#Although it isn't bad manipulation

[mad-hunts]

i like how barton went from being like... a hippie in terms of how he viewed sex in his early twenties, then kind of abstained from it for a few years / became sexually repressed, which... definitely isn't such a good thing. BUT then he became even more of a freak (and i do mean that in the good way this time LOL) around the time he started residency because WOW is that shit stressful. though that was also unfortunately around the time when he really started to spiral as well 😬 but we don't need to talk about that ahahhh

like the way this man learned how to express his sexuality REALLY came full circle in the end considering he was like 'yeah, back in the early days that i was in college, i was a freak. but now i'm not anymore... though do you want to see me do it again anyway?' like 💀 JSJSJ if he weren't so demented, i'd almost be inclined to say good for him, y'all LMAO feeling comfortable with your sexuality and perhaps even having a bit of fun with it (though maybe too much in barton's case, because he literally weaponizes it in order to lure in his victims. BUT once again, we don't need to talk about that right now psshhh. i actually fully intend on talking about that in the tags NGL) is more often than not a good thing after all

[soldiersgirl]

SEE ME AFTER CLASS .ᐟ

summary ⭑ good girls are bad girls that haven't been caught and the professor is about to teach his favourite student a very important lesson on responsibility. (part one) / (part three). cw ⭑ pornstar!reader x pornstar!soldier boy. payback era. 18+ smut (mdni). porn with some plot. corny porn names. mean soldier boy. veiled threats. professor x uni student dynamic. manipulation. kissing. finger sucking. light slapping. sir kink. spanking. degradation. praise. dirty talk. begging. shoe shining (?). protected p in v (safe sex work is important). doggy. choking with tie. name calling (slut, whore, doll, dollface, teacher's pet). female masturbation. cumming on face. swallowing. word count ⭑ 4,567 words (lmao)

honestly, you thought you would never see him again. sure, it was... fun to work with him that one time and you really thought that it would be a one-time thing. you never really understood, or dared to question, how vought thought this would help soldier boy's image, but you were proven wrong immediately. sales for soldier boy merch sky-rocketed and similarly, the sales of your previous works on VHS went flying off the shelves. the people loved you together and each fan-mail you received were begging for you to reunite. you tried for months to put it off, wanting to keep the creative control over your own career. but with vought's offers becoming more lucrative, more rewarding, you couldn't deny them or him any longer.

and here you found yourself. on another set, in another dress that was too short for your own good and another smirking soldier boy standing behind you as you got your make-up touched up and hair styled to perfection in two cute pigtails. you brushed away the stylist and you frowned at yourself in the mirror as soldier boy reached forward and tugged on your 'tails before letting out a wry chuckle. you twisted around in your chair and gave him a scowl that naturally formed whenever he was around, but it quickly turned into surprise. he was devoid of his usual supe-suit and instead a tight white shirt hugged his muscled chest with a dark-green tie nestled around his neck and round frames perched on his tall bridged nose. he tilts his head, smirking like he knows exactly what you're thinking, gazing at you over his glasses.

"ready to be taught a lesson?"

"i'm ready for this to be over already." you sneer before turning back around, just catching his smirk faltering. "still got that monstrosity you call a moustache, huh?" you nod towards his infamous pornstache, still trimmed and styled to perfection. he would have it no other way.

"god, i had forgotten how much of you bitch you were." he hums before leaning down behind you and gazing into the mirror, much like the first time you met, and running his hands over his quaffed hair, tucking down any strays. "plus, i don't remember you complainin' when you were riding my face like a fuckin' rollercoaster at disney. so shut your shitten trap if you know what's good for you." he bristles as he smooths his stache over with his pointer finger.

"looks like you didn't fuck me hard enough last time. common issue for you, isn't it?" you cock your head to the side and pout at his reflection, only earning a grunt in return as his eyes never leave his own face.

"i'm gonna fuck you so hard, you won't be able to think of anymore of those witty comebacks you got there." the threat rolls naturally of his tongue as he tightens his tie and gives himself a nod. he lazily gazes down at you and offers a sideways grin. "if i didn't know any better, sweetheart, it's almost like you're begging to be ruined." he grabs the back of your head and forces you to look at yourself as he leans in and whispers. "don't you worry, the professor is gonna show you what a good fuckin' does to a bitch, like yerself." he nips at your earlobes and shoves your head forward before straightening himself up and walking to his dressing room to prepare himself for his big scenes. although your cheeks heated up with embarrassment at how quickly you fell under his spell, you couldn't deny the way your thighs clenched together at his promising words.

after working with soldier boy for the first time, no one had really lived up to him since. you had tried to find substitutions, tried to find the same excitement and thrill that coursed through your body at the touch of his hand or lips against yours, but to no avail. although you despised the man and everything he represented, you loved what he did to you.

as you bent down to buckle your mary-janes and pull up your patterned knee socks, you took a second to gaze over the set. wooden university desks were scattered around the room with books open to random pages and pencil cases spread about the set-up classroom. an old-fashioned military green chalkboard had been hung up and the set coordinators had even taken the time to scribble some drawings and equations across it alongside today's date in the corner. to make the set more believable soldier boy's oak desk had been cluttered with various half-marked essays, a gold-rim typewriter, a forgotten cup of coffee and a plaque that read "professor b. dover". you shot up and ran your finger over the indented letters, shouting over your shoulder to anyone in earshot.

"what does the b stand for?"

"ben, my real name." you flinch as soldier boy's strong hands come up and rest on your shoulders, causing your hand to fall and your shoulders to stiffen.

"so, professor ben dover? like bend over?" you scoff as you peel his hands off you and swivel to face him. he chuckles and nods as you roll your eyes. "is everything just a joke to you?" you sigh.

"lighten the fuck up, doll. not everythin' has to be so fuckin' serious." he tugs on your pigtail again and your head jerks along with it. you wince in sudden pain and this time, it was his turn to roll his eyes. "try to have some fun for once, eh? wouldn't kill you." he walks around and settles himself in his red velour chair, running his broad hands over the armrest with a smirk, enjoying the soft fabric beneath his rough fingertips. much like how he loves them against your soft skin. he pulls and tugs on his sleeves as you silently sit down by one of the desks and wait for the director to brief you and call action. you sigh and twirl on your hair as you rest your eyes dance around the room before naturally settling on soldier boy and his hypnotic gaze. although nothing is said, everything is shared and he has you exactly where he wants and you both know it.

"so! exciting, ain't this? the people loved you the first time, so this is gonna make us all very rich." the director clutches his clipboard as his eyes flicker between the two of you, each wearing an unimpressed reaction. "right. uh, it's the well-loved storyline. irresponsible college student misses a deadline and fails the class and her caring professor is willing to bend the rules to help her pass, but..." he holds his hands out to allow you to answer, like an interactive theatre stage. you raise your eyebrows in surprise and gaze at soldier boy for a second, his expression equally as confused.

"but i gotta fuck him first." you mutter.

"exactly!" he yells in delight. he gives his clipboard a smack, glances back over at the interns and set crew as they signal that the cameras are ready and the lighting is in place. "let's make some money." he gives you both a thumbs up before he rushes back into his director's chair and yells "ACTION!". you immediately enter the mindset of your character and forget the dislike for your co-actor that simmers under your skin.

"any reason why you stayed behind after class, young miss?" soldier boy raises his eyebrows as he tugs down his circular frames and lets his eyes roam over you, sitting cross-legged behind your worn-wooden desk with a slight pout on your glossy lips. you loudly sigh and close your math book before resting your chin in your hand and gazing right back at him. as he leans back and crosses his large arms, the velour chair squeaks as it struggles to hold his muscled build.

"i know i failed your class, professor dover, but i need your help. my best friend said she had made a deal with you before and... i really need to pass." your long, manicured fingers run along the edges of your book as you nibble on your bottom lip and bat your large eyelashes at him. he couldn't help but scoff, you played the role of innocent student almost too well, but he quickly caught and corrected himself.

"you can call me ben, we're outside of office hours." he starts before settling his judging gaze on you. "but... let me get this right." the chair creaks as he leans forward and rests his forearms on the desk, sighing loudly. "you think you can just bat your little eyes at me and i'll let you pass?" you lean back, skirt your fingers across the hem of your sundress before you uncross your legs to flash your underwear and cross them again the other way whilst you shake your head. soldier boy sucks his teeth and tuts loudly at the sight of your cute underwear. he couldn't wait to dive into them, like before, and feel how wet you are for him.

"oh, no, professor. uh, sorry, ben. not at all. i wouldn't–" you stop yourself and brush your hair away from your face. "i'll do anything to pass, sir. please. my dad's gonna be so mad if i don't pass this semester." you lean over your desk, resting your chest on top of your book and exposing your cleavage to him. "are there any extra-curricular activities i can do? anything i can help with?" you let one of your sundress straps glides down and rests on your upper arm, exposing more of your breasts. "i'm a quick learner, sir." you put on your best act for the cameras, wearing the role of innocent student like a second skin; second nature. you were just simply a desperate student begging for help from her older, wiser professor.

"yeah, i bet you fuckin' are." soldier boy scoffs under his breath before running his hand over his gelled hair and looking up at you with a smirk as his eyes dart down to your chest. "listen, doll. i–" you interrupt him by shooting up and walking around to the front of his desk, clasping your hands together in desperation.

"mr. dover. please. i'll do anything, anything you want!" you lean forward and grasp his hands in your small ones, a pleading glint in your eyes. your tits are almost spilling out the top of the dress and he lets out a low groan. he could barely even contain himself any longer.

"alright, alright." he throws up his hands, palms facing forward, signalling for you to stop your begging. "i'll help you, but first, i gotta teach you a lesson on obedience and responsibility. wouldn't you agree?" it was his turn to grab your hands, holding you frozen in place as he uses the other to forcefully grab your chin. "can't believe i have a classroom filled with sluts like you." he sneers, his nose scrunching and his glasses lifting, framing and highlighting the hunger in his eyes. "i've seen the way you look at me in class. the way you fuckin' bite your lips whenever i even glance at you. the way you clench those thighs beneath the shortest fuckin' skirts and dresses, i've ever seen." he huffs as your mouth gapes in embarrassment at each of his damning words. your hands instinctively crawl up your thighs and press themselves against your weeping core, just to feel any kind of relief. you caress and glide your fingers delicately over your most sensitive bundle of nerves, wishing it was his hands instead as he continues to deliciously degrade you. "such a dirty girl, aren't ya? i bet no one's ever touched ya, the way i will. the way you really want to be touched. used." all you can do is mindlessly nod in return, a slow grin taking up your face before he gives you a small slap. you open your mouth to complain but, he takes the opportunity to jab his thumb into your mouth and admiring the way your tongue curls and slides over it, sucking on it like your life depended on it.

he couldn't wait anymore.

he pulls his thumb out, reaches around and grabs the nape of your neck before yanking you forward over his desk and crashing his lips against your own. he devours each of your mewls and moans, smirking to himself at how quickly you fall under his spell. your hands skim over his upper body, feeling the white, tight shirt under your fingertips and finally, clutching onto his biceps as you let yourself succumb to his touch. he tugged back your head and revelled in the sight of your bitten, swollen lips as you tried to catch your breath, but soldier boy was never one to be patient. he grabbed one of your perfectly braided pigtails and tugged on it, almost leading you like a dog on a leash, around the desk until you're stumbling in front of him, as he settled back into this chair. his large hand brushes over your hair, trying to get it into place before fully leaning back and just watching you. your heaving chest, your trembling knees, and your blown pupils.

"christ.." he mumbles under his breath. "take them fucking panties off. it's time for your punishment, dollface." he pushes back his chair and slaps his lap before caressing it, inviting you. tempting you. you couldn't help but gasp as it dawned on you what he had in mind and you couldn't have tugged down your cute, cotton underwear any faster. you let them stay bunched at your ankles as you leaned yourself over his broad lap, his large frame swallowing you as you lay there at his mercy. his fingers traced the hem of your sundress, lifting it slowly as he watches it dance over the curve of your ass and settle in the dip of your back. "now, you know the rules, don't ya? you gotta count out loud and so, help you god, if you stop then we start all over again until you can fuckin' get it right." he palms your ass, spreading the cheeks apart before kneading them like dough and laughing dryly as you hang your head and only nod. SMACK! "answer your professor." you yelp out in pain, your head wrenching back and your legs futilely kick.

"yes, yes! yes, sir." you whimper. he gives you a nod before muttering a "good girl." and letting a second smack reverberate around the carefully curated classroom. "one!" you yell out. SMACK! "two!". SMACK! "three.." you gasp. each smack was harsher than the last, tears brimming in your eyes. you couldn't hear much besides your heartbeat in your eyes, but between the deafening beats, you could hear soldier boy's low chuckles between each assault on your delicate skin. he smooths his palm over your cheek, laughing as you squirm under him.

"only two more, good girl. you can do it, can't you? you're a big girl now. big college student who is gonna fuck her professor to pass." his taunting tone only adds to your pain and your undeniable pleasure. usually, your co-actors were sweet and somewhat rough, but soldier boy always gave you what you desired most, no matter how much you try to deny it. a groan from you, followed by another strike to your reddened cheek and a drawn-out "fooouurr...." as you let the tears run down your face and over your gasping mouth. SMACK! "five." you cry out and hiss, your body finally relaxing as he coos, leaning down to flutter kisses over the branded curve of your ass. he pulls you up and sits you on his lap, encircling his arms around you and hugging you tight as you share short pecks that grew increasingly more urgent; the desire simmering right below the surface. he slowly pushes his off his lap and down onto the floor, sitting your slick clit right against the tip of his shoe. he flicks his chin up, indicating for you to lift your arms and he tugs off your flimsy sun-dress and throws it carelessly across the classroom.

"now, my shoe needs shining, doll. you can help with that, can't you? said you'd do anything." he leans in and down, gliding his calloused fingertip down the bridge of your nose before tapping your nose tip. "get to fuckin' work." he lifts his oxfords up and bumps them against your slick folds, making you yelp and latch onto his thigh for support. you spread your legs more and settle against his shoe, rocking your hips and rubbing your clit against the top of his shoe. the sensation of the laces and bumps against your folds and unattended clit made you feel dizzy. no man had ever made you feel this desperate for praise, for their approval. and no man had ever expected this of you, but for soldier boy, you were willing to do anything. you gritted your teeth and frowned deeply as you concentrated on rutting and grinding, spreading your arousal all over his expensive shoes, fulfilling his wishes.

he loosened his tie and patted your head as you whined and moaned beneath him, your claw-like nails digging into his full thighs. he pulled off his tie and looped it around your neck, tightening it until rested nicely between the valley of your breasts, his fingers skimming gently over you; making you shiver and moan in anticipation. his touch, his attention was like a drug you couldn't get enough of. whenever he gazed upon you it was like the sun shone only on you and made you glow in its glory. he cupped your cheek and kept your gaze on him as he bumped and lifted his shoe against your glossy folds and basked in your mewls and protests.

