#heres a backstory to why we made that blog

[sunbedo]

Hey guys. gay rights

[kurthorton-moving]

oh twitter bookmarks, facebook saved, instagram saved, tiktok bookmarks, tumblr likes, my beloveds (i will never ever open them again)

[aeyumicore]

misty invasion - lost oasis

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot, porn with feelings, angst

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 4.5k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, spoilers AND alterations to ‘lost oasis’ (sylus’s misty invasion card), slight predator and prey, dom!sylus for the most part (though he shows vulnerability), use of Y/N, sub!reader but she teases doe, unprotected sex, cumming in coochie, against the wall sex, shower sex, hand play/kink, belly bulge, finger sucking, fingering, biting, slight angst, lots of hickeys (m! And f!receiving), allusions and predictions to sylus’s lore 

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | twitter art | xav's version | raf's version | zayne's version

━ ✧.˖ A/N: hiii second part of the misty invasion series is here <3 this time our very own birb – sylus! Next will be Xavier but I don't have a timeline for it! Could be 3 days could be a week :’) will try and keep you guys updated

Small Sylus rant, feel free to skip this and read the fic!

I have huge problems with the hypersexualization of Sylus, from the devs not from fans. I feel like the devs sometimes use him as fan service. I felt that was especially true in this card, the shower scene felt out of place and didn’t feel intimate because they’ve done far too little mc/sylus building and sylus lore. I wished the ending scene in the hammock was the cut scene, even if there was no spice. For that reason, I’ve SLIGHTLY altered the dialogue and memory, especially at the end. I added in some of my own angst, heavily influenced by predictions to Sylus’s lore I’ve seen on Twitter, especially the twitter art i linked above.

Don’t get me wrong I love Sylus. I just wish we got to see MORE of his lore and backstory, because you just KNOW it's tragic. His myth cards were nothing like the other 3 boys, and I feel like they have a lot of opportunities to help Sylus “catch up” to the other 3 LIs (could’ve done a event similar to Rafayel’s bday event, waited until they could release more main story, etc), but they haven’t utilized it well. I’m sure there’s a reason why (rushed timeline, leak threats. End of the day I understand it’s a business), but as a reader/user/fan it kinda sucks. And again, I KNOW it’s coming and it will be great. But because we haven’t seen enough yet, it makes his spicy scenes seem less intimate and more fan service-y. So I wanted to add just a sprinkle of Sylus angst and story here <3 It made me cry, I hope you guys love it as much as I loved writing it. 

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ .

There are moments in life where it really hits you.

That you’re in danger. 

Where your hair stands up on its ends and your legs itch with the need to bolt away. This felt like one of those moments. The way Sylus’s voice, throaty and deep, growled with evident hunger, his eyes watching you like a predator eyeing its prey. 

Only…this time, the goosebumps that painted your skin were from excitement, and the throbbing in your thighs was from desire and not fear. This time, the tight grip on your thighs, the imposing body against yours, holding you so possessively, only leaves you wanting more. 

Sylus’s arm is pushed against the wall behind your head, caging you in with his hard soapy body. His skin shines with water and the leftover suds of his shower, before the water had run out, leaving you with a wet and mischievous Sylus.

Your fingers languidly follow soapy suds that trail down his chest, not really actually wiping anything away. Sylus remains self-assured, smirking down at your shaking body as you touch him. You can feel goosebumps form where you touch him and it’s the only indication that the silver-haired man is close to losing it. 

His voice comes out deep and breathy, “Aren’t you going to do something about my hair?”

His smile is maddening, taunting you to touch him more. So you wrap your hands behind his shoulders, yanking him down to you. 

For a brief second, Sylus is taken aback, his lips parting with a surprised breath. But as quickly as it had come, Sylus composes himself. He lets himself be pulled to you, chuckling breathily. 

“Is that it, sweetheart?” 

Before you can respond, his arm releases the wall behind you. In an instant, his large hand is gripping the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up with one arm so that both your legs dangle off his strong arm, pressed against his hip. 

You yelp at the feeling of his large hands holding you against his wet and hard body, “What are you doing?! My clothes!” You can feel your deep red satin nightdress soaking up the sudsy water on his skin.

Sylus only laughs, sarcastic and deep, “Oh no. They’re wet. Now what?” 

You try to push him away, “Well you need to let me down first.” 

But Sylus doesn’t budge, shifting you so he can lean his free arm against the wall behind you, caging you in once more. Like a lost bird. 

“Doesn’t this mean you also need to learn how to humble yourself?” His cerise eyes are frustratingly playful, his eyebrows crinkled in amusement. 

You don’t respond, instead trailing your hand down his bare chest again. Your feather-like touch ghosts his collarbone, down to his thick pecs, that tremble deliciously under your fingers. From the strain of holding you up with one arm, or your touch alone, you’re unsure. 

You speak softly, trying to tease him into losing control, “I did, and this is what I see…” 

Your touch and suggestive words have Sylus breathing heavier. His pants come out raspily, sounding vaguely close to a moan. He nearly shivers at your touch, so absolutely enamored by the way your fingers claim him, barely able to withstand his primal urges to claim you.

His reaction fuels you with confidence, and you grin cheekily, “Oh? I guess I’ll have to be more gentle.” You let your hands explore more, stroking his down his marbled chest. 

Sylus grunts, his face turning away from you, contorted in tortured pleasure. His breath comes out in rapid desperate gasps. It’s so utterly rare for you to see Sylus in such a needy state, and you can’t help but tease him further. 

Your fingers touch his neck, enjoying the way Sylus is crumbling under your fingertips when normally it’s you coming undone for him, “How cute.” 

When your fingernail grazes his nipple, Sylus tenses up, a growl ripping from his throat.

He turns to you, squirming under your fleeting touch. “Hey,” he croaks. His voice is uncharacteristically hoarse, tense with desire.

“The soundproofing for this shower isn’t great. People might get the wrong idea if they hear us. At this rate, we could end up in a lose-lose situation.” 

But you continue, pinching his ear softly, grinning, “Tell me, who pinned you down and hit you?” 

Sylus’s smile falters. He knows you’re referring to the little boy from earlier, whom you’d been teaching how to fight against Wanderers, but he can’t help but think about the first time he’d been here at the desert oasis. Only that time, he was powerless. That time, he couldn’t protect you.

He quickly masks his brief moment of melancholy, smirking at you once more, “Oh, so class isn’t over yet.” You want to prod at his sudden shift in demeanor, but you can tell now's not the time. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Sylus holds your wrist gently, bringing your fist to his lips. His mouth pressing fleeting kisses to your knuckles, “Then can I trouble you some more…Miss?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, hoisting you back up onto his forearm, forcing you to wrap your arms around the back of his neck for balance. He carries you in one arm to the bathroom door, before he falters, hearing the patter of footsteps outside.

“On second thought, I’ll take my lesson in here.” He walks you back to the shower, shifting your legs so that they wrap around his hips. Your back is pressed against the wet wall, Sylus’s strong arms holding you in place. 

“What should you do…if a wanderer has you pinned down like this?” His voice is sultry and suggestive, darkened eyes daring you to teach him. 

You lift your chin proudly at his taunting challenge. Your fingers trace inexplicable shapes into his chest, your nails gently and purposefully grazing his nipples. At his sharp inhale you make your next move.

“I would…go for the neck, since that’s where they’re most vulnerable.”

Sylus’s adam’s apple bobs with the anticipation of your double-edged words, “Is that so, little bird?”

You nod with confidence, “Let me show you…” You kiss up his collarbone until you read his pulsing neck, brushing chaste kisses along his jugular. Sylus’s chest heaves, and you smile against his neck in satisfaction. 

“I can’t imagine this would be…effective against wanderers,” Sylus masks the unsteadiness of his wavering voice with a layer of arrogant amusement. 

Sylus’s chest heaves, and you smile against his neck in satisfaction. Enjoying having the upperhand, “No…just you.” You softly sink your teeth into the thick muscles of his neck.

Sylus lets out a string of harsh expletives, slamming you further into the wall, his grip on the underside of your thighs digging in harshly. You shiver at the feeling of the cold wet wall tiles pressing into your satin nightdress.

Sylus lets you have your way a little while longer, enjoying the way your rapid heartbeat pounds against his wet chest, your tongue lapping circles where your teeth had sunken in. His hands shift to grope your rear under your crimson red nightdress, squeezing the plush skin there as if you were his personal stress ball. His demanding fingers find their way to your bare pussy, spreading them apart with his index finger and thumb.

“What a bold hunter you are…taunting the enemy with no…protection.” 

His words are vaguely threatening and it makes you squirm. As his fingers toy with you, you sink your teeth deeper into him to hide your pathetically lewd whimpers. Sylus hisses at your teeth nearly breaking skin, a mix of pain and pleasure he is all-too familiar with.

“You’d better watch yourself, my little hunter,” Sylus coos in your ear, fingers finding your clit and pressing down harshly, “You never know what a beast stranded in the desert might do to you.”

His words remind you of the reason he’d invited you out to this desert oasis to begin with, the woman who’d found him, and why he was returning now. Before you can ask him, Sylus is bullying his index finger into you, sliding in so embarrassingly  effortlessly.

“What now, little dove? What would you do now?” Sylus nips at the crook of your neck, where your shoulder and throat meet. His words are hot and dangerous at the shell of your ear, his finger curling inside you to reach the spongy corners of your g-spot.

You force your words out with all the strength you have, not wanting to give Sylus the satisfaction of rendering you speechless, “I w-would never – nnghh – be in this s-situation.” 

Sylus chuckles, inserting another finger, “And yet…here you are. About to be devoured.”

The imminent threat in his words makes you clench, hard. How it was possible for the tables to turn this quickly, you’d never understand. Sylus grins when he feels your gummy walls pressing down on just two of his fingers, the quivers typically indicative of how close you are. 

He pushes you harder into the wall, lips finding your earlobes as he huffs out his words, “Look at you, my dear little hunter. So beautiful when you’re helpless.”

You whine indignantly at his condescending words, wanting to retaliate. With his lips at your ear, his neck is exposed before you and you take full advantage of his vulnerability. You sink your teeth back into his pulsing neck, knowing just how much pressure is enough to have him writhing for you. 

Sylus jolts, his fingers slipping out of you and his knee buckling slightly. His grip on your thighs tightening as he hisses out in surprise. He composes himself just as quickly, straightening up and bouncing you up to readjust his possessive grip on you. 

He pushes you back against the wall, his hard abdomen pressing into your pussy. You groan when you feel your wet lips spreading against his chiseled muscles, his body pressing so forcefully into yours, your arousal smearing against him.

His thumb and index finger take your chin into his grip, still wet with your slick, pulling your face towards his. His arrogant grin is as alluring as it is infuriating, his ruby eyes swirling with a dark amusement. 

“No more mercy, little bird.”

Sylus presses his lips to yours, his fingers tightening around your chin. His kiss is demanding, nearly suffocating, in a way that makes you reel with excitement and anticipation. It’s so torrid and feverish that you almost don’t notice his Evol unraveling your arms from around his neck, bringing them to his chest. He holds you steady with his one arm, and with the other he releases your chin, taking the two of your wrists into his single free hand. His hands are so large that even just one of his hands can envelope both your wrists. 

As his tongue probes the parting of your lips, he holds your wrists, bringing them up above your head and pinning them against the wall. His fingers play with your trembling ones, tracing the lines in your palm and grazing all the way up to your fingertips. 

You feel a brief shuffle and hear the faint thud of Sylus’s towel dropping to the floor, the scorching head of his cock prodding at your entrance. You gasp into his mouth when you feel him taking the base of his erection, stroking it against your clit. You screw your eyes shut at the deliriously delicious friction, moaning into Sylus’s mouth, his tongue claiming every corner of yours. 

Sylus pulls away, his breath coming out in short rapid gasps. He leans his forehead against yours, his fingers still enclosing yours, binding your wrists together against the cold shower wall. His proximity makes it so his warm breath fans across your swollen lips, the taste of him still on your tongue. 

He looks down at you, his crimson eyes smoldering against the heat he’s so desperately trying to keep at bay for you. If it were up to him, he’d have you splayed across his lap, screaming until the whole small town in the oasis could hear you. Unfortunately, pressed up against the wall whimpering for more would have to do.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

You stare at him, arms restrained above your head, chest heaving in anticipation, lips swollen and parted. Sylus smiles at you. It’s that signature Sylus smirk, heart-stoppingly tender and predatory all at once. But when his glowing cerise eyes meet yours, that’s what has your breath catching in your throat. 

The tumultuous sea of red conveyed every ounce of emotion that his words couldn’t. What it meant to have you here in the desert with him, a place that once reminded him of hell. What it meant to have you here, wrapped up in his embrace, ready to do anything to make him happy, whole. With you here, it truly did feel like an oasis. 

So you murmur boldly, cheeks warming, “M’yours, Sy. Of course I’m ready.” 

Sylus’s smile falters for a second, before he growls, slamming you back into the wall, palm cupping the back of your head with one hand, and your lower back with the other, to protect you against the impact. 

“That’s my girl.” 

With those words, his swollen cock head at your entrance finally surges forward, nudging its way into your tight embrace. You cry out as Sylus curses, the both of you never getting used to how impossibly snug the fit was, almost to the point of not fitting at all. 

Sylus takes it surprisingly slow, watching your face carefully as he sinks into you inch by inch. His hand strokes your cheek, in an overwhelming show of tender affection. Something about this desert oasis had him unusually vulnerable and it was intoxicating. 

You squirm as he bottoms out, his cockhead nestled sinfully against your cervix, practically demanding entrance into your womb. His fist is pressed into the tiled wall behind your head, his knuckles white with desperation. His entire body twitches, his breath coming out in short desperate pants. You hold his face with your hands, forcing him to level with you, stroking his sharp jaw with your fingertips.

“Sylus?”

His carmine eyes dart to yours, the vast storm of his irises looking faraway and distant. But when he looks at you, his eyes soften, the sight of you grounding him to the moment, pulling him away from the agony he once endured here. 

You kiss his furrowed eyebrow, “I’m here, Sy.” 

Sylus groans, his facial features softening at your touch, your raw words making him heave with desire. 

“You are. And you’re mine,” he growls, finally moving inside you, pulling out until just his leaking tip is nestled in your warm waiting cunt. Giving you just a second to adjust, your pussy pulsing with the need to be filled once more, he slams back into you. The impact of his thrust knocks the air from your lungs, your body sliding up the wet walls of the shower.

“Sylus!” you squeal, trying to control  your voice. Sylus grunts, reveling in the sound of your pleasure, pulling out of you and rutting back into your poor quivering cunt at a rabid vigor. 

Your bodies are pressed so tightly together, that every minute movement Sylus makes causes your clit to brush against the trail of silver hair that paints his pelvis. His hot breath is in your ear, whispering the filthiest things to you.

“You like it rough, don’t you sweetheart?” he nips your neck, savoring the taste of your clean showered skin against his insistent tongue. Your bare shoulders are already littered in his claiming marks, beautiful red bruises forming where his lips raze like wildfire. Sylus’s eyes glimmer with satisfaction at the sight of it. 

“C-can’t take it,” you whine, fingernails digging into his shoulders. His passionate thrusts are demanding, almost mean, as they try to pull moan after moan out from your lips. Your pussy quivers, already shivering from the amount of pleasure Sylus is able to force on you, so much that it spills over. 

“Yes you can, hm?”

He hisses when your nails dig further into his skin, leaving beautiful little red crescents on his muscled shoulders. Sylus always thought it was utterly insane how you knew just how much pain to mix with his pleasure to have him unhinged, just enough to want to devour you. 

You find your wrists being bound above your head again, his hand pushing them against the wall. His forehead pushes against yours as his lips desperately seek yours, capturing you in a breathtaking and fiery kiss of unspoken feelings. A torrid storm of the way he’d missed you desperately on his trip away, so much so that he had to use the little boy wanting to learn to fight wanderers as an excuse to fly you out to him. 

He pulls away, leaving you both panting for air. As he continues his feverish ruts into you, he huffs into your ear, “You can take it. You’re my good little dove, right?”

The look of complete and utter desperation in his eyes makes you want to give into every wish and whim of the silver-haired man before you. So you nod obediently, closing your eyes in satisfaction when his fingers rub soothing circling into your palms. It’s a jarring contrast, the way his hand caresses you affectionately while his cock ravages you relentlessly. It makes you delirious with ecstasy, and your body is no different.

Your cunt throbs with the need to come undone, the coil tightening so tightly that your abdomen threatens to burst. From the pleasure of his touch or from his massive cock seemingly trying to find its way into your throat, you’re unsure. 

“S-so deep,” you cry, digging your nails into his hand as it holds yours in place. Your back slides up the wall at every one of his deliberate pointed thrusts, a mere ragdoll to his ravenous hunger against the cold dripping wall.

Sylus, groans. You feel a slight shift in energy, and Sylus moving beneath you. But your position against the wall doesn’t change. Sylus’s Evol gently grips your thighs, keeping you suspended as his arm that held you up is now free to press down on your tummy. 

“I know, doll. Can you feel me all the way here?” he draws his words out seductively, pressing down on where your walls bulge against your pulsing naval. 

You squeal at the overstimulation of him physically pressing your cunt down onto his cock that still spears in and out of you wildly. Sylus removes his hand to press it against your lips, his index and middle fingers slipping into your lips that are still parted mid-scream. 

His digits press down on your tongue, faintly tasting like his expensive body wash, “Shhh, Y/N. We wouldn’t want anyone to hear, hm?”

You whine. Truth be told, the imminent danger behind his words only gets you more and more excited, closer to the edge. His forceful fingers toying with your tongue only fueled your filthy desires more, and your body reacts just as eagerly. 

Sylus bits the inside of his cheek, swearing as your tight walls convulse tightly onto him. Your pussy unknowingly constricts the thick throbbing veins that press of his erection, pressed snugly into your sweetest spots. 

“Ah, my sweet girl is so filthy. Did you like that? Like the idea of someone watching me fuck you dumb?”

His condescending words have you shaking your head, still hanging on to your slim shred of dignity. Sylus chuckles, nuzzling into your neck.

“You can’t lie to me, little bird. I can feel the truth.”

“F-feels s-ooo good,” you admit, throwing all embarrassment to the wind. Sylus swears at how adorably muffled your words are against his fingers, how your eyes are hooded with pleasure as they watch him dreamily. The adoration in your stare was so palpable, hearts nearly reflected in your eyes. His knees buckle as he admires your beautiful face, so angelically fucked out that it ruined him. 

Sylus shifts you into his single arm once more. He could easily keep you secured in the air with his Evol for hours yet, but at this moment he wants nothing more than to be as close to you as possible. He wraps one of your arms around his neck, intertwining his fingers with your other hand.

“Hold on tight, my love,” he rasps against your collar, bringing your intertwined fingers above your hand and against the wall for leverage. His thrusts take on an unprecedented intensity, the globes of your ass slapping against the wall in loud, filthy, and wet paps. His vigor makes it easy for him to hammer into your g-spot at every thrust, having you reaching the summit of your orgasm all too quickly. 

