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yandere-sins · 28 days ago

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Charming the Tyrant Emperor

A new isekai story from me? I know, bonkers! Actually inspired by the blurb I read on an actual isekai manga/manhwa/etc. BUT I liked the idea enough that I didn't read the story so I could write my own yandere version of it, hope you guys enjoy it ♥

Characters: Yandere!Emperor x Isekai!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Yandere, Forced Marriage Trope, Isekai Trope, Depiction of War, Violence, Attempted Murder (not from or on the reader)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Sighing, you put down the packaging of the game you just loaded up, having hoped it would give you any clue about what it was all about.

A dark, black box with only the game's title imprinted on it—Fated Encounters—was as helpful as a blindfold in the streets. Thus, you threw it over your shoulder, hearing it plop onto your bed as you stared back at the character creation screen you had worked on for a while.

You had to admit, your character was really damn cute, from the pretty eyes to the custom outfit you put together. But at the same time, not knowing what the game was all about, it was hard to decide what was needed now: stats.

"Weird game," you mumbled, feeling slightly irritated at the lack of direction you had received. The friend who told you about it had simply called it "the best game I have ever played" before leaving you behind at the game store after having pushed the box into your hand. They felt very off lately, but you didn't know why. So you thought maybe if you played their favorite game, you could get them out of their shell and to spend time with you again.

Naturally, you could play it safe and just put an equal amount of points in all the stats, but where was the fun in that? You didn't know what occupation your main character had and had no idea what alignment you wanted them to have throughout the run, so you were like a stranded whale when choosing the right stats—utterly helpless.

And out of frustration about it, you decided to say fuck it.

Pressing the button of your controller, you held it until all of the points you were given went into charisma. Who needed strength, magic, defense, and health when you could simply talk your way out of every dangerous situation? Make everyone believe you were innocent and sweet while dodging the possible bullets. With your lack of knowledge about the game, it was the best choice, and if you liked the game, you could still revisit it with better stats next time!

Clicking 'start' almost excited you as you waited for the screen to change from black to an intro cutscene, but instead, another confirmation popped up, asking you, "Are you sure you want to proceed with these choices? Note: All choices have consequences."

"Ominous," you chuckled before hitting the confirmation again. The game made a small sound of acceptance before it finally turned black and stayed this way. Seconds passed, and you started to press all buttons, up, down, left, and right, until finally, you gave up, accepting that all your hard work creating this character had just been in vain, as your system must have frozen.

Frustrated, you forced a manual shut-down of your game system, discarding the controller somewhere on the table before getting up and letting yourself fall head-first into the mattress. What a stupid idea this was, you thought to yourself as you felt the hard box of the game poke your stomach. Anger unleashed upon the poor box as you yanked it out and discarded it on the floor, instant regret overcoming you as you hoped it wasn't broken so you could return the game.

You would definitely not go through all this work again to play it.

No way!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

You awoke to the sounds of screaming.

Bellowing voices were all around you, yelling at one another, grunting, despairing. The ground beneath you shook with ferocity as the bangs of explosions hit you from both sides, barely shielded by the ringing in your ears. Alerted, you pushed your hands into the surface beneath you and felt your fingers dig into what felt like loose earth or sand while you tried to focus. What had happened? You only just fell asleep after being so frustrated with the game you couldn't play. Why had the atmosphere changed so drastically?

Gripping your head, a surge of pain went through you, a nasty gash on your forehead wetting your palm. The red was striking even through your blurred vision as you gazed at your hand, and reality was still hard to grasp as your senses suddenly cleared, letting in the unmistakable sounds of war all around you.

Hastily, you looked around, trying to focus on one thing and all at the same time. This place didn't look like your home at all! There was neither a bed nor your gaming setup around that clearly marked it as your room. Instead, you saw dirt everywhere, flames rising from bushes and trees, and the worst part—bodies.

Countless humanoid bodies lay in the dirt, the ground stained with what could only be blood. Most were face down, arrows sticking from their backs, spears slammed through the armor some of them wore. Some of their heads were rolled to the side, staring at you lifelessly, and for some reason, you were overcome by guilt, as if it had been your fault they died. You grabbed yourself by the arms as you were overcome by the horror, finally realizing you were on some battlefield, wounded and terrified, with no idea how you got there.

Had your country been attacked while you slept? How could you have not noticed it? Where was your family, why did these bodies look so medieval? What the hell was going on?!

Next to you, another person stirred, clad in black armor and clearly in pain. You crawled over to the knight, helm covering his face while he clutched his side.

"Hey! Hey, stay calm!" you called out to him, and he jerked at your voice, probably just as scared as you were. "It's going to be alright," you assured him, looking his body over for wounds until you noticed the gaping opening his hand tried to press down on.

"It's okay," you kept assuring him, hoping he wouldn't notice the wavering in your voice. You had no idea if it would be okay or not. Honestly, it looked pretty bad for him. All you knew was that one should press down on wounds to stop the bleeding, and although you felt bad, you put more pressure on top of the knight's hand, hoping that would help.

"Why..." he grunted, and you gulped.

"We have to stop the bleeding so we can get you to someone who can help! A-A doctor... healer, something like that! I don't know, I'm sorry! This is all so strange, I have no idea what's going on! I'm doing my best! I just don't know what to do! I'm so so sorry!"

Your whole body was wracked with shivers as you tried to assist and help this person somehow when the sound of his voice suddenly cut through your panic in a way you didn't expect.

He chuckled.

"No, why would you help me?"

"You're hurt..." you whispered in response, saying it before thinking clearly.

"It's war. Would you not want your enemy to be hurt?" he asked, his voice lightening with curiosity. Even if the concept of war was so unfamiliar, only known through stories and history to someone like you, you understood that he meant that hurt and death were inevitable when two sides clashed. Still, it meant very little to you, who couldn't bear these thoughts even though you had to have them.

"War is awful! No one deserves to be in pain or die!" you sobbed, tears having collected in your eyes. This wasn't the right moment for your pity party; after all, this man was probably as good as dead. Yet here you were, making it about yourself and your stupid, conflicted feelings. But this guy was perhaps the same as you, lying in the dirt, scared and frightened. You didn't want the closest thing to an ally you had, to die miserably.

"I don't want this! I don't want you to die! I don't care if you're my enemy! You deserve to live and be happy! Enjoy your life, eat good food, and be in love with someone who loves you just the same! It's not fair! No one should have to die in vain!" you yelled, and it took him a moment before he laughed softly, rolling his head over the ground.

"Your Highness, get away!" someone yelled, the voice clear and strangely familiar as the black knight next to you suddenly rose from his early grave. Even though you both sat on the ground, he towered over you, the shining black of his armor looming like death incarnate. His hand reached up towards your face but instead caught your wrist from where it had touched him. You jolted in surprise, his grip crushing as it wrapped around you. Gasping out in pain, an arrow suddenly came swooshing through the air, cutting close enough to the knight's grip on you that you could feel the wind on your exposed skin around your hand, tearing you out of your fear and pain.

For a moment, his grip softened, and this time, your body responded perfectly, yanking yourself out of his hold and toppling back. It was neither elegant nor careful. It hurt as your elbows crashed onto the ground, your lower back taking most of the blow, but at least you were a few inches away from that strange knight.

Strong arms hooked underneath your body, the presence of many people surrounding you as you were lifted from the ground swiftly. You heard all sorts of armor clanking and clicking as people moved around, but even more so, you were forced to listen to the blood-curdling screams of soldiers being struck down right in front of you.

Was it the black knight or the ones now crowding around you? All of the people here wore silver plates, but you could only see hints of black through the gaps in their formation.

"Your Highness, you need to leave right now! It's too dangerous to remain here!" the soldier that held you from behind yelled over the screams, and without asking for permission, your hand was once again gripped by a bigger one, dragging you after him as he ran.

More knights closed in as you two stumbled in the opposite direction, shouting and attacking enemies behind you while you stumbled over your feet, trying to keep up. Hand lodged tightly in the iron grip of the knight, he didn't look back as he made his way through the soldiers, almost as if his mission wasn't fighting but rather fleeing.

Not so much you. Somehow, you couldn't shake off the need to look back, to assure yourself, to see something you weren't yet in the place to judge.

There he stood amongst the silver knights, flames reflecting in the brilliance of his black armor. You had been sure he had been severely wounded. Yet, he swung around his battle axe effortlessly, striking down the soldiers one after the other as if they were no match for him.

"Hurry, your Highness!" the soldier yelled, tugging you forward repeatedly as the black knight's head appeared to look up. He met your gaze in a bizarre look as it was covered in his helmet, yet you could feel his eyes drilling into you, fixating on yours while he was being attacked.

It was you who had to break the strange eye contact as you were suddenly gripped by your hips and unceremoniously lifted into the air, falling into a saddle on top of a nervously stomping horse. Reigns shoved into your hands, you yelled out in surprise as the animal took off, no regard to its rider's condition, and you could only cling to the reigns and saddle as it gallopped of to who-knows-where.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"He keeps advancing towards us, showing no signs of stopping."

"He won't stop no matter how much gold and resources we promised him! Open your eyes, Minister! It's not like he spared any of the cities he rode through during his conquest! They don't call him the "cruel tyrant" for nothing!"

Many men shouted angrily around the large table, making their panic and frustration known as they discussed how to stop the tyrannical approach of the new emperor who reigned over even his own vassal state. From small ministers to military captains, no one knew what to do, and the pressure threatened to overcome all of them. The crown on your head still felt as heavy as the first time they forced you to wear it—unfamiliar, not right. They called you their Queen, yet you didn't feel royal at all.

Because you weren't, you were an imposter.

For all you knew, you had taken over some noble's body while they were attacked by the emperor's forces. That noble turned out to be of quite a high standing, putting you into this awful position of ruling a queendom. No matter how much you asked for information from the people around you, they'd give you weird looks, expecting you to know the answers to your own questions. Still, you couldn't exactly tell them you weren't that person either, not knowing what they'd do with you if that were to happen.

And it was all that stupid game's fault.

You had no idea how this could have possibly happened. "Isekai" was only ever a concept you had seen in stories and games. But when you sat in front of a mirror for the first time, you immediately remembered the face that looked back at you—the character you had created. The disconnect to your body was severe and real; no matter how much you rubbed your face and grimaced at your reflection (the maid giving you apprehensive glances), you had to eventually accept that this body was who you were. Things still didn't make sense, but you tried your best in the new role, although it never felt right.

"If only someone had killed the emperor when they had the chance," one of the ministers noted with a dramatic sigh. All eyes fell on you for just a short moment, making you cower. You couldn't have known! That's what you kept telling yourself. He technically told you he was your enemy, but how would you have known that without playing the game? But you doubted you could have really killed the black knight—the emperor—even if someone had told you that he was your mortal enemy. Even if your body was that of the monarch under attack by the emperor, you didn't have a sword and much less the will to kill someone.

However, your hesitation made you look incapable in everyone else's eyes.

Now, you didn't just have to deal with the upcoming attack—your head still throbbing from the gash whenever you thought about the war—you were also scrutinized by everyone for failing to protect them from the emperor's advances. It was a lot to handle for someone so wholly underprepared as you were. This wasn't your life, but for them, it was all they had ever known.

The door being suddenly thrown open saved you from yet again explaining why you didn't kill the emperor when you had the chance. Why you let him live despite "knowing" who he was. All eyes fell on the butler standing in the doorway, panting heavily, holding up a letter and fanning it in the air with urgency.

"Your Highness!" he yelled through despite the lack of hair. "A letter arrived! A letter from... from... the emperor!"

Gasps went through the rows of people as the one closest to the door jumped up, ripping the letter from the butler and opening it. Some ministers gave each other worried looks, and some stretched their heads towards the one reading the letter as if to see better.

Suddenly, the minister rejoiced, laughing out loudly, and you were uncertain if that was a good or bad sign. He did sound indignant, but at the same time, he seemed to have just solved all the worries in the world.

"An alliance! The emperor wants a marriage alliance with us!"

People sprung from their seats as they cheered, although some of the older ones sent worried glances towards you. "The war is over!" someone yelled, and more of them fell into a chant as they danced around the table. But could it really be that easy?

"Uhm, I'm sorry?" you called out, gathering the attention of those still seated. "The emperor wants to marry who?"

Now, all the eyes were back on you as the cheers died down. The letter was passed towards you, the oldest, wisest minister at your right looking it over, adjusting his monocle to read it properly. Sputtering a little, he lowered the paper again, leaning forward and reaching for your hand, cupping it gently, encouragingly. Yet, you didn't feel comforted at all.

"That would be you, your Highness."

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Still as the dead, you stood in the forest clearing, waiting. Everyone around you was tense as they waited for the emperor's delegation. But you were long past nervosity. Between the letter and the arranged date to hand you over to the emperor's delegation were months of tears and training.

You tried to revolt and make the people understand that you couldn't possibly marry him! But it all fell on deaf ears when you screamed and raged. Rumors had reached you of how he had killed potential spouses for less. How this was all a facade and how the emperor would still ruthlessly conquer the land that had made you its ruler and then kill you to mock them on top of it. And you had shed many, many tears pleading for your life. Almost everyone had cried with you, chastizing you while their own hearts broke, taking pity on you, and comforting you.

But to these people, you were the only hope they had.

Perhaps you would have conducted yourself more gracefully if you had been their real queen. Accepting your fate and enduring the strict training needed to ensure you were perfect for the emperor. When you asked them to stop pleadingly, they would. But after a brief rest, you were forced to train again, your muscle memory of very little help when all the etiquette wasn't good enough for the empire's standards. It was while you were training that you finally understood something.

Every choice had consequences.

The game had warned you before starting and freezing on you. If you acted up, threw tantrums, raged, and went against what the people wanted, you got nowhere. But instead, if you sympathized with them, asked nicely, and conducted yourself well, you got everything you wanted. Giving them what they desired always ended in you getting your will. All points in charm, right?

