#but i don’t even know where to start with her characterization

[pretty-pup-stevie]

Kinda wanna try writing for Steve Harrington, but I’m a little afraid I won’t get the characterization right :/

[pathologicalreid]

a special occasion | S.R.

moving your daughter into a toddler bed brings about some interesting conversation

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, dad!spencer, the f word, talks about having another baby but not necessarily suggestive, extremely accurate emily prentiss characterization word count: 1.36k a/n: this is the spencer reid dilf agenda: father's day edition! this entire fic was born from a headcanon that spencer is stupid good at building ikea furniture. also, this is technically the family from cryptic, but you don't have to read that fic to know what's happening here. it's just easier than making/naming a new baby every time.

“Emily started trying to teach her to swear,” Spencer told you, pulling a bag of screws out of the cardboard box splayed on the floor in your toddler’s room.

While he started to check whether or not all of the pieces were there, your eyes followed your daughter as she ran around the room, pulling each toy out of her toy box and setting it on the other side of the room. “I think we should consider ourselves lucky that Em waited until she was two to start her campaign,” you responded, thanking your daughter as she handed you a baby doll.

The crib had already been taken apart and was ready to be stored in the basement, and the pieces that were organized on the floor would eventually create a toddler bed. Right now, the floor was just covered in wood and screws – tiny pieces that set your mom instincts on high alert. Looking at the pieces, Spencer raised his head, “Hey, Nellie, can you hand me that screwdriver?” He asked your toddler, pointing at the screwdriver on the floor for her to grab.

You tried to hide your smile as Eleanor picked up the wrench from the floor and proudly presented it to her father. He thanked her, and as she toddled back to her toy box, you slyly passed the screwdriver to your husband. “Welcome,” she said softly, “welcome, welcome, welcome,” she echoed.

After reading about how important it was to involve your toddler in setting up their big kid bed, you and Spencer set out to include Nellie in every step. She picked the bed frame, the sheets, and everything she could possibly need for the bed. “Did you tell Emily not to teach her swear words?”

“Of course I did, but I’m pretty sure she started up again when I left the room,” he informed you, using the screwdriver to attach two pieces of the base together.

Humming, you glanced over to Eleanor, “I’d have thought Derek would be the one to start it,” you muttered, watching as she ducked her entire head in the toy box, obviously looking for a particular toy.

Spencer continued working on putting the pieces together, faltering in his movements as Nell made her way back to where the two of you were sitting. She made her way around the bed parts and unceremoniously sat down next to her father, her pigtails – his handiwork – bouncing as she plopped to the ground. “Hi princess,” he greeted, taking a moment to hug her into his side before returning to his construction work.

Eleanor happily waved the wooden hammer she had retrieved from the toy box in the air, “Help daddy,” she offered giddily, kicking her feet as she watched him complete another step in the process.

“Here, can you hammer this right here?” He asked her, pointing to the part he had just fastened, having her hammer at the screw – she was none the wiser. “Good job,” he praised her before reaching over for the next piece.

Furrowing your brow, you watched him work as Nell hammered at the carpet in front of her, “You’re not even reading the instructions.”

He shrugged, “I looked at them before I started, but I don’t need them,” he said casually, adjusting his arm as Eleanor leaned into him.

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t tell me you can just visualize the way the pieces go together in your giant brain.”

“Okay,” he answered simply, a small smirk sprouting on his face, “I won’t tell you that.”

Groaning, you laid back on the carpet and stared up at the ceiling, “I have been building furniture for years and you’re telling me I could’ve just handed it off to you?” Every bookshelf you had put together while he was off on a case, you could’ve just saved it for him.

Nellie had started creating a song about her love of hammers, continuing to hammer at the floor. “Oh, hey, be careful,” Spencer said gently, “those screws are sharp,” he told her.

Your head snapped up to see her reaching out for the pile of screws on the floor, and Spencer was doing his best to redirect her to the bolts. “Sharp,” she echoed solemnly, leaning back and holding her hammer with both hands.

“Can you say hammer?” You asked, pointing to the apparatus in her hand.

Holding it up proudly, she gave you a toothy grin, “Hammer!” She fumbled over her “r” sound, but Spencer assured you that it was a skill that she had plenty of time to develop.

As Spencer finished putting the bed together, you continued asking Eleanor to name the bits and bobs around her bedroom. “You’re so smart, lovebug. You get your brains from your daddy,” you told her.

“But you’re pretty like your mama,” he instantly responded, not even looking up from what he was doing to talk you up to your daughter – as if the two of them didn’t have the same big, brown eyes.

You pulled yourself up to a sitting position, smiling as Nell stood up and walked over to you, “Mama,” she said, turning around and taking a seat in your lap. “Bed?” She asked, looking over at the spot where her crib used to reside.

Switching from the screwdriver to a hex key, Spencer smiled at the two of you, “Almost,” he answered.

Gently dropping a kiss on the top of her head, you smiled fondly down at your toddler, “Do you remember picking your new bed out?” You asked while you pointed at the frame your husband was nearly finished with and the pile of fresh sheets she had chosen.

Nodding slowly, Nellie watched Spencer place the mattress on the bed frame before inviting her to come try it out. He reached out his hand for her, and she took his index finger in her tiny hand before he helped her up on the bed, “What do you think Nellie?” He asked, straightening out her ladybug overalls from where they were getting twisted up.

“Big,” she answered, releasing her hold on his finger and laying down on the mattress. You checked the time on your phone to make sure she wasn’t missing a nap.

Spencer stood up, picking her up as he did so, he held her close, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “You started climbing out of your crib every night, so you got to upgrade to a big girl bed,” he explained to her. You shuffled over to grab the sheets and start making the bed. “Alright, did Aunt Emily teach you a new word last night?”

From the way she smiled at him, you knew the answer to the question and that she had been informed that Emily would get in trouble for teaching her the word, “Fuck!”

Clamping your hand over your mouth to stop from laughing, you heard your husband sigh behind you, “Did Aunt Emily tell you that you shouldn’t say that?”

“Speshul cay-shun,” she sounded out the answer as he let her down, she went back to the bed that you had just finished making. You helped her up on the bed and she proceeded to lay down on the comforter, patterned with multi-colored flowers.

While she explored her new bed, you stood next to your husband, “Shame we have no use for the crib anymore,” he murmured to you, snaking an arm around your waist.

Raising your eyebrows, you turned to look at him, “Oh, you are fishing right now, Spencer Reid.” You were half joking, half scolding as you beamed up at him.

Spencer placed both of his hands on either side of your waist, “I am merely stating a fact,” he said, feigning innocence.

“Pointedly, stating a fact,” you corrected him, “It’s definitely something to consider.”

“Fuck,” a small voice said from behind the both of you, causing your head to snap back to your daughter, who was now making snow angels on her new bed.

You cringed slightly, “Maybe we’ll revisit after we solve this issue.”

He looked fondly over at the toddler, “You have to admit, it is a special occasion.”

[halsteadlover]

𝐀 𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐧

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female!Reader.

• Requested by anon: Could you please write a derek Morgan x reader smut where the reader and derek and the team obvi are on a case and while interviewing neighbors in the apartments the reader makes a stupid bet like "I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his 20s" and then it's the opposite and when they are back in the car derek makes the reader pay up but with her panties and when she goes to get them back at the end of the day it leads to smut.

• Warnings: a really brief mention of a murder case (it’s just a sentence), dirty talk, cuss words, making out, semi-public foreplay (f. receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up you guyssss!!)

• Word count: 5.5K

• A/N: my first Derek fic 😭 I hope you like it guys, please let me know what do you think about it and also comment, like and reblog, it’d mean the world. Sending lots of love to everyone ❤️

What part of your brain thought it was a good idea to make a bet with Derek Morgan?

You didn’t even know why you did it, it must’ve been the pleasure of losing because there was no way on earth you would’ve won.

You and Morgan were about to go interview a witness for a case you were working on: a serial killer who was killing his victims by setting fires. You were walking next to each other while you thought of some way to make what was going to be a long and boring afternoon, interesting.

You and Derek had a, well… Particular relationship, to say the least.

Months prior you and him had started to have sex. It started out as a purely physical thing as you had always been very attracted to each other, but as time went on you found yourselves spending time together and enjoying each other’s company even outside of a sexual sphere.

Your relationship, both from a working and private point of view, had always been characterized by a playful banter, mischievous jokes, by the constant flirting so it wasn’t strange you both often found yourselves making bets aimed to make lose the other’s mind.

In fact, it was at that moment that you came up with an idea for a bet, however forgetting he took them so seriously it seemed like his life depended on it, especially since most of the time he won, and the penances were of a sexual nature. Of course you didn’t mind losing one bit.

“I bet whoever lives here is a hot single bachelor in his twenties,” you said, pointing to the apartment where you were heading, ready to question the witness. He grinned and glanced at you, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Oh baby girl, you still don’t understand it’s a losing battle?”

“What’s the matter Agent Morgan, you afraid of losing?” You challenged him with the deliberate pleasure of teasing him and in fact he immediately gave in to your provocation.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly in amusement. You arrived in front of the apartment door that had the number ‘23’ on its sign. You were standing facing each other while he thought about the penance, he would’ve make you do if you – most likely – lost.

Another evil, mocking grin appeared on his lips, and you immediately knew you were in trouble. “You’ll give me your panties when you lose.”

“If I lose.”

“When. But you can still back out.”

“Never.”

He held out a hand towards you but you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed over your body from head to toe, checking you out without shame. Over time you had learned to understand what he was thinking, what was hidden behind his look and you almost caught fire because you immediately recognized that look, it was the one he gave you when he was imagining you naked in every possible and imaginable position.

And in fact, you weren’t wrong.

Just the thought of having your panties in his pocket, walking around and smelling you, was enough to make his dick stir in his pants.

You knew the odds of you winning the bet were slim, but your competitive nature made you shake Morgan’s hand, and he gave you another one of his panty-ripping smiles.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, don’t take the victory for granted.”

He raised his hands in surrender, chuckling. “I would never dare but be realistic darling. Do you know how low the odds are?”.

“What if I win?”.

“You won’t.”

“What if I win?” You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shrugged, very sure he’d win. “You’ll choose the penance.”

You thought about it for a moment and a mischievous smile appeared on your lips this time. “I’ll do a strip tease and a lap dance.”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “How is that a penance? Baby I’d drop on my knees right now to make this happen...”

“…But you’ll be handcuffed, you won’t be able to touch me and I won’t make you come.”

He opened his mouth wide, feeling his dick twitch just at the thought. He had to force himself to think of something else since he didn’t want to question a witness with a raging hard on but it was awfully difficult when all he could do was imagine you strip teasing and grinding on his lap. “Fuck I don’t know if I should win or lose.”

“If you want to end up with blue balls then you have to hope to lose.”

You knocked on the apartment door, still maintaining eye contact with Derek and trying to hold back your laughter since you knew exactly what he was thinking. You took your eyes away from him only to let them travel down his body and to the crotch of his pants which was clearly prominent at that moment. You bit your lip as you looked back at his face and he glared at you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he whispered, feeling the situation getting even worse. Damn it, he felt like a damn horny teenager.

Before you could respond to his comment the door opened, revealing a person who couldn’t be more different from the object of your bet. He in fact was a she, a lady who couldn’t have been less than sixty years old.

Your smile dropped as the one on Derek’s face grew even more and, as you had already said, you wondered what part of your brain had thought it was a good idea to make that bet.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” she looked skeptically at both of you.

“Oh yes ma’am, you just made my day so much better,” he replied softly but glancing at you. “We’re FBI agents, may we ask you few questions?”

Over the next hour and a half you interviewed other witnesses near the fire scene and on your way to the car, Derek wouldn’t stop trying to get close to you and touch you.

“Derek stop it! We’re in public! God you’re so unprofessional,” you slapped one of his hands away that had been squeezing your ass for the last couple of minutes, trying not to laugh.

“There’s nothing professional about what we do, baby girl,” he replied with mock annoyance, “Plus I can’t help it, I can’t wait to rip your panties off.”

“Nuh uh mister, the deal was that I have to give you my panties not you taking them off me.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes as you approached the car but before you could get in he grabbed your hand and turned you towards him. He placed his hands on your face and as he pushed your back against the car door he crushed his lips on yours.

He didn’t care about passers-by in any way, in people’s eyes you might have looked like a couple who was passionately making out.

After the first few seconds of surprise, you immediately kissed him back, parting your lips and letting him slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew it was totally unprofessional to kiss your colleague in broad daylight while you were doing your job but all it took was for him to get close for you to lose your mind, no longer able to think clearly.

Your hands moved down his chest to encircle his waist, trying to pull him closer to you than his body already was. Your mouths moved in sync while he seemed to want to suck his soul out of you and although you were now used to kissing him, every time it was as if it was the first.

You almost moaned into the kiss, your body already on fire, wanting more. You wanted him so badly, you wanted his hands, his fingers, his mouth and his tongue all over you.

“Derek please…” you sighed when you broke away, his face still dangerously close to yours.

“Get in the car princess,” he ordered and his voice was so low and seductive that if he had asked you to give him a blowjob right there on the sidewalk you would’ve dropped on your knees without the slightest hesitation.

He opened the door for you and you giggled like a teenager before getting in, thanking him as you watched him walk around the car before getting in too.

“I would’ve fucked you in the car here and now if we weren’t in public. You’re so fucking hot baby,” he whispered against your lips after moving closer to you and taking your chin between his fingers. “But I’ll settle taking your panties off for now.”

He placed a hand on your breast and groped it before sliding it across your stomach to your jeans-covered pussy. You moaned as he began to touch you, making you squirm under his expert fingers.

“I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you honey?” He continued to tease you.

“Fuck Derek… They’ll see us…”

“You’re right,” he replied, stopping touching you, causing you to moan and grunt at the same time. “No one should look at what is mine.”

God Derek Morgan and the things he made you feel. You were starting to really hate him.

“You’re having so much fun aren’t you?”

He started the car but not before throwing you one last mocking and sexy as hell grin. “You have no idea how much.”

You squeezed your legs together in anticipation feeling the urge and desire grow more and more. You continued to look at him as he drove, observing every feature of his perfect profile with your hungry eyes.

How could someone be so perfect?

And it didn’t help he had one hand resting on your inner thigh as his thumb was stroking dangerously close to your intimate area. You didn’t know whether to hate him, to beg him to go higher or both but certainly the smug expression on his face made you want to punch him.

Derek drove to a hidden, dead end road, not caring the rest of the team was probably waiting to hear from both you and him.

He kissed you breathless again, threading a hand into your hair. But he didn’t stay there for long as he moved down your chest again, wasting no time in groping your breasts again, until he reached your pussy again.

“God Derek you’re driving me crazy,” you hissed as you struggled to keep control. He kissed you again and unbuttoned your pants and you lifted your hips before your brain could even process the movement, allowing him to slide them down your thighs. You took off your shoes, slipping your pants off.

He slipped his hands into your underwear and a loud moan escaped your lips that Derek felt right in his dick. “As I imagined… So fucking wet.”

“Fuck yes just like that,” you sighed as his fingers drew circles on your clit. You gripped the sides of the seat as if searching for a leverage, pleasure flowing through your veins.

He knew where to touch you, he knew HOW to touch you, what to do to make you lose your mind and control.

“I'm dying to taste this pussy, look at you soaking up my fingers,” he whispered in your ear, pressing his lips to your neck and sucking on your skin but being careful not to leave any marks. The team already didn’t give you any respite suspecting there was something between you, he certainly didn’t want to give them clear proof.

Two of his fingers slipped easily inside your wet pussy, curling inside you and touching that spongy spot that made you moan and thinking you were about to ascend to heaven.

“Yes, yes, oh god yes,” you kissed him, spreading your legs even more to give him more access.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl loves being so dirty, letting me finger this pussy in public.”

You dipped your head back in pleasure, feeling the orgasm already building inside you.

He pulled his fingers out and you grunted at the loss and took off your panties, bringing them to his nose and deeply inhaling the scent that drove him so crazy: you and sex. “Now I really don’t know how I’m going to go through the whole day without being hard knowing I have your panties here,” he spoke up as he stuffed them into his pocket. “But we should go back.”

What?

“Derek you can’t leave me like this!”.

“Oh I can and I will, we shouldn’t let the others think we might be doing something shouldn’t we?”

“You fucking piece of shit.”

He burst out laughing and you nearly punched him in his handsome face.

You were furious. Irritated.

You were furious, irritated but above all horny.

After that little stunt he had done in the car Derek had really left you like that, without an orgasm and with a mad desire to fuck.

The rest of the day was torture, especially having to work with other people while pretending you didn’t feel like you were on the edge the whole time. You didn’t spare Morgan some dirty looks after which he had to force himself not to laugh but he didn’t spare you those languid looks full of lust either.

It wasn’t easy for you but it wasn’t easy for him either since, unlike you, couldn’t hide his excitement so easily. Knowing he had your panties in his pocket and the memory of your wet pussy were giving him no respite.

In reality, you both loved that little game, teasing and torturing each other until the other lost his mind, even if… To be honest, wearing jeans without underwear was complete torture.

At the end of the day, when you were finally all in your own room, you took the opportunity to take a shower and put on a dress and the sexy lingerie you had put in your bag before leaving for the new case.

You giggled just thinking about Derek’s reaction.

You went to his room, knocking twice before he opened the door making your jaw drop and almost fall to the floor when you realized he was naked and only had a towel around his waist.

His body was still wet, sign he had just gotten out of the shower, the drops running down his sculpted chest that you wanted to lick off one by one.

“Oh man…” He sighed. “You’re breathtaking baby,” he began, shamelessly scanning your body from head to toe, a smirk on his lips. “I was wondering when you were coming.”

“You always opening the door like this, Agent Morgan?” You asked ironically before entering his room without even waiting for him to invite you.

“Woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going baby girl? Where is my kiss?” He scolded you, almost truly offended after closing the door behind him.

You giggled, but unable to take your eyes off his body and stop them from wandering hungrily over his figure.

“No, dry yourself first and then I’ll kiss you,” you replied before going to sit on the edge of the bed, placing your hands behind you on the mattress and tilting your head slightly as you looked at him.

He didn’t answer but came closer to you and placed two fingers on your chin, forcing you to lift your head and pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss that took the air out of your lungs.

“Jealous Agent Y/Ln?” He whispered an inch from your lips, referring to your initial question after making you get up from the bed.

“Not even a little bit, it was just an innocent question agent Morgan.”

Absolutely. You were 100% jealous.

But you knew from the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a twisted, mischievous smile he didn’t believe it one bit. “You know, being a profiler I thought you were better at hiding emotions. Lies don’t look good on you pretty girl.”

“That would be true if I had told a lie but that’s not the case, I’m not jealous at all,” you said with a confident tone as your gaze alternated between his eyes and his lips. He was so close and so tempting you felt like you were already losing patience.

“To answer the question, no, I don’t answer to anyone. Just you.”

“You? Derek Morgan?”.

He chuckled. “Strange right? But it seems like you’ve done some weird witchcraft on me because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You already got in my pants, no need to be cheesy,” you retorted, biting your lip to keep from smiling.

He sighed, slightly shaking his head. “Always so cynical. What should I do with you?”

