deeply into the genre before. But I realized I wanted to create a character that would fit into one one these universes—someone scrappy, a survivor at heart, and who wasn’t afraid to risk his own safety for his found family. He didn’t have a lot of depth when I first created him (although the name stuck—he was always Hiro, and it never felt right changing it). He initially was a lot less sympathetic, and honestly—even aggravated me a bit. I tried to create a character that was a little more balanced, and someone who had flaws but wasn’t completely unlikeable, and who’s impulsive actions led to actual, lasting consequences. His initial character (even before I fit him into the CP universe) began as a sort of android, who could almost, but not quite pass as human. He still has fairly extensive cybernetics, and relies on them heavily, but not as much as he had previously.

Even when I was first developing him as a Cyberpunk OC, he was more focused on guns/ranged weapons/stealth. It was only after playing cyberpunk, that my play-style began to influence his character and he became much more strength/melee based. And honestly? I’m really happy he did. He’s not my usual type of character, at least in that regard and it’s been fun leaning into it—and making him this character who’d rather punch first and think later. (Also not at all influenced by the fact that I’m impatient as hell and net hacking/stealth just takes so long.) He developed along-side Vic, and her character really helped me to realize how Hiro would interact with other characters—especially ones who have such different backstories/upbringing, and the process of creating him, and being able to bounce ideas off someone else (“hey wouldn’t it be cool if this happened?”) was a huge part in inspiring me, and was so helpful, having someone to respond to that character and provide their own feedback (and vice-versa). Also honestly, Hiro was created after a long period of me not being super creative/artistically motivated. It was the middle of COVID and I was so fucking bored, and not doing much outside of work and classes. So he was an amazing creative outlet for me—helped to get me to start writing again, and eventually led me to tumblr/discord and a lot of really fantastic people, and the sort of community I’d needed.

Wow, uh sorry this got so long. But man, thanks for asking--was really, really fun 😍💖

#aaaa I'm sorry this took so long #character asks #ask memes #hiro oda #thanks for your patience #🖤🖤🖤#character headcanons #cyberpunk ocs #uh got a bit carried away with this one 😅#okay tho they're long questions--ya can hardly blame me #victory delvin #tyger claws #very long post #victory delvin belongs to shinycorvidae #this bitch ended up being almost 2000 words holy shit--wish I could write actual papers this easily 😂

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