So, if you wanted to survive, then you had to find out what the emperor desired. Quickly.

All of your senses were in survival mode, making you seem graceful and dignified while you waited, going through countless scenarios in your head. If he wanted money, you'd tell him how to construct something lucrative from your world. If he wished to reign the world, you'd offer him to conduct peace treaties in his name, having to charm more people so they'd agree. You had devised a solution to almost every problem when birds flew out of the trees, alerted by the incoming caravan.

On your way to the empire, you'd listen intently to the delegate to be prepared. Everything would be fine. You could do it. All points in charm would help you! You had trained yourself for this and made sure you were more aware of people. Everything would be fine!

But you didn't expect to see the black armor that haunted your dreams to lead the delegation, the emperor himself arriving before you the moment his horse stepped out into the clearing.

You drew in your breath sharply before bowing deeply as his horse came to a halt in front of you while your heart raced. The clattering of armor took you back to the war, your body wincing with trauma. You weren't prepared for this, his heavy footsteps shaking your resolve as they approached. Some maids gasped in horror, the soldiers on your side readying their weapons to defend you.

How could they? Everyone knew what he was capable of!

But they loved you too much to not defend you with their life if they had to. So you remained low—for their sake, too. Until a hand reached beneath your chin, cold metal clinging to your skin as your head was lifted, forcing you to face your worst fear.

With you standing straight again, he still towered above you, much like when you met him on the battlefield. His touch lingered as he reached around his head with his free hand, pulling off his helmet. His looks hadn't been much of a surprise as the emperor had sent you his painting along with countless presents once the deal was made. But still. He was devilishly handsome for such a cruel man, with hair as black as his armor and eyes as red as only the fiend could have.

"There you are," he murmured, only meant for your ears. "I've been waiting for this."

"So have I," you replied quickly, not wanting to disgruntle him at the first meeting despite your voice wavering with fear. It wasn't the ideal situation—perhaps there never would be one—but your plan was still solid: find out what he desired and force him to keep you alive to get it.

His gaze shifted from one of your eyes to the other, searching for a lie. But it wasn't. Ever since you realized you couldn't change the fate that was to befall you, only sweeten it, you had waited for the day you'd meet him.

Pleased with his findings, or the lack thereof, his lips cracked into a wide grin, befitting of the cruel tyrant as it paired well with the glint in his eyes to reveal only madness. So far, it had gone well, but you couldn't count on his mood appearing to be favorable. He was as unpredictable as his strategies on the battlefield; that much you had learned already about him. To further fall into his good graces was all you could do.

"I was surprised about your proposal," you spoke calmly, putting some of those charms to work. Reaching up, you pulled the emperor's hand from your chin, instead cupping his palm over your cheek and holding it there. The emperor watched every one of your moves with curious interest, probably expecting you to try and kill him at any given time as well. Almost, you two were alike like this.

"I didn't expect you to want--"

"You."

You forced a grin, chuckling curtly, and his expression sank slightly. "Yes, me. Why me? Why not someone from the empire or the other states? What could you want with little ol' me?"

Lips curled back even more, showing off teeth that seemed almost predatorily sharp before the emperor suddenly burst into laughter, doubling over while still holding your face in his palm. The soldiers around you two were completely taken aback at the emperor's sudden outburst, inching closer while some backed away in fear. He regained his composure quickly, though, bringing his other hand up to cup your face fully now between them as he chuckled, inspecting your face thoroughly.

"You have such a refreshing way of speaking, my dear. Unlike any other noble I've ever met. And I could just eat you up for it." His thumb loosened from the side of his hand, rubbing over your cheeks gently. The metal left a cold smear on your skin, but you forced yourself not to react to it, holding his gaze firmly while you feared that looking away could be your death sentence.

"But that was not the reason," he clarified, and you gave him a small nod, indicating that it was fine with you. "It was what you said on the battlefield. That you didn't want me to die. Me. Do you know how many of our peers disagree on that? Do you know how many I have beheaded for less than wishing for my death?"

"I do not."

He stared at you with this maddening smile on his lips before the emperor's expression suddenly softened, his thumb returning to caress your cheek. "Good," he sighed, sounding almost relieved. "I don't want to scare you. Very well then."

Letting his hands fall from your face, you still didn't feel like grasping the situation completely, but you didn't hold on to him, watching instead as he hiked up his pants, adjusting the armor over his legs before taking a knee in front of you. Everyone—including his side of soldiers—gasped, but the emperor paid them no mind. The boon of the strongest must have been that no matter what he did, he couldn't care less about the opinions of others, and he made it very clear, asking silently for your hand by presenting his own.

There was no reason to refuse him, so you placed yours into his palm, letting it linger as he reached upwards, pushing back the sleeve on your arm. His grip tightened as the bruises you had suffered from your training were exposed, face falling as he looked at the damaged goods that you felt like. Panic rose as you feared his anger, and you quickly reached over to push down the fabric again when his eyes fell from the wounds to yours, overpowering you and pushing the sleeve out of the way.

"I promise to take you as my spouse," he announced solemnly, leaning down to kiss the back of your head.

"To love and honor you, as will you, me," his lips wandered upwards as he muttered the words, kissing the small specks of bruises littering your arm.

"Not to hurt or trouble you," he looked up, lips curling into a cheeky grin as he lightly bit your arm, making you gasp before adding much more quietly, "Unless you like it."

"And protect you until my dying breath."

Finalizing his oath, the emperor quickly got up again, smiling at you like a child on Christmas. You had no idea what kind of awkwardness lay in your own expression, but when he offered his arm, proceeding with the handover, you barely hesitated to link yours with his. As if this new life wasn't surreal enough, you didn't understand his character at all. Was he a terrible tyrant or a kind husband in the making? Mad or simply living up to what people expected of him? Searching for comfort in you or planning something devious and evil?

But before you could ponder these thoughts, you heard a sudden commotion behind your back, making you look back only to see one of your soldiers break out of the protective formation and charge toward your new husband with a dagger raised.

"Die, you monster!" he yelled, aiming for the emperor's back. However, your husband twisted around without letting your arm fall, catching the dagger in his free hand. "Careful," he grumbled. "You could hurt my wife with that."

With a strong yank that you only saw, not felt, the emperor discarded the dagger, his soldiers crowding in and grabbing your knight, kicking his knee until he was doubled over. With an appalled gasp, you detached from your husband's arm, but he caught your hand, pressing his palm to yours and linking your fingers forcefully, every one of his movements deliberate, yet no less oppressing, as if to make a point.

"Tell me what to do with the traitor, my Love," your husband asked, eerily asking for your opinion. You gulped, the life of the knight weighing heavy on your mind like the crown. Looking at the emperor, he was waiting patiently for your decision, but you knew he had no intentions of letting this knight live, and you gulped. You had to survive. You had to put yourself first, even if it hurt.

"I don't want any more bloodshed. It makes me feel terrible," you whispered, looking away in defeat. "But I understand if its what you have to do."

All you had was your charm. You could have pleaded for the knight's life, but if it wasn't what the emperor wanted, you wouldn't convince him and risk your own. The words left you with a heavy heart, but it was the best you could do for yourself. You had to save yourself if you wanted to make any change—and that was hard enough.

"Very well, then," the emperor announced suddenly, turning away from the knight that attacked him, instead wrapping your arm around his again. Confused, you looked back as your husband moved onwards towards the carriage, glimpsing the same confusion in the eyes of the other soldiers.

"You're not going to kill him?" you asked as the emperor signaled for a servant to open the door to the carriage, making sure you had a steady hold on him as he led you into the inside.

"No. You said it makes you unwell. I don't want that."

"But... why?" you asked, feeling a little stupid as you took a seat in the luxurious carriage, much better than the one your state had provided for you to travel to this spot. "Isn't that what you want?"

"Again, you ask about what I want. Is that all you care about?"

You gulped, feeling busted as you watched him climb inside right behind you, his armor making it hard to move, but he managed just fine. Still, his question felt genuine and less like he expected something, so you decided to play dumb.

"Is it not the most important thing for your wife to know?" you mumbled, the subservience in your own question almost making you gag. It was hard to throw away your values, even if, in the age of this game's setting, you had to play along unless you had the strength to rise above.

The moment he sat down, the carriage began to move, your body losing its strength at the unexpected movement. However, sturdy arms caught you, helping you to sit upright again and find the emperor's gaze on you, his expression briefly worried before it grew serious. It felt like you messed up big time, and that so shortly after meeting him, too.

But then the seriousness cracked away again as he smiled, shaking his head softly. "Ridiculous," he mumbled, his eyes flitting up to meet yours again after taking a deep breath. "I just can't be mad at you, no matter how stupid your questions are. Aren't you glad you are such a charmer?"

Yes. Very glad. Very, very glad. At least at that moment.

"Then I will say it once more," he announced. "Make sure to not forget it, as I won't repeat myself a third time."

With comical playfulness, he poked your forehead, making you scrunch up your face, and he laughed at your expression in return.

"When we were on the battlefield, and you told me you didn't want me to die, I realized I couldn't. You may have been simply pitying me or trying to be nice in my last moments, but my body was overcome with vigor as if you had commanded it not to die. That's how sincere your words felt."

He leaned back, but his eyes never left you, even as he took a break from talking to seize you up. You had an inkling that without knowing about your skills yet, all points in charms must have worked back then, too.

"Almost like you put a curse on me..." he added, eyes narrowing as he thought. Gripping your thighs, you realized that, technically, this wasn't good news. Technically, you had caused this mess. All choices had consequences, and you made one without realizing it by telling him not to die.

"You are the only one who wishes for me to live, so I knew you were the only one who could stand by me. And now look what you make of me, no more wars, no bloodshed, just as you demand. Do you know what that means now?"

"That you... want to settle down?" you mumbled, half joking, half unable to think of a better response.

"No." Again, he tapped you on the forehead, and you got a feeling it was his way of reprimanding you.

"I will do as I said, protect you, love you, honor you. As long as you are with me, I will be good. I can't promise to be peaceful all the time, but at least in front of you, I'll keep my vows, and I assume you, too, bear responsibility for taking everything I want from me and replacing it with what you want. Our encounter must have been fate, as nothing could shake me until you came along. So tell me, and I hope you took note, what do I want?"

Silence fell over you two as you tried to work through all the information you had acquired. He'd stop waging war? Would stop the bloodshed? Just because you wanted him to live and he wants to honor his vows in return? This could never undo the harm you knew he had already caused to so many, but it had the potential to better the future.

"You want..." you mumbled, thinking about what it could be. It felt as if it was on the tip of your tongue, but no matter what scenario you recalled playing through in your head, you couldn't find one that fit. No money, no territory, just something he claimed he already told you.

Your eyes widened as you realized it, and the cruel emperor's grin widened madly in response.

"Correct," he murmured, leaning forward until his lips were brushing against yours, his palm returning to cradle your cheek.

"You. I want you."

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 9 months ago

Note

Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides.

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out.

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?”

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?”

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.”

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.”

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.”

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?”

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function.

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger.

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes.

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.”

“Come in, please.”

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual.

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?”

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.”

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.”

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.”

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.”

“It’s about that.”

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.”

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.”

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?”

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.”

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling?

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you.

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson.

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask.

“Months ago.”

“And Sandy said yes.”

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.”

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid.

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest.

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.”

“I need to go and tell Spencer.”

“Spencer, your good friend.”

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.”

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for.

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.”

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says.

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud.

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder.

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek.

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.”

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.”

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says.

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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thesummerpetrichor · 8 months ago

Text

𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓘 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾:

𝒪𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈

Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Its been five months since you started sleeping together, and you're having second thoughts about your "relationship" with Javier. But what does it matter to him? he hasn't even kissed you yet. 🍒 Continuation of “Off to the Races” and “Your Face is Shameless” but can be read alone.

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, thicc age gap [Javi is in his 40s reader is in her early 20s], mentions of anxiety, major angst, situationship, guilt, unrequited love, self loathing, kissing [they did it!], Javier is emotionally unavailable, petnames, major dom/sub dynamic [dd/lg ish vibes], mean!Javi then soft!dom!Javi, degradation, dumbification, minor objectification, major size kink [Javi is bigger than and can lift reader], praise kink [finally some good girl action], daddy kink, choking, pussy pronouns, finger sucking, oral [f receiving], unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if i missed anything 🫶

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello!! I'm back!! thought it would be fitting to revisit these two post hiatus. Sorry in advance for the emotional torture that is about to ensue, but I couldn't help myself. Big thank you to @pixelsandothernonsense for being a big supporter of these two and fuelling their return on the blog time and time again. Lotsa plot, lotsa porn– as always. Hope you enjoy, nasties. Mwah

🍒Off to the races 🍒Your face is shameless 🍒Masterlist

You wanted it to be easy but it’s difficult. You wanted it to be over, but it was not.

While Colombia seemed to be all fun and games at first sight, the longer you remained stuck in the American embassy’s city centre building the more you longed for home.

Your research was hitting a roadblock, and things were hard. Funding was running out, and your professors were running away. Better jobs, better prospects. But your degree was the least cause for your troubles.

You were smart. You were controlled. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you got yourself involved with Javier Peña. It seemed fun at the moment- fooling around, messing with a man double your age and four times more qualified. Trying to wrangle his true intentions out from under his furrowed brow and frown.

Looking back you felt stupid. Embarrassed. A little ashamed of what you had become. How you let him treat you.

He used you like a walking sex doll. Didn’t give you one look afterwards. Maybe a pat on the back but somehow that was more insulting. He had never kissed you. And there you were, fixing your makeup in the office bathroom after an evening under his desk had ruined it.

It had been five months since the first time he'd bent you over his desk but you were only half way through your trip. Five more months seemed too long to bear. It made you sick.

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, and sleepy and your clothes weren’t crisp as usual. You felt a little bit like the tissue you’d just dabbed against your cheek. A little flimsy and a little dirty. A little used, perhaps.