“Give me back my panties?”.

He raised an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten what the word ‘lose’ means?”.

“If I had known you liked them so much I would’ve bought you a new pair to wear you know.”

“You think you’re so funny don’t you?”. He grabbed your face with one hand, his mouth dangerously close to yours but never touching it.

You nodded with a smirk as you watched as his eyes were fixed on your lips. “Maybe you might like what I have now better.”

You took a step back and the look of pure confusion on his face was replaced by astonishment when he saw your hands lower the thick straps of your dress down your arms, then lowering the side zip and letting the dress fall around your feet.

The look of shock on his face was something you’d never forget.

Derek widened his mouth and eyes, letting his hungry gaze travel along your body wrapped in lace lingerie, studying every curve and inch of your skin. A warm feeling spread in your lower abdomen and it was amazing how just the way he looked at you was enough to turn you on.

“Holy shit…” he breathed out, “You… Are… You… Holy fuck…” he continued stuttering, unable to form a single meaningful sentence.

“Wow did I really manage to surprise Agent Morgan?” You giggled, your cheeks flushed and stomach filled with fluttering butterflies, knowing you had such an effect on him. Derek Morgan – the man who with a single smile and a look could’ve make rows and rows of women fall at his feet – was drooling over you, looking at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world.

“I’ll answer you when some blood returns to my brain.”

Your gaze trailed down his body and your insides clenched at the sight of his prominent erection beneath the towel around his waist. Your mouth watered just thinking about what was underneath that single fabric, imagining his dick in your mouth, in every hole in your body as he filled you completely.

“You look spectacular Y/n, my god” he murmured, his chocolate brown eyes still on your body and never on your face. You could see him struggling in not knowing what to pay more attention to, your breasts which were perfectly highlighted by the lace that gave that see-through effect while it showed the shadow of your nipples, if the hold-ups that surrounded your thighs that Derek wanted nothing more than to mark and bite or your pussy also covered in matching lace in which he wanted to dive and feed on it until he drown himself to death.

Derek moved closer to you, closing the small distance between the two of you. “Turn around. Show me this beautiful ass that torments me in my sleep.”

The tone of his voice alone made you almost beg him to do anything he wanted. You didn’t have to be told twice and you turned around, your skin on fire as you felt his penetrating gaze on you as he observed and studied every millimeter of your body.

You heard Derek exhale a deep breath behind you. “A fucking goddess. You’re absolutely mesmerizing.”

A rush of shivers gave you goosebumps as he placed his rough hands on your arms, stroking them slowly before moving up and moving your hair from your shoulders and letting it fall along your shoulder blades, leaving your neck exposed. His lips began to plant kisses on your skin and the mere contact made you sigh and tilt your head to the side, giving him more access.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?” he whispered in your ear and you clenched your hands into fists, pressing your nails into your palms in an attempt to release the frustration you felt. Every second that passed while he didn’t touch you as you wanted there was a shred of your sanity that was shattered.

You shook your head, realizing you hadn’t answered yet.

His hands went down your arms again, then moving up your hips until they reached your ass. You let out a gasp when his fingers tightened around the flesh of your ass, squeezing it, groping it with the sole purpose of torturing you and leaving you eager for more.

“God the things I want do to you baby, you can’t even imagine.”

“Do it Derek, do whatever you want to me… I need you.”

“I love feeling you so desperate for me.”

An empty feeling came over you as his fingers let go of your ass, moving to your hips. However, you moaned when he pushed his body against yours, pressing his erection against the curves of your ass and grinding against you without shame or restraint.

“Fuck Derek,” you murmured, now on the verge of losing your mind.

One of his hands ended up around your throat, forcing you to bend your head and rest it on his shoulder while the other cupped one of your breasts, palpating it over the top of your bra. You sighed, rubbing your ass against his hard dick as you couldn’t wait for it to stretch your pussy.

“That’s what you do to me, you make me so hard I can’t even think straight anymore.” He pinched your hard nipple from above the fabric. “You have no idea how much I want to rip this off of you but I know you’d kill me,” he chuckled in your ear.

“I don’t give a shit.” You blurted out, not evens embarrassed about how fast you said it.

“What do you want baby? Talk to me.”

God it was so damn hard talking when you were so horny you couldn’t even remember your name, the denied orgasm making things worse.

“You. Fuck me, please. I need you so badly Derek.”

He tightened his hand lightly around your neck, cupping your chin then turning your head towards him and before you knew it he slammed his lips onto yours, sucking the breath from your body as his tongue explored your mouth in a sloppy, deep kiss.

He slowly slid the fingers of his other hand – that until a few seconds before were on your breast – along your chest, your lower abdomen, touching your needy and drenched pussy with his fingertips. You whined during the kiss, spontaneously lifting your hips to try and meet his fingers.

God you were hating him at that moment.

“I can smell your wetness from here, is my baby horny for me?” he whispered on your lips swollen and red from the impetuous kiss.

“I’ll fucking kill you right now Morgan I swear to god.”

He laughed and your stomach clenched in on itself. “Don’t worry baby, I’m here. I’m going to fuck your brains out, so good you won’t even be able to get up when I’m done with you.” This time it was your pussy that clenched when you squeezed your legs together for some friction. Derek let go of your throat and began to play with your panties. Your breath hitched as he slowly began to lower them, trailing them down your legs.

“I think I’ll keep these too,” he whispered even as his voice came loud and clear to your ears. You turned your head to the side so you could look at him and let out a ragged sigh when you saw him kneeling behind you. His eyes shone under the light of the hotel room as they looked at you with so much intensity that they alone would’ve been enough to set you on fire.

He left a kiss on your ass, making you gasp to the point of embarrassment as he bit your skin and groped your now bare ass. “One day I’ll fuck this pretty little ass too and you’ll love every second of it.”

“You can start by fucking my pussy now.”

He chuckled again as he stood up. He placed a hand on your heated back, inviting you to lean on the bed in front of you and you obeyed, resting your hands on the bed and giving him a perfect view of your ass.

“I can see from here how wet you are baby girl,” he moved closer to you, his bare thighs touching yours and then you realized he had removed the towel from his waist.

God have mercy on me.

“I’ll eat this beautiful pussy later but now all I can think about is fucking her so good,” he said as his fingers brushed against you and this little contact, combined with his dirty words, made you squirm with anticipation. “After all, you deserve it after being such a good girl all day.”

You felt him place his tip near your entrance and you both moaned as he slid his dick against your folds, wetting it with your fluids. He provoked you, tortured you with every motion, it was what he was best at, he knew which points to touch to drive you crazy and leave you painfully longing.

“Derek please, I want you so much,” you whined in a pathetic tone full of lust and desire as he continued to penetrate you with just the tip and then pull out. You hated him and wanted him at the same time, so much it hurt.

“What do you want, princess?” His hands gripped your hips and he leaned over you, pressing his lips to your skin before leaving damp, wet kisses all over your back.

“Fuck me.”

“Fuck,” he hissed through gritted teeth before lining his dick up with your entrance and finally filling you.

“Oh God yes, you feel so god Derek.” You panted vigorously, your heart beating so hard it almost stopped as you felt his soft and especially bare skin touching every corner of you.

He remained still for a few moments, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to maintain control of his body. You were so wet and it felt so good being inside you, Derek feared that with just one push he would’ve come on the spot.

“Baby please… Move…”

Baby.

Fuck.

That simple little word had no business making his insides twist like he had. You were used to calling each other nicknames, it wasn’t new, but there was something in that ‘baby’ you said: perhaps it was the vulnerability with which you pronounced it, breathless and as if he was the only one who could save you, the way your voice was so full of desire.

Derek pulled out before thrusting into you again with a strong thrust so deep if it hadn’t been for his hands firmly gripping your hips you would’ve probably fallen forward.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell you drive me crazy,” he breathed out, head tilted back and eyes closed as his dick pounded into you like he was angry.

You tried to formulate a meaningful sentence but as you opened your lips only gasps and moans came out. He was fucking you so deeply that with each thrust you felt a piece of your brain coming out of your head and your soul out of your body.

Exactly like he promised.

All the hidden frustration made its way and exploded like a time bomb, not much time passing until even the orgasm began to build inside you.

Your face was pressed into the sheets of the bed, your breathing heavy and quickening as your hands clenched the fabric into a fist. “Derek…” you whimpered in pleasure as you pushed your pelvis towards him with each thrust. It didn’t seem to be enough though, you wanted more and more.

One of his hands continued to hold your hips firmly while he slid the other along your back, until he reached your hair which he tightened in a fist forcing you to lift your head. His moans and groans sounded like music to your ears and you couldn’t contain the joy of knowing it was you who made him feel this way, it was you who made him lose control.

“Fuck I could stay inside you forever, you take me so well. This pussy was made for me,” he groaned as the tip of his dick hit your G-spot, making you see stars. You wanted to answer but when you opened your mouth all that came out were moans and sighs. “Just for me… You understand?”

“Just you baby, only you,” you babbled while loudly moaning, not caring one bit if someone could hear you having sex.

His lips kissed your shoulder, his tongue traced every inch of skin he could reach. “That’s right pretty girl…” he groaned in your ear, his sentence interrupted by another moan. “Fuck yeah you’re mine.”

“Holy shit baby… I’m about to come…” You managed to say and the orgasm that hit you full on like a truck gave you no mercy, didn’t let you escape as it sucked away your ability to breath. If it wasn’t for Derek’s hand still in your hair you would’ve collapsed on the mattress.

His thrusts became unhinged, even more out of control than they were before and it didn’t take long for him to reach his climax too. How could he resist? There was no chance, not when your pussy was tightening around his dick in the throes of orgasmic spasms, leaving him no escape.

Derek exploded inside you, emptying himself into you until the last drop of his seed filled your pussy, then leaking from your entrance and sliding down your thighs as he pulled out.

“Shit,” he breathed as you felt the weight of the mattress dip as he collapsed next to you. “You destroy me baby, how do you manage to do this every single time?”

You mumbled something nonsensical in response, eyes closed and too tired to say anything. He chuckled and stroked your hair, brushing it away from your face so he could get a good look at you.

You were so beautiful, ethereal, so mesmerizing it hurt and seeing that happy and pleased look on your face almost sent him to his knees, internally promising himself he’d fight every single person on earth just to always see you so relaxed and happy.

“How many women do you tell this?” you managed to say, opening one eye and keeping the other closed and a flock of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw the breathtaking smile he was looking at you with.

“If you think there is someone capable of making me feel what you feel, you’re very wrong. Like I already said, I don’t know what strange witchcraft you did to me but you really hooked me baby.” He propped himself up on one elbow and leaned towards you, pressing small kisses across your face, neck, shoulders and all the way up to your lips. “There is no one else since you came in in my life, I’m so obsessed with you it’s not even funny.”

You opened your second eye too, suddenly not so tired anymore. “Really?”

“Why, isn’t the same for you?” he asked, his stomach clenched with jealousy at the thought of a man laying a finger on you. “Please tell me no or someone help me I will kill every man who even looked at you, I’m an FBI agent and I know how to hide dead bodies in such a way that not even the families will ever find them.”

You burst out laughing, and rolled onto your back before throwing your arms around his neck so you could bring him closer to you and press your lips to his. “Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”

“Y/n. Don’t fucking test me.”

“I’m just kidding,” your lips brushed against his before planting another small kiss on them. “There couldn’t be another man even if they forced me, you’ve really messed up my life Agent Morgan and I’m pretty much obsessed with you too.”

“That better be. We’re exclusive since the day I kissed you in that elevator,” he grumbled. “God I love when you call me baby,” he then sighed happily and the way his mood shifted so quickly made. Your fingers caressed his soft, perfect skin and he mumbled with contentment. You noticed how his pupils were so dilated the chocolate surrounding them had almost disappeared. “Mine, only mine.”

“And you’re mine darling, I’m an FBI agent too and I know a thousand ways to make deaths look like accidents.” He pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you so deeply your heart almost stopped in your chest.

Derek Morgan would be the death of you, you were certain of that.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll show you how much we belong to each other princess, how much I look, think and breathe for you only.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16, @ajordan2020, @multi-fandom-lover7667

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[kurishiri]

Mystery Bag 2025 ┊ Team 2: The trash bastards and the troubled fox

Harrison, Alfons, Jude, Nica

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to narrative flow and characterization purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but please don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— the mystery bag 2025 sale is a story set sale where the guys are put into teams and participate in a relay event thing. this is one of three teams (i love al too much to pass this by aa orz)! you can read the prologue, translated by @.judesmoonbeauty, here.

— cw: mentions of drugging or spiking drinks, bribing, and groping.

——Group 2 for the preliminary contest: Harrison, Alfons, Jude, Nica.

[SKY]

Steering committee: Then, we will begin the round for group 2.

Steering committee: Who will reach the goal first and emerge the happy boy for 2025?!

Steering committee: Let us go all out! Take your places, and…start!

[PARK - DAY]

Harrison: Oh, jeez, that was fast. So, why are you guys all standing there?

Alfons: Since the spectators are no longer in sight, so I figured if it was around now or so,

A: it would be a good time to drop this act of competing to the hardest and fullest.

Harrison: What? (O_O)

H: Or wait a minute, I’m pretty sure Al’s no exception; you guys are scheming something weird, aren’t you.

Jude: Who are ya gonna blame when ya don’t have a drop o’ evidence on ya? Way to make others out as the villain.

Nica: Agreed. I wouldn’t dream of scheming anything so bad in broad daylight, you know.

Harrison: Your lies are so damn obvious. I don’t even need to use my ability to figure that out.

H: If you all get caught, would you be alright getting disqualified?

Alfons: Oh, goodness, shiver me timbers. I’ll be honest, so hold your silence, alright?

A: I’m sure you’re aware there is a spot you can take a quick water break a bit up ahead, no?

A: I maaay or may not have pulled an ever so slight trick on the drinks.

A: Said trick being a sleeping drug that can knock one out immediately.

Harrison: You’re the worst.

Jude: Well, seems like somethin’ that walkin’ offense to public morals would pull outta his arse.

Alfons: And what of you?

Jude: Jus’ gave some money on a stick to the committee and told ‘em to tamper with the info and give us the win.

J: There’s been a wave o’ people, so it wouldn’t get outed.

Harrison: You’re no better.

Nica: I’d expect nothing less from the company president, dirtying your hands. Someone as well-bred as me could never.

Harrison: And? What’s up your sleeve?

Nica: Now don’t go lumping me together with that mirror man and president.

N: All I did was use my superior intellect and surveying skills. …Say, did you know?

N: This time, beneath the course there’s a sewer. One that’ll lead you right next to the goal.

N: So I was thinking of slipping underground, bide my time… and take first place.

Jude & Alfons: What a bastard. / Very much as low as trash.

Nica: You guys are the last ones I want to be called ‘trash bastards’ from.

Harrison: Damn, it’s trash bastards left and right.

H: So? What did you hope to gain from all this?

Alfons: Why of course, it’s to use Her Majesty’s authority to do this and that and aaall things in between.

Harrison: I was a fool for ever asking.

H: What about you, Jude?

Jude: Anythin’ goes. There’s a whole load o’ things I wanna do with the Queenie’s authority.

J: Well, I’d bet that bad guy over there would ask for somethin’ ridiculous.

Nica: As if. I’m just trying to earn what I very much love — money.

N: There’s never enough money to go around.

Harrison: If that’s what you really think, then I’ll leave it at that.

Nica: …Being able to pick up on lies, huh. You’ve got a troublesome ability on you, don’t you, Harrison Gray.

Harrison: They said abilities were forbidden. I’m just reading what you’re feeling.

Nica: You’re the only one who’ll ever know if you’re using your ability or not. I’d expect nothing less of the one Cursed by the Lying Fox.

Harrison: Thanks, I guess.

Nica: ——Anyway, what are we going to do from now on?

Alfons: Whatever could you mean?

Nica: I mean, seeing as we all revealed our hands, I can’t imagine this will end nice and smooth.

N: For the record, I’m fine with taking each other down. Since I don’t hold back against bastards and all.

Jude: Ha, I like the sound o’ that. The last one standin’ wins. Simple, clear-cut, n’ easy to understand.

Alfons: Though I can’t say I enjoy such brutish things, I suppose sacrifices may be inevitable.

Harrison: Hey you guys——

Woman’s cry: Ahh!

Harrison: That voice…

Woman’s cry: Someone! There’s a groper— he groped me!

Nica: A groper, huh.

N: Yeah, I figured. There’s bound to be some stupid humans who can’t hold themselves back and take advantage of the festival.

N: I just don’t get it. Well, I’m sure with this crowd, he’ll get caught in no time.

Alfons: I’m sure a man foolish enough to grope others will be caught soon——

A: But as I recall, the direction that man is running happens to be toward the place Kate has come to cheer for us, isn’t it?

Harrison: …I’ll go. I’m worried about her.

H: You guys can do whatever.

Jude: Tch, can’t stand the thought o’ leaving ‘er alone and gettin’ yelled at.

Alfons: Ahha! Are the men who haven’t run that much before going full speed ahead now?

A: What are you going to do, Nica?

Nica: Guess I’ll go too? Standing idle around won’t do much anyway.

[ALLEYWAY]

Groper: Dammit… why are you guys chasing after me! Ah——

Harrison: Okay, caught you.

Jude: Keep that trash bastard o’ a pervert restrained.

Harrison: That was my intention.

H: Ahh, you guys came too?

Nica: Ohh, so this is the groper, huh. Haha, now that’s a face that’ll probably stir up trouble with women.

Alfons: Judging by one’s outward appearance is nonsense. That said, though, he does sport a rather unfulfilled expression.

Groper: I didn’t do it! My hand just happened to touch her butt.

Groper: And besides! Aren’t you guys the one who’s got some unfulfilled desires, stirring up all this fuss all over this?

Alfons: Oh, you happened to, didn’t you.

A: On the way here, I caught onto something, you see.

A: As far as I heard, six women were bringing up how they were getting touched by you.

A: Why that is one hefty coincidence indeed, dare I say.

A: Or could it be your hands were implanted with a magnet that drew you to women’s rears?

Nica: And besides, we’ve got a handy lie detector right here.

N: So? Which is it?

Harrison: Everything you’re saying is a lie. There’s no doubt about that.

H: Well, that’s my intuition, at least.

Groper: …gh.

Groper: D-damn it all! Yeah, okay, I did it!

Nica: Okay, okay, I’ve heard just about enough of that bastard’s dirty voice.

Alfons: Now then, having confessed so honestly, what punishment shall we do?

A: Ahh, come to think of it, our abilities are off the table, aren’t they. Well then, Jude.

Jude: Show that nasty arse o’ yours. The one ya fondled with.

Groper: Guah!

Nica: Wow, that sounded brutal. His bones are probably broken.

Alfons: My heartfelt condolences. Well, what should we do with this knocked out man?

Harrison: Hand him over to the police.

H: Today we’re not Crown and Vogel, but rather just participants.

Jude: Whatever floats your boat. I couldn’t care less.

An unclear cry: Ahh!

Harrison: Another one…? (O_O)

Alfons: What is it this time?

[BRIDGE]

Kate: Ah— guys!

K: There’s a big problem, all the participants who had the drinks from the break spot ended up falling fast asleep!

Alfons: Is that so?