“Sy-Sylus! I-I’m so close,” you wail, fingers desperately clutching his, other hand digging into the back of his neck.

Sylus is close too, weeks of pent up emotion and need brimming to the point of boiling over. The only thing keeping him sane is the grip he has on your hand.

“Need to cum in you,” he hisses, driving into you harder as he nears his peak, “Need to breed you so full of my cum, hm?” 

You nod eagerly at his filthy words, clutching onto him for dear life, “I’m c-cum—“ 

Sylus cuts you off, smashing his lips into yours. It must’ve been a sight to behold, the way Sylus had you locked in a passionate kiss, his hand holding yours above your head, his body pushing you up against the wall, pelvis wet from your arousal as his silver hair brushes repeatedly against your clit.

It was all enough to have you finally releasing all over his defined abdomen. You squirt against his stomach, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue claims your very breath. Your climax is powerful, mind-numbing, and utterly explosive. 

Sylus huffs in pleasure as he feels your dripping thighs slapping against him, his own orgasm imminent. Your cunt continues to throb in the afterglow of your climax, wringing tightly against his violent ruts.

Finally, he climaxes inside you, moaning wildly into your mouth as he continues to devour you,  thrusting through the intense waves of pleasure. His abdomen trembles, involuntary quivers wracking his body as rope after rope of his thick seed pours into you.  

His lips pull away and he leans his forehead against yours, his entire body still quivering with waves of the intense overstimulation. His chest heaves violently with the pounding of his rapid heartbeat, his fingers still tied to yours, tracing gentle shapes in your tingling skin. 

Sylus chuckles, the sound gentle and warm and the vibrations reverberating onto your own body as he clings to you still. 

His eyes glimmer with amusement, his fingers capturing your chin again and pulling it downward to where your bodies remain connected. His voice is tender and mischievous, “It’s just like you to make such a mess when you’ve already used up all the water.”

You blush furiously when met with the image of your bodies, fit against each other together like puzzle pieces, glimmering with a wet sheen that was definitely not water. Your red satin nightdress had ridden up, the lace embroidering of the hem soaked. The argent dusting of hair on Sylus’s pelvis was matted in both your arousals. It was an absolutely sinful sight. 

“P-put me down!” you hiss, tapping his chest, “We have to find a way to clean this up.” 

Sylus raises his eyebrow at you, “Sweetheart, the only thing keeping the mess inside is my co–” 

Your hands come together to cover his mouth, “Don’t say another word.”

Sylus chuckles into your hand, his breath warm and tickling You feel a sharp, but gentle, nip.

“Hey! Don’t bite m–OW!”

—--

The night air is brisk, sounds of ancient handbells ringing out softly as the dark sky twinkles with distant stars. A nearby bonfire rages, the sound of crackling of wood mixing with the distant chime of bells. And yet, it’s Sylus’s large body holding yours that keeps you warm against the gentle night breeze of the desert. 

The hammock the two of you cuddle in swings lazily, Sylus’s fingers languidly stroking your hair as he tells you myths of the Gods and humans that once resided in this very valley. 

“What about your world? What was your life like as a kid?”

Sylus is still as his body cradles your own, his fingers crushing the blossoms that had fallen into his palm. He hesitates for a second before saying, “Nothing special. I struggled to survive.”

Your heart clenches painfully at his words. His voice is nonchalant, yet something about his words is melancholic. Eerily wistful. 

“I never imagined that one day, we’d be sitting in a place like this. Having discussions about the world,” you whisper.

You look up to catch Sylus staring at you. For a brief second, you catch the emotions in his eyes. They’re desperate, pleading with yours. For what, you’re unsure. He quickly blinks, the cerise orbs returning to their natural state.

“Do you think we’re talking about the same world?” His voice is unbearably gentle, his words confusingly cryptic, as if edged with a double meaning that you can’t quite grasp.

“I’m not sure,” you confess softly.

There’s a brief moment of silence. You continue, “Today is when people give flowers to each other in Linkon, but…”  Your voice trails off. You gently dust off the fallen petals that’d landed on his shoulder, hand reaching to brush over his heart as you pick up a branch of the delicate flowers off his abdomen.. 

“Could those flowers bloom in this kind of soil?” You ponder aloud, holding the cluster of fallen and wilting blossoms, so different from the vibrant and thriving ones you’re familiar with in Linkon.

You glance up at Sylus again. The shadows of the palm trees above you obscure one side of his face, the other half haloed by the soft glow of the moonlight. He looks threateningly ethereal. The pools of carmine in his eyes glow as they search yours. Like earlier, they glimmer with inexplicable emotions that seem to plead with yours. Begging you for…something.

But he doesn’t speak, instead taking the cluster of wilted blossoms from your fingers. He twirls them in his fingertips, inspecting them carefully. He strokes the browning petals, a strange look of nostalgia flickering across his face. 

You don’t understand, but you reach out for his hand, squeezing his fingers in yours. He squeezes you back, still looking mournfully at the flowers in his fingertips, almost as if remembering a painful memory. 

Finally, Sylus turns to you. His smile is devastatingly beautiful and tragic all at once, his finger moving to tuck the loose strands of hair behind your ear.  His piercing red eyes bore straight into your soul, the faint luminosity of his Aether core beating behind them.

“I’ve seen far more beautiful flowers bloom in this desert.”

© aeyumicore 2024.

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

This is probably small in the grand scheme of things, but how did Emilie being noble play any impact in the story at all?

I mean, I'd get it if it was just a small detail to help deepen Emilie's character, but why nobility of all things? I don't know, from what I'm seeing so far, the whole "Emilie renounced her noble title" shtick just feels worthless if it's not going to impact the story or add depth to Emilie's character (like maybe upbringing or personal values?).

I don't know. Like everything else, the noble part just feels shallow and means nothing to the story, especially for a character like Emilie, who is the plot device for the whole show. Any detail about her, like her personality and life story, is supposed to influence the story and characters one way or another, namely Hawkmoth since she's his driving force.

So what was the point?

For context, this ask is about Félix's play which says that Emilie gave up her title to be with Gabriel. I'm gonna give a slightly larger section of the transcript of the play for full context, but the relevant but is at the end of the last paragraph:

Félix: The king and queen's twins grew up, each day as different in heart as they were similar in body. The firstborn, curious and brazen, despised life at court and escaped at every opportunity. The younger daughter, well-behaved and respectful, did everything she could to please her parents, and stayed quietly in the castle. Félix: (as Mr. Graham de Vanily) Oh, my queen. Did we entrust our legacy to the right princess? Kagami: (as Mrs. Graham de Vanily) She will fall in line, eventually. Félix: Confident that she would settle down as she matured, the king and queen allowed the curious princess to leave to study beyond the sea in another kingdom. There, she immediately found true love in a humble tailor. Félix: The tailor was making clothes so magnificent that they revealed the beauty of the soul of anyone who wore them. Although it made her parents furious, the curious princess gave up her rank, her wealth and her kingdom to live a bohemian life with the tailor.

Story wise, I have no idea why any of this was added since it adds nothing to canon. It's not like this finally explains why Gabriel and Emilie are poor while Amelie is wealthy. Along similar lines, it's not like Amelie's title has ever mattered. Prior to this play, I don't think that we even knew that she had a title or that she was the younger sister. The play is all about explaining things that we never had reasons to question in the first place.

My best guess as to why the writers wrote this pointless backstory is that they wanted to make Emilie seem even more pure and perfect so they went with the tired old trope of a rich girl giving up material things for the sake of love and art because good pure women don't care about material things! Only nasty, shallow women care about money. (Way to play into sexist tropes, guys.)

There may also be cultural elements at play here given that France doesn't have the greatest history with nobility, so giving up a noble title may be seen as good and pure to a French writer, but I don't know enough about French culture to say that with any certainty. If anyone who reads this blog is French and would like to chime in, then feel free!

While we're on the topic of the play, I wanted to point out that the above quoted passage is why I say that the Graham de Vanily parents can be as kind or as abusive as you'd like to make them. It's incredibly vague and you can read into it whatever you want to read into it. Were they good loving parents who were just upset about their daughter living in poverty or were they miserable controlling classist who Emilie fled England to get away from? It's up to you because you can get both reads from this. The play commits to almost nothing of value. Politicians could take lessons from this impressive level of noncommittal writing.

A better version of the play would have focused on things that actually matter to canon like the details of finding the miraculous and/or Emilie learning she's sick, but you could only have those details if they were coming from Nathalie or Gabriel. Félix is a terrible choice for a character to tell us the show's backstory because he knows so little of it, thus the play focusing on his largely pointless backstory.

[1moreff-creator]

Extra DRDT CH2 Episode 12 Thoughts

Heya! After making my last post where I just live-blogged my immediate reaction to the episode, I had a few more thoughts that I figured I should write down somewhere. They’re all too small for their own posts, but I still think they’re worth sharing.

Spoilers for CH2 EP12

CW: Murder, hanging, suicide.

The Water Thing

This episode brought up two interesting points which had rarely, if ever, been discussed within the fandom: Arei’s body swinging, and her body temperature and its connection to water. And while I’m relatively sure I saw one or two people mention the swinging at some point, the temperature issue is certainly a new one.

The swinging was explained in the trial: Arei’s body was hung shortly before it was found. But J says something interesting; the corpse should have been warm, unless it was drenched in water and dried. Paraphrasing a bit, but you get the point.

However, I actually don’t think this is a big deal, just adds a slight addendum to previous murder theories. We know the killer dumped the fish in the playground to confuse time of death, so I believe the killer likely splashed Arei with the water to cool her down. This is assuming they even thought about the body temperature, but I don’t think this is a large assumption to make.

I have seen people claim that Arei’s hair looks somewhat wet in the BDA, which… maybe? Anyways, this idea would explain that as well.

This might even give us Possible Explanation Number I Lost Count for the damn missing glove. Maybe it got particularly wet and the culprit worried it wouldn’t dry quickly enough? If people discovered a dripping wet bowling glove, the whole “using fish to confuse the time of death” thing would kinda go straight out the window. I have no idea if that makes any amount of sense, I don’t see why the glove would dry any slower than the rest of her clothes, but oh well.

Arturo’s Talent, and his Recap Foil: Levi

(Here’s the link to the original Recap Foil Theory post by gleamingtempest, in case you don’t know what I’m talking about).

Kinda forgot this was a thing when first watching the episode, but now looking back on it, there’s some neat foiling going on. Levi and Arturo’s backstory already were somewhat opposites in some aspects: Arturo got away from home himself while Levi was disowned, though Levi seems to hold a higher degree of respect for his family in comparison to Arturo. Levi is (now confirmed!) a murderer with no remorse, while Arturo accidentally caused Felicity’s death to some extent and clearly feels guilty about it. Etcetera.

Well, we can add a new detail to this foil! Arturo’s been training his talent since he was twelve, while Levi has admitted since introduction that he’s “a novice to fashion.” Neat detail, and certainly adds to this theory.

Terumin VS Xanvid

Thanks to Haru for pointing this out, but Teruko’s “I’ll fix my mistake” echoes Min’s “I’ll fix your mistake” from her Argument Armament. As I mentioned in the linked post, it’s cool that Teruko is taking a sort of Min-like attitude to her mistakes while calling Xander out, while David is taking Xander’s side in the same trial he calls Min pathetic. Foils and all that.

(Doomed Yuri V Doomed Yaoi, fight!)

This makes me hopeful that Min will still have some importance later. But I’m probably just coping.

What Was David Cooking?

I am kinda sick of talking about this man, frankly. I blame the almost three hour video I made on his MV. But oh well, he’ll stop being center focus soon enough. For now, His Deal is still one of the most central aspects of the episodes, so discuss him I will.

There are two big points of contention with what he said this trial. First, what does he remember about Xander? Second, what was he actually trying to do by pretending to be Arei’s murderer?

The first is pretty simple to assume, I think. David remembers whatever Xander did to become the Ultimate Rebel, and respects him as a result. Especially since Xander’s numeral I in LGI, the Footnote 14 code solved by y-prime, is “I have always looked up to you.”

I don’t think David has Hope’s Peak memories, despite his weird wording with “even if you all lost a year of memories.” He specifically says he and Xander had never met in his Prologue introduction, before they had any real reason to believe they’d lost memories. The LGI video also doesn’t add anything, because… well, it’s not a Milgram MV. It doesn’t come from his memories, it exists purely in meta. This is evident from the comments referencing Byakuya, Nagito and Kokichi, characters these people should have no knowledge of as Veronika claims not to remember anything like the DRDT killing game happening before; certain references to conversations and details David shouldn’t be aware of (mainly in numeral placement), etc.

(While I was writing that, the dev seemingly clarified that David does not have Hope’s Peak memories, then deleted the tweet, so. Just in case, there’s the full reasoning)

The second one is trickier. David is following Xander’s ideals, but that’s all we know. We don’t have a concrete idea of what Xander’s ideals really were, and it’s even harder to know what David thinks Xander’s ideals were.

David: I’m sure he had a good reason. I believe that he did. Xander is not the kind of person to do anything for frivolous purposes.

He believes Xander had a good reason for trying to kill Teruko, he says he’s sure of it, but he never implies to know exactly what the reason was. And if he doesn’t know the exact reason, he can’t for sure say what ideal Xander was upholding by doing what he did.

But, he knows what Xander was trying to do; kill everyone. Because if it was just Teruko, he wouldn’t have tried to mislead people with the CD thing. Although, Xander was following that one note that said to “kill Teruko Tawaki,” so it could potentially be targeted.

So, taking credit for Arei’s murder to try and kill everyone is because Xander tried to do something similar. But the deeper reason he gave, about the nature of the killing game, is it true?

(Apologies in advance for the particularly horrible collage. I am without a reliable computer atm)

David [Annoyed]: Ugh, fucking fine. You want an answer so badly? Any answer?

[Face covered] …

I…

[Sweating] Ah… We’re… in a television show, after all. That’s… what MonoTV said, right?

“Entertainment” is an ongoing show.

If Min successfully got away with the very first murder and escaped while we all died, isn’t that way less interesting for a TV show?

What’s the point of roping 14 other people into one murder, only to kill them all off immediately?

The killer is supposed to fail and get executed. We’re all supposed to catch the killer, again and again, and participate in trial after trail. You’re *supposed* to try to survive.

All of you, who are trying to slice these class trials to continue living on are playing straight into MonoTV’s hands.

[Confident] As if I’ll accept that.

I don’t care how low I’ll sink, or how despicable I’ll have to become. I’ll do anything to carry on Xander’s ideals by ending this killing game, even if it means that I have to dirty my hands.

Oh, this man is lying out his ass.

This is not an answer you hesitate over if it’s true. The words David is saying are neutral; the show is meant for entertainment, and it’s not entertaining if people die early. There’s no controversy there, no reason to be nervous. Especially since Eden’s already come to the same conclusion.

Veronika: You know, Eden once thought of an interesting plan to end the killing game. Based on everything we know, it could theoretically work.

[…]

To make a television show so boring they have no choice but to shut it down.

All we have to do is nothing.

You’re not supposed to be sweating when you’re effectively repeating something Eden said, even if under a different context.

First, David says he’ll give “any answer”, already making anything he says shady. Then, he seems to deliberate on what to say, which is already suspicious.

The most notable thing is that when he starts talking about the TV show, and what it means for it to be entertaining, he still hesitates. If his plan really was to make the TV show boring, once he decides to spill the beans, there’s nothing to hesitate about.

He only regains his confidence at the end, ironically when he’s saying the actually insane stuff. He finally finds the character he was trying to play and actually says something true; he wants to uphold Xander’s ideals and end the killing game. But I really don’t think it’s because he wants to make it boring.

In other words, he’s not lying about wanting to follow Xander and end the killing game, but his explanation about the entertainment has nothing to do with that. It’s way too simple of an explanation for the amount he hesitates. At least, that’s what I think, I may be wrong.

That brings us to the question; if he didn’t take the blame to make the game boring, why did he do it?

Well, currently and without too much confidence, I believe it has to do with Xander’s secondary goal; killing Teruko Tawaki.

One of the most well-accepted theories in the community is that David’s secret, “everything in your life is worth killing over [and] the killing game is all your fault,” isn’t Xander’s, but Teruko’s.

(In fact, side theory: I’m betting (on little evidence) that by the end of the trial, it will be David with his fanboy knowledge to point out that the “survivor’s guilt” secret that Min “received” was actually Xander’s, and reveal by process of elimination (since it’s likely going to be revealed in the trial that Hu has Veronika’s secret and Veronika has Hu’s, assuming those theories are true) that Min has the poison secret. It’s a bit of a wild prediction, but I think it’s a reasonable possibility to how the series would go about confirming the secrets of the dead)

That, combined with the fact that Xander followed a note that told him to kill Teruko, would certainly be enough for David to decide that Teruko’s gotta die. And killing everyone in the class trial is probably the best way to ensure that happens, since David probably doesn’t hunk attacking her directly is a good idea. If Xander, physically the strongest student in the cast, couldn’t get past Teruko’s luck, what the hell is David supposed to do? Especially now that she carries a knife, though I’m not sure David knows that.

It’s not even that out of nowhere; in the LGI video, Teruko’s numeral XIII appears next to a quote regarding the child of Omelas among other things. Very long story (skip to 1:22:22 in this video for the full explanation), but the child of Omelas is someone who must suffer so everyone else can live in a perfect world. It’s possible David thinks of Teruko, for one reason or another, as the Omelas child; she’s gotta die so everyone can be happy. She is someone “deeply unloved” after all.

Now, is this a stretch? Certainly. But I don’t think David’s telling the truth about his motivations, and I think this is one of the more likely options as to what exactly he was cooking here. I’m sure there’s better explanations out there, I just haven’t seen them :v

David VS Whit

I kinda skipped over the “Red Herring pun to David Freakout” line at first, but I think it’s pretty interesting that David gets so mad at Whit’s behavior. They are Recap Foils, so it makes sense they’d have strong emotions towards each other.

In particular, I’d like to point out how David gets mad at Whit for something similar to what he does as a motivational speaker.

I mentioned it in the previously mentioned section of my LGI analysis, but I believe part of the reason David hates Teruko is that he sees himself in her (pessimistic, thinks the world won’t change, etc), and this would be the other side of that. David constantly says things he doesn’t believe to make people happy, and he considers that to be pretty stupid, so it makes sense for him to get frustrated when seeing Whit doing something similar, trying to raise spirits by telling jokes. Looking at Whit is sorta like looking in a mirror, and David hates that. The mirror in LGI is labeled “reflection is due” for a reason.

I’m not fully sure this works 100%, but I think it’s at least worth considering.