It felt a little worse knowing it was all your doing. You weren’t expecting a man like Javier to change. Objectively, it wasn’t possible. But you still asked for more. For him to use and then forget about you. You wanted to leave. You wished he’d never seen this side of you. Frankly you wished you hadn’t either.

Because you were smart and funny and interesting and could talk about all sorts of things. You liked music and books and movies and trying new food. But he’d never seen you that way. He never would.

You hadn’t spoken to him once. Not about anything that wasn’t strictly utilitarian. Especially not after he started fucking you. It was far too awkward and far too intimate.

For him.

Your feelings flip flopped every day, from the casualty of the affair seeming rather appealing, to it making your chest ache. And yet you couldn’t seem to help yourself, unable to understand not only what this thing you had going on with Agent Peña was, but why you couldn't seem to stop.

Five months camping out in the office and you hadn’t missed a single day. No matter how bad the hurt in your chest you rolled out of bed and reminded yourself of why you were where you were. It worked. It hurt, but it worked.

But after five months it seemed like getting out of bed was suddenly impossible one morning and you thought it best to stay home. You got a few calls. One from Fiestl and Van Ness. Connie Murphy sent Steve over with soup when she heard you weren’t feeling well.

No news from Javi Peña.

You slept most of the day. With your computer shut and materials put away. You didn’t want to think about it. You fixed yourself dinner- instant noodles, and headed to bed once again.

You thought it was temporary but the excruciating pain only lingered and carried you on to another day confined to the four walls of your bedroom.

It was a bad idea- ignoring your work for as long as you did. You should have known that you wouldn’t be able to put it on the back burner- considering the neurosis surrounding your work, the fact you took a two day break was impressive. It wasn’t long before your anxiety was eating away at you, an impending deadline hanging over your head and reminding you the world didn't care about your little pity party.

Stupid as it was, you found yourself crossing the street at the witching hour of 23:00- clad in the soft cotton dress you forced yourself into earlier that evening. The friday night had persuaded everyone out of the office, and you weren’t surprised when you found the top floor of the embassy building cold and empty.

You were glad, and perhaps it was the only way you could stomach being there– alone.

Your desk was exactly how you’d left it a couple of days ago- your books piled in one corner, papers thrown all over the place. It was disorganised and untidy– very unlike you. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you began to sort things out, a feeling of complete exhaustion and defeat threatening to force you into your office chair. You glanced over at Javier’s office, signs he was out for the week prompting the slight relaxation of your shoulders.

When you finally sat down to get to work, your eyes couldn't help but flutter shut every few moments, the screen of your computer zoning in and out of your vision every now and then. The words seemed to escape you, four lines on your document all you could manage before you were pressing your forehead against the wood of your desk.

After spending the past two days sleeping somehow all you wanted to do was climb right back into bed.

Music, surely that would help! Or at least you thought, to no avail, a whole album played once, yet you could only manage another paragraph. Turns out burnout was real.. and it had decided now was the best time to get you. But you weren’t ready to pack up and banish yourself to your studio apartment just yet. So you upped the volume, and sat up just a little bit straighter in your chair, and got back to work.

Something about the loneliness of working in that drab, white, characterless office was especially miserable. So miserable in fact it was almost comforting, it was so miserable it was funny. It wasn't long before you were sitting completely straight in that sad, uncomfortable office chair, laughing at yourself with a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. You were stupid, and acted silly, and had all these big feelings, but what did it matter? It was diabolical; the capacity Javier had for ruining your life, but soon enough you’d be out of here and one day you’d probably be laughing at the whole ordeal.

It was exhausting, but what could you do? The words came just a little bit easier from that point, and you felt yourself accept defeat and immersed yourself in your paper. At the end of the day you couldn’t control how he felt about you- you just had to take it or leave it. Not everything is that deep, you rolled your eyes at yourself, but you knew truthfully the lack of his care and affection was more than a little sting. You decided you were better off defining the “relationship” for yourself, and maybe showing a little bit more restraint. Who said everything had to be that serious, maybe you should've taken a page out of Javier’s book!

Yes that was it, not everything was that serious, was it?

You really wished you’d had the foresight to gauge the stupidity of trying to drown out your surroundings in a public space in the middle of the night. Sure, no external threat could get you inside the excessively secure embassy building, but what did that mean when the real threat to your sanity was the DEA attache.

Truth be told, you'd have jumped in fear if anyone had tapped their fingers on your computer screen, but when Javier rounded your desk with a raised brow and waved his hand in front of your computer, you were particularly startled.

“The hell are you doing here?”

Any other time you’d probably met him with a snappy reply, something to get him going, maybe rile him up enough till he was pressing your face against your papers and fucking you from the back. You wished you could have given him that response that day, but you were so completely out of yourself, you settled for a shrug and a normal “trying to finish this section”.

“That why you disappeared these past two days?”

“I wish.. probably would have been done by now.” His brows kit, somewhat confused and just noticing your tired, puffy eyes now that he was closer.

“When’s it due.” he leaned to sit on your table , and traced your features with his fingers. You felt your eyes flutter shut as the tip of his index ran along the bridge of your nose, and feared your new policy was at risk of being thrown right out of the window at his attention. Sighing, you leaned into his touch. Unhappy, but unable to resist it. “Next week.”

He pitched your damp cheeks between his fingers, gently shaking your head from side to side. “You've got time.”

You hummed and took a moment to look up at him- yellow table lamp doing his golden features all sorts of favours, ones that he didn't even need to begin with if you were being honest.The weight of his hand, the roughness of his skin against yours had a soft sigh escaping your lips.

Javier's hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to the back of your neck, and he gently guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you helped yourself up long enough to watch him rise beside you, stepping closer. He stepped around you, positioning himself between yourself and the chair, his breath warm against your ear.

"Sit," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His hand moved to the back of your neck again, this time pulling you down onto his lap. The gesture was possessive, not tender.

You obeyed, lowering yourself onto him, your legs on either side of his waist, dangling off the seat. Javier's hands rested on your waist momentarily, heavy and harsh, before drifting lower to your hips, pulling you further into his lap till you could feel his bulge swell against you. You felt yourself get wet, he lifted your hips and then pulled you back down against him, allowing you the slight relief of the friction as you felt yourself embarrassingly throb against him.

The proximity was suffocating, his scent—cigarettes, and aftershave. He leaned closer, and for a moment, in your delusion, you thought he might kiss you. Instead his fingers squeezed around your throat, breath fanning your lips. “You want to be daddy’s good girl, dontch’ya?” his voice was low, and biting, and you knew you were in for it, for avoiding him, when he tightened his grip at your lack of answer.

Slick pooled in your panties, and he let you press your hot core against him, undoubtedly able to feel how easily he could unravel you. You shifted your gaze up at the ceiling to avoid his own.

You squeaked out a feeble “yes”, already delirious. “Then why the fuck, did you think you could disappear without telling me?” He reached for the string that held together the top of your dress, rather aggressively tugging it undone, watching as it unravelled and revealed the soft cotton of your lingerie. “Busy” you whined when traced your skin with his pointer finger, palm coming to squeeze at your breast and then pull your bra aside.

“Not looking too busy now, are ya?” your nipple pebbled under his palm, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he trailed open mouth kisses along your neck. You whimpered, reaching to tangle your fingers in Javier’s hair. Surprisingly, he let you tug on his locks, allowing you to ground yourself as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your bud. He came up to nip at your jaw and you whimpered a soft “M’ sorry”.

“What was that?” Javier rolled his eyes and growled in your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth, and pinching the flesh of your thighs, prompting you to speak up. And speak up you did, heat seeping into your panties at his tone and words. He didn’t respond to you, just hummed his assent and pulled you harder against him.

His hands found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and his big arms crossed under you to support your weight. Continuing to kiss along your neck he plopped you on the table, but you couldn’t lie, you much preferred being carried so gently in his hold. Thank god the desk had been cleared– giving him enough room to push you back against it. You didn't really want to unwrap your legs from around him, but he grunted disapprovingly before prying your legs from his waist. Your heart jumped as he took a seat on your dingy rolly chair, his large palms lifting your legs by your calves till your feet were planted on his thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows.

Javier's eyes caught sight of your untied shoelace, a small hazard in the midst of your hurried night. As usual, without a word, he leaned down, fingers deftly working to tie the lace in a swift, fluid motion, securing the bow with a final, firm tug, patting the top of your shoe before returning to the task at hand.

His eyes were hungry like they always were, deep brown, alluring, the only readable emotion in them- lust. Those large palms parted your knees, making space for you between them. A tingle ran up your spine when he brushed the tips of his fingers against the inside of your thigh, dragging them along your skin till he was toying with the hem of your panties. He shifted forward in the chair, meeting your eyes as he planted a kiss on your calf, and then hoisted your legs up on his shoulders.

Javier took a moment to admire you, letting his rough hands roam under your skirt. You always wondered what those hands were doing; how they wrapped around his gun when he ran out of the office with it, how small they made the cigarette he was smoking look. You watched him grab, and hold, and type from across your desk when he hadn’t fucked you in a day or two, imagined those hands grabbing at your flesh and wrapping around your throat. You imagined him pumping his fingers in and out your pussy with your own hands between your legs in the middle of the night- unable to go mere days without him fucking you, salivating at the thought of those hands wrapped around his thick cock, wondering if he too couldn’t go without your touch.

Lost in your thoughts you shuddered when you felt him drag his tongue up the cut of your slit, the already moist fabric of your panties sticking to your skin as he nudged your clit with his nose. Your head fell back involuntarily, and you felt your arms ache as you continued to struggle to hold yourself up on your elbows. Seemingly, he had decided that day he wasn’t going to make you work for it- you looked like you were working far too much already.

“Look at me.” Javier sharply instructed from between your legs. Nipping the inside of your right thigh till you yelped in his hold. You weren't going to last very long at the sight of him, eyes glancing up at you as his mouth ghosted over your soaked pussy. You watched intently as his fingers pulled your panties aside, softly grazing your swollen flesh in a way that had you pulling your lip between your teeth to contain the pornographic moan that threatened to spill from your mouth and alert the security guard across the hall.

Your leg twitched on his shoulder as he licked a long, firm stripe up your aching pussy. Both your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue softly explored your folds. The sight of Javier between your legs was enough to send you over the edge, one that would live in your head for a very long time.

You struggled to hold his eyes with your own when he licked at your entrance, increasing his pace ever so slightly before he was softly sucking your clit into his mouth. Letting yourself lean back against the table you reached to continue to tangle your fingers in his hair, hoping he'd let you have his fluffy locks in your hold. Turns out you were lucky the first time, because as was more common, Javier reminded you of his “no grabbing at daddy” attitude by grasping your hand in his.

“No grabbin at daddy, babygirl” he murmured against your wetness and you shivered. His fingers engulfed yours, stroking your skin and moving your hands to your chest. His large palm covered yours and squeezed your fingers around your breasts. You moaned, and arched your back against the table up into both your palms as his tongue achingly slipped inside you.

The feel of his mouth against you was more than perfect, the way he expertly ate you out till you were wiggling your hips against his face, his nose nudging your clit as he fucked you with his tongue. Slow and soft then faster and rough, just how he knew you liked it.

He seemed to be enjoying the feeling of you just as much, groaning against your wet cunt everytime you twitched and shuddered against him, the taste of you prompting him only to bury himself deeper between your thighs, pull and grab at your hips, hold you close against him as your chest rose and fell.

Javier lashed his tongue at your entrance, then plunged it into your slick cunt. You felt your core tighten, and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. “Please…” barely able to complete your sentence you squealed when he circled your clit with his tongue. You could feel him grin against the inside of your thigh, and you reached for his hands on your hips to tug at his fingers feebly.

Making out the sound of his chuckle over your heavy breathing you whined, and then proceeded to melt in his hold when he responded with a rather gentle, yet delayed and somewhat playfully annoyed “You can come for daddy, babygirl.”

The grip of your fingers on his tightened, and you sighed, finally letting go as Javier worked between your legs. Your cunt clamped down on his tongue as he finished you off, licking you through your orgasm and holding your hips down as you shook and squirmed above him.

He kissed along your seam gently as you caught your breath, your breath hitching when he pushed two fingers in your still sensitive cunt to gently stroke your walls. He stifled a groan. You looked down between your legs as he withdrew those fingers and began to stand up. “She so fuckin wet for me, hmm?” He rubbed slow, soft circles on your clit, not caring to watch you intently for any giveaway that would instruct him on the perfect rhythm. He already knew what you liked- he didn’t need to bother. “Slutty little pussy achin’ to be fucked… after all these days, aint she?”

He took a second to get a good look at you as he moved closer between your legs, and you propped yourself back up on your elbows and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in.

“My good little slut”

Bringing his fingers to your lips he urged them open, pushing in and watching you suck gently on his digits. You shivered at the taste of your own arousal. As always you felt a little fuzzy when he did something like that– letting your eyes droop until he nudged you to release them with a pop. He ran those fingers across your lips, watching you struggle to keep your eyes on him as his hand drifted downwards to wrap swiftly around your neck. “That's better isn't it?” he pressed his clothed cock against your bare, swollen pussy, your panties surely on the verge of ripping the way they’d been pulled aside. Javier seemed to be thinking along the same lines as you, because in a moment he reached for them and urgently dragged them down your hips, unwrapping himself from your hold and holding your ankles in one hand as the other slid your panties all the way off of you.

When you whined at the loss of his body against yours he tutted, raising his eyebrows at you in warning.

He then grabbed your thigh with his hand once again, squeezing it and holding it in place against his waist. You heard the jingle of his belt as he undid it. A rough edge on said belt scraped against your skin, but it was difficult to pay attention to it when you felt him reach between your bodies to tease your dripping slit with his length.

It was sad to admit, but nothing took the weight of your shoulders much like the feeling of his hard cock sliding against your wet pussy, head bumping your clit till you were shivering and then notching at your entrance. You heard him mutter a strained curse under his breath at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in. Javier didn't waste much time, as much as he seemed to enjoy the sight of you deliriously wiggling your hips under him.

