#look at the character and if they were born as the opposite sex how it would shape their life and how they would look based on that

[zomyoo]

⠀ 𝗝.𝗪𝗪 ━ the vampire i loved 。

you fell asleep reading your all time favorite fantasy book, wishing you were born in its universe. when you wake up, you realize you're no longer in your bedroom.

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: smut included! biting, mentions of blood and blood sucking, teasing, overstimulating, pet names, mirror fucking, multiple rounds, unprotected sex.

⟢ vampire!wonwoo x collegestudent!reader ⠀⠀—⠀⠀𝗪𝗖: 2,656

read part two here.

your jaw dropped at the gut-wrenching ending of the book you had borrowed from your friend. the whole novel had your toes curling and kept your underwear wet, how could the ending be the total opposite of the lewd feeling you once had? tears formed at the corner of your eyes, threatening to drop as you processed the death of your favorite character. you understood that the author had to make the ending as memorable as the plot was, but you never knew, or even thought they could do such a terrible thing to the character everyone loved.

you had been reading this series for a few years now, and you had finally finished it. you thanked the lord and remained grateful to your friend for having and allowing you to borrow the last book. being a college student, you barely had money to feed yourself and the job market was really demanding, so how the heck would you be able to afford any of your hobbies?

you closed the book to avoid staining it with your tears and sunk into your bed, sadness taking over your body. you had made up a whole story of your own with him; you were both married and lived in a castle hidden in the depths of a large forest with two black cats but the author killing him off just crushed all your dreams.

he was only a character, sure, but he awakened your love for vampires and the desire to be one yourself, you couldn’t just let that go. you stared at the poster on the ceiling, his beautiful face causing you to get more consumed by your sadness. with a sigh escaping your lips, you decided to go to bed, actually eager to fix your sleep schedule, which will probably last till you obsess over a new book.

awokened by the sound of chirping birds and a cold breeze coming in contact with your skin, you slowly opened your eyes, confused as your gaze fell upon trees and not the man who haunted your dreams. you sat up, the leaves beneath you rubbing together to create a noise, which was one of the two sounds that could be heard in the forest you somehow ended up in.

“what the fuck...” you whispered, standing up from the concrete floor as you looked around, the path looking a little too familiar. you couldn’t exactly recall where you had seen or heard of it, but you knew where it led and you began walking down it. using your hands to cover your exposed arms, you rubbed them, eager to feel warm.

the scenery was one you had never seen before. trees with little to no leaves and crows sitting on their branches hovered over you and the environment was completely dull, submerged in the heavy fog. in the distance, you could see a lantern, which was the first and only source of light you had seen since you magically teleported into this alternative universe.

as you walked into the depths of the forest, the lanterns multiplied, it was like they were leading the way, lighting up one by one. you found yourself fascinated in front of what could only be explained by witchcraft, no modern science would be able to replicate something like this.

soon enough, you saw something peeking above the trees, with the silhouette it created, you assumed it was a castle, or at least a building similar to one. as you approached it, you were faced with a type of architecture you would love to see more of; vertical proportions, pointed arches, external buttressing, asymmetry and long stained-glass windows.

you were very much fond of the gothic style it had and in awe of seeing right in front of your eyes. you had seen similar buildings before, but none compared to the originals. you snapped out of your thoughts and decided to walk in, certain you were drawn here for a reason.

as you pushed open the door, you peaked inside, seeing nothing but darkness, which you were never afraid of up until now. the emptiness of the room before you sent chills down your spine, and you could sense a presence in there, which made you freeze in place, wondering if you should step in. perhaps you had made the wrong choice by following those lanterns.

“come in.” a deep voice echoed from across the room, causing you to flinch and turn your head towards the direction of the sound. not wanting to anger whomever invited you in, unsure what they were capable of, you did as told and shut the door behind you.

a light in the middle of the room suddenly turned on, it was dim but it sufficed to see most of the furnitures scattered around the room, some of them covered with a white cloth. however, that was the least of your concerns, your eyes wandered around the room, adjusting to the areas that remained in the darkness in hopes of finding a human silhouette, though you doubted anything in here would share that in common.

suddenly, you felt a strong presence behind you, and before you could do anything, you felt yourself getting embraced. “i’ve been waiting for you.” the manly voice spoke once more before its owner sniffed you, buring his head in your neck and licking your skin.

you weren’t so sure how to feel about everything that had happened in the past few seconds. a random man had his arms wrapped around you, kept going on about how much he’s been waiting for you, and constantly sniffed your neck like your scent was enchanting him.

“okay... who are you?” you questioned, trying to break away from his grasp, which only grew tighter the more you fought it off. at your question, the man turned you around so you could see his face, and you almost fell on your knees as you did so.

“...won..wonwoo?” you screamed, pinching yourself to make sure you were not dreaming. “how the fuck are you still alive after getting killed off? and how the hell am i even talking to you right now? you’re a god damn character in a stupid book.”

“my love, if i was only a character, would i be able to do this?” he asked, gently placing his right hand on your back, using his strength to pull you in close, then placed his left hand on your chin, lifting it up as he looked into your eyes before planting a soft kiss on your lips.

you were quick to wrap your arms around his neck, your sudden move causing him to smirk and bite your lip. you slightly opened your mouth, which was enough for him to slip his tongue in, intertwining it with yours. you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on, one of your biggest fantasies was happening and you weren’t even sure if it was real.

the man slid his hand underneath your silk buttoned up shirt, the coldness of his touch made you flinch, but it was quickly replaced with pleasure when he began squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples. you were still in your pajamas, so you didn’t have any underwear on, which made everything easily accessible for him.

you moaned in his mouth, wanting more than his touch. you had been craving this man since you set your eyes on the book cover, desperately wishing he was real, wishing he would touch every single part of your body with his mouth, fingers and his cock. speaking of, you wondered if he was as big as the author described.

“wo..wonwoo plea..please...” you managed to let out, your voice muffled in the heated make out session you both had going on. he pulled away from the kiss and in a second, he removed your shirt, exposing your uncovered breasts, which he stared at whilst biting his lips. “they’re so beautiful.” he spoke, a red tint appearing on your cheeks as you slowly slipped out of your shorts, completely denuded before him.

he licked his lips at the sight of your naked body, his gaze trailing from up to down, taking in the view of your perky breasts, the goosebumps that formed on your body due to the sudden change of temperature, your thighs touching eachother, and your swollen cunt that wanted nothing but him. “touch yourself.” he commanded, and you laid down on what you assumed was a sofa, spreading your legs wide for him to see.

you put two fingers in your mouth, sucking them before your inserted them in your pussy, pulling them in and out as fast as you could. your free hand was on your breast, squeezing it as you imagined it was him. you threw your head backwards, breaking the eye contact you held with him, as you moved faster, your moans and the sweet noise of your wet cunt took over the room. he wished your sounds reached him directly, so he could be the only one able to hear them.

as he watched you, he couldn’t help but want to touch himself as well. he threw his clothes off his body and took his hardened cock in his right hand, stroking it alongside your constant moans. “wonwoo....” you cried out, literally going insane from lacking his touch.

as you moaned out his name, he walked over to you and shoved his cock in your mouth. your eyes widened at his length but that didn’t stop you from wanting to take him fully. the hand you used to massage your chest was now wrapped around his cock, and you were moving your head back and forth to please him, all while looking into his eyes.

his moans sounded so sweet. it wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely enough to make you cum. as you did, he began throatfucking you, wanting to reach his climax as well. “fuck..you feel so good.” he mumbled, a loud groan escaping his mouth as he cummed into yours.

after you swallowed his seeds, you got on your knees and kissed him, his hand reaching forward to grab your ass, lifting you up. as you wrapped your legs around him, melting underneath his touch, he sat on the sofa and you began grinding his cock, letting out soft moans. you buried your fingers in his hair, and slowly slid his cock in. “oh my god.” you uttered, your words followed by a loud moan as his length made it all the way in.

you began moving, taking it a step at a time to make it enjoyable for the both of you. as you moved faster, he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts whilst resting his hands on your hips. he felt too good and you enjoyed yourself way too much. riding his dick felt like heaven and his obsession with your body sent you straight to paradise. he made sure to touch you everywhere and it excited you even more. some of the things he did were very specific, it was like he had been reading you and knew all of your turn ons.

“i..i’m so close...” you breathed out, and he used a finger to draw circles your clit. the sudden overstimulation caused you to grab his shoulders and bury your head on his chest, jumping faster on his cock until you reached your high and eventually released.

“shall we go upstairs?” he questioned, lifting you up as you nodded your head, a little shocked at his ability to still want to continue. he had a lot of stamina, and you adored it.

he laid you down on the bed, turning you on your stomach so you could face the mirror right in front of the both of you. honestly, you had never been in this kind of situation before, and staring at yourself while getting fucked was something you were definitely willing to try, perhaps it could awaken something in you, just like the man playing with your clit started your attraction to vampires.

“wonwoo, do you have fangs?” you questioned, looking at him through the glass. he truly was pretty, you could stare at him all day. “indeed i do, why do you ask?” he said, staring back at you as he gestured for you to get on all fours, and you did as he demanded.

“i would l—” you began, instantly getting cut off as he continually licked your cunt, those small innocent licks turning into him completely getting drowned in your pussy juice. he sucked and swallowed, hungry for more. eating you out and creating circles on your clit weren’t enough, he had to slid in his tongue and eat you from inside. he wanted to devour you completely, your taste was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough of it.

you never thought seeing your cum on his face would turn you on so much, but it did. he swallowed the parts he could and cleaned the rest off with a tissue, which he had a box of in his room for whatever reason you did not wish to know, it was never mentioned in the book.

soon enough, he aligned his cock with your cunt, gently rubbing your clit with his tip. you couldn’t stand the teasing, you wanted to feel him inside you, now. it did not take him long to realize you were needy, you had been moving your hips along with his cock, signaling that you were ready for him.

he smirked before shoving his cock into your cunt, a long sigh escaping your mouth as you tightly gripped the sheets. he slowly began thrusting into you, stretching your insides so his cock could fully fit in. when he felt you clench around him, he moved faster, pounding your beautiful pussy and taking in your moans.

he grabbed you by the hair and lifted your head, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “watch how slutty you look.” he uttered with no response. you were too busy getting rawdogged and fucked with no remorse to pay attention to his words. your eyes rolled back and your back arched as he slammed his cock against your walls with force and speed, filling up all of your needs and darkest desires.

“w..wonwoo...nhh...” you whined, slowly reaching your climax, your body trembling from the amount of pleasure you were feeling. it was too much for your head to handle but not too much for your body who yearned for more than just a dildo to bear.

the man spinned you around, shoving his cock as deep as he could and placing his mouth in your neck, sucking your skin to place his mark. his fangs made their appearance, and though you couldn’t see them, you could definitely feel them on your skin. he licked your neck before biting it, sucking your blood that was to be mixed with his.

he placed his hands on your hips, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he was close. “cum with me baby.” he seductively whispered in your ear, his words followed by a moan you could die to hear. you placed your hands on his shoulders, your grip tightened and your head throwed back as you came on his cock and him in you.

you breathed out loud, not able to contain yourself. you were drained and sure you would never be satisfied by anything less than what he did to you. the man kissed you on your forehead and laid next to you, pulling you into an embrace.

you woke up feeling sore, your head spinning and eyesight blurry. as you were able to see clearly, you had been faced with the same poster you sticked on your ceiling, a sigh of disappointment escaped your lips as you realized it was all a dream.

.... or was it?

dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/saradika-graphics this was NOT proofread, i absolutely hate reading my own shit, and the ending was rushed, please bear with me!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ copyright © 2024 zomyoo, all rights reserved

[signfromeywa]

Finally finished the character sheet from Nanira! 🥰💜

Nanira is a beautiful Reef Na'vi who is courted by many Na'vi men. She enjoys spending a few intimate moments with the opposite sex, but doesn't want to commit to anyone. She is often underestimated because of her beauty when it comes to her fighting skills, which she likes to exploit shamelessly. Nevertheless, she is extremely charming and friendly and approaches other Na'vi with warmth and kindness.

More Lore and backstory:

Nanira was born with her sister Zoa of @furiouspersonakitten into a Reef Na'vi clan that had long suffered at the hands of humans and whalers. When Nanira was 14 and her little sister only 3 years old, the humans attacked the Na'vi tribe and put an end to the long war between the clan and the whalers. In this rather unfair battle, Nanira's parents were also killed and Nanira, who was left behind with her little sister, suddenly had to fight for both of their lives. Although Nanira herself was completely traumatized, she had to take care of her beloved little sister and be strong. She fled with her to the Metkayina, who lovingly took the two girls in. After this incident, Nanira decided to become a strong warrior and was taught by Tonowari herself. Ronal, who had two small children of her own, helped Nanira to learn how to look after a small child. As a result, Nanira grew up very close to the two of them. Of course, Nanira has not yet overcome her trauma, even if you wouldn't notice it in her everyday life. She hates humans more than anything and is blind to the fact that not all humans are evil, because in her eyes she considers them to be real demons and denies them humanity. She is very much out for revenge. This also blinds her when her sister later befriends the Sully children and even Spider.

I hope you like her :3

[eeldritchblast]

They’re Not “Playersexual”, You’re Just Biphobic

(I was going to save this until September 23 because I thought that would be an appropriate date, but the Ask I got included in this essay just put me over the edge. So, here it is now. Buckle up.)

Bisexuality/Pansexuality is the attraction to people regardless of gender. About 4% of the USA alone (over 13.6 million people) openly identify as bisexual, according to Gallup’s latest polling. But unfortunately, bi/pan identities are so scary to some folks that they need to make up terms to avoid calling their favourite characters such. Thus, the term “playersexual” was born: a term to describe a game character who is attracted to the player character... regardless of gender.

If that sounds like it’s just a circuitous way of describing a bi/pan character, it’s because it is.

I first heard of the term “playersexual” almost a decade ago, from a Dragon Age fan complaining that Dorian was gay and thus it was “unfair” that she couldn’t romance him as female character. This fan said they wished BioWare would go back to Dragon Age II’s model of everyone being “playersexual” for “equality”.

Now, if you’ve actually played DA:2 and you’re not a bigot, you’re probably rolling your eyes just as hard as I did when I first read such a ridiculous statement. Well, prepare for this next one:

“When you make a male Hawke, Anders and Fenris are gay and Merrill is straight. Opposite is true if you make a female Hawke.”

These people are so afraid of bisexuality that they cannot even fathom its existence. They can believe in dragons and magic, but they cannot believe that a character is simply bi/pan. I find this especially hilarious for Anders, considering he had a canonical boyfriend, as confirmed both in-game and in The World of Thedas: Vol. 2 book.

I truly thought we were past this nonsense in 2023. I really, truly thought that. But then Baldur’s Gate 3 was released in full, and suddenly these same fuckers came out of the woodwork to bend over backwards avoiding calling these characters anything except bi/pan.

Note how in the above Ask, the anonymous questioner actually doubles down on avoiding addressing these two characters in particular as bi/pan!