"hm, such a teacher's pet. willing to do anything for a good grade." he hummed, his thumb dragging across your cheek and pinching it. "let me see how much of a mess you've made." he roughly pushes you off his shoe and you land with a small yelp. he lifts his shoe an inch of the floor and a gasp falls past his lips. his eyes catch the camera as he angles his oxfords against the harsh set lights; his shoe glistening with your dripping arousal. "haven't even fuckin' touch your cunt yet and you're so soaked." he groans in approval.

"ple– please, touch me, sir. i need you. need you." you sat up on your knees and reached out, your hand grazing over his growing bulge that was barely suppressed in his black slacks. "need to pass." you mumble as you attempted to open his belt, but he quickly brushed your hands away with a devilish grin as he gazed down onto you. like a king with an effortless sense of authority and you were nothing but his adoring follower.

"needy lil' girl. huh? you need to pass, you need to get fucked, you need my cock. you think you deserve any of it, doll? hm?" his grin softens as he toys with the tip of his tie, which sat snugly around your neck. "you think you make the rules around here? since when can a ditzy slut like you make decisions?" he grabbed and tugged on it like a dog leash, bringing you to your feet and following swiftly behind. his hands reached up and smoothing the top of your head, running his hands over your frizzy pigtails, teasingly down the side of your neck, over your shoulders until they circled and tugged on your hardened nipples with a sigh of content. you stand on your tiptoes and tenderly kiss his lips, his stubble grazing against your chin and cheeks as your tongue lapped against his. each harsh tug on your nipples was followed by flittering touches, each bite of your lip was followed by a soft moan from him.

he was as harsh and untameable as the sea, but interchangeably as soft and delicate as a soft summer breeze. he gives you one final peck and places his round spectacles on your face, offering you a small smile before he leads you to stand to the side of the desk and facing away from him, out toward the classroom. behind you, you hear the promising sound of his belt unbuckling and an expectant shudder runs down your back. you twist to peek over your shoulder, but your head is immediately shoved back around and you let out a school-girl giggle. the clang and swoosh of his slacks falling to the floor, the familiar sound of a condom packet opening and a loud hiss as he lazily jerks his leaking cock.

"now do like my fuckin' name and ben dover." he chuckles to himself and thankfully, you were facing away from the camera, as you dramatically rolled your eyes before he pushes you down onto the desk by the back of your head with a grunt. you fumble as the glasses almost fall off your nose and you push them up, just in time to look back and catch the sight you had been looking forward to. his hair tousled, his shirt unbuttoned and his large cock aching to be stuffed in between your familiar folds. he ran his tip up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices and gently tapping it against your clit. your knees buckled and your heart threatened to beat out of your ribcage; you could barely wait another second. a glob of spit lands in soldier boy's rough hands as he fists his cock one last time before prodding your entrance before deliciously sinking into you. your folds and walls welcoming him as your legs shake beneath you and soldier boy shudders behind you as he buries himself deep into you. your pussy clamped down and clenched around him as he caught his breath, before tortuously dragging himself back and slamming into you with no warning. you shot forward and held onto the edges of his oak desk for support as he picked up his pace, his balls rocking into your clit with a steady beat.

"fuck, oh my god, siiiir." you drone as his tip expertly nudges against your cervix, each thrust turning your brain to mush. "fuck, fuck! ngggh–!" his harsh grip on your hips tightens as he relentlessly slams into you. his breath ragged and his eyes wild as he takes in the sight of you beneath him, all for him. in this moment, the two of you completely forget the crew on set and lose yourselves in the sensation of taking out each other's frustrations on one another. he leans forward and fumbles for a second before grabbing the length of his green tie and tugging it back. your constricted airways make your eyes flutter as he wraps it around his large fist, burying himself deeper into you. the desk groans and squeaks under the force and weight of soldier boy ramming into your aching cunt.

"i warned you." he chuckles into your ear as he picks up momentum and fucks into you at a superhuman pace. you're reminded of his harsh words from before and you silently accept your fate. "should start callin' you the teachers whore." he gasps against your neck in between vigorous thrusts, grazing his teeth against your pulsating vein. "gonna teach you how to take a real cock, how to get fucked like a real whore. you'd like that, wouldn't ya?" an absence of an answer from you makes him tug on the tie, you gasp and struggle for air before he relents. "wouldn't you, dollface, hm?" he repeats.

"yes, yes! please, oh my god. teach me, please. i wanna be your pet, teacher's pet." you choke out. he releases his unyielding grip around the tie, making you fall forward and heave for air, pushing the sliding glasses up your nose again.

"rub your lil' clit for me, yeah? let the professor see how much you wanna pass his class." without delay, you slide your hand between your thighs and clumsily rub your wet clit in frenzied circles. your climax was charging at you like a runaway train and soldier boy could sense it in how you squeezed his length. "cum for me. cream all over your professor's cock." he mutters, sweat dripping down his forehead. with a few added thrusts and harsh pinches to your clit, your climax washing over you as your knees buckled whilst soldier boy used his strength to keep you in place. the wet squelch of your cunt drove soldier boy crazy, a ring of cum forming around the base of his cock and it almost tipped him over the edge. "are you my good lil' girl? my good lil' student?" he whispers as he pokes out his tongue, gritting his teeth as his abdomen tenses. so close.

"yes, sir. your best girl, best student! your good girl." you cry out and that was all he needed. to your surprise, he yanks himself out of your inviting cunt, pulls off his condom, yanks you off his desk and down onto your knees.

"open your mouth, whore mouth. lemme see that tongue." you lean your head back and flatten your tongue, readying yourself for his release. he pumps himself a few times before staggering closer to you, grabbing the top of your head to steady himself and loudly sighing as he cums all over your face. his mouth agape in awe as his seed glides down your heated-up cheeks and into the crevices of your mouth. he guides his tip down and rests it against your tongue as the last of his cum glides down your throat before you suck on his tip. "oh, fuck, doll..." he moans as you collect the scattered cum on your ring finger and suck it clean, showing your empty mouth to him.

"did i pass, sir?" you gaze up at him with those damn trusting eyes and swollen lips, your chest still heaving.

"with flyin' fuckin' colours." he huffs, brushing his loose hairs away from his face and grabbing his glasses back from you and lifting you back to your feet. the heels of mary-janes clicking against the wooden floorboards. "flying. fucking. colours." each word spoken in between chaste kisses.

"CUT!"

like every time before, your manager pushes past the set crew and wraps you in your pink, fluffy bathrobe, as well as handing you a face-wipe and a bottle of water. soldier boy loosened his limbs before pulling up the slacks and buckling them, giving you a satisfied nod accompanied by his wolfish smirk.

"think i got the job done this time, don't ya agree?" he laughs, frowning as the interns crowd him and ask him countless questions. he waves them away with a grunt, concentrating his laser gaze on you again. you simply scoff in return, acting unimpressed. he bristles and sighs. "c'mon, give a guy a break. we both know the truth." his cocky behaviour cloaking his need for approval from you.

"maybe third time will be the charm. isn't that what they say?" you wink before sauntering off with your manager following close behind. soldier boy stood stunned, speechless. in that moment, he made up his mind. he was going to do everything it took to be in between your thighs again, so help him god if it would be the last thing he'd ever get to do.

a/n: and we're back. just as fun to write as the first time and i hope everyone wants a third one because i'm already brainstorming some ideas! LIKES, FEEDBACK & REBLOGS are appreciated, if you loved this! ⭑ millie's masterlist ⭑ -`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @0ccvltism @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @cowboysandcigarettes @daylighted @valjy @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @syrma-sensei @rositaslabyrinth @blossomingorchids @deansbbyx @mads-ackles @lunaleah @diawinchester217 @sunnyteume @drakulana @k-slla @deansbeer @h8aaz @samslovebug @missus-ackles @barnes70stark (comment or inbox me to be added/taken off)

[writingwithcolor]

The protagonist of my story is pressured into killing, should I refrain from making her Jewish to avoid stereotyping?

@run-remi-run asks:

Hello, I'm developing a teen character living in Michigan and have been considering making her/her family Jewish; however I'm worried they'll fall into the evil Jewish person stereotype. The teen is the protagonist of her story, but she is pressured into killing at least one person. I understand that villains in media being portrayed as Jewish or with Jewish features has furthered antisemitism, and I understand my character isn't exempt from this just because I see her in a positive light. Should I refrain from making her Jewish?

This doesn't fit the stereotype

If the whole idea is that she’s pressured into doing bad things, that doesn’t fit the stereotype or trope at all because the trope has us as evil masterminds but in your scenario she’s the one being manipulated. The negative trope isn’t just “Jewish person does something bad” it’s a lot more specific than that. -Shira

Any Michigan influences?

Commenting strictly as a Michigan resident: is there any reason why you included the character’s Michigander origins in your question? Is there something about Michigan that’s influencing how you think a Jewish character might be depicted or viewed by others in your story? I’m asking not to be interrogatory, but out of curiosity and need for clarification.

–Jess

Evil Jewish person stereotype

Shira’s answer speaks directly to this and a lot more concisely, but I wanted to take a minute and go deeper into the phrase “Evil Jewish person stereotype,” for the sake of helping break down what’s actually happening and why it works the ways that it does.

There are two forces at work here, not unrelated to each other but not identical either. One is the portrayal of evil characters using tropes that suggest Jewish coding, and the other is a cultural suspicion of Jewish people’s motives and actions. They’re two sides of the same coin, perhaps, but I’d like to look at them separately, since the difference--that one refers to fictional characters and the other to actual people--matters in the context of reading and writing fiction.

Jewish coding in Villain characters

There are aspects of a character’s physical appearance that can suggest Jewishness even as we acknowledge that Jewish individuals don’t necessarily match those looks. Those might include a hooked nose, hair that is curly or red, a sallow complexion, an angular face. These attributes are not inherently bad: a text portraying them is antisemitic when these attributes are a visual signal of bad motives or are only present in bad characters and not good ones. Although not at issue here, it’s worth noting that these attributes can also raise questions in settings where all Jewish characters have them, because the flip side of these attributes being used to denote Jewishness is the erasure of Jewish people who don’t have these looks. 

 There are also aspects of a character’s personality that are repetitions of historical accusations against Jews, justifications for violence or persecution rather than reflections of genuine events. These might include greed, arrogance, bloodthirstiness, and a willingness to hurt or kill children for personal gain. These tropes have accrued over centuries in spite of the fact that every single one of them runs counter to any genuine Jewish values because ultimately, they’re not based on real-world actions by real-life Jewish people, but a product of leader after leader over time riling up their followers into dehumanizing a minority population, for the usual reasons people have for dehumanizing minority populations. 

Jewish coding in villain characters is not necessarily the same as stereotyping Jewish people as being evil. It does however support and maintain unconscious antisemitic biases. That is to say, when you meet someone who is Jewish, you’re not necessarily thinking “Mother Gothel was coded with Jewish tropes so this Jewish person probably is evil,” but if someone shows you a picture of a person with a hooked nose and curly hair and says “this person is greedy and hurts children,” exposure to Mother Gothel and other fictional villains on the same model might make you less likely to say “That doesn’t sound right.” 

Meanwhile, back in Michigan

Like Shira said, your character is not the mastermind of the murder she’s being forced into. Rather, she’s a victim of whatever character or circumstance is forcing her into it. As long as that’s apparent in your narrative, you’re not supporting an existing harmful trope or stereotype. I would treat the concept differently if this were, for instance, a dark narrative of a remorseless killer. In the current climate I would also advise against any imagery of a Jewish person of any age or agency killing a child or person of color of any kind, as that is the latest iteration of the medieval blood libel in modern times.  I would even have pause in this situation, where she’s not the author of her own act but does commit it, if she does not experience remorse or if she enjoys doing it. What matters here is her motive. 

If this character is Jewish, then that’s going to affect her approach to the incident in certain ways. While Christian and Christian-influenced secular culture regard “good” and “bad” as the ultimate thing to worry about, even at the cost of martyrdom or murder, Judaism places life as the highest value. There are very few of the laws and customs of Jewish life that one is not expected to break in order to avoid death, but one of those is murder. Now, Jewish characters make choices that aren’t perfectly consistent with Jewish law all the time, so what I’m asking is not to not write this, but to write it on purpose.

What does it do to your character?

Who is she before and after?

How many of us could truly choose to die rather than kill in her situation?

Does she own perhaps a necklace or decor item with the word “חי” on it?

What does seeing it do to her?

In what other ways does her Jewishness make her interesting and relevant as a character?

If it’s just curly hair and matzah ball soup on an otherwise Christian character, why bother. But if you’re willing to put in the time to research Jewish attitudes toward life and death and how they differ--even and especially in a teenager’s schema--from the Christian and Christian-influenced majority conception, then there’s room for an interesting narrative here. 

-Meir 

[venusbyline]

Revenge ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 30, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x niece!reader x Aegon II Targaryen

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: mirror sex

— summary: Aegon wants to please you, his niece and betrothed, during the night of your nineteenth name day. However, everything goes wrong when you reject Aegon's touch and he decides to try to make amends with Aemond, letting the younger prince take revenge on your brothers in the worst way possible.

— word count: 4.0k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 30th day, female!reader, dark!Aegon, dark!Aemond, Jacaerys' twin sister!reader, betrothed!Aegon, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT (i'm not kidding, this is REALLY disgusting), rape/non-con, mirror sex, Targcest (uncles/niece), degradation, non-consensual somnophilia, vaginal sex, rough sex, breeding kink, blood and violence, squirting, overstimulation, forced orgasm, dacryphilia, crying, dumbification, vaginal fingering, unconscious sex, fainting/collapsing, forced pregnancy, cum eating, cum swallowing, blood licking, sexism, age gap (older men/younger woman), marriage of convenience, ambiguous/open ending, implied/referenced cheating, face slapping, hair-pulling, sadism, revenge sex, threats of death, emotional manipulation, book accurate ages (It's 133 AC. Reader's 19, Aemond's 23, Aegon's 26, Jacaerys' 19, Lucerys' 18, Joffrey's 16), referenced Targaryen-Velaryon Incest (sister/brothers), referenced consensual underage sex, minor Velaryon brothers/reader, implied Aemond Targaryen/Helaena Targaryen, bisexual(?)!Aemond, bisexual(?)!Aegon, minor Aemond Targaryen/Aegon Targaryen, Aegond, dark content, dom!Aemond, switch!Aegon, sub!reader, canon divergence (No Dance of the Dragons/War for Succession), porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @dearjardim

— author's notes: It's MENTIONED during the fic that Aegon's obsession with the reader has been going on since before the night in Driftmark, 120 AC. So at that time, you would be 6 years old and Aegon would be 13/14. Although this is just a MENTION of Aegon's dark desires and isn't graphic at all, it's important that you understand about the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag and read all trigger warnings. This is just a FANFICTION, but Aegon's thoughts are disgusting anyway.

— crossposting: AO3

Aegon II Targaryen had been quite impulsive when choosing the woman he would marry. He knew that getting betrothed to his niece, Jacaerys's twin sister, would not be an idea well received by his family, especially by his mother and his younger brother, Aemond, but he decided to act on that decision without thinking too much about the possible consequences.

