#toxic generosity

[softsatinskies]

[the-kestrels-feather]

I'm so tired of my mom.

So my dad made gumbo tonight because my sister is home and she LOVES it. which I also LOVE, and he puts big chunks of green peppers and onions in it, which I don't. I'm not a big vegetable person in general, but most I'll eat. I don't like green pepper, so I just pick it out. And I like onion but I don't like the big pieces so if they're too big I'll pick them out. And when I went to go out my dishes away she side eyes my pile of peppers and goes "this is ridiculous" in the most passive aggressive condescending tone and I just????? I'm sorry I've told you I don't like them?? I don't care that they "don't have a taste", I can taste them and it's also a texture thing?? Like??? I eat everything else in the gumbo, including the diced tomatoes, why the fuck does it matter leave me the fuck alone.

[katiajewelbox]

I used to be a helpful, generous person... but being in a toxic environment for years changed me.

[madewithonerib]

Human Psychology Will Change Your Life | Yisroel Glick

[4:08] Hold rather than be the emotion

Over time the more that we can hold an emotion inside, rather than be the emotion, the bigger they start to get and they get bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger because for a person who has become their emotion—if that emotion is going to become bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger, it’s not going to work.

But if that emotion, if we can hold it inside of ourselves & still be functional, and still be able to maybe feel joy at the same time as we feel a negative emotion—then what happens is the emotion can get bigger & bigger, and it can start to express itself more & more & more & more. And we‘ll feel emotions getting bigger & bigger, and heavier & heavier over time—at the same time, as we can start to appreciate the beauty in these things because they’re part of life; and life is beautiful.

I am going to jam this article in here, will read later to compare:

Why Some People Take Breakups Harder Than Others

Part of it depends on whether they believe personality is fixed or constantly changing.

It’s a question that often plagues people after a painful break-up: What went wrong? As they work to figure out the answer, people typically create new relationship stories, analyzing the events leading up to the breakup and using them to build a cohesive narrative. In some cases, this type of storytelling can be positive, helping people to make sense of—and come to terms with—painful things that happen to them. Other times, though, the storytelling process can be a negative one, compounding pain rather than easing it.

My colleague Carol Dweck and I research why some people are haunted by the ghosts of their romantic past, while others seem to move on from failed relationships with minimal difficulty. Over the course of our research, I’ve read hundreds of personal stories about the end of relationships, and these stories offer some clues as to what pushes a person into one group or the other.

In one study, Dweck and I asked people to reflect on a time when they were rejected in a romantic context, and then write about the question: What did you take away from this rejection? For some people, their answers made it clear that the rejection had come to define them—they assumed that their former partners had discovered something truly undesirable about them. For example, one person wrote: “Things were going well when all of a sudden he stopped talking to me. I have no idea why, but I think he saw that I was too clingy and this scared him away.” Another said: “I learned that I am too sensitive and that I push people away to avoid them pushing me away first. This characteristic is negative and makes people crazy and drives them away.”

In these types of stories, rejection uncovered a hidden flaw, one that led people to question or change their own views of themselves—and, often, they portrayed their personalities as toxic, with negative qualities likely to contaminate other relationships. One study participant wrote: “I learned that I have a part of my personality that sabotages my happiness.” Another confessed: “I just feel hurt and rejected. I try to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault and that it was that person’s loss but I can’t help but feel inadequate.”

Many of these stories were similar to the ones I’d heard from friends after their own breakups. The refrains were familiar:  “Why wasn’t I good enough?” or “Is there something wrong with me?” When people see ex-partners in new relationships, they often ask themselves: “What does she or he have that I don’t?”

After a breakup, it can be healthy for people to reflect on what they’ve learned from the past relationship and what they want to improve in the next one. A healthy behavior can become an unhealthy one, though, when people take it too far and begin to question their own basic worth.  

