#so I know exactly how messed up this dynamic is and that he needs outside help

[krirebr]

Still Life 2

Pairing: Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega Female Reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad...

Warnings: Heavy angst (with an eventual happy ending), past abuse (not Curtis), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, physical scarring, extreme sexism (both external and internal), adult themes, referenced past non-con (including but not limited to somnophilia, partner-sharing, and drugging), fear of non-con, the slowest burn I've done yet. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by me this time!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Here am I, the angst fairy, coming to really bum you out right before Valentine's Day! You're welcome? 😂 But seriously, friends, this is a rough one, so please read the warnings and take care of yourself!

A huge thanks to @bigtreefest who talked through so much of this with me, and @stargazingfangirl18 who helped me figure out the particulars of how alpha/omega dynamics work in this world (both for this part and going forward)!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You should’ve expected this. It was exactly what they’d always said would happen. That the government abhorred personal freedom and one day they would come to try to take everything the alphas had built for themselves. They wanted to seize all the land and the guns and capture the omegas to sell them off to the highest bidder or put them in a breeding program. 

But before, whenever the topic came up, whichever alpha was ranting against big government, be it Franco, Wilford, or your father, would inevitably turn to what would happen when the government pigs came to take what was theirs. The mindless troops would be met with guns and fire and pure alpha might. And they’d learn what happened when you messed with true alphas.

But that wasn’t what happened, was it? No. That wasn’t what led to you standing in the middle of your new alpha’s house. You should count yourself lucky, you supposed, that you hadn’t ended up in a breeding program—horror stories about those programs used to keep you up at night as a teenager. Stories whispered among the omegas, a reminder of how lucky you all were to be safe in the compound.

You hadn’t felt safe for a long time, but you weren’t sure you’d ever been in this much danger. You were completely on your own, given away to one of the biggest alphas you’d ever seen. Much bigger than Franco or Wilford. You’d never be able to fight him. He’d be able to hurt you even worse than either of them.

That was all you could think about as he showed you around his house. You didn’t know why he was bothering. You were sure you’d only need to know where his bedroom and the kitchen were. 

But still, he showed you the living room, the bathrooms, a room he called his home office. It was outside of that room that he stopped and turned to you. “I work from home,” he said, his voice a steady rumble. “So I’ll be around if you ever need me. I just ask that you knock first before coming in if I’m working. Okay?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you said by rote, but your mind was racing. He would always be here. You’d never get a break. There’d be no way to hide anything from him. Even Franco had left the house every day to go about his business, whatever that was. Sure, you still had Martha trying to know all of your secrets, but as long as you did the chores and kept the pups out of her way, you could deal with her. And as much as you hated Franco’s First Omega, she was still better than him.

At the thought of your Alpha, you swore the mark on your neck throbbed. Where was he now? Locked up? Dead?? Did it even matter? He wasn’t actually your alpha anymore. He used to talk sometimes about how before civilization when it was everyone out for themselves in the wilderness and omegas were scarce, stronger alphas would kill weaker ones and steal their omegas, biting over the existing mark. He’d laugh when he described the ravaged state of an omega’s neck bearing mark after mark until she was finally captured by an alpha strong enough to keep her. He always looked at you when he said that last part, at your mark. 

But he hadn’t been strong enough to keep you, had he? Not in the end. None of them had been.

The alpha had moved on down the hall and you scrambled to keep up with him. He stopped in front of a doorway, blocking your view inside. “This is my room,” he said.

You took a deep breath. Okay. It was time then. You could do this. You could be a good omega. You waited for him to move into the room so you could follow, but instead, he gestured to the room behind you. “And that one’s yours.” 

It took you a moment to understand what he’d said. Then you slowly turned around, confused, to find a small bedroom. Without thinking, you took a few tentative steps inside. It was bright, the sun streaming in through the curtains. There was a bed in the center of the room, covered in a dove gray quilt with flowers stitched into it. There was a collection of dusty rose pillows covering the top third, in all sorts of shapes and sizes. A plush-looking chair in a similar color was tucked into the corner. There was a big window set into the far wall. Sheer curtains softly billowed over it. Two bins were stacked beneath it. Against the perpendicular wall, sat a short dresser made of dark wood, and next to it a small closet. Across from that, you could see a little ensuite bathroom. All of it was much nicer than the little room with the thin cots that you used to share with Martha and Emmy when any one of you wasn’t in Franco’s bed. You couldn’t understand why he was giving it to you. Just you. As far as you could tell, there weren’t any other omegas here. It was much too nice for you on your own.

You turned back to him, hoping to find some clues there, but he had the same vaguely soft look on his face he’d had since you’d first walked into the room at the center you’d first been brought to. You didn’t like that look, didn’t know what to do with it. It’d drop soon anyway. You knew it would. The waiting was the worst part.

You dropped your gaze when he cleared his throat. “There’s nesting supplies in those two bins under the window. With or without alpha scent. So you can go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”

You blinked at the two bins he’d gestured to. You didn’t understand what he wanted you to do, but you nodded anyway with a quiet, “Yes, Alpha.”

He hovered in the doorway, not taking even one step into the room. “Are you still hungry?” he asked.

You shook your head. He’d stopped and gotten you a breakfast sandwich on the way to his house and had let you eat it in his truck. You’d eaten it quickly so he couldn’t change his mind, extremely careful not to get any crumbs on his upholstery. 

He sighed and you were gripped by panic that you may have disappointed him. You had no idea how you might have done that but this wouldn’t be the first time that an alpha’s expectations had been unknowable to you. But he didn’t say anything about it or make any move to punish you. You kept a wary eye on him anyway.

“Well,” he said, taking a step back into the hallway. “I have some calls to make and a little work to do. I know you’ve had a long night, so I’ll let you rest for a bit. But please come get me if you need anything.” 

“Yes, Alpha,” you whispered, knowing for a fact that you would do absolutely everything you could not to disturb him. An omega’s job was to make her alpha’s life easier, to bring him pleasure. Omegas didn’t need things. They should never be that selfish. You would show this alpha how good you could be. To protect yourself, you’d do whatever you could.

He looked at you, a furrow between his brows, then just nodded and walked down the hall. You waited for a moment to make sure he didn’t come back. When he didn’t, you carefully made your way around the room. You placed your knapsack on the chair in the corner and took out the only other dress you’d managed to grab on your way out of Franco’s house to hang up in the closet. It looked pathetic, hanging by itself. You took off your shoes and placed them underneath it. Finally, you took the little friendship bracelet out of it’s hiding place at the bottom of the bag. You reverently set it on the dresser, the little ballerina charm Grace had managed to sneak into the house for you hanging off the wood. 

You turned towards the two bins against the wall. The alpha clearly wanted you to do something with them but you had no idea what. You gingerly opened the first bin and were immediately hit by the strong scent of cedar and leather and alpha, the same scent that had engulfed you in his truck and subtly permeated this house. But this bin was like being slapped in the face with it. You couldn’t breathe. You closed it as fast as you could. You were even more cautious as you opened the second bin, but you weren’t struck by any strong scents as you removed the lid that time. You looked inside to find a collection of blankets and pillows. You carefully touched one to find the softest blanket you’d ever felt. Without thinking, you brought it out of the box and buried your face in it, as tears pricked at your eyes. You didn't want to cry anymore. It wouldn't change anything. 

You pulled the blanket after you as you climbed onto the bed. You’d been awake for most of the last twenty-four hours and you could finally feel the adrenaline leeching out of you. The intense fear was still there, but it could no longer overpower your extreme exhaustion. You wrapped the blanket around yourself and quickly fell asleep.

You weren’t sure what exactly had woken you up, but your heart was already racing. Nightmares you couldn’t remember but could still feel were wrapped around you. You sat up and tried to force yourself to breathe. You weren’t in the compound anymore. You never would be again. You wished that could be a comfort to you, but now you were surrounded by unknown threats and dangers. You shouldn’t be so upset. This was just what happened to omegas. You’d been suddenly uprooted from your home before, dropped somewhere you didn’t know anything or anyone. It’d probably happen again. Especially if you didn’t do everything you could to please this alpha.

You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself. It was one of the softest things you’d ever felt. You almost felt safe in this little cocoon you’d made yourself. Then you saw movement in the open doorway.

The alpha stood there, knocking softly on the door, something tucked under one arm. “Hey, I thought you might be awake,” he said, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard an alpha speak before. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you said immediately, even as you felt that fear rising in your chest again. You didn’t know why he was asking.

He stopped and looked at you carefully, which made you shrink down as much as you could. He sighed with a small grimace. “On second thought, how ‘bout you come join me in the living room? Whenever you’re ready.” 

He took off down the hall, and, after you’d carefully put the blanket away, you followed him. He stood in the middle of the cozy room. “Sit wherever you’d like,” he said. 

You looked at the two plush couches and the recliner with panic. Was this a test? Was there a right answer? Where would he sit? You never would have sat before Franco. That would have gotten you in so much trouble. Was this alpha trying to trick you?

After a few moments, he softly called your name. “You can sit on that couch, if you want,” he said, gesturing to the larger of the two sofas. You let out a sigh of relief as you sat where he pointed. He sat on the other side of the same couch, giving you plenty of space, then took out what he’d been holding under his arm, revealing it to be a laptop, like Franco Jr used to have. He opened it and held it out to you. “You need more clothes. We have a stipend from the Center to get you the things you need so don't worry about the cost. Do you know how online shopping works?” You just sort of shrugged unsure of what the right answer was. You knew how to use a computer, but Franco had made sure none of his omegas ever had any access to his money, as was his right as the Alpha. “That’s fine,” he said, then showed you the buttons you needed to press to make an order. Then, inconceivably, he passed the computer over to you. “Pick out whatever you like, then if it’s all available at a local store, we’ll hopefully be able to get it delivered by tonight.” Then he sat back, giving you space.

You looked at the webpage in front of you, filled with dozens of pictures of models in different pieces of clothing. The title at the top of the page said Omega Loungewear, but as you scrolled down through the pictures, you couldn’t understand why. None of this was appropriate for omegas. There were leggings and shorts, t-shirts and tank tops, big baggy sweaters, something called bralettes that you couldn’t believe they were just showing pictures of right out in the open. There were some cotton dresses that might be ok, depending on what the alpha wanted, but he hadn’t told you. He wanted you to know. He wanted you to be good. To prove it. And everything was available in different colors and patterns and you didn’t know how many you were supposed to pick out or what he wanted or– 

You hadn’t realized your breathing had picked up until he was kneeling in front of you. “Hey,” he said very gently, his hands held out in front of him but not touching you, “hey, it’s okay. You’re alright. Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

You gulped. You were being a stupid omega. This was why omegas shouldn’t make decisions. You lifted the laptop up and passed it back to him. “I don’t know, Alpha,” you said very quietly, nodding to the computer. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no need for apologies, it’s totally fine.” He stopped to think, then with a grimace and a sigh, “Would you like me to pick out some things for you and order them?”

You slumped in relief. He’d know what was okay for you to get. You wouldn’t have to guess. “Yes, Alpha. Thank you, Alpha.”

“That’s another–” he shook his head sadly. “You don’t– You don’t need to address me as alpha. You can call me Curtis, or, or anything. You can call me whatever you want. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

That was definitely a trick. Calling him anything other than Alpha was 100% not allowed. You had the marks on your body to prove it. Omegas might have been stupid, but you were smart for your kind and you wouldn’t fall for this just to be punished. After everything that had happened, you had more self-preservation than that.

“Yes, Alpha,” you said, your eyes on the ground. 

He let out another heavy sigh. “Right,” he said, as he stood up. “I had lunch while you were sleeping, but I set some aside for you. Let me go get it, And then we can” he looked around, flaring his arms to the side, “I don’t know. Watch TV, I guess?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you said, quietly, still not looking at him.

He sighed again. This alpha sighed a lot. He was disappointed in you. He just stood there for a long moment. You could feel him looking at you. You sank back into the couch, trying to make yourself as small as possible. There was another sigh, then, “I’ll be right back.” He turned on the TV as he left the room, leaving the remote within your reach, but you didn’t dare touch it. Another trap.

Franco had had a big TV. He watched a lot of sports and news shows hosted by strong alpha men that talked about how the government was trying to strip alphas of their rightful power. Sometimes there were pretty blonde beta and omega women there to say the same thing. There were other news channels too, but they were all secretly owned by the government and only told lies. 

When Franco was gone, Martha used to sneak into the living room to watch her stories while you and Emmy did chores or took the younger pups outside. You never joined her; she and Emmy would just yell at you for being lazy if you tried. 

So, now, you did your best to ignore whatever was playing until a voice caught your attention. “On tonight’s Eyewitness News at 5, government agencies raid an alpha supremacist group calling themselves The Snowpiercer Collective–” You felt your heartrate pick up. On the screen were images of the compound—the storage barns, the meeting hall, Wilford’s house. Then video of the people in their tactical gear with initials you didn’t understand on their backs holding guns and–

You weren’t sure what had woken you up first, the dogs barking or the sound of guns being fired. Emmy was standing over you, her eyes wide with panic, while Martha screamed behind her for both of you to get your lazy asses moving and get the pups. You didn’t know what was going on. None of you had been in Franco’s bed that night, which meant your little room was full and you’d had to sleep on the floor while the other two claimed the cots. You were stiff and slow and confused as you tried to get moving, still half-asleep. As you cut through the living room to get to the pups’ rooms—you could hear the youngest ones sobbing—you saw that it was still pitch black out, but then the sky would briefly light up with a loud crack of whatever was being fired much too close to your home for comfort. What was happening? Who was there? Where was Franco? He’d left the night before to go play poker with some of the other alphas, so more likely than not, he’d passed out somewhere in the compound before he’d been able to drunkenly stumble home. It’d been a relief that night, but now it meant that you were all completely defenseless from whoever was attacking you.

The three of you gathered the children and tried to herd them out the back door, toward the entrance to the bunker that was about twenty feet behind the house. But as soon as you opened the door, you were met with a full SWAT team and everyone was screaming and their guns were pointed at you and–

“Shit!”

The alpha’s voice brought you back to the present. You were on the floor. You were in your new alpha’s house and you were on the floor. The TV was off and he was crouched in front of you, the remote still in his hand. Your face was wet, tears streaming down your cheeks. You weren’t in the compound anymore, but that didn’t make you feel any safer. He was trying to talk to you, saying something, his tone gentle, but you couldn’t process his words. You were scared and you were tired. And you knew it was bad, you knew it wasn’t what you should do, but you were out of energy and you couldn’t stop yourself from curling up into a ball on the floor and finally sobbing like you’d wanted to since you’d been put into the back of that SWAT van.

You weren’t sure if you woke up, so much as just came to. There was a blanket draped over you—it’d been on the couch, maybe—and a pillow pushed under your head. The alpha must have done it, but you couldn’t imagine him taking such care with you. You could hear the murmurs of a one-sided conversation coming from the other room. 

You slowly sat up. Your eyes hurt and your mouth was dry. You were making a very bad impression on your new alpha. What must he think of you? You would have to work very hard over the next few days to show him that you did actually know how to be a good omega. You would do better.

The alpha took that moment to appear at the entrance to the living room. He held a phone to his ear. “I gotta go, Tanya. I’ll talk to you soon.” He put his phone in the back pocket of his jeans as he took a few steps into the room, then stopped. He stared at you and you dropped your gaze to the floor. You did your very best to keep your breaths even. It was always the worst with Franco when you couldn’t predict him, and you had no idea what this alpha would do.

He cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly. Before you were able to figure out the best answer to that question, he shook his head. “No, that’s– that’s a stupid question, I know.” He crouched down so he was closer to your level while still several feet away. “Look, I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, but I want to help you, ok? However I can, I’m here to help you.”

Your mind was racing. Why would he say that? To trick you, a little voice inside you said. That had to be it. Wilford had done that too. Pretended to be friendly and kind and helpful. Until he stopped pretending and you learned who he really was. You shivered at the memory of him. You’d learned your lesson. You wouldn’t be surprised again.

He stayed like that for a few moments, while you kept your head down and didn’t move. Finally he stood up. “I ordered some food. It should be here soon. And your clothes came. So if you want, you could put them away while we wait, and then join me in the kitchen for dinner?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you said quietly as you made yourself stand up. He followed suit and walked into the kitchen where he picked up two canvas bags with the same logo on them and handed them to you. You peered inside. You couldn’t see the shape of the clothes yet, but you could tell there were many items, all in soft pastel colors. 

“I had to make some guesses on sizing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “And, uh, well. It looks like the clothes you currently have maybe don’t fit you quite right? So. So these might feel different.”

You ducked your head. The dress you were wearing had been Martha’s. Your shoes had been Emmy’s. They pinched your toes. Being third omega meant having to make do with what you were given. Even as a kid, everything you’d had had belonged to your older sisters first. You didn’t think you’d ever been the first person to wear something.