Updates on Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice

In case you’re new here, here’s a link to my post detailing the Eden!Culprit Levi!Accomplice theory, which I came up with alongside some other theorists, and is what I currently believe the murder to be. My thoughts on possible character motivation and the such have shifted a bit since then, but the important part is the physical evidence. In particular, the combination of Lockdown Logic to determine Eden most likely took the tape from the gym and the Fish Timeline to determine someone else must have helped her get the fish, combined with the overly complicated murder method which I describe in detail, leads me to believe Eden is the blackened, and Levi helped her kill Arei.

I’m not going to talk about other theories, I’ll let the dedicated theorists perfect them with the new evidence in their own time. But, how does this theory change?

On the surface, uh, not much. We haven’t talked method much, after all.

(Side note, I know some people are bothered by how long that’s taking, and while I kinda get it, I’m not bothered by it. We’re in no rush; I prefer it if all the character conflict is addressed at some point, even if it delays talking about the actual method. Better than it going unaddressed, after all)

The only change is adding that they splashed Arei with water to hide her body temperature, but as discussed, that’s a minor change.

The big wrench thrown into this theory is the end, because… I’ll be honest, dear audience, I have no clue what Levi’s cooking here. Like, at all. Zero read on why he’s revealing his secret. I could try to speculate, but I can’t find any fully satisfactory answer even outside the Levi!Accomplice theory. Nothing makes sense to me, so I’ll just wait for the next episode before trying to read into it.

There is one unrelated thing I want to bring up, though, and it’s related to Levi’s possible motivation. I know this is one of the biggest sticking points in the theory (obviously), so I’d like to talk about it.

As a refresher: although alternate ideas have been offered, my current guess is that it has to do with his desire to be a good person, and the fact he considers Eden a good person. Cue the whole “A Good Person” hidden title behind “All That Glitters.”

Levi: Perhaps I messed up yesterday. But I want to move on. I want to keep trying to become ‘a good person,’ like you, Eden.

The idea goes like this. Levi thinks Eden is good, and so he wants to do good by her. Based on the secret quote in the code of his character page, we can tell he prefers to speak through actions. He’s a bold action man, and that can cause him to come off as heartless.

Levi: I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness.

My personal theory (again, other Levi motives are possible) assumes that Levi believes someone will win the killing game eventually (and this is an assumption, I won’t deny it), and if only one persona can escape, he’d rather it be Eden than anyone else. Again, “good person.” Levi will die, sure, but unless he becomes a blackened himself, he’s going to die regardless whenever someone gets away with murder.

Now, this isn’t anything drastically different than what I said in the theory post, so why am I bringing it up?

Well, the thing is… Doing something horrible, throwing away your own life and those of most of your peers, all for the sake of the one you’ve deemed to be “a good person”…

Now where have I heard that before?

David: But doing “good” things requires sacrifice. Sometimes that sacrifice is being seen as a good person.

Even if doing something makes you hated, if that action is for a greater good, then it’s an action you have to take.

Xander is a good person. He’s the only good person I’ve ever known. I swear, I’ll follow in his footsteps and—

Huh. Funny how that works.

My point is that not only is “doing good by the only good person here” now a pre-established line of reasoning these characters can have, Levi doing such a thing for Eden would be a very interesting parallel to what David tried to do for Xander.

This isn’t evidence, to be clear. Just because one guy does it, doesn’t mean a completely unrelated dude is gonna do it too. But I’m calling it now as a potentially interesting parallel to explore, either in canon if I’m right or, like, an AU if I’m wrong :v

That said, I will point out that Hu’s capital G Girlboss Moment is directly after this, the one where she chews David out for deciding what’s best for all of them without consultation. And a little bit afterwards, Levi starts acting weird, apologizing for being useless, revealing his secret, etc. These two things could be connected, if Levi is, like, having second thoughts after that.

I could see a world where Levi’s trying to bring the conversation towards the right answer without fully committing to it, only for something or someone to somehow convince him back to accomplice-hood middway through it. I find that immensely unlikely, to be clear, but again, I genuinely have no idea what Levi’s trying to do right now, so.

All in all, a pretty neutral episode for this theory. Next one could completely break it, though, so I’m excited. I might have to come up with new theories! >:D

God I missed DRDT. And the only drawback of coming back is re-opening LGI trauma :D /silly

Anyways, thanks for reading! See you on the flipside!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Yo! Good morning/evening, hope you are fine^^💝. I wanted to ask you a question but I was afraid that it may bother you or something (you know..that feeling when you are scared that you might disturb someone or being an unwelcome person) but yeah I will ask you since i was serious about your answer for some time now so I hope I'm not annoying you or something *feel free to answer only if you wish^^. You seem to know the characters pretty well, you are quite capable and great at reading and understanding them, one of the things I'm serious about is what do you think would make someone qualified enough to be with malleus? Do they have to be of the same species?certain Reputation, stature or traits?(sorry can't help it since I can't rest until I know everything about what interests me and figure it all out😅). Thanks for giving me some of your precious time I really like your blog, you're amazing💜

No worries, you’re not bothering me at all ^^ I love to talk about my hyperfixations www

Now, I know a lot of fans (particularly on the EN side) like to ship Malleus with their OC and especially with Yuu so I want to first make it clear that my response is NOT meant to invalidate those Malleus shippers. Whatever I say here is based on my own interpretation of canon lore (and let’s be real here, TWST won’t ever confirm if anyone is romantically interested in Yuu because it might not work with how some players view their own relationship with that character). In fanon, anyone can be with anyone, but in canon there are very specific in-universe rules and expectations laid out for Malleus so these are what I will be referring to.

I also want to emphasize that the final traits I discuss in this post do NOT reflect Malleus’s personal tastes or views. He has little say in what kind of an individual his spouse would be, so his own preferences are not speculated about or taken into account here. The traits I will be bringing up are based on what I believe the lore implies are the desirable traits for those marrying into the Draconia royal family.

We got it? Good 👍 Read more below the cut!!

Firstly, I’m completely disregarding the ideas of “Malleus can love whoever he wants to love”, “Malleus can scare people into accepting who he loves”, and/or “Malleus can change the law so he can marry who he loves” (a la Sultan from Aladdin or through some other Disney magic or logic). Here’s why:

In general, those solutions for “high stakes issues” are too simple, and that has never been how Twisted Wonderland tackles complicated problems. Just look at every single OB boy’s backstory. They’re so complex that they aren’t totally resolved by the end of their books; these problems persist and are long term things each of them are working on addressing. This is also true of the politics TWST introduces to us; Leona for example explains how there is social pushback and resistance to the idea of infrastructure reform because the culture of the Sunset Savanna stresses harmony with nature. This has made it difficult for them to adopt new technologies because real politicians in their world have to seriously weigh their cultural values with their health and societal progress. The only time there are really easy solutions are in events or vignettes where the emotional stakes are not super high, but who Malleus marries is, in fact, super important since this will entirely change the life of a main character and his country.

With that first bullet point in mind… No, Malleus cannot love whoever he wants to love. Certainly, he may feel affection for another but he can never truly be with them. He is royalty and the only heir to the throne of Briar Valley. It follows that he is expected to marry for political reasons/to better his nation. This is a non-negotiable obligation for him.

Rather than saying, “Malleus cannot scare people into accepting who he loves”, I think it’s more accurate to say Malleus knows he probably shouldn’t. I mean, yes, he may be upset about his S/O not being accepted by his people but I feel that is discrediting a lot of the loyalty he has for his own country. As a kid he may have thrown tantrums when he was upset and potentially harmed staff, but as a 178 year old he has a much better understanding of decorum and maintaining it in spite of his own grudges. For example, even though he personally dislikes Leona he still commands Sebek to apologize to him because, at the end of the day, this could harm Briar Valley’s relationship with the Sunset Savanna. That’s not to say that Malleus can’t be petty (he definitely is)—but implying he would be petty toward basically his entire country just because they would disapprove of the one he loves?? (We know this would likely be true because Sebek’s parents faced similar backlash when they got together.) I feel like his own sense of awareness and responsibility for his country, crown, and people would override that. As an example, Malleus states that he has never been in a car before because the senate would be against it and often kept Malleus in the castle. Someone of his power could easily ignore them and sneak out and do whatever he wanted, yet the dialogue implies Malleus didn’t. He obeyed his political advisors even when he was younger and arguably much more immature. Malleus might not like certain decisions made about his life but it sounds like he ultimately complies with them.

Continuing from the previous point, let’s say for the sake of argument that Malleus does scare everyone into line. What about his public image and the mental health of his S/O? Maybe Malleus can frighten people to not talk out of turn to his face, but he cannot control what people whisper about him behind closed doors or to treat his S/O well or like they actually like them. Not only would they be alienated (away from their own home and forced to adapt to a new one) but they’d be treated oddly by others too. What kind of reputation is that for Malleus? To be a tyrant king who throws a hissy fit anytime someone talks about his partner in a way he doesn’t approve of? With a spouse who is not at their best mentally because of the constant ostracization? (This is similar to what Leona experienced in his childhood.) I don’t think Malleus would want to subject anyone to that kind of life, especially not one he loves. And again, this attitude would be the vast majority of his people. It’s not like it can be avoided or resolved in an easy manner, especially when the people of Briar Valley have proven to be against change.

Lastly, Malleus would not change the law so he can be with whoever he wants to. To begin with, I doubt this is a unilateral position the senate would approve of. But okay, let’s accept that Malleus is royalty so his power overrides the advisors’ power. So he effectively just changed a law for a very selfish and personal reason rather than changing something to actually benefit his people. That doesn’t feel in-character for him, not when Malleus seems to understand that it is the duty of those in higher status to help those below them rather than themselves (see: Riddle’s Suitor Suit vignettes. Malleus has acted selfish before, yes (who remembers Endless Halloween Night? His Dorm Uniform vignettes? I do.)—but never at the cost of changing the status quo of his country. (Book 7 is not included here because he’s in a very distressed emotional state then; this “new law” scenario posits that Malleus is in a normal state of mind.) This is a major change—change which Briar Valley, its people, and most importantly, Malleus, are not ready for. You think there wouldn’t be social pushback against this? From a society that has become complacent with its own way of life and is still isolated from the rest of the world? That Malleus, someone who struggles greatly with accepting life changes himself, could enact such a big change so easily? (On a more technical level, you don’t just pass a law and it instantly becomes tangible or real, there is a process of approval and then implementation.)

Additionally, it’s made clear in Ghost Marriage that “[Malleus] cannot enter into an engagement lightly”, which is why Sebek goes in his place. Eliza, the Ghost Bride, is royalty (er, albeit dead) but it seems that royal status is not enough to qualify as his partner. Maybe this is because she’s dead and doesn’t have anything of value for Briar Valley (no land, no people, no political power), but it could also mean that the partner has to be given the thumbs up by other parties.

All that being said, here are some of the conditions I think would have to be met for Malleus’s future spouse:

Has to be someone of equal or at least high status. This means they also have to be a royal or at least of nobility. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who is referred to as a duke.

Because of how self-contained Briar Valley is + nocturnal fae having beef with diurnal fae, I imagine his partner would have to also be a nocturnal fae. This would also solve the MASSIVE lifespan difference between fae and non-fae because at least fae would be far closer to each other even if their lifespans fluctuate but subspecies.

Someone suited to rule by his side. Being married into any royal family is no joke—it comes with the expectation that you will contribute somehow, and the partner should be fully equipped to enter the world of politics with him.

Piggybacking off the last point, I think mental fortitude is also a prerequisite. This is because being a politician (navigating the social climate both within your country and outside of it, keeping your people and colleagues happy, maintaining public approval, managing laws, dealing with potential attempts on your life, etc.) can be very stressful and can hurt those who are faint of heart or not prepared for the responsibility. Leaders have to make tough calls at the drop of a hat, and they have to be ready for it.

Has a lot to offer in terms of benefits to Briar Valley as a country. This could be in terms of resources, connections, and/or political savvy. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who acted as a diplomat for Briar Valley.

Vetting and formal approval from the senate. lmao good luck with that

Has to be able and willing to have a child. They at least need an heir to the throne to succeed Malleus. (However, knowing how exclusionary and conservative as heck the senators are, I doubt they would accept anything but a biological child 💀)

Preferably someone with powerful magic or is skilled at magic already so as to lessen the chance of “tainting” the bloodline with a weak mage or a non-mage.

I believe that Briar Valley would prefer someone with old fashioned values like them, not someone pushing for massive reform. They have a culture that is resistant to change and a history of fighting for resources with outsiders, so if Malleus’s new spouse tries to introduce a bunch of technology or open its borders to other countries (even if they have good intentions), the people + the senate may oppose them. His father is implied to be open-minded, but he at least understood that such change isn’t reasonable without time and effort dedicated to the endeavor.

All that being said 💦 I think that this topic is actually less about what Malleus as an individual wants and what his country, his people, and, yes, even his asshole senators, want. This is basically an arranged marriage situation so that their country can maintain power and relevance. It’s about the collective and what Malleus must do for their perceived security and prosperity.

[slothkittfunsies]

Deep Dive into the issues on Alastor.

CONTENT WARNING: Racism, Aphobia.

Now that I created a blog specifically for stuff like this, It's time for the dive.

Alastor is a character that resonates with me, because this guy is supposed to represent me and my people (aspec/aroace community) and I liked his pilot personality. (That went to shit)

This man got so many issues, that i have to take the pen myself and scribble what Vivzie has wrote. So, Let's start, shall we?

THE DESIGN

The first time I saw the Hazbin pilot, I got confused about what Alastor was supposed to be. I thought he was just a grey human wearing some kind of animal ears until the fandom said he is a deer.

A deer. Let that sink in.

(Images for comparsion)

As someone passionate about the arts, this upset me. Sure, I haven't been to art school, but even I know you need to put the backstory and features in mind when designing a character.

Character design is NOT throwing things at the wall and seeing which sticks. It needs actual critical thinking. If your audience is confused about your character's species, it's time to go back to the drawing table (unless you have a reason for making it mysterious.)

Second, the overabundance of red is awful in terms of color theory. This guy is in Hell, which is also red, causing an eyesore. I got a headache when trying to focus on him on a red background. And also, colors have meaning. People associate red with danger, so the fact he even managed to get victims to kill makes me puzzled.

Also, the fact he's supposed to be mixed/black makes this design even worse. Why is he grey instead of brown, perhaps? Vivzie has a pattern of making POCs grey-skinned, which is, again, awful.

I think Vivzie only made him a POC due to the voodoo issue. I mean, just remove the symbols and you are done. But nah the symbols are too "aesthetic" to remove. So gotta change his race.

She could have used another symbols, like THIS for example:

Since, you know, he's the "Radio Demon"?

THE BACKSTORY

Ok, this where I'm very confused.

Alastor is a radio host, and also a serial killer. He was born in the USA, got killed by a deer hunter by mistake, and lived in the 1920's.

This is what I gathered from being a superfan back then, and it sounds unorganised/cluttered. And the years he lived in make his design even worse. (Again! His clothing doesn't speak the 1920s!)

The fact he's from an old era, and yet speaks in modern slang is weird. He's supposed to hate anything modern, and yet he does it anyway? His saying "fuck" multiple times is so out of character for him. I guess the "If made by Vivziepop" memes have some truth.

Putting the fact he's mixed, makes the backstory more confusing. How did he manage to be a popular radio host at the time before the civil rights movement became a thing? He will have been put down like the rest of the POCs in America. Either that he's white-passing, or it's VERY difficult. Adding the fact he's a serial killer makes me think how the cops didn't get to him (the mere fact he's black should have got him questioned in 1920s America)

Now, for his identity. I'm mad he's the only aroace character in the sea of gays and bisexuals. (I'm not saying gay men and bisexual people should not have representation. I have to say that due to tumblr's piss poor reading comprehersion)

which made me go through on why Vivzie made him aroace in the first place. I don't know if this is true, but I heard she made him aroace because "he only loves himself"

Um. Here we go again with allos assuming we are non-empathic psychopaths for our lack of sexual or/and romantic attraction. I hope that's not true at all, but knowing Vivzie's past, I wouldn't be surprised.

Alastor would have been a great character if another person took care of it instead of Vivziepop. What I'm gonna say is, wasted potential.

[cherrygirlystuff]

Welcome to Neon Nostalgia – Your New Obsession with the Grungy, Lo-Fi Sounds of the 2000s Indie Scene!

Hey, babe! 🌸 If you’re anything like me, you’ve got a soft spot for the gritty, raw vibes of the 2000s indie music scene. You know the one – where every mixtape felt like a secret message, vinyl was more than just a collector’s item, and band posters were basically sacred art. Whether you were the queen of the local indie shows or just loved getting lost in the lo-fi sounds, I’ve got the perfect blog for you: Neon Nostalgia. Get ready to dive into a world dedicated to everything we adore about the 2000s indie scene – from mixtapes to vinyl art, and those iconic band posters that still make our hearts skip a beat. 🎧✨

Why Neon Nostalgia? 🌟

First things first, let’s talk about why Neon Nostalgia is about to become your new fave hangout spot on the internet. This blog isn’t just about looking back – it’s about celebrating everything that made the 2000s indie scene so unforgettable. It’s a space where you can relive the magic, discover hidden gems, and connect with other music lovers who feel the same way. Whether you’re here for the mixtapes, the art, or just the vibes, Neon Nostalgia is all about keeping the spirit of indie alive and thriving.

Mixtapes: The Ultimate Love Letter 🎶

Remember when making a mixtape was basically the highest form of flattery? Those carefully curated playlists were more than just a collection of songs – they were love letters, friendship bracelets, and time capsules all rolled into one. At Neon Nostalgia, we’re all about bringing back that mixtape magic.

1. Curated Mixtapes for Every Mood 💌

Neon Nostalgia features specially curated mixtapes that capture the essence of the 2000s indie scene. Whether you’re in the mood for something moody and introspective or want to dance like nobody’s watching, there’s a mixtape for that. And the best part? Each mixtape comes with a little backstory, so you can really feel the vibes that inspired it.

2. Make Your Own Mixtape Challenge 🎧

Feeling inspired? Why not take on the Neon Nostalgia Mixtape Challenge? It’s all about putting together your own playlist that tells a story – whether it’s about love, heartbreak, or just your favorite summer memories. Share it with the community, and who knows? You might just find your new music soulmate.

Vinyl Art: Where Music Meets Masterpiece 🎨

If you’re a vinyl lover, you know that it’s not just about the sound – it’s about the experience. There’s something so satisfying about holding a record in your hands, admiring the cover art, and letting the needle drop onto the vinyl. Neon Nostalgia takes that experience to the next level with its dedication to vinyl art.

1. Iconic Vinyl Covers of the 2000s 🎵

Neon Nostalgia has a whole section dedicated to the most iconic vinyl covers of the 2000s indie scene. From the minimalist beauty of The Strokes’ Is This It to the dreamy artwork of In Rainbows by Radiohead, these covers weren’t just packaging – they were works of art that perfectly captured the spirit of the music.