But the loss of a partner can make it easy to fall into the self-deprecation trap. Research by the psychologist Arthur Aron and his colleagues shows that when people are in close relationships, their self becomes intertwined with their partner’s self. In other words, we begin to think of a romantic partner as a part of ourselves—confusing our traits with their traits, our memories with their memories, and our identity with their identity. In a measure designed to capture the closeness of a relationship, Aron’s team ask people to consider themselves as one circle, their partner as another, and indicate the extent to which the two overlap.

To an extent, this overlap of the two selves can be a very positive part  of relationships. As people get to know a new romantic partner, they often go through a rapid period where they immerse themselves in the interests and identities of their partner, adopting new perspectives and expanding their worldview. One of the greatest pleasures of being in a relationship is that it can broaden a person’s sense of self by exposing them to things outside of their usual routines.

But this also means that when a relationship ends, the loss of a romantic partner can, to some extent, cause the loss of the self. In one study, after reflecting on a breakup, people used fewer unique words to describe themselves when writing a short self-description. And the more people felt themselves grow during a relationship, the more likely they were to experience a blow to their self-image after the breakup.

In our research, people reported the most prolonged distress after a romantic rejection when it caused their self-image to change for the worse. People who agreed that the rejection made them question who they really were also reported more often that they were still upset when they thought about the person who had rejected them. Pain lingered from rejections that had occurred even years before. Writing about what they took away from the rejection, one study participant said: “Lots of emotional pain. Sometimes it keeps me awake at night … It’s been 10 years and the pain hasn’t gone away.” If rejection seems to reveal a new, negative truth about a person, it becomes a heavier, more painful burden.

When rejection is intimately liked to self-concept, people are also more likely to experience a fear of it. People reported becoming more guarded with new partners and “putting up walls.” One study participant wrote: “I feel like I constantly withhold myself in possible future relationships in fear of being rejected again.” The belief that rejection revealed a flaw prompted people to worry that this defect would resurface in other relationships. They worried that future relationships would continue to fail, voicing fears that no matter how hard they tried, they would not be able to find someone new to love them.

In some cases, rejection also seemed to fundamentally change people’s outlook on romantic partnerships, leaving them with pessimistic views about the fundamental nature of relationships. As one person wrote: “To me, this rejection was like opening Pandora’s Box, and concepts like love and trust became fantasies that never really existed.”

So what makes for a healthy breakup, one in which the person moves on with minimal emotional damage? In our study, some people drew much weaker connections between rejection and the self, describing rejection as an arbitrary and unpredictable force rather than the result of some personal flaw. One person wrote, “Sometimes girls are not interested. It’s nothing to do with yourself, it’s just that they’re not interested.” Another noted how rejection wasn’t a reflection of worth: “I learned that two people can both be quality individuals, but that doesn’t mean they belong together.” Other people saw the rejection as a universal experience: “Everyone gets rejected. It’s just part of life.”

Yet another group of people saw the breakup as an opportunity for growth, often citing specific skills they had been able to learn from rejection. Communication was a recurrent theme: People described how a rejection had helped them understand the importance of clear expectations, how to identify differences in goals, and how to express what they wanted out of a relationship. Other participants wrote that breakups had helped them to accept that they couldn’t control the thoughts and actions of others, or to learn how to forgive.

So separating rejection from the self tends to make breakups easier, and linking the two tends to make them more difficult. But what makes people more likely to do one or the other? Past research by Dweck and others shows that people tend to hold one of two views about their own personal qualities: that they are fixed over the lifespan, or that they are malleable and can be developed at any point. These beliefs impact how people respond to setbacks. For example, when people consider intelligence to be something fixed, they’re less likely to persist in the face of failure than people who believe that intelligence can be developed.

And when we asked people to reflect on their past rejections, we found a link between those who believed personality was fixed and those who believed that rejection exposed their true selves. If someone believes that their traits are unchanging, the discovery of a negative one is akin to a life sentence with that new knowledge. Believing in the potential for change, however, might meant that the discovery of a negative quality instead prompts personal growth.