Kate: And then a committee member started to reveal that they’d been threatened and bribed and——

Jude: Hmm.

Kate: And on top of that, it was discovered that someone was going to use the sewer as an unjust move!

Nica: Well, I’ll be.

Kate: Just who could be behind these? It’s too much like what a trash bastard would do, and I can’t look past that!

Harrison: Go on, Kate, keep it going.

Kate: Wha——?

Fin.

team 1 team 2 team 3

ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[shadamyheadcanons]

i love that you don’t put sonic as a jerk in your headcannons but rather supportive! this is so cool, because sonic really wants all of his friends to be happy and with amy wouldn’t be different, specially since they’ve known each other since they were children and sonic himself said that she is a special/dear person to him so i agree he would be happy if amy and shadow got together. as much as i love sonamy, i also love shadamy (sorry for the long ask it’s just that is not that common seeing sonic being portrayed like this in some ffs)

Thanks for the compliment! This one means a lot because I think I’m actually harsher toward Sonic sometimes than a lot of modern shadamy writers are. I say “modern” because new “Amy goes for Shadow because Sonic is a jerk” stories are actually few and far between. It’s easy to think they’re all over the place because there absolutely are a lot of them, but the ones I run into are usually from, like...2012. If you sort by Date Updated on AO3, it tells a different story, pun intended. I believe there are three main reasons for this:

1. Since half of shadamy fans started shipping them in SA2 two and a half decades ago, a ton of us are in our 30s now, writing more mature stories with more fine-tuned characterization. This is one of the advantages of having an ancient ship.

2. It’s a tired trope. We’ve all read a million of them. Most people don’t like how Sonic acts in them for his sake, but my biggest gripe is that they undersell what Shadow has to offer. He’s not just good for Amy because he’s Not Sonic, he’s good for her because of who he is.

3. Sonic treats Amy much better than he used to. The reason “Sonic is a jerk” fics were so common 10-20 years ago is because he was a jerk, almost exclusively to Amy.

These fics exist because no other character works better than Shadow as an arbiter of justice for something that bothered a lot of Amy fans at the time.

More on this under the cut. Lots more. I got kind of carried away.

It’s easy to forget how bad Sonic was when we have games like Frontiers and comics like IDW and Mega Drive now:

Between new fans who aren’t as familiar with older games, longtime fans who haven’t looked at their history in a while, and fans who love Sonic and just don’t want to see him in a bad light, tons of people sweep his old behavior under the rug without even realizing it.

I don’t think any of that is fair to Amy.

A brief reminder of their dynamic in the past:

1. Constant abandonment. He ran from her in Sonic Adventure...

...Sonic Heroes...

And four times in SA2 alone! More on that later.

2. Standing her up on dates. This mostly happened in Sonix X...

[Episode 42, episode 45]

...but there was also Sonic and the Black Knight, where he didn’t show up, didn’t apologize, never made it up to her, and made no attempt to reschedule.

3. Uh...literally hurting her, for some reason...?

At the end of Sonic Riders, when he didn’t feel like properly handling a hostage situation:

Oh, welcome back, episode 42! Didn’t expect to see you again:

The new version of Sonic Generations altered this cutscene, thank god, but back in 2011, players saw this:

4. And the worst part of this, to me, is that he lets her get her hopes up. It’s not just the almost-dates he skips. Knuckles teases Sonic in Heroes, saying, “Are you playing with that girl’s heart again, Sonic?” It’s intended as a joke, but then he does things like this:

Sonic X, episode 52. You know what roses are, Sonic, you know how she’ll interpret this, and you know you won’t follow through.

I know I’m picking on Sonic X a lot, but it was pretty popular at the time, even among fans who didn’t touch the games or comics. This was how they saw these characters growing up, and it made its way into countless fics.

But even after all these years, no matter which continuity you work with...he still won’t give her a solid “no.”

Not liking someone back is fine. Not being interested in a relationship is fine. But letting her believe she’ll win you over if she chases you long enough isn’t, and that’s what he’s doing to this day.

Fans throw around the same tired old “justifications” over and over for why he is/was like this to Amy, but they don’t hold water. People say he’s mean because he doesn’t know what to do with his feelings for her, but he liked Elise, too, and he was nothing but kind to her.

(Putting this here because although fans don’t like to admit it, Elise was indeed intended to be a love interest. She and Amy are presented on par here, so if you think he likes Amy, then he liked Elise, too. You get exactly the same result regardless of who you choose for this trial.)

The other frequent “justification” is that he ran and lashed out because he was afraid of her, often accompanied by awful Amy hate (“stalker,” “psycho,” etc.). This also doesn’t work because Sonic was always harsh to Amy no matter how gentle she was. Classic Amy is the sweetest, most adorable little munchkin in the world...

...and he still ran away.

^ These are from the same exact comic, by the way: IDW Sonic’s 30th anniversary. Five pages apart. How in the world could anyone not want her around?

Amy had more spunk in Adventure and Adventure 2, but she was just as sweet, and he still treated her like a pest to be swatted. The ending of her story in SA1 is this:

But...why should she have to? He treats everyone else with the same baseline of respect, at least until they give him a reason not to. Why is it just Amy? He wasn’t just mean to her, he was uniquely mean to her. She didn’t act out until Heroes in 2003, when she’d already been ignored for years. Standing on the sidelines wasn’t working, so she tried being more “proactive.” Was it the right way to do things? No...but I honestly can’t hold it against her. It makes sense in context. She was a kid, and kids act out when they’re neglected.

And this is where Sonic Adventure 2 comes in.

SA2 was pivotal for Amy. Nearly everyone tossed her aside; Sonic left her behind four separate times in this game alone. First was right after she broke him out of jail on Prison Island. He ran off the second her back was turned:

Second, he and Tails both walked away from her after Eggman blew up the moon. She easily could’ve gotten arrested here.

Third, Sonic and Tails made a plan to stop Eggman right in front of her, blatantly leaving her out of it as if she wasn’t even there:

...which, if you’ll recall, led to Eggman holding her at gunpoint:

...and when Sonic set out to rescue her, this was his recap:

This does not work as a joke given how they treat her. He pretends she doesn’t exist to her face, then says this behind her back.

And immediately after that, when it was time for them to save the world, they left her alone again.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but I was furious by that point.

But then...something interesting happened.

A photoset or gifset can’t do this scene justice, but I think most shadamy fans have already seen it plenty of times. For the few who haven’t, you can watch it here.

The contrast between Shadow and Sonic is impossible to ignore. By building up this moment the way they did, the writers primed us to notice it.

Sonic runs from Amy’s hugs, while Shadow would like more of them, please and thank you.

Sonic pretends she doesn’t exist, while Shadow’s moved to tears and changes the course of his life because he values what she has to say.

Anytime they’ve interacted since then, he’s been uniquely respectful and gentle with her. It’s what she deserves, and for a long time, this was all we had. He was all we had.

The other half of the equation is that it is very, very easy to picture Shadow taking Sonic and the others to task for their mistreatment of her. As a blunt person who’s not afraid to confront Sonic, Shadow is the most believable candidate to this day. The only person to fully respect her from the start also happens to clash with the person who hurts her most often? Of course those fics exist. It’s a perfect storm.

And it’s no wonder that this attitude persists somewhat even now, because Sonic is still doing this, even if he’s “nicer” about it. That prison escape from SA2? The one he never thanked her for? He still gives all the credit to Tails for that, even up through Frontiers:

Amy. Amy broke you out of prison. Tails broke in, and then she snuck through a maximum-security prison, somehow stole a card key, and saved your life. We’re in the 2020s, but he’s still disrespecting her. And don’t get me started on the TailsTube Secret Santa episode.

It feels like Sega wants us to forget all of this ever happened, and it has some very confusing results. From that same Sonic 30th anniversary comic from above, the one where he and the others abandoned her:

Like...this? This is lying. He’s just lying to her. I can’t tell if they think we all collectively have amnesia or if it’s some weird, mean-spirited joke at her expense. I genuinely don’t know what they’re trying to say.

It’s not enough to pretend it never happened and move on, not to me. Sonic should be held responsible for what he canonically did. Him supposedly being bad with feelings didn’t make it hurt her any less, and he’s older than Amy, so he should’ve been the mature one.

The longer the writers keep this up, the worse Sonic looks, and I don’t think that’s what they’re aiming for. Ignoring the problem is not a solution. Amy might forgive, but I’ll never forget.

I just want to see a canon apology so I can reason out why she put up with it for so long. I want to at least be able to buy her having a crush on him. I can do that when he’s being selfless and heroic. I can’t do that when he treats her like the plague, and pretending he never did doesn’t match the Sonic I legitimately like. I bet a lot of s0namy fans would like to see a resolution like that, too.

Sorry to turn your thoughtful compliment into a rant. I really do appreciate it, and I’m glad you enjoy the stories!

[floatingcatacombs]

The Normal Author’s Girlfriend’s List Of Bad Yuri Anime

12 Days of Aniblogging 2024, Day 11

So you’ve seen some good yuri anime: Revolutionary Girl Utena (and the movie, if you want), Bloom Into You, Puella Magi Madoka Magica (plus, of course, Rebellion, which is essential), Bocchi: The Rock!, Girls Last Tour. You know HaruMichi and Farcille and poor sweet Tomoyo Daidouji and Quanxi’s whole deal. You’ve been queerbaited by Kyoani, or maybe you got lucky and watched Dragon Maid which was actually gay; you no longer get weirded out by incest; you wanted more Utena and got The Witch from Mercury S1 (good) or Revue Starlight (bad); maybe you’ve even gone back to Oniisama e and discovered Ryoko Ikeda’s incredible butch-for-butch technologies.

You’ve seen some good yuri and that’s been great. It’s just… there isn’t that much of it. Well, you could start reading manga, or books, or talking to actual women, but you want more yuri anime specifically.

To you, dear reader, I offer up this solution:

Bad Yuri.

Floating Catacombs 2025 Presents:

A Normal Author’s Girlfriend Production

The Normal Author’s Girlfriend’s List Of Bad Yuri Anime

Before we get started, let’s define our terms. First: Bad Yuri must not be in good taste. Second, let us consider some ‘ungood’ yuri, that we might understand what we aren’t looking for:

Case 1: Liz and the Blue Bird.

Boring and forgettable. Bad Yuri must be watchable.

Case 2: Shoujo Kageki Revue Starlight.

Yeah the butchfemme was good but I spent this entire show waiting for KuroMaya and they only got half an episode. I don’t fucking care about ‘childhood friends’. Bad Yuri must be enjoyable.

Case 3: Hibike Euphonium

It has to be gay. Come on. This is like the most basic requirement.

Case 4: MagiRevo, Undead Murder Farce

Being gay is not enough. You have to have actual characters.

In sum: Bad Yuri must be in bad taste; it must be watchable on a minute-to-minute basis; it must not leave the watcher with a bad taste in her mouth; it must actually be gay; and it must have some semblance of characterization. In practice it is basically always violent and horny. We’re talking like Kill La Kill levels, although if you ever want to watch that you should just go see Promare instead. Also, I reserve the right to break any and all of these rules whenever I feel like it. Without further ado:

Cross Ange

Content Warnings: Blood, Violence, Death, Sexual Assault, Ryona, Incest, Bad Taste, Needlessly Edgy, It’s Just Porn At This Point, Incredibly Stupid Plot Twists, Pretty Much Every Fetish

Princess Ange’s traitorous older brother exiles her to an island full of lesbians, where she must pilot a mech to fight dragons in incredibly revealing clothing.

This is Code Geass if it was about a girl and also worse (sorry Roze of the Recapture). This show starts with a baby being arrested. They put the baby in a special little baby jail cage in the back of a police car. The first episode ends with lesbian rape under the justification of a strip search. The weak girls on Pussy Fight Island pull knives on each other at the slightest provocation; the stronger girls pull guns; the strongest girls just use their hands.

It’s got all the subtlety of villainess manga. It’s got girls pissing themselves. It’s got a girl named Riza, short for Lizardia, because she is secretly a DRAGON. Forget ‘Lesbian soldier hopelessly in love with her commander’ – it’s got that too but it has I kid you not a lesbian harem where the top dies in combat so one of the four harem girlies has to turn into a top like a clownfish undergoing sequential hermaphroditism and take over. And then she dies too and the next one in line has to take over and then it happens again and then when it’s down to two one of them leaves because she can tell the current top’s heart isn’t in it and defects to Akio Ohtori’s side, because at least he’s willing to fuck her (lesbian cuckold count: 1) And everybody’s ass is out at all times.

It’s also got a surprising amount of Gundam intertextuality? The comparisons to Iron-Blooded Orphans are obvious; Kira Yamato is there, for some reason; her mecha is the Zeta Gundam but if it was the Strike Freedom with the TR-6 Woundwort’s Psyco Blade Goddess Antenna from Mobile Suit Gundam: Advance of Zeta: The Flag of Titans; the girls in Ange’s squadron each map perfectly to Shaddiq Zenelli’s Grassley girls.

But that’s not what you’re here for. You’re here for the scene where Hilda confesses that she’s in love with Ange but understands that Ange can never love her back, because Ange is already in love with Kira Yamato, and also with Salamandinay, a DRAGON princess from the True Earth who arrived through a dimensional rift to free Aura, the first DRAGON and the source of all magic, before Ange grabs her and gives her a full kiss while telling her that the world she’s fighting to create will have all kinds of relationships.

God Jill is so hot.

Shlock: Maximum

Lesbian: Yes, somehow, and bisexual as well. It is a male gaze thing but that’s going to be a constant with this microgenre. The vast majority of people who like women are men statistically and sometimes thank god they produce something like this

Watchability: High, if you have covid

Quality: Awful.

The Executioner And Her Way Of Life

Content Warnings: Death, Ryona, Incest, Bad Taste, Needlessly Edgy, Incredibly Stupid Plot Twist

Menou is a priestess in Isekai World whose job is to hunt down and kill Isekai Boys before they start causing problems with their Isekai Boy Powers. But this latest Isekai Boy Target… is a Girl With Enormous Tatas who she can’t kill because she auto-rewinds time to erase any wounds.

What really does it here for me is Menou’s relationship with her mentor, Flare, who groomed trained her from a young age to cut off all her emotions in order to make her a better executioner. I’m not immune to Empty Spaces/Combat Dolls/Signalis. What if Christianity wasn’t about raising girls as lambs to the slaughter but was instead about raising girls to use knives to kill people? A seductive premise for those with my particular flavor of religious trauma. Akari is fine, although I feel like Smith (Bravern) did Homura better.

I also like Momo, although I have a weakness for lesbian cuckolds (more on that later, possibly).

Shlock: High

Lesbian: Lesbian

Watchability: Moderate

Quality: Mid

Kakegurui

Content Warnings: Bad Taste, Needlessly Edgy, Boy Protagonist before the story thankfully gets bored of him, It’s Just Porn At This Point

Yumeko Jabami transfers into Gambling Academy, where everybody gambles and failing to pay your debts means being forced into petplay slavery. Luckily for her and unluckily for everyone else she is the world’s most perfect gambler because it turns her on.

Maybe the highest exposure show on this list? It’s got gambling, and sexual gambling, and a girl who can only orgasm if she’s actively taking place in a gamble where she could die. At one point she whacks off in a bathroom playing solo Russian Roulette. It’s got a Netflix original season 2 villain who was a girl forced to dress as a boy for years in ways that drove her sexually insane. It’s got The Tower of Doors, which is the most woman game that any woman has ever played.

My favorite bit character is probably the early villain who collects fingernails from everybody she beats because that’s her fetish, or the hopelessly-devoted Student Council Secretary who wants only to lay her face on the chair where her beloved Student Council President sits (lesbian cuckold count 3; 4 if you count Midori). She asks to gamble with her life and Yumeko says that that’s boring, and that there are things she values more – and that they’ll gamble with one life vs her relationship to the Student Council President instead.

Watch the opening for this one – it’s very clear about what it is, and if it doesn’t hook you it isn’t the show for you.

Shlock: Very High

Lesbian: Surprisingly

Watchability: Very high

Quality: Fine

Akuma No Riddle

Content Warnings: Violence, Sexual Assault, Death, Ryona, Bad Taste, Needlessly Edgy, Fanservice, Various Fetishes

Bishonen girl assassin Tokaku Azuma has received her first assignment: attend the Black Class at Killing People Murder High School and kill sweet and innocent-seeming Haru Ichinose, who she immediately falls in love with. Unfortunately the other eleven members of the Black Class are also there to kill Haru.

And they’re all lesbian or bisexual. And they’re all freaks.

They’re constantly pulling guns and knives on each other. Like every conversation a weapon will come out – possibly two. There’s a lesbian serial killer who really likes using scissors on girls. Sexually. The Student Council President is sexually devoted to the school principal. There’s a twenty-year-old spoiled rich girl with a boy’s name because she was named after her mom, who was a gay man. Her dad was also a gay man. If you dare say anything homophobic about this she will kill you. Two of these girls locked eyes right as they transferred in and immediately dropped everything to engage in a 24/7 ageplay dynamic. The other spoiled rich girl is secretly a cyborg and in love with the multiple personality girl, who wants to kill her as well.

This is by the author of infamous shotacon BL manga Loveless, so I guess all that is to be expected.

Also… Akiko Morishima got really into making doujinshi for this one? Sure.

Shlock: High

Lesbian: Yeah

Watchability: Pretty decent

Quality: Sure

Yuri Kuma Arashi

Content Warnings: Sexual Assault, Bad Taste, It’s Basically Just Porn At This Point, Bears

Lesbian Bear Storm.

For my money, the best Ikuhara post-Utena work is Sarazanmai, but Yurikuma Arashi absolutely earns its spot on this list. The pieces of a story about how lesbian desire is used to titillate a male audience but never fulfilled, how desire is regulated and rendered hideous, and how girls enforce heteropatriarchy by manufacturing consensus completely independent of men are in there somewhere under the moaning naked girls licking honey off precisely-positioned lilies. I think? It’s well-directed, at least.

Shlock: Ikuni

Lesbian: Ikunirappa

Watchability: Ikunichauda

Quality: Ikunigomamonaka

(the first half of) Birdie Wing: Girls Golf Story

Content Warnings: Violence, Bad Taste, Incest but not really, Golf, The Threat of Having To Resort To Survival Sex Work Underlying This Stupid Golf Show

Birdie Wing is the story of a girl who hates golf and a girl who loves golf. Season two fails to make par because it loves golf too much; season one, with the baffling metaverse vr episode, the underground mafia roguelike golf-to-the-death course, the woman who golfs so hard her robotic arm explodes, and the inexplicable Bandai property references, is the way to go.

I hate golf in the way only an eldest daughter forced into golf lessons hates golf. When Birdie Wing hates golf – when Eve swaggers onto the course in her stupid outfits, refusing to adhere to any etiquette, uses only three clubs and slaps a ball directly into the flag to drop it straight down? I love that. When she lifts her driver and points it and says she’ll kill somebody with it? I love that.

Also like when Aoi says she’ll get her attention with this and pulls her extra long driver out and holds it like a strap. And then her beleaguered caddie talks about how Aoi pierces everyone through with an innocent smile. That was good.