2. DIY Vinyl Art Projects 🖌️

Feeling crafty? Neon Nostalgia’s got you covered with DIY vinyl art projects. Whether you want to create your own album cover, repurpose an old record into something new, or just get inspired by the creativity of others, this is the perfect place to unleash your inner artist.

Band Posters: The Art of the Indie Scene 🖼️

Let’s be real – our walls were never the same after we discovered band posters. They were more than just decorations; they were statements, identities, and windows into a world where music was everything. Neon Nostalgia knows the power of a good band poster and celebrates it with style.

1. The Best Band Posters of the 2000s 🎸

Neon Nostalgia features a collection of the best band posters from the 2000s indie scene. Whether it’s the bold, graphic designs of Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the dreamy, abstract posters for Animal Collective, or the gritty, DIY aesthetic of Arctic Monkeys, each poster tells its own story.

2. How to Create Your Own Band Poster 🎨

Ever dreamed of making your own band poster? Neon Nostalgia has tips and tricks for creating your own poster, whether you’re a graphic design pro or just starting out. It’s all about capturing the energy and vibe of the music you love in a way that’s totally you.

Final Thoughts, Gorgeous: Let’s Keep the Indie Spirit Alive!

So there you have it, babe – Neon Nostalgia is your new go-to for everything related to the grungy, lo-fi sounds of the 2000s indie scene. Whether you’re here for the mixtapes, the vinyl art, or the band posters, it’s all about celebrating a time when music was raw, real, and totally unforgettable.

And the best part? Neon Nostalgia isn’t just about looking back – it’s about keeping that indie spirit alive. It’s about connecting with other music lovers, discovering new favorites, and maybe even making some art of your own. So whether you’re reminiscing about your first indie show or just discovering the magic of the 2000s for the first time, Neon Nostalgia is here to keep the vibes going strong.

Are you as obsessed with the 2000s indie scene as I am? Let’s chat in the comments about your favorite bands, mixtapes, and everything else that makes Neon Nostalgia so special! 💕

[ingravinoveritas]

Hi!

Have you seen Georgia's insta story? She's filming david and one of the kids called her a creep

https://instagram.com/stories/georgiatennantofficial/3212913988487468030?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igshid=MTc4MmM1YmI2Ng==

The only purpose of the video is just showing that even the kids think that her filming david all the time is weird

Like, yeah all of it is probs a joke but it rubs me the wrong way🤔

What's your opinion? Your blog is the 1st place i go to when i see news abt DT, GO or MS

(Grouping together since these are related.)

Hi there! Oh, I hadn't seen Georgia's Insta story until I saw your Ask, so thank you for bringing it to my attention.

A little backstory, for those who haven't seen it: Today was David's panel at NYCC, and he started to tell an anecdote about being given a pair of shoes for Christmas when members of the audience began shouting out telling him to tie his (very pink) shoes that were untied on stage. David actually tied the shoes, and the video of the moment was posted by NYCC on Twitter. An hour or so later, Georgia jumped in with a response and at the same time, posted this story on Insta (and the photo in Georgia's tweet appears to be from the same day that the video was taken):

For my part, I was under the impression that this was not a recent video, so to your question @phantomstars24, I don't think she is actually at NYCC with David. Rather, it looks like Georgia was searching for David's name on Twitter (again) and found a place to jump in with the screenshot and video.

In giving my opinion on this, I have to reference Georgia's Insta story from last month at the festival she and David attended, where she recorded him while he was walking and eating his ice cream:

Here, we see David take notice of the fact that Georgia is recording, after wondering why she was walking so slowly. He turns away for a moment, then looks back at her and says, "It's never gonna stop," and his voice is uncharacteristically...terse. He doesn't smile, or laugh, or give any indication that he is kidding (that I picked up on, at least). David's energy and the video as a whole just seemed off, but like many of Georgia's posts, it was written off as a joke.

The voice we heard of one of Georgia's children in today's video reminded me of that. Leaving aside the fact that this child actually flat-out called Georgia a "creep" (for which I'm also hard-pressed to find some alternate/jokey meaning) for recording David, the theme in both of these videos is Georgia constantly recording David for the sake of having content. And as we saw with today's Insta story, her then saving that content to use at a later date. I know the people who hate-read my blog will insist that Georgia gets permission from David before posting anything on social media and that he's fine with it, but it is really hard to think that he seems fine in the video from the festival. And how okay would any of us be if our partner constantly took video of us not to make cute memories, but so they can use it to prove a point later on?

As I've said before, all we get is this little slice of their lives that Georgia shares on social media. But increasingly, those little slices are starting to look like moments that might have been better left unrecorded/not posted to social media. To hear Georgia's own child call her out like that was jarring, but it also made me wonder how much they do see/what they think of what they are seeing. Even now it says something that they're already aware of her social media use and the lengths she is going to for content. (For that matter, I wonder what they will think in the future, such as if/when Birdie sees Georgia's Insta post calling her a "drunken accident"...)

Again, this could easily all be chalked up to me just missing whatever the joke/dry humor is here, but these were the impressions I had from seeing Georgia's content today. Happy as always to hear what others think, however, so feel free to chime in on this post...

[thenewrises]

more tidbits! (18+ MDNI)

what do i do while i sit here with pre-tattoo anxiety (i’m excited i promise i just hate needles)? make another post about my other thoughts i’ve had during the week tee hee. this is mostly just my inner monologue to get the brain going, so don’t take everything too seriously.

also even though it was only small attention, i’m glad people enjoyed my first post! i appreciate it and if you haven’t read that post, you can find it here! i talk about ren’s name, backstory, and the playlist associations! :)

The official 14DWY blog is @14dayswithyou

1. Picture!

discussing a picture saint posted a year and a half ago, there are some little points in it i was curious about, but mainly one:

- it’s not V or El as mentioned by saint, but they have light colored hair

- could be kiara mostly due to hair color but ehhhh unlikely

- could be jae-hyun but his natural hair color looks to be black so depends on the timing of the photo (also he is so suspicious to me dog)

- ren has some kind of big vendetta against said person due to all the x’s on the face

- i don’t think ren’s sister has blonde hair but also a possibility????

- might be someone we haven’t met yet! or don’t know about!

and if anyone was curious about the binary code:

“hey angel. what are you doing? why are you typing this?”

(ren. when i catch you ren…)

2. The other killer!

as mentioned, there are two killers in Corland Bay! and i have a fewwwww ideas about them from context clues and characterizations.

- possibly leon, seems to be confirmed he has some… yandere tendencies…

- jae-hyun could work as a possible accomplice, idk jae-hyun has grown mad fishy to me in my little searches

- MAYBE conan through blackmail due to association with mobs BUT idk enough about him and it seems unlikely but not off the table

3. Food for thought!

- is it possible that olivia knows ren outside of his haruka persona? in day 3, i got to see her say “your boyfriend ‘Ren’” which made me tilt my head a bit. does she know him somehow? it seems she could because she knows his childhood friend river. idk was an interesting tidbit i saw

- also have we ever considered wondering about ren’s last name? i’m only a little curious but i can’t remember if taylor took ichika’s last name or not but he could have!

me on day 7/8 going through ren’s house and STEALING HIS SS CARD

[laughing-with-god]

hi!!!! could you tell us anything about the unsaid vow couple? I’d love to know their story w/o the spoilers of course! ❤️

hey I love your blog! So cool to have you in my inbox!

And yes, I do have Unsaid Vow on my Patreon but tbh...I don't really have much backstory established for them as a couple, so this was a really cool ask that made me think. (I do purposefully keep their history kinda of vague tho, as I want the reader to make their own assumptions/stories.)

anyway, here's some random headcanons

I think you guys met at a party! I picture Y/N as a student probably in her first or second year of college. Had a group project and your group partner invited you to a party they were throwing, where JK also was at

He was very popular with the girls and tbh, I think drunk Y/n just wanted some dick and he apprecitated how you didn't sugar coat that

"I don't wanna be your gf, just heard that dick was a 10/10"

He was amused, you were cute and not usually his type so he took you home for the night

Think he was a clingy little bitch after that, kept hitting you up and you probably just thought he was a fuckboy who would keep trying to hit, so you kept letting him

It wouldn't be until another guy hit on you or something that JK would get up in their face like "tf you on my girl for?" that you're like...oh?

You never really had a bf before and I see you just being like "shit, it's college and he's hot, might as well try this out for a few months."

Don't think you guys have a clear anniversary date bc of that, prob just made a guess and picked a day

Honestly I think you would think this was only gonna be like a three-four month relationship

Early college bf Jk was kinda toxic tbh but you gave him passes bc he was hot and u didn't have anything to hide

I think he would keep your location on at all times, be super defensive if you didn't

he'd try to make you delete social media saying it's so toxic for ur mental health but it's actually bc he doesn't wanna share you w the world lol

stroke game had you seeing things and agreeing to whatever istg

I think he'd have a chain or necklace or something so when he's on top you kept getting hit on the forhead with it LMFAO (why do I find that hot tho?)

Took news of your pregancy surpringly well, you were ready to ask him help for the abortion fee and he was like "why would u kill my bby when we can just raise it?"

acts of service king during your pregnacy. isn't like cuddly or sentimental but def was the guy to buy you anything you looked at twice

stepped out after you gave birth to Hugo and had a lil cry

I think it would only be until after you had his son that his family would demand to meet you, I think for some reason JK kept trying to hide you from them

actually had a good bond with Hugo as a baby. kids are difficult to understand but Jk was good with babies. feed them, change them, burp them, hold them. It was so easy and I think baby Hugo liked naping on Jk's bare chest

Anyway I'm gonna leave it at that bc I don't wanna spoil anything lol

[natsmindx]

⋆.˚⋆✮⋆.˚ Desired Love

Dream x F! Reader Oneshot

Dream x Harmonia (reader), daughter of Aphrodite and Ares

Song inspo: Astronomy by Conan Gray

Warnings: Melancholy, angsty, oddly romantic?

A/Note: This is my first ever blog/written work published ever! I miss Morpheus and there’s hardly any work published for him so I got to work…hope you all enjoy!

PSA: this is not perfect :)

“Here face to face. Stranger that I once knew…”

Backstory: You and Morpheus had known each other for years, centuries actually. You always had a soft spot for Dream of the Endless. But did he have a soft spot for you? As a daughter of gods you knew your position. When you heard of Morpheus and Calliope’s marriage you were forced to back away until you were out of Dreams life entirely. Even when he was suffering his sons death, his wife abandoning him, a failed relationship with a mortal, and when he was captured by said mortals. You hadn’t seen him in centuries, until one day.

You were sitting on your throne, reading a mortals plead for harmony within their family’s house ownership. You had plenty of those, they always made you chuckle. Silly mortals and their fights over an object. Apart from those pleads, you also received pleads from the wars, those praying were being heard and you had that as your priority. Meeting with your brother Deimos and your father Ares, trying to get them to stop these affairs and let you do your work without causing more harm.

As you were reading you were suddenly interrupted by footsteps approaching your throne chair.

…

“I am quite busy” I said still focused on the book.

“To see me?” A low, raspy like tone spoke out loud

I froze completely, not daring to look up from my book. I stared at the page, eyes widened, not daring to glare at whose voice that belonged to.

Dream…Morpheus

I began to gain sensation again, frantically looking around the page I left on. I began to slowly look up from my book.

There he was. Tall, lean, messy haired, in all black. Morpheus, the Dream Lord, the King of Nightmares.

“Morpheus” you whispered still in shock, I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears. Perhaps I myself was dreaming. Yes, I had to be dreaming. I’ve wanted this for so long.

“Harmony” he said out loud in his dreamy voice that could easily induce me to sleep if I gave it the power to.

His eyes pleading for something, to say something. He always had that about him, he never used his voice much but his eyes. Always glazed with tears that I didn’t know if they were sad or happy. But that’s the thing, I had never seen Dream cry. Ever. The last time we saw each other was over 300 years ago, after I found out he was bound to marry my cousin Calliope, his now ex wife.

“Is everything okay?” I spoke gently, slowly getting up from my throne to meet him face to face.

“I…I” he chocked on his own words.

“Onerous” you said softly while looking into his eyes

“I am sorry” he slowly said. His eyes getting redder by the second.

You were now perplexed by emotions you didn’t know you still had. Romantic ones but also anger.

“Sorry?” You said both in question and in a sarcastic manner

“I was captured. 200 years” he started

“A long time to go over almost my entire existence”

“I am sorry for breaking your heart, abandoning, and humiliating you Harmonia.”

“I am sorry.”

“For all of it.”

I just stared at him, with now red teary eyes.

I hated remembering that day when everything went down, when my parents threatened to ban me from Olympus. To destroy my own realm. I loved Morpheus but within all these years I had found peace with had happened, or so I thought because after all I am the goddess of harmony, why not give myself grace as I do to mortals?

“It’s been years Morpheus.” I say sternly clenching my fists tightly that my nails dug into my palm.

“I am sorry mortals had the audacity to hold you captive. I tried reaching out to your siblings. Death and even Destiny but they didn’t want to interfere. After all, I am not your wife Morpheus nor a close friend” I said in a reminding manner while walking away from my throne onto the door to leave. Until he spoke again.

“Calliope and I are not together.” He said quickly. I could feel his despair.

“I know” I said relaxed. Not amused.

I found out about everything. His dead son, his wife leaving him but I didn’t reach out.

I wasn’t allowed to.

His face changed, one from softness to almost anger. Almost as stating how dare I know about what happened and not have comforted him. Not given him, a king, a lord, harmony; but grief comes before any comfort is given. There needs to be acceptance. There needs to be something for harmony to flourish in. He hadn’t allowed for any of it to sink in. Not until now.

“I am sorry for your losses Morpheus. I truly am but it is not my priority to comfort you, not when you took with a grain of salt what we had.” I said bitter. Not like me. Standing still.

“I wasn’t allowed to either way.” you said now angry, wiping a tear away

“Allowed to? Your’re a goddess.” He stated, almost with a hint of sarcasm behind it.

I chuckled.

“A goddess?” I questioned with a light laugh.

“A goddess whose parents threatened to kick her out of Olympus and destroy her realm if she interfered with your wedding and your married life.” I said while pointing angrily at Morpheus.

Dreams facial expressions completely changed. From anger to confusion and sadness.

“What” he said hurt

I stared at him, looking at his eyes with an almost pleading look.

He walked closer to me, mere inches away from my face

“I had to keep my distance Dream. For your sake, for my realms, for humanity.” I said now whispering as his hand reached to cup my cheek gently. I sunk into his palm. A tear running down my face.

Losing harmony would cause havoc on earth. It was too much of a risk.

Morpheus stared into my eyes, cautious of every move.

“Have you said the words, I would have not married her. Have you said the words I would have stayed with you.” He said now with a tear running down his cheek. I wiped it gently away with my thumb.

He’s so pretty.

He was now nearly 2 inches away from me, too close. I keep looking up at him and then looking down.

My skin now goosebumps as I felt Dreams breath against my skin, against my neck.

“You're pointing at stars in the sky that already died.”

“I loved you Morpheus.” I whispered into his ear. Tears silently fell down my cheeks.

“And I hate that after all this I still do.” I ended.

His eyes met mine and they were more red than ever, with streams of tears slowly starting to fall.

Dream had his own faults, his own feelings towards love. He was never lucky in it. A failed marriage and situations where the one he loved never wanted to marry him. Dream still loved Harmonia throughout everything. Yes, maybe a little less when he was married to Calliope but she was still in the back of his head throughout everything.

“Do you think it was easy for me? To forget you and what we had?” He questions you offended.

You think for a second.

“I don’t know Dream. I am pretty sure you were busy.” I said as cold as I could whilst backing away from him.

You weren’t harsh, and you barely got into arguments but you felt a certain way about this situation and anger was one of them. Maybe your father Ares was manipulating this situation, making you angry. He is your father after all and there is a part of him in you whether you liked it or not.

“What are you implying.” He now said hurt.

“Your realm is your first priority. Yes? And during that time your marriage was, your wife. Pleasure is simply a gift from marriage. A gift from my lovely mother and I. I suppose.” You stated, continuing walking away from Dream to sit on your throne chair again wiping dried tears away.

“Pleasure?” He now questioned angrily.

“Yes. Pleasure. My mother made sure to tell me all about it.” you replied cold crossing your legs on the throne.

Aphrodite. The goddess of beauty, passion, fertility and marriage. Blessing everyone but her only daughter.

Dream lowered his head. Almost embarrassed.

“Pleasure is undeniable. I admit it but I am quite sure you have received that as well Harmonia.”

I just stayed there, unable to move as my eyes glistened with tears again. I missed Morpheus so bad. My body craved his. I needed him.

“He needs you.” the wind spoke.

We looked at each other for a couple of seconds and when I was about to get up again Morpheus was now in front of me, leaning down, kissing me.

It was a sloppy, hungry, messy kiss. After centuries of not feeling his touch and his oddly warm hands on my body. We kept kissing for what felt like those centuries we had missed together. I didn’t care what my parents would have to say in the moment.

I wanted my lover back.

The end.

[leslie-lyman]

i cannot get you close enough [alpha!Max Phillips x omega!fem!reader]

[title from the Florence + the Machine song “100 Years”]

summary:

“You have to invite me in, sweetheart.”

Oh. Right. Vampire.

“Come in, please,” you say demurely, and Max’s smile widens as he steps over the threshold into your apartment. He reaches for you again immediately, kicking your door closed and pulling you close.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Such a polite little Omega.”

rating: E 🚨 (you must be at least 18 years old to read/interact with this fic or anything else on my blog)

warnings: oh lordy, here we go. A/B/O dynamics; one small scene of men being creepy and threatening towards reader (but, perhaps surprisingly, one of those men is not Max); extremely self-indulgent Halloween costumes on the part of your author; a bit of angst; fEeLiNgS; absolutely way too much plot and character backstory for what was supposed to just be porn; Alpha!Max is his own warning; heat sex; biting; blood-drinking; breeding kink; many, many creampies; Max has an absolutely filthy mouth; look, it’s heat sex with Max, it probably (hopefully?) entails exactly what you think it does

word count: 12.4K. You heard me.

a/n: HAPPY (belated, forgive me) BIRTHDAY @ezrasbirdie!!!!!! This one’s for you, babe. Thank you for encouraging me to finally write down my alpha!Max idea and for always being the most supportive, wonderful, amazing friend. I love you to bits and hope you had the loveliest of birthdays. ❤️❤️❤️ also thank you to @whataperfectwasteoftime for being my sounding board while I worked on this and for willingly subjecting yourself to increasingly unhinged screenshots of snippets of heat sex as I wrote them.

Masterlist. Taglist.

———

You meet Max on his very first day.

Water cooler gossip had preceded him:

He’s the youngest person in company history to be made a Senior Director of Sales.

He really turned around a failing branch in Albuquerque, if you know what I mean, and now he’s being brought in here to HQ.

He’s a vampire.

He’s an Alpha.

“A sales guy, a vampire, and an Alpha? Sounds like this guy won the douchebag lottery,” Morgan, your closest work friend, murmurs to you over lunch one day after overhearing some of your colleagues gossiping about the impending new addition to the sales team.