You clutched the bags to your chest and whispered, “Thank you, Alpha,” before hurrying down the hall to the bedroom you’d been given. You checked each item as you put it away. Leggings, t-shirts, sweaters, shorts, all made from some of the softest material you’d ever felt. He wouldn’t have gone so far as to spend actual money if it was just a trick or a test, would he? You’d done what you were supposed to, you’d let him choose, so even though these weren’t the clothes you were used to, it’d be okay to wear them, wouldn’t it? You worried your bottom lip. He’d picked them out. This was what he wanted.

At the sound of the doorbell, you hurried back out and arrived in the kitchen as he approached the small table with a short stack of flat, square boxes. “I hope pizza’s okay,” he said. “I got a couple different kinds, so hopefully there’s something you like.”

You didn’t respond. You were good at taking what was given to you. You stood next to the table and waited as he arranged the boxes and put a plate in front of each of you. You didn’t sit down until he did. He opened one of the boxes and gestured to its contents. “Help yourself,” he said. You kept your hands in your lap until he placed a slice on his own plate. Then you grabbed one from the same box. Once he took a bite, you started eating. It was so good. Much better than the frozen pizzas you would occasionally have at the compound. And as soon as you started eating, you realized you were starving. You hadn’t really had lunch, distracted by your ridiculous freakout. You inhaled your first slice, then stared at the box, wondering if it was worth the risk to try to take more. The alpha must have seen you looking because he took two more pieces from the box and placed them on your plate. “Have as much as you want,” he said. “There’s plenty to go around.” 

After a few more minutes of eating in silence, the alpha stood up abruptly, the back legs of his chair scraping loudly against the floor. You jumped in your seat and tried to make yourself small as he briefly loomed over you. 

He moved to the counter and came right back with the little cardboard box the Omega at the center had tried to give you. You shrank back as he held it out to you. “I almost forgot,” he said, “here are the suppressants if you want to start taking them tonight.”

You froze. You tried to force your hand to take the pills from him, but your limbs refused to move. You remembered the first time you'd been sent to Wilford, the High Alpha, the little white pill he'd given you. “To help,” he'd said. But it'd just made you feel tired, loose, disconnected from your body. Defenseless when he'd– Or other times, different pills, different colors and shapes, that'd made you feel like you were going into heat even though it wasn't time yet. That'd made you need things you didn't actually want. And the way Wilford had smiled at you and– 

Your new alpha was looking at you curiously, the pack of pills still in his hand, a mask of concern on his face. You needed to take it. An alpha was giving you something. You should take it. You should take it. You should take it. “What do they do?” you blurted out without meaning to. Oh god. You were in so much trouble. 

All he did at first was blink at you. “What do suppressants do?” he repeated back to you, looking slightly surprised. He withdrew his hand and sat down. “They stop your heats, is the biggest thing, for however long you take them.”

Why– Your heats belonged to your alpha. The whole point of them, of you, was to give your alpha pleasure. And pups. Why would he offer this to you? “You want me to take them?” you whispered.

“I–” He hummed and scratched his beard. “I want you to do whatever makes you feel most comfortable.” 

You looked at him as he made his face go completely blank. It was clearly another test and you weren't sure what the right answer was. Not just taking whatever pills he gave you was obviously bad. But if you had, you would have unknowingly denied him access to your heats, which was unforgivable. It was like you were being set up to fail. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to punish you. Franco would sometimes do that too. You felt the flare of anger igniting in the pit of your stomach, but you took a deep breath to snuff it out. That would only get you in more trouble. You decided to commit to hopefully what was the lesser disobedience. “No, thank you, Alpha.”

He didn’t react for a moment and you were terrified you’d made the wrong choice. But his scent stayed mostly neutral and when he finally spoke, he just said, “Ok. That’s fine. But if you change your mind later, these will be here. And we can always talk about it again.”

You shook your head. You wouldn’t do that. You were good.

The alpha went to bed right after dinner, saying he was tired from having to wake up early to get you. You’d tried to apologize, but he looked at you funny, so you stopped.

Once he’d left you, you familiarized yourself with his kitchen, then did a thorough wipe down of the kitchen table, and swept underneath it.

When that was done, you retreated to the room he’d given you. There’d been some toiletries mixed in with the clothes he got for you, so you went into the little en suite and took a shower. It felt incredible, not having anyone banging on the door to get in next, or having to worry about using all of the hot water. For everything that was bad and scary about this situation, the chance at being a First Omega wasn’t one of them. Sure, you’d be the sole focus of your alpha’s attention, at least until he got another one, but it came with its perks too.

After your shower, you put on some of the new clothes. They were soft and cozy, cozier than anything you’d ever worn before. Then you climbed into the bed. You’d been so exhausted that morning that you hadn’t noticed much about it, but now, you felt like you were lying on a cloud. And it was so big, just as big as Franco’s bed. You’d be able to really stretch out in it when you were alone.

But would you be alone tonight? You got off the bed to peek out of the room to see that the alpha’s door was closed. You thought about closing your door, there was a lock on it, but if he really wanted to come in, all it would do was slow him down. And get you in trouble in the process. You closed it about three-fourths of the way. That wouldn’t technically be breaking any rules.

Not that you really knew what the rules were. Well, you knew the rules all omegas knew, but every alpha had their own as well. Your father did. Franco did. Wilford certainly had on the nights you had to be with him. But this alpha hadn’t bothered to tell you his yet. Another way to trick you into disobeying him.

You curled up on the bed, wrapping the soft blanket from the bin around yourself. You’d slept a lot of the day. Hopefully, that meant you wouldn’t need to sleep through the night. You wanted to be ready, when the alpha inevitably came for you. You wouldn’t fight him. The bite mark on your neck was proof enough that that wouldn’t do any good. But you just… you hated waking up in the middle of it. You’d rather know what was happening.

You turned over onto your side, trying to get comfortable, as you felt tears welling in your eyes. Again. If Martha were here, she’d yell at you for being a stupid child. You wondered where she’d ended up. Neither she nor Emmy had been shoved into the same van as you. Were they together? What had happened to their pups? You’d probably never see any of them ever again. You didn’t know what it said about you that you didn’t feel much of anything at that thought. Nothing good, probably.

You’d never see Franco again either. A good omega would feel grief at that. A good omega would miss him. Try as hard as you might, maybe you’d never been a very good omega. Maybe that’s how you’d ended up where you were.

You turned over again. You couldn’t get comfortable. This bed was too soft. You got up with a grumble, grabbing the blanket and one of the pillows and dragging them to the corner of the room. You were good at making yourself comfortable on the floor. That would be better. If he got upset that you weren’t waiting for him in bed, then at least you’d learn what his punishments were like.

You huddled into the wall and pulled the blanket tight around yourself, settling in to wait.

You woke with a start. You looked around, trying to get your bearings. You were in that little bedroom. The sun was streaming in through the curtains. Oh god, you’d fallen asleep! You hadn’t meant to do that. As you started to panic, you realized you were still curled up in the corner. Your clothes were still on. The door was exactly how you’d left it. He hadn’t come to take you in the night. You were filled with a strange mix of intense relief and something that felt a lot like dejection. Why hadn’t he come? It didn’t make any sense.

 You heard the clinking of dishware coming from another part of the house just as the scent of breakfast wafted in. Your head shot up, confused. Who was making it? Was there an omega here after all?

You got up and quickly got dressed in another pair of leggings and one of the big, slouchy sweaters. You followed the noise to the kitchen and came to a sudden halt in the doorway. The alpha was making pancakes. You had never seen an alpha cook, not even once, in your entire life. Alphas didn’t cook. That was omegas’ work. Was this his way of rubbing your face in the fact that you were already falling down on the job? Your first morning here and you’d already neglected your duties to the point that he had to cook for himself?

He turned around when he realized you were there and you braced yourself for whatever was coming. But instead of yelling at you, a wide smile overtook his face. “Hey, good morning! I hope you slept okay.” You couldn’t do much other than blink at him, but his smile didn’t falter. “Go ahead and sit,” he said, gesturing to the table. “This’ll be done in just a couple minutes.”

“I can finish it, Alpha” you tried, your voice timid.

He immediately shook his head. “No, no. You’re a guest. Sit down. It’s almost done.”

You did as he said and sat, not taking your eyes off him. This was the strangest alpha you’d ever met. You didn’t understand anything about him. How could you predict him when you didn’t understand him?

True to his word, it was just a few minutes later that he was setting a plate in front of you, along with some syrup. You gingerly poured it over your pancakes, as he sat across from you and did the same. As you carefully cut a small bite for yourself, you felt him watching you, even though he acted like he wasn’t. You took a bite and your eyes fluttered closed. These were the best pancakes you’d ever tasted. Much better than Emmy’s. Much better than yours. 

A small “mmm” escaped your lips. You opened your eyes, embarrassed, to find him still grinning at you. “That’s the first thing you should know about me,” he said, “I make really good pancakes.”

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[deansbeer]

say it again ・ DEAN WINCHESTER. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

୨୧ pairing. dean winchester x latina!reader.

୨୧ warning(s). smut | dirty talk | praise kink | dom!dean | power dynamics | unprotected sex (wrap it tf up) | slight degradation | language kink | rough sex | filthy motel sex.

୨୧ word count. 996

୨୧ kari notes. i woke up from my nap (it didn't even feel like a nap) and the first thing on my mind was dean. at first i wanted this to be something cutesy but i guess my mind went somewhere else <3

the motel room is a goddamn mess. not in the way most motels are, with their crusty carpets and cigarette burns in the comforters—though, yeah, it's got all that too. but this? this is a mess you made.

the air is thick with heat, with sweat, with the scent of sex clinging to the walls like it belongs there. the shitty blinds are drawn, but the neon sign outside flickers through the cracks, casting a dim, red glow over the bed where dean has you sprawled out beneath him.

the bed frame was already broken when you got here, so neither of you can take credit for that. but the squeaky-ass mattress? that's all you. every thrust he gives you makes the springs cry out, loud and needy, like a warning for anyone who dares pass by the room.

not that either of you care.

you're too busy falling apart beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his back as he fucks into you, deep and slow, like he's got all the time in the world to ruin you. and shit, maybe he does.

his lips are at your neck, lazy and wet, teeth dragging over your pulse before he groans, voice all rough and wrecked. "fuck, baby, you feel so damn good—tight as hell, wrapped around me like you were made for it."

his words send a shiver down your spine, but you know what gets him going.

so you press your lips to his ear, voice dripping with heat, and start whispering filth in your second language—spanish rolling off your tongue like sin itself.

"te sientes tan bien, papi…" you gasp, nails dragging down his back as he thrusts deeper. "tan grande, llenándome como solo tú puedes."

dean shivers and his grip on your hips tightens, bruising, like he’s trying to hold himself together. "jesus christ, sweetheart."

you smirk against his skin, knowing exactly what you're doing to him. he's always told you how much he loves hearing you talk dirty in spanish, how it makes him harder than he thought was humanly possible. and right now, you can feel just how much he loves it—thick and throbbing inside you, stretching you out so perfectly.

his pace picks up, hips snapping against yours, and you moan, head tipping back against the pillows. the perfume you wore earlier—warm vanilla with a hint of spice—still lingers on your skin, overpowering the scent of sweat and sex in the air. it's intoxicating, and dean breathes you in, groaning as he buries his face in your neck.

"say that shit again," he pants, voice desperate, wrecked.

you obey, but this time, you make it filthier.

"me encanta sentirte así, tan profundo…" you whisper, tongue flicking against the shell of his ear. "you're fucking me so good, papi."

he growls—a deep, primal sound that makes your belly tighten with need. his hips slam into you, and you cry out louder, now clutching at his shoulders as he fucks you harder, deeper, chasing the high your words send through his veins.

"fuck—" he groans, losing himself in you. "you're gonna be the fuckin' death of me, baby."

you laugh, breathless, rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts. "then what a way to go, huh?"

his eyes darken, a smirk curling at his lips. "yeah?" he taunts, "then take it, sweetheart."

and you do. fuck, you do.

he pounds into you like he's got something to prove, like he needs to feel you break underneath him. and you are, moaning his name like a prayer, your body arching into his as pleasure builds, tightens, threatens to snap.

the motel bed shakes beneath you, the headboard knocking against the wall, but all you can hear is the filthy sounds of skin on skin, the ragged breaths, the obscene creaking of the mattress as dean fucks you stupid.

his hand slides between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight, dirty circles that make your legs tremble around his waist. "c'mon, baby," he coaxes, voice dripping with heat. "cum for me—lemme hear you."

you're so close. so fucking close, and you know what'll push him over the edge right along with you.

so you grab his face, make him look at you, and let the words slip past your lips, low and sultry.

"quiero que me llenes, papi."

something in dean snaps.

his rhythm stutters, his grip bruises, and his head falls against your shoulder as a guttural moan rips from his throat. you feel him pulse inside you, hot and thick, spilling deep as he fucks you through it, dragging you right over the edge with him.

your orgasm crashes over you, white-hot and electric, and you cling to him, back arching off the mattress as you cry out once more, nails sinking into his skin.

for a moment, there's nothing but the sound of ragged breathing, the occasional aftershock making your bodies jerk together. then, finally, dean lets out a breathy, fucked-out chuckle, collapsing onto the bed beside you.

"jesus fuckin' christ."

you laugh, rolling onto your side to look at him. his spiky hair is a mess, his skin is flushed, and there's a lazy, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

"you good?" you tease, voice still hoarse.

he turns his head to look at you, eyes dark and hungry despite the fact that he just fucked you senseless.

"i need to hear you say it again," he murmurs.

you smirk, dragging a finger down his chest. "say what?"

his jaw clenches. "you know damn well what."

you hum, leaning in close, lips brushing over his ear as you whisper, "quiero sentirte otra vez."

dean groans, tossing an arm over his face. "you're gonna kill me."

you grin, pressing a kiss to his jaw. and just like that, he's on you again.

the bed frame might not have been entirely broken when you checked in—but by the time you’re done with it, it sure as hell will be.

[cece693]

Surfer Boy (SMUT)

pairing: jj maybank x male reader tags: not that well versed in the show, everyone's over the age of 18, adult content, attempted smut from writer, used google to research some of the show, someone requested this character but I lost the request, sorry :(

The golden sun dipped below the horizon, its dying rays streaking the Outer Banks in muted pinks and oranges. You were perched on the worn wooden steps of The Chateau, heart drumming in your chest. You’d never quite believed you’d get to be close to someone like JJ Maybank—reckless, wild, with the sort of grin that could upend your entire day. Yet, here you were, waiting for him to finish checking the surfboards inside.

You could hear JJ’s laughter coming from the shed, followed by the clatter of a board being put away. You inhaled slowly, hands trembling with anticipation and a bit of nerves. You were naturally shy, always second-guessing yourself—especially when you’re with JJ. Despite your reserved nature, you loved making sure he felt cared for. Something about how he unleashed that mischievous spark from your quiet soul...it made you want to give him the world.

Moments later, JJ emerged. He was still in boardshorts, hair an artful mess from the day’s surf, a smirk lingering on his lips. With that roguish tilt to his head, he gave you a look that never failed to make your stomach flip.

“Thanks for waiting on me, big guy,” JJ teased, tapping a finger against your knee before settling down onto the step beside you.

You shrugged, a smile quirking your lips. “I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

He leaned closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You’re sweet,” he murmured, letting his gaze skip over your face. “You don’t have to be so nervous all the time, you know. We’re past that.”

JJ’s gentle coaxing warmed you from within. A few months into this relationship, and you were still amazed that the two of you fit together. On the surface, you seemed like polar opposites: you, the shy, caring type; him, bold, larger than life. But behind closed doors, your dynamic shifted in intriguing ways—JJ, so confident in every other area, found a certain satisfaction in letting you take control when it mattered most.

“Let’s head inside,” you offered softly, your voice nearly lost in the hush of the evening.

He only needed to see the flicker in your eyes to know exactly what you were proposing. Fingers curling around yours, he stood up and guided you in, your heart thudding against your ribcage with every step. The interior of The Chateau was dimly lit by the small lamp in the corner, shadows dancing in the cozy space.

In the calm, with the door closed behind you, the air changed. Electricity buzzed between you and JJ—an unspoken understanding you’d cultivated over stolen nights and whispered confessions. You took a seat on the edge of the couch, patting the cushion next to you. JJ obliged without question, straddling your thighs and placing his hands on your shoulders. His usual cocksure smile softened into something affectionate. “I like it when you get this look in your eye,” he whispered, “like you’re finally gonna show me who’s boss.”