The stories we tell ourselves about rejection, in other words, can shape how, and how well, we cope with it. Previous research has illustrated the importance of storytelling in other realms—for example, recovering alcoholics who told redemptive stories in which they learned something from their suffering were more likely to maintain sobriety than people who told stories without this theme. Narratives that explained pivotal decisions (including getting married or divorced, and changing jobs) as moving toward a desired future, rather than escaping an undesirable past, were associated with higher life satisfaction.

One strategy for making breakups a little easier, then, might be to consciously consider the narratives we create about the experience. A person might think: I was bad at communicating in the relationship; I guess I just can't open up to people. Another story might be: I was bad at communicating in the relationship, but that’s something that I can work on, and future relationships will be better. Maybe a healthy habit of questioning our own narratives can help us to make better ones—stories that promote resilience in the face of pain.

Lauren Howe is a doctoral candidate in psychology at Stanford University.

This post originally appeared on The Atlantic and was published January 20, 2016. This article is republished here with permission.

[queenerdloser]

my toxic trait is being insufferable about the people who misinterpret a chistmas carol

[patches-of-thistle]

im so shit at comprehending my thoughts so ill try my best to explain this but:

i think the main thing i started to pick up on recently, sometime during my main blog’s lifespan but before this one was made, i learned that “annoying is good”

viewing it as bad, something that needs to be treated, or silenced is a really unhealthy and toxic mindset. atleast adjusting your perspective of it to make it bearable is enough that needs to be done, but i dont think it should require any amount of intervention. at all

i dont think i wouldve been active in a lot of places if i wasnt “annoyed”; not on disc, not on tumblr…. like, i dont mean it in a way with any negativity - it would be best to redefine “annoying” in this post as “a result which stems from you having fun/doing anything that reaches other people” - but i do genuinely mean that, if i hadnt stumbled into people who bumped into me and the other blogs they had because of avid sharing of interests/sharing of work/etc then i mightve been stayed a really quiet blog that felt like i needed to be selective and loyal to my interests

i probably wouldntve ended up making this blog either and been as confident to vent out some of my personal issues as i have not too long ago (even though they were quite harsh and i still look back on some of it with a bit of guilt) if i hadnt come to this conclusion at all so…. yeah

“annoying” is good imo. so long as youre having fun with it, whatever it is, you deserve to be “annoying” - and the negative stigma that comes with being that comes from people who dont even matter to you anyway…. so like. sparkle on ig?? lmfao

[mlbullsportfolio]

From my poem Empathy

(April 2022)

Empathy is my lethal disease, and it's my healing penicillin, Show kindness, people say, keep giving and forgiving.

Love yourself, others say, set boundaries, apply self-care, Trusting most people is an issue, can't tell fakery from what's true.

Except for this one specific thing: I will look out for myself too.

[hadesrise]

## murder for you, baby !!

summary──── a justifiable serial killer on the loose, and jason finds himself being enamoured by him.

pairings──── jason todd x dbd!ghostface!male reader

warnings──── nsfw content, serial killer themes, dead dove do not eat, sexual arousal in response to violence or torture, murder, blood, deaths, gore, foul language, bottom!jason, top!reader, reader’s physique is described as tall and broad ( the slasher build ), possessiveness, choking, praise kink, blood kink, knife play ( reader carving his initials on jason ), toxic!reader ( ? ), sorta toxic relationship but also not, unprotected sex, love-making, pet names, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation if you squint, lil’ bit of manipulation, creampie, doggy style, mating press, biting, marking, oral ( r. receiving ), voice kink ( ? )

author’s note──── not me coming back with halloween themed fic after halloween days have passed lol. i’m alive, y’all !! hope you enjoy this one that took a fucking month to write 😭

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; this post may contain disturbing contents that may not be suitable for every reader — a reader discretion is advised. MINORS DNI !!

Gotham’s been terrorized by the worst people you could ever imagine, the kind that’ll stick with you forever and take residence to your nightmares if you were unfortunate enough. Many were hurt or even murdered as a result of the villains’ terrorization, with vigilantes running through the night to capture and send them to Arkham Asylum.