You snort into your salad, fiddling with the silver bracelet on your right wrist - a subconscious tick you did whenever your conversation involved talk of an Alpha.

“Well for better or worse, at least we have lots of experience dealing with men like that around here,” you reply. And lord knows you did.

The company was full of men like that, especially here in its New York headquarters. Men who swaggered around, cocksure and confident whether it was warranted or not (it usually wasn’t), hitting on female subordinates and superiors alike (though there were unfortunately few of the latter).

And good god, the smell. Most Alphas, in your experience, smelled like they’d recently emerged from a dunk tank filled with Axe body spray. It was a scent that pushed its way into your sinuses and took up residence like a squatter, overwhelming and nausea-inducing.

But most Alphas, in your experience, also overlooked you. Why should they give you, a Beta, any more than a glance, when they could otherwise be chasing some poor unmated Omega? And you were glad of it, the Alphas you encountered in your workplace and out in the world rarely giving you more than a passing leer and a sniff before they realized you gave off no scent of your own and moving on.

You can’t imagine trying to navigate through life if they knew the truth: that you were an Omega. You just went to great lengths to hide it.

Modern suppressants worked wonders, acting as birth control while keeping your Omega subdued and limiting your heats to two miserable weekends a year. But pills alone could not hide what you were entirely. The delicate silver chain around your wrist did the rest, the unassuming metal imbued with a powerful charm that erased all outward evidence of your designation, making your Omega undetectable to the senses of others. An old-fashioned relic from a time long before the invention of suppressants, handed down across many generations of your mother’s family.

Apart from your heats, you never took it off, and were grateful for it every day. You were content to make your own quiet — if often lonely — way in the world, confident that if someone ever were to take notice of you, they’d do so because of who you are, not what you are.

And you were comforted by the knowledge that Max Phillips, whoever and whatever he was, would leave you be just like every other Alpha you’ve met, and be none the wiser.

Max’s boss, Hector, an older vampire, brings him by your division as part of an introductory tour on his first morning. You’d been prepared for the perfunctory handshake and sly, flirty grin he gives you as you tell him your name.

“Nice to meet you, Max.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart,” he responds in that overly confident, borderline-inappropriate way typical of both Alphas and salesmen.

You had not been prepared for how handsome he is. The smooth, sharp cut of his jawline looks like it could cut glass. His strong nose is slightly hooked, but it only enhances his features, rather than detracts from them. His skin has a golden hue that’s a richer shade than most vampires you’ve met, who tend to have a paler, more washed-out quality to them. His expensive three-piece suit fits him like a glove (with the exception of his cuffs, which, you note, are a half-inch too long), and it shows off his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He’s going to break hearts all over this building, you can already tell.

But how he looks is nothing compared to how he smells.

It had hit you the moment he’d walked in, strong and overwhelming. But where other Alphas’ scents make you want to retch, this scent makes you go weak in the knees. You can almost feel it curl around you like a living thing, warm and comforting, with a hint of spice and an undertone of something a little sharper, like clean linen, and you wonder if that’s his vampirism’s influence. You want to wear it like a favorite sweater, you want to rub up against this man like a cat, you want him to scent you…

That ridiculous thought makes you shake yourself back to reality. Hector is introducing Max to your coworkers, your brief moment of introduction long over, but you notice Max stealing a glance or two back in your direction. There’s a hint of a frown tugging at his plush lower lip when he does, like he’s confused about something. You resist the urge to spin your bracelet around your wrist, not wanting to draw attention to it.

It’s alright. You’re fine. He can’t smell you. He can’t know. Even with his enhanced vampire senses, your Omega is hidden. And that’s for the best. Just like it always has been.

You watch as Max and Hector round the corner to head to the next suite of offices, and Max’s scent begins to fade. For a moment you have the ludicrous desire to follow him, but you quickly shove it aside and turn back to your work.

You’re a paralegal for the company’s legal department, so you and Max will be working on complete opposite sides of the office from each other. It should be easy enough to avoid him going forward.

And you need to avoid him, because even though you’ve only interacted for a few moments, one thing is painfully obvious:

Max Phillips is, above everything else, trouble.

———

His first month in his new role has Max busier than he’d anticipated. Unlike in his previous roles with the company, working at HQ has him surrounded by more Alphas and more vampires than he’s ever been before. Forget the endless cubicles of lazy mediocre employees spending their time building their fantasy football leagues and watching porn instead of working; the New York office is full of people like him: driven, competitive, ruthless, intelligent. Alphas. Vampires. He can’t coast here, not when he’s amongst so many peers who all have the same sorts of biological and supernatural advantages that he does.

Max has to work hard to keep up and get ahead here, to outmaneuver the other Senior Directors, to suck up to the bosses, to think up the Next Great Sales Idea before someone else does.

He loves it, even if his schedule is more packed than it ever has been. This is what he’s meant to do, this is what he’s so good at, and however much time and effort the company demands of him, he’s happy to give it.

So why, then, during his rare moments of free time, do his thoughts keep returning to the pretty Beta over in Legal?

There’s something about her that he can’t quite figure out. He only sees her occasionally, happening to pass her in the hall or going in or out of the break room with a mug of tea (never coffee, he notes). Rarely he’ll manage to catch her eye, but she always looks away the moment he does.

He can’t help but notice the way her clothes always fit her perfectly; dresses in rich jewel tones that sweep over her beautiful curves; high-waisted trousers that make her petite frame seem tall and statuesque; blouses with jeweled buttons or other delicate details. He should ask her, he thinks, where she buys it all, and how she affords such an immaculately tailored wardrobe on a paralegal’s salary.

Someone brings donuts into the office one day, and Max has the strangest urge to bring her one. Before he can waste too much time thinking about it he plucks one from the box and makes his way over to her desk.

———

You aren’t in your chair, but your purse and coat hanging off the back of it make clear that you’re here somewhere. Max deposits the donut and napkin next to your keyboard, and takes a moment to snoop.

There aren’t a lot of personal items on your desk - a framed photo of an older couple who must be your parents, a coffee mug emblazoned with the name of your alma mater currently holding an assortment of pens, a little figurine of that baby Yoda character from that Star Wars show everyone but he seems to have seen.

But then he notices the drawings. There are a few tacked to the fabric walls of your cubicle, all women in different outfits, done in a combination of pencil, marker, and watercolor, all of the kind you would find in a fashion designers’ sketchbook.

Then Max realizes that there is, in fact, a sketchbook sitting on your desk, large and well-loved but cheap-looking, something you could pick up for a few bucks at any craft store. Is this your hobby? More importantly, why does he suddenly care to know? Max is no judge of art, but the drawings are beautiful, and he can’t help but imagine what these dresses, if made real, would look like on you…

“Can I help you, Mr. Phillips?”

He jumps, turning to find you standing there, watching him be far nosier than he should be around your desk. You’re wearing a sleeveless dress and matching long blazer in deep cream linen today. He glances down at the donut he’s brought you and feels uncharacteristically foolish. What is he even doing here?

“No, sweetheart, I was just…” A coworker - one of the actual lawyers - walks by. “I was just waiting for you, Clark!” He swiftly catches up to the other man and throws an overly friendly arm around his shoulders as they walk back towards Clark’s office. “Buddy, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I’ve been told you’re the man to talk to about IRS compliance issues, or, rather, how to get around IRS compliance issues…”

———

Well that was odd.

You sit back down at your desk, reassured that Max doesn’t seem to have opened your sketchbook. You just keep it around in case inspiration strikes at work.

Then you notice the donut, the unmistakable scent of a certain Alpha all over it. Did he - did Max really - ?

Alpha provides, your Omega purrs, and you want to roll your eyes at yourself. Is the bar for men really so low that one of them bringing you a donut should make you want to open your legs for him?

But you also can’t help but smile, finding it a sweet gesture in spite of yourself.

———

You and Max become…workplace acquaintances, shall you say, after that. You don’t force yourself to avoid eye contact with him whenever you pass in the hall. You allow yourself a few moments of small talk when you happen to be in the break room together. You start calling him Max, instead of Mr. Phillips.

His scent doesn’t get any easier to bear, though. Nor does the way his shoulders fill out his suits.

It’s pleasant and superficial, even if you know it can never go any deeper than that. He’s friendly and nice, and even seems to get a little flustered by you sometimes, which you enjoy. And he doesn’t openly hit on you, which is a surprise, one you tell yourself you’re grateful for even if your Omega desperately wishes he would.

It’s all well and good, until it isn’t.

You’re crammed into the back of the elevator one day when you're running late and trying to get up to the office. Max and several of the other Alphas he spends much of his time with get on last, and suddenly you’re privy to an ongoing conversation you soon wish you could tune out.

“—nothing like it. But you’re telling me, Phillips, that you don’t see the appeal? Having a little Omega mate always waiting for you at home? Some insatiable thing always there with a warm meal and a wet cunt?”

You can hear Max make a hmm of acknowledgement at the other Alpha, who apparently sees nothing wrong with sharing his misogynistic views of Omegas in a public elevator surrounded by colleagues. Typical.

“Omegas can be fun, don’t get me wrong,” Max replies. “But they’re also so clingy and always want to talk about bonds and mating and commitment.” His dismissive tone makes very clear what he thinks of those ideas. “Why would I tie myself down when there’s so much of me to go around? Omegas are more trouble than they’re worth.”

It shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t. There’s two rows of people separating you; Max doesn’t even know you’re in this elevator, let alone that you’re an Omega. You should be glad he feels that way — then if he ever discovered your secret, you wouldn’t have to worry about him being interested.

Omegas are more trouble than they’re worth.

The elevator dings, and Max and the other Alphas file out.

“Just wait until you meet your mate, Phillips. You’ll change your tune real quick.”

“Yeah, and god help whoever ends up mated to this asshole.”

“Shove it, Bret, you’re just still pissed my team outsold yours last month.”

The rest of their conversation fades away, but the inexplicable nugget of pain in your heart does not.

———

The company’s Halloween party is its biggest employee event of the year, surpassing even the annual Christmas soirée. It’s always held at a ritzy hotel in downtown Manhattan, the kind of place you couldn’t afford a room at even for one night. Attendance is optional.

Technically.

But really, it’s one of those events where failure to show up signified a lack of enthusiasm for the company. And even though you approach this job as just a thing you do that lets you afford rent instead of your great calling in life, you don’t want to risk making things more difficult for yourself by skipping out this year. Besides, you just finished an incredible new costume and you’re eager to show it off.

Even if you are cutting it awfully close with your heat this time.

You’ve felt it coming on all week, that telltale prickle of warmth under your skin that won’t dissipate even in the crisp autumn chill that’s finally descended upon New York. The Friday night of the party, it’s almost upon you, but you figure you have until the next morning before it truly arrives. You can make it to the party. Say hi to a few people, make sure your bosses see you there, have one drink, then bail.

You’ve already put together your nest, the pile of blankets and pillows and the odd stuffed animal carefully arranged on your bed. You’ve stocked up on Gatorade and cheese cubes and popsicles, things you can snack on quickly in between rounds of feverishly fucking yourself on one of your knotted toys. You’ve done everything you need to do to make this heat bearable just like you have for your whole adult life, to minimize the deep ache in your core that will never stop reminding you of the one thing that’s missing:

An Alpha.

And you know, deep down, that this time when you’re alone in your nest and begging out loud to no one for an Alpha to come and fill you up, you’ll be picturing a very specific Alpha in particular.

You try to put Max from your mind as you zip yourself into your dress and put the finishing touches on your hair and makeup, making sure your silver bracelet is secure around your wrist. You’ve managed to keep your interactions with Max to a minimum in the two weeks since overhearing him in the elevator, and that is for the best.

Nothing but trouble, you remind yourself. He can be absolutely nothing but trouble.

———

You are sure that most of the time, the ballroom where the party is held each year is a perfectly elegant place. Multiple chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and large gilded mirrors on the walls lend the place an elegant, old-fashioned, Gatsby-esque vibe.

Unfortunately, whoever at your company is in charge of planning the party insists on ruining the natural classiness of the room by putting a light-up dance floor in the middle of it, over which looms a DJ playing tacky remixes of “Thriller” alongside whatever counts as Top 40 these days. The walls are flooded with aggressively purple uplighting like you’re at every wedding in New Jersey circa-2012, and there’s a bar shoved into every corner serving every liquor imaginable and featuring multiple bowls of questionable punch on beds of dry ice. It’s like all the loud, drunken Halloween parties you went to in college, but with a much larger budget.

But it’s fine. Get in, be seen, one drink, get out.

You smooth your hands over your skirt as you walk in. Your costume with its petticoat is a far cry from the skimpier outfits many of the other women in your office tend to gravitate towards for this party, but you don’t mind.

You’ve been making your own Halloween costumes since you were a teenager. Your mother made them for you growing up, and passed on her love of sewing and fashion to you. Last year, you were the Scarlet Witch, handmade headpiece and all. The year before that, you came to the party in a replica of Belle’s blue and white dress from the beginning of Beauty and the Beast.

This year’s costume is more obscure, but near and dear to your heart. The bodice is blood-red satin, with a swooping boat-shaped neckline that shows off just a hint of your breasts. The fabric bunches together in off-the-shoulder sleeves that stop at your elbows, with a scrap of delicate ivory lace attached to the end of each one. The skirt falls in ruffled tiers of black, but for an open panel at the front that shows off the layers of white petticoat underneath. Black lace bows cut across the white three times, and the silhouette makes your waist look small while the skirt flares and moves like waves when you walk.

You’ve built a few pockets into the skirt for practical reasons, but otherwise, it’s a damn near exact replica of Catherine Zeta-Jones’ dress from The Mask of Zorro.

You quickly find Morgan and your small group of work friends giggling over drinks in a corner, and they appropriately ohh and ahh over your outfit, having come to look forward to seeing what you’ll come up with for your costume each year. A trace of Max’s scent reaches you, but it’s faint, and hard to detect under the myriad scents of the other Alphas in the room. He’s here, somewhere, but you don’t see him. Which doesn’t matter, because you aren’t looking for him, despite the way your nearly-in-heat Omega is growing increasingly wild over it.

You’re halfway through your one drink when it gets to be too much — too many people, too many scents, music loud enough you have to shout to be heard, a room that feels far too warm. Pinpricks of light start to dance at the edges of your vision, and your bodice feels too tight; you can’t get enough air. You excuse yourself from your friends, and take your drink into the hall.

You wander until you find a much more quiet corner where the noise from the party is subdued. There are several padded velvet benches along the wall and you sink onto one with a sigh, closing your eyes and trying to determine whether you’ve stayed long enough and whether you’ll be missed if you head home now. What you wouldn’t give to be able to snap your fingers and skip the ride home, to just be magically transported straight to your cozy nest in your dark, quiet apartment…

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t notice the way a particular scent grows stronger, indicating that you’re no longer alone.

“Buenos noches, Señorita Montero.”

Your eyes fly open.

It’s Max. It has to be, the way his delicious scent sinks into every inch of you, invading your senses and making your stomach clench. But for a split second you blink at him in confusion, forgetting for a moment that you’re at a Halloween party, because the person standing before you isn’t Max.

It’s Zorro.

Zorro, in head-to-toe black, from his boots to his (tighter than in the movie) pants to the billowy shirt that exposes a significant amount of his chest. A fancy-looking sword hangs from his belt, his shoulders draped in a cape that falls to behind his knees. The trademark black mask covers his eyes, but the wry twist of his lips gives the illusion away — that look he’s giving you is all Max.

You recover from your initial surprise, laughing at your serendipitous coordination.

“Well, if it isn’t Zorro himself,” you say, playing along. “I’m surprised to see you at a party — you’re not here to cause trouble, are you? Should I be worried that there’s danger afoot?”

“Tonight, I am only here for the entertainment,” he replies, in a surprisingly accurate imitation of Antonio Banderas’s accent. “And to perhaps enjoy the company of a beautiful lady.”

You chuckle, but the humor’s gone out of it.

“Well if I see any, I’ll be sure to send them your way.”

Max frowns.

“On the contrary,” he says softly. “I’m speaking to such a woman right now.”

You flush, your body growing even warmer at his compliment.

“Can I sit?” He asks, dropping the accent. You gesture to the bench cushion beside you.

He settles next to you, maintaining a respectful distance and taking care not to step or sit on any of your dress.

“I had such a crush on Catherine Zeta-Jones in this movie,” he admits. “It’s still one of my favorites.”

“I had such a crush on her and Antonio Banderas in this movie,” you tell him. “That scene where they dance together basically invented sexual chemistry.”

Max nods in agreement.

“Where did you ever find a costume of Elena’s dress from the party?”

“I made it.”

“You…made it?”

“I’ve always made my own Halloween costumes. I make most of my own clothes, actually.” You’ve also got a shelf holding several awards from cosplay competitions you’ve accumulated over the past few years, but you don’t mention that to him. He doesn’t need to know the full extent of how nerdy you are.

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise (or at least, you think he does under the mask).

“So that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you always look so good. I mean — ” if he still had the ability, you think he might be blushing right now. It’s adorable. “Why your clothes always look so good. On you. Why everything always seems to be…well-tailored.”

“Well-tailored,” you repeat, your Omega preening at his praise, odd though it is. “That’s one of the more unique compliments I’ve ever been given, Max. Thank you.”

He grins at you for a moment, before his features soften into something else.

“I haven’t seen you around the office as much lately,” he says quietly. “Everything okay?”

Your heart stutters in your chest. Your fingers go to your bracelet, the metal cool and comforting.

You can’t tell him you’ve been avoiding him, let alone tell him why.

“I’ve just been really busy lately, I guess. Some days I feel like I never have a free minute to leave my desk at all.”

“That’s a shame,” Max says, shifting just an inch closer to you on the bench. “But perhaps if you don’t have time at work, we could find a time to see each other outside of the office? Maybe…I could take you to dinner next week?”

Oh my god. Is he — did he just — ?

It’s not a come-on, it’s not a lewd proposition, Max Phillips is genuinely asking you out. You’re sitting here dressed as Zorro and Elena and it feels like you’re no more than five damn minutes away from your heat and Max Phillips is asking you out.

You want so badly to say yes. Your Omega is screaming at you to say yes (and then jump his bones right here in this hallway).

But you can’t. There are so many good reasons why you can’t.

That overwhelmed feeling is starting to suck you under again. You can’t think clearly, not when he’s this close to you and you’re this close to your heat. You have to get out of here.

You stand up.

“I’m sorry, Max, I — ”

“Whoa, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” He stands and reaches out a hand to steady you, but you step away before he can.

“Nothing, I just, I don’t feel well. I should be getting home.”

“Let me walk you out — ”

“No!” You nearly shout it at him, and the look that crosses his face makes you feel like you’ve just kicked a puppy.

“I’m sorry, Max. Let’s talk about this in the office next week, okay?”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says softly.

You beat a hasty retreat for the exit, and don’t look back.