“Playersexual” doesn’t even truly work for the characters of Baldur’s Gate 3 regardless, because the definition is oriented around attraction to the player character… which these characters are not exclusively attracted to. Here are some examples that prove otherwise:

If neither Lae’zel nor Astarion/Gale/Wyll are in a romance with the PC, Lae’zel will say she plans on propositioning one of the men for sex at the night of the tiefling party. She also flirts with Karlach in party banter.

Shadowheart expresses interest in Karlach, (“I like her. She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety, should the need arise”) as well as Halsin if he leaves the party, (“he may have been misguided, but I liked looking at him.”)

Astarion flirts with nearly everyone in the party, but to just pick two examples: he mentions Wyll is the type of princely figure he used to dream about marrying, and says to Shadowheart “such a grim name for such a beautiful flower”.

Gale used to date Mystra. He also debatably flirts with Astarion by offering him some blood, after Cazador’s battle.

Wyll flirts with Lae’zel in party banter, and also refers to Halsin as a “delight” and “hunk”.

Karlach seems to have a little crush on Jaheira by the way she reacts to meeting her. She also says of Halsin, “everyone in this camp wants to climb that oak”.

Please keep in mind these are just a few examples I’ve picked out from screening through the dialogue, and there’s even more that prove the attraction to different genders these characters have is not related solely to the player. It’s just part of their identities.

In the Ask sent to me above, the anonymous questioner said they “cannot see Karlach as anything except lesbian and Astarion as gay.” This is just as bad as saying they are “playersexual” in my opinion, because yet again it’s erasing their bisexuality/pansexuality. Worse yet, it’s doing it because of the way the characters act. You cannot measure queerness based on actions and appearances being in line or not with queer stereotypes—it’s not a scale! And bi/pan folks are just as queer as lesbian and gay men, by virtue of simply being bi/pan!

All in all, I think this entire “playersexual” debate boils down to the fact that some people still refuse to see bi/pan identities as anything but “discount straight”. And that’s why people are rightfully angry when folks try to further this myth by pretending bi/pan characters don’t actually exist.

[lewisvinga]

the other woman. | charles leclerc x fem! reader

summary: after his engagement party, y/n realizes that she will always be the other woman..

warnings; mentions of cheating, sex, modern family reference

word count; 1.2 k

note; this song has been stuck in my head

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

f1 masterlist !

Y/n couldn’t believe what she had just read with her own eyes. She reread the invitation again in hopes she had misread it.

You’ve been invited to celebrate the engagement of Charles and Alexandra.

She felt sick to her stomach. She felt like she could just throw up. Lando, a close friend of hers, noticed the look on her face. “What’s wrong? You jealous?” He asks in a teasing tone.

“No!” She exclaims, accidentally saying it in a loud tone. “I-I just don’t feel good.” She lied. She quickly hands him the invite with a smile on her face. “I’m happy for them.”

“‘Bout time Charles proposed to her!” The Brit exclaims with a loud laugh, not noticing how tense she became.

Y/n lets out a laugh at some stupid comment Charles made at the sitcom playing on the TV in front of them. They were both underneath her covers, him in just boxers and her in a plain t-shirt.

After spending hours appreciating each other's bodies and Charles seemingly making love to her, they were still restless. Being restless was just a call to watch sitcoms together.

“C’mon, chérie, you’re telling me that Jay managed to get Gloria?” He asks in a shocked tone, watching a scene of the Modern Family characters.

“C’mon, look at those baby blue eyes!” She exclaims in a teasing tone. He playfully rolls his eyes, pulling her closer. She rested her cheek against his naked chest as a comfortable silence fell upon them while they watched the sitcom.

Y/n opens her mouth to say something when Charles’’ phone began to ring. He checks the caller's I.D. and lets out a quiet string of curses. Alexandra, his girlfriend, was calling. He was quick to get up and get dressed. “I have to go, chérie.” He quietly says.

She sits up in disappointment. A pout adorned her lips as she watched him pull on his pants. “You told me you were going to break up with her last week, Cha.” She mumbles.

“It’s complicated.”

“We’ve been sleeping together for weeks?”

“I’m trying, I promise. It’s just complicated.” Charles lets out a sigh as he pulls his polo over his head. He leans over to press a kiss against Y/n’s forehead. “You’re my girl, you know that. Don’t you?”

She glances up at him with a shy smile and nods. “Yeah, ‘m your girl.” She quietly responds, shifting around on the bed to sit up more comfortably. “Wanna come over this Saturday?”

“Can’t, I have an event with Alexandra and Arthur.” His response made her smile immediately drop and her stomach sink.

“Oh.”

“I’ll see when I’m free, okay?” Charles says with a smile. He leaves one last kiss against her lips before grabbing the rest of his belongings. “See you later, chérie.”

“Bye, Cha.”

“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” Lando exclaims as he waves his hands over her face. She glances up at him, his loud voice pulling her from one of the last memories with Charles. “Whatcha’ thinking about? You zoned out after I asked if you were going.” He asks with a laugh.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy.” Y/n nervously laughs, glancing at the white and gold invitation in her hand. “I mean, Charles is one of my closest friends. It’d be rude not to go. Of course, I’m going.” She responds a bitterness laced in her tone that the Brit fortunately didn’t notice.

“I think a lot of the others will go too! It’ll be so fun! I can’t believe it.” Lando seemed excited to see Charles finally engaged. Very much the opposite to Y/n who kept her eyes to the ground with a feeling of remorse filling her mind.

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Y/n didn't know what she was doing as Lando parked his McLaren at the venue for the celebration. She felt sick as she clutched on the black Chanel Kelly bag Charles had gifted her for her birthday. Even the red mid-length Dior gown she wore was gifted by the Monegasque. All of her nice and luxurious things were gifted by him.

The sick feeling became worse as she entered the venue alongside Lando. The venue was decorated in a way that made it seem more heavenly. A large framed picture of Charles and Alexandra stood right at the entrance next to a white floral arch.

"Charles and Alexandra, the newly engaged couple. Cheers to forever!"

Lando read out loud the cursive writing underneath the picture. "Would you look at that!" He laughs, making fun of his fellow driver. He glances back at Y/n, noting her tense posture. "What's been up with you?" He asks, his tone filled with nothing but concern for his close friend. "Is it a boy?"

"It's complicated," Y/n replies, ignoring his confused stare as she makes her way past the picture. "Let's just greet Charles and Alex and then find seats."

They walked further into the venue where a couple of long decorated dining tables sat. There was a large space in the middle where Charles and Alexandra stood as guests greeted and congratulated them. Y/n visibly gulps as Lando dragged her over to the couple.

"Charles!" Lando loudly exclaims, causing the Ferrari driver to turn around with a wide smile. "Congratulations!" He continues, happily wrapping his arms around him.

Y/n makes eye contact with Alexandra who gives her a sweet smile. Y/n smiles back, ignoring the guilt she felt. "Alex, congratulations." She quietly says, "I must say, that ring is gorgeous."

"Y/n! Thank you." Alexandra replies with a smile. "That bag is beautiful. I have the purple one and I love it!"

"Can never go wrong with a Chanel Kelly, right?" Y/n says with a chuckle as Lando interrupts her to talk to Alexandra. Which meant it left Y/n to face Charles. The Monegasque's eyes widened as he recognized her red Dior dress and Chanel bag.

"Y/n, you look spectacular." He quietly says, pulling her into a hug. Y/n hated how such words made her blush and want to giggle. Her heart skipped a beat as she pulled away, now noticing how he was wearing glasses.

"Glasses? I've always loved them on you."

Charles chuckles, taking a glance at her up and down. That glance only meant one thing, that she would be underneath him after the party. She hated being at his engagement party but still felt such a need to be with him.

"I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Always."

The night dragged on and Y/n kept her gaze on Charles and Alexandra. They seemed happy. Everyone seemed happy for them. Her heart hurt knowing that Charles wasn't hers officially.

She felt the same heartbroken feeling as she watched him quickly change back into his clothes late that night. She still was naked underneath the covers, trying to catch her breath but he was rushing to get back to his fiance.

Y/n lets out a deep sigh as she watches him leave after kissing the top of her head. Water filled her eyes, laying her head against her pillow. She felt stupid for ever thinking that Charles would officially be hers. After all, she was the other woman.

[nyoomerr]

Maybe some Omega Bingge for the drabble requests if you'd like? The ficlet you did of him making the nest lives rent free in my head

i'm glad you enjoyed it! i'd honestly love to do a longer omega!bingge thing some time, i love him so much... for now, here's something that's.. kind of the opposite of the one i wrote last time.

cw for omegaverse and Gender Stuff and mentions of female genitalia on a male character!

---

Proud Immortal Demon Way had many flaws, but top of the list had been that it had been an omegaverse - one of the few tropes in literature literally made for bad porn. It was a sellout’s last resort, and a reader’s most shameful pleasure, and -

“If you hate it so much, why are you still reading it?” Shen Yuan’s sister had asked him years ago, back when Shen Yuan had still bothered to complain to her about it.

Frustratingly, Shen Yuan hadn’t had much to say in response. He had reasons, but they were - not shameful, exactly, but the thought of speaking them aloud made Shen Yuan’s gut roil.

Luo Binghe was the picture perfect image of a stallion protagonist. Women fell to his feet with hardly a breath of effort, and his stamina in bed was unheard of, and he was naturally the best looking character Shen Yuan had ever laid eyes on. 

He was also, shockingly, an omega. 

An omega, someone born with instincts that would thematically tend towards feminine behavior, someone born with the bits meant for being bred, someone - someone altogether unfit to be a stallion protagonist, really. It was a massive subversion of the genres. 

Of course, Airplane never wrote it in such an interesting way. There were some interesting character arcs back in the disciple era chapters, but once Luo Binghe fell to the Abyss, they all fell apart. 

The very mention of secondary genders all but vanished. Sex scenes were as rampant as they were vague, enforcing the idea that Luo Binghe was a perfect stallion protagonist - always on top! - without giving any details about how the hell that worked. 

Useless! A waste of a perfectly fascinating subversion of genre and gender alike! Why bother even establishing an omegaverse world if you weren’t going to use the protagonist’s secondary gender at all?!

…Or so Shen Yuan had thought, until Luo Binghe himself had fallen straight into his bedroom out of a crack in reality. Because in person, Luo Binghe as an omega is - 

Shen Yuan swallows thickly, staring up at Luo Binghe with wide eyes. Luo Binghe meets his gaze evenly, his eyes half shut with a lazy sort of pride. His body is pressed close to Shen Yuan’s but not touching, and the mere inch between the lines of their bodies somehow feels more intimate than if Luo Binghe had outright plastered himself against Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan can’t back up; his back is already against a wall. He can’t escape from the sides, either, because Luo Binghe’s arms are bracketing Shen Yuan in an honest-to-fuck kabedon, and - 

“Yuan-er,” Luo Binghe croons, jolting Shen Yuan’s attention back to him. “This Lord found your… notes.”

Shen Yuan’s mouth goes dry. “Ah… my… college notes?” He tries.

“Your notes about me,” Luo Binghe purrs. 

“O-oh,” Shen Yuan says, helplessly. He wrote… a truly horrifying number of things about Luo Binghe, before he ever thought he might meet him.

“It seems,” Luo Binghe says, leaning in so that Shen Yuan can feel his breath against his lips, “like Yuan-er has some questions.”

“Um,” Shen Yuan says, very intelligently. “Questions, uh, yeah, sure, right, like - uh, like I was wondering how you escaped the Crystal Bloodmoon Cave in chapter 347, because it just faded to black and -”

“Yuan-er doesn’t want to know how I might use an omega’s clit to fuck someone else?” Luo Binghe asks, voice low and dangerous. 

Shen Yuan’s mouth falls slack. What - what do you even say in response to that, ah!! Shen Yuan doesn’t swing that way!!

…Or, if Luo Binghe is an omega, that’s - it’s a bit different from just being a man, right? So maybe -

“I’d show you,” Luo Binghe whispers into the shell of Shen Yuan’s ear. “Anything Yuan-er wants to know about me, I’ll show you.”

Luo Binghe pulls back slightly, just enough to meet Shen Yuan’s eyes again. His expression is dark and intense and hungry.

“I’ll show you,” he says again, licking his lips, “so don’t you dare look away from me.”

Shen Yuan shudders, an electric shock running up his spine. Luo Binghe shifts, one of his arms moving away from the wall to curl around Shen Yuan’s shoulders, the claws of  his hand scratching lightly against the nape of Shen Yuan’s neck.

The touch is enough to shock some sense back into Shen Yuan.

“I’m not - I don’t have a scent gland, there!” Shen Yuan yelps, jolting away.

He doesn’t get very far. Luo Binghe’s feather-light touch turns sharp, a forceful grip on the back of Shen Yuan’s neck that keeps him in place. Luo Binghe’s other hand comes up to take Shen Yuan’s chin between his fingers, tilting it up to force eye contact.

“You don’t,” Luo Binghe agrees, his eyes glinting red. “But as Yuan-er has… so thoroughly written about, I’m an omega. I shouldn’t be scruffing anyone to begin with, regardless of what sort of scent gland they have. What difference does it make, if there’s no scent gland at all?”

Shen Yuan’s pulse is loud in his ears. He knows Luo Binghe must feel it under his hands, jumping like a startled rabbit.

“I - um, I don’t mean to imply you shouldn’t do what you want!” Shen Yuan cries. “I mean, uh - My Lord! My Lord, I - of course this lowly one wouldn’t know anything about what my Lord should be doing, so -”

“Shh,” Luo Binghe coos. “Yuan-er is right. I shouldn’t be doing this, and yet I am anyway. I always am.”

“Right,” Shen Yuan says nervously. He can feel the way his shirt is sticking to his back, wet with sweat. 

“But Yuan-er has questions,” Luo Binghe continues, his grip loosening on Shen Yuan’s neck but curling so that his claws are once more pressed into the skin there. “And I have answers. Isn’t it good of me to offer to show you?”

“Right,” Shen Yuan says again, barely thinking. Then Luo Binghe’s mouth splits into a feral grin, and his words process with Shen Yuan, and - “Wait, wait -!”

“No take backs,” Luo Binghe says, vicious and pleased, and proceeds to show Shen Yuan quite thoroughly what it means to be a stallion protagonist omega.

---

Later, staring up at his ceiling and feeling unfairly winded, Shen Yuan figures he doesn’t really have much left to lose.

“Do you want to be an alpha?” He asks the ceiling. “Er - did you? This whole time?”

Luo Binghe’s attention on Shen Yuan is as heavy and intense as if it were a physical touch; Shen Yuan knows without looking that Luo Binghe has not taken his eyes off Shen Yuan once since - 

Ahem. Since… finishing. What they had been doing.

Now, Luo Binghe reaches out to twirl a finger in Shen Yuan’s hair, round and round and round the short locks, tugging at it hard enough it’s nearly painful. 

“Being an omega was a very dangerous thing, in all three realms,” Luo Binghe hums. “It wouldn’t have been an advantage to me to act like one.”

Shen Yuan sits upright, quite suddenly feeling a bit panicked. “I - you didn’t have to - if you didn’t want to, just now -!”

Luo Binghe grabs more of Shen Yuan’s hair and pulls, tugging Shen Yuan back down into a prone position. 