His obsession with you, the only daughter of his half-sister, Rhaenyra, was almost unhealthy. Aegon has watched you grow, just as he has watched Jacaerys and Lucerys grow. He liked to see you trying to keep up with them when the three boys got together to play some trick on Aemond. They never let you spend much time with them, and Aegon even made fun of you, just like he did with Aemond.

At that time, Aegon did not know how to deal with the intense feelings he felt about you, finding it disgusting that he was much older than you. Gods, you were younger even than Aemond. He really could not deal with those thoughts, and venting about them to someone would be a bad idea. He would probably get a beating from Harwin Strong — the man all people of King's Landing knew was your true father — when the knight was still alive.

Trying to keep you far away, Aegon chose making you a butt of jokes. Jacaerys and Lucerys never seemed to notice how Aegon really felt about their sister and even liked to have fun at your expense.

As the years passed, the family had grown apart. The fight involving Aemond against Lucerys, Jacaerys and Daemon's daughters parted the Targaryen family into two sides. Despite always being a terrible older brother, Aegon had tried to make it up to Aemond after he lost his eye. He did not like to admit that he blamed himself a little for what happened. However, the thought occurred to him with a damn frequency. If Aegon had not been drinking like an asshole that night, perhaps he could have defended his brother.

He wanted to be a better brother to Aemond, he really tried to be, but nothing seemed to be enough for the younger prince. Nothing seemed to make him happy. Not even when Aegon took Aemond, who was still ten and three years old, to a brothel and introduced him to Madam Sylvi. Aegon thought his brother would like to become a complete man and he would like to get his cock wet. But he was definitely wrong.

He could remember with anguish how Aemond opened the curtains and walked out into the halls of the brothel after the act. Aegon tried to ask him how the sex had been, if he had liked it... But all Aemond did was give him a cold and hurt look, replacing his eye patch and continuing to walk so both of them could leave soon.

When Aegon returned to the brothel the next week, he asked Madam Sylvi about Aemond performance and expected a naughty response from the whore. Anyway, hearing the phrase "He is not a child now" clearly did not sound as sensual as he imagined. He needed to drink a little more to avoid wanting to cry when he realized that in fact Aemond was no longer a child. He had taken that away from his brother when he convinced the younger to joined him to Street of Silk. Even after so many pranks, until that fateful day in Driftmark, Aemond still trusted his older brother. He was still an innocent child, with just one eye and his fierce Dragon.

And Aegon had destroyed the last vestige of innocence inside Aemond's heart. Aegon had ruined everything again, just as he had ruined everything every time he played tricks on you with your brothers and called you a fucking bastard the night Lucerys accidentally took out Aemond's eye during the childish and violent fight. You were not even there when all of that happened, but Aegon thought offending you would be like making up to Aemond for his absence and lack of protection.

Now, 133 AC, thirteen years after the family chaos in Driftmark, Aegon was trying to slowly restore some peace by proposing to his half-sister, Queen Rhaenyra, a betrothal to you. It was a way of seeking a truce between the grudge that Rhaenyra and Daemon held for Alicent and her children. And most important of all, it was a way to make amends with you and Aemond, even if his brother hated you.

"What do you think about your new necklace, my dear?" Aegon asked you after the festival in King's Landing to celebrate your and your twin brother Jacaerys' nineteenth year of life.

"It is very beautiful, uncle." You replied with a tense voice, observing yourself in the large mirror with golden edges in Aegon's private chambers.

You were not someone who liked breaking the rules, especially when they involved secret meetings with your uncle Aegon. You still harbored resentment for the way he started to mock your and your brothers' legitimacy after Rhaenyra and Alicent's complete estrangement. At first, you thought about denying his call for you to accompany him through the castle corridors, but the idea of receiving one more gift seemed tempting. And in fact, you did not regret. Actually, you were enchanted by the necklace with the pendant of a golden dragon with silver-toned wings.

"Do not call me uncle anymore, my dear. You are my future wife now." Aegon reminded you with a chuckle, standing behind you and watching as you admired the pendant. He could see the way you seemed to want to ask something and he knew exactly what it was. "Yeah, the dragon on the pendant was made especially to represent Vermithor."

He said and your eyes widened immediately. Just like Rhaena and Aemond, there was no dragon for you when you were born. You only managed to claim Vermithor four years ago, however, your bond with the elder dragon was already quite admirable. Vermithor was a fierce creature to everyone and he was like a puppy to you, so meek and docile that sometimes you found yourself venting alone to him. A habit that only increased even more after your mother confirming your betrothal with your uncle.

"This is... This is... This is incredible." Your eyes filling with tears. You lifted your face to observe Aegon's reflection behind you, his soft smile as he returned your gaze. "My most sincere thanks, Aegon. This is the kindest and sweetest gift I have ever received. I swear."

Aegon's cheeks flushed a little. He was not used to being kine or sweet. Much less listen someone calling him like that. Your thanks slightly caught him off guard and he cleared his throat, trying to hide his sudden nervousness, hoping you would not notice how sweaty and shaky his hands were when he placed them on your shoulders, a little taller than you while you were still watching each other in the mirror. "You look so fucking delightful right now."

He purred into your earlobe. The warm air and the smell of wine made you frown and step back. You were not used to being touched like this by men who were not your brothers and you did not feel comfortable with Aegon's sudden physical proximity. Of course he was your fiance and very soon you would be forced to consummate the marriage, but there were still many barriers between the two of you. Barriers he built to keep you away when you were a child and now he was determined to break them at any cost.

"Do not do that again." Aegon scolded you, fire coursing through his veins at your abrupt departure. He hated that you were acting like you were disgusted by him. Damn, he was trying to be good, was not he? He was being a good betrothed and redeeming himself with you. "I gave you a fucking gift you loved!"

You flinched at his loud husky voice, stopping just looking at him in the mirror and turning to him, the size difference not being as intimidating as it was when you were still a little girl seeking approval from your uncle and your brothers. He did not even have the same long hair as before. Now, Aegon kept his dry silver hair to a medium length, giving him an appearance of lack of care, as well as the intense dark circles under his eyes. Even though you would never admit it, you feared him but also you thought he was very handsome at the same time. Like your child version also thought these same things about Aegon when he was a teenager.

"And I already thanked you for it. However, I do not remember allowing you to touch me the way you just did."

"Seven Hells, do not be an annoying prude! I just rested my hands on your shoulder."

"And purred in my ear like a cat in heat, surely thinking I would give in to you so easily and we would sleep together before our wedding ceremony!" You exclaimed, without thinking straight. Your heartbeat was racing, your face red with anger that he had the audacity to call you an annoying prude.

Aegon growled at your words, moving closer to your body, until your faces were practically glued together and you could smell the wine he had been drinking throughout the festival, just as he could smell flowers fragrance coming from you. The tension was palpable, both of you staring at each other with anger in your eyes. It was like flames burning each other just with gazes.

You thought he would yell at you or at most throw you out of his chambers and take the gift back. You expected many things, except Aegon to abruptly cover your mouth, holding the back of your head with his other hand to stop you from struggling and running away.

"Perhaps, you bastard bitch, I am acting like a cat in heat because I know what a cheap whore you are." Aegon growled one more time, the fingers that had been holding the back of your neck now gripping your hair. "You always act like you are a maiden, but all people of King's Landing is already suspicious about how your cunt has already been filled several times by your twin brother. Jacaerys seemed quite furious when my betrothal with you was made official."

Aegon pushed you onto his large bed and you immediately tried to get up and scream, being stopped by the hard slap he gave you in the face, making you fall back onto his sheets, terrified as he climbed on top of you, holding both of your arms on top of your head. "If you try to do that fucking shit again, I am going to rip your fucking head off and gut you until you die. Our entire family is going to go to war and blood is going to be spilled because you are still the same spoiled bastard who cried and wanted to fit in with me when we were younger."

Something made you stop fighting against the situation. Perhaps it was your childhood memories of seeking approval from Aegon, Jace and Luke. Perhaps it was the threat of more chaos happening in your family if Aegon killed you. Perhaps it was all the alcohol you happily drank during your and Jace's name day celebration. Perhaps it was because you already knew that Aegon would rape you anyway if he was determined to do so. Perhaps it was all of that. You simply stopped, sobbing a few times before shaking your head.

"Good girl..." Aegon chuckled at your submissive reaction. "Just look at the ceiling, alright? I promise it will be good."

You did not know what Aegon meant, only understanding when you obeyed. Looking up at the ceiling, you saw that there was a large mirror placed there. You could watch yourself lying in bed, your face soaked with tears, your hair disheveled and your hands being held above your head. You had never been so shocked due a reflection. It was a clear sample of Aegon's obsession, firm fingers holding your wrists in the way he wanted, while his other hand simply hiked up your nightgown, taking advantage of your lack of reaction to take off and throw your underwear on the floor. Aegon was about to take off the tunic he was wearing, before being interrupted by the door opening and then closing.

"Am I interrupting something, brother? One of your guards said you demanded my presence here. I was busy and could not arrive at the ordered time." Aemond's cold voice echoed through Aegon's chambers and your eyes widened. You looked away from your reflection for a while, barely feeling Aegon fingering your slightly wet folds. You were incredulous at the fact that Aemond was so nonchalant with the sight of his older brother about to rape their niece. You could not tell if it was simply because Aegon often did atrocities like this or if it was also because Aemond had hated you since both of you were kids and he was not at all pleased with his brother's obsession with marrying you.

"Oh, busy with Helaena, I must assume." Aegon teased his brother and Aemond rolled his eyes, clearing his throat and pointing to the scene in front of him.

"May I know why my presence here is necessary?" The youngest asked and a moan escaped your lips when Aegon stuck two fingers inside you at once, drawing your attention back to him. Aegon raised his eyebrow as he noticed how, despite the painful and abrupt intrusion, your little cunt accepted his fingers without much difficulty, which meant not only that you were no longer a maiden, but that you had also fucked with someone recently and completely ignored your future marriage with your uncle.

"Looks like you were not the only person to fuck with your own sister today, brother."

Aemond could not help but smirk, tilting his head in mockery when he saw Aegon took his fingers out of you and shake your wetness away, almost as if he was disgusted. "Who would have thought that the rumors about her and Jacaerys were true..." The prince mocked, approaching the bed and making you flinched your body into the mattress. "Tell me, dear niece and sister-in-law... Which of your Strong brothers has already fucked your dirty and disgusting cunt? Only Jacaerys? Or also Lucerys and Joffrey?"

You whimpered at the invasive and demeaning question, knowing you would be in danger if you revealed the true, but you would also be in danger if you lied. "Not Joffrey yet."

It was Aegon's turn to mock, with some irritation. "Joffrey's small cock has not gotten wet inside you yet, but I bet you at least taught him how to eat you out. After all, he is already ten and six. That is old enough." The stare Aegon received from Aemond made him swallow hard. It was clear that his younger brother still felt angry about what happened at the brothel when he was thirteen. "Well, I mean..."

Aemond ignored his brother's attempt to justify himself and looked back at you, his cold hand touching your warm core, enjoying your wetness and rubbing your pearl, eliciting confused and tearful moans, your mind trying to encourage you to scream and run far away of them and your body begging him to keep rubbing your clit. Perhaps a little stronger. Stronger enough to draw your blood. Jace, Luke and Joffrey were always too sweet to you. Too noble. "That does not matter. What matters is that you are nothing more than a hole for your brothers to use."

You swallowed hard, closing your eyes and letting the tears flow. When you turned your face away, Aemond's hand grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to pay attention to what he was saying. "Now I understand why my brother was obsessed with you when we were younger. You were always a cockslut, I bet."

His words sinked your heart and you shook your head, so fast that your vision even blurred. You wanted to deny it, say that you were nothing like that, say that Aegon had never been really obsessed with you. But nothing came out of your lips. Actually, your panicked mind was starting to make you believe that Aemond could be right about both things.

"Uhm, I still remember everything before that night in Driftmark... How you were always running after Aegon and your brothers, desperate to be seen... Just like how my brother was always pushing you away." He scoffed, gripping your chin tighter. "Probably because he felt sick about himself thinking those naughty things about you. After all, you were only six years old and he was almost ten and four. A drunk teenager wishing for such perverse things and—"

Aegon grimaced as Aemond spoke, clearly uncomfortable about having his dirty little secret exposed right in front of you. "That is enough, Aemond." The older man softly growled and Aemond frowned and let go of your chin abruptly, his thin lips pulled into a sarcastic smile.

"You still have not told me why you demanded my presence here, brother." The last word sounded bitter to the ears of the three of you and Aegon took a deep breath, determined to take control of the situation again. Or at least a little part of the control.

He pointed to you, lying on the bed with the legs open, your cunt now wetter and your face reddened from crying, the empty look in your eyes making it obvious how confused and vulnerable you were. The confused and vulnerable state that your own uncle and future husband had left you simply because you refused his touch.

Aemond did not seem at all bothered by what he was seeing. You did not notice any trace of desire coming from him either and if it were not for the way a slight bulge began to appear in his pants, you would even believe that the scorn and resentment he always felt for you was bigger than the anger and desire to get revenge on Jacaerys and Lucerys.

"Are you offering me our niece?"

The question was said without a hint of enthusiasm and Aegon laughed, knowing his brother well enough to know that he just wanted to maintain the typical facade of indifference. "Well... I wanted to give you and my betrothed a gift. I was going to suggest that the three of us have some fun tonight to celebrate her name day..." Aegon purred, his calloused fingers caressing your bare thigh. "However, due to her spoiled and thankless behavior, I wish you to take her first."

Aemond was surprised at first, his good eye switching between you and his brother. He had already imagined several possibilities to get revenge for the things his nephews did when they were all kids. He had even thought that your betrothal to Aegon was already a good form of revenge, despite hating his brother even more when he realized that he had never gotten over that ridiculous obsession with you.

Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey had been furious when they discovered that their mother had agreed to let Aegon marry you. They were scared of what would happen to you, neither of them ever believing Aegon's stupid explanation about a peace treaty.

Aemond knew that his nephews would be furious if they knew what he was about to do with you, just as he knew what Aegon wanted. Aemond was not dumb, he understood that Aegon blamed himself for the tragic events in his life. Aemond understood that Aegon blamed himself for taking away his chance to lose his virginity willingly and with someone he was really attracted to.

And then, Aegon was there, giving you to him like an apology. Also, he was giving Aemond the chance to take revenge on his nephews and take you before himself.

Aemond did not respond with words. Instead, he just pushed Aegon aside, taking his brother's place on the bed and starting to undo the ties of the tunic he was wearing.

With each brutal thrust from Aemond, a tearful scream from you resounded throughout the chambers, muffled by Aegon's large hand, who was sitting next to you, caressing your dark hair with his free fingers.

All of the three of you was admiring different points of the view reflected by the mirror on the ceiling. Aegon was focused on the sight of your little cunt, so tight and being brutally fucked by Aemond's thick and rosy cock. Aegon could hear the sudden noises caused each time Aemond's body hit yours hard, your wet core making it easier for your uncle and brother-in-law to fuck you rough and deep enough that the walls of your cunt began to feel so much sore.