———

The entrance to the hotel is on a more quiet side street rather than one of the main avenues, and you’re grateful not to be thrust into the ebb and flow of a crowded Manhattan sidewalk the moment you step outside. But it also means there aren’t many cabs venturing down this way, and you know you’ll never make it if you have to take the subway. You whip out your phone and call an Uber.

Eight minutes away. You can handle that. Eight minutes in the fresh, chilly air, eight minutes to clear your head of the Alpha your body is craving more desperately with each passing minute. Eight minutes, then twenty minutes drive to your apartment. Less than half an hour until you’re home, until you’re safe in your nest.

“Well now, look at what we have here.”

Shit.

Three Alphas are stumbling their way down the sidewalk towards you. Their scent and their inability to walk straight making it very clear they’ve been drinking.

“Look at this pretty little mouse,” one of them says.

Maybe if you just ignore them, they’ll keep walking past you.

“Little mouse is all dressed up like she’s going to a party,” another says.

No such luck. They stop only a few feet from you, taking up the entire sidewalk. Each of them is nearly a foot taller than you are, and they’re blocking your path back into the hotel.

“You wanna come party with us, pretty thing?”

“No, thank you.” You try to say it calmly, but your voice wavers.

“Aww, don’t be like that, honey, we can show you a good time!”

The third one leans towards you and inhales.

“Shit, she’s just a Beta.” But that doesn’t seem to deter them either.

“We can still have fun with a Beta. C’mon little mouse, come have some fun with us.”

“I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

“Maybe she’s just never had a real Alpha show her a good time,” the first one says.

“I bet we can make you change your tune real quick, honey — ”

It happens so fast. The second Alpha reaches out to grab your arm, but as you flinch away he catches your wrist instead. When you try to jerk away from him, his thumb snags on your bracelet, and you watch in horror as the clasp breaks.

It falls soundlessly to the ground. But the Alphas harassing you barely notice, all of them immediately interested in something else.

Your skin immediately breaks out in a cold sweat, your scent glands on either side of your neck now visible, red and swollen. And you can see the moment your scent — your real scent — hits them. The three men seem to grow bigger, all of their Alpha instincts triggered at once by the sudden scent of an Omega in heat right in front of them. All three of them breathe deep, and you’ve never felt more like prey.

“Not a Beta,” the third one growls, practically licking his lips.

“Look at that, it’s a little Omega mouse,” the second one says, and his malicious delight makes your blood run cold. The bitter taste of adrenaline floods your mouth. What should you do? If you scream, someone from the hotel has to hear you, right?

“Looks like this is our lucky night,” the first Alpha grins. “Come here, Omega.”

You fight it, you try to fight the compulsion of an Alpha’s command with everything you have, but it’s useless. You take an involuntary step towards him—

But suddenly the Alpha isn’t standing in front of you anymore. Some invisible force yanks him away from you and flings him clear across the street. There’s a painful-sounding crunch as he lands on the windshield of someone’s parked car and shatters it. The effect of his command dissipates.

His companions are just as confused as you are until the next moment they find themselves both shoved up against the building, a figure dressed entirely in black holding them up with a hand on each of their throats.

Max.

The sound he makes is inhuman, a warning snarl that starts deep in his chest. Alphas are strong by nature, but against a vampire, there’s no winning.

There is only one predator here now.

“‘Evening, boys.” He must be showing them his fangs, you can hear it affect his speech. “Looks like you’ve chosen a lovely night to die, hm?”

“Max! Don’t!” You place a placating hand on his shoulder. These men frightened you, yes, and would have done who knows what else, but you didn’t want them to die for it. And more importantly, you didn’t want Max to get in trouble for killing them.

“They threatened you,” he seethes, his grip on their necks tightening. “They touched you.”

“They’re not worth it, Max. Please, I’m safe now.”

He doesn’t let them go. But then the first cramp of your heat hits you, and you gasp in pain.

“Max, I need you. I — please, Alpha.”

That gets through to him. He cocks his head like he’s listening for something.

“Sounds like your friend is still alive over there. You’d better get him to a hospital. And if I ever see any of you again…”

He throws each Alpha one-handed to the ground like they weigh nothing, his point very clear. They pick themselves up, wheezing, and go collect their companion before slinking off into the night.

Max gathers you into his arms, your whole body starting to shake.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, “I have you, I have you, you’re alright.”

“How did you know?” You mumble the question into his shirt.

“I could smell you. All of a sudden. Your scent — you were afraid.”

He tilts your chin up so he can look at you.

“Omega?”

There are so many different questions contained in that one word, but you only have one word for him in reply.

“Alpha.”

Then he’s kissing you, his lips soft but demanding and you yield to him instantly.

“Omega,” he breathes, kissing his way down your throat till he reaches your gland, tracing it with the tip of his nose, his lips, his tongue, scenting you. “Omega, all this time…”

You cling to him, your hands scrabbling to pull his shirt free so you can get your hands on his skin, though you’re not sure to what end.

There is every chance you would have let this man fuck you right here on the sidewalk if not for the interruption of your Uber driver honking at you, having finally arrived.

“Oh shit,” you say, suddenly coming back to yourself. “That’s my ride.”

“Let me make sure you get home okay,” Max sounds like he’s out of breath, an impossible circumstance for a vampire. “I swear to you, sweetheart, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, but please, just — let me make sure you’re safe.”

The absolute last thing you want is to be alone right now, so you nod.

Max bends down and scoops something off the concrete, a thin silver chain glinting in his hand.

“My bracelet,” you say, having forgotten all about it.

Max turns it over in his palm, and seems to understand. He loops it around your wrist, despite the fact that it’s broken.

“I need you to hold this right here until we get you home. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You can, and you tell him so. When you hold the ends together, the charm re-activates, camouflaging your designation once more. When Max slides into the Uber next to you, you think you see some of the tension leave his body, that at least he won’t have to sit in this confined space with the scent of an Omega going into heat. He settles his hand on your knee, and his touch helps calm you.

You pass the drive to your apartment almost in complete silence. You use the time to consider your options. Max knows you’re an Omega. He knows, and he helped you anyway. In fact, based on the hungry way he kissed and held you back there, maybe you could ask him to help you a little more…

By the time you arrive at your place, you’ve come to a decision. You’ll ask Max to help you with your heat, but that’s all. If he’s willing to do that, despite his stated aversion to Omegas, you can make it through the next 48 hours without doing too many of those Omega things he finds so distasteful. You won’t alienate him completely. You will not be more trouble than you’re worth.

Forty-eight hours, and that’s all you’ll give yourself with him. There’s no use getting attached and hoping for more now that he knows the truth. You’ll ask Max to be yours for the weekend, and no more.

When you finally make it to your front door, it takes you several attempts to get your key in the lock. Max hovers behind you, a hand on your lower back, like he can’t help but touch you.

You turn to him.

“Thank you, Max. I don’t know what would have happened if — ” You can’t even finish the thought.

“I’m sorry this happened to you, but I’m glad I was there.”

“Listen, about my designation, I - ”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Max says, shaking his head at you. “And besides, I think I got a pretty good example of why you’d hide it a few minutes ago.”

You both fall silent, just looking at each other, and it’s obvious neither of you wants to part.

“Do you want to — would you stay?”

His lips quirk up.

“What I mean is, it’s my heat, and I was wondering if you…”

“I know it is,” he says quietly. “Since the moment I caught your scent at the hotel, I’ve known. You’re in heat, baby. You want me to stay and take care of you?”

You whine, but that’s answer enough.

“Good,” Max nods. “I want that too.”

You reach behind you and somehow get your door open, letting your bracelet fall to the floor. There’s a moment of confusion as you don’t feel Max follow you inside, his hands slipping from you and for the first time since outside the hotel he isn’t touching you. You turn to face him as anxiety rises, fast and irrational: is he having second thoughts? Does he not want to do this? Is he going to leave you to face your heat alone after all?

These questions must be written all over your face because he gives you a small smile and gently says:

“You have to invite me in, sweetheart.”

Oh. Right. Vampire.

“Come in, please,” you say demurely, and Max’s smile widens as he steps over the threshold into your apartment. He reaches for you again immediately, kicking your door closed and pulling you close.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Such a polite little Omega.” And even that bit of praise makes you shiver in his arms, slick starting to leak into your underwear. Max’s nostrils flare and you know he can smell it. Perhaps you should be more worried that you’ve essentially invited a fox into a henhouse, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Alpha is here, and he wants you.

You’d assumed the moment Max got you alone he’d be all over you, and you can feel the tension in his body and smell the desire pouring off of him, but he holds himself back, pressing almost lazy kisses against your lips while he holds you flush against him, his hardening cock thick in his trousers.

“Where do you want to do this, pretty girl? Tell me now, before I strip you down and knot you against your front door.”

Another whine escapes you, your Omega having no objections to that plan, but the rational part of your brain prevails.

“Could we - ” you start, trying to take a step backwards towards your bedroom, “I made - ”

Max grins against your cheek, moving with you down the hall without letting any space come between you.

“Did you make a nest, baby? You make a nice, soft place for me to fuck you in? You wanna show me?”

You nod furiously, pulling him back down to kiss you as you both stumble inelegantly into your bedroom.

———

Max takes care as he undresses you, peeling you out of the layers of your costume without damaging it.

When he’s finally got you bare, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you, just once, before pulling away.

“Go get in your nest, baby, and let me get you ready.”

You obey him eagerly, making yourself comfortable among your blankets while Max strips, his body just as broad as his suits make him seem, but not overly muscled. His cock is big, thicker and longer than any you’ve taken, and you can’t wait to have it inside you.

He strokes himself lazily as he kneels on the bed and looks at you, a little wave of self-consciousness rising in your chest. Does he like how you look? Does he like your nest? You press your thighs together, suddenly worried about what this Alpha might think of you.

But Max quickly puts those fears to rest.

“Spread for me.”

You part your legs, and Max lets go of his cock to run his hands up your legs, just barely ghosting the tips of his fingers over the lips of your cunt, already shiny with slick.

“Beautiful,” he breathes. “You gorgeous girl. Made such a good nest, made such a perfect place for me to breed you.”

Your cunt bottoms out at his words, your Omega all happy and warm at his praise. He drapes himself over you and proceeds to cover your whole body with kisses, starting with your lips, your throat, your glands. He plays with your breasts, cupping them in his palms, and sucks and bites at your nipples until you’re a squirming mess beneath him.

He’s sucking a little bruise into your tummy, just next to your belly button, when he finally breaches you with his fingers, three of them filling you with ease.

“This okay, baby?”

“Mmhmm.” You bite down on your lip and roll your hips, wanting him deeper.

“You’re so wet already, Omega. You wanna cum for me?”

Yes, yes you tell him, and he curls his fingers and puts his thumb on your clit. In a matter of minutes he has you rippling around his fingers, slick gushing onto the bed below you.

“Good girl.” Max sticks his fingers in his mouth, licking up every drop of your slick. He leans down and kisses you, his tongue possessive as it tangles with your own, sharing the sweet flavor of your slick with you.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart. Get on your hands and knees for me.”

His cock pushes into you slowly once you’re in position, his hands on your hips holding you firmly, not letting you fuck yourself back on him.

“You’ll take it slowly this first time, Omega,” he says, finally seating himself to the hilt. He gives you time to adjust, until finally your patience breaks.

“Please move, Alpha. I’m ready, I wanna feel you.”

He obliges, driving into you with long, powerful strokes. The tip of him bumps up against your cervix, stretching you on his cock, and it’s indescribably good. His fingers had been one thing, but this is something else entirely. You’re surrounded by him, drowning in his scent, and it works you up to another climax astonishingly quickly.

“Alpha, I’m — I’m gonna cum — ”

Max reaches down to rub at your clit and you clamp down around him, keening his name.

“Yes, Omega, let me feel it. Fuck, you get so fucking tight when you cum.”

He plants one hand by your head, fingers splayed wide. His thumb rests barely an inch from your face, and without thought you stick out your tongue and lick it. Max hisses above you and you do it again, shifting your chin so you can take his thumb fully into your mouth.

“Oh, baby girl,” he growls, slamming his hips against yours, “you need it, don’t you? You need me in every hole? I’ll fucking give it to you. Need me to fuck your ass next? I’d love to see you all stretched out on my cock, watch you try to cram my knot inside that pretty little asshole - ”

You manage to garble out a little mhm around his thumb and Max moves his other hand to your shoulder for better leverage, trying to go faster, to get himself deeper inside you.

And it feels so good, his cock filling your pussy, his fingers in your mouth pushing you even further into the submissive haze of your heat. Drawing your Omega further up from where you’d buried her for so long, until she rises to the surface, set free. It feels good to be used, to be a good set of holes for Alpha to fill as he wishes, to have such a clear and useful purpose.

“You ready to take my knot, baby? You gonna take it all for me? Gonna let me breed you?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you moan, and Max comes undone. You feel his knot swell and catch inside you, locking you together and he cums and cums, filling you over and over with his spend. He trails kisses across your back, murmuring praises into your skin.

“You okay, sweetheart? Does it feel good? Such a good Omega for me, taking my knot, taking all my cum. Gonna make me such pretty babies, aren’t you? Gonna keep all my cum inside you until it takes, hm?”

You try to lift your hips, try and press yourself even closer to him. He won’t get you pregnant, he can’t. Vampires only shoot blanks, but when your heat takes control of you, your body doesn’t care about such technicalities. You’re so eager for it, you want it so badly.

And the small part of your brain that’s still capable of rational thought wonders how the hell you’ll ever come back from this, from him. Now that you know how good this can be, how can you ever go back to going through your heats alone?

You are, in more ways than one, so, so fucked.

———

Max is a surprisingly attentive Alpha. When you make to get out of bed to get something to drink, he pulls you back in, going to get it himself with a small growl of “stay.” He brings you back a bottle of Gatorade and a glass of water, along with some crackers and trail mix you’d left out on your counter. When you reach for the water, he makes a noise of discontent.

“No, let me,” he says, sitting down next to you and holding the glass to your lips. He looks a little sheepish at insisting on doing this for you, and it occurs to you that his Alpha instincts are probably riding him as hard as your Omega instincts are riding you. His innate need to care for you a perfect compliment to your need to be cared for.

Max tips the glass up and watches as you take several long sips.

“Good,” he murmurs, eyes on your throat as you swallow. When you’re done, he sets the glass on your bedside table. A drop of water clings to your bottom lip, and he leans over to kiss it away. He licks along the seam of your lips, politely asking for entrance, and you happily grant it. He tugs you into his lap and you can feel the fever rising again, your brief reprieve from the all-encompassing need to be fucked nearly over.

Max’s eyes darken and you know he can smell it, the way your body is starting to get you ready to be bred again.

“What do you need, baby?”

You squirm in his arms.

“You, Alpha.”

The grin that splits his face is so cocky that under normal circumstances you’d be tempted to smack it off him. But doing so is the last thing on your mind when he twists you around so your back hits the mattress, your entire field of vision taken up by your Alpha.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he coos, reaching down to line himself up with your entrance, “that’s fucking right.”

———

This is the odd routine you find yourselves in: your mutual desire rising to an inevitable peak, culminating in a furious round of mating that ends with Max’s knot filling you over and over with his seed. But once you’re both temporarily sated, you get periods of lucidity to rest. Sometimes you take a short nap on Max’s chest, other times he feeds you from the plethora of snacks he’s fetched from your kitchen.

One time he carries you into the shower, refusing to let you walk there on your own. You intend to finally get all of your makeup off and product out of your hair from the night before, and you do, but barely have you done so before Max has you pressed up against the tile, frantic to replace the scent of him on you that you’ve washed down the drain.

He fills you again but doesn’t knot you, instead wrapping you both in a towel and rolling you back into your nest, still damp all over. He wedges his shoulders between your legs, spreads you open with his thumbs, and just looks, mesmerized. Then he leans in and licks up the steady trickle of slick and cum that leaks from you with a groan.

“You taste like me, baby. Look at how much of me you have inside you. You can’t even keep it all in.”

He gathers what his tongue missed on his fingers and pushes it back inside you.

“That’s what - ngh - that’s what your knot is for, Alpha,” you pant.

Max nods sagely in agreement.

“It is, Omega, that’s true. But I think I need to make some room for more before I breed this needy pussy again, don’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for your reply before diving in with his tongue once more.

———

“How long have you been a paralegal?”

“Since I finished college.”

In all the things people told you about what to expect during your heat, “making small talk with an Alpha while you wait for his knot to go down” was not one of them.

But you find you don’t mind it. Max is surprisingly easy to talk to. He’s sharp and funny and laughs at your wit. He asks you more questions about yourself while you’re locked together on his knot than you’ve been asked during the entirety of some first dates you’ve been on, and seems to genuinely care about your answers.

You like him. A lot. Fuck.

“My parents want me to go to law school,” you tell him. “Being a paralegal is a way of appeasing them, though I don’t know for how much longer.”

“You don’t want to be a lawyer?”

You shake your head no, brushing against Max’s chin from where he’s lying on his side behind you.

“I like my job well enough. It’s predictable, and I’m good at it, and it’s good money and rarely insane hours. But the law isn’t my grand calling in life.”

“What is?”

You burrow your head into the pillow.

“It’s silly.”

Max gently runs his hand up your side, trailing his fingertips along the outer edge of your breast.

“I’m sure it isn’t.”

You take a deep breath.

“You know how I told you I make most of my clothes?” He hums the affirmative. “I’ve done it a few times for other people, too. A few formal dresses, some Halloween costumes, even a cosplay outfit or two, all for friends or their kids. If I could do anything…I think I’d do that. Make beautiful clothes for people that make them happy.”

Max is quiet for a moment. Then he asks:

“Why don’t you?”

You snort. “What?”

“Why don’t you? I’m sure you’d be amazing at it.”

“I can’t exactly work full-time and take commissions, Max.”

“So quit your job.”

You almost sit up in surprise before remembering at the very last second that you need to be careful how much you move right now.

“Quit my job? Just like that?”

“Why not?”

“I — I wouldn’t even know where to start. I don’t know the first thing about how to set up a business.”

“That’s okay, I do.”

You freeze.

“What do you mean?”

You feel him shrug.

“Well, not to brag or anything, but you may have noticed that I’m kind of amazing at the whole business thing. If you need help setting up a business plan and getting things off the ground, I could help.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. He isn’t yours, you remind yourself. So what if he just casually offered to help your biggest life dream come true? Who knows if he even really means it. It’s dangerous to get too close to him, it’s dangerous to let him into your life that way. This is. Just. Temporary.

“That’s…very kind of you, Max.”

“I know. I’m really quite something.”

You reach back and elbow him in the ribs the best you can from this angle, but he just chuckles and curls himself back around you.

“What about you?” You say, eager to change the subject. “Why sales?”

“I like making money and I’m very good at it,” he says simply.

“Typical Alpha.” You roll your eyes.

He tickles your side in retaliation.

“Hey!”