He leaned down and traced the curve of your jaw with the bridge of his nose, breathing in your scent as he pushed in– slowly and gently. Much slower and gentler than he had ever been before. Your legs tightened around him, hips lifting pathetically as you felt him stretch you open. It had been far too long since you’d had him inside you.

“Such a good little girl..” His hips snapped towards yours.

“Aren’t ya?” It was an out of body experience, so overwhelming and dizzying you could almost see yourself in the act. Your brain couldn’t comprehend that tone and that gentleness as is, forget when Javier’s cock dragged deliciously against your aching walls.

Your elbows caved from under you, letting you fall completely back against your little desk. Your head went to fall back soon after, but Javier had managed to snake his hand behind your neck– cradling your head and shielding it from the hard wooden table. Instinctively, you buried your nose in the collar of his dress shirt. He let you seek respite, palm holding you against his warm body, and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck.

Your skin felt like pins and needles, little sparks bounced off your exposed waist and prompted you to wiggle your hips away from him at the intensity of the sensations. “Nah uh” yanking you back in his direction Javier squeezed your hips in his hands, refusing to let you escape the death grip he had on your body, pulling you towards him with every deep, slow, thrust.

“Silly little thing” He laughed against your lips, so close they brushed against you. You couldn’t help it when your mouth fell slack against his. He took your bottom lip between his teeth. He released it as your walls clenched around him, brows knitting at the feel of your warm, soft cunt around his cock.

“Mine aren’t ya? Daddy’s good little slut?” Unable to catch hold of anything on the table, your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers twisting the fabric as you gripped it as tightly as you could. He let you pull him towards you, one hand sneaking between your bodies to grab and squeeze at your breast.

“Then you’re gonna take it like I give it to ya?” You tried to nod, head lulling side to side and mouth hanging open, desperate noises leaving your lips. When your back arched against the table he pulled you into his chest, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so tightly you felt the leather of his belt cut into your soft skin.

Eventually he picked up his pace, and you could make out the sound of your pens clattering to the ground as your back moved relentlessly against the desk. The dim grey flood light above you came in and out of your focus, the heat that swelled up inside you hindering your ability to concentrate on absolutely anything. “Getting all cock drunk on me..” Anything but him. Yet another orgasm stirred in your tummy, your entire body hot and tingling with overwhelm. “There’s my good girl”.

He pulled you into him with every thrust, his hard length throbbing inside of you. “Just how I like ya’– no thoughts in that head’ve yours.” Your bare chest pressed against his soft shirt, but you longed to feel the heat of his body against your skin.

“Can't think ‘bout anything but daddy can you?” he managed to laugh, his thick cock dragging against your wet walls in a way that had your mouth falling open in a gasp. “Just daddy, ain't that right?” As usual he grabbed at every part of you he could, hands seeking purchase on any exposed skin.

He grazed your earlobe with his teeth as he spoke. “Poor baby, going dumb on daddy.” All you could do was whine. “Can’t hear ya..” you whimpered again, strained and hasty “yes”s leaving your mouth at record speed as the tension in your core threatened to burst.

“S’ how it should be” your dress made it easy for you to slide along the surface of the table as he fucked into your tight, wet heat, railing you as you twitched around him. You struggled to form a broken “daddy” between your lips.

“Stupid little girl can’t do anything but be daddy’s little sexdoll hmm?” you shook your head, but he grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “‘S okay babylove, s’ how daddy likes ya best” he shook your face gently, “when ya ain't runnin that smart mouth of yours.”

He grunted and sighs above you, seemingly lost in his own pleasure, not bothering for the first time to make you beg. It was as if the two days you spent apart had him prioritising other things. “Better this way isn’t it, nothin you gotta worry that pretty head about…” you felt your cunt squeeze him. “Not when daddy’s fuckin’ ya’”

You could tell he was close by the way his thick cock throbbed against your slick walls, the way his Texan accent came through just a little more than it usually did. Your thighs quivered against his waist as the heat continued to pool in your belly.

You knew he was close when he straightened up again, hands wrapping firmly around your throat as he angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you over and over. “C’mon baby, be a good girl and come for daddy” he tightened his grip, thumb reaching up to swipe gently at your slack lips.

You felt your pussy clench around his cock, finally letting go as you writhed under him. You heard him groan over the ringing in your ears, your own eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolled over you in waves. You gushed around him, your own release prompting his.

Watching his brows knit as his thrusts got sloppy might have well sent you on a second release, aftershocks making your hips wiggle against his palms as he squeezed them, his cock throbbing inside you before he erupted with a shudder. A string of strained curses escaped his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his high.

You laid there, the heat from your exertion slowly dissipating. You felt Javier pull out, his spend trickling down your thighs, and slide your panties back up over your legs. A heaviness tugged at your limbs and made your eyelids droop. Every muscle felt loose, languid, as if all the tension and energy had been drawn out, leaving behind only a deep, satisfying fatigue.

Javier put his hands on your waist and lifted you off the table, you returned to your habitual silence, this time albeit far more satiated than before. You were dizzy, feeling like a small ghost floating in front of him, engulfed by his towering form. The world around you began to fade, sounds muffling and blurring into an indistinct background hum.

Every blink became slower, your vision narrowing to slits before closing entirely. You let yourself drift into that warm state between sleep and wakefulness, the exhaustion of the week catching up to you in more ways than one, uncaring of the sense that Javier’s eyes had been lingering. You felt him trace the bridge of your nose, reducing any prospects of you actually getting off that desk.

He fixed your lingerie and tied the bow of your dress back up, one hand returning to stroke your cheek. His other arm came to support your back as it wrapped around you, pulling you towards him. You looked up to find him watching you, with an expression you couldn’t bother to decipher at the moment.

You couldn’t help but fall into his chest as he stood above you, his arms reaching behind you as he packed your things in your work bag. You felt your eyes flutter shut again, complete exhaustion taking over your weak form. He placed a kiss to your temple, lifting you off the table once and into his hold once again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking securely at the ankles. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, fingers digging into your flesh.

You felt cold again suddenly, and Javier readjusted his arms to hold you with his right while his left rubbed along your shoulders to warm up your skin, prickled with goosebumps.

Your head rested against his shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a comforting, rhythmic lull. You nuzzled deeper into the curve of his neck, tilting your head till your nose was brushing the cut of his jaw.

Javier shifted slightly, and you could feel the subtle change in his posture as he leaned towards you, and his face came level with yours– you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the cool air around you. His hand cradled your cheek.

With your eyes still closed you felt his lips press gently against yours, so pillowy and soft you barely registered them. He tasted how you’d imagined so many times before– cigarettes, and whiskey. Melting into his touch your hands moved to ball the fabric of his shirt gently in your fist. His lips moved against your’s with a carefulness you couldn’t really understand, but the fact that they were at all was enough. Exhaustion aside, you had a feeling the triviality of the whole ordeal, its comfort and normality seemed expected. And just as quickly as it began, it was over.

Perhaps it had always meant a lot more to you, than it did to him.

The hand that was cupping your cheek pinched it and then snaked around your waist to help you find your footing on the ground, the same hand coming down to slap your ass as he pushed you towards the door.

In usual Javier fashion he checked his phone, uninterestedly murmuring a soft “you can start again tomorrow” as you stood in the elevator. He let you lean against him, his palm coming down to pat your head momentarily before it was back to sorting the files in his hands. You looked up at him, his mind now completely diverted to whatever he had come to collect in the office in the first place, so unbothered by what seemed to transpire between the two of you.

Perhaps nothing really did.

You wished his words gave you some motivation, but it was turning out to be really difficult to want to be anything more than his dumb, silly, little girl.

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

They would rue the day I was alone, without you

You're lyin' with your gold chain on

Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"

"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"

sakjdlakd I'm sorry I just can't let them be happy lmao. Hope you enjoyed this, and let me know what you think. Thank you to everyone who reblogs and comments on my content, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @/sardika 🐝✨💗

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darqx · 5 months ago

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HEEEY MACARENA (ALRIGHT!)

Here's some long overdue BP and HH asks :) I tend to combine the two since there's not as many as the RADs, so this starts with BP and then moves into HH/Gen qs.

MUAH ~ (I actually doodled this some time last year for fun and whimsy, based on those long mouth kiss meme pics XD)

A very quick overview of these types!

Vescordem: Maneaters/cannibals, excessively tall and strong.

Aleores: Minor dealmakers (goods and services). Jaw can unhinge and has venomous bite.

Sollicio: Major dealmakers - soul stealing ability. Often very good looking, has ichor powers.

Voxter: Ability to project 'thoughts' into someone else's mind - you ever have an intrusive thought? Same concept. All have a unique mark across the top part of their face.

Caumacies: Maneaters/cannibals, very strong. Has a third eye which sees only in heat vision - rarely opened simultaneously with normal eyes.

Hmm M or MA15 i think 🤔

You know, i actually have an idea for a game that has nothing to do with anything I'm currently doing XD One day i'll actually have time to make it, maybe. But anyway currently my actual project is i'm planning on making a comic \o/

I AM PLEASED TO ANNOUNCE that i have thumbnailed like 70 pages of this bloody thing and i'm still only in the first quarter of the planned chapters lol OTL Once i finish thumbing the chapter I'm on I plan to go back and render the pages properly before starting to post them :D

...which should hopefully give me a buffer as i repeat the process for the next chapters |D

You know, the concept of my characs being comfort characs for someone will never get old for me. It just tickles me pink ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ This answer will have two levels to it.

It's fine to RP or ask blog with Rire - he's one of my more "known" characs thanks to BTD so as long as credit is given (and it's made clear I'm not running the blog so it's not canon) then it's cool.

I'd prefer if no ask/RP blogs are created for any of my other BP or HH characs, as they are not as known yet. This may be revisited once i actually get the BP comic out but for now it's a no, sorry! (Though, if you are RPing in like...a private Discord with other friends who know who the characs are then I'm a bit more lenient with that.)

The reason for the BP/HH level is that ages ago when I had started establishing my own characs more, I randomly happened to find a forum where someone was RPing as Izm and .D but no one else knew who the characs were and so they clearly thought the RPer was the original artist and creator. Said RPer was not dissuading anyone of that notion. That has stuck with me for forever because at the time i never anticipated that someone would...actually try and do that with an OC. Like, bro srsly?!

One pet peeve for everyone:

.D: Willfully stupid people

Izm: .D smoking. He could care less if anyone else smokes but .D is not allowed on his watch

Marcus: Having decisions made for him without his input

Zeke: "How's the weather up there?"

Wei Ren: When people think he can't understand English cos he has an accent and so they deliberately speak slower and louder

Geez Caleb why are you damn RUDE

Here's one i prepared earlier! 😌

I'm not sure why you included Marcus as a demon, he's a human lol.

HH/More Gen

There are clubs which are created by students but need approval from the adults to exist.

HH is one of the better boarding schools which generally turn out successful alumni. The "obvious problems" we see are not actually obvious lol.

He doesn't need such manipulations.

Thanks! I hope you are inspired to go forth and create stuff! :D

One of the only perks of being a prefect at HH, really :d

Absolutely not lol

↓

4. These types of qs are always amusing to me only because you guys expect me to know but i absolutely do not XDD. Do normal people actually have a fave animal?? I dont even have a fave animal!! Anyway offshoot aside sorry that i can't even randomly assign anything, but if you are interested here is what they might be AS animals lol.

They actually don't have names because they were randomly designed NPCs i drew as like, placeholders |D;

Not including Rire or Nurse Isla:

.D is asexual, Izm is bisexual, and everyone else is straight probably. Caleb and Desmond are violently straight (as in Des is like very 90s stoner bro adamantly vocal about being straight and Caleb will actually try and break your neck for insinuating anything).

I have some female characs but I dont draw them that often as they are more side characs in BP and HH. The ones ive's drawn at least once are Isla (who looks like this, also doodled above), Tish (Des's sister) and Kenzie and Kelly (Zeke's sisters).

Every once in a blue moon i get an ask saying this but whenever i go to check nothing is wrong, so...nothing is wrong they do work |D; As the age old tech saying goes have you tried turning it off and on again? :d

Aren't those kind of things supposed to be...based on yourself??

#battle priest #hedonehigh #art #doodle #answer dump #answer #reply #long post #sz

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reallyhatethiswebsite · 7 months ago

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teasing/testing/kissing 🥵 the devil request for lovely anon it's a short one, sorry about that! this heat's killing me. i might revisit this at some point. thank you so much once again laura for all of your help, advice and encouragement ❤️

Read on AO3

So dangerous it was to tease a devil, like holding your hand out near a hungry lion’s mouth. At some point he’d snatch out, faster than she could pull back, and the game would be over – but until then, Tav couldn’t deny the rush she experienced each time she denied him, each time she slipped away just as his claws were about to sink into her soft mortal flesh. The frustration, the intrigue that alighted his clever eyes and tensed his handsome shadowed jaw, were delicious treats she shamelessly feasted on. Holding any semblance of power over a creature like Raphael was addicting. To know he desired her the way she desired him was enough to make her toes curl in her boots.

The more he pulled, the more she pushed. At first it was light, easy. Heated glances shared, a flirty word here or there from a naturally charismatic charmer who liked to talk; words that she would return, equally blasé, equally sultry. To let him know she was interested. That she wanted to play. It was fun. Thrilling. Ah, but she was fanning the embers of a roaring inferno in her passionate devil, and she simply couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.

“Have a drink with me,” he began to ask, to challenge. She wouldn’t be baited.

“Maybe some other time,” she’d say, all faux regret and longing, dissolving into the fog of day-to-day before he could ensnare her, wolf and doe.

She began to see more of him. Raphael wedged himself into her life in spaces she didn’t know existed, always smouldering with the want she’d stoked, always challenging. Tempting, same as she. Push me a little further, sweet thing, his dark gaze promised, and find out what I’ll do.