The thing that stuck with me the most wasn’t actually any of the golf shenanigans – it was the way that Eve effectively shoots Aoi down when they discover that they shared a father and were therefore half-sisters. Well, it’s yuri – incest is just something you get used to. Except then it gets revealed that that was a fakeout, because Aoi’s dad was actually her dad’s best friend and her parents were in a throuple that the dad who raised her left behind to secretly raise Eve. Also her dad is Amuro Reiya and also Char Aznable is in this one? And the HG Turn A Gundam? Don’t forget to increment the Lesbian Cuckold clock up to five – Aoi herself and her poor caddy, who didn’t deserve a mysterious blonde swooping in like that.

Oh god I didn’t even mention Vipere, the slutty snake-themed bisexual underground mafia golfer (you know, for the underground golf mafia) who uses pheromones to control her opponents, gets outgolfed, and then shonen-rival style sticks around to help out whenever somebody needs a car (as the girls are too young to drive).

Shlock: Absolutely

Lesbian: Somehow

Watchability: High

Quality: Better than it had any right to be

Maria Holic

Content Warnings: Transphobia, Bad Taste, Fanservice

Kanako Miyamae is a hopeless hapless lesbian excited to attend Lily Yuri Girls Only Academy. She falls in love with a beautiful blonde girl, the queen of the school – and discovers her ideal gf is actually a boy crossdressing to attend the academy who wants nothing more than to torment her sexually.

Maria Holic works like this: Mariya wants something from Kanako, and wears a sexual little outfit/exposes his feet/blows her a kiss/strips his maid’s top off to control her through her sexuality or just because he feels like it and she falls over of anime nosebleed disorder before she remembers “oh right Mariya is a boy” and starts eating her own organs Pearl Steven Universe style. Occasionally a girl who calls herself god will say something uninteresting. Kanako has a little pervert fantasy about one of her classmates. The cast has a reference-heavy Studio Shaft Conversation. Kanako can’t get Mariya out of her head. God I had to retype every ‘him’ up there from a ‘her’ because there is no way that little bitch is anything but a girl – it just doesn’t stick in my head. They don’t make boys like that. Torturing a girl like that is a female trait.

If you don’t want to watch a lesbian get relentlessly edged by a brat this show may not be for you. In all honesty even with Studio Shaft direction I found this almost completely unwatchable but it does earn its slot here. If you want a good Studio Shaft yuri show? Go watch Madoka Magica or Hidasketch.

It does have an excellent opening though.

Shlock: High

Lesbian: Well it has at least one

Watchability: No

Quality: No

Re: Cutie Honey

Content Warnings: It’s Basically Just Porn At This Point. but god. Natsuko Aki

“Honey Flash!” yeah she sure does huh

Transforming android Honey Kisaragi fights against evil organization Panther Claw, with the reluctant help of her annoyed cop eventual bestie Na-chan. This is good, actually. Go watch it.

Seriously. The animation is so fun and vibrant! They do the super-cost-saving stills being moved thing in a very high-energy way that comes across as a reference to the original manga format and then every so often they’ll pull out absolutely incredible action sequences.

Look at this!!! Her triangular stompy steps! The super low line count on her as she slowly advances with the gun flying toward her hand! Her Go Nagai snarl!!!!! It’s a real treat for the eyes even without the naked women. There’s only so much “saving your best friend by the power of being naked and kissing” you can do before it stops being bait and starts just being They Are In Love.

Shlock: Absolutely

Lesbian: NATSUKO AKI

Watchability: High

Quality: Yeah

Akiba Maid War

Content Warnings: Genre-Typical, No Spoilers Don’t Worry About it

Go watch this right now.

Shlock: Less than you’d think

Lesbian: Yes

Watchability: Extreme

Quality: Genuine

A Very Specific Set Of Monogatari Arcs

Content Warnings: yeah that guy is sexually harassing that 11 year old and also that tiny little vampire and also both of his little sisters.

Show beloved by pretentious internet perverts.

Alright. You are going to watch Episodes 1-8 of Bakemonogatari Season 1, (skipping 3-5 depending on your tolerance for watching small girls getting sexually harassed) and then you are going to watch the five episodes of standalone arc Hanamonogatari, halfway through Season 2. If you really like Hanekawa, who is bisexual, watch 11-15, Neko Black and Neko White. If you really like animation, watch Kizu. Do not be tricked into thinking more of this show will be gay because Hanekawa and Senjougahara had sex in a shower once. If your goggles are really on tight, enjoy Nadeko Draw but you’ll have to sit through the previous Nadeko and Yotsugi arcs to get there and I can’t in good conscience recommend you do that.

Shlock: Less than you'd think

Lesbian: One

Watchability: SHAFT

Quality: Yes

[skywalkerslvt]

https://www.tumblr.com/skywalkerslvt/755200840017526784/rough-ride-so-rough?source=share

ok so… this but with anakin but reader doesn’t know this time (u don’t have to rewrite that part since we can just imagine Leon as anakin anyways unless you wanna change it up for his characterization. ANYWAYS this is the part where it gets into the cnc territory 😭) so later when everyone is sleeping, anakin goes to readers tent and sleeps with them and reader allows it and anakin tries to make her cockwarm him but ends up cumming instead. Reader wakes up and punishes him 🥰

a/n: tysm for the request! i had so much fun writing this u have no idea. ngl i was very sleep deprived while writing this so plot/spelling might be a bit iffy- i plan on editing this later. but in the meantime i hope u enjoy!! (btw i tried my best to stay on course with the request but lmk if i missed anything lol)

CW: 18+ smut, CNC, somnophilia, orgasm denial, cumming in pants, dry humping, p in v, unprotected sex, mommy kink, sub anakin, 1.9k words

Anakin paced outside of your tent, the cool night air doing little to soothe the burning heat inside of him. Your soft, even breaths could be heard from outside, signalling your slumber, though Anakin already knew you were asleep. He could feel the serenity through the force, such a stark contrast to the raging turmoil currently inside of him.

This was all your fault, really. It had started earlier, while the two of you were on a mission to infiltrate the Separatist communication relay and sabotage it. It was successful and went without too much trouble. However, the journey back to base was a different story.

The Republic Gunship they were using was overcrowded with troops and equipment, leaving little room for comfort. With no other choice, you ended up sitting on Anakin's lap, your back pressed against his chest as the vehicle jolted and swayed through the turbulent atmosphere.

At first, it was just awkward. But as the minutes passed and the vibration of the engines hummed through both of you, the close proximity started to affect Anakin in ways he hadn't anticipated.

His breathing became heavier, but you remained oblivious his growing arousal pressing against you.

You were oblivious to his discomfort, focused instead on the mission and the journey back. Anakin, however, was fighting a losing battle with his desires, trying to control his reactions as you shifted slightly in his lap, your movements unintentional but torturous.

By the time you reached base, Anakin had cum in his pants, and was on the verge of losing control. While the other troopers filed out of the ship, you lingered for a moment, completely unaware of the effect you had on him. Whispering something about getting to your tent to rest, you left Anakin to deal with the aftermath of his suppressed desire.

But before you could make it to your tent, you were dragged away by General Kenobi, who insisted on a debriefing. Anakin had been left aching and desperate, his mind swirling with thoughts of what had happened and what he wanted to happen.

To top things off, Anakin had attempted to make a move on you, asking if he could sleep in your tent that night. You, of course, had agreed, but fell asleep before Anakin could even attempt suggesting the activities he had in mind. The heat of the tent mixed with his arousal was stifling, so he stepped outside of the tent to gather himself.

Now, standing outside your tent, the memory of your innocent touches and unaware proximity played on a loop in his mind. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed you.

Taking a deep breath, Anakin steeled himself and quietly slipped inside the tent. The sight of you lying peacefully on your cot made his heart clench with longing. He approached slowly, his eyes fixed on you as if you might disappear.

He stealthily slid into the cot beside you, making sure not to rouse you from your sleep. You had chosen to sleep in only an oversized shirt that night, the heat in the tent too warm for anything else. Anakin’s cock twitched at the sight of your bare legs, and he knew he wouldn't last long. Good–that was good. The less time this took, the better chance he had at not waking you up.

He pressed himself against you, clothed cock brushing against your ass as he lightly trailed his fingers along your upper thigh and under the hem of your shirt. He bit down on his lip, suppressing his whimpers as he began lightly grinding against your ass, fingers trailing higher until they found your breasts, lightly tweaking your nipples until your body responded to his touch, your nipples pebbling under his fingers. It was enough to make him grind harder, needing to feel the rough friction against his leaking cock.

Anakin felt so dirty, rubbing off on you while you were asleep, completely oblivious to how needy he was for you. But he just couldn't help himself, not when you teased him every day, leaving him stiff and wanting. Not when the sight of you alone could make him stiffen in his boxers.

Anakin, still kneading your breasts, was panting against your neck. He wanted–no, needed–to cum so bad, and his current movements against your pliant, sleeping body weren't working. He needed more.

Slowing his hips, he reached a hand between your bodies, and pulled his pants down just far enough for his cock to spring free and slap against his stomach. He positioned his flushed, leaking tip between the top of your thighs, and slowly pushed in, nearly moaning at the feeling of the plush flesh of your thighs squeezing around his cock. He was like a dog in heat, desperately fucking your thighs just to feel something–anything.

His movements only faltered once, his hips stuttering and the grip on your breasts loosening as you shifted and mumbled sleepily, but once Anakin realized you were still fast asleep, he continued.

His cock was grinding against your cunt, the thin panties being the only barrier between him and what he so badly wanted, and as your body reacted to his touch, Anakin could feel your panties dampen with every thrust.

God–it wasn't enough. Anakin needed to feel you–feel the warm, wet walls of your cunt squeezing around his cock. So he reached down and slid your panties to the side, positioning his flushed head at your entrance and pushing in.

It felt so good–too good. He stilled inside of you, panting as he reveled in the all consuming pleasure your cunt gave him. But poor Anakin was too pussy-drunk to notice your shifting, the protrusion in your cunt rousing you from your sleep.

“Oh, Anakin. I knew you were a desperate slut, but I didn't think you were this desperate.”

Anakin froze at the sound of your voice, a deer caught in headlights. He flushed from head to toe, stammering out a bunch of incoherent excuses. Not saying a word, you slipped his cock out of your cunt and moved to straddle him, pinning his hips beneath your own.

“You've been a very, very bad boy, Anakin,” you scolded as you positioned his cock at your entrance once more. “Did I tell you today that you could fuck me?”

Anakin shook his head, unable to form words at the feeling of you sinking down on his cock once more. You left a harsh slap on his cheek, then grabbed his face, urging him to meet your eyes. “Use your words.”

Anakin's breath hitched as he struggled to speak, his voice barely a whisper.

"No, you didn't," he managed to say, his eyes wide and pleading.

"That's right," you said, your voice low and dangerous. "And yet here you are, playing innocent and asking to stay in my tent, then using my body for your pleasure. You must really be desperate."

Anakin whimpered as you began to move, slowly at first, grinding down on him in a way that made his head spin. "I'm sorry," he breathed, his hands gripping your hips in a futile attempt to control the pace.

"Sorry isn't good enough," you hissed, slapping his hands away. "You need to learn your place, Anakin. You're mine to use, not the other way around."

His eyes rolled back in his head as you picked up the pace, riding him with a relentless rhythm that had him teetering on the edge of sanity. "Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please, can't-"

"Oh, you can," you interrupted, your voice dripping with condescension. "You're going to take everything I give you, and you're going to thank me for it."

Anakin could only nod, tears of pleasure and frustration mingling in his eyes. He was completely at your mercy, and he loved it. The way you controlled him, used him, made him feel like he was nothing more than a toy for your pleasure-it was everything he craved.

"That's right," you purred, leaning down to capture his lips in a bruising kiss. "Good boy, Anakin. Now, let me hear you say it."

He choked on a sob as he thrust up into you, his voice trembling with need. "Thank you," he gasped. "Thank you, Mommy."

You smirked, pleased with his obedience. "You're welcome," you whispered, your movements becoming more frantic as you chased your own release. Just as he was on the brink of release again, you suddenly stopped moving, lifting yourself off him and leaving him desperate and throbbing.

Anakin's eyes flew open in shock, a pitiful whine escaping his lips. "No, please," he begged, his voice breaking. "I need to cum. Please, don't stop."

You smiled cruelly, enjoying his desperation. "You think you deserve to cum after sneaking into my tent and using me? I don't think so."

His hands gripped the sheets in frustration, his body trembling. "Please, I'm sorry," he pleaded. "I’ll do anything. Just let me finish."

You leaned in close, your breath hot against his ear. "You're going to have to earn it," you whispered. "And right now, you haven't earned anything."

Anakin's body ached with need, but he knew better than to disobey you. "Yes, Mommy," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want."

You sat back, smirking down at him. "That's better," you said. "Now, let's see if you can behave yourself."

You moved off him completely, leaving him lying there, desperate and aching. "Get on your knees," you commanded.

Anakin scrambled to obey, positioning himself at the edge of the cot. You sat on the cot in front of him, lifting your foot to rest on his thigh.

Slowly, you began to stroke his cock with your foot, the rough feeling of your skin against his making him shiver.

He moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily. "Please," he whispered. "Please, I need to cum."

You chuckled softly, continuing your teasing strokes. "You think you can just cum whenever you want?" you asked, your tone mocking. "You're going to have to beg for it."

Anakin's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he did as he was told. "Please, Mommy," he begged. "Please, let me cum. I'll be good, l promise."

You stopped your movements, making him whimper in frustration. "Good boys get rewards," you said, reaching down to grab his chin, forcing him to look up at you. "Bad boys get punished. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mommy," he whispered, his eyes filled with desperation. "I'll be good. Please, let me cum."

You released his chin, stepping back and allowing him to collapse onto the cot. "We'll see," you said, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "But for now, you're going to have to wait."

Anakin's body trembled with unfulfilled need, but he knew better than to disobey you. "Yes, Mommy," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I'll wait. I'll be good."

You smirked, pleased with his obedience. "That's better," you said. "Now, let's see how long you can last."

As the night wore on, Anakin's desperation only grew, but he knew that he had to earn his release. And as he knelt there, waiting for your permission, he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. He was yours, completely and utterly, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to please you.

[selfishdoll]

WHAT A WASTE ! ft. feitan portor ೀ ׅ ۫ . ㅇ

▌   you wanted it so bad, you don’t get to stop.  𐚁֙࿐ㅤㅤ it’s a shame, truly a shame; you being unable to contain yourself whilst your classmate examined your body for an assignment. but it’s fine, really— feitan doesn’t mind completing a detailed exam.

CONTENT WARNING(S) 𐚁֙࿐ㅤㅤ ooc feitan, please understand it’s been a minute since i’ve watch hxh & i’m going off my own interpretation plus a bestie’s. so if you expect him to be the perfect characterization you have the wrong fic | heavy degradation w/ minimal amounts of praise | strangers to ? (will there be a part 2.. maybe 🤭) | spanking | manhandling | usage of the words “slut, minx, & whore.” | all is consensual & feitan asks ofc | multiple orgasms | dacryiphilia | unprotected sex | creampie | cowgirl | reader is taller then feitan but he’s stronger then her | pussy slapping | overstimulation | hair pulling | softer feitan at the end? | impact! play | hints of sadist(?) feitan | accidental recording | feitan “threatens” to send the video to their professor (he wouldn’t actually do it, far too possessive..) | bitch is used once | etc. if i forgot something please let me know.

AUTHOR’S NOTE 𐚁֙࿐ㅤㅤ i’m sure assignments like these are not actually done but i got the idea randomly when seeing fanart of him. also expect more works of feitan, chrollo, & maybe the other adult characters except hisoka. also he wasn’t as mean as he should have been because i’m a very sensitive person & it shows in my writing 😭. and always please excuse any typos & grammar mistakes. 4K+ WORDS

Snap! The sound of the thin gloves had you jumping for a split second, eyes carrying away from the phone taking in your position on your bed to the man standing just a few feet away from you. Feitan Portor, a classmate you’ve never got the pleasure of talking to. Which wasn’t surprising at all, given he ignored just about everyone in class.

Eyes focused on his notes, the textbook, or glued to the images of the human anatomy your professor would plaster upon her smartboard. Those were the only instances you could remember of the unimpressionable man.

Yet now, here he was; in your room adjusting the gloves on his hand whilst you waited ever so patiently.

Becoming a surgical resident was a grueling process on its own, but having to work with the most quiet man alive just made it even worse. You felt so uncomfortable, wondering if you should speak or not— if it was alright to breathe.

As, no matter where you looked, said, or did; he seemed to be agitated.

Or maybe that was just his face, who knows?

A step in your direction caused the thoughts to dissipate, eyes flicking over to the man that stood off to the side of you. His eyes looked at you expectantly, impatience enveloping his gaze. Such intensity caused a sheepish sorry to escape your glossed lips, pushing off the slippers you wore with a hum. You then turned your body to lay across your plush blankets, arms stuck to your sides whilst your head rested on your pillow. A soft breath flew from your nose, tensing the moment he stepped closer.

The idea of the group project was being able to label the muscles of a human off paper. You were sure this type of assignment was for closer students but you drew the short end of the stick. Then again, it wasn’t too bad; Feitan didn’t seem like the perverted type— you highly doubted he would take advantage of such a situation.

His form moved closer, knees pressed against your bed as his hands hovered above you. Feitan’s eyes fell to your legs, mentally deciding to start there first.

Which.. wasn’t the best for you.

As his hands dragged up from his ankles and further; lips moving to utter the muscles beneath your skin— you felt a warmth brew inside you. Was it the feathery touches? Maybe you were touched starved even..

Either way, as he got closer and closer to your middle; you felt the heat threatening to spill over. Fuck.. you were done.

His hands were.. warm, the feeling seeping through the thin blue gloves he wore— large, a complete contrast to his smaller form, which barely reached your bust. They ghosted you perfectly, teetering between respectful and disinterested as they brushed your covered hip. Maybe you really were touch starved, or maybe an inkling of attraction towards the man rested deep within you. Either didn’t matter given the little gasp and flinch that escaped you was clear as day.

Feitan’s hands stopped just on your lower stomach, eyes snapping to your face. Oh, was he annoyed. Aggravated you had interrupted him whilst attempting to complete the assignment. Your manicured fingers bundled the plush blankets beneath you, lips parting slowly to speak;

“‘M sorry..”

“Your constant twitching is bothersome.” The man hissed softly, eyebrows brushing close as his face turned to glance back down your body. “A single touch and you’re trembling..” Feitan spoke, actions solidifying his words the moment a hand grasped your hip, thumb pressing into your plump, covered skin. The warmth you felt from his hand was stimulating, trickling between your legs— causing the plush limbs to push together. An action the man caught easily.

An annoyed sigh escaped him, hand withdrawing from your body whilst his eyes bore into your form. “What a waste.. getting aroused during an exam, specifically when we were so close to being done.”

“I am not.. I am not aroused.”

The man sucked his teeth at your words, eyebrows pushing even closer together as irritation formed his features. Feitan remained unmoving for a moment, simply staring you down before he leaned over, taking your cheeks in a tight grip and lifting you a bit off the bed. “So you’re not only a slut, you’re a lying one at that.”