You giggle, trying not to move in a way that will pull painfully at his knot.

“I just mean…Alphas like to win. Lots of opportunities to do that in sales, where you have exact numbers that can show exactly how much you’re dominating your competition.”

Max playfully nips at your ear.

“I guess that’s true. I’ve never thought of it that way before.”

He curls his hand over your hip and grinds his knot even further into you, making you gasp.

“Although, Omega, speaking of dominating…”

———

Max is asleep next to you. At least, you’re pretty sure he is. Do vampires need to sleep?

Regardless, his eyes are closed, and he’s unnaturally still in a way that’s a bit unnerving. His chest doesn’t rise or fall, he doesn’t snore or twitch, his pulse doesn’t beat beneath his skin. Still, he must be tired. You’ve probably exhausted him. He’s sure as hell worn you out over the last 24 hours.

But your skin still feels flushed and hot, your body insisting that it’s time again. Slick leaks steadily onto your thighs, your cunt starting to throb with the need to cum. You hate the idea of waking Max up, hate the idea of seeming that desperate and needy, of embodying all of the things you know Max doesn’t like about Omegas.

Maybe you don’t have to bother him this time. Maybe if you can just sneak your hand down towards your clit, if you can just get yourself off one time, it’ll trick your body into calming down until Max wakes and can fuck you properly again. If you can just be quiet…

You circle your clit with two fingers and bite back a small sigh of relief. It’s nowhere near the same as when Max does it, but hopefully it’ll suffice until -

“What do you think you’re doing, Omega?”

You freeze, turning your head to see Max now wide awake and pinning you with a stare that lets you know you are in a lot of trouble.

“N-nothing.”

“Nothing?” Max hums, shifting until he’s hovering over you. He pulls your hand away from your cunt and secures both your wrists above your head in a one-handed grip. He trails his other hand down your body until he’s petting gently at your clit.

“It looked like you were touching yourself. Were you?” His tone is calm, but there’s a wicked gleam in his eye that says otherwise.

“Yes.”

Max tuts, his fingers still barely stroking you, enough to make you squirm but not enough to get you anywhere near your climax.

“I - I thought you were asleep,” you say by way of apology.

“Vampires don’t sleep. We - ” Max searches for the right word, “rest, in a way. But if this pretty little pussy needs to cum, all you have to do is say so.”

He dips his head to pull your nipple into his mouth before letting it go with a dramatically loud pop.

His fingers start to move faster, pressing more firmly against you, touching you in a way you know will make you cum, but you’re still so empty. You need something to cum on, you need to be full of Max’s cock. You can feel it hard and hot against your thigh as he lightly grinds it against you.

“Max, please, I need to feel you - ”

“Oh no, sweetheart, I don’t think so,” he tells you sternly. “You decided to take this orgasm for yourself when you thought I was asleep, you decided to make yourself cum without being filled up, and now that’s exactly what you’ll get. Naughty girls don’t get to cum on their Alpha’s knot.”

You writhe underneath him, seeking more stimulation, but he’s so much stronger than you are that you’ll never be able to get more than exactly as much as he’s willing to give you.

“It’s not enough, Alpha,” you whine.

“Shh,” Max hushes you, his fingers never stopping. “Of course it isn’t. But punishments aren’t supposed to be satisfying. Cum for me like this, just this once, and then I’ll give you what you need, okay?”

You can’t do anything other than nod, and it isn’t long before you’re cumming, your orgasm barely more than a few ripples of pleasure compared to the tidal wave you know Max is capable of giving you when he’s fucking you full. He watches your pussy clench weakly around nothing.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos at you with false pity. “That wasn’t a good one at all, was it? See what happens when you don’t let your Alpha take care of you like he should?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you say meekly, trying to appear as submissive and compliant as possible.

“You still wanna be my good girl?”

You can’t tell him yes fast enough.

“Then turn over, sweetheart. Show me all of that pretty cunt.”

You scramble to obey, going down on your forearms with your hips in the air. Max spreads your cheeks apart and inspects you, everything on display for him. You nearly jump when you feel him run his tongue all the way from your clit to your little puckered hole, tasting every inch of you.

“Mine,” you hear him murmur, almost to himself. Then you feel his cock nudge against your folds, and in one swift stroke he fills you. You don’t get even a second to breathe before he starts to move.

Max cups the back of your neck, his hand large enough that he can reach both of your scent glands at the same time, and presses his fingers and thumb into them. The message is very clear: submit. You instantly go limp like a ragdoll, the pleasure overwhelming. Another orgasm rolls through you from the stimulation, this one so strong you’re reduced to whimpering and drooling onto your blankets as you quietly pulse around him.

“Oh fuck, atta girl, atta girl,” Max grunts behind you. “This is what you really needed, isn’t it? Just needed a firm hand and a big cock to take care of you, hmm?”

And it is. It really fucking is.

———

Keeping track of time isn’t the highest priority for you at the moment, but you’re vaguely aware that Saturday night has bled into Sunday morning has bled into Sunday afternoon. The periods of rest you get are slowly becoming longer. Another twelve hours or so, and you’ll be almost entirely out of your heat. Normally, you’d be counting down the minutes. Instead, you’re dreading having to give Max — or at least, this fantasy you’ve built with Max over the past two days — up.

You’re lightly dozing and trying to forget about it when you become aware of Max spooning himself up behind you. His cock is hard against your ass, which isn’t surprising, but what is surprising is the way he nuzzles into your neck, kissing and lapping at your gland before moving up and fixating on a spot just under your jaw—where you know he can hear your heart beat.

“Max?”

“Mm?” Is his only response. He hooks an arm over your stomach and pulls you closer, precome smearing from the tip of his cock across the small of your back. He sucks at the skin of your neck, rolling it between his lips and giving you what you’re sure will be a hell of a hickie. You hiss at the feeling, and the sound snaps him out of it.

“Fuck.” He sits up, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Max? Are you alright?” You reach out and lay what you intend to be a comforting hand on his forearm, but he goes still under your touch.

Run, whispers some primal part of your brain, some base instinct that understands before the rest of you does. Max runs a hand over his face and nods, but his gaze falls to your wrist and fixates there.

Right where you know your pulse is beating.

“You’re hungry,” you breathe, and the instant you say it you know you’re right. “You need to feed.”

“I normally shouldn’t, not for a few more days. Though in my defense,” Max says with his typical dark humor, “I’m expending an amount of energy I wasn’t necessarily anticipating this weekend.”

A pang of guilt lances through you. More trouble than they’re worth.

“No, hey, it’s alright.” Max places two fingertips gently on one of your glands, responding instantly to the distressed change in your scent and going to soothe you. “I have people I can call.”

He shifts away from you like he means to get up, like he means to leave your nest, and you tighten your hold on his arm.

“Just feed from me.”

Max shakes his head.

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.” It comes out perhaps more harshly than he intends. He turns back and crowds you into the bed, cupping your face in his hands.

“What if I can’t stop? You smell so good, you have no idea how much I want to devour you, consume you, in every way you’ll have me. You smell better than anyone I’ve ever - ”

He cuts himself off with a groan, burying his nose in your skin and licking a long stripe up the skin of your sternum.

It should scare you, the way he talks. You should heed the little voice that now screams danger, predator, run. But instead you thread your fingers through his hair and pull him closer, grinding your hips up against him, and all you can think of is yes.

“You won’t hurt me,” you say, and you mean it. “I trust you. You can have me, in whatever ways you want.”

You tilt your chin up and to the side, exposing your neck to his wild gaze. An invitation, followed by words you know he cannot possibly resist:

“Please, Alpha. Take it, it’s yours.”

Max snarls, flipping you both around so that you’re in his lap, the hard length of him trapped between you. The first hint of his knot is already starting to pulse at the base in his excitement. You roll your hips, rubbing your clit along the underside of his cock, automatically seeking that friction. His hands wrap around your waist and egg you on, your slick starting to coat him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, can you take me again? Let me be inside you when I - yes, that’s it baby, there you go - ”

He lifts you up just enough that you can sink down on him, and despite how wet you are and how many times you’ve done this it’s still a delicious stretch. There’s something about this position, too, where you’re face to face and chest to chest, that feels more intimate than the other times he’s fucked you. Max’s skin may be cool to the touch, but his eyes are so warm, a rich, deep, unrelenting brown you’d never truly noticed before.

He’s so beautiful, you can’t believe he’s yours.

For the weekend, you remind yourself. Just until your heat is done. You have to try your best not to lose sight of that fact.

You duck your head down to press your nose into the skin of his neck. He has a pair of scent glands here too that match yours, larger but usually less obvious. Now, though, you can see how they’re swollen and reddened like your own, and the little bird called ego flutters in your chest that that is all your doing. You swipe your tongue over one, and the taste of his pheromones is exquisite. It makes you clench around him.

“Come here,” he murmurs, guiding you up with a hand on the back of your neck. He kisses you, slow and deep, gliding his tongue across yours like he’s trying to capture the taste of himself from you.

“Are you sure?” He asks, grasping onto his very last thread of control.

“I’m sure,” you reply, offering him your neck again.

“No,” he tells you, one hand circling your wrist and pulling the inside of your arm towards his mouth. “Not your neck, baby. Too much risk.” You open your mouth to protest, but Max reaches down to circle your clit with his thumb and your ability to form complete sentences deserts you.

“Cum for me first. Let me make this so fucking good for you.”

You’re not sure how he could make this feel better than it already does, stretched on his cock that hits something deep and spine-tingling inside you at this angle, his thumb expertly working your clit and pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

You hang onto his shoulder with your free hand and rock against him. Max rubs his nose against the soft skin just below the inside of your elbow and breathes you in. At first you think it’s a trick of the light, but then you realize his features really are starting to change. His skin darkens to a ruddy red. His brow bone thickens and distorts his face. His eyes go black, and when he speaks, you can see a hint of his fangs.

“Don’t be afraid, baby. You’re doing so well, doing so good for me. Perfect little Omega, giving her Alpha everything he wants, everything he needs - ”

But you’re not afraid; the very last thing you feel at this moment is fear. Max presses his lips against your arm, right where you know he’s going to bite you, drink from you, and it sends you over the edge.

You cry out and Max growls in triumph, finally sinking his fangs into you as you cum. It hurts for the barest moment before the pain blurs into pleasure, a numbing, tingling warmth emanating from his bite. His other hand leaves your clit and grips your hip hard enough you know you’ll bear marks from that too, pulling you down onto his cock as his knot swells and catches inside you.

It’s so much, it’s too much - you’re sure you’ve never cum so hard or felt so good in your life, and all you can do is hold Max’s head against where he suckles at your arm, breathing a litany of yes, Alpha, yes, against his temple.

Eventually, you start to come down from your high, the two of you still locked together by Max’s knot. He lifts his head away from you, blood coating his mouth, and presses his forehead (which morphs back into its usual size, shape, and color) against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You nod, or at least you think you do. You haven’t been awake long, but you’re so tired all of a sudden, and are content to fall against Max and sleep.

———

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s time to wake up. I need you to wake up for me, c’mon now.”

Max strokes a hand up and down your arm, gently shaking you into wakefulness. It takes longer than usual for you to fight your way up to consciousness, your head a different kind of fuzzy than what you typically feel during your heat. Finally you blink your eyes open to see Max above you, and you swear you see relief cross his face when you do. He cups your cheek in one massive palm.

“There she is, my pretty Omega.”

You smile, leaning into his hand, sleep already trying to claim you again.

“No baby, stay awake for me. I need you to sit up, okay? Can you do that?”

You make a noise of protest, but allow Max to maneuver you into a sitting position. He climbs up behind you and settles you sideways across his lap, one arm supporting your back.

You rest your cheek on his chest. The lip of a bottle is pressed to your mouth.

“Drink some of this for me, okay?” Max says. “Wanna make sure your blood sugar doesn’t get too low.”

“Can I keep my eyes closed?” you mumble, still so tired.

He chuckles, and you hear it reverberate through his chest.

“Yes, baby. Now come on, drink up.”

You let him tilt the bottle and it’s not until the taste of sweet lemon-lime sports drink hits that you realize how thirsty you are. You down half the bottle before Max takes it away. Maybe Max feeding from you took more out of you than you thought.

“Eat something and then you can rest again, okay?” Max says. “Open your mouth.”

You do, and Max places a square of dark chocolate on your tongue. You close your lips a moment too soon, catching just the tip of his finger as he withdraws it. You hear him murmur a barely audible “fuck” above you, but he makes no move to turn things sexual. You let the chocolate melt in your mouth, and when it’s gone he gives you another, then another, dripping a soft litany of praise into your ear:

Good girl, that’s so good, such an obedient Omega, so good to let me take care of you like this.

He smoothes one hand over your hair and you swear you’ve never felt safer or more cared for in your entire life.

“Told you you wouldn’t take too much,” you tell him. “Told you I trusted you.”

Max’s nose nudges at your hairline.

“I was so scared there for a minute,” he admits. “You had more faith in me than I had in myself.”

“How often do you need to feed?”

“It depends,” he says. “But usually once a week or so.”

“‘M sorry I interrupted your routine.”

“Don’t be,” he rushes to reassure you. “It’s…I’m glad you did.”

And it has to be a combination of exhaustion, blood loss, and the last of your heat hormones that finally removes your self-preservation filter.

“You don’t have to say that, y’know. I know it’s just…” you wave your hand weakly in front of you, “instincts.”

You can feel Max frown.

“What are you talking about?”

You huff a sigh, still not processing the potential consequences of what you’re saying, but instead slightly annoyed at having to summon the energy to explain further.

“Instincts. Like when you call me your Omega - I know it’s just all heat of the moment stuff.” Whatever combination of factors is making you loopy also has you smiling at your pun. “And I know this isn’t even usually your thing. Being with an Omega.”

Max puts a hand around your jaw and forces you to look at him, confusion and anger starting to permeate his scent. You blink up at him.

“That’s what you think?”

“I heard you!” You say, growing indignant. “I heard you that day in the elevator, talking with all your Alpha buddies. Omegas are more trouble than they’re worth, remember?”

You having overheard this is clearly news to Max, who looks away from you. And this is the thing about heat hormones - you can’t resist the urge to soothe your Alpha, even when you’re cross with him, just like you can’t resist the way your body pingpongs from one mood to another so easily, feeling tears start to prick at your eyes.

“But it’s okay, I appreciate you helping me, and I - I promise I won’t do that clingy, needy Omega thing to you. I hid my designation for so long because it was just easier that way, you know? And we can just - just go back to how things were before, after this, and no one else at the office has to know - ”

“Fuck, I was an idiot.”

Wait, what?

“I did feel that way, for a long time. Everyone always says when you meet the right person, it’s different, and I thought that was a load of shit. I didn’t want a mate. I didn’t need a mate. I’m sorry I said those things, and I’m sorry you heard them.

“And I think…I think my Alpha knew, even from the beginning. I liked seeing you in the office. I liked talking to you. I wanted to spend time with you. And then this - ” he gestures around you, “this happened, and it feels…right. Yes, my Alpha instinct is to take care of you while you’re in heat, but I like taking care of you. I want to take care of you. I like…I like having you rely on me, I like knowing you need me. I’ve never felt that way before. And it’s, y’know…it’s not so bad.”

Max smirks, but it’s entirely self-deprecating. There is a feeling in your chest that is dangerously close to hope.

“Really?”

“Trust me, no one is more surprised than I am at this turn of events.”

“So…what happens now?”

“From your scent, I’d say you’ll be out of your heat tomorrow morning, does that sound right?” You nod. “I’d rather we finish this conversation when we’re both more clear-headed. But I think it might mean something, that we’re so…compatible. And I think we should explore that in the near future when we’re not both being driven by a bunch of chemicals that make us want to fuck each other’s brains out, if you’re amenable to that?”

“I am.”

“Good.” He smiles at you, and for once it’s not smug or coy or full of wry humor. Max smiles at you like he’s simply…happy. You want to see him smile at you like that all the time. And maybe you will.

“As for what happens right now,” and ah, there’s the smugness again, as he slides a hand between your legs and cups your mound, “I have a few ideas.”

And it turns out you’re amenable to those, too.

———

It’s Tuesday morning when you show up back at work, having taken Monday off to fully sleep off the effects of your heat and get your bracelet repaired. Max had (very nobly, he claimed) offered to take the day off too, just to make sure you were okay (“and, you know, just in case we need to have sex again” he’d told you with a grin before you’d playfully shoved him out of your apartment). But now you had his number in your phone and a promise to talk later this week.

You walk from the elevator to your cubicle, oddly nervous and excited at the prospect of seeing Max again, even if it’s barely been 24 hours. You don’t spot him, and you try not to be too disappointed. He has his own office, of course, quite a distance from you, and a very busy schedule.

But as you approach your cubicle a familiar scent greets you, and while there’s still no sign of Max, you know he’s been here recently.

A donut sits on your desk. There’s a note scribbled on the napkin underneath it, of a kind you haven’t gotten since about the third grade, but it’s so perfectly Max that it makes your heart melt a little.

Do u like me?

[ ] yes

[ ] no

If yes, dinner Friday?

[ ] yes

xoxo,

Max ;)

You reach for a pen.

[Fin.]

[adrinoir]

Headcanon: Adrien Agreste is Trans? (Part 6)

First things first: Happy pride month to everyone in the community!

If you’ve followed my blog for a while or fallen down the rabbit hole of this headcanon at some point, you’ll know I’ve supported it for a long time. Sooo, welcome to part 6 of the Adrien being trans headcanon.

Here are the other parts of this headcanon if you’d like to read those: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Usual disclaimer: this is just for fun! Obviously cis boys can have these same qualities and traits. Don’t take it too seriously. These are all just things I’ve noticed. Also, I use the term "sentibeings" vs "sentimonsters" because I personally feel the canon term has a negative, dehumanizing connotation - please keep that in mind, too!

Sentibeings develop their own lives & identities

I feel like this shouldn't have to be said, but in case anyone feels Adrien being a senti-human debunks the hc, I'm writing this as an important reminder. Although they were developed through a miraculous power, Adrien, Felix, and Kagami are very much still human. Felix has made it clear that people of his kind are dehumanized, seen as "monsters," and taken advantage of which is something that upsets him greatly, and rightfully so.

This in itself is sadly something a lot of trans people can relate to. We're often dehumanized for not being "normal" and having unique/different identities in comparison to cis people who identify with their assigned birth gender.

But, I do want to focus more on the fact that sentibeings who were developed into humans are humans, meaning they develop and function the same way all humans do because this is important when talking about this hc. Adrien can still very much be trans considering he's a human with his own life and identity.

Felix had the dramatic presentation of him and Adrien's life story. Yes, he addressed Adrien being a boy the whole time, but also consider that he's going to respect his cousin's identity if he is trans. If this headcanon was in fact canon, Adrien would very much be closeted, and it isn't up to Felix to reveal his identity to others. Saying Adrien was born and raised a girl would not have added anything to the backstory, anyhow.

