Alpha telling omega all about his little play thing, about how easily he gets pebble to cut the snark and whimper like he’s truly desperate to have a cock in him even when he insists he’s always a top. Just that pebble is so easy to break down that it’s almost pathetic.
And omega doesn’t believe a word he says until he gets to witness it for himself. The usual feisty little thing that says he could fuck any ghoul five ways to Sunday? Sure.
Alpha just tells him to watch, to come into the chapel at a certain time if he really wants to witness it for himself.
And god imagine pebbles embarrassment when omega walks in on pebble being bent over a pew, drooling down his chin as he whines alphas name, watching him be stretched almost obscenely on alphas thick cock? God it must be a sight. Wouldn’t blame omega if he just walked in font of them to hook his finger into his mouth to see how easily it falls open, practically asking to be used
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Mo Ran is 13 years old. He is at this horrible dinner party with his not-horrible aunt and uncle, and his only-annoying cousin. People keep getting up on stage and being presented with awards, and he has to clap for all of them because it's polite. He isn't entirely sure what's being celebrated and he doesn't really care, either.
His suit is itchy, the food doesn't taste good, and he really wishes he were at home playing a video game and eating fast food slathered in chili oil.
It's too loud, and it reeks here. So many alphas trying to show off how big their dick is, and omegas trying to bolster their alpha's ego by proving what a prized mate they are. What they're expected to do. What Mo Ran will one day be expected to do.
Mo Ran wasn't paying attention to what was going on on stage until suddenly his uncle jostled him and started pointing excitedly at the next person getting an award.
Ah, being here made sense now. It was Chu Wanning. One of uncle's friends, and probably the prettiest person on earth second only to Mo Ran's late mother. He didn't know how anyone could be that pretty in real life. He's smart, and he puts too much sugar in his coffee when he thinks nobody's looking, and he's an Omega, too, just like Mo Ran.
He proves just how smart he is by immediately starting on a short lecture the moment the presenter hands him the microphone. Most of the people in the ballroom are completely silent, save for a few whispers.
Nobody seems to comprehend anything he's saying, which means they're particularly stupid because Mo Ran understands at least half of it.
When he finishes speaking and is presented with his award most of the room claps out of obligation. Xue Zhengyong and Xue Meng leap up into a standing ovation and start cheering. Even his aunt joins in, more quietly.
"That's my Yuheng! Woo!"
"LAOSHI IS THE BEST!"
"That's our boy!"
Even drowned in the bright white lights of the stage, Chu Wanning's reddening face is obvious. His expression stays mostly the same, but Mo Ran thinks he sees his eye twitch.
Everyone seems ecstatic until the alpha presenter lingers a little too long at Chu Wanning's side, talking to him.
There's an odd tension from his aunt and uncle, like a cup you filled up just past the top that stays in place only thanks to surface tension.
The tension breaks when the presenter puts a hand on the small of Chu Wanning's back.
Wang Chuqing is also an alpha, but she doesn't stink like the rest of them. Her smell is usually faint and clean and warm. Not right now. Despite the calm neutrality of her expression, her scent is angry and hot, scorching, so strong it's just shy of giving Mo Ran a headache
It only abates when Xue Zhengyong grasps her hand.
Mo Ran thinks that they share a heart, that Wang Chuqing's rage is her husband's as well, and vice versa. That's how he can tell how close she is to snapping, even though Xue Zhengyong is a beta.
The presenter smiles in a way Mo Ran is quite sure he thinks looks charming.
"Chu-xiansheng, you're doing incredible work in your field! Beautiful, intelligent, making a name for yourself. Any Alpha would be lucky to have an omega like you!"
Here we go again.
There is only a momentary pause as Chu Wanning takes the microphone from him without looking at him. Like he isn't worth it.
With the same burning cold neutrality he almost always affects, Chu Wanning says "Any Alpha would be lucky to be me."
Mo Ran is frozen even as his aunt and uncle start tidying their place settings, gathering their things in preparation to leave.
Any Alpha would be lucky to be me.
Mo Ran was not aware of the shackles around his ankles until Chu Wanning clicked a key in place to unlock them. He didn't know their weight until he realized he didn't have to carry them. They were turning him black and blue, how had nobody told him not wearing them was an option? That being the extension of someone was not compulsory?