A hiss tugged his words, fingerprints pushing into your heated skin whilst his eyes stared you down— daring you to deny. A stranger he was, nothing more than a classmate yet; here you were, so open and pliable for him. Staring up at him as if the venom spewing from his lips were the sweetest things ever.

Your head tilted down just a tad, gripping the sheets as you struggled to hold his gaze. “‘M not a slut either.”

“A pervert then—“ Feitan countered easily, fingers tapping against your skin while tilting his head. The moment your lips pulled into the tiniest pout a grin was pulling his own, thumb reaching over to press against your glossed mouth, “— is that more fitting? You laying here; waiting so desperately to be touched..” Feitan removed his hand from your face slowly, watching in amusement at the way you tried to follow his grasp.

“What a display really.. the only thing that is missing, is you begging.”

The anticipation welling inside you was threatening to explode, thighs pushed close as the heat rose within the room. Feitan enjoyed such a sight, piercing eyes taking you in— interest for once swirling in his irises. Finally, his eyebrows rose, even going as far as tilting his head.

Breath escaped you as you took him in, Feitan Portor your classmate and very much a stranger. And despite such formalities here you were, gripping the sheets, lips parted as pretty pleas escaped you.

Feitan sighed softly reaching down once again, taking your cheeks in his hand; a grasp you’ve already come to adore. “Speak up.” He hissed, fingers pressing into your hot chubby cheeks whilst his gaze never left you.

“Ple..please Feitan, please— I need you..” You cried out, eyes dipping down as the embarrassment settled in. Feitan didn’t allow this to settle for long, hand dropping to collect your chin more and pushing you to force the gaze.

“Need me?..” His tone was airy, a snicker even passing through his lips; such sound causing further shyness to trickle down your spine. “We’ve only just met.. just interacted,” Feitan drawled and not so gently pushed you to lay across your bed, crawling over your form. Your legs parted to rest on other side of him, gripping the sheets in excitement.

“And yet, you need me. Such a desperate thing, aren’t you?” Feitan dipped down close, hands pressed on either sides of your head, hovering just above your face. He watched as your eyes fluttered close, surely expecting a kiss. Instead his face was dropping to your neck, teeth sinking into your skin abruptly.

The hiss, mixed gasp that escaped you was loud, hands flying to his black shirt whilst he sucked and bit into your skin; dark marks forming from the attention. His hands moved across your body, falling down to your thighs— sliding under them to push them even wider. Once satisfied he was moving in closer, pushing your dress up to your stomach whilst using his free hand glide across your covered slit. Your hips rose to find friction, yelping the moment he pinched you lightly.

“Quit moving..” Feitan huffed, fingers pressing just a bit harder against your covered wetness, finding your clit and slowly stroking it. The little sparks of pleasure were sweet but barely enough, the burning impatience brewing inside you caused a whine to escape your throat. The dark-haired male clicked his tongue, eyes flicking from your thighs to your face. “Impatient slut..” He hissed, hand pulling from your covered, wet cunt.

You wanted to whine again, but instead— Feitan forced a sharp yelp out of you the moment his palm struck your pussy. Your thighs closed around his hand, tears springing into your eyes as the pleasure and pain combined into a single, sickeninly sweet feeling. The grin on his face was telling, clearly delighted by the high pitched cry that escaped you so freely.

A sound he chased; pushing at your thighs again and slapping the exact same spot. A wet sound entered the room, followed by an even sharper cry from your mouth. Your body rose up off the bed, cunt throbbing from the attention as your heart pounded against your chest.

A snicker, one far too sinister escaped the man above you, pushing your thighs back down to the bed. “Hurts doesn’t it?..” The humor was clear in his tone, pushing you even wider as his eyes trained on the prize between them. “As if I could tell, making such a mess all over your sheets.” Feitan claimed, reaching over and finally; peeling your ruined panties from your body.

The undergarment was tossed to the side, his thumbs pulling your folds as his eyes focused completely on your wet sex. Clit throbbing, hole clenching around nothing, you truly were such a mess.

“Feitan..” You spoke softly, nearly shifting under his gaze if it wasn’t for the quick glare he sent you. You decided to simply bunch your dress up in your hands, eyes fluttering closed the moment his fingers gliding across your abused slit.

Slowly, the man collected your arousal onto his still gloved fingers, the thin latex pressing against your wet cunt. And without warning, two digits were pressing into your awaiting hole; sinking all the way down to his knuckles. Feitan didn’t wait for you either, scissoring and thrusting them in and out of you— the soft squelches soon filling the room.

Your moans escaped you freely, acrylics gripping your dress as your legs threatened to close. His fingers hit all the right places as precise and calculated as he was with suturing. So perfect.. fuck, so so perfect; you felt your brain getting hazy, cries of pleasure escaping as his fingers pushed against your hot gummy walls— essence spilling with each push.

As if the pleasure couldn’t get any better his thumb lowered to your begging bud, teasing it for a moment just to hear you whine— right before rubbing harsh circles into the sensitive button. Feitan’s eyes captured it all, free hand gripping your other thigh to assure you didn’t move an inch.

If you wanted.. needed him so bad, you would be sure to take everything he gave you.

Once the third finger pushed in, you were thrown off the edge; groaning at the sudden stretch yet moaning as it worked in tandem with the other fingers. He played with you so easily, pushing spots with just his fingers— much deeper then your own has ever reached.

“F—fuck.. Feitan.. feels soo good—!”

Feitan grinned down at your display, listening to the breathy praises that continued to escape you. How you begged so much for a release, hips rising to meet the thrusts of his fingers; withering beneath him. “What a fucking mess..” He drawled, eyes flicking to his hand to watch your sticky arousal coating the blue latex. This only caused his expression to deepen, quickening the pace of his hand whilst hanging his head; mouth brushing against your ear.

“This was the only thing you were thinking about, weren’t you? The moment I walked into your bedroom, you were just itching to feel me.. such a perverted slut— [Name].”

His words, tone, the way his fingers bullied your insides; Feitan was just so fucking mean. Yet here you were, eyes rolling to the back of your skull while the loudest moan escaped you, making a mess of his hand. Your arousal trickled down his fingers to his palm, ruining his glove even further.

However, even as your orgasm raked through your body his fingers never stopped moving; pushing you further and further, sensitivity rising as breathy whines escaped you. Forgoing his threat from earlier, your hand lowered to his wrist. With each movement the muscle was tensing, your thumb pressed against his pulse to feel his rapid heartbeat— in sync with your own.

“Ca—can’t fuck it’s too much!”

Such noises fell on deaf ears, his pace continuing but not moving your hand. The man wouldn’t dare say he enjoyed your grasp around his wrist.

“Too much?..” Feitan mocked, gripping your thigh when you attempted to shut your legs. The pretty whines escaping your throat was answer enough, his eyes gleaming with excitement as his thumb continued working circles into your clit; fingers never faltering inside your wet walls.

From just his fingers, just his fingers you were so lost. A fucking babbling mess whose long forgotten the entire purpose of him being in your room.

Your stomach tightened, the feeling bordering on painful, as your next orgasm got closer and closer. Pushing through the pain, your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate for the euphoric feeling again— only for it to be snatched away the moment he removed his fingers.

Your clit throbbed, hole fluttering around nothing as your hazy gaze soon focused on the man between your legs. The annoyed moan that escaped you was shameless, lips slick with your saliva pushed into a pout. “Why’d you.. I was so close!” You spoke, watching his eyelids lower.

Feitan moved to hover over your body, hands sinking into the spaces beside your head whilst pressing his hips to your own. “Said it was too much, right? Or are you already too fucked out to remember?” His hips moved slow, grinding the hardon within his pants into your wet, uncovered slit, your essence darkening his bottoms.

You weren’t given a second to dwell on his words or even muster a reply. Because the moment his hips moved yours were as well, head knocking back against your blankets as the light pleasure danced up your spine; stirring you inside. Your hands rose to bunch his shirt in your fingers, shaking underneath him as the desperation oozed from your heated body.

Feitan’s hand rose, taking your braids in a secure hold, pulling your head up from the bed to bring you a breath’s away. “Humping me like some bitch in heat.. So fucking needy.” A hiss hugged his words, as if aggravated from your actions. However, he was far from irritated, far from angry— enjoying you far too much.

You just looked so pretty like this; wet trails running down your chubby cheeks, dress and blankets wrinkled, with your legs wide— a clear invitation to ruin you even further. The sight was.. unbelievable, one he was delighted to keep all to himself.

“Feitan, please..” You dragged, hips pushing against him more, craving the friction and something else. He should have slapped your thigh or even pinch you for your impatience but fortunately for you, Feitan was just as needy. A huff escaped you as he released your hair, hands dropping to your hips. You silently questioned this, only for him to pull you up, you in his lap with his legs hanging off the bed.

You hovered above his lap, watching intently as he shoved off his bottoms; revealing his hard, long length. The tip was bubulous and red, a contrast to his paler skin. What’s more, pretty white pearls of precum oozed from the slit, twitching from the cool air in the room. Your hands found his shoulders, eyes flicking to his face as nerves settled in the pit of your stomach.

Feitan didn’t do much to ease your anxiety, even finding it a bit comical. His hand rose, shifting under your dress to stroke the dimples etched into your lower back. “What’s wrong?.. Don’t tell me you’re backing out now, [Name].” He watched as your eyebrows pushed together, lips pulled into an annoyed pout.

“I’m not..” You huffed softly, nails digging into his skin as your hips lowered just a smidge, jumping the moment his tip bumped against your throbbing bud. “Just.. g—give me a second.” You spoke, hips moving, lining his cock up with your entrance. A whimper escaped you the moment his tip breached the warm space, sinking down slowly whilst more breaths escaped you.

His hands were steady on your body, holding you up and watching in excitement as you trembled. Your walls clenched around him, slick coating his length as you reached just the middle. The stretch teetered between painful and pleasurable, eyes closed shut as you allowed yourself a moment of rest. A moment that dissipated rather quickly, given Feitan lifted his hips; shoving his length the rest of the way inside.

You tipped over, leaning into him as a sharp whine escaped you. You fisted his shirt, seated completely in his lap as huffs escaped you. “Feitan—!” You cried out, feeling his hand lift to the back of your head, taking your braids in his hand as he lifted you from his form.

“Such a crybaby..” Despite his words, his eyes searched you for any discontent or actual pain, lip tucked behind his teeth. When he found neither — ignoring the light feeling in his chest — the man’s hand fell to your hips, gripping the plump flesh. His fingers dug into your sides, lifting you up off his length until only the tip resided inside— before pulling you back down.

The moan that escaped you was far too sweet, nails pushed into his skin as your hips began to move without restraint. You were so uncoordinated, so fucking messy as you bounced up and down his cock; whimpers thrumming from your throat. The sounds carried around the room; the wet slaps each time you slammed down, your desperate moans, and the subtle grunts Feitan would release every so often.

With each moment of your hips his tip was striking the sweet spot inside you, your walls clenching around his slick length— fresh tears beading and threatening to spill over. A hand rose from your hip, driving up the plane of your stomach to grip one of your breasts; pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers just to hear your voice pitch.

Feitan, Feitan, Feitan! His name was falling from your lips like some type of prayer, knees digging into the mattress as the pleasure consumed your body. You were so fucking lost, lost in the throes of it all with only him to guide you. A faulty anchor he was, pulling you deeper and deeper; leaving your mind so hazy and bleak.

The show you were unveiling was such a delight, the man far too happy to have the front row seats. He pushed closed, hips rising to meet your drops as he grew just a breath’s away. “Keep clenchin’ me so much.. you’re close aren’t you?” Feitan’s voice was ragged, feeling your breath fan across his face. The whimpers that escaped you was enough of an answer, his hand rising to your throat to simply hold— placing his lips onto your own for the first time this afternoon.

The kiss was as heated as the rest of the room, as intense as the moment his hands settled onto your skin. Feitan’s tongue intruded your mouth, licking into the wet cavern to claim as his own. And the moment you attempted to pull away to breathe, his teeth were sinking into your bottom lip; swallowing you back up.

It didn’t matter if you were on top or not, you and him both knew who was in control.

Your hands rose, curling into his black tresses as you felt your peak approaching quickly. You moaned and whined into his mouth, legs shaking as the band tightened deep in your stomach. The tears were flowing freely now, Feitan releasing you this time to hear the haste babbles that escaped you.

“Fu..fuck Feitan! I—I’m gonna come—!” You cried out, the bounces becoming even messier. You felt his hot hands fall to your ass, slapping a cheek as if encouraging you to ruin yourself even further.

“Fucking minx..” Feitan hissed out, eyebrows pinched close, cock twitching within you. “Make a mess than.. don’t hold it.” The confirmed huff was enough for you, creaming all over his dick as you arched into him. The feeling caused a shiver to run down the man’s spine, hissing as you clamped around him.

As you rode out your high, your movements slowed— lurching forward the moment his palm slapped your ass again. The high-pitched whine that threatened to escape was quickly overshadowed by his words;

“I never said stop, did I?” His hand traveled to your hair again, tugging just to hear you whine again. “You wanted it so bad, you don’t get to stop.” Feitan spoke, gripping you to keep you grounded before lifting you up and off his length. The added fact he was matching each thrust was enough for you, head tossed back as the moans slipped from your bruised lips freely and shamelessly— eyes meeting the back of your skull.

The breathes that escaped you was strained, the pleasure far too much but you being unable to run from it. It seems his height went to his strength, holding you so fucking tightly you couldn’t move an inch. Leaving you defenseless, making you take every inch without mercy. The sensitivity dissipated quickly, leaving behind unadulterated ecstasy that caused stars to invade your vision.

Proper words no longer escaped you, babbles of his name and praises replacing such intelligible speech. But Feitan knew enough what you were trying to say, grin still plastered on his features, like some type of madman.

You were sore all over, struggling to keep going but so desperately chasing the release that was bubbling inside of you. You fell forward, forehead brushing his own as his tip brushed your cervix. The pain mingled with the pleasure easily, cunt pulsating around him as you felt yourself grow closer and closer.

In the past hour Feitan had grown to know your body. Each twitch, spasm— everything. He didn’t need to be warned of your climax, especially since he felt the way your walls clenched with urgency. Such a feeling pushed him closer to his own end, blunt nails etching crescents into your sun-kissed skin as he rose up off the bed; fucking you even harder.

The two of you leaned forward for a sloppy, messy kiss; moaning and groaning into the other’s mouth. The hurried slaps of skin on skin contact intensified for a split moment before stuttering as the man spilled inside you.

This was enough for you, coming on his dick again; your releases mixing together and trickling down his cock. Slowly, the two of you pulled back from the kiss; a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your chests brushed against each other, breath heavy and fanning against the other. The flat of his palms pushed against your waist, pulling back to look at you. “Get off me.”

“Give me a moment to breathe, Fei.” You spoke, used to his harsh tone by now. Despite the small annoyed sigh that escaped him, the man didn’t push you off; even leaning back onto his hands and allowing you to remain in his lap— length still inside your wet sex.

A pleased sigh escaped you, arms tightening around his neck as you leaned into him fully. His eyes darted to the side of your face for a moment, an unreadable expression crossing his features.

A comfortable silence covered the room for a moment before Feitan spoke again, amusement etched into his words;

“I wonder if the professor will like our.. exam.”

Your eyes flew open at this, glancing down at the grin plastered onto his features. Sure enough, the moment you turned, you spotted your phone on your tripod— still recording.

The next ten minutes was spent fighting the shorter man for your phone, him managing to grab it, and you pleading for the video to not be sent.

FEEDBACK & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[drarry-reccage]

The Superfluous Man by peu_a_peu (25k, E)

Tags: mpreg, drarry in their 30s, potions, luna lovegood

Choosing not to participate was not the same as failing, Draco decided. “We don’t all hit the ceiling when Potter says Leviosa. In fact it’s possible to build a life that doesn’t even revolve around him. Probably not for you two, but I’m sure being an adult sidekick has its rewards.” “Merlin, listen to him,” Weasley said, not to Draco but to Granger. “Did we step through a Floo or a Time-Turner?” “As if, Ron, look at him,” said Granger, who was not exactly a nubile eighteen-year-old herself, thanks. “Can we please go? If Lucius and Narcissa come in here, I think I’ll scream.” “Right, off we go,” Weasley said. “Enough silliness, Malfoy, get your shoes on.” Some sloppy wandwork from Weasley dumped Draco’s bit loafers at his feet. “No, I won’t,” Draco said. Then, fearing they’d leave: “Where are we going?”

I added this to the author note of my podfic, but this is me trying to be eloquent about peu's writing while expressing why I love her fics so much.

Now that reveals have happened, I can express more fully my delight in this fic. It was only until I was about halfway through reading this for the first time that I started to think about the mystery author. And instantly, I knew who it was. Peu has such a distinct style, not only in writing, but in her characterization of Draco and Harry. The tenderness and biting humor and faux confidence all mix together to make an irresistible pairing.

Rookie Moves was written from Harry's POV and in this, you're treated to a story from Draco's POV. He manages to make me laugh and feel tender towards him, even as he acts like an ass, and if the end doesn't melt your cold dead heart, I don't even know what to tell you.

rec by @sweatersinthesummer

🎧 podfic by me (2.5 hours)

[barbatusart]

bit of thinking outloud but for my current tactician run im doing a special wyll origins playthrough im calling the Evil Wyll Run & it’s given me a lot of food for thought about his character (or at least the freedom of psychological movement + exploration afforded to an origin run!)

wyll spoilers abound we’re entering the wyllenium here

wyll always felt a bit underwritten to me - i know that’s partially because there was that big kerfuffle in the 11th hour with changing his whole story and personality on top of having to recast his VA, and frankly hats off to both original VA lanre malaolu & new VA theo solomon for their hard work - both brought tremendous performances, & i sincerely hope mr malaolu was paid well for his work & time even if his voice wasn’t used in the final cut (i would also say warlock as a class itself felt a bit underdeveloped but im 100% OK with chalking that up to me the player not understanding how to play warlock effectively yet lol im more of a fighter barbarian Hit Stuff guy)

but honestly this feeling of being “underwritten” combined with a character with a long history of heroism in his pocket made wyll really interesting to me even in my tav playthrough. for all his accomplishments he still feels like a blank everyman, or like he’s someone who fully believes he’s the main character who doesn’t “need” to do any extra work on himself - and honestly he feels Very much like he could be The Main Character. once his backstory of the son of the duke was revealed too i immediately got the sense of like, rich boy trying to prove his worth beyond his wealth and status by striking out & becoming that hero, or that Prince Charming. basically that perfect happily ever after somebody. and im of the opinion that you don’t get mixed up with a cambion in the first place unless you’re either the kind of naïve “everything will just work out” immature that tends to comes with his status as the son of a noble, or you’re hungering for power. depending on playstyle he’s very easily both of these things

on the naïve front (ie a good wyll playthrough) if anything he feels very believably immature, & from that perspective the events of the game feel as though they’re the prequel to the actual start of wyll's story where he finally finds himself & learns what kind of man he really is. we just dont get to see it alas, but i really enjoyed the thought exercise of somebody still grappling with overcoming his own immaturity. he feels like someone who can still grow and that his tale is just beginning

Evil Wyll (meaning any time mizora shows up he drops everything to enact her instruction & hasnt once tried to find a loophole out of his contract) which ive come to be far more fascinated by is someone clearly vying for power, which is interesting because his noble status would’ve given him all the power he wants had he Played Nice. to me it speaks of someone who wants to be able to take what he wants from life without it being handed to him, which contrasts in a really fascinating way with entering into a warlock pact at all. maybe he thought it was better that it be a decision he made as opposed to nobility given to him by his family ties, maybe there’s still that pollyanna sentiment of “it’ll just work out & ill live happily ever after.” again maybe both. maybe in a sense the fiend, as he calls himself, is a good excuse to shuck off any poor decision he makes or any genuinely heinous thing he does under mizora’s instruction - an identity he uses as power fantasy (and very much in tandem/interchangeable with the blade of frontiers power fantasy) until it means taking ownership for any of his misdeeds, and then a scapegoat.

may be a bit incoherent but im only now hitting act 3 in my origin run & im Really enjoying this difficult characterization ive cooked up for myself lol

[fuumiku]

Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.

