corsets are so uncomfortable

Omega Royalty Headcanons

-Royal Omegas are almost always placed in arranged marriages. Their mate will be chosen by their parents and the two won’t be allowed to meet each other until the wedding day

-Two weeks before the wedding the Omega and their family will travel to the kingdom that the Omega’s future mate lives in and they stay at the castle to help prepare for the ceremony

-During the two weeks the Alpha and Omega will both be assigned a Beta to keep an eye on them at all times to prevent any premature meetings

-The Alpha quickly becoming annoyed because they can smell the Omega’s scent throughout the entire castle but they aren’t allowed to track the Omega down no matter how badly their instincts want them too, and their Beta friend just laughs and enjoys the Alpha’s suffering

-A royal Omega being a bit on the scrawny side and being constantly criticized by family and other people because they don’t look at all strong enough to carry large and healthy Alpha pups, so no one will want to be arranged to them

-Male royal Omegas being forced to dress femininly and wear makeup even if they don’t particularly want to, because they need to look as delicate as possible at all times. Both male and female Omegas are forced to wear tight corsets and to keep their hair long so it can be pinned up uncomfortably but elegantly

-A royal Omega receiving only a very basic education because their parents don’t want to waste resources just for someone who will spend their life bearing heirs to another kingdom’s throne

-The Omega being married off to an Alpha who encourages them to pursue a higher education because they disagree with the older generations views on a royal Omega’s role in life

-Royal Omegas being respected by the public but often to their parents they act as nothing more than a bargaining chip to merge stronger kingdoms to their own through marriage

-A royal Omega being mated to an Alpha who allows them to cut their hair short for the first time and the Omega being ecstatic over the first taste of freedom they’ve ever had

battling against writer’s block one shitty one-shot at a time. i’m sorry i’m trash

Everything around them is eerily quiet, save for the crunching sound of their footsteps on the frosty grass. Not a single bird is singing and even the wind that had been howling not ten minutes ago has now died down. It’s as if Storybrooke is holding its breath, waiting for the next cataclysm to happen. Not that Emma can blame the woodland animals for hiding – she would rather spend time away from the cold too, if she had the luxury.

The wind bites her skin ever through the multiply layers of clothes she wears, and she stopped feeling her nose a good half hour ago, red and hitching with the cold she’ll catch before tomorrow. All she can think is going back to the apartment, press her back against the heater and burn her tongue on a hot chocolate. But that, along with everything else – a warm bath, hiding behind five blankets and a good night of sleep – will have to wait until further notice.

For now, they’re busy man-hunting the Snow Queen, because that’s what her life has become.

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