With the existence of a Psychopathic Clown, his equally psychopathic girlfriend with PHD’s that’s been wasted down the line, the Mother Nature freak, the ridiculously huge man with a gas mask on, the green coloured living question mark, and many others, no one would’ve ever thought anything could get any worse.

Until some criminals’ bodies turn up across the streets in such disturbing manner that haunts the witnesses to death.

One, a criminal who murdered young and homeless boys, gutted deeply to the point of their intestines hanging out. Another, a criminal known for kidnapping and selling people’s organs, mutilated with their torso torn back to expose the organs settled inside of them. Another one, a priest-turned-criminal who’s been violating women and children, crucified naked in his own church with his eyes gouged out, a Bible verse carved in his chest; ‘And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.’ Matthew 18:9; his penis cut off and body seemingly violated as well. Another more turns up, a governor-turned-criminal who’s been feeding into the rich despite their oath of generosity towards the poor, severely tortured with the skin on his back cut open, ribs severed from the spine and broken to the sides in order to create the illusion of wings, fluttering lungs pulled out from their chest cavity to resemble an eagle’s wings, with the word ‘traitor’ carved on his forehead.

The brutality and gruesome nature of the murders has set an alarming panic and fear across Gotham City that forced civilians into locking their doors at night. Criminals who were unidentified and not found by Gotham Police Department were also turning up in a form of miserable, tortured soul, along with the evidence and proofs of their crimes being carelessly laid beside their lifeless corpse.

The killer taunts those who are in charge of justice within their city each time the damned were unfortunate enough to be hunted down; pigs of failure written in the criminal’s blood right beside the drawing of a police’s logo.

However, despite how gruesome and disturbing the murders were, most people couldn’t deny that it was doing the city a favor. Justice System has failed more times than one could count to the extent of victims yearning to exact revenge themselves against their perpetrator, which causes most to react rather positively to the wrongful, unlikely hero who had seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The haunted finally getting the chance to slay the traumatic demons with the help of another psychopath on the loose.

Another justified monstrosity shouldn’t be the counter against one inhumane monstrosity that caused so much pain, trauma, and misery. But kindness could not vanquish one’s tainted blood. Forgiveness could not suddenly wash away the sins engraved deeply into one’s soul.

Imperfect, the victims muttered. An imperfect yet perfect way to save our burning souls wrongfully condemned by the criminals.

Red Hood has heard their murmurs.

Silent whispers of gratitude that fell on deaf ears, their previously dim soul brightening in relief and sanctuary with smiles on their faces as the Universe had finally took mercy on them and sent a Fallen Angel to slay the Demons away. He’s watched their spirit uplift, no longer chained down by the trauma and fear of the monsters that once ruined their lives, able to walk the streets carefree of tormentors. He’s watched their stiff posture visibly loosen, lively peacefulness settling itself at last within their haunted eyes. He’s watched them glow with happiness not feeling the presence of their perpetrator every couple of seconds, finally capable of living without needing to constantly look over their shoulders in paranoia and fear.

Ghostface is what the serial killer’s called, nickname born out of the mask that resembled a ghost always being left behind in crime scenes, each slightly different.

Jason has seen you. He didn’t mean to, really.

The temptation to get at least one look at you was great every-time he patrolled, wishing to just catch glimpse of an immoral hero who could make sacrifices no actual heroes could — who’s doing exactly what he wished before for Batman to do.

The Universe seems to have granted his wishes when his eyes catches the void of ghostface’s eyes, your mask tainted in splatters of blood from the dead criminal below you. Jason feels his world come to a stop as you slowly rise from crouching position and reveal your unnaturally tall height, broad shoulders visible under the black hooded leather. You hold silence and calmness despite being caught, tilting your head slightly to the side.

His heartbeat quickens yet he doesn’t feel fear. Jason idiotically steps closer as if he was in a trance, burning your existence within his eyes to engrave in his memory. Your bloody knife barely grazes his neck to stop him before using it to tilt his chin up, your figure looming and towering over him while seemingly staring into his eyes through his helmet.