Despite the blurred tear-filled vision, you stared at yourself in the reflection, your heart clenching with self-loathing as your muffled screams stopped being pleas for Aemond to stop hurting you and started becoming just loud whimpers about how you were cumming again. You had actually lost count of how many times you had cum around Aemond's cock. You had already lost count of how many times you had squirted and even lost consciousness for a few seconds.

You felt like you were about to die and all that kept you alive was Aegon's fingers stroking your hair like you were his precious doll and Aemond's seed filling you for the second time in the last hour. Aemond looked at his own reflection after cumming inside you, his Sapphire's eye shining in the mirror, as well as the sweaty skin of his chest. He felt powerful. He felt alive. And best of all, he finally felt the good but bitter taste of revenge.

You were almost sure that Aemond was determined to breed you. And you were almost sure that Aegon had allowed it, because even when his younger brother pulled his wet cock out of your sensitive and bruised hole, Aegon just waited for Aemond to start getting dressed to take his place, bending down in front of you and licking the mixture of blood and cum that dripped from your cunt, ignoring your tears and the forced submission coming from your trembling body.

"You are disgusting, Aegon." Aemond huffed after Aegon licked and sucked your clit until you were squirting on his face too, your weak whimpers making you look like a sad kitten. "You should stop. She will end up convulsing and dying if she cums again."

"Oh, but she wants to cum again. Do not you want that, my dear?" Aegon teased, rubbing your swollen reddened pearl. You shook your head, the confused movement seemed like a confirmation and a denial at the same time, which elicited a chuckle from your future husband. He turned to Aemond and pointed at you. "See? She is going to be a perfect wife. All it took was a cock and she is already completely stupid and brainless, like a real good wife should be."

"Uhm, I guess she is not a very strong girl." Aemond scoffed, the word Strong bringing you horrible memories and making you whimper and turn your face into the pillow, until you finally fell asleep while Aegon was still eating you out. "I am serious, brother. Let our whore niece sleep and get some rest." Aemond murmured a little impatiently, his eye scanning the Vermithor pendant of your new necklace and then to Aegon's lips, wet with your juices and creamy with the mess of your blood and Aemond's seed. "Just stop eating my seed. Your future wife will not get pregnant with my child if you keep being a greedy and needy slut, sucking out all my cum just for you."

Aegon's eyes widened, in disbelief at his brother's words, raising the head and being interrupted just as he was about to defend himself. "Besides, you are going to end up cumming in your own pants if you keep just watching everything and settling for scraps. Our niece's cunt is delightful, however, I will be waiting for you in my private chambers so you can continue apologizing to me, brother."

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[brawberryz]

⎯⎯ㅤ Digital Girl

Batfam Yan! × Scene! Reader

| Platonic |

Note / English is not my first language / M.list

A / N | I don't know much about scenecore so this is just a very superficial view, if there are any mistakes please correct me (|||´Д｀) !!

TW / Yandere behavior, obsession, violence, toxic relationships, manipulation

Headcanon | How would they react to a scenecore batsis?

Character | Dick Grayson | Jason Todd | Tim Drake | Damian Wayne | Bruce Wayne

⎯ Bruce Wayne ★

He'd be surprised the first time.

Don't take this the wrong way, it's just...well, he's pretty new to all of this.

He tries to be an understanding father, but I feel like he'd be the kind of father who'd say it's all a phase; he just hopes this phase of yours doesn't last too long.

He's not a strict father (well, maybe a little, or maybe too much), but he wants you to understand that it's best for you.

He wouldn't like you to wear too many bracelets or bangles on your arms because he's afraid your skin would get irritated or leave marks.

He'd never forgive himself if something happened to his baby.

If you tried to dye your hair, his hair would be a big no-no.

He'd only let you dye your hair if you begged him all week and told him to let him choose the color and let him dye your hair.

There wouldn't be any problems with your way of dressing, although it would depend on how colorful and extravagant your outfits are.

Most of your family tends to wear dull, muted colors. You could only occasionally see Dick in a brightly colored shirt, but most preferred duller or less flashy colors.

That way, you'd definitely draw a lot of attention with your outfits.

If you two ever go to a gala, he WON'T let you dress like that. Look, he doesn't judge you (even if he does).

But he thinks you should find another, less flashy "style." He loves you the way you are, but sometimes he wishes you were as obedient as other young people.

He's afraid that at some point you'll become rebellious and escape his complete control.

He should, no, he needs to control everything about your life.

Even your style of clothing. He just wants you to be a normal child.

He knows how cruel the world is to people as different as you.

He's just in some kind of midlife crisis, and your teenage "rebellion" isn't helping much.

He'll get over it eventually

⎯ Dick Grayson ♥︎

He'd be the one who best handled this.

I get the idea that Dick also went through some emo or alt phase, so he's pretty understanding about this.

Most of your accessories, like bracelets and makeup, were bought or made by Dick.

He likes to sneakily create bracelets with his initials on them so others know who you are.

Even though he pretended to be a cool brother, he's just as possessive as the others.

Just because he was "nice" to you doesn't mean he won't manipulate you.

He'd take any opportunity to be around you.

Oh! You want to dye your hair? Don't worry, your brother Dick conveniently has the color you wanted!

You can dye your hair like him and match with him! He's the kind of guy who's very obsessed with your tastes.

He wants to be the best brother to you, so don't be scared because he's too intense.

Also, I think he'd listen to hyperpop just for you. It's not his type of music, but he'd just listen to it to spend time with you.

He's not the best, but at least he tries, umm...

⎯ Jason Todd ♣︎

He doesn't really care.

He'd be like,

"Oh, you're scene? Cool."

One of the things he'd be least bothered by is your clothing style or appearance.

I mean, as long as you don't do anything stupid, he wouldn't mind.

Although I think he'd buy hair dye in all sorts of colors and literally turn your hair into a fucking rainbow, just to piss off Bruce because he knows you're not allowed to dye your hair without Bruce's permission.

He'd kill anyone who dares say anything negative about you or make fun of how you dress.

He wouldn't allow any bastard to talk bad about his sister.

He'd listen to hyperpop while reading or doing some activity like reading or kicking criminals' asses. I think it would be pretty funny.

He'd probably only listen to it because you asked him to, but I think eventually he'd start to like that style of music, but he'd never say it out loud

⎯ Tim Drake ◆

He'll pretend he doesn't care, but he really cares.

I could say he's one of the most obsessive people; he knows everything about you.

Maybe he knows you better than you know yourself; he has a folder full of your interests or possible interests in a private file on his computer.

He'll spend hours on the internet searching for information about it. If he wants to get close to you, he has to be smart.

He's like a predator.

He analyzes his prey and then attacks.

I think his approach would be subtle. It has to be smart and not too aggressive. He doesn't want to scare you into thinking he's some kind of creepy guy (if he is).

I think he would start slowly, with small comments about your appearance.

"Oh! You look pretty nice today!" or "That shirt really matches your outfit!"

Then, make comments about your interests, and he'd start getting closer and closer to you. He's not like the others.

If he wants to have you in his hands, he'll have to do it slowly and calmly. He's very good at hiding his true intentions.

I think he'd spend hours trying to find the best hair dye for you. He doesn't want your hair damaged because you decided to buy a poor-quality one.

Also, if you want to take a picture, don't worry! He'll be your personal photographer.

He takes the best photos on your blog. He's always taking pictures of you secretly. I'm pretty sure he knows all your good sides.

The only reason he's interested in all of this is because of you.

He'll do anything to be near you, even if it means changing all his interests to match yours.

⎯ Damian Wayne ♣︎

He thinks it's ridiculous.

He'd make pretty offensive comments saying you look like a clown or some kind of Joker Jr.

He'd be the worst when it comes to this; he doesn't know what's so interesting about dressing like a walking rainbow.

Be prepared for the mockery and passive-aggressive comments (though they're more aggressive than passive).

Even if he'd eventually accept it, halfway.

Sure, he'd still think it's completely ridiculous and pathetic, but he'd only accept it because it's you (and deep down, he thinks some of your outfits are pretty cool).

But he still WON'T ALLOW anyone to make fun of the way you dress.

you still remember the time he got suspended for a week from school for hitting on a kid who said your way of dressing was stupid

He's the only one allowed to make fun of your ridiculous way of dressing.

Also, I think he'd be drawn to your bracelets and shoes, if you're the kind of people who wears those long shoes, I think he'd really like them.

He'd indirectly ask you to give him one of your bracelets because he thinks they're pretty. Maybe he'd give you some accessories like colorful belts or a hair accessory.

He'd really pay attention to your makeup; depending on how colorful or extravagant your makeup is, he'd like it.

He secretly listens to the music you recommend. No kidding, some of it is actually quite good, so he even put it on his playlist.

He's more or less supportive of all this. He's grateful that his jokes about your appearance have lessened.

Although he'll most likely continue to make jokes about your appearance when he gets bored of being a good person.

Hi, I'm back.

Sorry for not updating for so long. My health has been getting worse for weeks, and I've only recently recovered.

This is a late request, so I hope the anonymous person who requested this enjoys it.

I don't know when I'll update again because it's exam time and school is really giving me a hard time. Lolololol

[qierxing]

Head empty just yandere Heartslabyul as your imperial harem members

yan!poly!Heartslabyul x Reader

tw/cw: dub//con, gender-neutral reader but referred with masculine terms, drugging, manipulation, implied somnophilia, political machinations

—

you were raised with the expectation that you would shoulder the crown and rule over your people, justly and fairly. because of that, by the time you were crowned, your mindset compared to others your age was mature beyond what was considered normal.

you would be lying if you weren't bitter. Although you've long accepted that no one else could be trusted to rule this land and its people, you often wondered what your life would be like if there were no etiquette lessons and sword practices consuming your childhood.

In the end, it's all foolish dreams. You sit on your glittering golden throne and watch apathetically as the imperial court cheers and raises a toast to the new royal blood.

You were prepared for the responsibilities of a monarch, but what you weren't prepared for was your vassals' obnoxious nagging.

Your kingdom's tradition and laws have long allowed for polygamy, and your previous ancestors were known for their large harems. That day, you finally learned why: to ensure that royal blood would still be carried on, no matter what.

it's distasteful to you. you try to ignore your vassals all talking your ears off about potential consorts and lovers. but it's only so long before you crack.

Riddle Rosehearts was the first one to be by your side.

Not by choice. Duchess Rosehearts was the one who brought up her darling son to your vassals first, who then presented him to you. You would've turned them away, if not for the boy's eyes. Something in those stormy gray eyes makes your heart ache. His mother clutches her son's shoulder in a vice like grip that goes far beyond parental worry. Perhaps he too knows what it feels like to have no control over his life. 

And so reluctantly, you let him join you as a consort. 

It's not bad. Rather, he's so intelligent and diligent that you often ask him for help and advice on the kingdom's affairs, knowing that his strictness with himself and others provides a valuable impartial view that you can hardly find anywhere else. Besides, even if he is too stiff and formal at times, you appreciate his aid in paperwork that threatens to drown you.

in fact, he's so dedicated to carrying out his duty, that you find him nearly unrobed on your bed. Seven above, that nearly gave you heart palpitations. As attractive as he is, you have no intention of forcing the boy to give up his virginity against his will, even if he is married to you. 

you explain this to him as patiently as you can, even when his face scrunches up in hurt and confusion, asking if he wasn't enough–but you shut that down immediately. He is more than enough, and he isn't obligated to do anything he doesn't want to, even if his mother taught him otherwise. the revelation shakes his mind, causing his walls and views to crumble before him in the following days. you would like to think he became less stiff as he realized his true worth.

That is when an unexpected addition to your harem happened.

Actually, it was completely by accident. Your servants had often brought you various snacks and sweets during your work, as you were infamous for being extremely cranky without the motivation of good food. When Riddle, of all people, brings you a strawberry tart while you’re in the middle of some particularly grueling financial budget papers, it gives you pause.

It's not that you didn't trust him. It’s just…this is the boy who refused to eat more than the healthy amount of sugar. Even if you offered him various pastries and cookies, he always shunned them, saying it wouldn’t be right for him to consume them. 

So you spear a fork into the tart and bring it up to your mouth. When the bite meets your tongue, you swear your soul ascends to heaven. The taste is absolutely indescribable: the crust was flaky and light and the filling was sweet and creamy. This has got to be the best dessert you’ve ever tasted in your short life.

When you inquire Riddle about where he had gotten his hands on the tart, he shyly looks away from you and mumbles something under his breath. Not wanting to pressure him, you decide to let it go with a request to send your highest compliments to the patisserie. 

Since then, he is the one bringing you various treats, all unbelievably delicious tasting, each time you’re stuck among paperwork and meetings. You’re grateful, even if it does make you wonder who this mysterious patisserie is. You’re not particularly familiar with every kitchen staff member, but you would think that you would be aware of such talent residing in your walls. 

The truth finally comes to light when Riddle bursts into your office one day, in tears and hyperventilating, as he collapses in your arms. Alarmed, you quickly try to make sense of his babbling words. 

It turns out that the very patisserie wasn’t in your kitchens, as you thought. No, they were humble commoner folk who ran a modest bakery in the shopping district. Riddle had been secretly visiting the bakery whenever he had the time to buy their desserts and to visit his friend, the owner’s son. Problem is, his mother had found out and was furious that her son would debase himself and his reputation like that.

Trey Clover stands behind his parents with wide, frightened eyes as Duchess Rosehearts shrieks on about how she’ll shut down the establishment herself for daring to corrupt her son and so forth. It’s rather annoying that she would go this far in the name of parental love–thankfully she stops screaming once she catches sight of you. 

For once, you’re thankful for the absolute authority of imperial power. Duchess Rosehearts begrudgingly draws back when you block her attempt to defame the bakery. With a disappointed glare searing over the rest of you, she storms out of the bakery, door slamming shut behind her with a deafening crack.

You watch with mild interest as Riddle rushes forward and envelopes Trey in a tight hug that nearly knocks the tall man over. Despite the fact that Trey should be the one more distraught, he comforts Riddle with an ease that is almost suspiciously, dare you say, reminiscent of fondness. You look away before your thoughts dwell on it for too long.

Of course, it’s not all over. Trey’s parents kowtow at your feet with desperate gratitude, even if you beg them to stand up and raise their heads. As you glance over at Riddle in Trey’s arms, thoughts begin to arrange themselves into a proposal.

You and Riddle both know that Duchess Rosehearts would not stop here. Your presence was only a mere temporary hurdle in her plans to bring down Clover Patisserie, and there was no telling what she would do next. So, you propose something nearly unheard of to them.

Your vassals will throw an absolute fit if you openly sponsor their bakery and provide protection without something in exchange. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, but this is the only way that Trey and his family would be safe. 

Surprisingly, he accepts the proposal with grace, becoming the second consort of your harem that very day. 

He inquires if there’s anything he should be aware of for his duties, making you laugh raucously and Riddle blush to the roots of his strawberry hair. You wave him off, telling him he only needs to do the things he loves and to bring you more of those tarts that cured your stress during your work times. The smile he gives is radiant and you wonder how it is that Riddle managed to find someone who makes the sun pale in comparison.