“So earnest, little Yuan-er,” Luo Binghe croons, and Shen Yuan feels his face go blotchy and red. “You have no need to worry; if it’s Yuan-er, I’ll do whatever you’d like.”

“But if you want something different -”

“Then I’ll demand it,” Luo Binghe says quite simply. “I’ll do whatever you’d like, and you’ll do whatever I’d like; that’s what I deserve.”

Shen Yuan splutters a bit but ultimately fails to protest this in any meaningful way. Luo Binghe plays with Shen Yuan’s hair for another long moment.

Finally, he says: “If it’s you, I wouldn’t mind trying it the way it’s supposed to be, I think.”

Shen Yuan turns to bury his face in his pillow. What a terrible thing to say to him! What is he supposed to say in response! It’s too much, too much - Shen Yuan really can’t possibly be expected to know what the right reply is!!

“...Don’t force yourself,” he mumbles into the pillow. “It’s - like I said, I don’t have scent glands, or a secondary gender at all. There is no ‘way it’s supposed to be,’ if it’s with me.”

Luo Binghe hums. He leans onto Shen Yuan, digging his chin into Shen Yuan’s shoulder painfully. Shen Yuan doesn’t bother to push him off. 

“Good,” Luo Binghe says. “Then: whatever I want, and whatever Yuan-er wants, and nothing more.”

[kitty-tea]

Who is in control?

Link to masterlist

See warnings before proceeding because this is extremely dark

Warnings: Bullying, obsessive stalker behavior, angst, extremely dubious consent, hate sex, public sex, characters are of age, name calling, physical violence (please don’t actually get with your abusers in real life this is just fiction)

Do not read if you’re a minor or get triggered by this stuff

Draco Malfoy x reader (smut/18+ only)

Summary: Draco’s main reason for bullying you was because you were a Muggle-born. That wasn’t the only thing he wanted to do to you.

Word count: 3.9k

You felt as if your organs were about to spill out of your body as you caught the eyes of Draco Malfoy and the rest of his Slytherin gang, sauntering around the Great Hall like they owned the school. You were used to dealing with bullies even before you started attending Hogwarts, back at your Muggle school. It was as if the same types of people followed you wherever you went even though Draco was worse than any other bully from your old school. People knew you were shy and socially awkward, and they claimed that that’s the reason you were an easy target, but whenever you tried standing up for yourself, you were labeled as a trouble-maker. It was like you could never win in these situations.

When you came to Hogwarts, you were given a second chance to reinvent yourself with this new life in this new world, but unfortunately, it seemed aspects of your old life followed you here in the form of a platinum-haired boy.

It was no secret that you and Draco Malfoy hated each other’s guts. The whole school knew he loved to bully you, but what you hated even more than Draco himself was the fact that no one ever helped you.

You didn’t understand why it was Draco who specifically picked you out even though there were plenty of other Muggle-born students besides yourself. It was as if he had you reserved for himself while his friends were the ones who picked on the other students.

You looked around the Great Hall, hoping to look for an escape, but it was too late. You felt someone pulling on one of your braided strands of hair.

You let out a frustrated scream as you turned around and again met the eyes of the one person you dreaded seeing daily. You were starting to grow really sick of him. Opposite of your scowl was his malicious smile.

“What do you want?!” You got up from your seat and you shoved your hands against his chest trying to get him away from you, nearly knocking the goblet of pumpkin juice out of his hand.

“Ooh she touched me!” He yelled in mock-hurt, pointing his finger at you. Now all eyes were on you.

No matter how much you tried to go unnoticed and blend in with the crowd, Draco somehow always managed to pick you out, and turn you into a spectacle in a freak show, which you knew your kind was in the Wizarding World to Pure-blood supremacists like him.

“Leave me alone! You pulled on my hair!” You screamed back at him.

“I tripped!” Obviously what he was saying was not true and he was making no sense.

Refusing to engage with him anymore, you ignored the pairs of eyes on you as you grabbed your bag and tried shoving your way past him and his gang.

But before you could take a step past Draco, you felt a cold liquid spilling all over your shirt.

The sound of the other students laughing cut off any connection from your brain to your mouth, making you unable to yell the words that wanted to come out of you. Instead, it was just a loud gasp that echoed through your body.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Draco’s fake apology interrupted your silent, internal tantrum.

This time, you ignored his taunts that were along the lines of “Mudblood filth” and “dirtier than the floor.” You were finally able to run past the ignorant bystanders, tuning out their whispers and insults, making them all blur in your ears, just like the tears that were starting to invade your vision.

You ran until you found the nearest bathroom. You grabbed a handful of paper towels and wet them under the sink before rubbing them on the horrid stain as furiously as you could. You lost track of how long you’d been scrubbing your shirt for. Your mind was in a flurry, flashing back to all those times Draco had caused you pain and embarrassment.

As soon as your ears picked up the sound of footsteps outside the door, you ran into a random stall as fast as your feet would allow and you locked yourself in. You didn’t want to let more people see you cry.

“Did you do it, Pansy?” A bile made its way up your throat as you knew Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bullstrode (whose voice you recognized,) two of the Slytherin girls in your year were just outside.

“Of course I broke up with him. I’m done with Draco.” Pansy snorted. “I’m so sick of him being obsessed with that stupid Mudblood! I’m always having to hear him talk about that bitch!”

You didn’t need to hear your name to know they were referring to you.

“I know she’s so annoying.” Millicent said.

“Anyways,” Pansy continued. “I can’t wait until we graduate so I don’t have to see her everyday. Or worse case scenario, she doesn’t go back to where she came from, whilst she as well as her kind continue to steal more jobs from us real wizards and witches. I just hope she goes back where she came from. Bloody hell. I don’t know who I hate more now. That Hufflepuff bitch, or Draco for going on about her. It’s obvious he’s had this weird obsession with her for the longest time. That’s why he keeps touching her. I wouldn’t want to touch filth like that.”

Pansy took a deep breath before resuming her rant. “He swears it’s because he hates her so much. Honestly, I see through that bullshit. If he hates her so much, he’d do anything to not have to be in the same room as her. Don’t you think so?” She continued. You imagined that Millicent was nodding along. “Better get to class soon. Before we see that Mudblood.”

You let out a labored exhale as you heard the footsteps departing. Maybe Pansy and the rest of the Slytherins were right about you not deserving to live with the rest of wizardkind. For example, you had the instincts that made you fix your problems the “inferior” Muggle way such as trying to clean your shirt at the sink rather than reaching for your wand first.

You wiped your tears with your sleeve and left to go to the same classroom you were dreading going into.

When class was over, you should’ve known that Draco would be waiting for you outside the door. He wasn’t with his group of friends, and you were the last person to leave. With that realization that you were alone with him, the familiar feeling of dread that had been growing inside of you was about to explode, almost making you break down in another fresh batch of tears.

“What do you want from me?” You sighed, exhausted by his presence.

“I can’t hang out in the halls after classes?” Draco said, fake hurt in his voice. “Why do you always assume everything I do is about you?”

Maybe because you make it all about me? You wanted to throw back at him.

You couldn’t believe he had the audacity to ask that when all he did in your presence was torment you.

“Leave me alone.” Was all you said. Before you could turn your back to him, he grabbed your shoulder, using his strength to jerk you around so that your back was to the wall.

“I didn’t come to Hogwarts to have my time be ruined by Mudbloods like you!” After your bag slipped off your shoulder, you felt his iron grip on both of your wrists. You huffed and whimpered as you tried in vain to fight out of it. He raised your hands above your head and pressed his chest into yours, making all the air escape from your lungs.

“Let go of me! Why do you always pick on me?!” You wanted to kick him, but he already had his body weight against your thighs, immobilizing you.

You let your tears fall freely, not caring anymore about anything other than getting away from him. Through your blurry vision, you could make out that familiar sneer Draco always gave you.

“Because I can.” He answered your question. You internally recoiled as one of his hands came down, the backs of his knuckles caressing your wet cheek. “Crying already?”

“Get off of me!” You protested, your voice becoming weaker as horror set into you at the realization of the heat growing between your legs. “I… h-hate you!” Your voice had now become a full whisper, more of a last ditch attempt at convincing yourself that you were in control of your own body.

That wasn’t the case since Draco had used his superior physical strength to drag you by the wrist until you were both hidden behind the stairwell.

“Draco stop! You’re hurting me! Please!” More tears spilled down your cheeks.

“Shut up.” He finally let go of your wrist and you felt like your arm could breathe again.

That relief that came over you was replaced with something you didn’t wish to understand as Draco’s icy stare washed over your entire body.

You brought your arm to your face, hoping to shield yourself from him, and used the sleeve of your blouse to wipe away more tears.

Before you could wipe your face, Draco had grabbed your wrist again, along with the other one, and moved them to where they previously were, above your head.

With the combination of the darkened gaze you felt over your body and the growing heat between your legs, you were unable to move or speak at this point.

You had never been this close to Draco before this other than those times he’d get on top of you and hit you, but this time, you could actually see something different in the way he looked at you. You had never seen him look at anyone that way before, not even Pansy. You couldn’t put into words how he was looking at you, as in you couldn’t say what he was thinking but rather feel his desire to do something to you that didn’t involve punching you.

He had his full body weight pressed against you between himself and the wall, and you could feel something poking your thigh. Apparently he had realized you felt his erection because he started smirking, then subtly pressing into you more.

You felt so pathetic being under his control like this, or in any way, but this was all new to you, and a dark, hidden part of you had awoken inside.

You didn’t pull away as he inched his face closer and closer to yours. Then, your lips touched.

The kiss was rough, just like his methods of picking on you. He kept fighting to be let in by you until you bit him.

“You fucking bitch! You hurt me!” He screamed as he let go of the kiss, or it was rather you that let him go. Hurt? You couldn’t believe he had the audacity to come at you like that as he was your bully after all.

You only stare back at him as he touched his fingers to his lower lip. With his free hand, he had still kept you in place by gripping onto your waist.

As if he couldn’t have become more unbelievable, he started chuckling under his breath while still massaging the area you bit him. He was standing and bending over so close to you that you felt the soft stands of his hair tickling your forehead and your cheek, making you shiver.

Your heart swelled with pride at seeing him hurt after all this time. You didn’t know you could have ever been capable of getting back at him even after everything he did to you.

As Draco let his laughter die down, he slid his hand up from your waist to grip all the way up your side until he reached your neck. You saw his eyes widening as a small moan escaped you without your consent. You continued squirming, being in disbelief at the warm wetness leaking through your panties.

“You’re such a filthy little bitch aren’t you? I bet your pussy’s all wet too.” It was as if Draco knew exactly what was happening to your own body.

You attempted to clench your thighs together as he squeezed your neck harder and used his other hand to pinch your skin, right next to where the lace trim of your panties was.

The sane part of you wanted to fight him off, but the other part of you, that you didn’t want to acknowledge existed, wanted more of him. In the end, the sane part of you had lost.

You didn’t care anymore if you’d feel disgusted with yourself later. You wanted Draco to keep going. You decided to thrust your hips into his hand to try to make him move until he pulled away.

“I knew it.” He said arrogantly, as if confirming to himself about what he assumed of you earlier.

“Please, Draco.” You moaned as his thumb that that was previously on your neck wiped a stray tear off your face.

“You want this don’t you, Mudblood?” He continued smirking as he pinched the skin on your thigh for a second time, making you shriek.

He cast his gaze lower until his eyes met your black and yellow striped tie, seemingly sneering at the colors. You were still panting and squirming under his fingers as your eyes followed to where they were looking.

You didn’t notice earlier that there was a bench suspiciously, conveniently next to you.

Twirling one of the two strands of your braided hair, Draco chuckled lowly against your ear, making your stomach tighten and your breath hitch.

You didn’t need magic or a verbal command to know what he wanted you to do.

Still gripping onto the same strand of your hair, he backed away from you, giving you room to move, or rather, room for him to use your hair as a leash as he pulled you over to where the bench was.

You caught yourself with your palms just as your back was about to hit the hard stone surface. Like all the other times Draco had beaten you up, he was on top of you except this time, he made no attempt to hide his true intentions for being in this position.

Instead of the punches and scratches you were used to receiving from him, he had started grabbing one of your breasts and continued to knead it. He was still being rough with you, but he was touching you somewhere that was normally associated with pleasure, toying with your feelings of confusion.

You should’ve been disgusted and uncooperative with him, so why were you wrapping your legs around him, you questioned yourself.

“Ow!” Even through the layers of the fabric of your shirt and bra, you could still feel the force he pinched your nipple with. You couldn’t believe that someone else inflicting pain would send a rush of heat between your legs.

“Fucking shit. You like that don’t you?” You didn’t realize you were thrusting your hips upward, until you heard him cuss under his breath.

With your body eager to give into its filthy instincts, you thrust harder, his bulge sliding along the thin, damp cotton gusset of your underwear.

As if a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on you, you gasped, taking in how flushed you must’ve looked.

You hated everything about this situation. You hated how your own bully was making you feel so good, you hated how the most intimate parts of your body craved him, you hated how you were acting like the same crybaby he always taunted you for being, and more than anything in the world, you hated him.

“Get up!” Draco snarled, pulling you out of your thoughts. You lay frozen where you were, and it wasn’t until he yanked on one of your braids (which came undone thanks to him pulling hard enough to loosen the ribbon) that you fell into his arms, your hands landing on his chest.

“Are you going to be a good little Mudblood this time?” Draco demanded as he gripped your shoulders. If it wasn't for your shirt covering that area, you were sure there would’ve been scratch marks or blood coming out.

Without giving you a chance to answer, he pressed his lips to yours, and this time, you let him in. You didn’t resist, opening your mouth further. He moved his lips against yours, as if he wanted to savor your taste. You had become too intoxicated to what you were giving each other, him sucking on the nectar provided by your mouth and you, on the languid flow of skin on skin.

Like a swimmer coming up to the surface for air, his mouth let go of yours. You shivered and had the instinct to huddle your arms against your chest as his eyes coldly raked over your body.

Your relief was short-lived when Draco pushed you forward, forcing you to fall on the bench and catch yourself on your elbows. You realized your skirt did nothing to cover you, revealing your white panties to him from behind.

You made a noise that sounded like a mixture between sobbing and gasping as you felt his cock pushing against where your body wanted him the most.

“You want more, little bitch?” He whispered. You nodded, digging your nails into the bench so hard you thought you might bleed.

You cried out as he snapped the damp fabric against your pussy.

“Please, please!” You whimpered. You silently hoped he wouldn’t force you to beg for his cock, but knowing him you already predicted he’d do just that.

“Tell me,” It started as a harsh whisper against your ear. “That you’re really a dirty Mudblood slut.”

“I-I’m a dirty Mudblood slut.” You repeated without missing a beat.

“That all you’re ever good for is fucking.”

“Please Draco! All I’m ever good for is fucking!” You knew how idiotic the sentences coming out of you sounded, and it made more tears spill out of you.

It wasn’t long until he pulled down your panties to your knees on the ground. You buried your face in your arms, too ashamed to turn around to see how much he was smirking at your exposed cunt, plush and swollen with your juices coating it.

You felt something wet on your folds, which you assumed was his tongue. Draco continued to lick along your soft folds until he reached your clit.