A sense of peacefulness overcomes Jason being in your presence despite the absolute brutality and mercilessness that surrounded your entire being. You were deadly, silent, certainly creative with your work that it deems almost artistic, as if the criminals’ bodies were your own canvas to paint on — and Jason finds solace in you. A man he always needed, someone who’d be willing to cross the line and get rid of the actual evil for the sake of victims that’d be forever haunted if it continues to exist.

“I’ve heard things about you, Red Hood.”

Low, raspy, monotone voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine. It sounds cool and handsome regardless of the obvious use of voice changer, somehow littered with tiniest hint of flirtatiousness.

It takes him quite a while to answer, barely managing to let out a “yeah?” as he feels you drag the knife slightly closer to his pulse. His heartbeat quickens, but slows down when the cold metal was finally pulled away.

“Pleasant things,” You hummed, before your voice lowered a few octaves, “Can’t say the same about Batman.” Anger seems to seep through your tone that felt a little more than just sympathy for victims of villains Batman refused to put six feet under. Jason wondered if you’re also one of the victims his father failed.

“You… You know him that much?” Jason’s voice shakes from the nerve, your presence somehow greatly affecting him.

“I think everyone knows him enough,” You chuckled, but it sounded so empty that Jason can’t help but feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was quite chilling to meet someone who shows only a certain amount of emotion which could even be felt expressionless due to the monotonous pitch. The ghostface mask certainly did its job of making you seem more less human, the unmoving expression of ghost being horrified to death adding to the eeriness of your toneless mechanic voice.

Jason’s breath hitched when you took one step closer.

“But I know more about you. Your little past and the sufferings you’ve endured,” It’s spoken as if his life was one of your necessary investigation in your twisted justice. “It’s unfair, don’t you think? I would’ve gutted the Joker like a fish if it were to happen to my son.” There’s a condescending way in which you spoke, not directed at Jason but to Bruce.

“How—” Jason swallowed. “How did you—”

“I can make your dreams come true,” You interrupted him with a tempting offer, shutting him up effectively. Wide grin plastered your face despite not being seen behind your mask. “I can kill the Clown for you, Red Hood. If it means it’ll silence your troubled spirit. If it’ll bring you peace. I can hurt him on your behalf just like he deserves.”

It was like a whisper from the devil, slithering its way into Jason’s heart and mind to possess his soul, mirroring the one which whispered on Adam and Eve’s ears.

He’s been wanting — needing — to hear those words come out of Bruce. His suffering and death seemingly being brushed off as a cruel accident shattered him more than he’d ever admit, Bruce’s unhealthy coping mechanism and morality getting in the way of showing his love for Jason that left the younger man feel lesser than he was. Bruce was a complex person that’s sometimes difficult to understand, his impressive ways to stick to his morals being exactly his character, but Jason wanted for once, to actually feel how important he was to his father.

Was that too much to ask for, or was he just unworthy of the entirety of it?

“Why would you do that for me?” Confusion and subtle suspicion filled his tone as Jason narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out your intention despite the rush of hope that shot throughout his chest. He forced himself to feel nothing when you leaned in closer.

“Because you were wronged, of course.” You simply stated. “You are a victim. Not more, not less. You deserve a little more than just empty justice. And I’m a man who got tired of vigilantes that are afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Then, you tilt your head slightly to the side in a way that’s somehow alluring. “But I can also say I’m intrigued by you.”

Jason’s heartbeat quickens again when your big hand seems to wrap perfectly around his throat, fingers resting just above his pulse points. It makes such filthy thoughts flood themselves into his mind, your long and quite thick fingers falling victims to his tainted imagination, and he had to give everything in himself not to bare his throat more for you. You seem pleased of his lack of disobedience and bite, having expected him to shove your hand away or flinch back before you could touch him. You’ve seen Red Hood once and how his uncontrollable rage resulted in violence, heavy burdens and extreme trauma turning him into a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute with the wrong move. He was absolutely lethal, the bullets serving as the evidence of his wrath and resentment towards the underground scumbags. It’s amusing that you have the man of violence himself now somehow completely under your control, surprisingly quiet and shy and obedient. You wondered if this is how he was before he was ruined by the cruelty of the world.