That made you laugh quietly, cheeks flushing. Even though you were shy outside, in intimate moments you had a way of flipping the script—lips brushing just below JJ’s ear, hands guiding him with gentle firmness. You stroked your fingers through his sun-kissed hair, heart hammering at how easily he melted under your touch.

He sighed, a needy sound from somewhere deep in his chest, and pressed his body closer to yours. “C’mon,” JJ breathed, “I need you.”

You swallowed, a thrill running through you. “I’ve got you,” you answered, voice surprisingly steady.

You let your hand slide over JJ’s back, fingers lingering along each line of muscle. Despite your natural shyness, you felt a surge of confidence blossoming whenever you saw how responsive he was—how his breath caught, how he tilted his head back in pleasure.

Your lips met in a patient, exploring kiss. You pressed closer, savoring the warmth of his skin. JJ parted his lips for you, a soft moan slipping free. His fingers curled in your shirt, tugging it up until your abdomen was exposed to the cool air. His eagerness made your chest tighten with fondness, but before you could even express this, it seemed JJ was tired of the softness. Deepening the kiss, his fingers trailed down to the waistband of your pants, deftly undoing them until you felt the cool air against your skin. Before you even had time to protest, JJ had your length in hand, and a delighted gleam lit his gaze.

“Let me,” he whispered, sliding gracefully to his knees.

His mouth brushed your tip, breath ghosting over your skin. You bit back a groan at the soft, slick warmth that followed—JJ’s lips enveloped you in a wave of heat that made your knees threaten to buckle. “J-JJ,” you managed, voice cracking. Your hips wanted to desperately push further into that warmth, but you held back, arms gripping the seat for some semblance of control. But it was JJ who made the decision for you. Reaching up, he grasped your wrists, eyes lighten with devilish command: Don’t hold back. He guided your hands into his blond hair, urging you to grip.

A faint hiss of breath escaped him, almost a moan, as he moved again, taking you deeper into his mouth, tongue swirling with focused purpose. The pleasure made your head spin, and you tried not to tug at his hair too forcefully. But each time you tried to ease up, JJ pressed you tighter against him, an unmistakable insistence that he wanted—needed—the pressure. The sight of him there, pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, threatened to send you over the edge too quickly.

After several dizzying moments, you gently eased him back, breathing hard. He looked up at you, lips glistening, an unapologetic hunger in his eyes. “Too much?” he teased, voice husky.

You shook your head. “No—just…I don’t want to finish before we—”

“Good,” he murmured, standing up and drawing you into another heated kiss. “Because I want you inside me.” There was a fierce undercurrent in his plea—he wasn’t shy about his desire. He turned, tugging you toward the bed, and you followed, heart in your throat.

The instant you both reached the bed, JJ wasted no time. With surprising strength, he hurled you onto the mattress, a desperate gleam in his eyes. The world spun for a moment, but then he was over you, quickly discarding any remaining clothes in his way. His impatience was almost electric in the air; you could feel the tension in every touch.

“Need this,” he breathed, voice rough with want, as he straddled your hips. You tried to steady him, hands coming to grip his hips but he pinned them to the bed. With hooded eyes, you watched as he sunk down onto your length, no preparation nor lube. Both of you let out a sound that was half-gasp, half-moan. JJ’s head tipped back, blond hair falling across his forehead as he took you in deeper. A rush of heat flooded your chest at the sight—he looked utterly consumed, lips parted in ecstasy.

He rocked his hips, finding a rhythm that was more insistent than you’d anticipated. Each roll of his body sent sparks of pleasure skittering down your spine, and your breath caught in your throat. “Faster,” he panted, eyes squeezing shut, a wild urgency threading through every syllable. You could see the flush staining his cheeks, the way his chest rose and fell with each ragged breath.

You tried to offer some gentle guidance—he was moving so fast you worried he might hurt himself—but he shook his head, a determined gleam in his eyes. “I’m good,” he managed, voice trembling with pleasure. “I want it like this.”

His hands found yours again, this time threading your fingers together for balance. The heat of his grip spurred you on, and you finally surrendered to the fervor in his every movement. Each powerful thrust of his hips drew matching gasps and quiet moans from your throat. As he leaned forward, you pressed a hand to his lower back, steadying him while he chased his pleasure. You could feel the tension coiling in his muscles, the slight shudder in his thighs whenever you hit just the right spot. The sounds he made—those breathy whimpers, the ragged moans—told you he was close to unraveling.

His body arched with a sudden snap of motion, head thrown back, eyes nearly rolling shut in ecstasy. “Oh—” he gasped, voice cracking as he lost himself in that powerful rush. The sight of him at the mercy of the sensations he’d demanded brought you close to the edge too, and within moments, you followed, waves of pleasure stealing your breath away.

You stayed like that, chests heaving in tandem, lost to the world. Eventually, JJ slumped forward, forehead resting against yours. The haziness of pleasure still clung to both of you like a heavy fog. When your vision finally cleared, you could see the flushed grin curving at his lips. “I told you,” he murmured, voice still raw, “I wanted it fast.”

You smoothed a hand over his hair, which was slightly damp from exertion. “You did,” you admitted softly, heart still pounding. “Did I hurt you?”

JJ shook his head, capturing your chin with gentle fingers. “Not even close,” he said, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips. Then he straightened and added, a mischievous spark returning to his gaze, “Next time, though don’t make me work so hard for it.”

A breathless chuckle escaped you as you curled an arm around his waist, drawing him down to rest against your chest. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart, the shared sense of fulfillment that warmed your entire body. When your breathing finally steadied, you brushed a stray strand of blond hair from his eyes. He grinned, nuzzling closer.

[kngrose]

i legit am in love with your bully sevika work 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

can you write about sevika realising she has feelings for us and decides to distance herself from ourself :3

bully! sevika analysis

a small deep dive into her character

WARNINGS: mentions of bullying, slightly suggestive themes

from roselí ᡣ𐭩 : thank you sm, i appreciate this submission! i have a lot to say about it.

So let me preface this tiny rant by saying this version of Sevika is entirely uncaring and incapable of having a romantic interest for reader. Bullyvika is solely interested in causing misfortune to her. I purposely try not to write her in a light that will give her a chance at redemption because I don’t want it to lead to romance. I wouldn’t deny that Bullyvika would have certain feelings for reader, but under no circumstances would it be romantic because it’s not meant to be romantic. It’s meant to be uncomfortable and sickening.

I didn’t want Bullyvika to be the stereotypical ‘give me your lunch money’ or ‘you better do my homework’ kind of bully we commonly see because I feel it doesn’t instill enough fear and discomfort. You can accommodate to having to do someone’s homework, or maybe even having to give up a few dollars here and there. What you won’t get used to, is being berated, extreme workplace harassment, or constantly having your self worth being stripped. I want her to feel like a real villain. Someone you literally can’t conceptualize a relationship with outside of the power dynamic she’s put in place.

Bullyvika has so many layers and I’ve put a lot of thought into how I would like to characterize her, and a lot of it comes directly from the pent up feelings that she has. Bullyvika is exactly that. A bully. It’s common knowledge that bullies are pent up with a lot of pain and sadness, and that usually manifests itself into anger when it’s not properly managed.

Sevika is tired, okay. There’s so many things that she is sick and tired of. She’s constantly left to clean up another bastards mess, regardless of if she had anything to do with it. It will always fall on her because she is Silco’s number two, she is in charge of everyone under her and if she doesn’t have it dealt with she will face the backlash.

Nevermind the fact that more than 99% of their problems stem from the only person Silco is not willing to get rid of.

She’s tired of being undermined, constantly under the wing and shadow of the person above her when she knows she’s better fit than them. Never given the proper credit, always given the short end of the stick. Tired of feeling like no one is taking her seriously when she’s making the most efforts and hard decisions.

Tired of the unfair treatment. How dare Silco hold Jinx on such a pedestal? How could he when all she does is fuck everything up? She’s a liability, but she gets all of the praise. Where is her praise? Where are her flowers?

But she can’t just respond. Silco’s got too much power, too much influence. She can’t directly cross him or he’ll have her head. That’s why she spends so much time at the brothel, it’s a nice place to detress. A little hate sex every now and then to really blow the steam. But Sevika is full of smoke. The sex isn’t enough. The roughhousing, the biting, the choking, the slapping. It’s not enough. She needs someone to feel what she feels. Sevika is angry, and someone is going to have to face the repercussions of her feelings. She needs someone to throw all of this onto because she doesn’t know how to deal with it.

Bullyvika does take her time to get to know you, but not in a romantic sense. It’s more of her studying your details. What makes you react a certain way, what makes you really cry, what subjects hit home? Any sensitive spots she should know about, who are the people closest to you? How can she victimize that?

There will never call for in instance where Bullyvika is interested in knowing reader any further than it’s beneficial to her; Therefore, she could never be romantically interested. She doesn’t want to know what makes you light up, or what you’re passionate about, and doesn’t care for your small quirks or micro expressions. Bullyvika is sexually attracted to reader though, and that will be touched on plenty of times in further parts of the collection, but that’s about as far as the attraction goes.

Sevika knows she could have potentially anyone she wants, and when the time comes she’ll settle down with someone she deems fit. But that’s neither here nor there. For now, she’s looking for something to break. And that just so happens to be you.

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[hollenka99]

One thing I really love about Detective Beebo is how the timeloops are, for lack of a better word, dynamic. Nothing stays exactly the same except for the location of the mansion and the 10 characters present on the property.

It means Ángel can only warn Oliver so much. Because sure, don't mess with paintings so Eugene Coli can't stab anyone in the clock room. Maybe don't head for the tower because you could fall despite the railings. Ollie, for the love of god, stop wandering off and giving Coli opportunities to ambush you, just stay close to me where I can protect you instead. Ángel can try to keep his friend safe but there will always be things that have changed.

The main reason for this is of course Coli. By having the antagonist be aware of the loops, even be in control of when a loop ends, it means no two loops will ever be the same. It's like how he takes the keys from the aquarium in Round 2 so it's harder for Oliver to get ahold of them. He is frequently waiting in the shadows. He noticed a handful of people were up on the balcony so he set off the bomb there. Oliver went into the shed when he was presumably nearby so he was able to kill Owen then ambush Oliver, hiding the photobook again.

It reminds me a bit of Edge of the 17th by friight (Spoiler warning since they are kinda unavoidable for what I want to say). In the fic, it is revealed that the antagonist, Dream, remembers the loops too and as such, is working directly against Wilbur's efforts to make the events of the day end with minimal casualties. But of course, with each loop, that's another method of stopping Dream that can't really be used again because Dream knows, he remembers and is able to think of ways to counter Wilbur.

The events within the House of Vera aren't particularly akin to this but the sentiment does stand. Coli knows everyone but Ángel is oblivious to what's going on. He can ambush them with axes or detonate a bomb when a small group is in an opportunistic place. Who cares that one of his targets was outside having a smoke at 8pm? It just means he has to be careful not to permanently kill Ángel but as shown by Oliver's death at the end of Round 3, that's something Coli has to keep in mind for all of them.

Compare this to a static timeloop narrative like In Stars And Time or Groundhog Day where everything is exactly the same every loop, only the protagonist is able to change things. This works well for something like ISAT because it's not actually about beating the King like Siffrin originally believes. It's about how their own insecurities are holding them back and literally making them unable to move on with their life. These types of timeloops also lend themselves to higher loop quantities (I think my Siffrin looped 70-80 times and there are literally articles estimating how many years Phil Connors was stuck in Punxsutawney), as opposed to Detective Beebo where they only loop what, 5-6 times depending on the ending? Which I'd say is typical of the shorter nature of dynamic loops in my opinion.

I would argue Detective Beebo would suffer as a narrative if it had a static timeloop. For one thing, Coli's plan falls apart if he can't remember the previous loops and I doubt he'd ever be satisfied if every time he killed his victims was the first time for him. Even if he was the only one to remember until the end, Ángel being another driving force in the plot would be missing. Just because he fails to save Oliver's (or for that matter anyone else's) life for most of the loops doesn't mean he's not using his consistent memory to help Oliver get closer to the answers. And besides, someone needs to be able to remember or else everyone's just looping endlessly.

Anyway, hell yeah to dynamic timeloops. There should be more of them because they're really fun.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Yan yuuta as a dad🤧🤨?

Despite his seemingly never-ending knowledge on parenting and how to balance his regular life with his life at home, he continuously looks to you for a second-opinion or any sort of advice/leadership when he's not 100% certain on what he's supposed to do.

I guess there would be a certain dynamic going on. You two would switch between being the one doing the chores and school pick-up/drop off with being the one that busies yourself with the children(homework, entertainment, giving them showers, etc).

Yuuta usually gets the kids to listen, but when they really want to put up an attitude and he can't reach to a middle-ground with them, he's looking to you for guidance.

I think he would actually teach the kids basic fighting skills to defend themselves if they ever get into a fight or bullying situation. The only thing he doesn't like about this is he decided to hide it from you, not knowing how you'd feel about certain defense mechanisms. You'd probably be relieved, but he just doesn't want that to constantly be on the back of your mind every time the kids leave for school.

Despite the parent dynamic, he's always the one that gets the groceries. You always make the list and give him direct instructions on what to get and he does as you say every time. There were only a few times he messed up, and despite him acting like it was the end of the world, you always forgave him. It's usually something small like a certain fruit.

He is also the one who usually drives the car. If the whole family is going out, he's the designated driver. The only time you'd take over is if your patience runs out, and no one can argue with you then. He just hands you the keys and lets you silently drive them home.

He's the ice cream dad, you're the smoothie mom.

When the kids are at school and you two are finally alone, he never ever can get what he wants from you until he finishes all possible duties needed to be done around the house. It's probably the quickest you've ever seen him finish any kind of responsibility.

Has his hand on the small on your back every time the two of you go out.

Ever since you two got married and had kids together, you don't let him approach people who hit on you the way he used to.

He used to have an incredible mean mug and would borderline threaten them.

But the move he pulls now is that when you and the sleaze are talking(or you're just barely bearing the company) is he lets the kids run up to you and crowd you. And then he lets the guy's face change before he walks up to you from behind him so he can step back and give all of you space to see what he was trying to fuck up.

They usually scoff or apologize or something stupid like that before walking off.

Even when Yuuta has a long and hard work day, gives the kids dinner, puts them to bed and winds down for the night, he still finds the energy in himself to be able to take care of you. You are his beacon of light and probably one of his only remaining reasons to keep going.

Everything about his life, he admits, sucks outside of his family. And the only reason he can live this luxury he was provided is because you gave him chance you really didn't have to give. And he will forever be grateful for the things you given him and can't repay you for your sacrifices in no other way but his own life.

You are everything he's ever hoped for and if it means giving you the comfort you deserve every single night until he can't no more, then that's exactly what he will do.

[ozoraslegend]

About "light" and "darkness" in Digimon

If you are a member of Digimon fandom long enough, you will know a fact: there're lots of fic crossover between 02 and Frontier.

This is not weird or surprising. First, 02 and Frontier are both in the Seki quartet, the first four seasons of Digimon franchise. And going against common negative opinions of a part of fandom about these two seasons, 02 and Frontier do get quite a good love from many fans. They also do have many uncovered, contradicting, or just curious-inspired parts, so fanfics are just being numerous!

And interestingly: 02 and Frontier both get quite same treating from fandom because they are somewhat similar outsidely. The characters are "flat" and " bad stereotype". the plot is "messed up", and the two seasons "don't have deep messages". Of course, these are false ideas, but 02 and Frontier have a specific between-line writing that is difficult to understand and sympathize. I really don't blame the fans to misread!

02 and Frontier has characters both known for particularly tight group dynamics compared to others, and both groups are known to be somewhat "chaotic" (and, affectionately, “very stupid”). With 02, that is from lack of planning or being too airheaded. The Frontier gangs, on the other hand, can and will cause trouble and will be very proud of it. And somehow escape it perfectly, of course.

So? Basically, "Takeru would hate Kouichi because of him being the Warrior of Darkness. 02 group would be wary about Kouichi (and Frontier gangs because of that as well (especially Hikari too)." is a (in)famous trope in crossover between 02 and Frontier. Let's debunk it.

First, this is out of character of Takeru. People tends to forget that Takeru is a polite, respectful and carefree person. If someone tells him "Hey, there's a Warrior of Darkness!", well... He won't react so boldful. He is actually very infamous for keeping his emotions inside, so unless he saw something really pissed him off, I don't think he will act too angrious. Takeru never blew up at anyone without some kind of good reason; it’s just that the level of his intensity was unnerving.

Takeru will pretend he has it together and has everything under control. He won't show any of his negative feeling, instead, he would investigate and find out the truth himself... while dodging questions and his own emotions. He simply handles everything with a “yeah, okay, sure! :)” attitude. Except when really needed, Takeru... rarely do things that are easily to do to solve problem, but passively deal with them when they run to his face. So if he completely snapped at Kouichi for no reason besides him being darkness-associated, that’d be really out of character.