“Fuck.” You squeaked out as his tongue moved along the bundle of nerves. With every thrust you gave him, the tip of his nose would nudge your entrance, no doubt overloading his sense of smell with your arousal.

“What was that, Mudblood?” Draco tugged at your hair, but you tried to use what little strength you had left to keep your head down, avoiding his eyes.

“Fuck you.” You whispered.

“Go on, then.” As soon as he let go of your hair, his fingers were back inside you, letting the stickiness wrap around them. That wasn’t enough for you. Your body craved more, something bigger that could fill you up.

“Please, Draco.” Your sobs were muffled by your hands over your face. “Please. I want… My cunt wants your cock so fucking bad. All I want-”

“Enough!” He pinched one of your folds, effectively shutting you up. “You don’t get to have my cock just because you want it.”

“I’m sorry!” You repeated those words over and over. “I know! I know only you get what you want. Please take me! Take my cunt!”

“And why would I do that?” It was a rhetorical question.

“Because it’s what you want from me!” He didn’t care about your own pleasure. Why should someone descended from Pureblood royalty bother with a lower life form such as a Mudblood?

Finally, your aching hole was filled with his cock. It was perfect, just the right size to stretch you out, but also be able to squeeze him.

Neither you nor Draco spoke, as the sounds of your skin slapping your wetness against his cock was the only thing heard in the otherwise empty air.

You let him control your body, with his hands gripping your hips as he plummeted into you. The upper half of his body shadowed over yours, ominously trapping you, a reminder of who was in charge, who was superior.

The pleasure started settling through your blood, overcoming what little dignity you had left. It was this that caused the sounds you tried to hold in to burst through your lips. Draco’s hand pressed over your mouth, acting as the patch to the hole.

He wasn’t doing any better with keeping himself quiet. He was much worse.

While he used the strength of his body to act as your cage to squeeze you from the outside, your cunt had become a cage itself for him, having the same effect on his cock.

You were starting to feel it. The tightening inside your stomach grew harder to ignore the more he thrust into you. You didn’t want him to stop. You wanted him to break that tension inside you.

Something inside you had snapped, making you lose control in a way not even Draco could tame. There you were, screaming in the middle of a hidden corridor, getting fucked senselessly by your bully.

Deep within your still spasming body, you felt his cock stiffening then pulsing a few times. Draco reached around your leg and started rubbing your clit, still pulsing and oversensitive from your orgasm. You were unable to stop your entire body from convulsing around him.

As if you couldn’t feel any more stuffed, hot liquid started to coat your walls in multiple bursts. You allowed him to stay inside you and fuck your cunt until he slowed down.

When he had softened inside of you, he circled his arm around your waist and pulled you down so that you were sitting on his lap.

You relaxed into his touch as his fingers brushed through your hair, untangling it from the mess he caused.

An odd, unwelcoming sense of relaxation and comfort came over you in the hands of the person who had hurt you in the past as much as he had pleasured you less than five minutes ago.

Feeling the postponed shame wash over you, you let a tear stream down your cheek. Draco couldn’t see your face, and you preferred it that way.

Grabbing your underwear from its place around your knees, you slide yourself out of him as quickly as you could put the garment on to cover yourself.

From behind you, you heard Draco zipping himself up as well as the buckle of his belt being moved into place. In your peripheral vision, you saw him pick something up off the floor, probably your ribbon before putting it in his pocket.

That sicko can keep it as some trophy. You thought, rolling your eyes.

Draco stepped closer to you, and you wanted to hide your reddened face behind your hair, but he grabbed ahold of it. You were confused and you thought he would hurt you again, but you were frozen in place. His eyes had that effect on you.

He stared at you unnervingly as he started to fix your hair, then tied it off with the ribbon, making it look just as it did this morning.

—

A/n: I’m intending for this to be a drama story more than romance/love story since there’s just mostly heavy toxic relationship type of stuff even though they’re not technically a couple in this one shot.

[beautysurvives]

On Woman Coding in Supernatural

supernatural is a show where male characters want to become the new God and seek to create a new world that is better than His, by returning to an idealized past, creating an idealized future, or maintaining an idealized present. But in their pursuit of his power, they find that they cannot create anything new, they can only destroy. The first time this happens, it is in the death of Mary Winchester and the goal to create Lucifer’s perfect vessel for the sake of ushering in the apocalypse. Azazel is searching for a woman who will give birth to Lucifer’s perfect vessel. Both Heaven and Hell play a part in engineering things so that both Sam and Dean (Michael’s perfect vessel) are born, but no one can create them out of thin air.

The last time this happens, it is in Chuck (God) attempting to reunite with Amara in order to not only destroy his world (the canon spn universe) but to also leave it behind and create a new one. He tells her that he needs their combined power to achieve the one thing he can’t do on his own — a “reboot” or “reset.” Joining with Amara looks a lot like absorbing her into himself. We can’t see her, but he assures us that she’s “with him.”

Actually, the last time this happens, it’s when we see Sam with his son Dean II, and his blurry wife in the background. Sam has created a Dean who can have a better life than either of them. A reboot. A woman’s worth in this world is not herself or her identity, but the function of her sex organs. Her ability to house and then expel new life.

In season 4, Sam believes that he must kill Lilith to prevent Lucifer from rising / the apocalypse. However, her death is actually the last step in unsealing his cage. In this scene, a blonde Lilith wears a white dress, similar to both Mary and Jess in their deaths. She is the whore to their mother and maiden.

In mythology, Lilith is Adam’s flawed first wife, and the mother of monsters. In spn, she is Lucifer’s first “creation” — an already existent human soul that he himself corrupted. The first demon. Hence, Lilith is, symbolically, both mother and child. And her death at Sam’s hand signifies his role as the unwitting killer of his own mother, and the symbolic killer of the feminine. Similarly, Ruby’s presence at his side, feeding her her own blood (as Azazel did) and encouraging him to drink the blood of others, makes her (like Azazel) a sort of wet nurse or midwife, helping Lilith to birth the apocalypse with Sam as both the symbolic father and son. The man who brings Lucifer into being through violent action, and simultaneously the son who must continue to nurse on demon blood in order to grow into Lucifer.

Though there are many different ways to describe possession in Supernatural, it is clear that Lucifer’s possession of Sam is intended not as an act of violent penetration (in contrast to the language used to describe Michael’s theoretical possession of Dean), but as a literal embodiment. Sam is not just going to be “worn” or “wielded.” He is going to become, and as a matter of fact he always has been. This is illustrated to Sam through the revelation that many of Sam’s closest friends, advisors, and allies throughout his life were, in fact, planted there by Lucifer. And, just as Lucifer plans to take his vengeance and set things right, Sam undoubtedly wishes to do the same. Sam’s ability to cage Lucifer is the one instance in which victory does not require violence from him, but the opposite. Restraint. When he is reminded of his relationship with Dean, when he realizes how badly Lucifer has hurt him and allows himself to feel that pain as if it is his own — when he goes from embodying Lucifer to caging him within himself — from being to being a vessel — he sacrifices himself, discarding any hope of a future in order to protect his brother from any further harm. The same thing that Dean tried to do for him when they were children (informed by his own mother), and the same thing that Mary in her death.

In season 5, Cas takes Claire Novak as a vessel, and tells us that she, like Jimmy, is chosen. Jimmy pleads for Cas to release Claire and take him instead, and Cas, seemingly moved despite having just been forcibly reprogrammed as punishment for his empathy, repossess Jimmy.

In season 6 Cas takes Eve’s (the mother of monsters) children — the souls in purgatory — into himself. In this same season, Dean lives with Lisa and attempts to be a parent to her son Ben. He admits that he has started to feel like Ben is really his son, even though he isn’t. In episode one of s6, Exile on Main St, anticipating ridicule about his new domestic lifestyle by his family, Dean refers to himself as a soccer mom. Samuel Campbell, their resurrected grandfather, sincerely (not tauntingly) tells Dean that he reminds him of Mary. Dean, who, as we learned in s4, is named after Mary’s mother and Samuel’s wife, Deanna. In this world, settling down is always associated with becoming feminine. A man who quits hunting to live with a woman has been symbolically castrated, losing the aspect of his masculinity that is violent and heroic — a version of masculinity that Dean simultaneously rejects and feels compelled (by duty) to return to.

In season 11 we meet Amara, who was (symbolically) caged inside Dean, and who first manifests as a baby that he saves against Sam’s recommendation — as Sam very pragmatically wishes to focus on saving as many people as possible. In doing so, Sam finds himself afflicted with the same monstrous condition that plagues the people in this town. He can only save them and himself by expelling the sickness. In this same season, Crowley, still trying to get over his previous connection with Dean, raises Amara and guides her through her childhood, feeding her demons — which are corrupted human souls. As she matures and breaks free, she seems to prefer human souls, but she is seen eating angel souls/essences/grace as well. One human who had her soul taken describes it as “being with Amara” and seems to feel mainly release and relaxation. This is the same offer she makes to Dean. Though the language and implications are of sexual and romantic union, there is a clear womb-like connotation in her proposition. To be with her is to have ones soul kept safe inside her. The apocalypse she promises to bring is not only destruction, but a return to the state of being inside the womb. The state the universe was in before she and Chuck “split apart.” A state unruined by existence, everything preserved in a state of potential being, reduced to ideas, concepts, feelings, urges. Everything unconscious and unformed — the archetypical feminine. The darkness as ignorance.

Throughout the series, a primary question is whether or not any of the hunters (or Cas or Jack) can retire from hunting and live a normal human life. This is an essential part of Sam’s character journey — can he ever “settle down” and have a family of his own? Answering this is always contingent on the presence or absence of a woman at his side. We are asked, how can he achieve this if every woman who enters his life will inevitably be killed? He does not show the same consistent desire that Dean does to raise a child until s13 when he meets Jack. And then, in the final season, Eileen is reintroduced into his life, and the question comes up again about Sam “settling down.” Resurrecting Eileen is presented as a heroic act for Sam alone to achieve. Dean’s plan was to house her in a crystal — Rowena’s soul bomb — a metaphorical womb that can be repurposed as a weapon (only if enough souls are inside, just as Amara gained strength from consuming souls, as Cas gained power by consuming souls, and Dean was made into a bomb by absorbing the souls into himself). But Sam wants her to live again, and finds an opportunity through the spell that Jack forced Rowena to make in order to bring their mother back to life. The spell that failed, because Mary’s resurrected vessel was not capable of holding a soul within it. Like Mary herself, it fails at being what Amara was, a symbolic womb for the infant soul. It is empty, and incapable of being filled. Infertile.

But Sam is able to achieve it with Eileen, through a scene that mirrors both birth and baptism. Eileen emerges naked from a tub, her soul itself transformed into flesh. Where Dean, Cas, and Amara have all been related to the soul, gaining their power from it, ingesting souls and becoming, themselves, wombs — Sam is only concerned with the physical world. He is a character of action, who constantly leaves and returns to his heroic starting point. His blood drinking arc — in contrast to Cas’s soul eating, or the soul-bomb climax of Dean’s moc arc with Amara — is the physical alternative to the soul. Demon blood is also human blood — it is like the symbolic blood of Christ, the son of God — where Dean and Cas habitually ingest the spirit. This is further symbolized by Dean’s becoming a demon in s10, fulfilling his demonic duty by carrying out soul contracts for Crowley.

But in season 15, a season all about undoing the past and returning to an idealized one — to the beginning of the show itself, when it was just about two brothers hunting monsters, without angels and without God — Sam’s ability to leave hunting and finally accept a “normal life” is put in the spotlight, directly mirroring Chuck’s desire to leave this world behind and start a better one. Concepts like normal, human, Heaven and Paradise in spn, have always been related to the feminine — impossible to achieve for characters who view themselves as soldiers, only accessible through the consensual use and death of a woman and/or sacrifice (Mary, Kelly Kline). Those who seek to create a better world — a world safe from monsters — are not allowed to enjoy that world, because they can only seek it through violence.

For Chuck, a better world can only be achieved by abandoning any attachment he has to these characters and this world — and he can only join forces with Amara on his own terms, otherwise they will be locked in a constant power struggle. He only gets what he wants when Amara loses her own remaining attachment to the world (as before, she was content to passively enjoy it even while it was destroyed before her eyes) — her trust in Dean. She loses her tie to him an episode before he loses Cas, his own reason for existing.

Amara’s willing fusion with Chuck is neither her death, nor a fusion of their identities, but a reabsorption — or, consumption. It is the loss of her identity in favor of his. The final victory of the masculine aspect of God, the final act of submission from the feminine. Not equality or balance, but the continued structural placement of the masculine as higher/holier than the feminine despite her having power he cannot access. It is her becoming an organ, a womb — internal and unseen, but giving him the power to be able to leave this world behind. It’s the strength to be able to release. A paternal strength, both of them lacking emotional attachment to what they once loved. Chuck no longer desires to put himself in this story, just as he wants to end the show, he wants the death of this character — Chuck is the weaker version of God, the one that he wants to escape. He wants to transcend this earthly state, leaving this identity behind to create a new and improved one.

So every death in this final season, including Dean’s, Cas’s, Jack’s, and Eileen’s (as well as her erasure from the narrative), like Mary’s death and Amara’s absorption, are presented as necessary sacrifices. Like Jess. The symbolic death of the motherly/feminine aspect of God, which can nurture but attaches to the point of self destruction. Dean’s death was, I think, a suicide framed as an accident — his sacrifice, in order to force Sam to leave the hunting life behind, but also to ensure that, if one was truly destined to kill the other, he would never have to be the one to do it. Dean’s death is presented to us as the only possible end to the series which can not only scrub clean the sins of the past and return Sam to an idealized state (one of potential that can be fulfilled), but also allow him, like God!Jack (the better, more powerful version of Chuck, still containing the symbolic womb Amara, like the symbolic womb of the blurry wife), to set in motion a better future. A “reboot.” This is only possible in union with the feminine — but this union cannot look like becoming or attempting to replace, embody, be contained within, or contain the feminine, as it has been implied in both Dean and Cas’s past parental / Godlike roles — it must be done through consumption or use of the female as an organ. The womb (and vagina) as tools — a means to an end, but one which does not alter or lose the male identity.