The next day, Riddle tells you between paperwork that he gifted Trey his own kitchen to bake and cook, and you nod in approval. It’s too easy to tease him over his obvious favoritism toward the baker, and it only makes you want to bully him more when his face becomes tomato red.

The annual royal banquet comes up and it dawns on both you and Riddle that Trey will have to present himself to the feral noble masses who are itching to know who this new addition is. The three of you are thrown into a hurricane of preparations, not just for the banquet, but to prepare poor Trey, who has never attended such an elite event, for the troubles ahead.

It’s certainly not for naught, you think, as you rake your eyes over your consorts. Their beauty outshines everything, in your personal opinion. When you make the introductory speech, you’re well aware that the audience in front of you is not just dazzled by you, but rather the two handsome men dutifully hovering behind you.

You hope that Riddle is enough of a buffer when the nobles inevitably swarm them with excited and curious eyes. As much as you would like to help, you were stuck with your own battles of greeting various guests and entertaining those who were trying to butter you up.

The Diamond family catches your eye first. 

It wasn't something positive, per say. But it is quite hilarious as the Marquis introduces you to his family: his wife, his two elder daughters and his only heir and son–only to find the aforementioned son missing. He’s left stuttering in shame even if you don’t particularly mind. It would’ve just been another boring greeting, but at that moment, his eyes dilates in fear, and when you follow his gaze, you see why. 

Cater Diamond is currently flirting with Trey. And very openly, at that.

The sight should make you furious, and yet you nearly burst out laughing. How could there be anyone this daring? Surely the young man would know better than to try hitting on an imperial escort–if he was aware that is, of the man being one. 

You decide to be the merciful mediator, because Riddle is nearly about to blow a gasket by Trey’s side and Trey looks like he’s too flustered to appropriately reject the advances of the eldest Diamond son. 

“Lord Diamond, I do believe your father is looking for you.” His face is full of surprise at the image of you grinning at him in amusement when you gently break the awkward atmosphere. 

After he leaves in a hurry, your two consorts apologize profusely for letting the flirtations happen. You reassure them that it was fine, that whatever they liked to do was not meant to be dictated under your actions. However, their faces still remain guilty and dismayed, as though you had reprimanded them instead.

The encounter remains in your mind as an entertaining memory. So much so, that when your vassals pester you again on adding another member to your harem, your mind immediately goes to sparkling jade green eyes and vivid orange hair.

If anything it was on a whim. Of course, you consulted both Trey and Riddle before sending the invitation, and they both agreed, even if Riddle looked much grumpier than usual. You hardly believed that the proposal would be answered favorably; after all, you’ve learned from recent gossip that Cater Diamond was a rather well known playboy. You doubt that kind of man would enjoy being tied to an imperial harem, even if it was under your lax control.

Perhaps that is why it’s so surprising that when he finally is in front of you, he acquiesces to your proposal with no hesitation at all. You ask in disbelief if he was sure of his decision, and he affirms it with no distaste in his voice. He notes your incredulous face, giving a cheeky grin in response.

Apparently he's been wanting to separate himself from his family for a while. The reason for his scandalous affairs were only attempts at getting his family to send him away, but he never succeeded. He says that your proposition finally gave him the freedom to be away from his family. While you don't want to pry further, it confuses you on how the Diamond family managed to raise such an eccentric young man.

Regardless, he becomes the third member of your harem. There were some small tensions between him and Riddle, but thankfully they resolved rather quicker than you expected–it seems that although Cater acted rather laid back, he has skills in organization and networking that even Riddle had to begrudgingly acknowledge. Ask him on the most recent gossip on the nobles and he's sure to provide you a list alphabetized on the latest trends around the capitol. Besides, it seems him and Trey get along quite well—too well, in a way. You don’t think you’ve seen a pair more prone to exchanging sensual, fleeting touches. Well, that’s not your problem.

You pray that nothing more eventful comes up in the meantime. Trey could only supply you with so much cake and cookies before you simply keeled over from sugar intake.

It seems the Seven were not on your side.

The Knights' jousting tournament was something that slipped your mind. When it gets brought up on the agenda in a meeting you silently curse. In the racket of you ascending to the throne and tending to your harem, you had neglected a big aspect to your royal life.

Personal guards. Normally, you should've had personally assigned soldiers that would accompany you for protection, but you've kept putting it off since you were able to protect yourself just fine with your abilities. And hiring new people, for any reason, was always going to be a long chore of vetting, paperwork, and tests.

The worst part is that Riddle and Trey joined in on the nagging. Going on about how they worried for your safety as if you weren't already trained in self defense and swordplay since your childhood days. Cater just shrugs when you look at him desperately for help and winks while running off to who knows where. Traitor.

Whatever. The sooner you pick, the sooner they'll get off your back.

Somehow this year's tournament is rather disappointing. Your three consorts give commentary throughout the matches, but it cannot stop the boredom starting to overtake you. Trey discreetly offers you a cup of wine and you take it gratefully.

The announcer signals the start of a match, with Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade taking a stand against each other. You hear Riddle faintly murmuring to your side about how they look rather young to be in a tournament like this. But you're rather absorbed in their intense fight, to the point where Cater teases you, asking if your taste included younger men. you roll your eyes and tell him to be quiet.

The fight ends in a spine tingling draw. Both men have their swords knocked out of their hands, but they’re still glaring at each other with such raw passion, that it’s fascinating. You know you will hardly meet any others that could catch your attention.

The end of the tournament ends with the roar of the crowd shaking the colosseum and the boisterous victory announcement. The two of them weren’t finalists, but that matters little to you. The victor was impressive. But they weren’t what you wanted.

“Ace Trappola, at your service, your majesty.”

“Deuce Spade, at your command, your majesty!”

The two greet you with enthusiastic fervor that has you chuckling in amusement. They are just the breath of fresh air you need. 

“Starting from today, you two will be my personal guards.”

They’re left with gaping mouths at your bold statement. Your consorts, too, are sputtering at your side. Riddle is already trying to convince you to reconsider. Trey is gently trying to ask if you’re really sure about this. Even Cater, for all his light-hearted banter, chokes an incredulous scoff, covering his mouth with a fist.

Yes, there’s always the threat of treason, and they might be slackers, but if you were going to have to employ someone, you’d rather it be someone entertaining. 

Regardless, the two are knighted and become your guards in record time. 

For several days, a persistent headache haunts you with how much Ace loved riling up Riddle for no reason, or Deuce somehow managing to blunder his way into destroying several pieces of priceless antique furniture. It takes only two days for Riddle to kneel at your side, begging you to please just switch guards, these two were ridiculously incompetent and not worthy to serve under you, but you only pat his head and send him off back to his chambers to rest. 

Trey and Cater were arguably more agreeable, but you don’t miss their tired looks whenever they had to clean up after Ace pissing off a passing noble or Deuce somehow causing a fire when tripping over an iron poker. It makes you feel guilty, of course, but you still cling on. Call it stubbornness but you didn’t want to let go of the two. It was selfish, you know, and monarchs could never afford to be selfish, but was it so wrong for you to indulge in the only pair who seemed to disregard your status?

The answer came one hot summer evening, when you’re on your balcony trying to unwind. Tonight was the usual designated night to share a bed with your consorts, but you deigned to postpone it since you weren’t in the mood nor did you want to force the other three to deal with your sour attitude. It’s halfway through your third glass of wine that you were a rustle, then after starting your fourth, you hear footsteps, to which you turn and just narrowly miss a dagger aiming for your heart. The blade instead rips a gash through your left shoulder, causing you to grunt in pain, alcohol thankfully dulling most of the throbbing sensations. Unfortunately, your mind is hardly clear enough to have a steady stance to fight back properly, let alone see the assassin’s face. 

You can’t believe you were going to die pathetically like this. If this was going to happen anyway, you should’ve at least finished your glass of wine—

Shouts, then sounds of clanging steel, and a blur rushed into your sight, tackling the hooded assassin and knocking him down. Deuce’s familiar blue hair registers in your blurry vision, holding down the assassin, while Ace’s flaming hair and eyes come closer in view, shouting something that keeps fizzling out to nothing. Your world tilts to its side suddenly, a loud buzzing in your ears, and everything goes black.

When you come to, you find Riddle with swollen, tear-crusted eyes hugging your bedsheets, while Trey exhaustedly sits behind him next to a wash basin and several empty vials. Cater was out cold on the chaise beside him, several papers littering his body. It seems that the assassin was quite thorough, as they made sure that if their sharp blade didn’t manage to end your life, then the quick acting poison laced upon the steel would. Ironically, according to the herbalist and doctor, because you drank a whole wine bottle, the alcohol managed to slow it down somehow just long enough for you to get treatment. A miracle, indeed.

For once, the room is no longer filled with tension with all five of the men together, but a genuine sense of relief. You give the two of your knights soft smiles and a sincere thank you which makes their faces flush like a ripe strawberry. Your escorts don’t protest, mirroring the same gratefulness in their faces. 

Something changes after that night. 

Of course, you’re extremely glad that Riddle is no longer blowing his top off after Ace goads him about being a stick in the mud, but since when did Ace get into pet names with Riddle? Rosebud? The nickname makes you gag internally at how corny it is. Not to mention that Riddle…doesn’t mind being called that?! You watch in disbelief as he preens at the compliment from your knight, trying not to give away your incredulousness. 

Okay…whatever, at least they’re getting along? 

Deuce shows up with your slice of cake with a beaming glow that has you taken aback as you accept the offering. Ace mutters about how Trey must’ve spoiled him again behind you and it takes everything inside you to not spit out your cake mid-bite. Again? Trey was kind, you’ll give him that, and he did tend to baby Riddle and you but—

On second thought, perhaps this wasn’t out of left field.

Cater titters knowingly when you slump in bonelessly into the lounge next to him trying on new earrings and bangles. 

“And what ails my dearly beloved king?” You choke on your spit before glaring at him. He giggles, dangly silver drops chiming in tune with the laughter. 

“Not you too…” It felt like the whole day you felt like you were background to some of the most insufferable flirting, and with your escorts and knights, no less. You raise an eyebrow at the shiny, glittering jewelry scattered on the vanity in front of the man. All imperial escorts did have an allowance, but you don’t remember Cater buying anything like this nor gifting him such things. When you inquire about it, Cater gives you a smirk and a wink.

”Rido and the younger ones have been quite sweet lately.” The sentence makes you nearly fall off the lounge. He chortles and blows you a mock kiss with no shame as you sear him with another heated glare. 

The way they started interacting starts making you feel self-conscious and…embarrassingly enough, left out. Which is such a foolish thought. Of course, who would in their right mind love the person who tied their lives to them, romantically and sexually? And even though they were in such a situation, the fact they all loved each other was a blessing, wasn’t it? How many history lessons did you have where the monarch’s harem wasn’t full of in-fighting? That meant more prosperity and stability political wise, and there wouldn’t be any trouble between you…

Yet, your heart clenches at the thought of Trey’s smile directed at Cater, of Riddle gently caressing Deuce’s head, and Ace slinging an arm around Deuce…none of that affection could ever be for you. 

And it’s best that way. Your father’s voice echoes distantly in your mind. You watched him solemnly on his deathbed as he implored you to not make the same mistakes he did, before his breathing stilled, and his hand lay limp in yours.

Yes, perhaps it was better this way. 

Still, your thoughts are still wandering that you barely jolt back to present to a cabinet meeting looking expectantly at you. 

“Pardon, could you repeat that?”

Riddle watches in worry as a dark shadow crosses your face as the demand for your harem to grow is conveyed. He coughs, causing the members to turn to him instead.

”If that’s the case,” he states with no hesitation, “then I might have some candidates in mind.”

You turn to him with the same expression as the other cabinet members. It drops to shock at Riddle’s suggestion.

As much as you wanted to oppose it, there wasn’t really a good reason to. You sat with your arms crossed as Riddle explained the proposal to your very two personal knights. Ace and Deuce exchange looks, and something between them is communicated before they turn to you and accept, despite your hope they wouldn’t.

And so, your harem became five.

You put your foot down after that. It was already enough to have your heart cracked into pieces with the knowledge you could never have their love. You don’t think it could handle another.

So you tuck your heart away as you smile with them over dinner, bantering over whether flamingos can play croquet or dancing with them at various balls, heart racing as the chandelier lit their face with a warmth you’ve never seen before. If it means you won’t get hurt or distracted, then that’s all you could ask for.

One fateful day, a letter out of numerous piles is hand delivered by Cater and changes your entire world.

It’s sealed with the crest of the fairest queen in the seven realms, meaning only one person could have sent this—Vil Schoenheit. Inside the elegant letter details a marriage proposal that listed all the benefits of taking him as a spouse. With all the pros listed out so cleanly, it was clear that the queen already knew that you couldn’t reject it so quickly.

But you must dissolve your harem. I do not take kindly to those who are not loyal to me and me only.

Something in your heart cracks at reading the condition. You should feel elated, somewhat, that you no longer had to drag around escorts for formality. And for the others, it meant being freed from a duty they were all forced into. But tears threaten to bubble over your eyelashes, and when Riddle asks you if you’re alright, one manages to overflow and trail down your cheek like a traitorous banner. 

You don’t want to let them go.

Trey asks for the nth time if you’re sure you don’t want him to be with you or if you want some tea before you shoo him away. Ace and Deuce were meant to guard your chambers, but you wave them off too, saying you’ll find stand-ins for their places. Riddle and Cater were harder to shake off, but even they, too, were finally shut out when you closed your bedroom doors in their worried faces.

In the end, like a coward, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell them what that letter was, despite them asking nonstop about it. You’re not sure what to tell them either—that they were being discarded of their positions, no longer needed, but it wasn’t out of maliciousness—oh, who would even believe you?

When Vil graces your halls, the looks your escorts give you is enough to fill you with burning hot shame. 

Cater doesn’t have his usual mischievous smile when he greets the queen, his emerald eyes sharpening to pin pricks whenever Vil speaks. You should’ve scolded him, reigned him back, but the guilt eating away at you made you hesitate. It didn’t help that Riddle, for all his perfect etiquette, suddenly seemed to forget what formalities and niceties were around the queen. The regal queen gives you a strange look as Trey sets down a plate of pastries a little too hard in front of him. Your gaze darts away as you sip the tea in front of you nervously, flanked by Ace and Deuce, their scowling faces too apparent.

They’re not dumb. Royals don’t visit other realms willy-nilly often. And it’s clear what Vil is here for.

The next day leaves you lethargic and sluggish, but you try to pull through, if only for appearances. While you stroll through the gardens with Vil, you try to avoid the burning stares of your guards behind you, no doubt dissecting each and every bit of your conversation with the queen. They pull you away as soon as the clock hits the afternoon hour, stating you had duties to attend to and so on and so forth. You excuse yourself and hope you don’t look like a mess to Vil, whose appearance is still immaculate despite the heavy winds and hot sun.