And beside, Takeru is a quite social and generally nice individual, who treat other kindly! I don't really get how others can misread his personality in another way. Let's move to the next point.

Second, Takeru doesn't hate darkness, or have a black-and-white-morality. The thing is that Takeru himself says that he's not going to inherently hate anything darkness-related on sight (in 02 episode 34):

Takeru is pretty clear about what exactly he hates earlier in that episode:

Trying to change the world with that power...Trying to conquer the world...It's unforgivable!

Basically, he hates people who try to toy with darkness to play God, “create sad lives” like BlackWarGreymon with it, and do things that resemble Devimon in Adventure (like “dabbling” in the powers of darkness much like the Kaiser would later).

But in regards to darkness itself, you can find a proof three episodes later that Takeru is pretty understanding of the topic (02 episode 37):

...so he’d probably treat the twins with a lot of respect.

So while Takeru would probably hate Duskmon if he didn’t know more about what was going on behind him, that's obvious, if he actually learns about Kouichi’s situation and background, not only would he be very likely to sympathize with Kouichi and advocate on his behalf, he’d also probably fly into a murderous rage at Cherubimon for exploiting the powers of darkness to make Kouichi suffer! And because that kind of topic really pisses him off, he might even get more pissed off than Kouichi himself is about it.

Actually, these kinds of tropes just throw all character development of Takeru and turn him into a flat character. Takeru also would become a writer, and you can't think that he just skipped all nice characters with darkness-themes.

And mentioned that, Ken and Kouichi are usually being simplified to be just as the same as each other. Although they have many similar features, like "thoughtful, perceptive, very in touch with feelings, VERY assertive, resilient, strong in heart, and kind out of choice even when doesn’t have to be", but they are different individuals. In a language level, Kouichi uses the "ore" assertive pronoun while Ken uses the "boku" more gentle one.

In conclusion! Takeru would be the one to clarify with the Frontier gangs to make sure that Kouichi isn't dabbling in the powers of darkness for the others' sake. And then he'd become the most vicious protector of the twins. And the rest of the Adventurers would just follow his lead since Takeru and Hikari with their sensitivity to the balance of the world.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi nalyra!

Regarding your latest post about going into the tags, I've been having a similar experience to be honest, especially lately. Definitive factors are the lack of news and s01 and s02 leaving us for 4+ years with this "tale". So much so that I've been actually starting to take it as face value too. Because really what does one have to say otherwise? Hints? Hints are not canon yet so they can't count as proof -also we don't know how they are going to be used.

Promised revisits? Yeah we saw those in season 2 and they definitely did not help change the tale. Contradicting promises and half truths from cast? It's not enough to rely on. The responses are often more about how the actors interpret their characters motivations not what the writers actually write and how they see the characters.

I really don't wish to be negative but I think it's equally possible that season 3 will infact not turn everything onto its head and this is largely based on the creative decisions taken so far. So many relationship dynamics were changed to their core eg. Armand-Louis.Core events altered completely, murder scene, trial scene etc.

And may I just add here a comment about rolin and not everyone has to agree this is just my impression, but listen to the way he talks.

Nickistat is a "super emo relationship", lestat is always described with epithets like "messy" "volatile", the world "sexy" was used a lot. Emphasis is given on how this is the Monster Vampire Show where everyone is equal in monstrosity because that's how monsters monster.

I really don't mean to dump all over anyone's dreams here but when people speak they show you who they are and what their intentions are. How hannah reacted to the 1x5? That's who she is and what she believes and what she writes stems from this.

When they spoke of the 1x5 revisit they were speaking like they somehow altered the whole series and its trajectory when infact no? The scene interpretation and its fall out stays exactly the same. Has stayed the same for the audience!

In no interview did they mention about setting up how lestat functions as the hero in the VC universe, not because to use a quote "this guy is a mess" but of how horrible things keep happening to him (some based on his bad decisions but others not) and he keeps going some times with existential angst others with a joie de vivre.

They did not mention or give emphasis on how the core of iwtv was parental grief, and how it WAS supposed to be about claudia.

We cannot expect season 3 to magically alter all of That. The edited tale very likely will never change but instead "added upon" let's say with some revisits and clarifications.

As of right now 90% of the Fandom is confused and to that i say it's not because all the pieces are missing its because the pieces don't match.

The writers intentions vs the actual book arcs and characters don't match right now there is a dissonance.

I apologize for the offensively long post, of course anyone can feel free to disagree I love hearing how other iwtv fans are experiencing the series and fandom and their thoughts on the future season(s).

And massive thanks to you Nalyra for providing this space that is much needed!!

You're welcome.

I mean... I do think the revisits helped to change the tale? And massively so, because the "sales man" comment alone made it clear that there had been whole memories implanted.

Should have made it clear, I need to say though I guess, because that for example is what I meant.

People... don't take the mental step back to evaluate the tale they were told. They "waited" for the big revisits to change everything they had been shown.

And what the show did instead - was change key scenes... and it expected everyone to be able to follow.

To re-evaluate why Lestat in 1x05 did not have blood on his face outside or in the sky... but was shown in the revisit to have had blood all over - for example. Because it's an implanted memory!!! The hair styles also indicate that, I have talked about that at length before.

What really happened out there is up to interpretation right now, and I do think it has to do with the arc they try to do that Sam hinted at.

But this way of revealing things... and expecting people to have the mental capacity to reevaluate the whole show after the fact... THAT is what did not work.

At least for some.

Because I have seen enough fan reactions to know that it did NOT in fact stay the same for the whole audience.

I do not expect s3 to give us many more explicit revisits. I do expect a revisit to "murder night" because the words in Claudia's diary do not match and the revisit was hinted at before.

But Lestat did not go and contradict everything Louis said in his book - some, yes, but not everything?? - so why would s3 do that.

No the show is not the books, and yet it is.

It is an adaptation.

I do not like all of the choices... but what I do get is what they intended with the revisits and how these few key scenes do, in fact, actually do change the whole tale.

Go on, nonny, do a rewatch.

Look at Lestat's hair in Louis' memory, and notice the hair in what turned out to be a wrong memory... notice what Louis could not have known, but told of, and then... re-evaluate.

Because that is what this show wanted us to do with the revisits :)

Because it's all in there already... and THAT - as much as it frustrates me, given parts of the fandom not understanding it 😅 - is quite ingenious.

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

The Rift - Chapter Seven

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Marcus Acacius x Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: E (18+ only, explicit smut)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dream/nightmare sequences, mentions of spouse death and hypothetical child death (in the dream sequence), angst, references to smut, m/m/m/f dynamics

Summary: Each Marcus deals with conflicting emotions after spending the night together.

A/N: WHOOPS, who let all the angst in here???? Sorry about that!

Masterlist | Chapter 6 | Next chapter>>

(Moreno)

Marcus Moreno is about to die. Alien tentacles ooze toward him out of a strange crack in the world itself, moving with terrifying speed. He can choose to draw his swords and ready himself, or to shove the people beside him away and out of danger, but not both. He’s somehow both controlling his body and observing the scene from the outside as he turns to see a pretty young woman with fierce eyes, a man dressed in Roman armor, and the FBI Agent he admires so much that it hurts. They all look at him with fear in their eyes as he lets out a strangled yell and throws them out of harm’s way with all of his strength. They land on the pavement several feet away, but it’s not far enough. The tentacles engulf them, and Marcus cries out in anguish as he draws his swords, slashing and hacking frantically, spilling thick, black blood everywhere as he tries to reach his loved ones.

He throws off the last of the writhing black mess, but somehow, the three people he had thought had been there before have changed. Now, only two bodies lie broken and bloodied on the pavement–one much smaller than the other. When he sees the eyes of his late wife staring unseeingly up at the sky, he drops to his knees with a guttural scream of grief and pain. He can’t bring himself to look at the second body, knowing exactly what he’ll see when he does. 

No, he whispers as tears fall down his cheeks. No, no, no, no–

He shoots up in bed, gasping for air. He’s soaked in sweat and shaking uncontrollably, heart still pounding in his chest from the remnants of the dream. It’s only when something shifts behind him, a broad, bare chest turning and facing the other direction does he remember he’s not alone. 

He breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes his movements hadn’t woken anyone else. Carefully, he scoots down the bed, avoiding several pairs of legs, and retrieves his phone from the pocket of his discarded pants before retreating to the living room. 

Hey, he taps out a message. How’s college life?

He stands in the middle of the room, staring down at the bright screen and feeling rather awkward in his nudity, not really expecting a response at this time of night but wishing with every atom in his body for one anyway. 

He’s about to give up and try to force himself back to sleep when three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen.

M: Who’s asking, leader of the Heroics or my papá?

Marcus snorts softly.

Do I receive a different response depending on my answer?

M: 1. I am studying at the library, or 2. It’s dollar beer night at Lotus.

He smiles. 

I choose option 1, obviously.

M: The real question is what are YOU doing up so late? 

Couldn’t sleep. Just felt the need to check in on you. Everything okay?

M: Everything’s fine. Are YOU okay? You haven’t sent me Worried Dad texts in the middle of the night in a while.

Marcus begins tapping out a response, deletes it, starts again, and deletes that too. He sighs, glancing warily back at the bedroom. I’m afraid to let anyone else into my life, he wants to tell her. You’re my only success story, and I worry every day that I’m going to lose you, too. 

It’s too much to lay on his twenty-one year-old daughter, so he turns it into a joke instead.

I’m short on my Dad quota and wanted to make sure the Dad Boss doesn’t fire me.

M: You’re weird.

Ever heard the saying ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?’

The message is left unread for several minutes, and he imagines that her friends are all goading her to get off her phone and rejoin the fun. Good. He does all the worrying for both of them, so that she can remain carefree. He smiles softly and taps out one last text.

Have a good night, bug. Call me sometime. xo 

He locks his phone and holds it at his side, but remains standing in the same place, mulling over his thoughts. 

He hadn’t been exaggerating earlier when he said it had been a long time since he’d had… well, anyone really. The last time he’d had sex was during a disastrous no-strings-attached hookup after one of his coworkers convinced him to download some app and set up a profile. That was… shit, it had to be almost two years ago now. He hadn’t realized it had been quite that long. 

The last time he had a relationship was more of a trick question. He dated a few people on and off, once Missy had been able to mostly fend for herself at home, but they never lasted long or ever became serious. None of them had even met his daughter. The real answer to ‘when was your last relationship’ was ‘not since his wife died.’

It wasn’t just that no one could compare to her. It was that he couldn’t allow them the opportunity to even try. The closer people are to him, the more danger he puts them in. 

But ever since a certain FBI Agent waltzed into his office and asked so earnestly for his help, he found himself wanting to let someone in for the first time in a very long while. 

And now, to his great surprise and bewilderment, he has not just one more person he cares about, but three. Can he let himself get closer again? Can he afford to?

He looks at the book left open on the coffee table. At first he thinks there must be something wrong with his eyes, because the words all look like gibberish, but then he realizes the book is in Latin. Oh. Somehow he had forgotten that Marcus Acacius did not actually belong here. He can’t tell if the thought troubles him or relieves him–knowing that one less person will be in danger because of him.

The Heroic debates sleeping on the couch for a few moments, but the remnants of the dream still trickle unpleasantly through his bloodstream, and he doesn’t want to be alone. Carefully, he pads back into the bedroom and crawls back into the still-empty space that he had vacated. 

He lies awake for a long time, listening to the sound of breathing.

(Pike)

Marcus stirs, cracking open his eyes to see the first rays of daylight reflecting on the wall opposite your bedroom window. He rolls onto his back, being careful not to wake you as he turns over. Moreno is snoring softly beside him, looking peaceful. This is the only time he hasn’t seen worry lines etched on the man’s forehead, and he wonders about the burden of one man trying to protect the entire world. 

The Roman is already awake, piercing brown eyes meeting his with a mischievous twinkle. Marcus nods to him in greeting and gives him a small, crooked smile. The other man reaches over the Hero to run the tip of his index finger down the length of Marcus’s arm, and he shivers softly. 

“Early riser,” he comments in a whisper. 

“I have always risen with the sun.”

“Makes both of us,” Marcus grins. 

“And decidedly not our hostess.”

They both laugh quietly, not wanting to wake the other occupants of the bed. 

“Coffee?” he asks the Roman. 

“I would love some.”

Marcus helps himself to your kitchen, knowing exactly where you keep your coffee grounds and filters. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt so at home in someone else’s space; he’s spent more time here over the past several weeks than he’s spent at his own apartment, and from the beginning he had secretly preened over the excuse to get to know you better.

At first, your temporary houseguest had been a slightly befuddling distraction–his distinctive presence ensured that he looked completely out of place in every environment, and his constant refrain of “Quid est, quid est, quid est” was equal parts endearing and frustrating. Marcus didn’t often feel like a small man, but he couldn’t deny that the way the General’s broad shoulders seemed to fill every room had him feeling some kind of way about it. 

It’s a fascination, he had told himself so many times. A temporary infatuation that’s distracting you from the woman of your dreams. 

When the translators were introduced, and the Roman’s sharp wit and mischievous sense of humor could be understood for the first time, the pull became even stronger. It didn’t help that the man seemed to be a shameless flirt with everyone–himself, you, and when Moreno began spending the odd evening here, him too. 

Even so, the events of the previous night had been so far beyond his imagination that he can hardly make sense of it. Marcus has always been a serial monogamist, hopping from one way-too-serious relationship to another and hoping against all odds that the next one wouldn’t end in disaster. He’s never been able to do anything that could remotely be considered casual.

He had no concept of what last night had meant. 

He pours the coffee into two mugs–dumping a fair amount of cream and sugar in one, and far less in his own–and hands one to Acacius. 

“You are pensive this morning,” he remarks, his voice still carrying a light rasp from sleep.

“Just thinking.”

“You and the Hero both strike me as men who are inclined to think themselves into an early grave.”

Marcus snorts. “That might be true.” Might be. Everyone he’s ever known has called him an over-thinker. “You're a great tactician when it comes to war,” he challenges the man. “Surely you appreciate the benefits of analysis.”

“There is analyzing a situation, and then there is helpfully standing in place wondering what action you are going to take while the enemy completely surrounds you.”

Marcus pauses, coffee cup halfway to his lips, and really looks at the man beside him, leaning casually against the kitchen counter. He tries to imagine him in the armor he had been wearing that first night, bruised and bloodied, leading the armies of Rome with a fierce battle cry. “I don't often find myself surrounded by an army.”

“The enemy can be many things. There is a word for this, no?”

“A metaphor?”

“Mmm,” he grunts in assent. “When is an army not really an army?”

Marcus smiles to himself, setting the mug down on the counter and staring into the middle distance. “So, what do you think my enemy is?”

The General looks him up and down. “The things that you carry with you.”

His eyes snap to Acacius in shock and surprise. The man is discerning–alarmingly so, at times. Marcus’s breath catches in his throat when he responds thickly, “What is it that you think I’m carrying?”

“This is not for me to know,” the man remarks casually, raising one eyebrow. “Unless you are wanting to tell me something?”

“What are you two chattering about?” your soft voice cuts through their conversation. Marcus turns to see you padding toward them wearing only a shirt and looking satisfyingly mussed. 

“A soldier that carries the weight of his past failure into the next battle will surely lose,” the General says cryptically. 

You stare at the two of them blankly. “Yeah, I’m gonna need some coffee if you’re going to be talking like that.” You look at Marcus shyly. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” 

Marcus doesn’t know what to do. Does he kiss you? Is that rude? He wants to reach for you, to take you into his arms, but the two other men have him at a loss–how does one act after group sex? He has no blueprint for this situation.

“How lucky we are to have such a beautiful woman in front of us, still looking so well-fucked from our attentions last night.” The other man croons, moving closer to Marcus and nosing the shell of his ear. 

Feeling emboldened by the other man’s candor, he extends his arm to you, and you immediately fill the space perfectly, your head resting against his bare chest. Marcus presses a soft kiss to your forehead. With the General at his back, he feels completely surrounded by warmth–and wonders, despite himself, if he might be lucky enough to hold onto this feeling. The only thing better would be…

“Our other Marcus still asleep?” he jokes.

“The Hero was awake for some time in the night,” Acacius comments. 

Ah. That explains it. “We’ll let him sleep, then.”

“Or,” you say with a sultry smile, “or we could all three of us go back and… wake him up.”

(Acacius)

Marcus Acacius likes this more than anything else. More than any of the hedonistic acts that had come before, more than the thrill of building sexual tension between partners, is this: 

The utter decadence of sweaty, sated bodies, limbs tangled together… delicious. 