[maleyanderecafe]

You won't give it to another man, will you? ~ Anthology where your Yandere boyfriend melts you into a mess ~ (Manga)

Created by: Kyo Kitazawa(Art) / Kyo Nue(Art) / Moku Ikuba(Art) / Aya Umemoto(Art) / Uni Okino(Art)

Genre: Fantasy/Smut

This is actually an anthology series and this specific story is called Tashio Interracial Marriage, which is about a demon and a human falling in love. In theory each of these stories has a yandere in them but this one is the only one I can translate for now. It's pretty short but I do like the general idea of it and the kind of implications it has. If you like my translations, please consider tipping me: https://ko-fi.com/lunaslurp

The story starts off with a backstory about a demon that ate villagers. The villagers were able to beat and kill the demon, hanging her body, and in a last ditch effort, the demon gave birth to a child. The villagers raised this child in hopes of using her to ward off demons. Back in present day, Nozumi, the demon child is being stoned by children, and is ultimately saved by a guy named Kuchiki, who is tasked with taking care of him. When going back, he cares for Nozumi by letting her drink his blood, and seems to have been taking care of her ever since she was born. Nozumi is grateful for Kuchiki helping her always, though Kuchiki implies that humans are more demons than actual demons are. We learn that Kuchiki is also an outcast, coming from a family of firestarters. We later see a bunch of villagers looking for her, and upon seeing her and realizing how attractive she is, tries to rape her during the night. They pull off her clothes and tie her up, wanting to cut off her limbs to see if they regrow. Kuchiki is able to save Nozumi and makes her go take a bath in the river while he deals with the villagers. Kuchiki cuts off one of the villager's hands and promises that they will never leave where they are. Later on, we see Kuchiki coming back covered in blood. Nozumi cries and tries to break it off with Kuchiki as she believes that he was hurt because of her and that the two could never be together since she's a demon. Kuchiki ends up confessing to her and once Nozumi finds out that he's not hurt the two start to have sex. We see that Kuchiki is really fed up with the villagers harrassing Nozumi and how she always runs to him when she gets hurt. Seeing as he loves Nozumi, he burns down the village and asks to marry Nozumi afterwards.

Despite it being a oneshot, there's actually quite a lot of good setup for why the villagers hate her and the general theme of humans are the real demon types of things. The idea of killing the demon and raising the child to ward away demons is kind of fun in terms of those ancient villages, especially since the townsfolk really resent her because of her demon heritage. They probably could have just gone the route of raising a child that just ended up being a demon but here we see the kind of reasoning for their hatred, a sort of revenge for the demon that killed their people. Nozumi is in fact the complete opposite of her mother, being the kindest character in the story, happy to even be surviving and even attempting to separate herself from Kuchiki because she doesn't want to hurt him. Even though it would have been really cool to see Nozumi be scary and attempt to scare/eat the villagers it probably would have lessen the general idea of humans are the real demons. Of course, everyone in this village that we see is a terrible person from the children to the adults, including Kuchiki who ends up burning down the whole village near the end. It's kind of interesting seeing how terribly they treat Kuchiki and Nozumi and the kind of retribution that they get in the end, especially since they are still relying on Nozumi to ward away any other demons, which is part of the reason they raised her in the first place.

Kuchiki is the caretaker of Nozumi ever since she was born. His family much like Nozumi was shunned by the village for starting fires, so his point of view of humans (especially after seeing what they do to Nozumi) has never been great, which contrasts with Nozumi who is even thankful that she still lives. Kuchiki always puts the point that the two are more similar than different, given that they are both outsiders to the village, though for different circumstances. Of course seeing the villagers abuse Nozumi like this has led him to be very protective, feeding her his blood so that she can heal and coming to the rescue. This accumulates together after they attempt to rape Nozumi and Kuchiki kills them all in a fire, with his eyes matching Nozumi's red eyes because of the reflection of the fire in them (or I assume-it could also be that he too has become a "demon" like Nozumi). Usually in these smut type stories, they tend to be the "bad guy" since it's their vices that cause a lot of their actions (like jealousy or misinterpretation), though in this case, this is an understandable vengeance towards the village for not only shunning his family but also attempting to rape Nozumi. He is an overprotective yandere foremost, but it also looks like he is the type that is jealous, which is partially why he gets her faced covered with the talisman in the first place.

Overall, a good oneshot story that I quite enjoyed. I'm going to try to get our translator to do the other stories too since it's pretty short. If you like this story, stay tuned because there might be more of them in the future.

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Darcy and her Chiefs

Summary: Spencer somehow finds himself at a sports bar with the team. (Season 6 Spencer)

Note: this is my first Spencer fic, please be nice! I have a few other fics (one includes a famous!reader singer - inspired by Taylor Swift, and an actress inspired by Lila Archer from Season 1).

1.2k words

Wednesday 1st December, 2011

Darcy walked into the bullpen, humming along to whatever song was playing through her earphones, and replied to a text.

As soon as Spencer heard the hunting, he pulled his attention away from his paperwork to look at Darcy. It was well known throughout the BAU how deeply Spencer cared for the Missouri born girl. Morgan teased him relentlessly about his crush on Darcy.

"Morning, pretty girl," Morgan greeted, leaning back in his rolling chair.

Darcy pulled her earphones out. "Morning Morgan. Morning, Spence," reaching into her bag, she pulled out a slightly crinkled brown paper bag and set it on Spencer's desk. "I know for a fact you haven't had any breakfast."

Spencer smiles up at Darcy. Truthfully, since the first time she brought him breakfast, Spencer purposefully waited until he got to the BAU so he could have breakfast with her. Sat in the brown bag was an English muffin with sausage, bacon, and a fried egg. Darcy never gave Spencer anything with dairy.

"Thank you, Darcy. You know there is a statistical relationship between a person's character, lifestyle, and social class to how they eat their eggs?" Spencer commented.

Unlike the rest of the team, who always tried to get Spencer to stop his rambles, Darcy encouraged them. She always felt like she learned something new from the Vegas born genius. "Yeah, and what's that?"

"People who love scrambled eggs are more guarded, whereas people who ear omelettes are self-disciplined. Those who have boiled eggs are more likely to be disorganised, and people who have fried eggs have a high-sex drive," Spencer's face flushed slightly at the mention of a high-sex drive.

Darcy lifted her own breakfast sandwich. "What about poached eggs?"

He smiles at her. "Outgoing and likely to have happy dispositions."

"Good to know something is right," Darcy smiles back.

"We've got a case!" Hotch called. "Round table."

Darcy, with her sandwich hanging between her teeth, hurried after Emily.

Trailing behind her was Derek and Spencer. "What egg have you got?" He asks with a smirk, seeing the crispy edges of a fried egg hanging out of Spencer's sandwich.

"Shut up, Morgan."

The team found themselves heading to Nebraska. They had gone over the details of the case and had been given tasks to do once they landed. Spencer and Darcy were sat in a pair of chairs, going over the case together, when the chair opposite Darcy became occupied.

"How is the old Redwood Forest?" Derek asked her. Darcy was a very proud Chiefs girl, having rooted for them alongside her dad since she was a child. From the time Darcy was born in 1983, she saw the Chiefs win the division championship 5 times. And not once have they won a Super Bowl in her lifetime.

"They're doing okay, I know we've got more losses than wins, but you can't win everything, and that's okay," Darcy replies, setting her case file on the table. "How about The Monsters of the Midway?"

The Chicago Bears were on a pretty decent standing, having more wins than losses under their belt. Two years after his father was shot, Derek got to see the Bears win the Super Bowl. And that was the only time they have ever won it...

"Not too bad, pretty girl. Either way, especially because we see you at Soldier Field this weekend."

"Indeed we do."

Football. Darcy and Morgan were talking about football, Spencer thinks to himself. He remembers the few times before his father left when he tried to get Spencer involved in the sport.

"Want to wager a bet?" Morgan asked, leaning on the table, a growing smirk on his face.

Darcy leans back into her chair. "How much are you willing to bet?" She asks, crossing her arms.

"20 bucks, the Bears win."

"That confident are you?" Darcy questions, tilting her head towards Spencer slightly, so much so the genius could smell her strawberry shampoo.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You not confident in your precious Chiefs?"

"No, I'm confident in them. I'm just thinking more along the lines of paperwork..."

"How long?"

"Two weeks' worth."

Spencer raised his eyebrows. Darcy hates paperwork. There is nothing she hates more than paperwork.

"Alright then, you've got yourself a bet," they shook on it, with Spencer as their witness. This bet would be seen on Sunday night.

Sunday 4th December, 2011

Without him even realising, Spencer found himself at the end of the case, squished between Darcy and Hotch in a sports bar in Nebraska, as the former and Morgan watched the Chicago Bears vs. Kansas City Chiefs play in Soldier Field.

It was the end of the second quarter, seeing the Chiefs lead the Bears 7 to 3.

"Spence?" Darcy called, shuffling closer to the boy genius. He turned his head to look at her, which wasn't that hard. "Why did they split Kansas City?"

"They didn't," he replies. "Both Kansas City, Missouri, and Kansas City, Kansas, started independently. But it was the one in Missouri that was founded first. That was founded in 1850, whereas the one in Kansas was found in 1872."

As Spencer rattled off facts about both Kansas Cities, Darcy's home state, and the Mississippi River, Darcy looked at him, taking all the information in as she stared at him so sweetly.

If there was anyone more obvious about their feelings, it was Darcy's for Spencer. She adored the doctor, practically from the moment she met him as he rattled off facts about the origin of the heart shape which was patterned on the edge of her socks.

By the end of the game, the Chiefs won 10 to 3, and Morgan owed Darcy two weeks of paperwork.

She danced happily in her seat. "I will always back my Chiefs. Win or lose. You know, a wise person once said to me, "You can only appreciate the highest of highs if you experience the lowest of lows," and they're not wrong."

Derek looks at Darcy. "Did pretty boy say that?" He asks, pointing at Spencer.

"Sadly no, my dad did," she smiles, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone, smiling brighter at the background. An old picture from either the late 80s or early 90s, of a young Darcy sat on the shoulder of who Spencer presumed was her father, her hair an absolute mess, a carnival scene behind them, with wide grins on their faces. "The smartest man I ever met. Then I met Spencer."

Spencer's face flushed under the lights of the bar, and Derek smirked as Darcy's phone rang. "Speaking of my old man," she joked. "I'm going to answer this outside," she told the pair, pressing a fleeting kiss to Spencer's cheek and making her way out of the bar, pressing her hand to Derek's shoulder as she passed.

Spencer's eyes were like dinner plates, wide and white.

"My man!" Derek smiled, moving to where Darcy had been sitting, and patted Spencer on the shoulder. "Are you ever going to tell her you love her?"

Spencer's eyes bounced from Morgan to where Darcy was on the phone outside the bar, she made sure to stand by the window, so the team could see her. She was talking happily, gesturing with one hand, as the other held her phone to her ear.

"Maybe when we get back."

[theyanderespecialist]

Grell's Trans Man (Headcanons/Scenario) Yandere Grell X Trans Man Reader (Black Butler)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another chapter! This one is with Grell (Who is a trans woman in canon!) and she is yandere for you her trans man! Headcanons and Scenario! Let's do this! But first Disclaimer! 

(Disclaimer: Grell In Canon is a trans woman! Black Butler takes place in the past before surgery for bottom surgery was a thing! So Even though Grell and Reader do not have bodies that would match up with their true gender, they are still trans. Trans women are Women and Trans Men Are Men! Trans Rights Are Human Rights!

Disclaimer: Grell is not yandere in canon, but once again she IS A trans woman in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!)  

Please enjoy this chapter here, all of my sexy muffins!] 

-Yandere Headcanons With Yandere Grell X Trans Man (AFAB/FTM) Reader From Back Butler- 

.Grell is a man-loving woman and she is a bit boy-crazy. 

.You were socially transitioned, so you used a specially made and modified corset to bind your chest. 

.You also cut your hair to a shorter look and wear male clothing. 

.She falls obsessed with you, more than anyone else. 

.She was shocked that she realized you were like her but the opposite. 

.That you were born female or were a man. 

.She feels like you understand her in a way that no other person has. 

.She feels safe with you and she adores you. 

.She expresses how sexy you are and how she finds you to be so manly. 

.She is always making you feel like the man you are and always is comforting you when you need it. 

.Like when you are going through your period. 

.She is supportive of you and lets you hold onto her when the cramps are so strong. 

.She also lets you be the man in the relationship and loves when you are the gentleman opening the door for her. 

.And calling her, your lady~ 

.She adores you and is very protective of you and can become very jealous. 

.She hated when women would throw themselves at you, what harlots they were thinking that they had a chance with you. 

.She would have sex with you in many ways. With mainly you doing the bottoming from the top. Your guy's sex life is very unique in that you take control and be the one on top. But her cock would be inside your pussy. Still, you are the one to take control even though it is different parts for you guys. 

.She would not let you become pregnant, helping you make sure that you guys do not have sex when you are in your fertile time. 

.Also sometimes if she can find a way for you to have something to fuck her with. She would love you fully topping her~ 

.If people misgender you, she would not like it once, she would even kill humans with her death scythe, even though she is not supposed to. 

.No one insults her man. 

.She hopes that one day she could marry you and make you her husband, she imagines in a perfect world you would be her husband and she your wife. 

.So that is why her being your bride is one of her biggest dreams. 

.She would deal with rivals by scaring them off and killing them is she has to. 

.She would be the type of yandere that loves to shower you with affection and to make you feel so good. 

.She will help you feel like the man and for you to ravage her~ 

.She adores kissing you, like kissing you is even better than sex as it is so very intimate! 

.She can be a bit of a clingy yandere as well, she would not want to let you go and would love to snuggle in your big strong arms~ 

.She would confess to you with a well-written love letter where she expresses her love for you and shows you just how much she loves and adores you. 

.If you accept her love she is over the moon and cannot help but spin around and squeal with how happy she is. 

.If you did not accept her love she would be heartbroken and have her heart beak. 

.But she is not going to give up, she is the type of yandere that no matter how turned down she is not going to give up. 

.She will continue to love and adore you and show you were love to her final days! 

(Grell) (Her Super Touchy, Clingy, Obsessive Love~) 

(No One's POV) 

She loved you, loved you more than anyone else. She fell for you the moment she met you. She did not even know that you were born female. It did not matter to her, you were still the most stunning, handsome man to her. You are HER Stunning, handsome man! 

"(Name)!" She cries out when she sees you, she was on a job and was happy to see you, her stunning man. 

"Grell!" You cry out and smile at your girlfriend as she jumps down and pulls you into her arms. 

Her hands had even made a small grab at your ass~ She loved your tight ass~ 

"I am so glad to see you, you look even more handsome than usual~" She compliments you~  "Oh, thank you, and you look even more beautiful, my sweet lady~," You tell her and she blushes.  "Oh you are a sly sweet little devil~" She says. "So what are you doing out here?" She asks you. 

"Oh, my father wants me to meet ...someone." You say and look away, your father wanted you to meet a man, to have a suitor and a husband to stop all this silly gender nonsense, his words. 

"Oh, who is it?" She asks feeling a bit jealous as you seem to be keeping a little of info out from her. 

You sigh and look at her. "Grell, my father wants me to see Count Viktor. For a possible husband." You tell her making a face. 

Grell's face darkens. "Where is this man." She says. 

"Grell it does not matter who he is, I shall not accept his advances." You try to tell her but she grabs your chin. 

"You are my man, my future husband, and I will not let some man steal you from me. Now my sweet (Name). Tell me where he is." She orders you.  "Alright, he is down at the tea shop." You tell her and she nods your head kissing you deeply.  "I will deal with him, here go to the tailor and get a suit on me." She tells you, she was forgetting her mission and was going to make sure this man stayed away from you. 

You belonged to her, you were her future husband and she would not let any man, woman, or child have you. You are hers, and only hers. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[oskea93]

✦ It Had to be You: One ✦

John "Bucky" Egan x OC Gale "Buck Cleven x OC

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not associated with the real people mentioned from the show. This is simply based on the portrayals of the actors playing these characters. Warning for this chapter: Cursing, mentions of sex, depression, rage anger.

● If you would like to be tagged, just comment below ●

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Black had become a staple in my wardrobe.