[riofann]

8. tempestuous

Tempestuous: characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion.

Previous Chapter

Thursday February 4, 2021

You walk into the bar, it was empty but he was there sitting facing the bartender. 

When he sees you he has a slight smile on his face and pulls the bar stool closer to him (A/N: We all know this infamous scene). 

“You rang?” He smiles but doesn’t say anything “What do you want?” 

He turns to face the bartender before facing you and smiling “Get her a tequila sunrise”  expecting you to object

You turn to face the bartender “a water please” 

The bartender nods and scurries away sensing the tension

“Why don’t you take a seat?” he pulls out the barstool so you could slide in Unphased by his gesture you say “No, let's just get this over with Rio. What do you want?” 

He takes in a deep breath and faces the bar, he hoped that with time you would have calmed down, he did, he had moved past it. 

“I need double the amount” he speaks before taking a sip of his drink 

“For how long?” 

He shrugs “I don’t know yet, I’ll let you know” 

“When do you need this to start?”

“Now” he turns to face you expecting a protest 

“Okay is that it? 

“Yea” he responds with his stoic expression 

With that you spin around and walk away

By the time you make it out the door the bartender had both drinks in hand “Oh uhhhh” 

“It’s alright, comp it” 

“Yes sir” 

Sunday February 14, 2021

“Where’s Rio?” you ask holding onto the bag, he had told you he was going to manage the pick up today 

Your phone vibrates right on cue like he is listening 

The man in front of you scoffs as if it is the most ridiculous question “He got a date today lady, it is valentines duh!” 

“Right” you say looking down at your phone and reading the text 

Rio: Got tied up 

“And I gotta go slap some cheeks so let's get this out the way” he says reaching for the bag 

“Right! Right!” you say handing him the money 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ later that day ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And then he took me to this like pop up thing very romantic” Alicia babbles on the phone recounting her date with her boyfriend as you were all on 3 way between yourself,  Gia, and Alicia

“That's good!” Gia comments

“I’m sorry I’ve only talked about me. How was yours? Working?” she asks noticing you hadn’t added much to the conversation 

“Yeaaaa” 

She sighs “Sissy we really would like you to have someone up there” she comments

You sigh back “Sometimes things aren't in the books for all of us Ally” 

“That's not true! What about that guy? What's his name? Christian? No! Christopher! What about Christopher?”

You remain silent 

“Sissy?” 

“Yes”

“Christopher?” Gia asks

You blow out air “Well you know...”  

“Are you two back together?” 

“Ugh” you express in disgust  “no, we just aren’t a good fit for each other” 

“Why would you say that?” Alicia asked 

“It's a hunch but tell me what happened after the pop up”  you ask wanting her to get distracted again and it worked.

After you get off the phone with her not too long after there’s a knock at your front door. You look through your camera to see Rio standing on the opposite side. It was almost midnight. 

“Yes?” you say as you open the door 

He walks past you. “Hey mama” he greets you. You lock the door and follow suit to your usual meeting point in your home. The kitchen. 

“You asked about me” he comments 

You look at him confused, “I asked where you were because you said you would pick up today and I was told you had a date. I gave Antoine the money”

He nods taking a seat by the bar 

“What do you want?” still confused by why he even stopped by 

He dips his head down and laughs to himself 

“Still mad huh?” 

“Nope” emphasis on the p

He looks at you and squints biting back a smile but you could see the dimples 

“How’d your date go?” you ask with your back to him, you feel the urge to just slap him at any moment so you need to distract yourself  He chuckles, “Worried about my love life now?” He asks watching you walk past him to the living room to pause the movie, then back and stand across from him 

“Noooo” You shrug “Just curious” 

He hums “hmm” a pause “How was your date?” 

You scoff “You know damn well I was at the bar making many women happy for their mans last minute date” 

He laughs “Valentine with no date” 

“Yea, well welcome to my life, at least one of us had a good date” you beam at him “got that after glow and all” 

He frowns “What you talking about?” 

You reach and turn his head gently by the jaw “Your date made sure to leave a parting gift” You say as you point out the subtle imprinted pink lips on his neck

He goes to your bathroom to check and you hear the water running which makes you laugh “Aww don’t remove it, it was her gift to you” 

After he is done he leaves without say anything else to you. 

Tuesday March 16, 2021

“I was summoned” you comment as you slide into the bar

“Hello Y/N!”  Nick greets joyfully

“Nick” you greet

���Brother sin...” 

Rio interrupts “Cousin”

Nick playfully rolls his eyes “This guy with semantics”

You take a deep breath. There's silence at the table as you wait for them to tell you the reason for their visit.

“How was valentines last month?” Nick asks

You shrug “I worked, dropped the money, worked again, then I went home” 

He frowns “How sad no date”

“No but I'm sure you were aware of that, so what’s up? Why do we need to talk?” 

Nick holds a sly smirk on his face “a beautiful woman like yourself”

“Nick!”  Rio scolds

“What do you want?” you ask irritated 

Nick turns to face Rio “Well brother“ Rio sighs and looks away. Nick turns to face you “He's being shy”

“Nick” Rio warns

“What brother?” 

“Stop!” he orders 

Nick throws up his hands in surrender “Fine! Fine!” he turns to face you and looks at you for a brief moment before saying  “We want you to proceed with the second location” 

You shake your head “I can't. I can’t do that it's too soon” 

“Well seeing that all of this is your fault”

“Excuse me!?” “Nick!” both you and Rio say in unison 

He smiles “Yea you see, had you not betrayed my family we wouldn't be here in fact the second location would be open right now if it wasn't for you” 

“I was put in a tough position”  you argue 

He tilts his head from side to side “Yeaaaa buuuut” he looks at Rio “brother here told me he gave you an option out of this and you still chose wrong seems to me you are indeed responsible for everything cariño” he speaks adding salt into the wound 

“Nick stop” he shoots daggers with his eyes at him 

You put your hand up to stop Rio “No it's okay I accept” you swallow a lump growing in your throat, you feel your hands shaking in your lap.  You clear your throat before speaking. “It was my fault” you speak confidently “and I paid the ultimate price that I accept. But opening up the second  location right now will not be in the best interest for anyone. The community will not agree to this and feel like I used this as an opportunity and no one will think Cure is the best bar in town an....”

Nick cuts you off “Well that's your problem isn't it?” 

“It's not even a year since she...” 

“We know” he smiles  

You shake your head in disbelief “I won't do it, kill me but I’m not doing it!” you declare

He looks at Rio “you did tell me..” 

“I told you” he says cutting him off visibly irritated with Nick 

Nick turns to face you again “We have to wash more money” He looks between both of you “so one of you needs to come up with a solution for washing double the amount of money!” 

“Get someone else to do it, a different bar a different shop” you offer

He shakes his head “Uh Uh that won’t do cariño, everybody is sloppy you’re not” 

“I can’t wash double if there are no customers” 

He smiles at you “Again that’s a personal problem, it’s what comes with running a business Y/N” 

“No! That’s my final answer!” 

He turns to face Rio “Brother” “Nick” he calls his name jaws taught. You look between them was Nick who he answered to? 

“Yes brother you know she’s the only one” 

“Y/N” Rio calls your name

You gauff “I’m not doing it!  Fuck it I don't care” you pull out your phone “let me just tell my family I love them” 

Rio puts his hand on top of yours to stop you before he turns to look at Nick “We need to find someone else” 

He smiles at Rio “No I want her” 

“It's not gonna work cousin” 

Nick stands up “Brother. Then I suggest you two come up with a solution because whether you like it or not she will be running that second location” 

You watch him leave before you turn to face Rio, he doesn’t say anything, just hangs his head low before getting up to leave too. 

Wednesday April 21, 2021

You knock on the door and wait for him to open. You wave to greet him as he stands in the entry way

He smiles “Hey mama” stepping aside to let you in 

You step into his office at the warehouse “I got called to the office again. What did I do now? I have been giving Alejandro the money no questions asked” 

He chuckles. Spring was around the corner but not quite so you paired your wrap dress that had a slit in it with thigh high heel boots. 

“Got your money” you say placing it on the desk 

He snickers “Didn’t call you here for that” 

You sigh “Well I brought it anyway incase I was in trouble” you take a seat on the couch as he leans against his desk

You both say nothing as he stares at you taking in your outfit. It does make you blush a little. Maybe the slit was too high and you adjust slightly so that the extra fabric covers your exposed thigh. 

“So what's up?” the memories of what happened last time you visited him were rushing back and you wanted to be out of there as soon as possible 

He clears his throat “I wanted to talk to you”

“About?”

He takes in a deep breath “The second location” You roll your eyes “This again”

“I need your help darling, got people I answer to, and I need double the amount you giving me now”

You nod looking down at your nails “Odd how I’m always the one you run to for help. Don’t you have other people in this freaking “empire” of yours” 

“I do” he responds smiling “but you’re my girl”

You groan “I can’t open up the second location you know how people will react” 

“You don’t have to it will be under an LLC”

“LLC that people can find”

“No an LLC owned by another business, owned by another business and so forth”

“Great” you sigh “Black rock style” 

He smiles “You get it”

“But they’ll see me there”

He shrugs “You can be behind scenes all we need you to do is manage the money”

“Why can’t you find someone else?”

He smiles at you “I just told you, you’re my girl”

“I’ll have to be at there to do all that”

He shrugs “We’ll figure out a schedule, make up an excuse, say you’re just consulting. Helping them get on their feet”

You shake your head still not liking the idea itself.

He pauses before speaking knowing what the reaction would be “It's already been decided” You scoff “Figured from the last meeting. Your boss did sa....” 

“Y/N” he warns

“Why am I here? You could have texted this shit”

“Needed your buy in” he argues 

“Doesn’t matter if you get it or not does it? Since the decision was already made”

“Come on ma’ don’t be like that” You roll your eyes standing up “Need your expertise in design” 

“Where is it gonna be?” 

“Different location on the north side of town” 

“The rich area? You think they want a bar?”

He shrugs “they want something, that's why I need you”

You nod “Okay get a planner and designer then” 

“Nah can’t have too many people involved.” He pauses “you’re good at it ”

“You’re gonna pay me!” you demand 

He puts his right hand on his heart and smiles “Scouts honor” glad you didn’t put up much of a fight. 

You stand there for a second looking at him realizing that once again you went against your own better judgment. You agreed to do something for Rio. You were supposed to be firm and not budge! But somehow some way he forced your hand and you always conceded. It made you hate yourself. 

“You good?” he asks walking closer to you bringing you back to the present 

“I’m fine” you say before walking out of the office not waiting for him to respond. The disgust you felt for yourself was boiling over and you were not going to let him see you cry. 

Monday May 10, 2021

“What are you doing here? I’ve been doing as you requested your highness” 

He chuckles sitting next to you, it had been a while since you last saw each other. Probably for the best. You had been unpleasant to be around. You were short, sarcastic, and uncooperative to say the least. 

It was a slow night, tonight  and you could find a seat at the bar so you moved all your work to a corner by the bar instead of being cooped up in the office 

“Hey Mike” you call to your bartender 

“Yea boss?” “Get him a GodFather (scotch whisky and amaretto)”  you turn to face him “it’s his favorite drink” Just something you picked up on over the years. 

He smiles at you happily accepting the attitude from you 

You don’t say anything but return to the laptop you were ordering supply for the next month 

“I’m tired,” he declares while taking a sip of his drink. He didn’t want to continue being at odds with you let alone fighting with you. 

“Welcome to the club” you state, not looking up from the laptop you were in the zone and didn’t want to be distracted or the system would time out and you would find yourself restarting. He doesn’t say anything but sits there next to you waiting for you to finish. When you’re done you close your laptop and leave him. 

You return after 20 minutes with food in hand

“Oh I’m not” he goes to stop you 

“Please this is practically your second dinner and you don’t gain any weight you can eat, plus I need unbiased opinion on this” 

He bites back a chuckle and picks up the fork. You both sit in silence and eat your meals after you’re both done you ask 

“What do you think? Spiced Lamb Burger with Fennel Cucumber & Celery Slaw, for next month” You ask when he is finished eating

He nods “it's good, a little spicy” 

“You don’t like spice?” “Nah I don’t mind it, it was good” 

You nod your head “good” and take the plates from him. He doesn’t say anything to you and you both sit in silence drinking and looking straight ahead at the TV. 

You turn to face him and blurt out “What's on your mind?” you finally break the silence you hated when he lingered, it normally followed with him telling you bad news or asking for yet another favor 

He chuckles and turns to face you  “What makes you think I have something on my mind”

You shrug “Well you don’t linger unless you have something to say” 

He smiles and nods “think you know me now?”

You smirk “You have to know your enemies”

He laughs, throwing his head back “Now I'm your enemy?” 

“Mhm! Or how else would you describe this?” you gesture between both of you pointing back and forth 

He picks up his glass to toast “A partnership” 

You roll your eyes and turn to face the TV “Not this again,” Suspecting him to ask you for a favor  “somehow I’m the one that keeps getting fucked over, interesting partnership we got here” 

He sighs “cuz you don’t listen to me” 

You hum “mmm...... not true but whatever. Agree to disagree” 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute “maybe I just like being around you” 

You scrunch your face and turn to face him “Horse shit!” He smiles at you “I’m serious”

“You’re lying! You want something so out with it your highness!” 

His jaw flexes looks you in the eye “I’m telling you the truth Y/N”  

You roll your eyes “Flattery isn’t your thing, your highness” you go back to your phone to distract from whatever it was you were feeling

“You don’t believe me?” 

You shake your head “I have a better chance  believing in flying pigs.”

He chuckles “Why tho’?” You look at him and smile, in a sarcastic tone you say “For the same reasons you didn’t believe me when I told you I didn’t steal your money!” His smile drops immediately, he turns to face the bar taking in a deep breath “I guess that's just the reality of our partnership” you finish. This was the unpleasantness he was trying to figure out. It didn’t take this long for you two to be back to some kind of norm. But this time was different. He doesn’t say anything and like before you break the silence. “You’re back to lingering, great” you mumble 

He turns to face you “What did I do? I know you’re mad at me just tell me what I did” you were holding onto a grudge he couldn’t resolve.

“Look in the mirror” you say refusing to face him 

“I’m trying here Y/N” he argues 

You turn to face him “By fucking me over? Making me do the work of multiple people while you and your boss, your brother, your cousin, whatever the fuck he is to you can maximize profit.” You pause “You can get literally anyone else to do this shit for you”

He sighs “Doesn’t have to be this way” he counters “Well I’m not the limiting factor here, every chance you get you’ll throw your weight and guns into the mix” 

“It’s needed” he counters  

You beam and respond satirically  “You see it's not me! Good first step! Honesty is the best policy!”

“It is you sometimes tho’” You smile at him keeping the same tone “Well my apologies your highness” He sighs rolling his eyes “Stop calling me that, rather you call me a asshole” You laugh “I thought you wanted things to be better? It's a fitting name. It’s something you said, ‘to be the king you gotta kill the king?’ Did I get it right? Medieval yadda yadda yadda blah blah blah.” you pause to see his reaction, it got under his skin exactly what you were looking for “I don’t know maybe someone else said it” “Y/N” “Yes! Mr. Christopher Serraño! What can I do for you?” He looks at you with a blank face all though you could see the rage boiling from the glare his eyes were giving you “Too far?” He doesn’t say anything “Forgive me then I won’t say a thing, women are best seen and not heard right?” “Y/N” he warns 

You motion with your fingers zipping your mouth and turn to get back on the laptop. A few minutes later he gets up and walks out of the bar. 

(A/N: What yall think Y/N should have extended an olive branch or not? What would you do if this was you?) 

Authors Note: Please leave your feedback, again please don't steal. Only repost, like, or give credit.