As it turned out, steal her away to the Hells where she couldn’t escape him was what he’d do. A snap of his fingers after one nudge too far – really, all she did was blow a kiss, hardly cause for kidnapping – and she was in the House of Hope. Nowhere to escape. To be devoured at last.

“You’ve played with fire without consequence for far too long, little mouse,” the devil purred. Crowded her. They were in his personal chambers, she thought. Subtle. “I think it’s time you got burned.”

“I’m fireproof,” Tav declared, arms crossed.

“Are you now? Hmm…I think we should test that claim, shouldn’t we?” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, the rough pads of his fingertips hot. He was savouring the sensation of her blood risen beneath her skin by her flush, his eyes intense, a little twitch of amusement in his expression. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip, pulled it a little.

“Yes, we should,” Tav breathed. She was entranced by him. Enchanted. She couldn’t help it. He smelled like fire, smoke, cherries. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty mouth, twisted into a smirk. How the tables had turned.

“How should we test it?”

“Kiss me,” Tav murmured. Raphael chuckled, a deep and raspy sound that gave Tav goosebumps. His glinting, arresting brown eyes became half-lidded with satisfaction.

“Given your recent behaviour, I don’t think you deserve it,” he crooned, petting at her cheeks like she were a sweet pup. He relished in her brief outrage, frustration, but it didn’t last. She was too sly.

“Well, then. I suppose you’ll never know if my claim was true, will you?” She hummed. Looking up at him. Their faces so close their breaths mingled. “And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the game. I thought you devils liked a chase. Unless those things you said about preferring it when clients put up a fight was all talk…”

“Impertinent chit,” he growled without venom.

“Got under your skin though, didn’t I?” Tav said smugly.

“Hardly,” Raphael scoffed. Tav’s smile turned a little mean.

“Then it won’t matter to you if, say…I kiss Haarlep instead, will it?”

“You will do no such thing.” This time Raphael’s snarl was sharp. He gripped her jaw tight, his ring and pinky fingers teasing the column of her throat. She gasped as he nuzzled beneath her ear, spoke directly into it. The scratch of his stubble felt so good. “How comfortable you are with me…such a lack of respect. I wonder, what should I do about it…?”

“Fucking kiss me already,” Tav snapped breathlessly. At last, the devil acquiesced – or at least with what he considered a kiss. Even he couldn’t deny their magnetism forever.

He bit at her. Sank his teeth into her plump bottom lip, sucked it into the humid cavern of his mouth to taste the tiny beads of blood he drew. Tav groaned, grabbed fistfuls of his coat. He still held her jaw, controlled the pace of his “kiss”, but Tav was never one to lay down and take it. She bit him right back, licked at his silky thin lips, lingered in their corners to push her gasps behind his teeth and make him feel them in his throat. In his lungs. Their mouths joined in a proper kiss, and this time Tav greedily swallowed Raphael’s throaty grunt. He kissed the same way he bit: hard, consuming, selfish. Tav couldn’t get enough. One hand abandoned its place on his chest and slid up the back of his neck. She sank her fingers into his lush hair, gripped his locks and tugged. He pressed her against the wall, overwhelmed her with the squash of his body. She could tell how he felt about each indulgent pull of his dark roots by the stiffness nudging against her belly, how his hips jerked with every tug. A pleasant squeeze of arousal settled in her gut. So damn good. Eventually they peeled apart, both breathing heavy.

“So,” Tav panted. The tips of their noses brushed. She yanked his hair again just to make him shudder, so she could watch the expansion of his pupils, the pleasure on his face. “Proof enough for you yet?”

The devil’s grin held a fleeting hint of fangs. “Not even close.”

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #fanfic #cringe

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gucciwins · 1 year ago

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ok but now i’m curious about when and how jo call end yn mama for the first time

Golden Sparks Josie is ten. It's been fun revisiting this family 1.3k enjoy!

“Do you think Mom or Mumma is better?” Josie asked Harry as he finished braiding her hair. Josie didn’t like Harry doing her hair, but Y/N had an early morning. She didn’t want to wake Jo up early and instead had Harry promise to do his best.

“Think Mom is normal and common here,” Harry answers, his ten-year-old daughter.

She furrowed her eyebrows, “don’t think she likes normal.”

“I’m normal,” Harry defends.

Josie shrugs in the mirror, “not in my eyes.”

Harry deflated because he is a dork at heart, but his daughter didn’t need to be so blunt. “You need to be nicer to your old man.”

Josie laughs loudly in her bathroom. “You’re not old, Dad.”

He pats her shoulders, gesturing he’s done, and follows her to the kitchen, where he will make her breakfast before her game. Y/N promised to meet her there and was sorry she couldn’t drive her there. Jo assured her it was okay. Y/N hadn’t missed a game and wouldn’t be starting now.

“Do you think she’ll like that I call her Mum?” Josie asks Harry, returning to their earlier conversation.

Harry nods, “she’s been in your life for two years. I’d say she fits the role.”

“Just because she’s with you doesn’t make her my mother.”

He sighs because he knows where Josie is coming from. After everything she experienced with her mother, he knows why she’s hesitant to call Y/N a name with so much meaning. After all, she had a mom once, and it wasn’t so good. Maybe calling Y/N Mum or Mumma would be another way of Josie to reclaim the word and give them all a new meaning.

“Y/N loves you, Josephine. She’s loved you since you opened up to her when you joined the team. Sometimes, I feel like Y/N knows you better than I do. And you’re my kid,” Harry shares. “She’s engaged to me, but it unites us all as a family when we marry. Even if we don’t share the same last name, the three of us will become one family.”

“We can take hers,” Josie suggests.

Harry kisses her head. “We’d have to talk with her about that too.”

“Do you think she considers me hers–like her child?”

Harry wishes he had all the answers for Josie, but he doesn’t, though this answer is one he’s confident in. Y/N talks about all of Josie’s accomplishments, sharing them with her family. “I can’t speak to her. I do know that every I love you she’s ever told you is real. She’s lived with us for over a year.” Y/N had been right by Harry’s side for every parent meeting open house and picked up Josie from school most of the time. She was a mother in all ways but one.

“Didn’t we move in?” Josie corrects him.

“Alright, you smarty pants,” Harry shakes his head. “You can start walking to your game.”

“Dad,” Josie drags out his name.

He swings her bag over his shoulder, thankful he had already set the cooler in the car. “Kidding, now off we go. You’re mum,” he teases, is big on punctuality.

Arriving at the field, Y/N is already there and has the first drill for warm-up set up. There is already a dad talking to her, and Harry’s sure it’s Dana’s dad who’s been chatting her up, even with the engagement ring on her finger. After last week's practice, Harry may have gone a little overboard with the PDA, but the guy can’t take a hint. Thankfully, Josie quickly runs over to her, and the man excuses himself.

His heart warms seeing his two favorite people, Y/N quick to kiss her cheek and commenting on Josie’s lopsided braids. He tried, but there is no one better than Y/N, that’s for sure. Harry sets his chair close to the girls' bench because while Y/N is focused during the game, he manages to steal a kiss or two during a throw-in or a corner if he’s lucky.

Y/N is now crouched down, tying Josie’s shoes. They’re whispering to each other about something, but Harry doesn’t dare interrupt. Y/N pats Josie’s knees and tells her she’s all good to go. One last hug and his little girl is running onto the field, where the assistant coach stands with a few other girls. The girls always liked terrorizing Kate, wanting to know about her three cats.

“Darling,” Harry sings. “Missed you.”

Y/N steps into his open arms, laying her head on his chest. “Love you, sorry I had to leave so early.”

“All forgiven now.” Y/N grins. “Only if I get to pick where we eat?” Harry knows she loves choosing, but he wants today to be special.

“Mexican?”

Harry kisses her lips. “You read my mind.”

“Did Jo seem a bit jittery to you?” Y/N changes the subject. “She’s usually calm before a game.”

Harry frowns, “did she say anything new to you?”

Y/N shakes her head.

“Then no, I have no idea.”

Weird answer Y/N thought, but decided to brush it off. “Alright, love. I’m off.”

“Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go,” he whispered.

“Dork!” Y/N shouted.

The game went well, with Golden Sparks winning 3-1 with Josie giving two assists. Y/N was waving goodbye to her players when he spotted Josie lingering away. Juliet followed Y/N’s every move, still as in awe of her aunt as when Harry first met her. Juliet got called away by Xavier, who was dealing with two toddlers. Y/N kissed her niece goodbye, promising to see her tomorrow for the pool party Y/N was hosting to celebrate the start of summer.

“Job well done, Jo.” Y/N swings Josie’s bag over her shoulder while Harry takes Y/N’s. She playfully tugs it back but lets it slip when Harry looks sternly at her.

“Are we eating at home?” Jo asks them.

Y/N smiles down at Josie. “Your dad wants Mexican. You alright with that?”

“Perfect. Can I have the keys?” Y/N offers her own, knowing Josie prefers to ride with Y/N after a game.

Josie hugs her waist tight. “I’m riding with Mum, Dad.”

Y/N freezes in place as she processes what Josie called her. Harry is right by her side, failing to hold back his grin.

Josie called her Mom. She heard it clear as day. Josie said it so confidently it was as if she’d been calling her that all her life.

“Did-did she call me?” She stutters.

Harry laughs, “you heard her, baby.”

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. She tries to hold them back but lets them fall as Harry embraces her.

She drops the bag on her shoulder, knowing Harry would pick it up, and tells him to make their food order to go. Y/N kisses Harry, muttering against his lips how much she loves him, and then takes off running to her car, eager to see her little girl and see if she’d call her Mom once more.

Y/N swings open the door on the right side where Josie always sits. She’s singing along to the radio, the AC on blast, and Y/N hugs her.

“Mumma, what’s going on?”

“I love you so much, baby. So much. You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me and your dad. Don’t know what I did to deserve someone as amazing as you to choose me as their Mom.” Y/N cries, not able to hide her emotions.

Jo hugs her tiger, “I love you too, Mum.”

Y/N wants to live in this moment forever but knows they should get home. “Let’s go home, Jo.”

“Stevie Nicks, Mum?”

“Perfect choice.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles story #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fluff #dad harry #harry x y/n #fluff #harry styles au #harry blurb #harry styles drabble

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whateverisbeautiful · 4 months ago

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Hello. Maybe you can help me with your opinion on Richonne's moment from 6.1, when they decide to act against the walkers in the quarry at the meeting. Why do you think they put Michonne and Jessie in Rick's line of sight? Michonne, as it seemed to me, was embarrassed when she begged to help him. And anyway, what kind of game is this?

Hello! It was fun revisiting this premiere episode after receiving your message, so thanks for asking. 😊 It is interesting to see one of the rare times Michonne and Jessie are in a shot together during that meeting. I think the two ladies' placement in the scene is definitely telling with Michonne being the one in front and closer to Rick. I notice how in this scene there are multiple things that make it very clear who Rick is meant to be with and I wrote out the rest of my thoughts below. ⬇️ 💗

I always like the moment when Rick asks who's in and Michonne is the first to volunteer. I didn't interpret it as embarrassment when she voices that she's in. I see Michonne's reaction more conveying that there's not even a doubt in her mind that she would support Rick in this plan so it's almost like "Of course, I'm in."

Another telling moment in that meeting is when Carter is essentially accusing Rick of being untrustworthy after his recent behavior and killing Pete. They show Rick looking over to the side as he hears this, and then they cut to Michonne making eye contact with him as they seem to again be communicating without words, all while Jessie is looking down in the background. It's interesting that despite the conversation being about Jessie's husband, the shot indicates Rick looks not at Jessie but at Michonne, knowing that Michonne is the one who understands him. I like how throughout 6.01 several scenes illustrate how Michonne really is Rick's true partner.

Also while on the Jessie subject - there's a question I'd love to get people's take on.

When Rick is trying to convince Jessie to let him save her and her kids in 5.15, Jessie asks "Would you do this for someone else? Would you do this for anyone?" And I always found that to be an odd question, especially when Rick responds "No" and then him saying no seems to be a comforting thought to Jessie and wins her trust. Why is that?

Like to me it feels strange that she seemingly wants to know that Rick wouldn't try to save any woman in a volatile dv environment. Wouldn't she want to know that this is something Rick would do for anyone in this situation? Why did she want to know Rick wouldn't do this for others?

And the way Rick answers suggesting no he wouldn't be this passionate to help just anyone, it doesn't seem like a confident no when he says it, which makes sense because I think Rick is the type who would try to save any woman being abused. And that should be a good thing about him. But it seems Jessie wanted to know Rick wasn't just doing this out of the goodness of his heart but because he desired her or something. Idk, I might be reading it all wrong but it always feels a bit strange to me, so I'd be curious to hear others' thoughts on that exchange.

#richonne #reflecting on richonne #asks & answers

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howlsofbloodhounds · 7 months ago

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When I revisit the fight Killer and Ink+Cross comic Rahafwabas made and see how Killer single handedly punched Ink to the ground in a swift move. This made me wonder if Killer holds in most of his strength in battles for it to become more interesting. (like when Killer uses his bone attacks, it doesn't send a strong force into the air basically minimizing his attack) Killer might have targeted Ink intentionally, knowing Inks powerful because of his role of protecting the AU's. Completely ignore Cross's existence altogether, only using a weak attack by throwing bones at Cross upon noticing Cross's eye glow red, anticipating Cross would attack at that moment. Perhaps perceiving Cross as pathetic, likely due to Cross being a relatively new sans at the time, lacking detailed knowledge about him.

It made me think that Killer's more physically stronger with his fists instead of his magic and would target the ones he views as stronger before going for the weaker threats.

Thank you for sending this ask anon I was actually drafting up something similar last night but I’ll just say it here.

I think people underplay killer’s skill and strength far too often. This is guy that single-handedly took all three of the Stars by himself canonically without a single injury or pause, man was bored out of his mind, and all he wanted was for dream to give him a better fight. anything.

and all of that was just a ploy by nightmare. a deliberate choice because he wanted to show dream how easily he could have him killed before he called off his attack dog. killer is literally a killing machine. imagine bro with cross’ Royal guard training.