I used to despise the dark color – opting for more cheerful tones or floral patterns. I didn’t want to walk around looking like a depressive cloud – someone in constant mourning. I didn’t even own a black dress until I got the news – my mother making the journey to the store to buy one. I couldn’t bear to leave the house – not wanting the sympathetic glances of those in town that had learned the news. I can’t even begin to tell you how many letters I had received, those that knew Gale and even from those that didn’t. Each letter praised his heroic actions – thanking him in black ink for his level of service and dedication to the United States. Even received one from President Truman and the men of Washington D.C.

I used to look at women who had received the devastating news with such sorrow and sadness. Wonder how they would survive without their men - their source of comfort and love. I was certain that it would be very difficult to do so – have to learn to fend for yourself and go on without the man you loved. I didn’t realize that I would be in the same boat years later. I was a simple housewife – barely of age when we married. Gale and I were just two kids – two kids that were madly and deeply in love with each other. I had grown up more privileged than Gale or those that we knew. I didn’t know how to clean a house properly or cook a hearty meal that would fill the bellies of my husband and future children. I’ve always had someone do those things for me – my mother more focused on raising a proper lady. If you needed to know which fork went where, I was the girl to ask, but I couldn’t tell you anything domestic. I wanted to be able to learn all those things while he was away – making sure that when he returned home for good, I would be able to care for him like a wife should.

I had met Gale at a dance the local hall was putting on – a sendoff to some of the troops that lived in the area. He had just enlisted– saying that he was a week away from going to boot camp. He was cool as a cucumber – no evidence of fear etched on his beautiful face. He spoke of wanting to fight the good fight – getting up in the air and showing Germany the trouble they were in for. He was a born fighter – a genius when it came to life. We spent most of the night as close as two people could be while sitting upright- both speaking of our life and our dreams. Not to sound cliché but I was smitten as soon as I saw him. His blonde hair was slightly disheveled – his wool trousers fitting his frame nicely. His smile could light up a room – that deep voice causing my insides to quiver with a need that only he could give me.

I longed for him during those weeks he was away – smiling as I read his letters that would come bi-weekly. I could hear his voice as I read the words on paper – the excitement of finally flying and the annoyance he felt towards his roommate. The one true constant that popped up on each letter was the mention of his co-captain. His name was John Egan – Bucky – the nickname he had been given. Gale spoke highly of the man – praising him and saying that he couldn’t wait for us to meet. Gale was soft spoken – a bit reserved – he wasn’t into sports or gambling. He liked to sit outside the house and just listen to the sounds of nature. John Egan was the opposite that Gale needed in his life. He helped Gale open up and Gale helped John stay out of trouble...

Gale finally returned to me after weeks away – our reunion being one spent giving ourselves to one another. We were both virgins but the time away from one another ignited a feeling in both of us that we couldn’t suppress. He asked me to marry him a month after his return – wanting to get married sooner rather than later seeing as the war was ramping up. John Egan stood by Gale’s side as we exchanged vowels – his blue eyes shining bright as he watched us become husband and wife. He was the life of the party at our reception – singing along with the band as those around us danced to the music. I could see why Gale adored him so, but I was still weary.

That feeling came to a head when John convinced Gale that it was time for him to head over to England and join the ranks. He wrote to him about the fun he was having and all the missions they were accomplishing. He made it sound like a thrill ride – something that didn’t involve the chance of dying at any moment. Gale and I spent our last night together – wrapped up in each other – exploring and branding kisses into skin – almost as if we were creating a permanent road map to remember one another. It was the most sensual night we’ve had – that we would ever have.

The movie reel played on repeat in my head as I could still feel his lips on mine as he kissed me goodbye. Tears in both of our eyes as the sound of the car’s engine faded into the distance.

“I’m coming back to you – hell or high water – I will be back.”

He kept waving until his car was out of sight – my knees buckling – my body falling into grass below. A part of my heart left that Spring Day…  

I received his first official letter a couple weeks later – screaming out in joy as I read his chicken scratch penmanship. He spoke of the area they were located – how it felt flying in – the fresh air that surrounded the base. He gushed about the new friends he had made –describing them as if he had known them for years. The most important was how much he missed and loved me – repeating the same words as above – hell or high water.

No letter from Gale would be complete without a mention of John Egan. Gale wrote of how John had taken him under his wing, but also being John’s protector. He wrote of how he’s stopped him from getting into several scuffles with the British soldiers or the townspeople. His writings detailing how much they truly cared for one another – they were like brothers.

As time progressed, his writings became darker – tragic even. He detailed his first mission in graphic detail – expressing his feelings and the slight betrayal that he felt towards Egan. He watched men he had befriended either die in the air in a fiery explosion or pass as they laid on the stretcher in the makeshift hospital on the base. He never wrote of his fear that I’m sure he had – choosing to stay strong and do everything he could for his squadron. He was the main pilot – he had the lives of nine other men to think about – he wanted them to be able to return home safely even if that meant he was the sacrificial lamb...

The last letter that would arrive on time came through the mail on October 10th, 1943. It was shorter than normal, Gale explaining that he was moments away from an important mission. He must’ve written “I love you” about a dozen times before signing off – xo following his name. I had learned about a week later that his plane had went down somewhere outside of Germany. The news articles praised their efforts – telling of how they put a damper into the German’s artillery. That was all well and good, but my husband was missing – the base having no record of his whereabouts or if he was still alive.

Months passed before a battered letter was placed inside the mail slot. The enveloped looked as if it had gone through hell, but Gale’s handwriting could be seen through the grime. He had been placed in a camp for captured soldiers. Many of the men that he had met at the base were there as well. He hadn’t been injured – keeping quiet and under the radar of the German soldiers. I fell to the floor after reading that letter – my heart shattering at the thoughts of what might happen. Tears fell on the paper as I replied – simply begging him to come back to me…

“Sweetheart?” I looked up from the mattress as my mother entered the room. “It’s nearing one in the afternoon, darling.” She threw open the curtains – the bright sunlight beaming into the once darkened room. “You need to get yourself together and get dressed.”

My mother had never seen me in such a state – not even recognizing the person I had become. Long gone was the smile and laughter – replaced by tears and screams of anger. I was angry at everyone – my parents, my friends, God.

Oh, I was especially mad at God.

Countless times I would ask why Gale – why was it his turn to be taken? Was he needed for greater things? Why wasn’t I granted more time with him? Just why?

Growing up in the church, it was frowned upon to ask why for anything, more so for why God chose those that he did.  You never asked why – you just learned to accept the outcome. I was long past that – I wanted an answer – I demanded a Goddamn answer.

Sighing, I slowly moved to a sitting position as she laid the black dress and heels next to me. My eyes boring holes into the clothing – hoping that with another energy they would magically combust into flames, burning me alive with them. “I’ll do your hair when you get out of the bath.”

Our eyes connected, “I’m not taking a bath.”

Mother let out an exhausted sigh as her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. I watched as she walked to the window, her upper body jerking slightly as she wiped away the tears that started to fall. She never liked anyone to see her cry.

I started to speak, stopping before the first syllable could come out. I wanted to tell her not to cry but I didn’t have that right. She loved Gale too – she had been smitten by him from the get-go. We all held out hope that he would return to us – just not in a flag draped pine box.

A soft knock on the bedroom door caught both of our attention as my dad entered the room. His once bright face was downcast as he took in my appearance. “The car will be here soon, darling.” His voice soft as he exchanged glances with my mother.

The reality that I was an hour away from burying my only love hadn’t set in yet – just fog – fog that felt like it would never lift to clear skies. I fisted the black material, stepping over the kitten heels as I trudged towards the bathroom. The figure in the mirror was a stranger – someone who’s been through more things than a human is supposed to. Dark circles and pale skin stared back at me – my hair in a tangled mess – not even a comb could get through at this point. Gaunt would be the best word to describe this version of Carolina. I hadn’t bathed in several days – to numb to even remove myself from the bed at times. I barely made it to the bathroom to relieve myself, almost just wanting to go on myself so I wouldn’t have to get up.

Looking around, I noticed everything laid out by my mother. Toothbrush, toothpaste, the expensive makeup that I had collected over the years sitting on the vanity. I was supposed to look put together – still grieving – but have the attributes of a Hollywood starlet.

A guttural scream roared through my body as the vanity contents crashed to the floor – the glass bottles of perfume shattering as the liquid splashed in the air. I could feel the glass stabbing into my bare feet, the blood mixing with the perfume on the floor. I didn’t even register that my father had burst into the room until his arm wrapped around my waist, my back hitting his tailored chest. I thrashed against his hold like a wild animal trapped in a cage.

“Carolina, please!” My mother bawled as she took in my state. “Please, darling calm down before you hurt yourself!”

Another voice was added to the chaos – a deeper voice than that of my father. He was dressed in a black suit – his tall figure looming over my parents. His hands replaced my father’s – his grip on my waist tight and firm. “Calm down, Lina.” His hot breath hitting my ear as the world started to spin around me. My body was running on fumes – the last of those turning into smoke as my brain finally had enough, shutting down before any more damage could be done.

[steelbluehome]

Playbill

THE LEADING MEN:

Sebastian Stan, More Than Meets the Eye in Broadway's Picnic

Back on the boards for the first time since 2007's Talk Radio, the "Captain America" and "Political Animals" star reveals the truth about the shirtless torso that everyone's talking about.

By Brandon Voss

February 03, 2013

Sebastian Stan's sex appeal has served him well in television dramas such as "Gossip Girl," "Political Animals" and "Once Upon a Time," but the Romanian-born actor's physical assets have never been so prominent as in Roundabout Theatre Company's Broadway revival of Picnic, which continues through Feb. 24 at the American Airlines Theatre. Returning to Broadway in William Inge's 1953 Pulitzer Prize-winning drama, Stan, 29, plays Hal Carter, a handsome and charismatic drifter who sends a small Midwestern town swooning. Also readying to star in "Captain America: The Winter Soldier," the eagerly anticipated sequel to the blockbuster "Captain America: The First Avenger," the Stagedoor Manor alum shares the secrets and significance of his superheroic physique.

How did Picnic come about for you? Were you actively looking for more theatre work?

Sebastian Stan: I actually met up with our director Sam Gold about two years ago — in L.A. of all places. I'd heard such great things about him. He didn't know at the time when or if it was going to happen, but we started discussing Picnic. Then I read the play and thought it was great. I love the '50s and grew up loving works from that time period and from those great playwrights. Fortunately, the timing worked out, and we were able to do the play together two years later.

Your last stage appearance was opposite Liev Schreiber in the 2007 Broadway revival of Eric Bogosian's Talk Radio, which was also your Broadway debut. Why such a long absence from the stage?

SS: I had such a blast working with Liev, Eric, and producer Jeffrey Richards — those guys are really like the founding fathers for me when it comes to theatre. Ever since then, I've been trying to find something that would work for me to come back to Broadway. A few years ago I got close to doing A View from the Bridge, but that didn't end up working out. There have been so many funny circumstances in terms of how, when, and why things have happened in my career, but when I look back at my journey the last five years, I wouldn't change a thing. I'm totally happy with how it all worked out. It's just tough to find the right vehicle with the right people — and also the time to do it.

Picnic was written and takes place in the 1950s. What makes it relevant for today's audiences?

SS: It's very hard to redo plays from that period because the times are so different now, and one of the challenges comes from the fact that plays from the time period dealt so heavily with sexual repression and the repression of women. But Picnic is also about chasing the American Dream. People came out of World War II with the idea they were going to climb to the top because this is America, where all dreams come true. A lot of those themes are still relevant today, which is why I think the play is still important.

How does your character figure into that?

SS: Hal's somebody who's grown up in this world with the idea that if you do this, dress this way, behave this way, work this way, you'll be successful and your life will be peachy. Unfortunately, that wasn't the truth. At the same time, the Beat movement is happening, so Hal's wrestling with the idea of what America's promising and also struggling with the opposite idea of being independent, free, and following his own impulses and instincts. The character represents a piece of the future that's coming.

The play's exploration of mankind's obsession with physical beauty also feels current.

SS: It's just as significant today as it was then. Inge was writing something very important about vanity and how people were perceived in terms of being quote-unquote good-looking, beautiful or pretty. In the play, there's something shameful and dirty about it. Our obsession with beauty has not changed. When we see something that turns us on, we either appreciate it or judge it. It's so primal. We still dismiss people if they're pretty; we don't care how they feel, because they should just be happy looking the way they do. That's something we were trying to say with this production — and if I may be so bold, based on some other peoples' perspectives of it, I think we've made that statement quite clear.

Yes, your impressive physique has certainly caused quite a stir among audiences, and many critics focused on it in their reviews. At what point in the process were you told that you'd have to get in peak physical condition to play this part?

SS: No one told me that at all. I've always been a healthy person, so maybe they just trusted me. No one said anything to me about going to the gym or anything like that. I don't think anyone needed to say much, because the play itself says enough, and I knew I needed to be shirtless for half the play. This also coincided with some of the physical preparation I've been doing for another project that's directly following this one.

So you were already buffing up to reprise your role as Bucky Barnes in the "Captain America: The First Avenger" sequel, "Captain America: Winter Soldier."

SS: Yeah. And it's funny, because everyone's had very different reactions to my physique. Somebody who came to see the show said to me, "Don't you think you're in too good of shape for this? No one looked like that in the 1950s." But I watched a lot of movies from that time period. Because Paul Newman had been in the original Broadway production of Picnic, I watched a lot of Paul Newman movies like "Cool Hand Luke" and "The Long, Hot Summer," where he played a homeless drifter, and he was in incredible shape — ripped, tan, and glistening. So I didn't find myself to be out of line when I was physically preparing for the role.

If someone only saw production photos or video clips, it would be easy to say that the glistening muscles and shirtless scenes in Picnic are gratuitous, but Hal's titillating physique is actually an important part of the story.

SS: It's a very important part of the story. It's a big part of the play. But the reactions have been interesting. Have you seen the documentary "Mansome" by Morgan Spurlock? It's really funny and very accurate in showing where we've arrived in terms of our expectations of a shirtless man. Because we're in the 21st century and seeing so many in top physical shape has changed our perceptions of the masculine ideal, I probably would've been criticized if I were in same shape as William Holden's Hal in the film version. People would be saying, "He isn't in good enough shape for this role."

How does your physique inform your performance?

SS: I've had projects where I've had to be shirtless for a few minutes onscreen but nothing like this, so confidence is a big part of it. I knew that the physicality of the character would inform how he moved and how he perceived himself in the world. For so many years, Hal's confidence has been built on something that's not solid. He knows that people like the way he looks, like his body, want to take pictures of him with his shirt off, but there's not much else there.

Despite his good looks, Hal is very much an outsider. Can you relate to that?

SS: I can. I was born in Romania and later lived in Vienna, Austria, for a few years, and I eventually made my way over to New York in '95. My journey of growing up, looking for a sense of belonging in different schools, different countries, definitely helps me relate to the character's wanting to fit in. That's the closest parallel between me and Hal. Maybe that's something Sam Gold knew about me and thought that I could bring to the character — I'm not quite sure, because I've never asked him.