He's only pulled out of what he might later call a religious awakening when Chu Wanning rushes past the table with bright red cheeks.
"We're leaving," he says, as close to frantic as Mo Ran has ever heard him.
Xue Zhengyong laughs triumphantly as he half-jogs behind him. "Way ahead of you, Wanning!"
Wang Chuqing makes sure he and Xue Meng are a few steps ahead of her before she joins the precession. "What do you say we stop for dinner on the way home?"
The discussion of dinner plans that follows is loud enough to drown out all the whispering, and Mo Ran's revelation renders anything he catches meaningless anyway.
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So, I just watched the final episode and I've been loud ugly crying for the past 20 minutes.
I think this is the happiest ending I could have witnessed.
Yes, Tech is actually dead but he will always be with his brothers and Omega. They will continue to honor him and he will never be forgotten. And so will we as a fandom.
The clones got rescued and even though not all made it out those who did survive have been given an opportunity to choose a life of their own.
Hunter finally got some peace and quiet. The same goes for Crosshair and Wrecker. They all were able to watch and help Omega grow up.
And oh, what an amazing person she's grown into.
Once I realized it was in fact her and I wasn't just imagining things...yeah no, the crying got worse again.
She grew up on her own terms.
She was given Hunter's bandana.
And she chose to fight for what she believes in, again.
Despite the pain and suffering, I do believe this to be a great happy ending.
May Omega fight to see another day, to return to Pabu and her brothers and maybe, she'll even reunite with an old friend. I bet Hera would love that.
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The thing about freedom is that no one tells you how hard it is.
It should be exhilarating, it should be freeing, it should be the best thing he had ever experienced.
But he found himself missing control. Concrete constraint over his acts; tasks lined, sequenced, culling the creatures of hell in clear arraignments. He did not have to reason every decision, only to deliver justice as a faithful blade. Complete confinement removes the burden of the self. The control from the council cast upon him, and it cut away the part of himself that he did not realize existed.
Perhaps he did, but non-acknowledgement is always easier than to grieve the loss of it. Plus, to deny cravings is to provide proof of perfect devotion.
So, he thought of nothing and equated kindness to killing.
And when it crashed down upon him, there was no longer a home (a prison; the sheath of a bloody sword) to return to. What reverberates inside him is not relief, but grand, grotesque grief. Over his past transgressions, over the slaughter of his superiors, over the loss of control. He knew not to seek fruitless redemption, but that did little to quell the restless regret occupying the same small space between the dips of his ribs as the looming giant of emptiness nesting in the crevice between the lungs and the skin.
And the shame. Oh God, the shame.
Somewhere below the small abstract concepts of “right”, “just”, and “fair”, it festered and spread, stretched like tendrils into veins, then capillaries. It crawled into him until he wished to shed his skin. Introspection did little to help. It fed this insistent infection abundantly until he was paralyzed – spiralling in the limitless expanse between each letter of F, R, E, E that was somehow still needle-thin enough to squeeze his lungs until breathless.
Logically, he knew he should not be ashamed for delivering one final justice, for the total liberation of all that still exists. It was the only choice he was given, and he chose what was just.
He did not regret his actions, but that did not mean he was not hurt and haunted.
So all of it does little to quell the spill of thorned vines in his veins. Shame was jagged and cruel, aggressive betrayal born from the same place that once hosted the holy Light. Between hell’s stagnant air and the sharpness of silence, it slotted firmly into the depth of his psyche, steadfast and unwavering like faith. They snagged and sliced his flesh at every movement until reality flayed apart at the edges of his mind. When he was still, he had the sensation of falling.
Was this the damnation?
To suffer in freedom in the last few hours of his life? To experience all and thrash under the terribly tangled amalgamation of emotions unfamiliar and frightening? To falter in the complex contradictions at the core of all creations and come undone by the simple brutality of it?
To see into reflections on his swords and unable to recognize the self that stared back?
How ironic, to be free from chains and miss them profusely so; to be released and realize your incapacity to function without imprisonment. Freedom is the absence of restraint, and he found himself lost within the infinite abyss.
When he looked inside of himself, he found the same chasm confined under the thin layer of skin. It swallowed him whole.
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