You try to focus on the stack of papers in front of you, despite the edges of your vision blurring and your head spinning. Taking the last sip of what remained of your tea, you squint uselessly at the words as Riddle murmurs something to your right about dinner and farewell banquets. The last thing you remember is the smell of chamomile and poppy flowers and the last document regarding international treaties. 

By the time you wake up from your ill-timed nap, it was midnight and it had been decided that you were too unwell to properly receive the fairest queen, and thus Vil would be sent back, to come back another time. Cater explains with a tight smile while Riddle nods along. Behind them, Trey pours another cup of warm milk and offers it to you with a sympathetic smile. You take it, despite the guilt threatening to swallow you alive. 

The days following are a haze of routines that you thought you once knew but couldn’t process. Nothing had changed, right? It seemed like you couldn’t recall what Trey made for you for yesterday’s tea, nor whenever Cater asked you for an opinion on his outfit. Before, you remembered the guards’ shifts to the letter, and yet, you completely forgot when Ace took over to guard you. Riddle smiles at you like usual, helping you with paperwork as usual, and yet…why couldn’t you remember what you had signed yourself?

Some nights you wake up to Trey or Cater, running their hands over you, despite the fact that they weren’t there before when you went to bed. Sometimes, it would be Ace and Deuce, bickering in hushed whispers before they shut up seeing you awake. And every time morning came and soreness set in your body, Riddle would greet your groggy face warmly, wiping away sweat and a strange stickiness that clung to your skin. 

The thought of marriage is erased from your mind, and slowly, but surely, you can’t remember why you thought of breaking apart the men who treated you so fondly. 

Perhaps you should have heeded the tales of those who ended up being puppet kings.

[maetersart]

A couple of ppl asked us about Astarion and Marrow's relationship, so here is some text to the last illustration with them. Or.. more precisely about the best part of it. For them

So... they're like two cats. Two gremlins. A beautiful elf and a bedside monster. The chemistry between them is passionate, chaotic and in many ways weird, and it's hard to call their relationship any kind of healthy thing — they're both traumatized and not perfect people. They argue, they fight, and then BAM!, they are in love again. They are freaks with questionable morals and views on life that unexpectedly resonate with each other, although everyone else thinks they're the normal ones here. Marrow absolutely accepts the vampire nature and pesonality of Astarion, and he calmly understands her durge side and wildness. Another murder, another body, another nightmare — it's okay, as long as he's not involved. And it can even be used. And Marrow uses him too

This leads to a deeper bond — they’re monsters who share a deep mutual passion and the ability to see humanity in each other, even when it seems there is nothing human left. And monsters don't always mean something bad, it's just their love is a bit, well, twisted: their relationship isn't about typical romance stuff, but filled with almost animal adoration and desire. Kind of a dark magnetism that would freak out (and for good reason) the average people. But here's the thing, they're totally okay with that. Neither Marrow nor Astarion are about to change themselves or pretend to be these so-called "normal people" — they're not relearning how to love the "right" way, they're learning to love in their own style

And of course none of them planned to really love each other. And no one thought about "true love". True love is hard stuff when one is a vampire ex-slave and the other — a Bhaal's daughter and a murderer. It all started with manipulation: Astarion was looking for someone who would save him from Cazador, while Marrow wanted someone to save her from herself (or should we say she didn't dare admitted it openly, but needed). Then something happened and they fell in love because they finally found someone who accepted them just as they are. Because the scars on their lives are so similar. And because baby, let's live in darkness and sin together because that's what we want, not because someone told us to

[married-to-google-translater]

what would it be like if yandere Sebastian, Claude, and Ciel found out that s/o have a contract with a demon?

Yandere Sebastian Michaelis

Sebastian would hate this.

From the bottom of his heart.

He couldn't stand another demon around you.

However, you are his partner.

Although you might not know it.

And another demon near you would be a threat.

Especially if the Demon was anything like Claude.

Sebastian wouldn't show his disgust when you're around.

But between the two of them, he has no reason to show his true feelings.

Sebastian would try to manipulate you.

To see him in a better light.

And to wish you had a contract with him.

Sebastian would try to do almost every task faster and better.

And he would certainly succeed.

Sebastian would also try to be between you as much as possible.

Kidnapping would certainly not be easy.

This would also be one thing that would annoy him.

But he would try to make it work.

For love.

The love he feels for you…

There is no certainty about your feelings.

Yandere Claude Faustus

Claude would hate this.

He would REALLY hate this.

Your soul would be the reason why he would fall in love with you in the first place.

That would be so special.

And he really would like have that.

But the knowledge that it would belong to someone else.

Wouldn't make him happy.

Especially after he fell in love with you and not just your soul.

Of course, Claude wouldn't show his feelings for you.

He would be good at hiding them.

But he will do anything to break the deal with you and your demon.

Claude wouldn't care if it was possible or not.

He would find a way.

He would have to.

However, Claude would slowly start to show his feelings.

Would definitely try to replace your demon.

And manipulate you really subtly.

Claude would really know what could happen if the deal is done poorly.

This really wouldn't suit him.

You should stay safe.

Yandere Ciel Phantomhive (older)

Ciel would be surprisingly relieved by this.

Does he like having someone with you almost all the time?

Not really.

Does he like it to be really hard to hurt you?

Absolutely.

Because Ciel has a lot of enemies.

And he wouldn't want any of them to hurt you.

Ciel would have lost enough people in his life already.

He would be interested in how you and your demon made the deal.

Of course, he doesn't care if it's a sensitive thing.

But if you want to talk he listens.

Would definitely take revenge on people who wronged you.

This isn't even a question.

Ciel doesn't really like your demon.

And he would try to avoid this whenever possible.

Ciel might also sabotage the success of your mission.

So that he can spend more time with you.

An abduction would probably also not happen.

Too bad.

But manipulation is way :D

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: HOTD

Character: Daemon Targaryen

Pairing: Platonic

Type of fic: Concept

Extra info: Daemon sees fem!Reader as a daughter, even if she's not his own child. (Whether she's Alicent's daughter or Rhaenyra's daughter is up to you)

-🥝 anon

OOO! DAD DAEMON? Let me try my best at this. Hope this wasn't too OOC?

Yandere! Platonic! Daemon Targaryen with Daughter! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Overprotective behavior, Murder, Blood, Mild gore/Grotesque descriptions, Isolation, Spying, Dubious companionship.

If Daemon was your biological father, you'd have to be a bastard he had with another woman who he then took in as his daughter.

Regardless... Daemon seems like an intimidating father?

Of course he's going to be fiercely protective and most likely never hurt his daughter, yet he may sometimes scare you.

He's a man of action, ambition, and murder.

So... by the sound of that... he isn't the most traditional father.

By Targaryen standards, that probably sounds about right though.

I don't think Daemon is very nurturing either as he isn't around his other daughters most of the time.

He's off doing his own thing, most likely wooing ladies or looking for more combat.

Yet when it comes to you, he's... oddly attentive?

Most of the time you are with Rhaenyra.

Especially if he takes you in as his own near when the family falls apart after his brother's death.

Daemon's treatment of you would be unfair.

Which would be even stranger if you were a bastard he sired at one point in time.

He's not known to see his children often.

He still does since he cares for them, but it's like he isn't sure how to be... there for them?

Even with you, who's seemingly his favorite for one reason or another, he seems unsure how to approach you at times.

He may also just be bad with daughters.

After all, you aren't meant to get yourself covered in blood like he is.

You're a Targaryen, perhaps even one with a dragon of your own, yet Daemon is the one who primarily fights for you.

Daemon doesn't care what others think about him when it comes to you.

You're his daughter, he recognizes that.

It's just strange to many that he actually seems to try and be caring to you.

He'll have you meet his daughters, he'll allow you around Rhaenyra's boys.

While many would think he'd be absent...

For some reason he isn't with you?

It's not quite coddling... He's just more involved than he is with the others.

He oversees your dragon riding, he often turns down betrothals proposed to you...

He's protective and caring in his own way.

It even gets a bit... overwhelming for you.

When he does leave to go attend other duties, it's like he always knows what you're doing.

Knowing Daemon, wouldn't surprise me if he hired someone to keep tabs on you.

If he can't be there, he'll find other ways to know what you're doing.

Daemon wouldn't really go out of his way to teach his darling to fight.

Although you'd most likely learn at some point due to the fact you're around children who know how to.

He doesn't really want you fighting, but accepts you at least learning how.

He's not the most affectionate father, his brother was probably better at that for the most part (Stretching it)...

But he's certainly protective.

Daemon would not accept you being bad mouthed.

The people may whisper about you, they always do when it comes to Targaryens.

Yet if Daemon ever catches them?

He'll cut out their tongue and make things bloody.

He's known for being a ruthless warrior.

Many fear him for that and that's why many avoided him being king.

You know your father is this way.

But while he may argue with Rhaenyra or get into physical altercations with others...

He's strangely gentle with you.

He loves you, he really does.

Most of the time he shows if by protecting your honor... in the most brutal way possible.

Sometimes, however... He enjoys holding his beloved daughter, just to feel a bit more grounded.

Especially when he's at Harrenhal, he most likely wishes to take you with him...

All those nightmares are going to break him, know that?

Daemon is no traditional father, yet overprotective fits him.

As time goes on he may go from mostly absent to involved.

He loves your smile and can't believe how pretty you've become.

That also means he isn't going to betroth you to just anyone.

Oftentimes when lords ask to marry you to their sons for negotiations and politics, Daemon turns hostile and dismissive.

"Leave her out of this, she will not be some broodmare for your son."

Does this lose some political connections or causes tension? Sometimes.

Daemon doesn't care, he's always been a selfish man.

His daughter isn't going to have such a fate.

You'll stay beside him, under his protection, for as long as he can pull it off.

If he finds someone for you, then he will approve of any marriages.

Most of the time when others bring it up he just wants to feed them to Caraxes.

Having a daughter during this time period is meant to be a way to get heirs, yes.

But Daemon cares more about your protection than that.

Daemon could be considered manipulative for making his daughter only trust him...

Again, he doesn't care.

Yandere! Daemon as a father is overprotective no matter the cost.

While not the most affectionate, he keeps an eye on his daughter.

Even when he's not around, you know Daemon has you in mind.

How could you not when you hear news of him slaughtering some other poor fool for bringing you up?

Some may call him overprotective, but to Daemon...

This is his form of love...

He doesn't plan to let you go until he approves of it... If he ever will.

[orionhelluvaranting]

Brutal honesty vs Soft hypocrisy

Why they could never make me hate Stella:

Why they could never make me like Stolass:

In fact, I never had a problem with the characters who are assholes while the narrative treats them like the ones, without attempts to justify or whitewash. Bad guys exist for a reason, they play an important part in the plot.

But I can't stand the characters who are assholes while they're totally woobified, portrayed as misunderstood heroes / perfect victims, and their misdeeds are constantly downplayed / ignored by narrative.

This is the situation I have with Stella and Stolass.

On the one hand, Stella is a rough ridiculous caricature of what an abuser supposed to be. From such she, essentially, got only the name and a few basic traits (breaking stuff, yelling, etc.) so you could project on her whatever you want. I'd assume she acts more like a bully than an abuser. But what exactly prevents her from being believable representation of such a serious, complex topic?

Honesty!

Stella never* pretends to be good, neither lies about her intentions nor tries to increase attachment in her victim. She proudly hangs all her red flags out and screams at the top of her lungs, 🚩 "Hey, I'm abuser!" 🚩 And... probably, people like this do exist (people are different). Although they're minority for one simple reason: honesty wouldn't let them fool anyone and escape punishment. (Add to this Stella's lack of magical skills, power, brains, and then you'll see her writing is complete nonsense.) Oh, and don't you dare spread the "It's Hell" excuse on me! I've made a whole list of reasons why this point doesn't have any sense.

On the other hand, Stolass is much more subtle. He speaks civilly, stays calm (most of the time), tries to make a good impression. Stolass tells you how flattered he is that you invited him to the party; he treats himself to a drink and sings on a stage with you. So you'd think everything's fine… But as soon as you turn away, the owl will hide in a corner and bitch with himself about how petty your social event is. And despite this we're supposed to SIDE with Stolass because allegedly he isn't as petty as anybody at the anti-Blitzø party since he came there purely out of ✨politeness✨! Yeah, it's sooo polite to show up and act like a hypocritical jerk! Apparently the dumbass never heard about the polite refusal option.

Conclusion: Choosing between obvious asshole and woobified asshole I'd prefer the first one. At least in that case nobody's trying to force me into sympathy for a hypocrite.

*The ONLY truly manipulative moment from Stella's side was the fake hug in "Mastermind", and even that was pulled out of nowhere and then thrown into nowhere immediately. I guess that was made so people would compare Stella with Mother Gothel while they have nothing in common (sadly).

[dontbesoweirdkira]

can you write about a rebel being bothered by invincible who joined his dad and took over the planet?

i'd imagine mark would see himself as a god because of how much stronger he is. So it's funny to him to see the rebel character resist when they both know she lives at his mercy. he'd take her to dates she didn't want, being her clothes, do sweet relationship stuff meanwhile the character is fuming everytime she sees him.

although some comments gets to him and spirals him into a converstion about how she is nothing compared to him to cope.

(LOVED your batsib x yandere!mark grayson thing btw ❤️)

A/N: Oh my gosh yes? I swear some of ya'lls minds are insane. Mark with an insufferable "god" complex is the best yandere Mark. I loved that the variants of him showed just how fucked up he truly can be. Can you tell which mark is my favorite based on how I wrote this lolll? Sorry this has taken forever to come out. I've been dealing with a lot this past year...forgive me.

Warnings: Dead Dove Don't Eat | yandere!mark, threats, violent descriptions, degradation, and abuse relationship dynamic.

Here's the funny thing about this scenario, Mark is convinced that he's such a good boy for "preserving" you. He doesn't seem to understand why you are so turned off to him when you got the best possible outcome a useless being such as yourself could get. He could've easily killed you or made you into some slave for Viltrumites to use and abuse, but no. You should be kissing his feet and worshiping the very ground he walks on for taking you as his personal..pet *cough* lover.

You hate who he has become. Mark is far from the sweet boy who used to walk you to class and pull all-nighters with. The old mark would never put his hands or you or treat you like some subhuman who should be blessed by his presence. Your heart breaks all over again whenever you wake up next to him, knowing that this isn't all some bad dream and he would probably never return to his old self.. I can't really blame you at all for your rebellion.

Mark tries to convince you that deep down he's always been like this and you need to get over it. The Viltrum way is the only right way to live, that's why humans die off so easily.. can't you see everything is so much better now?

In Mark's defense, he does *try* to retain some of his humanity for you and only you. Well...his own twisted sense of humanity that is. I agree with you that Mark would still take his darling on dates, use cute pet names and do human gushy ushy stuff.. that on paper you should be loving. He thinks that by doing the things you used to love to do with him, he can manipulate you into loving him again. It never really works because it ends with him not knowing how to act right. From forcing intimacy upon you to letting his violent tendencies towards others, especially humans, get the best of him. He'll rip someone's spine out of their body during a date simply because they glanced in your direction then go back to drooling over you like nothing even happened.