The hero lies boneless, half-sprawled over him. A man who has been pushed into a position of strength all his life, he finally appears free of all those expectations here. The General has always been able to read people, but it hardly took any effort at all to see that Marcus Moreno desperately craved the ability to let go. His breath shudders slightly on the exhale, and the other man curled around him makes a soft noise of inquiry.

“Feel okay?”

“Mmhmm,” the hero mumbles, not opening his eyes, and Acacius smiles.

The Agent, on the other hand, is much like himself, in that he seems to be just as comfortable in a position of power as he is in submission. Marcus hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off the man as he guided the hero through his first time receiving–gentle, but firm, one hand wrapped around the man’s cock and the other grasping his shoulder for leverage, his fingers always reaching possessively for his neck. Marcus Pike does not simply take a lover, the General concluded, he desires to own them.

It was that obvious possessiveness that had kept Marcus from insisting the Agent share with the others the night previous, allowing him to be the sole proprietor of your pleasure–but the way the man had shuddered at the sight of his beloved with his own thick cock down your throat gave him less qualms about the matter today.

And if that resulted in Marcus delighting in the hot, wet clutch of your cunt for himself, that was simply a fringe benefit, was it not? Oh, you were a sweet one, and it was easy to see why Pike was completely enraptured. You whimpered so beautifully when he broke you open for the first time, squirming around his cock with a little wrinkle of discomfort on your forehead. When the Agent reached down to palm your cheek and soothe you through it, you greedily sucked his thumb into your mouth and bit down gently, eliciting a soft groan from the man. 

Marcus eventually flipped you on your stomach to take you fast and hard, mirroring the intensity of the two men beside you. You were delirious, drunk on your own pleasure, but still had the presence of mind to reach out and stroke the cheek of the Hero, who was moaning into the pillow next to you. You smiled softly, seeing the other man’s overwhelmed expression, and moved yourself closer to him. The two of you were still tangled together when you reached the point of ecstasy.

You’re curled into Marcus’s chest now, your soft breaths disturbing the smattering of hair and your warm body leaving his own glistening with sweat. You beside him, the Hero sprawled bonelessly on top of him, and the Agent with his arm draped over top, his fingers brushing against the top of his pubic bone–and Marcus Acacius feels utterly at peace. 

[wickmitz]

SEDGEWICK SABLE & MITZI MAY : an overall study, part one .

discussing their individual characters, their relationship, their respective scenes, and a plethora of details found in-between.

this question is a good one! though i’m going to prematurely apologize for the length of my response to it, since this requires some extensive analysis. mostly because i feel like fans are prone to misreading and misinterpreting mitzi’s and wick’s relationship a lot in general, but also due to the fact there’s a lot of outside elements that are currently affecting their relationship as we see it in the comic. so to even begin to understand their mindset on the date, we have to rehash previous events and actually understand what’s happening within those moments. after all, like most good character writing, there’s a lot being said without actively telling the reader every little thing! it’s also important to note that this romantic relationship is very complex, with both parties involved being extremely human in nature ; prone to messing up and feeding impulses that, while understandable, aren’t exactly wise or good natured. for example, you will see some rather heavy miscommunication in this dynamic! but to start off with this beast of an analysis, let me discuss some statements i’ve seen made in regards to wick and mitzi, which are not only extremely biased in wick’s favor, but are factually untrue. these topics will come into play later! and will help establish some key elements i’ll mention again when recounting the events of the comic.

some opinions i’ve seen thrown around that are treated as canonical fact are a combination of ‘mitzi’s been setting out to use wick from the start / she isn’t actually interested in him / is merciless when taking advantage of him, and etc etc.’ -- and in order to properly begin this analysis and what’s really going on, you have to cast these ideas aside! i, personally, don’t think any of these views are true and serve as an extremely simplistic explanation for mitzi’s behavior, while also robbing wick of any actual agency he may have. he is not some helpless victim led astray by mitzi’s tempting offers and curves, and has even been stated to not be as morally righteous as he claims by tracy on occasion. he, like mitzi and everyone else in lackadaisy, is a heavily flawed individual! and that’s important to keep in mind as i go through and a.) debunk these misconceptions and b.) actually discuss the events of the comic, including the in-between we weren’t privy to as readers. i also don’t think i need to clarify this, but just in case someone out there is thinking it in passing : i cannot make it clear enough that mitzi is just as flawed as wick, if not more so! she is not an innocent party in the events, and i won’t shy away from discussing the morally ambiguous things she does either. however, it’s undeniable that she gets more hate than wick, or any other man in lackadaisy, thus i find it prominent to disprove the cartoonishly villainous reads of her character. i might defend her more than wick here, or approach her with more sympathy, but this doesn’t ever negate her wrongs and i know this. but with all these disclaimers, preamble, and topic starters out of the way, i’m going to go through these points one by one ( alongside their scenes together ) and discuss them as i see fit.

the first time we see mitzi and wick together is in the comic page introduction three : where they’re photographed together with some other noticeable faces, with a date of ‘5-21-1927’ dated in the corner. the two are beside one another and are leaning into each other’s space, an action that seems commonplace for them given how they’re depicted in the phantom bootlegger as well. it’s also worth noting that despite the rather tragic circumstances surrounding them, the two still appear to be in high spirits -- both donning a smile while flashing an almost coy look at the camera. they look as though nothing is amiss about the situation at all, honestly, and given their proximity, it appears they’re close. i’ve offhandedly mentioned to others that i wouldn’t be surprised if wick were standing in atlas’s ‘spot’, so to speak ; since he’s always shown standing to her left. it gives couple vibes! something that’s rather unremarkable since we know from wick’s own mouth that he’s been interested in mitzi since her days as atlas’s wife, as well as the implied affection at first sight in the side comic limestone. but i’ll note it nonetheless, because if this photo was taken before the proceeding events ( a likely story, since freckle is absent in the photo ), then this implies a closeness between wick and mitzi. they are comfortable around each other and are rather pleased to be in each other’s presence well before acting upon any feelings in a romantic light, unabashedly friendly before the other lackadaisy crew as well as not minding being posed so closely while being photographed together. they are on good terms and have likely stayed that way since they’ve known one another -- i feel like people act as though wick and mitzi had no genuine bond prior to the events of the comic, when it seems rather implied they were at least friends before. this also very weakly discredits claims of planned manipulation from the start as well as mitzi not liking wick outside of his money. the only thing up for debate, in my eyes, is how close they were, not if they were close at all … though now we reach actual canon events, most notably pages such as : formaldehyde, overtime, hallelujah, overture, caveat, and rendezvous respectively. these are pages that i’ll be talking about in length, since i see them as necessary reading ( and rereading ) for these two before volume two’s events.

formaldehyde, overtime, and overture are sort of bundled together for what they reveal where it concerns mitzi’s plans with wick as a person in her life. i think it’s easy to view her joy upon seeing sedgewick in the paper as an opportunistic lightbulb ; ‘good news’ that she can exploit and a balm applied to her financial troubles that had her looking at the obituaries for some levity. but i’d argue she is genuinely happy for wick too, with both selfless and selfish intent. while actually celebrating his success isn’t her main concern, i see some part of her proud of him nonetheless -- even if it’s an unspoken congratulations. though what’s more pressing is that it’s here that we see her intentions as clear as day, which is that she plans to schmooze wick’s investor friends in order to keep the lackadaisy afloat. emphasis on the investors here! her letter to wick shows her priorities clear as day, sending extra club pins and drawing attention to the desire for extra company, and not just wick’s own. when wick swindles the rather bored crowd the lackadaisy’s way, we see how mitzi leaps into action ; giving the men her full attention and chatting them up, making her motives clear as day to them while maintaining some business coyness. the real apple of her eye here is edmund church, who is poised to appear as the leading man where the investors are concerned, and even her body language is attentive towards the man. facing him directly, leaning the full weight of her body towards him …

but while doing so, she is visually turning herself away from wick. back practically turned to him and his presence all but ignored. it’s clear he’s not her schmoozing target, which implies she’s not searching for an investment from wick himself ; as though this is a line she doesn’t wish to cross, and would rather find her money elsewhere despite her mounting desperation. we also know that before these events that mitzi has sold everything she could in order to make things work, including rather sentimental items like wedding china and not limited to whatever mansion her and atlas previously lived in. to me, this shows that mitzi was never planning to use wick at all, really, and in fact was so against the notion that she’d rather manipulate his friends than the very easy target beside her. while she’s arguably a selfish character, people seem to not grasp how hard she tried to keep wick from becoming more than a loyal patron to the lackadaisy. it’s only when all other avenues have been exhausted that she attempts to use him -- and we’ll talk in depth about this decision later, since it wasn’t an easy choice, much less something she decided to do without some inner turmoil in her heart. and while yes, her exploiting wick’s investors is her using him to a degree, it’s worth noting that ( and i cannot stress this enough ) wick was more than well aware of her intentions and brought the men along anyway. he feeds these men to this lady he fancies, something church will call him out for in caveat and something borderline confirmed in overture itself. wick is hardly the idiot people make him out to be! he may be prone to obliviousness, but he’s no toddler who fails to understand even the most obvious social cues. at this point in the comic he trusts mitzi completely ; unfazed by the rumors she killed atlas and believing her incapable of violence due to how long he’s known her. he thinks her kind, he thinks her graceful, and his fondness for the widow is palpable in most of their early scenes … and even somewhat during the time in which their bond is strained.

in fact, the first time mitzi acknowledges wick’s presence beside her is when wick pipes up to offer her advice on how to win church over. not only is he aware of what she’s doing, he is now actively encouraging it by offering up tips and tidbits he probably learned himself when securing church’s investment, all while he smiles and leans towards her, a flirtatious and admiring nature about him.

sedgewick sable may be one of the kindest men in lackadaisy, but he’s still a capitalist at his core, someone who knows how important money is and is used to the give and take society he’s a part of. and while he’s still helping mitzi here, there’s also little denying the fact that he’s doing this to garner brownie points with her … there is some self interest he’s serving here, even if he’s rather sweet about it. as church so eloquently puts it, wick essentially tried to “charge in with ( his ) group of shareholders in a great display of concern for the lady.” and while wick vaguely denies this claim, i think it’s more than obvious that’s exactly what he tried to do here, especially given how quickly he admits it’s “difficult to resist a damsel in distress,” while adorning a rather sly look. what happened here is wick was bluntly called out for his readiness to use the investors so he could get in good with mitzi, appease her and impress her in some way, and he seems rather shameless about this intent thus far. many fans misinterpret this scene, due to being fiercely protective of wick and quick to sense church’s antagonistic role. and just to be clear, when i say antagonistic, i mean that he is the voice of opposition against something that wick’s arc is all about ( i.e. being in a relationship with mitzi ). because of this, fans are inclined to dismiss everything that church says as patently untrue. however, i find it pertinent to reassess church’s specific wording. when he speaks to mitzi in overture, he calls her business ‘criminal reputations’, and though mitzi is able to win him over enough that he stops complaining, he goes right back to his original opinion come caveat, where he states that ‘there’s no reason any of us should have an interest in illegitimate business’. what church says next, however, is curious ; he brings up both mitzi’s reputation and wick’s, pointing out just how incongruous they are, and spells out for him that if he’d like to associate with criminals, then he is in the wrong career. at no point does church tell wick not to have feelings for mitzi nor to pursue them -- what i believe church is essentially reminding wick of is that people will notice his associations with the lackadaisy if he decides to mix business and pleasure like he did tonight. after all, what wick has done, in the simplest of terms, is try to goad his investors into making an objectively harmful business decision so that he could get in good with a woman he fancies. the problem is hardly that wick goes to the lackadaisy ( after all, church and the other investors do go to speakeasies! ), or even that he has a clear interest in mitzi may. rather, church is warning wick against letting his personal feelings guide him into making poor decisions in his business.

it’s not shown how wick reacts to church’s advice, but seems to initially dismiss it, as he spends the rest of his time ushering them away and paying for viktor’s medical bills, an action he does partly due to wanting to look good in front of mitzi once again. while i believe wick would’ve paid them anyway ( he couldn’t ever just let viktor die ) i still find it interesting how the comic highlights ivy using mitzi against him and this working effortlessly. he stops asking questions and stops debating about the ethics of taking viktor to the hospital and merely pays the doctor when quackenbush gets there … before scrambling off to make himself useful at the little daisy.

all of this is to say that wick is hardly some helpless victim who was being used against his will here. he had something to gain from this too and helped these events unfold, completely aware of mitzi’s desire to win over his investors for her own needs. wick’s knowledge of this will come back into play soon enough, although we’re going to talk about mitzi real quick, as well as the comic page rendezvous.

after the events of killjoy, mitzi’s already dire situation takes a turn for the worse due to unseen circumstances, with many things falling at her feet at once. the last vestiges of their reputation has been tarnished alongside what was a golden opportunity, the lackadaisy is trashed and destroyed, she finds out that mordecai has taken all their arsenal, viktor is shot to hell, and had it not been for the presence of a stranger, the likelihood of her, rocky, and zib kicking the bucket was too likely to be comfortable. naturally, mitzi seems composed during these stressful events, keeping her cool as best she can and acting unfazed by what was imminent danger ; to a degree, this show of apathy is genuine, in the sense that mitzi is unafraid of death and physical harm. she made the choice to stay in the lackadaisy despite knowing she’d be safer on the other side of those doors, and in loggerhead she even implies she’d rather take the risks and die because allowing the lackadaisy to fade out of existence is a ‘sadder fate’ in her eyes. i don’t think i need to talk in length about how unhealthy this mindset is or how much this demonstrates mitzi’s obsession -- her selfishness to cling onto her husband’s ruinous legacy is so severe that she would even be happier perishing in its place, an almost passive suicidality mindset that i don’t see touched upon often. but for all her nonchalance about shootouts, there’s this worsening tiredness and despair that clings to her eyes and gestures when the pig farmers are slain. forced to do nothing else but accept the grim reality of such a brutal aftermath and see viktor’s awful state for herself, another blow she gets to see up close. they could’ve lost everything here, and they almost did! it’s a devastating end to a once hopeful evening, one that has her aimless and with no real plans for a future. i don’t think mitzi even thought to use wick even upon hearing about his offered charity, yet i believe we see the exact moment when such a thought crosses her mind ; maybe not for the first time, but here is when the idea becomes too tantalizing to ignore. she’s out of options and wick is there, like always, and mitzi’s desperation ( her grief ) eclipses any care she has for wick in a singular moment that changes their dynamic completely.

we’re finally at rendezvous, which is probably the most important page ( or at least one of the most integral pages ) to wick and mitzi’s relationship. a lot happens here between these two characters despite the simplicity of their actions, after all, chatting for a little and then kissing isn’t much to sneeze at plot wise. but what’s pressing here is the visuals and the dialogue rather than their actions. we start off with mitzi entering the little daisy cafe and catching wick tidying up the mess rocky and freckle created when they ran through the building ; he’s obviously waiting around to hear of viktor’s condition and doing something useful with his hands in the meantime, having been interrupted from where he’d been staring at atlas’ picture on the wall. miss may makes light of his ‘raiding’ and says she could’ve just made him something to eat if he really wants and wick responds in kind, sarcasm and banter exchanged briefly before they touch upon the events unfolding around them. mitzi expresses her gratitude and ensures she’ll pay wick back ( something she says without being prompted to ) before telling a curious wick about viktor’s condition. unable to help himself further, he asks mitzi what happened tonight, to which she remains silent -- wick realizes he’s better off not knowing and relents with a smile, to which we get this line from mitzi.

there’s a properness to this, where she goes as far as to stop using his nickname to address him as sedgewick instead. her paw reaches up to begin fiddling with her necklace ( something she does whenever thinking or reminded of atlas ) and before she can finish her thought, her attention is forced from wick onto the very picture he’d been staring at previously. my opinion on this scene is that, for all intents and purposes, this reads like some sort of formal rejection ; flavoring in ‘you’re so kind’s and ‘such a swell man, you are!’s before ending with your resounding no, so to speak. i think in this moment, mitzi was going to be honest with wick instinctively, especially after he saved her some trouble despite not having to. ”and i would hate to …” use him? lead him on? seemingly promise something she’s incapable of delivering upon? maybe she suspects he paid for viktor’s bills to win her over ( a semi correct assumption ) and wants to clear the air on that. say that while she’s thankful and while wick is an amazing person, he won’t be ‘getting’ anything out of this from her … not right now. i’ll talk more about how i believe mitzi views wick in a moment, but all in all i struggle to see what else she would’ve been trying to say here if not some kind of soft rejection. values his loyalty and kindness too much to lead him on in that way, or take advantage of him -- until she isn’t, which just happens to be obvious in this next scene. i need it on record that visually this is one of the most compelling scenes in all of lackadaisy to me! there is something so disturbing about it, somber, an eerie feeling that something is amiss and that mitzi’s state of mind is undeniably poor. that her view of things is clouded and warped, and this will overshadow any of her true thoughts or feelings due to this skewing of priorities.