I honestly imagine that killer is completely capable of doing shit like punching straight through walls and yanking his next victim straight through. I can perfectly see him pulling a Winter Soldier move and doing this shit, pulling bro right out the window and tossing him into traffic before punching straight through the roof and yanking out the steering wheel.

He definitely does that shit and also punches straight through people’s chests and crushes souls and hearts with his bare hands in Stage 4.

I imagine the only reason he restrains himself in Stage 2 is because it’s not that fun. He doesn’t waste his time with those he finds weak or boring—often just resorting to using his Gaster Blaster if he just wants to get it over with or (in the case of Killer vs Swap), he is breaking down and switching into Stage 1.

I’m not surprised at all if he first identifies the strongest opponent—the one who could be a challenge—and targets them first. Not only because it’s logical, but because it’s fun.

Literally fighting to near death is more like a game for Stage 2. It’s fun and it’s exhilarating. I’d imagine he’s been waiting quite awhile for someone who could be an actual challenge to his strength and abilities, and is willing to hold himself back and prolong a fight if that means it’ll be more entertaining.

Of course this comes with the flaw that he tends not to take the fight or his opponents too seriously. Most aren’t any genuine threat to him, especially if he can still Save, Load, and Reset while out in the rest of the Multiverse.

There’s a reason Nightmare only really needs Killer to get shit done. He is literally a killing machine, and his mind is just as sharp and lethal. (Which is why I personally like to hc that Dust and Horror’s additions were more for Killer than for Nightmare, although the big boss certainly has to gain some use out of them.)

His Determination means he’s not going to quit a fight until one of them is dead (and maybe not even then if he can still Reset) or until he’s called off. This is the guy that canonically had an arm cut off once, barely had any visible reaction (buddy is dissociated asf bruh), and claimed to be “absolutely fine” when questioned if he was okay by Nightmare.

I’d imagine one reason why Stage 4 is so dangerous for Killer himself and likely leaves him extremely disoriented and exhausted after is because Stage 4 does not have Stage 2’s logical reasonings or restraint and cannot be called off.

Stage 4 will likely be so Determined to kill anyone and anything nearby that’d it’d completely tear the body to shreds and run it into the ground to complete the task.

Stage 4 is fighting to kill. Stage 2 is fighting for entertainment, and to entertain.

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solargeist · 3 months ago

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TWILIGHT PRINCESS MENTION!!! It’s honestly one of my favorite games of all time (Midna is up there on my list of favorite Zelda companions), and while I know some people didn’t like it, the wolf aspect of the game was super fun for me!! Plus, the overall aesthetic of the game was PHENOMENAL! What were your favorite parts about it if I may ask? :o

my darling boy !!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think Midna is my favourite companion too, she felt like she had purpose beyond just helping Link. i loved her humour and her wit, and how much she changed over the course of the game.

My favourite parts..... hmm..... Weell i also love the art direction, the character designs are unique and memorable. I love how expressive Link is (something i very much miss !), even in his wolf form haha

People complain about it, but I loved the opening, the little moment of Link sitting by the water, the fishing, training, goats, i liked seeing what his normal life was like, the calm before the storm ! He's just a farmer boy !! cowboy ?? its such a contrast to the gothique horror themes of the rest of the game. (But that care/love is never lost throughout)

This Link, in my opinion, also has the best fit, his chainmail, the arm guards, his steel toe boots, he rly looks like he's ready to go into battle. Classic Link, but more sturdy.

I think my favourite boss battle is... the Dragon, in the sky during a thunder storm, its almost so dark you can only see it during lightning strikes.. the visuals + having to hook onto its back, its top tier.

my favourite dungeon i think is the Yeti's maison, i LOVED their characters, they're so cute. I always love a dungeon that feels.. Lived in.

OH but, i think my all time favourite part of the game, or, the cutscene i mean, is Lake Hylia, i always loved the light spirits, but that particular one is so stunning. It showing Link the history of Hyrule and the Goddesses, Link becoming so overwhelmed with the feeling of power--and Liking it--that he collapses to his knees and heaves. The whole part AFTER when Zant shows up behind Link, almost killing Midna and cursing Link to be a wolf again. Zant rly was terrifying as a kid, he's a cool villain, i like that hes intimidating-but also just, crazy ? Or, childish ? he wants to the point of tantrums, but has power to back it up.

I didn't know abt Ocarina at that age, so i didn't connect the golden wolf part until later--but i'd like to revisit TP now that i have beaten Ocarina. Collin resembling Ocarina Link is something so..... ow.

also ! it always bothered me that Link does not have a bed !! he was clearly asleep by the window in the beginning--maybe he has a roll up bed--but where is it !!! hes sleeping on the bare floor !! no blanket, pillow !

#ask #SORRY IF THIS IS WORD SALAD I DUNNO. just thoughts off the top of my head #honourable mention: the fishing hole. SO PRETTY !!!!!!!!!!

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smoshsfavoritepizzaplace · 1 month ago

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Maybe an unpopular opinion, but I recently rewatched the Guessing Reddit's Favourite Frozen Dinners and man, it should've gotten more than one episode!

Such a comfy watch, absolutley love this quartet! I wish Smosh would do a week of content on each channel that didn't last, so it has a second chance.

Another great shout is the show Tommy pitched, where everybody has to mimic video game sounds. Too much gets pushed to the side, just because it doesn't pull in viewers, not because of quality.

Yeah they have SO MANY series that should’ve continued but they haven’t. And honestly, a part of me enjoys the shows they do just to “try them out” instead of the ones that are continuous. Like I know some shows have stayed for a reason, but I would replace tntl with an older show format that I enjoyed in a heartbeat if given the chance. I don’t mean to repeatedly diss tntl but you can even hear in how the cast talks about it that they’re a little tired. Some episodes are of course fun, I’ve enjoyed a few, but I think that’s not a series that should be bi weekly. Maybe once a month or every so often bc I wouldn’t wanna get rid of it in its entirety since a lot of people enjoy it, but I think it would be better not as often. But anyway, a lot of fans have been asking for like a throwback Thursday for them to revisit shows, and I’d love that. Top of my list is probably what’re those with Angela, Amanda, and Chanse as the contestants and show w/ no name with Shayne, Courtney, and Olivia for old time sake.

#smosh #smoshblr #tommy bowe #angela giarratana #amanda lehan canto #chanse mccrary #shayne topp #courtney miller #olivia sui #anon ask

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orangejuicex3-mieoi · 2 months ago

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do u know what happened to Skylars art accounts ? It’s probs weird to ask but I know u guys were friends and I used to really love her art but can’t find her socials

skylar and me are still friends! I still text her everyday HAHA she just deleted all her social media and doesn't draw much anymore! She's actually working to become a dentist now and only draws maybe once every few months? She's pretty anti social media now and plans to eventually have a dumb phone (like a very minimal flip phone or something) so im not sure if she will ever have an art social media again. I'll ask her if she wants to say anything in response and if she does later, I'll add it to this post with an edit!

Here is skylars response:

"I don’t have any social media anymore, whether for myself or my art. I honestly don’t draw much at all anymore. At the time I had my accounts, I was very ill and agoraphobic. I used my hobbies as a distraction from working on myself, and so I spent the entire day drawing, or playing video games, or doing some loser shit. I started drawing less once I started trying to be better. Got my GED, my license, a job. I’m in school now. Got accepted into my program of choice and I’m in therapy. It takes a long time to be properly diagnosed, but it seems like we’re working toward diagnosing me with c-PTSD lol, so yeah, that’s kinda fucking my life up. There is a part of me that misses drawing. I think about it a lot. I think about making an account and trying to indulge in it. But, honestly, I fear it, along with any hobby I used to have from that time. I hope that when I’m really, truly healthy I’ll be able to revisit it and engage with it and grow with it again. Right now, I kind of reject my love for it. I don’t really trust myself with, uh, joy? I get really addicted and obsessed with my escapism, and I’m trying not to lol. If I were to annoyingly quote a song at you: “I’ve been much better, but atleast I’m healing.” I’ll send Brandi some of my more recent drawings to add, but there’s nothing impressive or finished among them. Thank you for asking about me. That’s very sweet. I never had nearly as many followers as Brandi did/does (nor did I deserve them), so it’s funny to me that someone is still thinking about me. Sorry for my verbosity. I’m a sick woman."

and I'll attach some of her recent drawings in a sec! :) I had to crop them so tumblr doesnt flag LMAO this is mari skylars main oc rn!

I also did some style exploration of her oc a few months ago for fun since skylar's been playing with her head shape!

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baxterstockmanisthecenterfold · 29 days ago

Text

I said I was gonna update my ranking of the multiple Baxter Stockmans throughout the multiverse and I decided I'm finally doing that.

It's been a long time coming in all actuality really both because of new versions popping up & also because overtime my feelings on Baxter as a whole has changed a lot over the past 2 years revisiting him. So much to the point where the previous rank list itself is heavily outdated. And I honestly want to correct that not to mention dive into it a bit more than I did last time. So with that I'm officially gonna be starting my new Baxter Stockman ranking. BUuuuuut there is a twist this time.

I won't be doing every single version in just one post like I did last time. Instead this time I'm gonna break them up into different categories, those being the way Baxter was shown. Comics, games, animation, and live action. To the disappointment of a lot of people, because I KNOW most of y'all don't read them, I'm starting off with the comics since that's where it all began honestly. On a piece of stock paper in the early 1980s & that's where it's been continuing since. So we're starting from there.

Mirage

The Stockman that started it all 40 years ago. With his seemingly innocent gift for humanity only to reveal his true fucked up & evil nature practically making himself a millionaire in weeks robbing banks with the said gifts & when he's confronted about it & asked the justifiable question as to why, all he had to say for himself was "cus it's fun". The man was evil just for the laughs of it. And if we recall him stealing the nano tech from the Utroms years ago, he always was. Granted we never know why or what even led him to be like this & I remember my younger self being a little irked by this. But my current adult self however, I can't help but actually LIKE that we don't know that much about him. Sometimes in media less is better & Baxter in this case is a good example of that. I mean sometimes villains especially the most famous ones don't really need a reason to do what they did or we don't have to know why either. Ironically enough another example of this would be the 2003 Shredder. Sure we get A backstory about him but we never got the reason as to WHY he was such an evil little shit & it worked. And I really don't see why Baxter shouldn't get this same pass. Still maybe even a tiny glimpse of his past would have been interesting but I digress. Especially when his acts outweigh them heavily. I mean in his first issue he made a terrorist ransom & then proceeded to demolish an entire building (& also unintentionally predict a certain day in September 2001..). And granted it took a few years but he managed to outdo himself with his revenge arc. Escaping prison somehow & then breaking into DARPA to willingly turn himself into the cold heartless monster he really is. Leaving 24 bodies in his wake. The first & sadly only version of Baxter with a high body count or a body count at all & I desperately need more of it. Even when it looked like he lost he still had tricks up his sleeve like poisoning April with the aforementioned nanobots those years ago if he wasn't successful in killing her in his new body. The lengths this man was willing to go for his schemes. Not even stopping with just the turtles if we count the Stranger Things crossover as canon, which I do for 2 reasons. First being the time period, 1985 which is just a year after the events for the first few mirage comics even mentioning an event or 2. Plus all the turtles & Baxter look like their mirage selves I can buy it honestly. Another reason is we get to see Baxter in action again & as the big villain. No Shredder or Krang to share the spotlight with it's all him & it's what I want since we were honestly robbed of more stories with him in the original series, this along with other examples in the mirage continuity being perfect reasons why he's a perfect main villain for a story especially when properly written. It's because of these I've grown more appreciative of mirage Baxter & the impact he made even if it's a small one he still made an impact on Baxters everywhere 2003 & IDW being prime examples of this. For that I give this first iteration a good 9/10. A great & intimidating villain & character but if only we saw more of him.