Not sure about you, but i'd be a little shit and bite the hell out of his lip whenever he tries to make-out with me. He'd definitely do a dry chuckle, then bite back, drawing blood because you hurt his ego a bit. (the type of man that tries to play it off by sexily sucking your lip and continuing with the kiss. I want to choke him out)

Mark's idea of cuddling is basically just strangling you while he goes on and on about himself or the plans he has for the both of you. Dear Lord, please save us. You can use all you might to push him off of you but he is rather unfazed by this and keeps talking.

Can you imagine Mark trying to be sweet by bringing you a pretty outfit since you mentioned how bland the clothes are that Viltrumites wear are, not expecting to be met with a negative reaction from you? You cannot tell me that he wouldn't be set off by that. He personally took precious time out of his day to get this custom made for you, it's your taste down to a t and he even had it GIFT WRAPPED for you----yet you couldn't be bothered to open it before you tossing it. Madness, he thinks.

He'd grab your hand and force you to fish through the garbage disposal and pick it up, then hold you down while he manhandled you into the outfit. (you have bruises and scratches all over you after that) The entire time he's spewing all sorts of degrading things at you, making sure he's hitting real deep just to make you cry at this point. Oh and you're only wearing that for the next couple of weeks since you're ungrateful, he doesn't care. How dare you disrespect him.

You're right, though. It is hilarious to him when you try fighting him back or acting tough, he's a king and you're his jester. I can see him egging you on at some points for him amusement. You know what he's doing and it only gets you more heated which in turn makes him poke fun at you more.

Tossing you around, pining you down and scaring you are sources of fun for him too. Likes when you get so fed up that you slap him too,,it's so cute and it feels like a tickle to him ..

"You're so damn pathetic, babe. This is why I keep you around, other humans aren't as adorable as you are.."

His very big yet very fragile ego is so on point tho too. He can take you fighting back and acting tough...but do not say shit about leaving him and do not attempt to.

The last time you did, and it genuinely seemed like you meant it to him, he flipped the fuck out. Like you always knew that Mark was batshit, but the way his eyes shifted into something sinister before dangling you by your ankle thousands of miles in the air, threatening to drop you and let the birds eat up your splattered guts...yeah, i'm good on that. You think you are going to just leave and have a better life without him? No way, baby. Death is the only way out of his *loving*chokehold.

Another way to cause him to act out is mentioning something about him being weak or not as great as he thinks he is. Bonus points if you compare him to someone else. You might think you're just getting under his skin as retaliation for whatever he did to upset you, but you are unleashing something you shouldn't..

"----You're nothing. A piece of gum stuck to the sidewalk has far more purpose in this world than you ever could. You could live a million lives, and never amount to me. You wanna do comparisons, huh? I'll show you how weak I am when I snap their fuckin' neck, they're not shit to me and neither are you--- so don't think I won't---"

Yeah he's talking all of this shit while you're trying not to black out from his hands that are tightly constricting your airflow.

I do think he's that much of a pussy that he would have this same reaction without even doing anything, really. He could see someone that he feels insecure about and he's so deluded that he convinces himself that you are somehow now in love with that person, even though you've never met them before...and now he's destroying the house when he comes home.

Once he comes down from his ego trip and realizes he almost just killed you and could've lost you for good over his immaturity, he's very very apologetic. Like the way he acts is the closest to his former self that you're going to get. His touch is suddenly gentle, and his head is thrown into your lap, begging you to forgive him. He goes on about how he is so stupid and he just wants you to love him blah blah "I didn't mean it sweetie" blah blah... yeah fuck you mark. He'd be soft until you're better and finally forgive him (just so he can stfu honestly) then he's back to his shenanigans.

There's so much I could write for this but I don't wanna go too far off of the request lmaoo. Please send in more for daddy Mark with an inflated ego. I need himmmm

[ephemeralinstance]

Lavellan in Veilguard

The scenes with the Solas-romancing Lavellan in Veilguard are, for me, one of the writing highlights of the game. Of course there are limitations with her being an NPC, but I think that subject to the constraints of the structure of the game, the writer did a really great job of a very difficult piece of writing - creating a depiction of the character that fits with thousands of different versions of Lavellan.

First of all, Lavellan's dialogue is elegant and lyrical, matching the cadence in which Solas speaks and thus showing how in-tune they are even after all these years. One thing I loved about Inquisition was that the language was often really beautiful, so I enjoyed seeing that kind of poetic language return here, and I think the writer understood and captured the heart of what a lot of people loved about the Solas romance - the poetry and beauty of it.

In addition, we get a range of different emotions. Lavellan expresses sadness ('He meant that much'), passion ('You've felt the power of that mind'), anger ('He left me to clean up his mess'), self-doubt ('Am I the prideful one?'). Whatever reaction you personally envision your character as having, you can find it represented in what she says here. I know some people wished Lavellan could have more of an angry confrontation with Solas, but that probably wouldn't have been possible without just allowing us to directly control Lavellan; I think the writer achieved a good compromise by showing us her anger and hurt in this conversation. 

At the same time, she's shown to be mature, self-aware, and reflective. We see her questioning herself, asking 'Am I the prideful one, imagining his broken heart so I'd never have to face my folly?' Lavellan isn't deluded; she's not romanticizing what happened. If she chooses to go with him, it's clear that she isn't naive or being manipulated. She's making this choice in a fully aware, thoughtful manner. And although Lavellan loves Solas deeply, he isn't her first priority. It's important that when Rook asks her if she'd be willing to leave with Solas, she states, 'No. We have to save the world first.' We're shown very clearly that she has a life outside of Solas, and she prioritizes her duty to the people of Thedas: only once her task is done is she able to put herself first, and finally choose her own desires over her duty for once. It's also impressive how clearly she understands Solas, as evident in her speculation that he's left clues because part of him wants to be stopped. I particularly liked the fact that she's shown to have a deeper understanding of him than Rook, as seen in their exchange about 'lies of the heart.' Rook just sees one superficial version of Solas as 'god of lies,' whereas Lavellan understands that although Solas did lie to her, at a deeper level he isn't good at concealing what he really feels. Lavellan absolutely knows and understand Solas' flaws and the 'bad' side of him that Rook has seen, but she also knows a different side of him that no one else has seen. If Lavellan chooses to go with him, it's because she understands him completely: she sees all the good and all the bad in him, and she chooses him anyway.

Finally, sometimes I see people critiquing Lavellan for being passive or not having much going on apart from her connection with Solas. Now first off, this clearly isn't true, since she spends the whole game mustering the armies of the south and sending detailed missives about her military operations - no one in Thedas has more going on than this woman! 

But also, it's important to keep in mind that Lavellan isn't supposed to be a fully-fleshed out character: she's specifically left vague enough so that you can fill in the details with your own Lavellan. For example, we're not told much about what she's been up to in the last ten years, but of course that's not because she's done nothing but pine for Solas: it's simply left unspecified so it can be compatible with different headcanons. Lavellan is specifically written to allow us to fill in the details, and the measure of success is not whether she comes off as a fully-developed character to people who don't have their own Solas-romancing Lavellan (honestly, those people shouldn't even be commenting, this writing isn't for them); the measure of success is whether she works as a stand-in for all of our individual versions of Lavellan. And although of course it's never going to be possible to please everyone, I think the writer did a great job within the limitations of what was possible in the plot.

[feefivefoe]

I fear that they would figure me out too quickly. I am so easily manipulated by someone acting pathetic 😔😔

The whole little brother act by Damian would get to me sooner or later and I fear that although Tim is 19, I would feel bad if he came to me after a "nightmare" 😞😞

I just hope that they don't play dirty, because I would be COOKED 😭😭

No you're so valid. I too like to baby pathetic meow meows.

But in my head, reader has to be unempathetic and uncaring because you don't live long in a city like Gotham by being sympathetic.

Caring about people is for those who have the luxury of resources to share. Bleeding hearts get snuffed out. And while reader isn't clinging to life, they aren't going out of their way to get killed.

But unfortunately for folks like you, at least half of the batboys are willing to be pathetic if it means getting the upper hand.

Dick and Tim have no shame. Both of them will cry while clinging to you about just how WORRIED they were about you. And how SAD they are that you HATE them soooo much! Won't you give your dear brothers just a sliver of affection?

Dick will try to monopolize you at times by being physically clingy. The others are just so much more touch adverse, and his love language is physical touch! He's just so sad that he can't properly express how much he loves his siblings! Won't you let him give you the affection he had failed to give for so long? He has so much to make up for! 🥰🥰🥰

Tim is a little more adaptable. Rather than pushing you into the mold he makes, he molds himself to your sympathetic nature. Not only did he have a nightmare, but he just finds it so hard to sleep while he's thinking about all the bad things happening in Gotham...won't you let him sleep in your room? Being around his (now) favorite sibling helps keep his mind at rest! And he's so sleep deprived...don't you want your little brother to get some rest? 🥺🥺🥺

Damian and Jason are much more reluctant to join in. They have more pride than that. And while Jason might be willing if you were mad at him like you were the others...he's already your favorite, he doesn't need to stoop so low. If he does find your attention slipping, he might 'unintentionally' trauma dump about how his death felt, his final thoughts, how the pit makes him feel...inhuman. About how Bruce made him feel abandoned, just like he did to you. What better way to firmly strengthen his position than trauma bonding, right?

Damian takes the longest to come around. Sure, he's the baby. And sure, he kind of played into it by insisting on strengening your familial bond. But he isn't a child! (Damian, you literally are-)

While the others infantilize themselves in a way to get your favor, Damian does it by doing the opposite. Don't look at him as somebody who needs coddling! He's going to look after you, because you're the one who needs him, not the other way around. You live such a better life now that he found you and got the others to bring you home. He'd never admit it, but he's envious of the attention the others get, but isn't willing to throw away his pride to do the same. He does have an advantage by being the youngest. You can't help but naturally baby him a little! And the scowl and scolding he gives every time does nothing to deter you!

[dark-konohagakure2]

Hi can you write Teuande and sakura with a young female worker who they like to grop, sexually harrase. And force her to be naked 24/7 around them. Maybe she has clit leash or nipple claps and they always pull her from their like their own dog.

tw: noncon, abuse of power, workplace harassment, degradation, nipple clamps, clit clamps, mild petplay, exhibitionism, manipulation, cunnilingus, age difference

All characters depicted are 18+

Tsunade is very particular about who she allows to be her students. Sakura is her most trusted disciple due to her strength and intelligence, but the Hokage could always use another promising young lady to mold and guide, just not in the ways of medical ninjutsu and taijutsu, instead Tsunade requires someone who can provide something that has been sorely lacking for both women; some entertainment.

Tsunade really knows how to pick them, the kunoichi she picks to train with her and Sakura is a very cute and skilled young lady. Strong, but not strong enough to fight back against the Hokage, not to mention she is a very obedient shinobi. The girl is of course thrilled at the rare opportunity to train with both the Hokage and one of the strongest kunoichi of her own generation, she'd be a fool to turn down such a privilege.

All is well at first, but not for very long. One minute the girl is thanking her Lady for letting her learn underneath the Sannin, the next Tsunade is telling her to remove all her clothes. But not to worry, Tsunade is going to give her a brand new, and much more fitting uniform; a set of nipple clamps and a matching one for her clit. It'll be abundantly clear that she's not here as a student, but as a pet.

Sakura isn't the type to seem like a bully, but she is going to enjoy teasing her underclassmen, enjoying the seniority she has over the new student. The pink haired medical ninja is always looking for an excuse to tug on the clit leash or to tighten the already snug nipple clamps. While not as strict and domineering as Tsunade, Sakura is much more teasing.

"Oh come on! This is just some simple endurance training, hun! So be a good girl and take it before I tell Lady Tsunade how disobedient you've been today."

Tsunade is no better than her student when it comes to being mean to her little student. She'll use her power as both a Sannin and a Kage to force her subordinate to remain naked at all times, even when others are entering the office, Tsunade will even casually play with the young woman's naked body in front of others, this will quickly earn the poor girl quite the reputation, she'll be known throughout the village, and even by a few people in other villages, as Tsunade's obedient little fucktoy.

The humiliation doesn't just stop with the forced nudity and bondage, the two medical nin are very busy women, with Tsunade being the head of the village and Sakura being the head of the medical department, so they need some serious stress relief. It's not rare for the two women to pass her back and forth, forcing her to take turns eating both of them out until they're satisfied, praising her for getting so much better at eating pussy after all her training.

Getting passed around will soon become routine for the poor kunoichi, she'll be used as a reward for any shinobi who does a good job at their missions, she'll mostly be used by those who are close to the two women, such as Shizune and the men of Team 7, her cute body is perfect for boosting the morale of the Leaf jonnin, and it gives the girl the occasional much needed dose of dick, so everyone wins.

Tsunade is still a kind woman however, she's not going to be nothing but cruel to her beloved pet. She'll still be punished if she's a bad girl, bit if she's a very good girl, Tsunade will reward her with affection and pleasure, she'll even occasionally get the girl some gifts, although they aren't always very appreciated...

"You've been very good for me, haven't you? Well I guess that means you get a reward. If you put this collar on then you won't have to worry about me pulling on that cute little clit of yours! Isn't that nice?"

The wannabe medical ninja ended up getting exactly what she's always wanted, albeit in a twisted way. She wanted to be known throughout the entire village, and now she is. Just not for any of her combat of medical abilities...

[kaszuma]

Second Guesses | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 4 of "Certainly Yours"

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro × fem!reader

summary: you and Soshiro have never once addressed your relationship. But that all changes when he sees a man hand you a drink.

warnings: mentions of alcohol. Adult drinking. Afterparty drinking. Hint of Jealousy, Nothing too serious.

wc: 2,836

---

note: Not proofread. Not really good at writing jealousy for Soshiro. I assumed he'd be more subtle in his advances. I've already planned out the next part. Might be getting an NSFW scene soon. So stay tuned.

---

It's been a few days since you've established this strange relationship with the Vice Captain of the Third Division.

All those admiring glances and careful touches have now been pried open to reveal lasting kisses in the hallways of the early mornings when no one was watching. Even in the heat of the afternoons, he made it very clear to you that he was handsy. Desperate to be close to you. And his palms, which had often been restrained to make innocent touches on your shoulder. Would evolve into a hasty fit of grabbing. Slotting themselves around your waist, subtly spelling his name on the small of your back. All a ploy to pull you much closer when you kiss.

And you reciprocated all the same by running your hands through the smooth roots of his hair. Scratching the gradual taper down to the base of his neck. Where you'd feel him shudder from your touch. Desperate enough so that he stops you from your movements to reply back with an even larger gesture.

Like you had deserved the world and back.

But despite the risky kisses you two would share in the middle of work. Soshiro had made sure that no one was watching. Keeping his loving glances to the privacy of your eyes. Letting not a single person witness his affection for you.

Not letting anyone get any dirt on him. And surprisingly, he was pretty good at keeping this situation between you two a secret.