and here we have this brief moment, a single panel of silence that doesn’t last more than a second perhaps, before mitzi ultimately kisses wick. what we see visually is wide, doll eyes staring at atlas -- her husband framed in time and sat at the little daisy cafe, surrounded by men who admired and feared him in equal measure, successful, and ‘looking’ down at her. seeing him renders her speechless, only roused from this heavy stare down when wick replaces atlas with his own face ; confused and worried, not at all similar to the emotionless expression she was taken by, but it’s interesting nonetheless. it’s only then that mitzi pushes into wick and kisses him! and i think this very scene is when mitzi not only thought to use wick, but was far gone enough to actually do so as well. there’s a lot of things to be potentially dissected from this scene! mitzi’s obsession with atlas, how she’s far gone enough to ruin a friendship just for his sake ( and for her own as well ) … or the fact wick seems to be her new direction, shallowly filling what space atlas has left behind, perhaps easing her loneliness and money woes all the while. this scene is never discussed and it’s criminal it isn’t, when there’s so much being said here in the silence of it all. she is haunted and tormented and all she can see is atlas, and after everything that’s happened to her and the lackadaisy, wick becomes an avenue and a tool for the sake of it. it’s not a kiss she seems to even enjoy and it looks as though it’s entirely impulsive and forced on her end.

with comics, it’s finicky to decipher what happens between panels, but what’s obvious here is that wick doesn’t respond to her advance immediately, which causes mitzi to pull back. she apologizes vaguely, giving a dismissive ‘i do that sometimes,’ something that’s probably not even true given how valiantly mitzi loathes feeling like a ‘harlot’, so to speak. she’s obviously trying to brush this incident aside ; either having come to her senses and being rightfully embarrassed or taking his unresponsive nature as her having read him wrong. feigns aloofness when wick asks what she does so often exactly, still distant by all means, and had it not been for the olives and their forced proximity, she might’ve made her leave. as quickly as the impulse came, it had left, and i don’t think it’s out of the realm of possibility to think mitzi quickly regretted her actions here due to how emotionally driven they were. but instead she lingers and stays, and then ( in my eyes, given the composition of the pose ) wick yanks her into another kiss now that the surprise has worn off. after all, he did want this! she had caught him off guard is all. it’s worth noting she looks more at ease with this kiss, knowing it’s reciprocated and enjoying it as a passionate thing led by wick rather than herself. maybe she can excuse it now, her attempt to use him, since he’s ‘leading’ so to speak. regardless, this is where rendezvous ends … however, i want to address one more thing before i move on completely.

there’s no true way of telling what happened after this comic page due to the morning timeskip we experience. all we know is that wick eventually went home, after being out ‘later than usual’, which could imply he stayed for a lengthy period of time after or could simply be referring to the fact he didn’t leave with bix at first. i’d argue the earlier assumption based on the fact wick technically ‘left early’ anyway due to the raid, but that’s besides the point. people seem to believe that mitzi selfishly dropped this investment deal onto wick, that it was solely her idea, yet we see multiple times in volume two that this isn’t the case at all -- and that wick not only agreed to meet with her, but seemingly for the purpose of talking about his potential investment. here we have wick acknowledging he made last minute plans in grindstone, as well as mitzi heavily implying wick was very much into the idea of investing in her business last night in doublet :

wick never refutes these claims and the narrative does nothing to disprove this either. so it’s safe to assume that either during their necking or thereafter, one of them brought up the idea of wick investing and they both seemed eager about the prospect, enough so to agree upon meeting later in order to discuss the actual details. once again, wick is well aware of mitzi’s intention during the events of her date, an intention she barely bothers hiding because they’ve agreed to talk about it, and we’ll put a pin in that for later. now that we’ve actually concluded the canon events leading up to volume two ( as well as some moments in between ) i’ll briefly talk about mitzi’s and wick’s feelings during this time.

one of the biggest problems they’re facing currently, and one that will worsen over time, is that neither of them are on the same wavelength here. there is undoubtedly mutual attraction between them as well as affection, but how they view and understand these emotions is where they stay divided. we have sedgewick sable who’s well aware of his feelings ( or, in time, thought he was anyway ), has been since meeting mitzi for the first time, and is so bold in his fondness that he lingered inside her circle despite her marital status. he knows he wants mitzi romantically or at the very least casually … everyone around him can tell this too. it’s not some secret or taboo sin wick is prone to shying away from! he doesn’t even care about the rumors or her widow status -- or how bad it would look to be public with her given the mysterious and illegal circumstances she’s surrounded in. he desires to impress and woo her on top of being helplessly smitten.

where they seem to differ is that while wick is keenly aware of his attraction, mitzi is not. or, more accurately, has no clarity to which she can view it and understand it for what it is. during the events of the comic, she’s long since rewritten her memories of atlas and has painted them in this golden picture of pure happiness and true love and joy … she’s romanticized her past with him, purposefully forgetting things in order to maintain this ‘i had a fairytale life when i was married to atlas’ viewpoint. we see how this perspective affects even the most major of things, like the way mitzi casually spits in the face of her old life with the band, now adamant about the fact she was miserable then and felt just oh so disgusting while performing. while i believe some of those feelings are true, i also believe that mitzi is inherently devaluing things that aren’t related to atlas due to a mixture of obsession and grief she’s not looking in the eye. when you lose someone you love or loved, the sudden hit of loss makes it very easy to morph the person in your mind into someone perfect and godly. mordecai has likely done the same thing. it’s simple to deal with heartbreak in that way, to better love someone when they’re dead and gone with only memories and photos and feelings left behind as evidence they were ever there at all. in many ways, mitzi can’t comprehend atlas anymore, and has channeled her wounds into this constant conflicting fixation instead of something to heal. so, naturally, she is not thinking about herself -- her desires, her wants, her thoughts, or her feelings ; it's a chorus of atlas and the lackadaisy instead. mitzi isn’t in the space of mind to inspect her feelings towards wick and figure out whether she likes him or not … not when all she cares about is her priority. it also doesn’t help that zib, the person who arguably knew her best ( but doesn’t know her anymore despite how they both pretend otherwise ), immediately accuses her of using wick at the very beginning of volume one.

again, zib isn’t wrong and it turns out his fears are more than valid! but it’s worth saying that mitzi’s clouded mind is already having the notion of ‘you don’t care for wick like that, you’re just using him’ shoved into her brain as evident fact from someone who’s important to her. while she fancies him and would, in another world, be more than eager to engage in frivolous courting and romantic inclinations, i don’t think she herself knows that. but if she did take a moment and examine what she’s doing and how she feels now, she’d probably dismiss all that and be more than convinced that she’s manipulating wick, utilizing his attraction to her while having none of her own in order to steal some much needed money from his pockets. like i mentioned in this post, mitzi likely believes atlas was her one true love and that she’d never love again, furthering this notion of her accidentally puppeting her own emotions to be more understandable in her eyes. this ( coupled with guilt for using wick so brutally ) is also why she appears to almost avoid romance entirely during their ‘date,’ only ever resorting to such overt flirtation when desperately trying to get wick to talk to her about what she needs to talk to him about. her methods and actions during those events are more calculated, as was her initial kiss in rendezvous. it’s also worth noting the next time we see mitzi is while she’s getting ready, sat at her vanity and looking particularly small and numb. it’s giving some levels of dissociation! this is not the expression of someone who’s remembering the events of last night fondly, which sadly includes the kiss between her and wick.

but still, we as the audience know she likes him subconsciously. we cannot always trust her perspective and instead need to analyze and look at the little things to infer if her views and genuine feelings align. her constant fondness for wick shows itself even during moments where mitzi believes she is uncaring. she is usually smiling at the mention of wick or from being around him, will casually touch him affectionately, and is visibly enjoying the act of posing with him in photomajig. everything i’ve previously said more than proves she cares for him to a rather utmost degree too. like most of their relationship and respective characters, these two extremes can coexist in their own unique way, and i wholeheartedly believe they do. i’ll also acknowledge that i haven’t talked about wick much, but don’t worry! we will get there in volume two soon enough, which i will now be covering and analyzing in detail as well.

as mentioned previously, the next time we see mitzi is after the events of last night, likely sometime in the afternoon given later events. she is putting in her earrings while sat at her vanity, surrounded by a seemingly endless supply of photos ( another metaphor for the past and how it never really leaves her alone ) as she looks on with an apathetic sort of misery. she gets up and totes around a tommy gun which she then shows off to the portrait of atlas in her ( still his ) office ; giving him a rather generous debriefing that leaves out some integral details, like viktor being shot, before harping more on mordecai and how she needs to deal with him so things won’t get worse. the only mention of wick here is her telling atlas that it ‘wasn’t a total loss,’ though her rather kicked expression, as well as how quickly she brushes past the details of that, implies she isn’t satisfied with the state of things. i also find it interesting how little she admits to the deterioration of things here, before the portrait of her dead husband, because while this can be seen as tracy not wanting to recount all the events we’ve just seen, i think there’s a level of avoidance here too. mitzi isn’t keen on vocally admitting to how bad things are, how much was lost last night -- perhaps due to the fact she’ll be forced to confront the actual helplessness of her situation, and realize that things aren’t exactly fixable as it stands. there’s actually very few instances where she willingly shares her feelings or talks about the state of the lackadaisy to anyone, and the few times she actually does so, it’s either a.) a weapon to utilize against someone else, like some kind of guilt trip, or b.) it bursts out of her like a dam. she is extremely private and reserved where it concerns her emotions, always wishing to appear competent and above things, and in my opinion, it’s something worth noting. after this, she decides to call the maribel hotel and confront asa about his and mordecai’s involvement in last night’s tragedy.

the phone call itself plays out, in the most simplistic of terms, with mitzi’s desire to discuss things being disregarded as asa avoids her through various means. he questions why she’s bothering with such low quality hooch, and upon mitzi trying to bring the conversation back to the original topic ( aka why asa would do this ), he then pries about the lackadaisy’s desolate state before telling her to quit before things worsen. mitzi expresses confusion, but once again isn’t able to form an entire sentence due to asa abruptly ending the call after deciding for her that they’ll just discuss this over lunch. all in all, it’s an extremely rude and frustrating exchange. and sadly this won’t be the only time today where mitzi tries to talk to someone about a rather pressing topic, one very important to her and the wellbeing of her establishment, only to be dismissed at almost every turn until the very end of things.

in the next page, mitzi is depicted silently stewing in a chair much too big for her, glaring daggers at nothing in particular, more than angry at her failure of a phone call. she is unresponsive to rocky’s rambling, including the potential hiring of freckle, and only rouses herself out of her irritation when realizing she can bring the two boys along in some sort of display of power. it’s a rather weak and grasping attempt at maintaining some level of control, especially when she outright tells asa why rocky and freckle are there : “you see, my circumstance isn’t quite as hopeless as you -- ” it’s a very obvious posturing, a weak show with nothing really backing it. neither asa or mordecai are impressed or swayed by this at all, with mordecai even calling out that rocky is some band member rather than some gun for hire. his insults rub salt into mitzi’s wounds ( which is why she believes asa brought mordecai at all ) and only then does she discuss viktor’s awful state, a hasty guilt trip that quickly loses its shine the longer she drags it along. while i may view mitzi through a more sympathetic lens than most and hardly believe her major flaw to be manipulation, she is still capable of it and will stoop so low when it may benefit her, or perhaps whenever it makes her feel a bit better. and this brief interaction with mordecai is one such case.

the overall contents of the lunch and the car scene thereafter proves rather irrelevant to my topic, so instead of summarizing how it goes ( poorly, it goes poorly! ) i’ll be talking about certain events that will matter later, or will help us understand where mitzi is at mentally by the time she actually meets wick for their planned visit. the major components being how asa treats mitzi during this impromptu meeting and the state mordecai leaves her in after they discuss atlas.

to touch upon asa’s treatment of mitzi, even from as early as the phone call we see that mitzi is forced to have a conversation with asa on his terms rather than her own terms. mitzi sets out with a clear goal in mind -- learning why asa sweet would attack the lackadaisy in the way that he did -- and she's repeatedly talked over and threatened, with her questions remaining unanswered. it’s very clear very quickly that asa doesn’t respect mitzi nor view her as someone worthy of his time like atlas was, and almost appears to approach her in a misogynistic manner. he demeans something as simple as her ukulele as a ‘teeny little guitar’ and acts as though mitzi’s tears would be bothersome to him, some sort of burden he’d be forced to deal with rather than a valid emotional response to threats, degradation, and the likes. while asa is by no means wrong with some of his observations, he’s certainly rude and uncaring with how he goes about it. when he tells mitzi that he’s here to suggest that she step down, because he so generously has her interests in mind, she doesn’t buy it ; once again bringing up last nights events, where asa willingly armed the pig farmers with the lackadaisy’s arsenal and sent them over her way without so much as a warning. asa dismisses this coldly, once again dodging any fault and claiming it was ‘happenstance’ and entirely mitzi’s own doing. even now, when he’s actively threatening her and making it clear they won’t stay friendly if she keeps trying to make it in this business, he still won’t fully admit to any sort of responsibility for the disastrous night he helped put her through. while this seems rather typical of asa given his disrespectful streak ( something even mordecai, as valued and as useful as he is, suffers because of ) it’s worth noting that this side of him is new to mitzi and not one she was at all expecting. she even says as much here, in heartstrings :

we also know that mitzi only met atlas due to her performing at the marigold speakeasy first, and it’s likely asa was rather present in her life due to his bond with her now husband. asa even admits that mitzi may be confused because they’ve ’managed a friendly coexistence for so long,’ once again hammering home this idea that up until this point, asa was indeed kind to mitzi, or at the very least cordial. but with atlas out of the picture and mitzi trying to take his position, suddenly asa is more than okay with getting her killed or taking all she has left -- even his plan is nothing short of apathetic and cold, an afterthought, expecting her to give up something important to her and only offering a one time offer to play at the marigold room ‘sometime’ with that ‘old band of hers.’ i’ve actually seen some people claim this was a valid out for mitzi to take, which i can’t disagree more with, since a.) her band days are not something mitzi is interested in anymore and b.) she’s sold basically everything to keep the lackadaisy afloat, meaning she’d be more than poor if she gave that up. playing once or maybe twice at the marigold room wouldn’t save her financially! it wouldn’t do anything for her at all, besides giving mitzi some sort of last hurrah in her mata hari dress, something that doesn’t even fit her anymore. while it’s clear to anyone that she needs to let go of the past in order to be happy, accepting this poor excuse of a deal from asa is just her trading one past in for another one. this is also why zib’s out, while certainly better, isn’t something good for mitzi either. but that’s another post on its own, so i’ll leave it alone for the time being. what’s important here is that mitzi is ruthlessly betrayed by a man who used to like her and is treated as a lesser thing due to his view that she’s too incompetent to run a rumrunning business. he also brings up atlas to, in mitzi’s eyes, ‘intimidate ( her ) into agreeing with him,’ and towards the end of the lunch, she looks particularly kicked and undoubtedly hurt. she leaves this meeting that could’ve stayed a phone call with a potential enemy made and with the world on her shoulders, now more determined than ever to be someone people like asa would be forced to respect. instead of being dissuaded, she’s been encouraged, and it’s not hard to realize why.

her scene with mordecai leaves her in a similar predicament after their very brief truce is broken, with him perpetuating asa’s threats as well as saying, “as though you could bring the remains of atlas’ estate to anything but further disgrace,” before promptly leaving. these words, plus the subject matter and who said them, leaves mitzi staring out the car window and actually brings her to literal tears. her eyes are suddenly watery, and when rocky tries to make her feel better, we see one paw hastily wipe at one eye in particular -- already having spilled a tear or two by the time her hires have made their way back into the car. i cannot stress enough that throughout the entirety of this brief arc, mitzi has been constantly ridiculed and told she is not good enough at this job to be doing it, on top of the extremely sensitive subject of her husband being brought up twice over, which only served as one more jab to be made at mitzi’s expense. she desperately wanted the lackadaisy to work before, some sort of memento to atlas that she could keep going, and being told to let go of it in such a harsh way isn’t going to have the intended outcome. most people become vindictive and determined when told something is ‘impossible’ or that they won’t ever be able to accomplish what they want because they’re too incompetent to do it, they see this as a challenge, they get angry, and they start fighting harder for the goal in question. it’s rather human : to be fueled by wounded pride and to want so badly to prove others wrong, to taste the victory of accomplishing something deemed impossible, to warrant the respect of your peers … mitzi is all that and then some, since she’s gripped by an obsessive grief that refuses to let her go.

she wants to do this for atlas, she needs to do it for atlas, and there is no life or goal outside of the one in front of her. again, as mentioned paragraphs before, she’s made it clear she’d rather die than see the lackadaisy wither away into nothing. asa’s and mordecai’s threats, their insults, were never going to do anything except push mitzi further down the path she’s already on. and with the added bonus of mitzi now being in an extremely fragile emotional state ( one she hasn’t had a single break from since last night ), this then causes her decision making skills to be finicky ; more likely to make rash calls and to act desperately, rather than thinking clearly and with her head. mitzi does her best to sweep her fraying mental state under the rug for the sake of business, with the comic page haggersnash providing the visual of her reapplying her makeup near the traitorous eye and she even goes as far as to change her clothes, though there’s no denying the perpetual state of misery clinging to her character moving forward. and like we’ll see in wick later, mitzi probably also didn’t get much sleep last night herself. that paired with the nonstop events that refuse to work in her favor, and the occasional mental breakdown, is more than enough to reiterate for a final time that she is not well, despite how good she is at appearing so.

shutting the door on mitzi and her no good very bad day, we then shift back into wick in the second and final part of this essay.