Archie comics

I admit I don't really have that much to say about Baxter in the Archie comics & that mainly is because of the fact that he's literally a bar for bar copy of his 1987 counterpart only difference being he's spared from becoming a mutant fly. Originally that's all the Archie comics were. Just written down copies of the first few 87 episodes. It wasn't until the 8th issue I think that they finally got a reboot & became its own separate thing & making original stories & characters. However Baxter himself didn't survive this reboot. Not that he's dead, apparently the turtles arrested him right after the events of "shrinking turtles" & we never see or hear of him again after that. Why they didn't use Baxter in the reboot stories I genuinely have no idea. But I mean. At least we can assume he got rehabilitated & lived a happy normal life again since neither the Foot or Turtles bothered him anymore. Again, aside from being a copy of 87, he doesn't have anything to work with, so his rating is gonna be the same as last time a solid 8/10

Cereal box comics

This guy however is not as lucky as his Archie counterpart. Already being a mutant fly we don't know anything about him, granted we could assume it's the same background as 87 since that's what every TMNT writer did around this time period before 2003, the cereal comics themselves were relatively short only lasting 3 issues, Baxter only being in the first 2, kidnapping Casey Jones & bringing him Shredder to turn him into an octopus (Because why not) & then he just dipped. Not like there was really much he could do or wanted to do & I feel the same way so he's just ok to me. A decent 5/10

Teenage mutant Hero Turtles

I've only recently learned of this guy and the newspaper comics from the early 90s in general, & like other Baxters around this time period his appearances were relatively short only popping up twice & the second time was him nearly getting his ass beat by April like the bad bitch that she is. So like others at this point I don't really have much to say about this one since we don't see or know much about him except that apparently according to Michaelangelo he eventually becomes a fly too & the two times we saw him was before that happened. This'll just be another 5/10 then

IDW publishing

Bro... Where do I even begin with this man? I guess for starters. I absolutely love him. When I was still first getting into TMNT especially looking up the different Baxters I think the 3rd or 4th thing I was introduced to was the IDW comics and from the images I saw on Google at the time I was intrigued. This Baxter was different from the other 3 I've seen so far (the 3 cartoons). "Not wearing glasses?" Well. Ok yeah that too but there was something else about him that just stood out from those 3. Every picture I had seen of him so far he looked MENACING. Like he was always up to some shit or worse. And then I saw the flyborgs which was also insane yet cool making me curious/worried as to how his fate is going to work out in terms of mutating or losing his body, especially with some fans that read the comics claiming he was "Krang's bitch" but that never happened. Nor was it ever the case. When I finally started to read the IDW continuity in either my sophomore or junior year of highschool I was instantly hooked. I was loving the story, the characters, the changes, & a whole bunch more I wish I read em sooner, but that's not why we're here, we're here to discuss Baxter & let me know say: he continued to blow me away. When I finally got to see him in action for myself I fell in love with him. My intuition from when I was 12 was right all along he IS different from the other Baxters I saw previously. For starters for that one person who said he was Krang's bitch uhh that was

B U L L S H I T

I mean yeah sure, he did work for him in the beginning couple of issues & he did need to play it safe around Krang considering he needed more information about Krang & his army & he y'know. Had to stay alive? But he was anything but sniveling or abused by him. It was NOT a "slave relationship" like he usually is with Shredder, & any time it looked like it was, Baxter was faking it because he's just a level 10 manipulator like that. At the end of the day Baxter got the last laugh as it was his betrayal & attempt to take over the technodrome that led to Krang losing everything & Baxter's freedom. He is anything but anyone's bitch. Not Krang's, Not Shredder's (I've already posted that panel of him putting him in his place multiple times), not Angel, Not old Hob's. This man doesn't take shit from ANYBODY & his human ass will let you know that in more than 2 ways. Keyword on human as the IDW continuity thankfully never fed into the 87 bullshit & mutated him nor did he become a cyborg, tho he did get a mech suit to defend his building in the "TMNT UNIVERSE" arc. The writers themselves confirming they had zero intention or interest doing so & saying he's staying human. Which was such a relief to me, as I mentioned here I genuinely believe Baxter doesn't have to be a mutant or a robot to be considered a threat or a good character especially this version of him. Hell in this universe he's basically Lex Luthor & I feel like that should be the default writing direction for him. Hell Lex is a human & he's still considered one of the greatest threats in DC, & there's plenty of more examples like him. I also remember I was skeptical about Baxter becoming mayor mostly out of fear of him biting more than he can chew as I still have PTSD of his luck inevitably running out in the TMNT mythos but once again I was happily proven wrong. He's still in office, he still has some tricks up his sleeve, he has his own Mercy Graves now, & the public still views him as a hero & such. In hindsight it really was a smart move for him. IDW Baxter is an amazingly fresh breath of fresh air in terms of the Stockmanverse as he's broken the cycle of the numerous mischaracterizations of the character along with breaking the misery cycle too cus it's so nice to finally have a Baxter Stockman that's thriving & not having you wish someone would put him out of his misery. He's the second version to do his mirage counterpart true justice, even SURPASSED him in my opinion & I just find a new reason to love him every single day, making him my second favorite version of the character. It's a shame he's underrated but at the same time it also makes him more special & personal to me. 10/10 without a damn doubt.

Batman vs TMNT II

So this guy exists. That's alI can really say about him tbh. Nothing about him seriously stood out except that he was apparently "a disgraced scientist". Does this mean he was famous in this continuity like Mirage & his true nature was exposed to the public too? Idk, it's never touched upon nor is anything else regarding him. He's just there to help Bane & yeah that's it. I've said this in the past & I don't mind repeating myself here. They literally could have just made up a random scientist & put them in his place instead. That's how little he mattered here. Actually when you do consider that fact, you could have just erased him from the story entirely & literally nothing would change, I would have actually preferred he'd have not been there at all & that says a lot coming from me. oh & he gets mutated for literally zero fucking reason so there's that too. 2/10

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers/TMNT

Another crossover, another Stockman. I thought this version was also pretty ok. When I talked about him during my 40 years of Baxter I did mention that his role is pretty small there too, yet oddly enough I'm ok with this one. Unlike DC, they make it clear they need Baxter's talents specifically & he does deliver. Not to mention this version has some snark and bark to him. I mean hell, the first time we meet bro he's attempting to mutilate the Green ranger & the rest of time is him occasionally snapping at some other characters. We don't see him again after issue 3 of the second one & I think it's for the best tbh. Would I have liked to have seen more? Sure, but it's probably for the best anyway. Writers knew what they wanted & when they were done with him & I can prefer dismissing him over having him be a nostalgia prop. 6/10

The Last Ronin

Aura at its best. So as we all know & learned, everybody in the Roninverse is on demon timing & Baxter is thankfully no exception to this. In this continuity he's just as cold & heartless as his Mirage counterpart & as a really huge obsession with the fugitoid for some reason (I mean they I eventually explained why in the sequel but still a little random) & he makes it pretty crystal fucking clear he'll stop at nothing to get what he wants & this has been going on for decades as we see above. However he realized he wasn't gonna get what he wanted so his decision was a rather simple & reasonably understandable one. And that was to simply blow the entire fucking place up taking as much bodies as he could with him. Leonardo & Casey Jones' included.

So uhh yuh. This nigga's crazy. But hey. A Baxter that's a menace is always welcomed with opened arms in my book. And it's nice to FINALLY have another Baxter with a bodycount after 28 years. Yeah all the way to mirage, despite what you might think IDW never killed anyone. He's attempted but never succeeded. But Roninverse Baxter did. And it being the leader in blue himself too. It's honestly really cool. What's also cool is his designs. From his young self resembling mirage which, is VERY Fitting in my opinion, to his off putting old man self & finally his Freddy Krueger meets the Terminator look. Another plus actually. We finally got another Cyborg Baxter after 13 years! A fate I'm seriously confused as to why it's not explored more but I'm still gonna take the wins I get & be happy when it shows up, just wish we got to see more of it & him. Which reminds me that all good things come to an end & Honeycutt did get his lickback in his second appearance ending the tyranny... unless?👁️ No seriously with the upcoming game & movie who knows what might change. Until then this man gets a 8/10

TMNT x Street fighter

This is both yet: Another random fucking crossover & 2. A good example of what you can do with Baxter on his own.... To an extent. While yes he's mostly partnered with M. Bison (who he's constantly going back & forth with like an old married couple), Baxter was basically one of if not the main villain in this story, having an active role in ALL 5 ISSUES. Not being a prop & disappearing like DC, & not one bit sniveling either. Once again we have yet another Baxter who will bark back at you even if it bites him in the ass. He's egotistic, manipulative, quick tongued & overall funny in this whole comic & he's just about what I've been craving for in modern Stockmans. With this, The stranger things crossover & even Mutant Mayhem, 2023 & 4 really were Baxter's years to shine without being Shredder's shadow. I've never noticed until now & I'm honestly grateful we got it. Because it really shows what he's capable of doing outside the foot clan. What he's basically been doing for decades in Mirage & IDW. Hell I think it might even be the case here since it looks like he's not working with the foot clan or at least not anymore since he recognized Shredder's voice & knew what he was capable of. Maybe this takes place after his traditional betraying the foot arc which we've seen him do 3 cartoons in a row & considering how this version of him is I can honestly see him pulling that shit too. Without saying more, he was honestly a delight in this crossover & if there's ever a sequel I really hope we see him again especially if he's gonna be written the same way. He is worthy of a 8/10

And with that that concludes part one of my Baxter Stockman re-ranking. I'm aware we have a new counterpart in our mists but I want to wait until we see him again/the story concludes first before I give him a proper rating & review but I will say I do like what I see so far.

Until next time tho! 🤖🪰

#ranking #tmnt #mirage #archie comics #tmht #idw #dc #batman vs tmnt #the last ronin #power rangers tmnt #tmnt vs street fighter #tmnt x naruto #eli about comics

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presiding · 7 months ago

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I'm not a new follower and I've been here long enough but i do have a relatively bad memory

So I've wanted to ask, what's your opinion on "Dishonored: death of the outsider"?

Right now I'm replaying Dishonored games not in the release order, i already finished DH2 and started Daud dlcs. Maybe I'll go for vanilla DH later

But thoughts about going through death of the outsider again makes me feel something that i can't explain... 😬

It has some interesting ideas but antagonists are underused. Locations repeat a lot. And Billie herself deserved SO much better than whatever is going on with her character

I'm genuinely debating if i should revisit *this* one or pretend that DH2 is the last game. I know that some people love DOTO but i can't find strength in me

love to chat about death of the outsider, ty for the ask!

i feel your pain. it's the one game i struggle to revisit. but! i was thinking about your points and how DotO has the feel of budget cuts.

it's been about a year since my last DotO post - so, essay time -

a measured response to common DotO criticisms

(the thousand bugs of dishonored 2 I had borne as I best could, but when doto ventured upon sidelining billie and retconning daud's arc I vowed revenge*

*can't resist a cask of amontillado joke

criticism is easy and creation is hard, so, if this isn't the type of response you wanted, you can read my other DotO posts:

how i'd write death of the outsider

that post i did after trying to play doto a third time and couldn't make it past the opening scene (you might like my tags on this re: your comment "makes me feel something i can't explain")

billie lurk as a nonprotagonist & misogynoir (more on this below...)

gonna leapfrog off your comments cause I agree!

antagonists are underused/locations repeat a lot.

who is steering the boat?

let's start up at the top; everything stems from there.

DotO was caught up in ownership/transition issues. here's an article about harvey smith and raphael colantanio at that time. if you didnt know, colantonio is the main founder of arkane (semi-related but just for fun look his appearance up then go through arkane's protags and tell me what you notice...).

quote from harvey smith re: DotO -

“Then, just as I move back, [Colantonio is] announcing that he’s leaving. Going forward, I’ll focus more and more on the Austin studio and what we’re going to do there. Death of the Outsider is my wrapping up with the guys in Lyon – the first half of that we planned together while I was living there, but the second half was worked on while I was living in Austin. I’ve been communicating with them through video conferences and stuff, so they carry a lot of the load of the second half of it.”

so the founder jumped ship and the co-creative director has to step away from his usual position (over to sinking ship Austin). meanwhile, DotO is still in development. i'm a big believer in people making art, and not companies (even in this article Smith acknowledges much of their "secret sauce" can be traceable to specific devs but i digress)

$$$ kaching - some speculation

on the note of founders - past this point in arkane's history (ie. the main founder stepping back), arkane would have been being primed for sale. this translates to high scrutiny on project expenditure (such as hiring cheaper early career staff, hiring less workers, denying your best staff raises causing them to leave and hiring cheaper workers in their place, etc) to make the company's EBITDA look more appealing to buyers (briefly, its the piece of paper that proves you're profitable). based on speculative timelines, from a purely $ perspective within the first year of dh2 being released is when you'd be looking to slim down your capitalised expenditure (aka: cutting staff while the revenue is at a peak to make number go brr and make your company look like a better investment) because to maximise the profit of a company's sale, you really have a great track record for a few years.

this is purely speculation based on timelines. companies are very careful to hide when they're doing this, ideally they want ~3 years of a great track record (and staff that will keep working their hardest).

big goals and no money

DotO was meant to be a two-part DLC like the Dh1 DLCs, so shout out to what could have been made if their original pitch had worked.

On locations & antagonists & budget - this dev's site discusses the Conservatory level in game AND specifies it was budget constraints being the reason for cutting off traversable area from that mission. Great link for comparing the original level & the DotO version, especially re: your point about reused assets/levels.

We could pick other examples here but this post is already long so -

Billie herself deserved SO much better than whatever is going on with her character

i would forgive this game anything if there was any good billie storywriting.

:')

its never just the writers

after revisiting articles to fact-check for this essay, i've seen a lot of articles blaming writers by name (you didn't do this anon which i love <3)

games are made by teams, and decision making is generally done top-down, so blaming individual contributors is shit. 1) writer's pay isn't good enough to cop this kind of abuse. 2) it's rarely in their control - you can write a beautiful scene only to have that level cut due to costs (etc), and then you need to work out how to make the story make sense. ideation & decision-making are separate and i guess 'this idea was [X]'s' should not be mistaken for 'this is the fault of [X]'s.'

on hiring fans (& imm-sim writing strategies)

the new writers [...] already had an idea of the world, as they’d seen it from the outside, as fans. “These are all people that knew this world we had created and they took it as canonical, as the gospel. Whereas, for us, it was bits and pieces we’d made up along the way.”

as someone who used to hire writers, and i promise this isn't in bad faith: don't hire fans unless your priority is cost then, sure, fans are likely to put in overtime (and not be in a position in their career where they can ask for higher remuneration - they'll pay the passion tax to be involved).

writers (esp new career writers) have to be open to receiving feedback assuming healthy/functional processes, and being a fan makes that harder because you care more. and, as a fan, you know what loose ends exist and that's where you'll naturally jump to, even though writers should start with target audience and branding, and build from there. if i expand on this i'll get offtopic so let's keep going!