You were only 12 when you moved to the United States. That's not exactly the most ideal age to be different.

SS: Yeah, it was an interesting time. I really didn't want to be different at all. I lost my accent — although it still comes out every once in a while — but I just wanted to be like everyone else. It took me a few years to finally realize that I should actually embrace where I come from, because it's something that sets me apart. In my head, that's sort of what Hal's trying to do too. Hal's desperately trying to be someone he thinks he should be and someone he thinks will fit it. Finally, he comes across someone, Madge, who basically says, "Listen, dude, calm down and stop trying to be someone else, because I like you for you." The peace of mind he discovers at the end of the play is that it's OK to own who you are.

Sam Gold has been lauded for pulling beautifully naturalistic performances out of his actors. How would you describe your rehearsal process with him?

SS: Sam has an incredible eye for detail, and he's really a dream come true for an actor. He's amazing because he really guides you while at the same time giving you the freedom to explore the character and find your own way in it. We look for that courage and mutual trust in our directors. The rehearsal process was very specific but also freeing at the same time, and that's tough to be both.

Your sexual chemistry with Maggie Grace, who plays Madge, seems integral to the play's success. Did Sam encourage you two to bond outside of the theatre, or did he suggest any other tricks for enhancing your onstage relationship?

SS: Though we're all great admirers of Elia Kazan, there was no "I'll tell you something in your ear, then tell her something in her ear, and here we go." [Laughs.] Hal and Madge's relationship and how it develops is an important part of the play, but Sam was very helpful in making sure that we knew exactly what the relationship was at the end of the day, so that we didn't build it up to be more than it really is. We kept it very realistic. These are two people at the very beginnings of discovering an affinity for one another. A lot of it is sexual, and it's by no means the defining romance of the century that you're going to witness in two hours. He also reminded us that it's just one of the many other relationships in the play, which is really an ensemble piece. Sam was careful to make sure that the audience sees the perspectives of all of the characters and not just those of Hal and Madge, one relationship that happens to be a catalyst for a lot of other people to think, to feel, and to look at themselves.

Speaking of other onstage relationships, it's great to see you and Ellen Burstyn together again so soon after you played her grandson last year in the miniseries "Political Animals." Is that a coincidence?

SS: Yeah, it was just one of those things. We were still shooting "Political Animals" when I mentioned to her that I was going to meet with Sam Gold again and audition for Picnic. My original intention was to ask her questions about the '50s and her own theatre experiences. A week later, she told me she was meeting meet with Sam Gold as well to discuss her playing Mrs. Potts. I said, "Wow! Well, you'll be my first phone call if this works out," and she did end up being my first phone call. I'm very grateful she's a part of this, because I've learned a lot from her this past year. I feel like I came across an angel in the world, and I've been lucky to be under her wing for a little bit.

You studied at Rutgers University's Mason Gross School of the Arts and spent a year abroad studying acting at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, but when did you first discover your passion for acting?

SS: I did some theatre, mostly musicals, at my high school, but it was probably when I attended Stagedoor Manor. I specifically remember doing the musical Sweet Charity at Stagedoor. I was playing Vittorio Vidal, which is a very funny part, and some other small roles. I couldn't really sing that well, but there were so many fun bits, and I just remember the tremendous adrenaline rush I felt from being onstage and hearing the audience enjoying it. That's when I really began to understand the cycle of cause and effect between actor and audience in the theatre. It was a great feeling, and I've always cherished that.

What did it mean to you as an actor to make your Broadway debut in Talk Radio? 

SS: It was a very special sense of accomplishment — especially for someone like me who went to theatre school and theatre camp. Stagedoor was so much about kids wanting to make it to Broadway, and you're singing songs like "Give My Regards to Broadway," "42nd Street," and all that stuff. So of course it felt nice.

What was your first Broadway show as an audience member?

SS: Hmm, good question. I feel like we went to see Cats or something at some point, but that was before we even moved over here. I can't remember.

Would you be interested in doing a Broadway musical in the future?

SS: I don't think so. I don't think I've got the stuff that Broadway musicals are made of. But there are definitely many musicals that I enjoy. Hair and Rent might be my favorites.

I don't know how much your singing voice has improved since Sweet Charity at Stagedoor Manor, but you show off some impressive dance moves in Picnic. Was learning that choreography a challenge?

SS: It was pretty easy, for the most part. Once the basics were down, it was more about having fun and then forgetting about the basics. I just thought about Elvis Presley and how he could never stop moving when the music was going. I figured that Hal had probably seen Elvis and copied him. 

You're headed to the theatre now for an evening performance. What are your pre-show rituals?

SS: I share a dressing room with Ben Rappaport — he plays Alan Seymour, Hal's best friend — so we put on some '50s music and just hang out, do some vocal exercises, and get in the groove of it. That's about it. The real switch for me always happens shortly before I enter, when I hear Ellen's voice on the recording telling everyone to turn their cell phones off. Once I hear her voice, I just look down at my feet, see that I'm standing on the ground, and I know I'll be fine.

[pridepages]

Give and Take: A Power Unbound

I finished A Power Unbound by Freya Marske. I have thoughts...

Here there be spoilers

What do we know about love?

No, seriously, I'm asking. The more stories I hear--both real and fictional--the less sure I am that we have any idea what it is we're talking about.

Because love may be patient and kind...

But it also might be dirty degrading sex and someone to argue you into submission.

Meet Jack Alston and Alan Ross: the last couple in the found family of disaster gays trying to save the magical world in Freya Marske's The Last Binding trilogy. The third volume, A Power Unbound, centers the love story of Jack and Alan amidst the final confrontation that will decide the fate of the magical world.

(I actually find the magic and politics the least interesting thing about these books, so let's stick to kinky sex and power dynamics.)

At a surface level reading, Jack and Alan are an opposites-attract trope. Jack was born to power and privilege in every sense, titled and magical, while Alan scrambles to survive in a world where he literally repels power (both figurative and literal). Rather than fall into the temptation of a beauty-and-the-beast narrative or a cinderella story, Marske has the two of them lean into their inequality.

They get off on power struggle.

These two have the kinkiest role-play I've seen in traditional publishing. Full credit to Marske for writing a romance that says: "You can have all the deviant sex you want between safe, sane, consenting adults." (A radical notion when we're reluctant to increase the perception of gay sex as 'deviant,' but seriously, fuck respectability politics!)

But the mastery of character development here is how the push-pull of their chemistry translates outside of the bedroom.

When we first meet Jack Alston in book one, he's cast in a more villainous light. He's nasty and hurtful to his ex, Edwin Courcey. It would be easy to write Jack off as simply cruel, but from his perspective, the whole dynamic translates differently.

Jack is a "mean friend." His love language is to tease, to bait, to skirmish. He grew up jabbing his way through life, all knees and elbows. But every time he tried to draw Edwin out...he only ended up pushing him away.

It couldn't be more different with fiesty Alan. "They fit in ways they shouldn’t ever have fit. Even when they fought, they fit–there was no mockery falling on soft, malleable ground…Only the knowledge that any volley would be met and thrown back, brighter and better."

Jack and Edwin were fundamentally wrong for each other, their chemistry toxic. By contrast, Alan understands the love language of insults and banter. He's strong enough to take it.

But strength and weakness are their own sort of power, and both Jack and Alan are keenly aware of it. During one of their intimate scenes, Jack cuts the moment short because he realizes they are not in a moment of mutual pleasure. "When I fuck, it's because it's what I want. Not because I'm punishing someone, or too angry to be safe." Nor will he let Alan turn their intimacy into self-harm, refusing to be "used...as a rod to make stripes on your own back."

It's a critical piece of self-awareness. Jack knows he has a responsibility to use his power with the utmost control to create mutual pleasure and do no harm.

If Jack's journey is one of learning how to share power, then Alan's arc is about learning how to accept it. "Size and strength, station and wealth. All the advantages possible," Alan marvels as he looks at Jack. "Do you know how hard it is to believe someone won’t use it against you? To put your heart into someone’s hands knowing that?"

Alan may like to play at being overpowered, but that play is a consensual illusion: he knows that at any time he can voice the safeword and end the game. When it comes to sex, he can maintain control. But you can't safeword out of falling in love with someone. "Alan had never needed to lean on anyone. It was intolerable that he now kept turning out the pockets of his soul and finding caught in their seams the desire to let someone take his weight. The desire to be held, even kissed."

It's safer to lock yourself up: to stay in control by keeping the rest of the world out. But you can't have love without putting your innermost self on the line, making yourself as vulnerable as possible.

To take of someone else, you have to give everything of yourself.

I don't think it's a binary switch. The ways and means of how we create a give-and-take change depending on the people involved. Some people need soft and gentle love. Some need bright and sunny love. And some people need to be "kissed like an argument. Alan slid his hand to the nape of Jack’s neck and argued fiercely back."

All of them are good. Because all of them have the power to give and take what we need...and what we want.

Jack can be "masterful in the bedroom" and "take your heart between my ribs and guard it like my own." Alan can be a fighter and submissive, can hold his own and still want Jack to "kiss me until you know me, and unmake me, and love me anyway."

I don't know anything about love. But I think these guys just might.

When it comes to love, you'd better give as good as you get.

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Time for another installment of my series Interview With a Writer with the talented, the wonderful @inthedayswhenlandswerefew. Thank you as always for your time and allowing this self-indulgent series to continue!

Dividers by @saradika 💜

Name: inthedayswhenlandswerefew

Story: Comet Donati

Paring: modern Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ mature themes. Sex, drugs, boy bands. Be mindful of chapter warnings.

What inspired the plot for Comet Donati?

I think it will surprise absolutely no one when I say that Comet was born out of my love for One Direction. While I’m at work (I’m a high school teacher), I’ll often put on a Spotify playlist for me and the students to listen to. I like to change it up…for a few days we’ll listen to 80s rock, and then Beyoncé Radio, and then classical music, it’s always something different. At the very end of last school year in June, I got in the mood to revisit my love of One Direction. As I was listening to and falling in love with those songs all over again—History, No Control, Heart Attack, etc.—the idea of the HOTD characters being a boy band occurred to me, first as something ludicrous but then as a weird but potentially viable fic plot.

My long-time readers know that the first specific scene I envision is always one of the last scenes of a story, and while I was listening to that One Direction playlist one afternoon I saw the very end of Comet Donati: a girl on a farm looking out a kitchen window and watching Aemond return to her after a very fraught, magical, horrible, amazing summer touring with the band together. The very first sentence I wrote in my Word Doc was the last sentence of Chapter 10.

And thus, Comet arrived on Earth! :)

So the scene that inspired the rest of Comet Donati…

It was Aemond on that damn Gold Star motorcycle, which is another astronomy reference!

Are you always aware of how your stories will end? Or have you ever balked and changed something?

I always know the ending from the very start, and I’ve never changed one. Because I start writing with the end so clearly in mind, changing it would undermine a lot of the foreshadowing, themes, and character arcs that were present throughout the story, and would honestly feel totally disorienting to me. With that said, there are occasions when unexpected details pop up (ex. in Comet, Aemond clicking so well with Stargirl’s parents wasn’t something that I foresaw or really thought about before writing Chapter 9), but generally I have it all set it stone before the first chapter is ever posted.

Can you give us some insight on your interpretation of Aemond and Aegon?

Aegon and Aemond both have a lot of trauma (clearly), but they have adapted to survive it in completely different ways. Aemond is a brooding, perfectionist, desperately insecure person who lashes out like a wounded animal when he feels wronged. Aegon is the opposite. He directs his anxiety and self-loathing inwards harming only himself, and rarely shares it with anyone else (Stargirl of course is a massive exception).

While Aemond wants to be taken seriously, Aegon dives headfirst into his lackadaisical nature and exacerbates it, largely out of spite for Viserys and to a lesser extent Alicent and Otto. He is lazy, bombastic, rootless, chaotic, an unrepentant addict…and, in perhaps his greatest act of rebellion, someone who is genuinely affectionate and nonjudgmental. Aemond is fangs and claws and storms and wreckage; Aegon has this warm, contagious glow that distracts from his profound inner darkness.

Aemond is someone who always felt uncool, unloved, and unremarkable. At home he was mostly ignored by Viserys (despite Aemond’s attempts to bond with him). Alicent, while well-intentioned, was often distracted by her own marital unhappiness, and furthermore was emotionally closer to Helaena and Daeron than Aemond. At school, he didn’t make friends or get girls in the same effortless way that Aegon or Daeron did.

Like Aegon said in Chapter 3: “I had friends. He had grudges.” But when Aemond masterminded Comet and became an international popstar, he finally got the camaraderie and recognition he always craved, and for the first time in his life felt worthy of love. Losing all of that after the accident at the Budokan was psychologically devastating for him.

When he meets Stargirl, Aemond wants her in a way that is immediate, overpowering, and completely unlike anything he’s ever experienced before…but his fear of losing her—and his lifelong, intense phobia of rejection—sabotages their relationship over and over again.

Was there anything in specific that inspired Stargirl?

Stargirl is, and I say this with nothing but love, the most Hot Mess Express reader insert that I’ve written so far. She is very smart and intuitive, a natural therapist, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t routinely make questionable decisions while touring with the band.

She’s able to help others but struggles when it comes to protecting herself. I think that’s extremely relatable. I also love psychology as a discipline. I’m definitely not a professional; I’ve taken college-level psychology courses and taught it as a high school class, but I would never consider myself to be an expert. However, my interest in psychology (and in redeeming Sigmund Freud!) certainly bled into this fic.

As far as Stargirl’s backstory… I think that unfortunately, most women have had experiences when we were made to feel ashamed, unworthy, unlovable, immoral, etc. because of something related to our sexuality. It’s incredibly frustrating to see this repeat generation after generation. Stargirl has put a lot of time and effort into reprogramming herself from her fundamentalist Christian upbringing/community, and shedding that heartbreak and cynicism as much as possible. I think she’s an inspirational character, and a manifestation of my hope for our society’s future.

How does Stargirl complement Aemond? How does this compare to her relationship with Aegon?

Therapists have to be natural optimists, I believe. They have to be able to look at someone who is struggling and see the best in them, to envision a better path forward. When Stargirl meets Aemond in Rome, she genuinely—from the very first moment—cannot fathom thinking that he is unattractive or pitiful. She thinks he is fascinating, intelligent, talented, charming, and of course fine af (and we all agree!).

Her very first act is to put him at ease by addressing his scar/blindness immediately and in a way that is lighthearted and teasing without being cruel. Aemond is used to people either ignoring the accident entirely (awkward) or outright pitying him (even worse). Stargirl does neither.

Aemond is a source of strength for Stargirl; he is protective of her in a way that can override his own paranoia and resentment (ex. when he notices that she is crying on the jet in Chapter 5 or when he banishes Shelby in Chapter 8).

They share an organic chemistry and respect for each other that—over and over again—they have to fight their way back to. Both Stargirl and Aemond want to make the world a better place, albeit in entirely different ways, and I definitely see them turning into a bit of a power couple in that respect.

Stargirl’s relationship with Aegon is easier (as his demons present differently than Aemond’s), but also isn’t something that could ever become a stable, marriage-like partnership. Stargirl doesn’t desire Aegon in that way, nor is he equipped to be in a committed relationship with anybody (not even Selena Gomez!).