[fyodoro]

Windy Day

With Yanqing (fluff/comfort & reverse-comfort)

Reader is Tingyun’s pupil, Yanqing and Jing Yuan have father-son dynamics, author hates windy days and projects that here

Cw) abandonment issues if you squint, yanqing wonders about his parents, so do you, mild cursing, mild angst, charms are meant to be pins in this

A/n) not so proud of how this turned out, please ignore this hot mess of a plot and focus on the fluff

If you asked Yanqing if he considered General Jing Yuan to be a father figure, he’d deny it profusely. He’d go on and on about how the General only took him in, give him shelter, and teach him swordsmanship. That he was still the General and not his father.

Of course, anyone with two eyes and clear eyesight would laugh at his embarrassed denial.

Even if he didn’t consider the General to be a ‘father figure’, he sought guidance and validation from him regularly enough to at least consider him a mentor. Yanqing acknowledged it. Jing Yuan acknowledged it. And of course, you acknowledged it.

He was a Cloud Knight, a lieutenant of the Cloud Knights nonetheless. He had a meal to come home to everyday, shelter, an allowance, and people around him that supported him. What more could the boy possibly want?

It seemed to go over the peoples’ heads that Yanqing isn’t familiar with his birth parents whatsoever.

On the other hand, everyone on the Luofu knew you were orphaned at a young age. You didn’t make it your whole personality, but you never tried to hide it. The elders admired your courage, skipping over the fact it wasn’t exactly courage.

What was there to be done about it? Sure, you didn’t know your parents. Parental love is the first love any child gets to experience, and you didn’t get that experience. But they’re already gone. What’s the point in chasing after someone that was never there?

It wasn’t courage, it was honesty.

And Yanqing wishes he could trade his courage for your honesty.

He knew you from Jing Yuan, though technically Tingyun. He was merely seven years old when he first saw you. You were standing behind Tingyun while clutching onto her clothes, he remembers this memory it like it was yesterday.

“Yanqing, there’s two people I’d like for you to meet today.” Jing Yuan stood over the short kid, trying to grab his attention away from the small swords he was gifted.

“Yes, General!” He practically jumped up, swords still in hand.

“Now, one of them is your age. So please, try to get along with them. You don’t have many friends outside of the Cloud Knights, and they’re all twice your age. This might be good for you.”

The General was right, Yanqing really didn’t have that many friends, none were even his age. But he was never interested in making friends, it was only swords.

“…I’ll try, General. When will they be arriving?”

“Right now, so you better get going.”

“What!?”

He remembered the General making him drop all his swords to get to the meeting on time. At the time, he was quite annoyed. But as he grew up over the years, that annoyance turned into gratitude.

Yanqing might have been an entirely different person if he never made a friend his age.

“This is the child I wanted you to meet. Yanqing, this is (Name).” The General guided the young boy’s arm out to shake the other’s hand.

You averted your eyes away from the two males in front of you, unsure of whether or not it was safe to let go of your mentor.

She seemed to have noticed your hesitance, and gave you a gentle push to extend your hand out as well.

“Oh yes, this is marvelous for little (Name) here. They certainly need more social interactions.” The fox lady known as Tingyun giggled as she watched you awkwardly shake the blonde boy’s hand.

“It’s a… pleasure to meet you. Um, Yan, was it?”

“That’s not my name! It’s Yanqing! Yan-qing!”

“Oops.” You mumbled unapologetically.

All Jing Yuan and Tingyun could do was watch the interaction play out as they discussed business between the commissions.

With your awkwardness, and Yanqing’s eccentricity, it took some time for you two to get on the same page. While you wanted to stay away from work for some time, Yanqing was always pulling you out of your room so you’d be doing something rather than nothing.

It was annoying at first, but it became routine with time.

Although, there was always a question you wanted to ask him. He wished to ask you the same question at some point, but avoided it for your sake.

That was until a windy day came along.

Wind was nothing unusual on the Luofu. Being up in the sky, far above and in the clouds, wind was completely normal weather.

For some reason, today was windier than others.

With wind came a chill, making many Luofu residents forget the sun was out. Of course it was bearable, but it wasn’t what anyone was used to.

You weren’t any exception to the chill of the wind. In fact, you felt victimized by the wind on this peculiar day. It was in your face, making you squint from the uncomfortable feeling. Your hair was flying everywhere, clothes waving around like crazy, and you were starting to catch a cold from the chill.

It was horrible.

You wanted nothing more than to finish your errands and return home.

But work is work, and duties are duties.

You groaned in frustration at the realization. You’ll be stuck in this cold wind for hours if you don’t pick up the pace, and your annoyance was only slowing you down more. But you couldn’t help it! No one likes wind that’s this severe.

You didn’t even wanna know what you looked like right now, you were sure your hair looked like a bird’s nest.

‘I can fix it later, though…’ you think to yourself. For now you had to stay optimistic, you’ll be home in no time if you move faster!

“Oh hey, is that (Name) over there?” A familiar high pitched voice said. It wasn’t far away, but it was far enough for you to just barley make out what the boy said.

“Oh… Yanqing. It’s you.” You tried to make it clear you were annoyed in hopes to get him to move along. Unfortunately, Yanqing never leaves unless he wants to.

“Aren’t you glad to see me! Nice weather today, right?” He laughed sarcastically. He could tell you weren’t happy with today’s weather just by appearance.

You only stared at him, just hoping he’d get the hint and get back to his day.

He stared back, refusing to back down.

Today was not a good day to get into a staring contest, you were already feeling your eyes drying up. As much as you didn’t want to forfeit…

You blinked. “Listen, I’m pretty busy here. It would be very much appreciated if you could let me get back to my work.” You waved your hand in another attempt to bid farewell.

“Oh yeah, you look pretty busy. Look at allll those files and papers in your hand.” He said sarcastically. You weren’t carrying a thing.

“Oh shut up, blondie.”

As if on cue, another strong gust of wind passed you by. And it was strong.

Even Yanqing furrowed his brows slightly at the gust, who moments prior seemed unaffected by ‘heinous’ weather. Meanwhile…

You put a whole hand over your face, furrowing your brows and hitching your breath. Aeons, will today get any worse than this?

The lieutenant realized just how frustrated you were, and bit his tongue to prevent anything teasing from coming out. Tingyun knew you hated this sort of weather, why would she send you out on a day like this? He shook his head a bit.

“You know, I don’t think Tingyun would mind if you held your tasks off for tomorrow. She’d understand, right?”

You pondered his question, wondering how much trouble you’d get in if you did something like that. Would you get in any trouble at all?

You always finished work on time, one overdue task won’t hurt, right?

“I suppose…” you muttered reluctantly.

Yanqing’s eyes somehow lit up more than they were seconds again. “That’s great! Okay, come with me!”

He tugged on your wrist, guiding you to another part of the Luofu. Where he was taking you? Neither of you really knew.

Many turns were taken, both of you regularly checking signs to make sure you weren’t lost. You’re wrist felt warner than the rest of your body, you’d almost forgot Yanqing was still holding onto it.

“Ah, here we are!” He exclaimed, finally finding some sort of destination.

“This is…?” You’re eyes wandered to where his eyes were locked, which was some random stall on the side of the street.

“A charm shop, I’ve been looking for it everywhere!” Before you could say anything, he pulled you along with him to the vendor.

It was small, no wonder it took some time to find it. It didn’t stick out much despite the colorful charms laid across the counter and in the back. There was a wide array of accessories, and honestly, you didn’t know what kind of business Yanqing of all people wanted with them.

“Hi! Do you have any charms that look like swords, or are swords?” Of course that’s what he asks for.

“Oh my, yes of course we do;” the old lady at the vendor eyed both you and Yanqing before continuing. “I’m assuming you’d like matching ones for you and your significant other here?” She asked.

You choked on your spit, Yanqing only blushed slightly at the assumption.

“It’s not like that. Not like that at all.” You denied, stopping a furious blush from creeping up ok your cheeks.

“But we would still like matching ones!” Yanqing finished.

“Yanqing!? What the hell?”

“Shh, it’s on me!” He said as if that was your concern.

“Two matching sword charms, coming right up.” The elderly woman said warmly.

“You can’t be serious, Yanqing.” You were alnost scolding him for doing this. Were matching charms really necessary?

“But I am (Name). Come on, you know you want one!”

“…sure.”

A minute or so passed before the lady came back with a single tiny bag, holding both yours and Yanqing’s charms inside.

“There you two go, enjoy.” She smiled, Yanqing paid her more than the initial price generously.

Once you were in a more secluded place, he opened up the bag, finally letting go of your wrist.

The sudden lack of warmth made you shiver slightly, but it was nothing compared to earlier. You eyed the boy in front of you as he furrowed his brows in concentration, clipping his charm onto his collar.

“There we go. Want me to do yours?” He asked sweetly. He was so sweet, it made you feel sick.

Because why else would you feel butterflies in your stomach if you weren’t also feeling sick?

“Go ahead, just don’t mess up my collar. It’s the only part of my clothes the wind didn’t rag up.”

You were embarrassed by his gradual closeness, especially while you still looked like a mess. At least, in your head you did.

His tongue poked out slightly out the corner of his mouth, clipping the charm into the collar of your shirt. Your breath unhitched the moment he pulled away, you didn’t realize he was that close until you saw the distance he returned to.

“So… (Name), that’s not the only reason I wanted to hang out with you. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for sometime now…” he took a pause, checking your facial features to be sure he could continue.

“Do you ever, like… I don’t know, wonder where your parents went?” He asked slowly, averting his eyes away from yours.

You were initially shocked that he was asking, he never asked personal questions. Then again, the one he asked was one you got asked quite regularly. You always responded with this same phrase;

“Sometimes, why do you ask?”

He looked at you again, looking away just as quickly. He knew you didn’t mind too much, but it was still treading into personal territory. Not just for you, but him as well now.

“I always wanted to know where my parents went after they left me. But it never felt like I was allowed to ask. After all, the General raised me like… like a father would. Asking about my biological parents would feel like I was disrespecting him, you know?” He paused again, keeping his composure.

“I just wanted to talk to someone… someone who understood.” He finished, finally making eye contact with you again.

This time, you were the one averting your eyes.

You took a breath, “I wonder where mine went every now and then. But no matter how much I wonder, it wont change the fact they aren’t around. I can see where you’re coming from about the General… I never asked Lady Tingyun about my parents because it felt… rude. I know it’s not rude deep down, which is why I think it’s my subconscious trying to protect me from finding out anything I don’t want to know.”

Yanqing paid full attention, listening to every word you had to say. Even if it was a lot, his attention never faltered.

“But Yanqing… I promise you the General really does care about you. And if you were to ask about your real parents, he wouldn’t feel disrespected.” You tried reassuring him slightly, not realizing the impact you had on him.

His eyes widened a bit. He needed to hear something like that for ages. But hearing it from you of all people really gave him the satisfaction he needed.

“Yeah… you’re right! (Name), you really are the best.”

“The best? You’re just happy to hear something like that. I’m just… regular. Not ‘the best.’”

“No, you really are the best, (Name). You’re my best friend, my best companion, the best person in the divination commission, the best person on the Luofu-“

“Okay! I get it…” you put a hand over your face, trying to hide your blush, failing miserably.

“But you need to hear it!”

“Not that much!” You exclaimed back at him.

He stared at you for a moment, this time you stared back without any intention of backing down.

The wind had finally died down, there wasn’t anything stopping you from winning this time.

Yanqing blinked. He blinked before laughing to himself, giggling like a teenage girl.

You blinked looking confused, not sure what he was laughing at.

“Oh man (Name), did you know a bird has been in your hair? It really is a birds nest now!” He laughed even harder.

Your hands swatted lightly at the top of your head, fingers grazing over the bird. Of course, it flew away at that. You just weren’t sure how you didn’t notice a whole bird landed in your hair.

“This isn’t funny!”

“You’re right, it’s not funny…” his laughter died down.

“Thank you. Now, let’s get back-“

“It’s not funny, it’s hilarious!” Once again, he went into a giggling fit.

“Yanqing!”

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll stop… for now. Come on, it’s almost past my curfew! I’m gonna take you to the Cloud Knight Headquarters.”

“Seriously? I also have a curfew, you know.” You said in annoyance.

“Well if your at the headquarters, I’m sure Tingyun won’t mind.”

“Yeah but-“

“No but’s! Let’s go!”

With that, he dragged you off to the Cloud Knight Headquarters.

So many events unfolded in a single day. And with so much happening, you never got the chance to finish your work. But…

You eyed the boy next to you, his eyes practically shining as he laughed, pulling you through the crowded streets of the Luofu to headquarters. He looked so mesmerizing in the sunset light, you almost wanted to kiss him.

Almost. You almost wanted to kiss him.

Maybe you would have kissed him if the streets weren’t so busy tonight, or maybe you can kiss him before you go home.

And maybe windy days won’t be so bad with Yanqing around…

-Bonus!-

“(Name), I wanted to thank you for helping Yanqing the other day.” You heard a deep voice from behind you.

You turned around, being met with General Jing Yuan’s hologram. This wasn’t out of the ordinary, as he’d usually appear like this whenever he needed to speak to Tingyun or Yukong in the divination commission.

“Helping him? What do you mean, General?” You asked curiously, not sure what he was referring to.

“I mean reassuring him about his parents, and how he can ask me anything. He’s seemed much more at ease since me and him talked, and he said it was all thanks to you.” You swore you saw a small smirk form on the General’s face at that last remark.

“Oh… well it was no problem! I was just helping someone dear to me out.” You waved your hands in front of your face in hopes to cover your rising blush.

“If that’s the case, I’m sure Yanqing won’t mind helping someone dear to him out in return. Come on by whenever you’d like, (Name). Please, actually. The boy won’t stop talking about you.” His hologram dispersed before you could respond, leaving you in shock.

You felt sure now that Yanqing would love to hear you’ve been chatting Tingyun’s ear off about him as well.

[blegh-110]

I read Flightless Bird in one seat. It's fantastic!!!! And the smut is... oh, so delicious! Now, can we just sit together for a moment and think (despite the messed up dynamic, which maybe I shouldn't like as much as I do), about a Tangerine's enemy who finds the reader in the house and tries to harm her? Will there be any remnants of this unfortunately unlucky soul?

omg this poor man.

so maybe the reader doesnt even notice that this man has broken in because she is too preoccupied with something else. like shes taking a bubble bath while watching something on the tv in her bathroom. unbeknownst to her is a man downstairs searching for her in every room. but he doesnt get far before tangerine and lemon come in and attack the guy. shoving him into walls, punching and kicking him.

she tenses in the tub when she hears all the ruckus, suddenly scared for her life. she doesn't exactly know what tangerine does for a living, but she definitely knows its very dangerous, and that this is probably a product from that.

she quickly rises, wrapping a towel around herself and pausing her show, being careful to not make any noise. she goes into her room to call tangerine but hes already in there with a terrified look on his face, as well as some freshly splattered blood.

"jesus, fu- youre okay." and hes walking towards her, pulling her into a crushing hug and smoothing down her wet hair.

"why wouldnt i be? what was all that noise?"

"oh, you dont need to worry your head about that, s'nothing, i promise."

"but i heard-"

"hey," she shuts her mouth immediately at his tone and serious look in his eyes, "i said it was nothing, alright?"

she nods her head, hating herself for finding him so attractive like this. she should be suspicious that something went on downstairs, she should be terrified at the sight of fresh blood on his face, but all her mind can do is become fuzzy at his stern stare and harsh tone. its been happening to much lately, she thinks. shes starting to enjoy just how strict and cut-throat he can be sometimes.

and downstairs outside, lemon is dragging the mans bloodied and beat up body out of the house. remembering to keep him alive so that tangerine can torture him himself.