Gabriel could be controlling for other reasons, too

As we are all aware, Gabriel is a very controlling parent. We're directly shown that he's this way because Adrien is a sentibeing who he can control through his ring, and he's an evil, narcissistic person who doesn't care about others, including his own son. However, it is very much possible that there are other underlying reasons why he's as controlling as he is, let alone towards his own son. Like, why would he not love his own son?

There could obviously be hundreds of underlying reasons why Gabriel is so careless and controlling, but one of them could be that he may not love his son since he's trans. I briefly mentioned in part 3 of the hc that Gabriel could be unaccepting of Adrien being trans, so I'm going to build off of that.

Gabriel may not have always been quite as controlling and neglectful. Maybe before Adrien transitioned, he was a gentler, more caring father. However, we're shown in Wishmaker (yes, I know I always reference this episode lol) from Adrien's perspective, that his parents have always had certain expectations of him, most of which he's followed. So, if Adrien went against their expectations and transitioned to be their son instead of their daughter, that could've easily set Gabriel off (maybe even Emilee too, for all we know).

Why does Adrien tolerate the way Gabriel treats him?

To build further off of my last section, Adrien is aware of his father's terrible behavior and accepts it for what it is throughout a good portion of the series. But, why does he tolerate and accept it? There could be many reasons why, but I'm going to focus on two particular possibilities.

First of all, I also mentioned in part 3 that Gabriel seems like the type who'd gaslight Adrien, saying things like, “you have it so good here! I didn’t kick you out and I use your right name and pronouns!" If he is like that, that could be what makes Adrien so tolerable of his controlling behavior. He may allow this neglect and control because his father is "accepting" of his identity, enough to use the right name and pronouns.

OR, maybe Adrien thinks his behavior is acceptable due to internalized transphobia. Internalized transphobia is sadly a very common thing trans people experience. If this is something he feels, he may think it's right of his father to be unaccepting because "trans people (like me) are not worthy of others' acceptance."

Adrien's vision of the ideal man

This is another thing I've talked a bit about, but I think it's important to talk about in depth.

We see Adrien in many different identities. The ones I'm going to focus on in particular are himself, Cat Noir, and Cat Walker.

Adrien seems to have this idealistic vision in his mind of what an ideal man is supposed to be like. When he plays his role as Cat Noir, he's very over-the-top: flirtatious, strong, protective, destructive. It doesn't mirror how he acts normally, which as we see is the version of him that conforms to most of his parents' expectations. And, when he plays the role of Cat Walker -since he got the sense that Cat Noir was neither an ideal man nor heroic partner for Ladybug- he tones a lot of that down and acts the way he feels she'd like him best for, very laidback, a bit seductive, and helpful, following her ideas.

Why does he have these odd, idealistic versions of what a man should be and tosses his identity around so much? Let me explain.

Adrien hasn't had a good father figure in his life. So he most likely has had to develop this idealistic version of what a man is and follow that, switching it when he has the ability to live his second life as a hero without needing to conform to his father's standards. Adrien wants to be a man but he has no one to follow for that, especially if one of the main reasons for his father's neglect is due to unacceptance of him being trans, Gabriel will hold back as much as possible on being a good father figure and being a positive influence in his growth into manhood.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Something something about Zoe admitting that she used to lie to make a friend's and end up losing them because of it.

Where do I ever hear of it?

Oh, right! Lila!

Before Chameleon Lila is just simply a liar, even Adrien(?) reasoned maybe it's because she want to fit in.

Funny how Marinette end up antagonize her while welcoming Zoe heartily and the only difference between them is only one of them has a crush on Adrien. Guess which one that Marinette made enemies of?

I agree that Zoe's backstory is similar to Lila's canon story, but you haven't given a fair assessment of the differences in their introductory episodes. It's not even necessarily fair to call them the same character. Zoe's lying is presented as her acting different to try to fit in. She's not telling major lies about her life to make herself stand out. The worst we get is stuff like this:

Chloé: (closes the door) Since your father isn't here, you'll use mine! If you become my sister, of course. Rule number two: you need a minion. Where's yours? Zoé: Uhhh, I left them…in New York!

Which is still enough to understandably turn someone off to Zoe, but it doesn't make her a Lila clone. Let's look at why that is.

Lila's intro has her actively coming up with very extreme lies that aren't about fitting it. They're about making her stand out! She doesn't want to be part of the crowd. She wants to be worshiped. Here are some quotes from the start of Volpina to give the flavor of lies we see from Lila:

Rose: Can you believe Lila knows Prince Ali? She even flew in his private jet with him! Chloé: Why did Jagged Stone write a song about Lila when he could've written it about me? Nino: Lila knows all of the Hollywood directors. She promised she'd mention me to Steven Basielberg himself! Marinette: (rushes back to Alya's side) Lila? Alya: Yeah, she just started at our school! (points to Lila, who's on the second floor of the school with Adrien) She even gave me an exclusive interview for the Ladyblog, 'cause Ladybug saved her life once! Watch! (shows Marinette the video of Lila on her blog)

It's worth noting that this exchange makes Marinette feel jealous and threatened, but she doesn't hate Lila. She's just afraid that Adrien will fall for the cool new girl. This leads her to follow Lila and Adrien into the school library where we get this:

Lila: So you've got a little soft spot for the bug, huh? Adrien: Me? Oh, no! Not at all! (The book cart moves closer to them, but is unnoticed.) Lila: You know I actually happen to be very close friends with Ladybug. (Adrien and Marinette both gasp.) Adrien: Really?!

This is where Marinette's hatred comes from and it's justified. This scene would play the exact same way no matter who Lila was talking to. Someone is using Marinette's name to get close to people. That would upset most of us. We also get this moment at the end of that same scene:

Adrien:(gets an alert from his phone) I gotta go! I've got a lesson in 58 seconds. (Lila causes Adrien to drop his bag on the floor) Lila: So, the park? (pushes the superhero book on the floor away from Adrien's bag with her foot) Adrien: Uh sure! (runs out) Lila:(picks up the book) A vixen superheroine? Hmm, interesting... (leaves the library) Tikki: Marinette! Marinette: I know. I gotta talk to Adrien before he meets up with Lila in the park. He needs to know that she's a total thief.

Once again, Marinette's feelings are extremely justified. Lila stole Adrien's book and will go on to toss it in the trash, showing that she never meant to return it, probably to avoid the risk of him thinking that she took it. These are two incredibly negative things for someone to witness and they're basically Marinette's first impression of Lila! Meanwhile, this was Marinette and Zoe's first interaction:

Marinette: Sorry I got held up here! (bumps into Zoé) Sabine: Is everyone all right? Marinette: Sorry, sorry, sorry! Zoé: It's totally okay, but maybe I should be asking if you're okay. That was quite a fall!

Very different. Not enough to justify Marinette trusting Zoe, but Marinette's hatred of Chloe combined with this initial good first impression are arguably enough for Marinette to be willing to hear Zoe out and give her a chance to prove herself. It's easy to be rude to service workers and Zoe wasn't, so I can see why Marinette would believe that Zoe isn't a manipulative monster especially since Zoe does apologize and promise to explain herself pretty quickly after the scene where she's rude to Marinette and Co:

(Zoé, sitting at the end of Chloé's bed, gets a text message as Chloé continues to search for shoes. She sees it is a message from Marinette, and reads.) Marinette: (voiceover) I can tell something is keeping you from being yourself. If it's Chloé, we can talk about it tonight, if you want. You're still welcome to come to the Barge. (Zoé texts Marinette back.) Zoé: (internal voiceover as she types) Sorry. I'll explain tonight. (sends the message, Marinette's picture and name pops up as she does)

It would be better if Zoe instigated this text exchange, but I don't hate this scene. I just think it's rushed and that Marinette should come across as more cautious about Zoe after everything that happened at the end of the last season. Marinette's actions here and conviction about her initial judgement of Zoe would make a lot more sense if they came in an earlier season, but this is a formula show, so that's probably playing a part in the awkwardness. Marinette isn't allowed to become more guarded, I guess...

If we go back to looking at Volpina, we find a very different type of story. After Marinette's terrible first impression of Lila, she watches the aforementioned Ladyblog interview off screen and gains even more reasons for her to be justifiably pissed at Lila, further cementing that bad first impression:

Ladybug: (sarcastically) Well hey Lila! How's it going? Long time no see. I saw your interview on the Ladyblog, awesome job. (puts her foot on the bench between Lila and Adrien, and leans closer to Lila) Oh sure! I remember our instant connection when I saved your life and we've been really good friends ever since! Practically BFF's! Uh actually, when did I save your life again, Lila? I don't recall. Oh yes! Of course, now I remember. Never! And we're not friends either! (to Adrien) Miss Show-Off here was trying to impress you and everyone around her.

We learn here that Lila didn't just claim that she was saved by Ladybug, which is honestly a pretty minor lie. Instead, she's once again claiming that they're close friends! Take out the Adrien complication and Marinette would still quickly start to hate Lila because Lila is using her name left and right and that's not okay! It's also not a minor thing.

The show is a little unclear about how seriously society takes the Ladyblog, but it's serious enough for Alya to be treated as an authority who is invited on talk shows as we saw in Prime Queen

Nadja: Don't be bemused, it's just the news! Hi, I'm Nadja Chamack, and this is Side by Side. Today, I'm joined by Alya Césiare, who created the Ladyblog! Together, we'll be looking back over Cat Noir and Ladybug's greatest feats.

The Ladyblog is also the resource that Felix uses to research the miraculous. So it's fair to say that the Ladyblog is not an unknown news source. At the very least, it's being treated as a true authority on all things Ladybug and Alya is getting serious public attention, which means that Lila's little interview is probably going to be treated seriously by a significant portion of society since it's coming from the Ladyblog.

Ladybug would be well within her rights to have Alya publish a retraction. In fact, it's super weird that Ladybug didn't do that and is one of the many reasons why I hate Volpina. The episode completely justifies almost everything Marinette does and then tries to present her actions as being in the wrong by having Adrien chastise her:

Adrien:(to Lila, who is crying) So I guess you aren't the descendant of a superhero either? Ladybug: She's more like a super liar. Lila: How dare you?! Adrien: Wait! Lila! (Lila runs away) Hey, what was that all about? Uh, I mean, weren't you kinda harsh with her? Ladybug: I...I don't put up with lies, especially when they're about me. (yo-yos away)

Which does eventually lead to Ladybug apologizing to Lila:

Ladybug: I... totally overreacted and... never should've spoken to you like that. I'm sorry.

No you didn't overreact! Writers, why are you telling kids that it's wrong to confront people who are lying about you? How should the Lila problem have been addressed if confronting her is wrong? It's not like she stops lying after this or like the show treats her as a minor threat. She's literally the new main villain and her eventual outing to the class is way more dramatic than this, so how was Marinette in the wrong here? Why did the writers have Adrien chastise her?

I've seen people justify Adrien's reaction here as him viewing Lila like a gossip rag spreading lies. To be fair, that's a valid way to make his actions make sense. The best course of action for the lies in those things IS to ignore them because no one with a brain is going to treat a gossip rag as a credible source.

However, the Ladyblog is not treated like a gossip rag and Lila wasn't just spreading rumors for quick cash. She was actively manipulating Adrien and has claimed authority via a reputable news outlet. The appropriate response to that kind of misinformation IS a retraction. It IS appropriate for Ladybug to do something here. If anything, Ladybug was being quite tame! She had a mostly private confrontation with Lila and then let the matter died for some reason. If it were me, I'd be telling the world that I don't know this woman and to not believe a word she says!

If anyone should have learned a lesson in this episode, it's Adrien. He needed to learn the difference between gossip rag lies and lies that you actually need to address, which is frankly a good lesson for a sheltered teen celebrity to learn! It makes sense that he wouldn't know what to do here, but the show treats this as him being in the right and I hate it! Him guilting Ladybug into staying quiet is why Lila is able to maintain her power for 4 more seasons.

Alya could also stand to learn a lesson on checking her sources. It's not like she never runs into Ladybug. Just hold off on posting the interview for a few days.

Circling back to the original ask: if Lila was telling the kind of minor lies that we see from Zoe, then I'd agree that this was a case of hypocrisy, but that's not what we see. It's also why I never really bought the whole, "Lila is just tying to fit in" excuse. Those are not the sort of lies you tell if you're trying to fit in! They're way too extreme!

While I'm not a fan of Zoe's character, her initial lies match the story she tells about wanting to fit in. Lila, on the other hand, feels like someone with an agenda. What that agenda is I do not know, but she clearly has one and she's had it from day one. It's really not weird that Marinette came to hate Lila while she was willing to give Zoe a second chance. The characters were set up in a way where that is an understandable response for her character even if you remove Adrien from the equation.

There are many episodes that make Marinette look terrible. Neither of these make that list. The only questionable thing Marinette does is follow Adrien and Lila into a public library and listen in on their conversation. I'm not going to call that good behavior, but it's hard to be too critical when it's clearly only there because the writers needed Marinette to overhear the lies to kick off the rest of the episode. I personally would have just had Marinette be in the library already and accidentally overhear her alter ego's name, leading her to listen in, but that's not drastically different than what we actually got so it's hard for me to get too worked up over the writers going the dramatic route. That's what they always do. The show relies heavily on absurdity so it make sense for Marinette overhearing the conversation to be done in the most absurd way possible.

[shewolf-sinclair]

OKAY this post is gonna be long, bear with me.

Wednesday s2 is in production. here are my thoughts + what we know so far. -> anything in bold is my personal opinions and annectdotes. regular text is confirmed information. I will color code this by character and list in order of appearance in post. (percy hynes white/xavier addressed in italics. it is its own thing kinda)

Tyler

Bianca

Xavier

Yoko

Addams Family

Ajax - also listed eugene and pugsley (related information)

New Sheriff - Enid - Divina&Kent - Barry Dort - Dr. Fairburn (i am running out of colors so they don’t get one/each only has one mention/not much information.)

Capri

——————————————————————————-

New headmaster - who???

Stalker arc - so excited, is it someone old or new? (see yoko)

New mayor? -> What’s the deal with lucas? I hope to see him return as he became really interesting towards the end, in his interactions with Bianca and suggested past with tyler. His actor is not listed on any casting announcements, he (iman) is however interacting with the announcements on social media.

New Sheriff! Donovan Galpin’s actor is only listed as gueststarring, yet the deputy from last season is listed as recurring and in the cast picture with all the regulars for the season. This suggests donovan is stepping down or something and we will have a new sheriff for Wednesday to butt heads with during her investigation. however donovan isn’t entirely gone, suggesting he still has some part to play in story progression — likely involved with Tylers S2 story.

TYLER!! if you follow my blog for a while you’ll know I’m the tyler apologist ever. I wholeheartedly believe he was innocent (yes he did the crimes but like. mind control. i’ll link the thread here and bottom of post) personally I’m hoping we get a redemption arc. We know that hunter doohan is a season regular and major player based on his spot on the cast list. He broke out last season.. but how/why? I’m excited to see more of tyler. i love him sm you guys. -> thornhill is not coming back, as christina ricci is not listed and is seemingly univolved. the general consensus is thornhill died in her last few minutes of screentime though nothing on that was ever confirmed. I am looking foward to confirmation and what that means for Tyler, not having a master to force him to kill and all (again, ties into my previous point and I have evidence for why this in particular is important) (see bottom of this post)

Moving on: Bianca. Joy Sunday is listed as a series regular and a major player. After last seasons ending, I am excited to (hopefully) see the continuation of her growth and development away from being a bully and also hear more of her backstory with her mom and ‘morning song’.

That being said, nightshades. Percy Hynes White is confirmed to be not returning, neither percy nor netflix has made a statement, and we are unsure if this decision was percy’s or netfix’s. We do not know if Xavier is to be written out or was recast. -> Naomi (yoko) is also not returning. Naomi made a statement on instagram as to why. However, she was in last season’s promotional materials which suggests she was intended to be important. there were many theories she was the stalker. Here’s to hoping for a S3 return!-> the dias-watson twins (divina and kent) are not listed on any casting announcements nor have the twins posted anything regarding the production announcements. However, nothing has been confirmed regarding their return and no statements have been made. -> we don’t know what this means for the nightshades but I hope to see more of them this season, including inducting enid. maybe pugsley and eugene, who are both set to be series regulars - as is ajax. Personally ajax is one of my favorite characters and I am excited for him to play a bigger part in the story. enjax truthers unite!

Addams family members are also set to return. Morticia and Gomez are now considered series regulars according to the production announcements. Additionally, we will be seeing Grandmamma and Fester (Fred Armisen) as guest starring characters. The 90’s actor of fester is also confirmed to be making an appearance, though no character name has been announced.

STEVE BUSCEMI?! WHAT IS HE DOING HERE HELLO??? (I love him guys he’s so silly) -> Several other new cast members has been announced. Steve Buscemi is confirmed to be playing someone named Barry Dort, we have no further information on the character. Thandiwe Newton is confirmed to be playing someone named Dr. Fairburn, we have no other information on the character. Based on the gueststar status and Dr. in the name, there are many theories that they will be the new therapist, but nothing is confirmed. We also have Billie Piper as Capri. no further official information. I am so excited to meet this capri!! All I can say is that I doubt they will be the new headmaster because what headmaster has only a first name?? However, they also likely won’t be a new student because it’s Billie Piper, who is the same age as the other adult characters’ actors in the show whereas the students’ actors are in their 20’s/early 30’s. I think there’s a good chance they’re a siren as Capri is an tropical island. (please be morning song pleaseeee I’m desperate) -> three members of our new cast have no character names (Evie Templeton, Noah B. Taylor, Owen Painter) There are RUMORS (nothing confirmed) That Taylor or Painter may be Xavier recasts. -> All of these new cast members (besides Newton who is a gueststar I think probably a new therapist to replace kinbott) are listed as reoccurring, with Steve Buscemi listed directly under Jenna Ortega and above Emma Myers on the cast list, suggesting he has a major role. Earlier this year there were rumors or Buscemi’s casting, with people suggesting he may play the new headmaster. THIS IS JUST A RUMOR at this time. There was speculation that Weems (Gwendoline Christie) may still be alive, but with Christie being seemingly uninvolved it is likely to be false speculation. There are more new cast members plying unnamed characters, listed as gueststars.

AND YES, THING IS RETURNING!!!

They will not be filming in Romania again. The majority of the show was not done on soundstage. and was filmed in and around real buildings in romania. This means they have to duplicate everything as a soundstage, possibly limiting some filming capabilities. They are, instead, filming in Ireland.

Lastly, we have the title for Episode 1: Here we woe again.

This is all for now!! Please let me know if you have more CONFIRMED information (i will add it to this post and tag you!) or have questions on anything mentioned. I will be sharing more as things come out.

My sources include: Season 1 references, Netflix’s official instagram, The cast’s official instagrams, and these articles.

if you want my comments on tyler: (be prepared it is literally a thought dump and not organized and composed like this post. i may properly write it out at a later date idk yet)