XOXO Rose

Taglist:

@katymae12344, @yinmaggiorebass , @flirtyjen, @wnbweasley, @meadows5, @ffenthusiastt, @rio-reid-whoreee, @belezaya, @meera10, @aunicornmademedoit, @stilestotherescue, @thatoneasiagurl

[soren-apologist]

i feel like people who say ike is a mary sue/gary stu in radiant dawn don’t realize that fe10’s supposed to be the ending of his arc as a character, where he’s reaching the very last part of his development.

at its core, fe9 is a coming-of-age story; ike goes from being a hotheaded, impatient teenager to a much calmer, more mature version of himself after having the responsibilities of handling a mercenary company and later an entire army thrust on his shoulders at far too early of an age. as such, while fe9 on its own initially seems as if it’s an entire character arc, we actually get to see how ike further grows into himself after 2 years of peace and coping with the events of the mad king’s war, a privilege that remains extremely uncommon for most fire emblem protagonists.

the ending of part 2 introduces us to a 20-year-old ike, now having physically grown up to match his personal growth from the start of fe9. while a more mature version of himself, he never turns on the morals and ideals that make him who he is, having decided to leave the crimean court to return working as a simple mercenary because he knows it’s where he belongs. despite this, however, he still finds himself dragged into conflicts and subsequent positions of power he doesn’t want. even though all he wants is a simple life as a mercenary, he still willingly chooses to take on the role of a general of sanaki’s army because he’s just not the kind of person to turn away someone in need, especially when he’s quite literally the only person qualified to fit the role asked of him (commanding armies of both beorc and laguz).

to clarify, ike isn’t already over with his character growth by fe10– he’s just nearing the end of it. while it’s a lot more subdued, you can absolutely still see the stubbornness and sass that characterized him in fe9; he’s still backtalking the enemy commanders he fights and giving people in positions of power above him a hard time whenever they do or say something he doesn’t like.

on that point, even as the “mature” version of himself, he honestly still kind of puts his foot in his mouth a few times there. it obviously never reaches the extent of him snapping at the entire council of begnion because they were being rude to elincia, but instances like this, where ike could have literally gotten himself and his entire army killed if he had genuinely offended dheginsea, whether through death-by-black dragon king or getting thrown back into the kauku caves:

or this, by which point in the story he’s so tired of everything that when oliver decides to defect from his own forces to the greil army, ike’s just like “eugh” and says right to oliver’s face that he’d rather fight and kill him then have his support as an ally, something he probably shouldn’t be doing (and most likely wouldn’t if it wasn’t oliver asking) considering there’s a very finite number of people available to fight ashera:

(i can’t entirely blame him for this one though, because, again… oliver)

or, hell, even this, where ike is standing directly in front of ashera who is about to kill everyone in the tower and turn the entire world to stone, to which his response is to tell her to pick a god and pray:

…are all pretty good instances of ike not always managing to catch his tongue. i mean, if nothing else, you can’t deny the guy’s got balls of steel, but shit-talking pseudo-immortal beings entirely capable of killing him on the spot probably isn’t one of the wisest decisions out there. still, though, it actually matches his fe9 characterization pretty well; in both games, he tends to snap and say or do something ill-advised when he’s frustrated and believes someone else is in the wrong in some way. the main difference between the games is the extent to which ike reacts, though, as now he’s a little calmer even when angry, and no longer charges headlong into danger like when mist and rolf were kidnapped or when facing the black knight for the first time. he’s still making some questionable (bad) decisions here and there, it’s just now they’re a lot less severe than they used to be, and he’s grown up enough that he doesn’t need titania to lecture him whenever he does something dumb anymore.

besides this, the main thing ike is still dealing with in fe10 is his tendency towards self-effacing behavior— and yeah, on its own “too nice for his own good” does sound like the sort of flaw a gary stu would have, but in this case it genuinely does affect him. he’s constantly bending over backwards to help those in need, even when his own kindness is constantly shooting him in the foot and leaving him to deal with even more problems. it actually coincides with his tendency to speak before he thinks, because as a person he just can’t sit by and watch as someone or a group of people is treated unfairly, even if it means getting himself wrapped up in a mess he could have avoided by staying quiet.

on that whole “shooting himself in the foot” thing, it’s important to keep in mind that the “rewards” ike receives for his kindness are more often than not things he doesn’t actually want. as a smaller example, his good looks, bravery, and gentle heart are constantly getting him attention from women when he himself has no interest in their flirting, to the point it makes him uncomfortable. as a much larger example, ike doesn’t want to be a wealthy nobleman, but he still accepts the title of lord to help elincia, and chooses to hold it for a year and a half after the war for the sake of giving legitimacy to her newfound regency over crimea. after this, he finally manages to give up his title and return to running the greil mercenaries, only to be contacted by bastian after a few months and have to go into hiding for the sake of launching a surprise attack on ludveck’s rebel army. he’s then immediately drawn into the begnion-laguz alliance conflict, something he’s actually okay with because he’s being contracted as a mercenary commander and not a general, except that as soon as their army combines with crimea and sanaki’s forces he’s promptly guilt tripped into being a fucking general again. after, like, 2 weeks of commanding sanaki’s army, they accidentally set off the apocalypse, and now ike is the general of the army facing off against literal god. when all of this is said and done, he still doesn’t get what he wants— a simple life as a mercenary— because now he’s known across the entire continent as the radiant hero, the savior of tellius. after everything he’s gone through, he doesn’t even get to have the quiet life he wanted because he’s simply too impactful of a person to be forgotten by history. ike doesn’t want fame, riches, and women; he just wants some relative peace and tranquility, something he is continually denied while the former is frequently pushed upon him.

ike’s ending is where i personally believe it marks the true conclusion of his arc as a character. like a lot of other people, i wasn’t initially sold on the idea of him just up and running away from the continent forever, leaving behind loved ones like mist and titania. after thinking it over a lot, though, i eventually realized it’s actually a very fitting ending for someone like him. the unfortunate truth of the matter is that, no matter what, if ike had stayed in tellius he never would’ve gotten his true happy ending— his fame as a general would have followed him forever, and it’s almost guaranteed he would have found himself dragged into yet another conflict he didn’t want to be a part of, something he himself definitely seems to be aware of.

as such, ike packing up his belongings and taking off either alone or with someone dear to him was actually the best solution to this perpetual dilemma; after years of pain and struggle, finally finding a way to escape the world that had ripped away his childhood and demanded so much out of him must have been cathartic. no longer was he the radiant hero, savior of crimea and tellius— now he was just ike, a traveling mercenary, and that was all he wanted the entire time. it’s also part of why i like the idea of him going with soren so much, as anyone else, including ranulf, would still have ties back to tellius, and could potentially come to regret leaving permanently in the way ike wanted to (hence why someone like mist could never be an option). with soren, however, all he wants is to be at ike’s side, regardless of wherever it takes him. in fact, i’d even argue the two of them leaving together is the best-case scenario, where they both can get exactly what they’ve always desired. as ike and soren get to finally escape the world that had caused them so much grief together, they actually both attain their happily ever afters, living the lives they always wished they could have had.

at no point is ike ever a “perfect” character; at his very core, he’s a person who refuses to stray from his moral compass, something that causes him to make as many mistakes and brings as many issues as it does successes. in fact, it’s so prevalent of a trait it stands as one of the themes of fe9, where even as he grows from a stubborn child to a calm, mature adult, he never loses that earnest belief in doing what’s right. as such, while it can be easily mistaken as doing so, path of radiance was never meant to contain the entirety of ike’s development as a character— it was merely intended to portray his growing pains as he gradually develops into the person who would one day be hailed as the radiant hero. mirroring this, radiant dawn stands as the very ending to this story, in which his selflessness finally grants him a tellius at peace and the freedom to seek out his own happy ending. he was never meant to go through an entire, second arc in this game— he was simply finishing the one he started four years ago.

[its-time-to-write]

hi there! (ok FIRST AND FOREMOST i need to tell you that i am obsessed with your writing. you are by far my favorite jamie tartt writer, you characterize him perfectly and nail his speech mannerisms! not an easy feat! so thank u for writing what you do and for sharing it with us!!!! <333333 ok now that i've gotten that off my chest) if you're taking requests right now i'd love to see your take on a (slowburn?) enemies to lovers fic with jamie!!

I don’t know why I take simple little prompts and turn them into angsty monstrosities. This one makes up for the lack of plot in my other fics, and I’d like to apologize in advance😬

Oh also I am the queen of commas, in case you didn’t know 😇😇

flipped the script

It cannot be considered murder if you’re provoked. It would be considered doing the world a favor. 

And by god, you are going to fucking murder Jamie Tartt.

He does absolutely fucking nothing but make your life fucking miserable and you’re fucking losing it.

The only thing you’d agree on is when it started. It was 4am and he was yelling at someone called Roy and you had to be awake in two hours for a fucking conference, and you’d only just fallen asleep at 1am.

So you marched out of your house to the sidewalk where your prick neighbor was arguing with his prick coach and told him to shut the fuck up or I’m calling the police.

He opened his mouth to retort, changed his mind, then made a snide comment about your choice of outfit while you glared at him. His prick coach had the decency to apologize and smack Jamie on the head, so you said, “You’re fine, Roy, I’ll see you at work next week,” and Roy said, “Ah shit, you have that fucking conference, yeah?” and you said yeah then flipped off Jamie as you walked away.

You really hadn’t had many interactions with Jamie before, but you knew him before you started your job as an administrative assistant for AFC Richmond since you were, after all, living right next to each other.

Your last job had paid incredibly well; you were basically the go-to girl for your last company for two and half years. You compiled all relevant information from the day and presented to your boss so he would be caught up on the company’s inner workings. You were observant when it came to valuable (or toxic) employees, and had gained a reputation for being an invaluable asset.

But your old boss was retiring and you were ready for something new, so you began looking around. You found a job at AFC Richmond, assisting a Mr. Higgins and just generally making sure his job ran smoothly so the club could run smoothly. 

It was mostly paperwork, but you enjoyed it. You collected data from all different departments and then ran it by Higgins and Ms. Welton. You weren’t above coffee runs; it was nice to get out sometimes and Ms. Welton would put your coffee on her bill. You got to take your lunch breaks with them and talk and laugh, and be appreciated, which is something you didn’t often get.

The nature of your job demands a certain level of… professionalism, shall we say, which can be misconstrued as coldness. You’re not. You’re just young and trying to be taken seriously, which is why it’s nice to be known both in a personal and professional capacity by Higgins and Ms. Welton. Higgins has even invited you over for family dinner and you’d invited his family over to yours. His boys had absolutely lost their minds at the amount of nerf guns you had stashed in each room, courtesy of your brother who often liked to drop by unannounced when he knew you were home and get you in the back of the head. Sometimes you regretted giving him a key, but not enough to take it back.

All that to say, it was a relatively seamless transition to AFC Richmond. You and Jamie would exchange a neighborly nod if you saw each other, but that was absolutely it. 

—

The next incident is, uh, kind of your fault.

Remember the brother-and-nerf-guns thing?

Yeah.

Your brother had sneaked over on a Sunday (parked around the corner so his car wouldn’t be seen on your security cameras) and you were chasing each other around the house. Your sister-in-law had warned you he was coming over (he asked her to drive him), so you were prepared and hiding in the bushes. He was nonchalantly walking on the sidewalk, hands in his hoodie, when you popped out and got him right in the chest then booked it into your house, which led to a solid fifteen minutes of running and yelling, with the occasional, “Ow, you jerk!” that siblings are always saying but never really mean.

The incident occurs when you’re once again in your front yard running from your brother. You look back to assess how far away he is when smack, you run into someone and feel their beverage go flying.

It’s Jamie, and his bright pink drink is now all over his clean white hoodie.

You both stop and glare at each other. 

You had stopped feigning civility after the 4am thing, so the glare is standard procedure.

Jamie says, “What the fuck?” as your brother comes careening to an abrupt halt.

You’re still glaring. “Why are asking me ‘what the fuck?’ You’re the one walking around here with that fucking awful drink that’s probably going to kill your internal organs. I mean seriously, it cannot be safe to consume something that bright.”

“Says the girl who’s addicted to diet soda.”

“Says the girl who’s fucking pissed that her sidewalk is stained fucking bright pink. How the fuck am I supposed to clean this?”

Jamie’s face is red now, and yours is too.

“A), it’s a fucking public sidewalk and b), what about my fucking sweatshirt? This cost more than your shitty car!” he shoots back, and that’s the moment a line is crossed.

“We live in the same goddamn neighborhood,” you hiss, “so shut the fuck up with your stupid elitist footballer bullshit.”

“Oi, at least I’m not a fucking stuck-up, self-righteous big-shot with no friends!”

You’re not sure what would have happened next because your brother grabs you by the arm and hauls you back inside, waving apologetically to Jamie. All the fight goes out of you as soon as the door shuts.

“What the ever-loving hell was that?” he asks. He never did like using the word “fuck.”

—

What the ever-loving hell was that? Well, it’s actually quite simple. In the seven months you’ve been at Richmond, you haven’t really made any friends.

Yes, you have Ms. Welton and Higgins, but that’s not the same as having people the same age as you to go out with and watch movies and drink and dance and just be stupid and unwind with. 

You’re not even necessarily looking for friends at Nelson Road, just friends somewhere. The problem is, you’re not even sure how to go about it. You’ve spent the last decade of your life (yes, decade) working your ass off to get where you are now. Fourteen year-old knew what she wanted and was determined to get it. You had hustled through school, made connections, grew your resume, and saved every fucking penny until you landed a job that you were definitely under qualified for, but you had nailed the interview. You weren’t sure why your boss decided to take a chance on you, until he told you later he saw the same spark his daughter had in your eyes.

His daughter, who had become a multi-millionaire on her own by the time she was twenty-seven.

So, because someone saw the grit in your eyes of all places, you had a chance to make a fuck ton of money and have a fuck ton of benefits.

You made more connections, including a realtor who set you up with your current home at a price that was insane to normal people, but a steal to the rich. You were signing papers before it was even officially on the market.

It had been labelled as a “fixer-upper,” but that meant a little bit of scuffed paint and slightly outdated utilities. 

And it was yours.

It all came at a price though, didn’t it?

That price was not seeing your family often, sleeping poorly, and no real friends.

That’s why your brother makes it a point to come around. He knows that your lack of contact does not equate a lack of love.

Not everyone saw it that way. You’d lost all your friends at this point, labeled a bitch and a workaholic. So, you though, why the hell not just lean into it. You could be a bitch and a workaholic if it got things done. It was easier to harden the shell around your heart than let people in again.

—

Ok, maybe taking out all that anger on Jamie isn’t healthy, but hey, he’s the one fighting back so hard. 

Things keep happening. His foot is stuck out just enough to make you stumble as you pass each other in the hallway, your car is parked on the street just enough so he can’t get into his garage, ferocious glares are exchanged. Any conversation you are forced to have is laced with sarcastic, biting remarks that only serve make you close off even more. 

The worst part? You’re both fucking brilliant at hiding it. 

You’d have to be, especially at AFC Richmond under Ted Lasso’s command. If he got wind of this, he’d be all over it trying to fix it and neither of you want that. 

You see, Jamie’s a little bit fucked up too.

—

You’ve been at AFC Richmond for a year, and you’ve hated Jamie Tartt for eleven months.

Yet somehow, you’re in fucking Paris. 

Not with just Jamie, of course, but the whole team.

Rebecca’s basically given you a paid vacation because there isn’t much for you to do here. It’s great, the city of lights or something, but you can’t enjoy it. 

You’re in your room on the floor, becoming slowly dehydrated from crying.

Everything is all fuzzy and you’re incredibly disoriented, so you think you might be hallucinating when you hear a knock on the door.

It happens again, more insistently, and you think it’s probably Rebecca so you drag yourself up off the floor, wipe your eyes, and open it to find Jamie Tartt standing in front of you, clearly wishing to be anywhere else.

He’s staring at the top of the doorframe as he says, “Coach sent me to see if you want to go out with the lads tonight,” looking down only when you’ve left his statement unanswered for far too long.

His look of annoyance changes as he clocks your puffy eyes and red nose. 

“You alright?” he asks and you don’t even have the heart to say, obviously, don’t I look it? so you just nod and move to shut the door. 

Jamie blocks it with his hand and pushes it back open, then past you into the room.

It’s pristine, all marble and gold; and far too big for you. You would have preferred something smaller, something less empty. Something less cold. 

All you can do is stand there mutely in your t-shirt and sweatpants, watching your worst enemy clatter around in the room’s fridge looking for a water bottle.

He retrieves one and hands it to you, cap unscrewed.

You don’t ask if he’s spit in it, just take a sip and look at him with dead eyes.

“You look like shit,” he observes, breaking the silence. 

It’s not a dig. You’ve heard enough condescension from his lips to know when he’s fighting.

You shrug.

“You gonna say something?” Jamie asks, and that’s enough to get you going.

“You’re the one who’s in my room,” you say and instead of firing back, Jamie grins. 

“We can go to mine if you want, love,” he winks and in a terrible, awful, panic-inducing moment, you are thrown completely off your guard.

How the fuck are you supposed to reconcile this Jamie Tartt with the awful neighbor you hate? And is he- flirting? Surely not.

He registers your face going through a million expressions in an instant and sobers.

“Go sit,” he says, and you comply without thinking. You’re cross-legged on the couch and he thumps down next to you. He’s not close enough that you’re touching, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body. It’s funny, because you feel so cold. You wonder for a moment if your heart has actually turned to stone and that’s why you’re shivering.

You hear someone say, “My ex is here,” and are horrified to realize that you’re the one talking, and not only that, but you’re continuing. 

“He fucking… knew I’d be here. I saw him in the lobby. He acted like it was some great coincidence, but he was never a great liar. And… he’s here with his girlfriend. Fiancée, I guess. Because he’s proposing to her tonight. They’ve known each other less than a year, and he’s proposing to her. I saw him in the lobby looking like this while he’s in a fucking suit and all I can think about is the fact that he broke up with me because I wouldn’t put out because I wasn’t ready. And how he said he wasn’t the marrying type.” You pause.

“I broke my back making time for him. Everyone thinks I’m a workaholic and maybe I am, but I make time for the people I love. I made time for him. It sounds funny to say, especially how I am now, but he’s why I don’t anymore. Make time, I mean. Nobody notices I’m gone anyway. Or when I’m around. Or anything I do unless I’m doing something for them.”

You risk a look at Jamie. He’s studying your face with an intensity you’ve never seen and you look down to find his hand in yours, and you wonder how that happened. Your knuckles are white from gripping it but he’s holding it back and it gives you just enough of a boost to keep going.

“I don’t even want the money for myself. Like, I’m able to buy expensive shit and that’s cool, but the only reason I have a house that big is because my brother and his wife have a shit-ton of kids, and sometimes they need a break. So they can come over to mine and run around and have space and be wild for a week and I don’t care. They won’t let me give them money, so I have to think of creative ways to help them out. I only have nephews- they each have their own trust fund. It’s not that big right now, but it’s growing. It’ll be a lot by the time they’re each eighteen. And my parents… They died when I was fourteen. It was a stupid car accident, this freak thing with the brakes even though they’d just had the car serviced a week before. My brother was twenty one and newly married because he’s an idiot and he was in love. He and his wife let me live with them.”

You shake your head. “No, that’s not right, they didn’t just let me live with them, they took care of me. Bought me clothes and fed me and let me have my own room even though I said I could sleep on the couch. They could barely afford things for themselves, but they made sure I had what I needed. That’s why I threw myself into work and pushed people away. It’s for them, because I know I can never repay them. But I want to, even if they won’t let me.”

You’re done speaking, finally, and your face is bright red. It normally is when speaking to Jamie, but that’s from the sheer anger you usually feel from having to deal with him. This time it’s different. It’s from the embarrassment of being vulnerable in front of someone.

Jamie hasn’t said anything the whole time, just let you hold his hand. Your knees are touching now, and you realize that one of you must have shifted to make that happen.

You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly. “Why are you here, Jamie?” you ask softly. “You hate me. I don’t even know why I told you all that.”

He looks straight into your eyes. “I don’t hate you,” he says simply.

That’s enough to fully shatter the shell around your heart, and you’re shaking with silent sobs again as Jamie pulls you closer, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you.

—

You fall asleep like that, and you’re not sure at which point Jamie left. But when you wake up, you’re in your bed under a blanket. You think maybe you dreamed the whole thing until you see the note on your nightstand in messy handwriting.

I meant what I said.

—

Neither you nor Jamie comment on it, but something has changed. You don’t hate him anymore. He sits next to you on the plane back and cracks jokes, and you have a weird opportunity to apologize. He tells you he’s sorry too, explains about his dad, and you form a strange bond of repressed anger as a way to deal with hurt. 

Ted is right, forgiveness is the way to go.

—

Jamie Tartt makes it a point to ask you to go out with the lads every time they do group activities. You meet Rebecca’s friend Keeley, basically the only other girl, and pretty soon she’s invited herself over for girl’s nights. Jamie recognizes Keeley’s car the second time it happens and walks over to say hey. She invites him in, and suddenly he’s a fixture at girl’s night. His movie recommendations are shit, but his skincare products are not.

Since things at AFC Richmond aren’t as hectic as you’re used to, you start to pick up some of your old hobbies. Cooking, for example. You get your hands on a copy of Jamie’s diet plan and start experimenting with ways to make it more interesting. So now he’s at yours for dinner more often than not. 

He pops his head over the fence one Saturday afternoon, hearing young voices all morning. Your nephews are over and playing football in the backyard while your brother and sister-in-law deep clean their house. You’re sitting under an umbrella with the baby in your arms and a pitcher of water, when you hear Isaiah, the oldest, say, “Whoa! Is that Jamie Tartt?” 