[shitpostingkats]

Can I please have some dark world administrative lore. Read your "Jaden Yuki has to take care of a pack of middle schoolers" and now im obsessed. Very much looking forward to the fic you mentioned where Yuri becomes Jaden's intern/apprentice because I would love to see their relationship development/dynamic and also. I need more administrative lore. I would absolutely read your entire 15 slide powerpoint

I have such a regular amount of Dark World lore. It is a very sane amount of worldbuilding I did. The next fic in the series definitely isn't going to be more underworld office comedy schennanigans with absurd amounts of exposition and complex workplace drama.

(One of these is a lie.)

For the dark world administrative lore, I decided to use file no. 4 of the Master Guide 2 card storylines as a jumping off point, and then the lore just ballooned from there. The powerpoint exists for my own referencing purposes, because even if most of the dark world generals don't appear (yet >:), it is important it exists to me.

Let's start with our head of state and his primary advisors!

Third King of the Dark World, babey!!! You know him, you love him, it's the Yuki!

Not too much to say about our Supreme Boi that isn't gonna be covered in future fics. The most relevant information, going into the as-of-yet-untitled next gc au fic, is thinking about what the hot mess that is dark world politics from an outside perspective. Like, imagine you're one of the other interdimensional courts that exist in the wider yugioh canon and just

Yuri doesn't have a slide in my powerpoint :(

I can say that in the gc au after he settles into the dark world and starts being involved in running the kingdom, Jaden goes in and officially names him an official of the dark world. At first, Yuri demanded he also be called "Supreme King", because he's a little shit like that. They compromise on "Supreme Prince".

None of the other officials call him that. They just call him "The Princeling"

Beiige, my beloved long suffering paper pusher <3

Jaden does, in fact, end up giving him a scarf at some point.

Under our King, Prince, and Vanguard, we have the newly promoted heads of Millitary and Wellfare. There is technically a third branch of of the government, Security, but rather than have a single representative, the duties of security are actually divided into Internal and External. Or, more specifically, The Wild Hunt and Renge And His Weird Daughter.

More on them later.

For now, say hi to the rest of the Dark World's millitary division!

Fun fact! At first one might assume that the dark world monsters don't have genders! Well, I assumed that at first, at least. But Snoww is considered notable for being the "only" female Dark Lord, which implies they have at least some kind of gender system. And for some reason, I find it much stranger to have a host of duel spirits with like twelve guys and one woman, than everyone just using to same pronouns. So for my own comfort and amusement, I've switched up some of the Dark Lords genders. So if she ever comes up in fic, Lucent is a woman. Other than that, she's basically the textbook brooding samurai. Jaden actually offered her the position of millitary head first, but she turned it down, both thinking herself undeserving of the title, and because she argued her being not an on-the-ground operative is exactly how she did not know how bad Bronn's rule had become. He reluctantly agreed, and she pointed him towards Zure.

What happened to the previous heads of Military? Well, as I alluded to in my fic, they're a bit hard to track down at the moment.

And in special ops, we got Cobal!

Not actually ever printed, never even seen in show. Cobal wasn't even a Dark Lord under the previous monarchy. He's like the dark world equivalent of a construction worker who got promoted to the head of the CIA. Why the rapid career change? Well one, he was in the resistance with Axel, and Jaden trusts anyone who tried to actively overthrow him. Also, the previous head of the CIA defected and set about overthrowing the government.

And on the other side, under Gren's oversight, we have our Silly Old Men.

The true victors of diplomacy. Because they were not soldiers, and smart enough to understand how veeeeery precarious that made their standing once Bronn started to go all mad king-y, used their massive brains and promptly noped right out of the situation. Parl already stayed in his cave like 90% of the time, so he pulled the old Just Stop Showing Up To The Office strategy and wrote a letter to his friend suggesting he do that same. Someone who was NOT passive about the whole Supreme King situation, however, was Ceruli's apprentice, Snoww.

While they have since reconciled, Snoww was originally an ardent opponent to Jaden's (first) rule, as well as Bronn. There isn't a more skilled death diviner in the dark world, nor any other dimension, so Supreme King Jaden went to her first thing upon Bronn's defeat to seek help recovering Jesse's soul. She was unable to find it (him being still alive) and even worse, advised Jaden that obsessing over a ghost was often the last thing a spirit wanted. Once he started pursuing Super Poly, she turned her work to guiding as many of the lost souls as she could to a peaceful rest, and delaying the ritual as long as possible.

She continued like this even after she was found out, and formally defected to join the rebellion.

RIP Latinum. He's currently rotting in one of the many Dark World prison cells.

And lastly, we've got the security branch, both internal and external.

There are now two gatekeepers in the Dark World, which is a 200% increase to what it was previously!!!

Broww's wild hunt is roughly based on the real life folkloric trend; the ever-moving host of unquiet dead that roams across the land. I like to think it has that same spooky connotation, even among dark world residents. Broww's just scary. Add to it that he basically disappeared from the government to continue to act as an independent force, the wild hunt has a bit of a mysterious reputation. It's basically the most sovereign branch of the dark world government, if not for...

Are you going to be the one to tell the dragonlord what they can and can't do??? Grapha and Jaden work on a mutual respect type of relationship, as Jaden is one of the most powerful beings in all dimensions and still a little cautious about working with dragon spirits. Inversely, Grapha is willing to handle territorial and testy dragons all day, but can acknowledge when their boss is pretty chill for an eldritch horror.

If you want a easier to follow summary, here's a diagram of the Dark World's current chain of command:

AND! For an added bit of trivia: Completely by accident, I somwhow managed to namedrop every GX era original Dark World monster in Jaden Yuki Has To Take Care Of A Pack Of Wild Middleschoolers. I just love talking about my headcanon lore so much. Can you spot them all?

[ma1dmer]

The Elder Scrolls - Harkon NSFW

i am trying to convince myself that this man doesn't look like my father, HE DOES NOT, its just his dumb goatie

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): he'll order for a bath to be drawn for you, candles lit up , tea while you sit in the warm water and any of his thralls at your immediate command

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): neck and collarbone area, he'll purposefully rest his hand at the back of your neck ,gently rubbing circles across your pulse point to feel your heartbeat, or he'll trail kisses up your arms to your shoulder and then up your neck, lingering at the little spot right behind your ear or at the hollow of your throat before he reaches your lips , he gets you expensive collars and necklaces to wear and show off,

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically): will hand you something to clean yourself up after he is done, he doesn't care much for the mess

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): would definitely be into a bdsm dynamic, he wants to own you in every way possible, will shower you in lavish gifts and make sure you are always protected, however you'll belong to him , you'll be under his command , rewarded and punished as he sees fit

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?): he has a lot of experience, has been alive for so long and it shows in the simple ways he can have you aching

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying): he wants you bent over some sort of surface, a table or something, will kick your feet apart to spread your legs for him to fit behind you properly

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.): he can be very intense, definitely on the more serious side 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.): keeps himself trimmed and clean, makes sure he is always presentable 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect): he can be very romantic but keeps most of it outside the bedroom, roses and a hearty meal for you before he brings you to his bedroom or suggests something more risque for your evening together

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): no longer has the need to masturbate and even so he’d prefer having you help him in this case, burying himself in you or in your mouth, but does enjoy watching you however, will pour himself some wine and sit back telling you how exactly to touch yourself, how to position yourself so he has the perfect view etc

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): pet play, some mild primal play, bdsm etc

L = Location (favorite places to do the do): the privacy of a bedroom, its not out of being particularly shy or something, its just more comfortable, however he is not above playing a few, games with you outside in the dark ,or sometimes flaunting you to the rest of the clan 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): being direct with him, he is an old man and has better things to concern himself than you playing coy games with him, tell him what you want and he'll be more than happy to help you out 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): probably anything to do with him being more submissive, it does not work for him at all

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.): big fan of cock warming, keeping you on his cock for as long as he sees fit ,pretending he forgot you were even there as he strokes your hair and chuckles deeply , he will make sure to reward you later if you are good for him, returns the favour in earnest after of course living a trail of bitemarks on your thighs before throwing your legs over his shoulders and diving in properly for your reward

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.): slow and rough, will drive his hips against yours with purpose, holding you tightly and leaning over you to drag his teeth against your shoulders

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.): he has all the time in the world, sees no reason why he should be rushed

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.): he has had plenty of time to figure out what he likes and doesn't like so he really doesn't feel the need to experiment any longer but might indulge you if he is in a giving mood

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?): as a vampire he has a lot of stamina so it usually depends on how much you can take

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?): definitely has a collection he uses on you, its all stashed in his room in a hidden wardrobe with a heavy lock and a key only he has access to, every time he wants to use something on you ,he'll have you kneel and wait patiently while he looks over the collection pondering how to torment you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): he can be quite cruel with his teasing when he is punishing you, edging you and sending you off over and over again for days on end

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.): he groans lowly, his voice rumbling from deep within his chest as he praises you and tells you what he expects from you,otherwise he remains pretty quiet

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character): one of his most favoured ways to punish you is letting you get yourself off on his thigh or leg ,grinding against his boot until you cum even if it takes you hours and you are sobbing by the end,doesn’t even gaze down at you and then sends you off with a wave of his hand barely acknowledging you, definitely into some sort of boot worship

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes): average but on the thicker side with a prominent vein on the side 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?): he is very much in control of his needs, doesn’t have a high libido, but he does enjoy helping you out ,adores knowing you want him even if he remains entirely unaffected 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): as a vampire he doesn’t sleep often but when he does it’s by himself in his coffin, doesn’t like to be disturbed 

[skimmingmilk]

Hiya Skimming!

I just finished re-reading Relative Dissonance again (I love all your Sonic works so so much💛💛💛) and it got me wondering about a couple things!

Do you have any headcanons on how UG!Sonic and UG!Miles grow closer after the ending of the story??

Do they do similar stuff to UG!Sonic with Tails, like riding on top of the van together etc.? Or do they have their own dynamic?? Also I’m curious about the dynamic between Miles and Sonia/Manic👀

And the other thing, we know Robotnik got yeeted into another dimension and isn’t dead..will he make another cameo in any of your future fics?? And what would you say he’s up to at present?👀

No pressure to answer this btw!!❤️ and I hope you’re having the loveliest day❤️

Hi there!

I'm delighted you like "Relative Dissonance" so much! I'm so proud of it and really look forward to playing around with it again one day ❤️ But definitely happy to answer questions in the meantime!

Yes, UG!Sonic and UG!Miles will eventually be as close as any other Sonic and Tails across the multiverse, but of course their dynamic will feel natural and specific to them. It helps that they both impacted each other in a way prior to Tails even coming to that dimension, but music is definitely something that bonds them together.

Back at their storage unit, they end up cutting into unit next to them and turning that into a smaller scale version of Miles's workshop, as well as a place for him to sleep. When they're not on the road, he's usually working in there while the triplets practice, jamming along like he used to with his recordings, but he'll come out sometimes to watch them. Sonic will also hang out in the workshop and test out ideas for new songs on Miles, to get an opinion from his "number one fan" ;P He strings up a hammock in the corner as a place for him to sleep inside, instead of always being on the roof or isolating himself in the van. Sonic and Miles go on scavenging adventures together and they eventually take on a project to build a working plane so they can see and help more of the world as it starts to repair itself. It's not the Tornado or the Cyclone, but something all their own.

Miles is pretty independent, which Tails was too, but unlike Tails, Miles doesn't trust as easily. He's pretty closed off at first, wary of disrupting his place within the sibling set and feeling like an outsider. He hasn't needed anyone for so long. He doesn't want to depend on them because it will hurt when they let him down or leave him. He's pretty similar to Nine in some ways and can come off as a little abrasive at times, but so can UG!Sonic. But Miles still has a softness to him and does care deeply about what the triplets think of him, even if he tries to hide it.

Miles is a good listener and he pays attention to every detail when they talk to him. He makes little upgrades to the triplets' tech wherever he can. Nothing too obtrusive the way Tails did, just small, almost invisible quality of life upgrades. Sonic will tell him he doesn't have to earn his keep, that he can stay as long as he wants to, but Miles will deny that that's what he's doing.

Miles and Manic of course get to bond over their shared love of mechanics. Manic gets to move his workbench into Miles's workshop and they'll work together on projects occasionally (just not the plane, the plane is for Sonic and Miles only and Sonic is very middle child about it xD). Sonia and Miles are slower to connect, but when they do, their dynamic will very much be like one of them could murder someone and the other would help them hide the body. I mean, all the triplets would, but Miles and Sonia would be the ones to want to protect Manic and Sonic from whatever mess they got involved in (and honestly, are probably trying to keep them from making things worse, lol).

Where Tails made the triplets aware of what exactly was missing in their lives, Miles fits into that empty space perfectly. It was always meant for him. He's not a replacement for Tails at all, though it takes a bit of getting used to for all four of them. There are some growing pains as they adjust to one another. But whenever it seems like Miles is feeling overwhelmed and overcrowded - Sonic will take him for a run. And they can go as fast and as far as they want, knowing there's still a home waiting for them when they're ready to come back.

As far as what happened to Robotnik, I haven't decided yet what else might be in store for him! I left it open-ended intentionally. He might not have ended up in a dimension that supports organic life. Or maybe he's in the original Underground universe now and is bent on getting revenge on those hedgehogs and their little fox, too! His story may or may not be over. All I know at the moment is that he's definitely low on my list of priorities for what I'm able to devote brainstorming energy to xD So if he is up to anything, we might not know for a while.

Thank you again for the ask! ❤️

[tw1nkee28]

Hey I have a small question, I’m not shipping anyone, but I’m wondering are Dawn and Jack friends or does Jack hate the hell out of Dawn, or they best friends, love hate friendship, or do they possibly have a thing for each other

I’m not shipping anyone, I’m just curious if I need to change the way Jack acts around Dawn in my videos, also to see if I need to stop the way Jack acts with Dawn in my memes or videos, or how Dawn acts with Jack in my videos and meme

(Sorry if this bothered you or upset you in anyway, I’m just wondering for future posts)

(I think I spelled everything correctly😓)

You're perfectly fine! No worries, I don't mind shipping or anything as long as it isn't weird or genuinely bad. I love getting asks and questions about my little guys, don't worry 🫶

(lots of words below cut)

Now, in terms of dynamic? They know each other, they've interacted a bunch and are friendly with each other, but I don't believe they're ... Close per say.

Don't get me wrong, I believe they'd be considered acquaintances, 'friends' at best. But they also don't interact with each other enough to be considered genuine friends. Mainly because Dawn avoids the med bay and any medical professionals or places, not because he has a problem with the people, but because he hasn't had positive experiences with medical settings in the past. And since he completely avoids the med bay and claims he's fine even when he is very obviously seriously injured, he is one of Jack's most difficult patients.

How they would interact? Mhhh, I think they'd get along outside of anything medical related. They're both laid back generally and "quiet" I guess, though Dawn is much more quiet. Jack talks a bunch when he gets comfortable or when someone gets him going, quiet any other time. The two have SOME things in common, enough to find common ground for conversation. They both get annoyed with people easily, both can cook, both hate florescent lights (for very different reasons), etc etc.

So it's more of a "You're a pain in my ass, but I deal with you" dynamic, they've had their intimate moments cause poly shadow company is very real in my mind, but nothing romantic (Jack is aro, doesn't really feel romantic attraction to anyone but enjoys the attention). They're generally peaceful with each other, enjoying the silence and calm presence of one another when they're left alone, sometimes starting up conversation about whatever they can think of.

Jack pokes and prods at Dawn when the moment calls for it, like if he's blatantly avoiding him because his check-up's soon or if he did something stupid earlier that day. Jack cares deeply for all of the shadows and their safety, and he doesn't exclude Dawn. Checks up on everyone and him after every mission, and Dawn does the same but in more subtle ways. Doing physical acts of helping other people silently to check up on them or just sneaking a few glances at Jack after a long mission just to see if he's alright.

And I mean, Dawn could possibly have a thing for him in the future (?) unrequited love or something like that. But it also takes Dawn a long while to get to know people and develop any sort of feelings for them because of the walls he puts up, and they haven't really known each other for very long since technically Jack just recently joined SC. So I'll just put a big fat MAYBE on that for now HSGHF, but I will give you that they HAVE been intimate before, just not really romantically as I said before jshdh

Jack also appreciates Dawn because he never touches the lights in his office or messes with his stuff

- To simplify it, they're friendly with each other when they need to be. Not out-right friends, but close acquaintances. They have brief but nice interactions when they do interact.

Also, feel free to have them interact however you feel they should. I haven't spent too much time dwelling on how exactly their dynamic and relationship works, so this is subject to change. I also like seeing other people's takes on them !!

I tend to make my characters boring with their interactions, especially Dawn. I promise I don't mean to, his boringness is a trauma response 😭

Thanks for the ask 🫶