“You want it, don’t you? For me to kill the Joker.”

Jason feels as if you know everything he wants. Is this what it feels like to be important?

It takes a little while for him to answer, but he eventually came up with a “You’ll do that?” which sounded vulnerable and weak for the first time in his second life. Your heart clenched at the doubt and seemingly child-like vulnerability in which he uttered the words, as if he was afraid to trust something after being betrayed countless of times, reminding you of the sole person you’ve even began doing all of this for. They were quite similar yet so different — your older brother and Jason.

You hadn’t meant to cross his boundaries and unknowingly step into the empty hole that made home in his heart. Unconsciously slithering in like a snake by touching the subject his heart was longing for, not realizing his childhood’s still remaining within his spirit.

All he wanted was love and to feel safe again. You didn’t know the Red Hood was so adorably pitiful. A smirk plastered your face.

“I will,” You reassured and leaned your face inches away from his, the hand on his throat lifting his helmet slightly.

Jason doesn’t retaliate, blinded by a meat of hope dangled in front of him. He doesn’t move as the lower half of his face was exposed, and you lifted your own mask the same using your other hand. Jason willingly, obediently closes his eyes before your lips attached to his — a kiss of death, tasting like blood and cruelty. Warm and soft despite your rough, cold-blooded, corrupted soul. A kiss from the devil.

When Jason opened his eyes, you had already disappeared into the darkness with blood stains on the ground you stood before, a single note left behind; Hell will reopen for the Clown.

After neatly tucking the note inside his jacket and making sure no evidence has been accidentally left on the crime scene, Red Hood smiles for the first time in a long while and reaches for the comms without a heavy heart.

“Batman, I found another body.”

Whatever happens, he’ll have no knowledge of the following misfortune that’ll befall on the Joker. It’s the righteous serial killer’s doing, after all.

What was used to be a maniacal laughter turned into screams of agony and pain. Strong stench of death and blood makes euphoria rush within your mind, the feeling of slicing through flesh with your knife bringing pleasure and ecstasy that made your pants tight. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in the way your own actions cause serious harm and scarring to criminals who once deemed themselves powerful, being reduced into nothing but a powerless prey that could easily be gotten rid of.

You feel increasingly powerful the more you strip them of their dignity and arrogance as they shed blood on the holy ground. Your existence alone striking them with crippling fear and anxiety feeds into your ego, yet you never stray away from the sole purpose or reason for your murders — making them taste their own medicine.

From what you found on countless deep dive and research, Joker preyed on Red Hood when he was still a young child full of life and joy, having been under the name Robin at the time. Second Robin to be exact, considering he was a lot different from the first one. It actually surprisingly pained you when you’d seen how much of an adorable, dorky, nice kid he was before misfortune cut his life short. You would’ve never thought you would find a kid adorable in your entire life, the little menaces often being nothing more than a headache to be around with that caused a certain dislike to grow towards them within you, but Jason was everything a cute kid was. Just excited to be there, to be fighting alongside Batman, to be relevant.

Such a precious boy ruined for the sake of shits and giggles for the Clown. For the sake of getting under Batman’s skin. And the Bat couldn’t even make fucking amends to his flaws as a father and mentor.

Well, he didn’t need to anymore.

You’ll give Red Hood— Jason Todd —what he wants. Yearned for. Perhaps, even what the other civilians who have fallen victims to this vile criminal want. You would stop at nothing until every criminal is gurgling and choking on their own blood.

Joker’s scream shoots a jolt of electricity within your body as your knife pierce through his skinny thigh and to the ground, pinning his leg down. You had been doing an effective job of reducing the maniac into nothing but a screaming, cowering average victim by torture. Bruises, burns, gashes, and stab wounds littered his body that was done carefully enough to not be life-threatening. Fucker was laughing maniacally at first, of course. It irritated you so much that you might’ve went a little overboard.