You look up from Daniel’s tiny giggly face to see Jamie hanging over your fence and waving. You roll your eyes and grin back.

“Wanna come over?” you call, and the words are barely our of your mouth before he’s hopped over and starting to steal the ball from your four walking nephews.

They’re at it for a good thirty minutes before he calls time-out and is jogging over to you, all sweaty and grinning. 

“Didn’t know you were good with kids,” he says.

“Could say the same thing about you,” you shoot back.

He grabs water then makes a silly face at Daniel, who giggles and waves his arms. You laugh and kiss the baby on the top of his head, which makes him gurgle. You look up to see Jamie watching you strangely, so you wrinkle your nose at him. “What?” you say, but before he can open his mouth to respond, Jesse is pulling on Jamie’s hand, telling him the time-out is over.

—

Your next interaction of note happens after your third consecutive Richmond match. You don’t usually go to them, as it’s not required and you didn’t really care. But since you’ve been hanging out with the team, you find yourself taking Rebecca up on her offer to sit in the owner’s box. It’s three days until the next match and you’re looking for Jamie so you can eat lunch together. You find him in the locker room of all places and hand him his bag of food, yet another one of your experiments.

You’re starting to get really good revitalizing Jamie’s meal plan.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and you both miss the looks exchanged between Ted and Beard in their office.

Jamie puts down the lunch and says, “Oi, I got you something.” He reaches into his locker and pulls out a Richmond jersey.

“It’s new, it ain’t one of mine, but now you can wear it to matches.”

You shake it open to see it’s a Jamie Tartt jersey, and this makes you unreasonably happy.

Jamie’s grinning too, and it’s the rare kind of grin where his teeth look sharper and his eyes flash.

You hug it to your chest and say, “I’ll be sure to wear it Saturday,” before you and Jamie head to the café to eat.

— 

Keeley, of course, has comments about the jersey. You pretend not to understand what she’s saying.

—

It’s girls night again, and you and Jamie are pulling snacks out of his cabinets when your phones ding at the same time. It’s Keeley on your groupchat.

Can’t make it babes, something’s come up.

You make a comment involving the words “Roy Kent,” and riffing on her excuse, which makes Jamie laugh.

“I guess I’ll head back to mine,” you say, but Jamie tilts his head and says, “Or you could just… stay,” so you do.

You’re on his couch again, like the night you stopped hating him: your back agains his chest as you rub your thumb absentmindedly on his tattooed forearm.

You’re midway through the movie and explaining to Jamie the limited plausibility of it happening in real life, when he says a soft, oh shit as you pause to take a breath.

“What?” you say, sitting up. “Is everything alright?”

Jamie rubs a hand across his face. “You’re gonna fucking hate me again.”

You squint. “Not sure that’s possible. You’ve got too much dirt on me.”

Jamie just groans. “Nah, you’ll hate me. But I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

He grabs your hand and looks you straight in your eyes, giving you goosebumps.

“I’m fucking in love with you,” he says, and your brain still functions just enough to crash your lips into his.

You’re on top of him and his fingers are tangled in your hair, but as your fingers ghost his waistband, he stills and grabs your hand.

You freeze too, afraid you’ve crossed a line, but Jamie says, “I’m not fucking you for the first time on my couch. We’re going to do this proper,” and then he’s whisking you off your feet and up the stairs.

—

You know that fucking someone you work with is a line you said you’d never cross. But he was your neighbor first, and you’re in love, so it doesn’t count. You’re lying on Jamie’s bed gasping for air after god knows how long and all you can say is, “fuck me.”

Jamie smirks. “Thought I just did, babe, but I’ll go again,” and you’re seeing stars for the third time that night.

He’s sucking a line across your collarbone when you say, “Wait!”

Jamie is off of you in a moment, and you feel strangely empty.

“You alright?” he asks, all concern.

“I never said it back,” you explain. Jamie’s still confused.

“I love you too. You said you’re fucking in love with me. I’m in love with you too. Just thought I should make it clear.” 

Jamie’s looking at you all strange again, eyes dark, so you roll him back on top and let him devour you.

[kurishiri]

epilogue . . . happy birthday, darius! ˗ˏˋ🪽´ˎ˗

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— please note this entire story is told from darius’ point of view!

— cw: invasion of personal space.

I had taken her to be far too honest, and a bit of a fool too.

Someone who Crown seemed charmed by——just another human.

And also how she had by chance happened upon a place where they had passed judgment.

That was all there was to it, and yet Crown seemed quite attached to her.

She was important to them, and they held her dear in their hearts.

And seeing her surrounded by them like that, it very much resembled a ‘robin’ within a birdcage.

Lightning didn’t strike thereafter.

It was as though the raging weather up until now had all been a lie as I turned to the stars that showed themselves in the sky.

(You lucky girl, you.)

Having come to her senses, she looked as though she had barely escaped from death,

and yet, she also somewhat seemed as though she was unsatisfied by something.

Darius: Now that’s quite unfortunate, seeing the sky ended up clearing.

Just like that, I let go of her, and she went for the door in a haste to make more distance, but——

Kate: U-umm...

For some reason, she turned around and raised her voice, her trembling hands gripping her skirt.

Kate: Happy birthday!

Darius: ......... [surprised]

Kate: And good night.

I could only stare at her retreating figure from the open door for a while, dazed.

But then, I started to feel things have really started to get interesting, and laughter escaped me thereafter.

Darius: That’s the first time I’ve seen a human like her.

There wasn’t any human like her in Germany.

(But even in this country, it seems that fairytale keeper is one of a kind too.)

(That just goes to show how there are some odd humans, I suppose.)

I took out the handkerchief from my pocket, pinching it between my fingers, so the moonlight illuminated its embroidery.

Darius: Well, I already could see what she was going to choose.

I saw how she had been setting her sights at what she was going to choose from outside the shop.

And also how she had taken that handkerchief first, before all else.

Darius: It’s the first I’ve heard handkerchiefs being used as a charm, though... is it like wishing upon something, maybe?

Such as wishing not to get hurt, or to come back safe and sound.

For a long time now, humanity has entrusted their wishes on objects.

Darius: If that’s the case, though, I think this would find much more use in your hands than mine.

If someone who held no power whatsoever, such as herself, accompanied Crown on missions as fairytale keeper...

(The least you could do is make a wish on this that you can come back without getting hurt, no?)

But——

Darius: It is pretty interesting seeing a human like her worry over us Cursed ones.

In the beginning, I was wondering what type of human this fairytale keeper was, seeing Crown all around her...

(But I sure didn’t expect her to be the one to approach me first, so I didn’t even need to probe any further to know.)

She did seem perplexed, to be sure, but in the end she said that she had fun,

and while my words clearly scared her, it wasn’t as though she had run away either.

Darius: All that talk about celebrating with me forever was meant to be a joke, but now I’m starting to think a bit otherwise.

Realizing that my reflection in the window was smiling, I placed my hand on the corner of my mouth.

Darius: Which means it’s about time I start thinking about turning Crown’s little robin into Vogel’s.

D: If I do that, then I really can have her celebrate my birthday.

Holding the handkerchief, I turned on my heel.

Strangely, I didn’t feel any disgust.

Darius: Always and forever, until I draw my very last breath.

A few days after my birthday——

Suddenly, I heard reserved knocks from the door, and I raised my head, turning my attention to the one at the other side of the door.

Darius: Come in, miss fairytale keeper.

When she opened the door, surprise was on her face.

Kate: How did you know it was me?

Darius: I just took a shot in the dark.

D: But it looks like I hit the mark.

(Well, actually, I knew because you’re the only one who knocks the door the way you do.)

I had ended up remembering how she knocked, seeing as the servants and maids knocked in a completely different way.

Kate: Are those... milk puzzles?

She looked down at the milk white pieces scattered about the desk.

Darius: We chatted about doing these together sometime, didn’t we?

Paying no mind, I continued putting the pieces together.

Darius: So would you like to do it? They’re a bit harder than normal puzzles though.

D: It’s more fun to put together a pure white piece rather than some plain old scenery.

Picking up pieces that had fallen to the floor, she handed them to me.

Kate: Of course, beautiful sceneries are good, but I also think having no picture at all like a milk puzzle is a wonderful thing too.

K: There isn’t a single stain to be seen on the single colored scene, so if you put it up somewhere, it’ll catch the eye, I would think.

(There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that she’d say she preferred puzzles with a painting on them, but...)

My hands stopped where they were when I heard her response differ from what I had thought it would be.

Kate: But, it seems like it’d be harder than I imagine to actually do.

K: So, I wonder if I’ll be able to do these?

Her eyes seemed to sparkle at the half-done puzzle,

and so I handed her a smaller puzzle that I was going to do next.

Darius: This one has fewer pieces, so I imagine even you’d be able to do it, no?

Kate: Huh...? Is it alright?

Darius: Think of it as a thank you for celebrating my birthday.

Kate: T-thank you then.

Hugging the milk puzzle in her arms, she seemed quite happy, and I tilted my head at that.

(Is it really something to be that happy about?)

Kate: Uhm, actually, there’s something I’d like to give you today...

She set the box she had been hiding behind her back down on the desk, and when she opened it——

Darius: A berry tart?

In the box was a tart with an assortment of colorful berries on top.

Kate: We didn’t have a birthday cake, so I was thinking of celebrating once again, with this...

K: See, I gathered a lot of different types of berries, and prepared something elaborate!

Seeing her holding out candles, I couldn’t help but laugh.

(As I thought, she really is earnest, honest, and a tad bit foolish.)

It was as though she had forgotten all of what happened yesterday as she looked straight this way——

Darius: Is it okay to eat it now?

Kate: Of course! And since I brought these over, too, let’s put the candles in too.

From beyond the flickering flame of the candles, I could see a full smile play on her lips as she softly sang the birthday song.

(I’ve had my birthday celebrated a great many times up until now, but strangely...)

This time seemed infinitely more pleasant than any of those birthdays.

I heard her blow out the candles and clap her hands...

Kate: Happy birthday, Darius.

(...Just what is this feeling, I wonder?)

It was the first time I ever felt this way, so unable to put a name on it, I tilted my head.

Kate: Let’s eat it together.

She held out a fork to me, causing me to come back to my senses. I reached my hands for the tart——

And taking it as I pleased, I brought it to my mouth.

Kate: Ah...

The part of the tart that didn’t reach my mouth fell on top of the milk puzzle,

staining the pure white pieces a purplish red.

I tried to wipe the fruit juice that dripped from my mouth with the back of my hand, but…

Kate: You’ll get dirty...

In a panic, she reached out to do the same, and so I brought out the handkerchief from my pocket.

Then, I placed it in her hands...

Darius: Wipe it with this.

And gripping the handkerchief, she came in closer with a deliberate movement, her hand reaching out toward me.

(See, she’s approaching me without even a moment’s hesitation.)

Seeing her without an ounce of caution, I grabbed her wrist.

Kate: Wh...

Just like that, I pulled her toward me, and her body tumbled down in response. I then grabbed a berry in my other hand, and...

Kate: mngh——

I pressed it against those small lips.

The berry now crushed, those pink lips were stained a purple-red color, and a drop of its juice traced down to her chin.

(It looks like blood.)

My eyes felt awfully drawn to that, and using my fingers, I went on to stain her cheeks with the berry juice.

Darius: Indeed, ‘dirty’ sounds right.

(The milk puzzle, me, and you...)

Darius: You’ll wipe it all, won’t you.

The color called Kate, who had fell upon the pure white that was myself, was more lovely than I had ever thought it to be,

and, even still, I wanted to keep my eyes on that very scene.

← main story fin. letter →

full masterlist 🪽🍰 ╱ ko-fi

END NOTES: i feel like there’s just a lot to unpack with the tart scene. or just through this story in general, i’m really starting to understand what his voice actor, shigematsu chiharu, meant when he said when he mentioned how he found it charming that how he is very human-like himself despite sort of resenting humanity. i feel that tart scene really shed light on his own ‘humanity.’ or how he is clearly capable of feeling the same way other humans can feel, but is unable to put a label on it because with her, it’s the first time he’s felt the way he did… or even just the way he was confused or taken aback by this and that because of kate, you know.

overall there’s just a lot of this sort of dissonance to be had with his character, and i’m definitely curious about him and am excited to sort of get to the root of all this, like sort of finding out why he is the way he is and all that.

anyway, yeah, i’m thinking a lot about his character, but it’s a bit hard to form it into words maybe, haha. i hope you enjoyed the story!

[zombieclown16]

Going back to an ask I had gotten about my ancestor designs, I’ve decided to do a deep dive into my process for making them and just my thoughts/inferences on their themes. I plan on doing more designs, so I may add more to this thread later!

Mosura Briati (The SuperNova)

Mosura is definitely my most straight forward design. With the little amount of info we have on her, I mostly dedicated my time to making her look like her namesake, Mothra. Her coat is meant to mimic moth wings and her pant design is supposed to be reminiscent of not just moth legs, but specifically moth Jentha’s appearance in WDYDTT.

Her radiation coloring is more saturated and intense than Jentha’s pastel pinks and blues, more close to the warm colors you’d find on a Geiger counter (I did want to keep that neon blue though!) Originally, I wanted to give Mosura more techy apparatus’, something like what Jentha had when she was younger that could potentially reign in her powers, and I still just might in an alt outfit! But for the natural approach, this is what she looks like when she’s able to chill out and not worry about exploding everything around her. Mosura is a treat to me, because even though she is surely the most powerful being the planet had to offer, her biology is what makes her so strong. Not magic or tech or anything, but just her body as it was made. I feel like that is an important factor to how the VE ancestors function, within an unnatural or a natural. Mosura especially was an attempt to bring back order to a terrible place, like when a volcano erupts and the land around it starts anew. Love her for that.

Fortmistress Deadlock

For the Fortmistress, my most controversial designs, I wanted her to be dramatic as hell with a sharp silhouette and a spiky appearance. Deadlock has her own semi canon design lost to the sands of VE time, so her leotard and face paint is a call back to those parts of her old look (I don’t want to post it if VE isn’t comfortable with that, so if you find it you’ll see what I mean!) However, my main inspiration for her was punk fashion mixed with the clowny wrestler appearance that would be inherit to her design. I find that the Fortmistress gets a strange rep within VE, as canonically during her time her caste and specifically purple bloods with psyops (including her) were fighting against the Fuchsia Bureaucracy who were attempting to use them as militia assets. The Mirths were confirmed as a cultural religion formed during a time of oppression, to gain community and commonality between people who had gone through the same as them while also standing up to a suffocating governmental system. That’s punk as fuck!!!!! To include this, I made her jacket a repurposed violet military vest, decorated and all, with the system she was fighting against! She’s big and intimidating and her psyops are a main focus of this piece because they really influenced her path in life and how she was likely treated by others. Cultural religions like this are not bad and Vilcus had very lovingly described a time period in which the Fortmistress would’ve been present where the Mirths were normal trolls finding community. (If you come in here with “the Fortmistress made them suck! She’s crazy!” I’m gunna do something drastic CHARACTERIZING AN OPPRESSED INDIVIDUAL AS WRONG FOR FIGHTING BACK AGAINST A BAD SYSTEM ISN’T VERY COOL there is no perfect minority and I’m not gunna pretend Deadlock was some amazing figure wronged by time, but someone who we don’t know all of the facts on)

I’m not going to dig too hard into my thoughts about Fortmistress Deadlock, (nor am I saying VE is intentionally doing her wrong because a very big theme for the ancestors is that they are mischaracterized by modern day Reptions cause it’s a huge game of historical telephone) so all I ask is for us to think very critically about her and the placement of making her a blood purist when it seems like she was fighting for people who didn’t have a voice at the time. Like why would I believe that fucking loser Pozzol Boyer has the best takes on her? Come on guys.

outside of that, that funny little key choker is canon and passed on to Taz, I wonder what it could be for?

Acerigger Switchem

So I was like “what if a casino hall was a person?” And that’s how I made Aceriggers design. If a building could manipulate someone it would be a Casino in Vegas so obviously the guy named ACE takes a lot of that in. Seriously though, this guy is chalk-full of card suits, casino motifs and GOLD. Gold is a Turkin ore just as much as it is for a Kerian(I mean Murrit’s weapon is literally gold too) because of how it acts with TIME. Gold never ages or erodes, it is permanently shiny and beautiful, always captivating to the eye. Acerigger is chronically vain, he’s hot, he’s young, and he likes it that way. Gold would be his forte, as it is everlasting beauty that persuades you to think it’s actually worth something. His design is supposed to exhibit these traits!

I want to talk about his big bright coat specifically, as it is directly inspired by an article I saw titled “Ugly Vegas Carpets Want You to Keep Playing”saying that Casinos make their carpets so ugly cause they want you to focus more on playing games and not hesitate to see them by looking around at all the gaudy patterns. For Ace, it’s meant to mimic those ugly Vegas carpets that want you to focus on his pretty face telling you everything you want to hear instead of letting you look at all of the blaring red flags. The neon vomit pattern is like the classic animal kingdom warning sign screaming TOXIC STAY AWAY! (Murrits outfit is just as important to his bit characterization so Ace is the same. It’s all for the act, babes) Alongside all of that is the color red, associated with promiscuity and passion. The promiscuity is obvious, but Aces use of red is also a time player callback just as much as it represents a passionate display. He’s less so wearing red for himself as he is wearing it for others, displaying himself “bare” in way of a color associated with heavy emotions (specifically love) on his chest. This is also why I deigned to not give him shades, playing the opposite to Murrits party shade appearance. Aces act wants to coax people into him, make them feel comfortable and secure with an open face smile while Murrit means to create distance and close himself off, hiding away behind a face of disconnection.

Tbh also Murrits Twelfth Night design was a big inspiration. She’s like really gay and slutty for some reason there, so I made Ace gayer and sluttier to counterbalance.

Anyways, my personal characterization(made over several years of hyper fixation on the ancestors. Like I’m sorry I’ve been here a while, the lore is deep) for Ace is a pretty big influence into why I designed him the way I did, so I’ll include some analysis to explain myself in a really round about way. A lot of what Ace does is meant to draw people to him, to captivate an audience of individuals with smoke and mirrors. We know he is the opposite to Murrit, a character who cares greatly about others but hides it under a facade of combative and annoying traits to stave off the scent of her having genuine feelings(therefore the chance to be vulnerable with those feelings). The opposite to that is a person who is outwardly kind and compassionate, so wonderful in fact it’s hard to not be captivated(and even fall in love) with him. Ace is the antithesis of true love and genuine feelings while that’s exactly what Murrit needs to accept about herself, that she isn’t all of her facades and can form real relationships. Ace doesn’t do that, Ace is fake love and fake relationships and there is nothing under his lies, though he doesn’t act with the petty insecurities that Murrit harbors, he is all around heartless. It’s interesting because it is a contrast between two connected characters who though are oppositional, compliment each other nonetheless. All of the ancestors are like that with their descendants! It just sucks for Murrit that he got such a bad card draw. Oops this became a Murrit analysis I FUCKING LOVE FISH

That’s all I got, remember all of what I’ve said is subject to change because the ancestors probably have a page of accurate info on them BARELY. These interpretations I’ve made are based on what we’ve been provided already, which is not a lot! So if you have any questions I’d love to dive even more into my thoughts.