Yet fundamentally—no matter how many years or miles are between them—Aegon and Stargirl feel safe with each other. Aegon knows that Stargirl can see that he’s wounded and yet loves him unconditionally anyway. Stargirl knows that Aegon would never think less of her because of her sexuality or any other choices she might make in life. I think of them as platonic soulmates, which is a little bit inaccurate because they aren’t literally platonic. But they love each other in a way that is entirely separate from if/when/how they have sex and without ownership or expectations.

In the past, you created OCs that might prickle underneath our skin but we ended up loving them. Except for fucking Shelby. What inspired her?

I’ve had a few experiences recently that got me thinking about influencer culture and social media obsession. I think we all know people who put a ton of effort into crafting an online narrative that is radically different from their real life. Shelby is someone who rode the early influencer wave to stardom and now is kind of stuck. She doesn’t know how to create authentic experiences because she’s trained herself to manufacture them for years; similarly, she doesn’t know how to nurture genuine relationships. But Shelby also doesn’t know what comes next in her life. Aemond’s accident gives her a valuable rebranding opportunity: she can shift from “early-twenties hottie” to “self-sacrificing caretaker,” eventually evolving into wife and mommy blogging content. She clings to that so fiercely because she honestly, horrifyingly does not know who she is without a label her millions of subscribers/followers agree upon. And Shelby is willing to do some pretty deplorable things to try to keep Aemond away from Stargirl.

I think my own understanding of Shelby is actually a lot more compassionate than Comet readers might suspect. I don’t feel that she has any desire to harm Aemond, and on the contrary does care for him in the way that she knows how to. She’s definitely wrong for him, and she unintentionally massacres his mental health on a daily basis. But she really, truly thinks that she’s helping him by hiding his “humiliating” disability. She is so engrained in the shallow, deceptive, trope-conforming influencer lifestyle that whoever she was before has been entirely forgotten.

Were there any other characters in your story that you enjoyed writing?

Obviously, I adore the dynamics of the whole band. It was a nice change to write Team Black characters as good guys for the first time: Luke admiring and supporting Aemond in that worshipful sort of way, Rhaena being gentle and intuitive but also increasingly brave, Baela figuring out how to harness her natural assertiveness into advocating for her own ambitions.

Cregan’s dysfunctional childhood hits home for me in a lot of ways, and I absolutely loved him coming into his own as a good father both literally and as a father figure for Comet (especially with Aemond as he prepares for his own fatherhood journey!). Poor Criston definitely needs Cregan’s help parenting this boy band of feral raccoons. Criston is TIRED! Let the man rest!

Finally, I would like to shock everyone by announcing that Jace was one of my favorite parts of writing this fic. He’s a tool, but he also has lines that he won’t cross; way down deep somewhere, he has a fundamental and irrevocable love for Comet. Jace will taunt someone until they hit him, but he rarely hits back. Jace will poke fun at Aemond, but he is also sincerely disturbed by Shelby making Aemond so miserable. Jace body shames Aegon constantly, and yet he’s the one outside the hotel room in Chapter 8 frantically asking if Aegon is okay. Additionally, Jace is really into Stargirl in a way that is completely shameless, sometimes creepy, but also randomly insightful.

There are a lot of little moments of him being concerned about Aemond/Aegon/Stargirl throughout the fic if you look for them. Like, he breaks the awkward silence for Stargirl at the Vegas buffet. Jace is only 90% evil 🥰

I’ve also never gotten to write Jace like this before and I might never get to again, but I really enjoyed it.

As a writer, I think it is safe to say we constantly daydream. How do you know what stories need to be told?

I’ll use Comet as an example. So when I first started kicking around the HOTD boy band idea while listening to One Direction songs, I fully intended to save the potential fic for when Season 2 airs next summer. There was an essence of a story, a general vibe…touring, comets, drinks, smoke…yet it wasn’t urgent or tangible. But as soon as that last scene hit me out of nowhere—Aemond returning to the farm as a better man, riding his motorcycle with displaced snow billowing out behind him—Comet Donati as a story became vivid and real and all-consuming.

As soon as I see a scene like that, I know I have to write the story, and I usually begin immediately planning out chapters that same day. Ideas and vibes flit in and out of my mind all the time, but scenes demand to be written.

Would you ever want to revisit a story for an epilogue?

I won’t say I’ll never write an epilogue, because I suppose inspiration could strike unexpectedly. However, for me, where a story ends is truly the ending. I might have vague ideas about what happens next for certain characters, but I don’t usually see scenes or hear dialogue beyond the last chapter, so trying to write an epilogue would feel forced to me. If anything, I’m usually already in the mental headspace of a new story by the time I’m finishing up the current one! With that said, it’s super heartwarming when readers ask about epilogues, because I know that means they’ve grown to love these characters and aren’t ready to say goodbye yet.

If a reader has a question about what comes next for a character, they’re always welcome to send it my way, and I’ll answer to the best of my ability. 🥰

What is next for the wonderful Miss Maggie?

So, as usual, too many things to possibly keep up with! I have a few original novel projects floating around. But… most relevant to Tumblr… I also have two (yes, TWO!!!) new House Of The Dragon fic ideas that I’m really excited about.

Just last week, one of these ideas turned into a must-write-immediately type of story when I saw the final scene while driving home from work and listening to Fall Out Boy’s second album, From Under The Cork Tree. I’ve had that album on repeat ever since!

It’s always daunting to start a new series; the time commitment is stressful, and there’s a fear of rejection as well. I remember being absolutely terrified to post the first chapter of Comet Donati because I felt like it was so different in tone from NICIY, and I worried that my readers wouldn’t connect with it. But Comet ended up working out in the long run, so I’m trying to use that lesson to talk myself out of any self-doubt.

This new series is going to be very different from Comet in both setting and tone. It’s going to be long, around 15 chapters.

And for more details, you’ll have to check back on Sunday, September 10th! :)

[r3d-f0xs-blog]

3, 4, 8, 12 for all of your Cyberpunk characters! If that's too much just Voss is OK 💖

I'm going to answer Voss and Eldarion as this will take a while. Colour coding and emoji for each one per question to make it easier to follow.

3. How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

🦊 Voss has had two steps to finding out to himself. The first was in his teens and he had an inkling he may be aspec but brushed it off because he thought that everybody had an emotional connection to feel attraction to somebody. He did find that it isn't limited to just one gender and he knows for certain it's more than one. But the aspec question never went away, he just left it as he was happy and had a few relationships so by that he couldn't be, could he? In a way, Voss was afraid to dig into it because who'd want to be in a relationship with somebody who is aspec, was his worry.

His second part came much later in his 30s where he had a significant life change and he began to question how attraction worked for him. He realised after a lot of questioning of himself and how he truly felt, that he's demisexual, demiromantic. Voss prefers to use aroace to describe himself generally but the sub-labels to better explain his experience as an aroace person.

🦄 Eldarion knew in their teens that things weren't the same for them as the others they grew up with in the Nomad clan they were born into. They couldn't relate to the meanings and things people associated with being a man or woman, it felt limiting to them and a bit silly to Eldarion that people seemed to have "rules" around gender. Eldarion knew from their reading that the singular use of they/them had been around for a long time and tried it out. It just fit and felt more like them and they knew they were non-binary.

With their sexuality, Eldarion knew around the same time about they discovered their gender and in a way the two are linked.

4. Is your oc's environment supportive about their identity? How does this impact them?

🦊 Voss; not really. His Mum hated it when he came out but kept the peace for the sake of her husband who always accepted Voss. She hated it especially when he got into a relationship with another male student at university and threw him out. Voss ended up being taken in Jackie and his mother. Later as being aroace, his friends still love and support him, what matters is that he's happy and comfortable with who he is.

🦄 Eldarion was the opposite in many regards. Their family were very supportive and even had a small celebration for them when they came out as non-binary. The most aggro they get is in their work, usually from patrons who quickly get thrown out! Some people still have hate for non-binary and trans people and while that's not very common, when Eldarion comes across them it's usually when they're drunk, angry or want to fight them.

8. Have they had struggles with their identity, be it due to internal or external reasons?

🦊 Voss definitely had over his aroaceness. When he was younger he didn't really understand why he felt differently from the others he went to school with. In his adult years he thought maybe if he had sex then he'd finally understand and for years he thought he did. Voss realised years later that it hadn't changed anything and that he experienced attraction differently and truly feels it when he has an emotional connection and bond with a person.

🦄 Eldarion sometimes does but usually because of other people who still think non-binary means you have to be androgynous looking. Eldarion certainly doesn't dress or style themselves in a masculine way all the time, but they don't always hide that they have body hair, stubble when it has grown a little, and don't change their voice to not be as deep as it is. Eldarion also didn't change their name as they love it. So to some people they're not a "real" non-binary person. Sometimes Eldarion did let this get to them but remembered that non-binary is who they are. They feel comfortable and happy.

12. Does/did your oc ever wish they could change the way they are? Why? If it's in the past, how did they get over the feeling? (this can be about internalized homo/transphobia)

🦊 Voss wished he hadn't felt pressure to fit in and came to realise he is aroace much sooner but he feels that the past wasn't bad, it was just a part of his self-discovery and feeling more secure in himself.

🦄 Eldarion doesn't feel there's anything they would want to change. They're happy to have found theirself when they were younger and had such support from their family. Without that they think they'd have probably been less secure in theirself and may even have felt really strong pressure to change.

[rocketyship]

That poll is so hard to vote for cause on one hand, it feels like Tiff would fit the best because of her incredibly unreliable narration matching Ted's while it would still be a subversion of the original because of the reason why she's unreliable(rose tinted glasses and extreme devotion to BE as opposed to the stuff Ted's got going on) and her pov on and relationship with BE would just be so fun to see explored and the horror of the situation being a subtle thing thats swept under the rug could be so cool.

But on the other, Evan would also kinda match with the original due to his open emotional distance and disconnect from the girls, AND it would bring a lot of fun, fresh stuff! Seems like Evan is the one who pays most attention to AM, and seeing what's happening there from his pov would be so interesting! He, just like Ellen if she would've narrated could bring up how things like being the only one of the opposite sex and gender in the group and (from what we know from the short story at least) only dark skinned person would like.. idk change perspectives on things?? I'd also love to find out more about him!

Oh, not to mention Naomi!! Having narration that is pretty damn reliable would make worldbuilding and exploration much easier and she's also got that disconnect due to her age and crystal clear memory, being able to see things as they are and were could be really refreshing in a ihnmaims universe and i really want to know what her whole deal is! Being born toward the end of the war must've made quite a difference to how a person would process everything, Ted's whole "I'm youngest so my experience is different because i barely had time to live as an adult before the nukes" wouldn't have shit on someone who wasn't even like... done w puberty.

Ooooh they'd all make for such fun narrators 😭 It's really too bad that writing takes so much time and effort or it would've been amazing to see all three's povs! I still don't know what to vote for or how the results are looking so far but im really looking forward to seeing what the results will lead to!

Maybe you have a character you have the most ideas for or would like to write most? Cause if so, that'd def help me choose what to vote.

Sorry for the wall of text(would you believe me if i said i wanted to write more? This is me trying to show restraint, didn't even write about the potential AM could have as a narrator), and i hope you have a good day!

Okay so first off, I love-love-love this response. You have such fun perspectives on these silly little au characters of mine and it makes me a little sad that you didn’t write anymore cause I definitely would have read it, especially what you were thinking about what an interesting narrator AM could be.

As to which character I have the most ideas for, is such a difficult thing to answer cause well I have so-so many. But I do want to put them out there for you so here they are:

Tiffany: narration wise, I imagine the stuff she says can and does come across as nonsensical and border line trigger happy, however sometimes she occasionally lets something slip that clues into her true feelings and that a part of her may indeed be aware of the gravity of the groups situation, however she shuts it down as she has severe attachment issues and cannot fathom how she could possibly survive without BE. Another thing I pictured is that she very often quotes the bible and other religious texts, as BE doesn’t present herself as machine and genuinely as a divine entity. I also have been toying with a scene similar to the one in the radio drama, where AM is talking to Ted about bumblebees and getting high r something. Where it is set up as the reverse. BE showing Tiff the horrors of what the radiation and world has come to (in a way that is seriously deceptive) and claiming that all she has to do is snap her fingers for it to return. It would definitely read as a story where there is total tonal whiplash from one scene to the next, so that is something to consider.

Evan: I have come up with so many pasts for all these survivors before they were “rescued” by BE, however one thing to note is that I don’t really think of these characters as just “genderbent versions of the originals”. Evan is one of the key examples of this, as in this au he is technically the original Ellen’s older brother, however he left home when she was around 12-13ish, as he didn’t like the life, college and job his family set out and tried to push him into. Unlike Ellen who was a successful engineer, who may have been a hopeless romantic based on the original text. Evan was and very much still is kind of a massive party animal. I picture him very punk but like the old kind of punk. Like he was the kind of guy to go motorcycling around the country (even into war-devastated bits, cause it was a thrill), he went to underground clubs and concerts, and sure as heck slept around and had no shame in it (both women and men if you are curious). He doesn’t want to get sentimental, he wants to live his life on the edge and BE doesn’t allow that. He constantly tries to upset her, get some kind of intense reaction from her. He tries to escape, he kicks and tries to tear open parts of her internal network. This man has tried to kill Gloria (Gloria kind of deserves it thou) and the only reactions he gets from BE is her finding him cute, amusing, or as if he just needs to be put in a corner to calm down for a bit. Truthfully he is someone who just wants to go back and experience life again, recognising that BE’s utopia isn’t living and refusing to buy into it.

Naomi: I won’t lie, Nimdok is so boring in the og story, and they definitely tried to do “something” with him in the game. I don’t like it, again different ramble. So like Evan, she is a different person. Like you said she has barely started puberty and because of BE neither her body or even her mind has really aged in anyway and she is horribly aware of this. Due to the war she has had her childhood taken from her, but now because of BE she shall never experience adulthood or growing up. Her memory hardly anything particularly helpful. She remembers exactly what BE did to the others when they first got brought to the compound, she has seen what goes down in the labs, she knows what pills are and aren’t sleeping pills, developing a habit where she will pretend to take one and spit it out if she is able to. As stated in the survivors master post, she knows BE’s blind spots and will often go there on her own. Not really to do anything, just kind of sit around. Further more, she and Evan have a way of communicating, number of blinks, which fingers moved when you spoke to them, that kind of stuff. Still she doesn’t want to escape, she knows she’ll die if she does, generally she acts more like a mediator in the group. As a narrator, I did have this idea for a few odd habits she has learned over the years. Example is that she constantly counting, time and routine is import to her, as she notices when something is wrong and that freaks her out. She also has this habit of just staring at the others for very long periods of time, especially Gloria. She clearly remembers seeing her on tv during her old life, and also remembers how she attacked her when Naomi attempted to mention it to Gloria.

Writing does take so much effort, especially for me, cause truthfully I’m always jumping back and forth on what I’m working on. On top of this au and the fic, I’m also in the process of finishing the final script and sketches for a different web comic I’ve been planning for a while, as well as a completely unrelated world building project that I’ve been at for two years now. Anyhow!! Tell me more please