DotO feels lifeless because it doesn't add anything to the DH universe, it only takes away by closing storylines without the satisfaction of closure. sure, stuff was added - the cult subplot, locations, some NPCs/enemies, etc. but they feel like part of the objectives, not part of the dishonored universe. you can feel the decision-making process when you play: there's a feeling that the priority was to finish the assets required for missions, instead of writing a story that feels immersive.

compared to standard videogame writing, where you can generally get away with "everything you touch and read relates to your objectives as the protagonist", as an imm-sim writer, you need to focus on:

how does this text build the universe so that the player feels like they're only seeing a small part of the world?

of course - this is difficult with budget/time concerns. i've said it before but this is part of why we rarely have games as rich as dishonored 1 & 2, because imm-sim design philosophy flies against the current videogame industry trends of microtransactions & cheap-to-make addictive mobile games. given a tight budget you focus on the high level story, but player immersion is a function of details.

most likely, dh2 was the end of an era. typing that out makes me sad.

what did the devs say about writing billie

*breathes deeply*

the death of the outsider protag was originally pitched as being about a regular human, someone not related to emily and corvo but instead an overseer or a brigmore witch. daud was also pitched.

this could have worked! really cool to have a nobody, or a heretic, or an overseer, be involved with the death of a god. and i've mentioned before that storywise DotO's protag could have been anyone (i think i made a joke about wyman? hah) and wouldn't change the story much, bar some daud bits.

quote from the same article:

eventually Arkane settled on Billie Lurk, Emily's companion from Dishonored 2. [...] Bakaba tells me that because Billie had already received her redemption arc in Dishonored 2, Death Of The Outsider's story could be about something more than that.

welp.

so there's two things here - a redemption arc claim, and DotO's actual story.

in addition to not being the first pick, the view was that billie's story was over. i question the 'redemption arc' claim - sure, billie helps the protag in dh2 but after her confession, if you tell her she's changed, she brushes it off and you part awkwardly without forgiving her... does that count? if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it does it make a sound? if a character redeems themselves but the story never tells you, are they redeemed?

billie's role in dh2 isn't really that different to the dlcs, where she follows you around being Mr Exposition while withholding a LOT of information that could have actually helped the protag. given DotO's plot, going after the killer who shaped her doesn't scream 'reformed' either. ludonarratively speaking, the lack of chaos implies billie never changed from being a callous killer - which i'm not against, it would have been a cool story.

and! contrast this with daud who already had his redemption arc!

When first conceptualising Death Of The Outsider in around 2014, Smith and Duval knew they wanted two things: Billie Lurk being used to get to The Outsider himself, and closure for Dishonored villain (and later ally) Daud.

in the two DLCs, as we know, he comes to realise his actions sucked, and as the player you actively make things right (related: my post about ludonarrative dissonance in dh2). so if billie had "already received her redemption arc", why was this another daud story?

imo this isn't a budget issue but a misogynoir issue. "we want this story to be not about the protagonist so any random NPC will do, how about we go with billie lurk and get a black woman as a dishonored protag?" this logic, which is what i'm reading of the above two quotes, feels frustratingly tokenistic when she's an established character with a rich background. it's an example of surface level diversity because DotO is not about her by arkane's own admission. it's a similar vibe to the companies who say they have a diverse team but you check their staff page and all the people of colour have 'assistant' in their title and the board is all white, so it's not people of colour who are driving the business. maybe this was entirely by accident but these accidents add up to systematic failure - billie gets her own game but never her own story. it feels like she got assigned the caretaker role for these two guys. great.

for fairness, let's compare to dh2. corvo & emily are relatively hands-off protags in terms of their ongoing thoughts about their surroundings and the lore placement about them specifically is sparse, and this style continues in DotO. the issue is the core narrative: corvo & emily are both the protagonists of their story in the sense that dh2's story reflects their goals ("take back what's yours"), whereas Billie is an established character who has arguably little reason to go along with each mission. worse, the main plotline she's literally forced into going along with. in the opening scene billie gets assaulted and still helps the guy who assaulted her.

fundamentally, DotO's narrative is not about billie but about daud and the outsider, and this article makes clear that was by design.

whats the takeaway

DotO is the weakest entry in the Dishonored series for most people, and blaming budget & a corporate changeover makes me feel... uh well it doesn't really help me tbh but your mileage may vary. it does interest me to think about what we could have had!

for me, my opinion is that if writing billie was a priority (link to my own post where i describe the feeling of playing doto as someone interested in billie) arkane would have made it a priority, even amidst constraints. billie's redemption arc was not resolved imo, and putting her in a game without a chaos system feels like as much a backwards slide for her as daud's plotline to kill the outsider was for his arc.

we absolutely 🤝 on not being in a rush to play the game again.

on the upside. dishonored 2 is a really wonderful game and i love it very much.

#death of the outsider #dishonored #billie lurk #look i dont like to go on even though i think there's a genuine conversation that is almost never had on here #every year there are fewer and fewer fans interested in dh. so i dont want people to feel bad if they like it #you know? its not my priority to be negative. but there's a lot about this game that doesnt sit well.#full disclosure never worked in game dev! but i lead devs and am involved in financials and led writing projects #so my angle is half business. half writing.#im always a bit surprised when people say theyre a fan of a company #the work doesnt happen in a vacuum sure #but people make up that environment #most companies are one leadership change or two bad firings away from releasing crap forevermore #we pretend that's not the case because its hard to sell a business if you cant pretend you have a 'secret sauce'#but realistically that 'sauce' is people (ew) (bad analogy)#its better to see games as art and your relationship to that art as an evolving thing #my relationship to doto is poor and that'll probs always be the case! oh well. other games with billie in!#pres writes essays in tags

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adastraperfortuna · 5 months ago

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Tears of the Kingdom; or, The Sequel to Breath of the Wild

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is one of the most focused and restrained AAA games that I've ever played. After Skyward Sword and Twilight Princess, two games that pushed the long-standing franchise formula to its breaking point, Hidemaro Fujibiyashi and his team set out to build a new Zelda identity from the ground up. With a clean slate, every feature that they added built towards the game's central themes - the majesty of nature, player freedom, and systemic play. If something wouldn't contribute to that, it often didn't end up in the game at all, leading to a lot of players complaining about Breath being threadbare, quiet, and streamlined.

I say all of that because its sequel, Tears of the Kingdom, is most decidedly none of those things. Tears is a game defined by its maximalism, taking more or less everything from Breath and tacking stuff onto it for six years. Where Breath had one map, Tears has three, and they did their absolute best to fill every square inch of the new and returning playable space to the brim with characters, quests, systems, caves, dungeons, easter eggs, and collectables. Tears is a game with seven currencies that you can trade in at five types of vendor for various rewards, and that's excluding the new upgrade systems for the new abilities that you can get from completing the new temples.

When I say that it took more or less everything from Breath of the Wild, though, I did mean it. While ostensibly a sequel, Tears functions as something much closer to a remake or reimagining in practice. The overall story structure is almost identical, down to the minutiae of which characters inherit which responsibilities from which champions/sages. The memory system for storytelling is retained, much to the detriment of the now-linear story that it's conveying. You're going to be revisiting the same towns, doing similar shrines to unlock similarly-adjacent waypoints, and restoring things to the status quo by the time you say your goodbyes.

I'm really not sure that those two goals - massively expanding a game while also being slavishly devoted to recreating it - can coexist.

Breath of the Wild wasn't an accident, and while there are things in Tears that I would port back to its predecessor if given the opportunity, taking a game defined by its minimalism and grafting three new games' worth of capital-c Content onto it is going to fundamentally change the nature of the beast. By giving the player all of these new abilities (primarily Ultrahand - check out Postscript 1), we're left with a game with even fewer true puzzles and navigational challenges than Breath, requiring the audience to play along and role-play as someone with fewer tools in their belt than they do to have fun. The looser, more character-focused storytelling that Breath used allowed the memory system to flourish with each scene comfortably making sense on its own, and with Tears's pivot to a more traditional plot it becomes possible for the player to ruin a reveal for themselves simply through bad luck.

More than that, though, Tears effectively completely eliminated Breath's exploration loop without anything waiting in the wings as a replacement. With vehicles and man-cannon towers that can take you more or less anywhere on the map, traversal has been turned into selecting a point and more or less airdropping directly to it. Maybe that was a necessary change - you can't explore the same map twice, after all. Unfortunately, with the new additions, caves and wells, only being visible from up-close (in comparison to the bright and beaconesque shrines and towers from Breath), exploration in Tears asks you to do more than exactly that, combing the map and checking every crevice and crevasse in a way that Breath only rewarded with Korok seeds and ambiance.

I'm leading with all of this negativity because this is what I was left stewing in after I gave up Tears of the Kingdom two dungeons in and a few weeks after its launch last year. For about six months, give or take a few twenty-minute play sessions to see if I was feeling it yet, I simply couldn't believe that this is what Nintendo had released as their sequel to my favorite game of all time. I was frustrated, disappointed, and hyper-critical. I enjoyed a lot about Tears, but the problems were so fresh and my expectations were so high that the flaws were all I could feel. I spent a lot of time hashing out how I felt online (see Postscript 2), and it well and truly astonished me to see how few people could sympathize. Were we even playing the same game?

As my return to Tears of the Kingdom a few weeks ago suggested, maybe we weren't.

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom is one of the most systemically generous and aesthetically luxurious AAA games that I've ever played. After Breath of the Wild, a game that felt in many ways like a blank slate for the future of a legendary franchise, Hidemaro Fujibiyashi and his team set out to rediscover and reintegrate the Zelda identity of old into this new format. With a great foundation, every feature they added could bring something new and unique to the table, providing such a wealth of options and experiences that no two players would've truly played the same game. And once I opened myself up to that, picking and choosing which parts of the game I wanted to play more judiciously and holding back from "optimal" play in lieu of finding the fun, the game blossomed for me in a million dazzling ways.

The scripted, authored material in Tears is some of the best work that a Zelda team has ever done, full stop. There are more quests that are more engaging than any of their equivalents in Breath, with every town now brimming with unique activities and fun overarching progressions both in and outside of the main quest line. So-called "Side Adventures" have you fighting off groups of monsters with roaming squadrons of soldiers, rebuilding towns, plunging into the darkest corners of the Depths in search of enemies from past games, and solving map-spanning puzzles in search of ancient wisdom. You can't throw a rock twelve feet in Hyrule without hitting an NPC with a minigame on deck, it seems, and almost all of them are a blast. Characters from Breath are given new life as leads in game-long side quests covering anything from construction to journalism, and the modes of gameplay that you're asked to engage with are diverse and fun, recontextualizing existing spaces in interesting ways.

Of course, the side material wasn't what drew me to the prior Zelda games (with the exception of Majora's Mask), and the main quest represents a bafflingly large step up from Breath of the Wild's. Each of the dungeon approach sequences is hours-long and absolutely jam-packed with memorable moments, providing a linear, focused progression that'll have you solving riddles, probing caves, and diving into storm heads. The dungeons themselves, while functionally similar to Breath's Divine Beasts, feel at once more unique and closer to the series's past by building out their own aesthetics. The bosses are more visually diverse and tactically demanding, and when you beat them you're rewarded with a fundamental shift to the area you're saving (with the exception of the Goron village, a part of the game that disappointed me enough to stop me playing for half a year). Even the approaches to the towns are reinvigorated, with interesting additions like an expanded extreme climate zone around the Gerudo Desert providing the kind of focused navigation challenges that only the Zora portion of Breath provided.

And this is all referring to the first dungeons you encounter, the stretch of the game that mirrors Breath so thoroughly that I genuinely found it concerning on my first go at it. What happens afterwards, from the "reveal" at Hyrule Castle to the moments that credits roll, is maybe my favorite sequence in Zelda history. It's deliriously smart, using the scope of the game's systems to deliver a part of the journey that feels epic, personal, global, and threatening. Their newfound freedom to create bespoke moments pays off in a finale so explosive that it's hard to believe it came from the studio that gave us Breath's Dark Beast Ganon fight, with everything from that last leap into the darkness on absolutely dripping with verve. And, my God, that last button prompt.

This is all accompanied, of course, by the best thing that a game could take from Breath of the Wild: its audiovisual presentation. While the primary overworld looks more or less like you'll remember it, the addition of the sky and Depths lets the team expand their palette to match. The sky reaches truly profound, sublime levels of beauty, while the Depths gets just about as close to horror as Zelda can handle - those two endpoints giving us something to fear and something to fight for, which in turn elevates the storytelling. The soundtrack pulls from a million influences to give us something new, but it isn't afraid to pull those old Zelda heartstrings when the time is right. One particular theme incorporation during a post-Spirit Temple cutscene had me hooting and hollering.

I do apologize if these last few paragraphs have felt closer to an exaltation than something meaningful and insightful - the best parts of this game just sort of did that to me. While Tears has problems, and I think they're worth examining, it also has a structure that lends itself to simply ignoring what you dislike and pursuing what you do. It took me approaching it from a completely different and unnatural angle to see that, though, and I'm hoping that the next Zelda is able to provide both the focus and bombast that only one of the last two excelled in. With this next blank slate, with this next fresh start - with a new map, a new style, and new ambitions - maybe they can combine the best of both worlds.

After Tears of the Kingdom came out, I found myself asking how my favorite game development team lost the magic touch and what it would take for me to get excited about their next project. The answer to that is in two parts: they didn't, and I already am.

Postscript 1: Ultrahand

Ultrahand doesn't have a place in the Zelda series. While it gives the player a lot of options, and I understand the fun that a lot of people had with it, it simultaneously breaks too many challenges and fails to introduce many more. The most interesting questions you can ask with Ultrahand are "how do you move this object" and "how do you climb over this thing", with the answer to both almost universally being "make something that can fly." While Ultrahand as-is is a technical marvel, you need to wilfully ignore most of its abilities if you want to have any fun with half of the game's puzzles, let alone traversal. It "fits" with Tears's everything-and-the-kitchen-sink vibe, but I had way more fun with the game when I refused to use it unless absolutely necessary, and I truly don't want to see it again.

Postscript 2: Apologies

In the half-year period where I was perpetually bummed about Tears of the Kingdom I let my disdain for it become a staple of my online personality. It dominated any conversation about the game that I joined, and I have the reasonable suspicion that I ruined at least a few good conversations with needless shit-flinging. To those of you that got hit by that: I apologize. The game kind of rules, actually. I was right about some things, wrong about others, but my face turn on this has well and truly wasted a lot of people's time. The least I could've done is waited until I beat it. I can't wait to intellectually learn this lesson and then never put it into practice. Oh, well.

Postscript 3: Cohost

This post is adapted from a post I made on my Cohost blog earlier this year. I will miss Cohost dearly, even if I wasn't tremendously active there.

#tears of the kingdom #breath of the wild #game criticism #cohost #zelda

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