From pulling away the moment you'd hear voices. Or looking around to see if cameras and voice recordings were within reach.

And luckily since he had access to most of it, he'd easily be able to remove the evidence before Captain Ashiro can check herself.

And should they be discovered? Soshiro was a master of evasive manipulation. Likely with his words alone, he'd be able to wriggle his way out of the situation and make up an excuse for the both of you so that you won't be caught in the awkwardness of it all. Both a boon and a bane to be dealt with.

Though, you highly doubt it would ever come to that situation.

Because for as long as you remember. Despite the guise of his easy-going persona. He was still the respected Vice Captain everyone knew him as. And like his responsibilities. He remained disciplined, loyal to Kaiju slaying. His meticulousness shows in the way he practices his swordsmanship to the privacy he has with you. He keeps his cards close and you even closer.

He holds you as if you were a treasure he found and was unable to share, lest you be taken away from his safekeeping.

And God forbid, if something happened to you.

There would be hell to pay.

And like all his bad habits. He had been able to keep up this persona. Even with you, it seems he still isn't used to that newfound feeling that he's come across. He wasn't used to the ever growing importance you had on his life.

Unable to comprehend the feelings that bloomed within him when you managed to crawl your way into his hardened heart. And now that you're there, he doesn't know whether to hold you tighter or not.

And for whatever reason. You understood that sentiment exactly. Even when those words never left his mouth.

Although it wasn't ideal, you had decided not to confront his aversion to public intimacy. If he had not decided what you are to him. Then so be it. You would be nothing and everything to him, if that helped ease his mind.

Soshiro was a busy man. He was often the last person to shut off all the lights in the training room. And the first person to grab a cup of coffee in the mess hall. And to ruin that routine now, and ask for his confirmation of exclusivity? You’d rather not overwork the poor man who already has enough on his plate. The task was still far too early a concept for the both of you to grasp.

So, you let the man be.

As much as it did sting to see him ignore your presence entirely instead of greeting you in the crowded mess hall. You had not moved from your spot. Letting Soshiro take the lead. Only hearing the trace of his faint laughter ring out as he answered vaguely from the few questions he'd get from some of the officers.

And you smile knowing fully well that he had not alluded to you at all when someone asked if he was seeing anyone.

That is until that persona of his cracked unexpectedly..

It was the evening after a successful mission. The third division had just gotten back from exterminating an army of Yoju in the area. And just like its repertoire, no casualties were sustained during the attack. Not even a broken combat suit that needed fixing. Which made your job a little easier no doubt.

And now, the entirety of the Third Division had been invited out to drink. Renting a large bar down the street, nearest the base.

It hadn't been a few minutes since you sat down. Recognizing a few operators like Okonogi who invited you to sit down next to her. She had excused herself momentarily, likely a trip to the restrooms. When suddenly a martini slid towards you. It had the color of liquid poison, and it reminds you that you haven't had a single drink that night. Unlike the few rambunctious folks who had cheered when a glass of beer was poured to their glasses.

The moment you turn your head you see the telltale signs of an Officer staring right back at you. His grin was one you hadn't recognized, languidly pushing the pretty glass towards you where it was within reach. His cheeks aflame from the steady intake of alcohol.

He was likely a new officer. A recruit from this year's batch. Otherwise, you'd have recognized him from the plenty of times officers would come by to the lab to have their weapons upgraded or repaired.

“Drink up! It's a successful night after all.” He moved uncomfortably closer. And you could smell the stench of his breath that made you want to cringe away. But you didn't really want to seem rude, so you gently nudged him back. To leave enough room between the two of you. Luckily he had seemed to have gotten the hint and poured another glass for himself.

“Want another one?”

The encouragement makes you smile. He had likely not realized that he had been talking to the wrong person. Too drunk to notice that you weren't an officer like the rest of the people in the bar.

“No thank you. I'm good.” you said. “Though, you might consider drinking some water? Maybe it'll help you sober up.” You gestured to the bartender. Though the martini is handed to your palms before you could raise your hand. And you caught yourself before the liquid could make a mess and spill all over the place.

“The night's still young and it's rare that the Captains are treating us to a drink.” He convinced you. And you find yourself second guessing, staring at your drink in thought.

It did look like a very expensive martini. And from the looks of the officer that had offered it to you, he'd been chugging down his own set that he had ordered himself. Already moving on to give you some of his glasses that he had planned to drink.

It wouldn't hurt to taste it, right?

“I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.” You had interjected, already moving the petite glass to your lips.

What you hadn't realized however, was the intense stare you'd get from the back of your head. Red eyes line your figure from across the room. And the bottle of Sake he had ordered was long forgotten at his table with Captain Ashiro.

Before you knew it, the glass rim had been blocked by a hand. And you could see the appearance of an arm obscure the right side of your vision. Blocking both the drink and the drunken gaze from the officer in question.

“Don't ya know you shouldn't accept drinks from strangers, sweetheart?”

Soshiro's husky voice quivered from behind. And you could hear the way his chest rumbled as it pressed against your back. Hand already putting the martini back on the table, away from your lips.

“Vice Captain..?” You hear the officer exclaim in slow syllables. And suddenly the man shot up in a salute. Though dazed from the drinks he clearly had, the rest of the officers behind him had laughed. Clearly amused that the Vice Captain had made an appearance, with an audience no less.

And that was enough to turn your head around to meet his eyes.

And his smile. The smile that had always been difficult to read, had not faded at all the moment you faced him. At least not entirely, as it looked a little irritated. More forced than usual. It seems you're starting to get better at reading his grins. At least, to some extent.

“At ease, we're just about to leave.” He spoke nonchalantly. His gaze not once leaving yours. Which makes your breath hitch slightly.

Your eyes had darted around, first seeing the perplexed faces of the officers. And then seeing the calm expression of both Okonogi and Captain Ashiro just eating some karaage from the sidelines. With the bespectacled girl in particular, clearly enjoying the attention both you and Soshiro had received. She had probably returned long ago and saw the commotion happening.

Likely alluding to the fact that they had already been made aware of their strange relationship. Which makes you a little calmer, knowing that this hadn't been an official work setting. Celebrations at the bar is one thing, but plenty of the Third had still been present, making this seem all the more exposed than ever.

Shit.

Why was he here?

Wasn't he afraid of letting people know about them? or whatever situation their relationship was at the moment. He had made it very clear that he wasn't keen on his admission. Not a single word from his lips that they were more than friends. Let alone lovers. What's changed?

“We were?” You had whispered to him.

“We are. So let's go, yeah?” He simply gestures for you to stand up, hand on the small of your back whilst pointing his chin to the direction of the door. Though before he could gently lead you away the same officer had squinted his eyes. As if a strange idea had popped into his head, but had doubted the premise for it to be factual.

“Where are ya’ going, Vice Captain? You can't just pick girls up like that..” You had seen the small twitch on the corner of Soshiro's lips. It quivers in that irritation you knew well. And it was just their luck that this drunken officer had spoken his thoughts out loud.

Shit. You decide to intervene. “No need to worry, I was just about to grab an uber back to base anyway-”

“What?” Soshiro had looked at you. “No yer’ not, do you know how late it is?”

You had flinched upon hearing Soshiro's firm voice. A first in which he spoke to you with a slightly raised tone. And you could feel the curious stares in your direction.

“Yes, I am.” You said. “And the Vice Captain here is only going to escort me out until my ride is here.” You say between gritted teeth. The sorry excuse of a reasoning was sloppy at best, but you had at least hoped some people had just gotten the picture and left the topic alone.

But Soshiro couldn't help but sigh, remorseful of the way he had raised your voice at you like that. He was only concerned for your safety. And added to the irritation of prying eyes, he didn't mean to reveal so much just from one sentence of his.

“No, Just-” He starts, “Listen, I'll take ya home myself. I don't want ya out this late. Now come on.”

He had grabbed your wrist. Already pulling you along to the exit. Of course, this had garnered stares from their audience. And although some had been wise enough not to ask further questions.In fear of insubordination, it seems not everyone had been sober enough to read the room.

“Woah..Am I missing something here? It's like you two are dating.” The officer had taken a sip of his martini. Curiously glancing around and back at the two of you.

And Soshiro looks back at the crowd who now had incredulous looks on their faces.

“Got a problem with that, soldier?” He spoke with his eyes open. Deep crimson staring at the soldier who could barely stand from the Alcohol he consumed. And you could feel the way Soshiro had nudged you past the door before you could meet any of their prying eyes.

“N-no sir.” He had gulped, turning around to pour himself a shot. Likely already knowing that he might've done himself in by the look at Soshiro's face. His expression, though laid-back as usual, had spoken everything it needed to tell him.

And he was definitely going to run laps, or clean bathrooms the morning after.

“You there. Remind him tomorrow morning to meet me in my office.” He pointed towards the Officer that was nearest the drunken man. Who had proceeded to drink another glass. And before he could hear the response. He walks out the bar's entrance, with you in tow.

Immediately you turned towards him. Brows furrowed in response to his strange behavior. Jealousy was one thing, but now you had an even bigger question. A more sincere one, that you didn't think would be a possibility until now.

“Did you really mean that?” You spoke hesitantly. Watching him walk past you, fishing out the keys for his car.

“Mean what, sugar plum?” and you had half a mind to roll your eyes. Suddenly baffled that his demeanor changed so quickly.

“Don't change the subject. Do you or do you not mean it?” She had stopped walking. And halfway on his step Soshiro had turned towards her. A hint of shock on his expression, but it was so miniscule that you were second guessing if it was truly there.

And his grin had been all the same.

…

Silence would engulf the two for a moment. The type that had been sickening if it went on for too long. But Soshiro hadn't let it get that far. And he spoke.

“I mean it.”

He had turned to avoid your gaze. His hand fidgets to fish out the keys in his pockets, despite having already found it long ago. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for a while..I just..didn't know how.”

“So you shamelessly announce it to the entire Third Division?” You couldn't help but smile. Reaching out for his hand until she held him firmly. And his touch had all but devoured her warmth.

“Do ya’ have to remind me?”

“Yeah. You dug your own grave on that one.” A chuckle escaped your lips. And he turns to you. With unusually pink cheeks that had reddened up to his ears. A rare sight to behold it seems.

“So?” He started. “Do you want to? Be with me, I mean.”

“Hmm…let me think..” You had walked much closer to him. Until you were practically chest to chest with his solid form. And before you knew it, you were leaning up to capture his lips for a momentary kiss. Taking his breath away like all the times he had done the same to you.

Though, you hadn't expected his immediate reply when he slid his free hand to your jaw. Replying back with purposeful kisses. This time, slow and drawn out. Not at all the rush you were used to from all the kisses prior. The haste was likely a result from not wanting to get caught.

And the moment you pull away, you could see the familiar cheeky grin he has on that face of his. Thumb running across the underside of your jaw. “I assume that's a yes?”

“What do you think, genius?”

You feel yourself be pulled into a tight embrace. And you could smell the fresh laundry of his uniform invade your senses. His scent had been all but intoxicating. Relaxing you to the bone. Helping you feel safe within his arms that not even a single Kaiju would dare threaten.

“Yer’ really keepin me second guessing huh? I suppose I deserve that.” He spoke, burying his face against the crown of your hair. Relishing in the feeling of your steady form.

And he supposes he'll have to ask a thousand times more if he was allowed to.

So that no more second guesses are made.

[psychemochanight]

Honestly, even if (just sometimes, normally I don't) I love the new interpretation of Dick as the "angry Robin" that we have these days, sometimes it feels bad that you can't talk about a version of Dick as Robin that isn't like that without getting people saying things like "that's not Dick, he's the angry one, the bloodthirsty one" and... What?

It takes away a lot of depth from the character when people only think of that when talking about Robin!Dick, when, since always, Dick was, quite possibly, one of the best written characters, and one of those that has more nuances to make him a completely human character, not only in the sense of not having superpowers, but of being able to empathize with him.

There are many versions of the story, but the most widely accepted version is that Dick lost his parents at the age of eight, watching them fall because they sabotaged their act, an act Dick probably saw many times, one he knew for sure his parents would never fail... Until it failed, and through no fault of their own.

Dick was a little boy who grew up in a loving family (as far as we know, I still think they were strict, but not necessarily bad parents... We'll talk about the Court of Owls later), and from one second to the next, all of that ended. Even if Bruce was there for him, things obviously weren't the same anymore, they never would be again.

Although many have the idea that Dick escaped from youth center to kill Zucco, in the original stories Dick didn't even know yet about him, at least not that much to know what he really did; but he wanted to escape from juvenile so as not to lose his values, so as not to stop being who he is, who his parents taught him to be.

Even in the lines where he DOES say he wants to kill Zucco, in most cases, when push comes to shove, he wants to prevent Zucco's death. There are some moments where he even confesses that he didn't want Zucco to die, he just wanted justice for his parents.

People now see Dick as the Robin who only saw misfortune and was an absolute menace to society, and while, yes, Dick was an absolute menace, it was only to the villains, who heard a little boy laughing at them before beating the shit out of them. Plus, even as a child he was a master manipulator, both for enemies and allies.

But what about the rest? Robin was supposed to be the light where Batman was the darkness. He was the one who comforted scared civilians when Batman couldn't. He was the sensitivity that Batman cannot afford to show.

Dick Grayson was the one who saved Batman from losing himself in the same darkness that he himself was making his only way of life, and this is something that Alfred has pointed out before. It is thanks to Dick that Batman stopped being the ruthless "hero" he was becoming. Damn, he was the one who softened Alfred's heart in the first place too.

This was the Robin that Superman saw as worthy of carrying the mantle of Nightwing, whom he saw as someone who could represent hope itself.

Bruce didn't start smiling just because of the other Robins like many people now believe, no. Dick was the first to make him smile again, the one who opened the doors for the others.

Dick was always kind and tender-hearted, always joy where there was only devastation.

Even if he was the living nightmare of villains, he was still that cheerful child who wanted to avoid the pain of others. The boy who inspired other heroes, not only because of his skills, but because of his heart.

Dick is a character who, while he is now more recognized as Nightwing than as Robin (which doesn't bother me at all, because that was always his goal when he became an independent hero), he still has a history that people seem to increasingly forget about and pigeonhole his development into something... Flat.

Were there times when Dick had more anger and pain than any other feeling in him? Yes, absolutely YES. But this stage is mostly in his Discowing years, not of Robin as such (I'm not saying there weren't such moments, but there aren't as many as people describe now, and even then, he was more serious than angry), or as some animated series showed (I love these series, even if they turned Dick into a feral child who is unable to smile, lol)

Again. I LOVE Dick's portrayal as a feral child and absolute menace to society (which he was), but I also LOVE when artists, writers, and the entire fandom itself appreciates the different nuances of his personality, from his ability to laugh despite the misfortunes in his life, to his sadness that never ceased to be a part of him, until the moments where he could only feel rage and pain and felt that the world was only darkness, unable to see the colors that emerged from the light he projected by himself.

Look at him, he's so cute <3

Does anyone care about this yap? No, but I wanted to let out what I've been repeating in my head for days because people on tiktok have me fed up HAHA