Watching Joker heave and struggle to breathe from the pain, you tilted your head and roughly grabbed his throat. It catches him off guard and he grips your wrist, barely even having the strength to fight you off. You’re amused by the entirety of Joker’s nature, how he’s still just an average man that can easily be overpowered — nothing that makes him special enough to not be killed, becoming proof of Batman’s selfish willingness to let the victims suffer than bring them actual peace.

You’ve never uttered a word since you captured him and it unnerved Joker from the beginning, but then, words finally come out of your mouth in a form of monotonous, mechanical, emotionless, eerie voice as you lean over him; “Laugh it out, Joker. Why so serious?”

It sounded like a death sentence.

He’s right in a way, because another of your knife pierced the corner of his mouth soon as you uttered the words. Your other hand tightened on his arteries to choke him while you drag the knife to slit the side of his mouth into a grin, following the lines of his red lipstick. It was certainly not a clean cut, but an artist has their own creative ways to make their art. Tears mixed in with blood that gushes out of his face, complete horrors written across Joker’s eyes which boosts your satisfaction. You go on and do the same thing to the other side of his mouth, before finishing your art piece by carving ‘J’ on his painted cheek.

You resist the urge to moan at the sight of blood coating your fine piece, always finding it to be an amazing finishing touch.

From then on, Joker was brought to literal Hell.

Jason flinches when a playful knock sounded from his safe house’s window, cautiously approaching to see ghostface waving at him through the glass. His eyes widened and immediately opens the window to let you in, not wanting anyone to see you — your sudden appearance distracting him from the fact he’s never given anyone the location of his safe house.

He stops in track at the blood splatters across your mask, and just then had he noticed you seemed to be hiding something behind your back with one hand. It definitely strikes his curiosity, but he somehow didn’t feel like you were holding something that could harm him.

“You got something for me, ghostface?” Jason feels you grin under your mask.

“Got you a present,” Your raspy, rough voice enthusiastically quipped.

Jason’s breath hitches when you show what you were holding — the Joker’s decapitated head in a square glass container tainted by its blood. You obviously had planned to bring it barehand, but you considered the possibility of its blood dripping down on his safe house and becoming a false evidence to point him to the murder, which prompted you to put it inside the container. An unbelievably sweet gesture for a fucking psychopath like you.

Jason could feel his heart beat rapidly as he takes in the animal’s state, carved up grin and the letter J and the horrors seen in its lifeless eyes proving the absolute misery and suffering it went through before being put down. The monster was finally, finally slain and gone forever from his life. Nightmares detangles from his spirit and the past unwraps away from his soul, utter peace and relief spreading throughout his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being free at last from the life long torment, breath shaking as his knees wobbled.

The child in himself, the innocent Robin that was killed unfairly, finally rests in peace.

Then he sees you, his hero, waving your seemingly new knife playfully in the air with your outfit splattered in blood without a care that you actually saved him, and Jason feels a sudden surge of arousal and will to submit. To give you everything, anything.

“Do you love it, Red Hood?”

Without answering you, Jason grabs the glass container with shaky hands and sets it aside on the counter before stepping back closer to you again, blood rushing to his veins from arousal. He removes his helmet with a thud on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, lustful and yearning emerald eyes looking up at you.

“Let me thank you, please.”

It makes you groan as your pants significantly tightens more.

You slide your knife back into the holster before cupping his beautiful face in your hands, and thank fucking Heavens there wasn’t any blood on it that would taint his face, because he’s a sight to behold. He’s truly a gem, something precious you had never seen before. “So beautiful,” You whispered, making Jason flush. “Baring yourself to me for such a simple present, doll?”

“Not a simple present,” Jason mumbled as he snuggles on the palm of your hands. “You saved me.”

You hum appreciatively, getting the itch to bare yourself to him as well. “You wanna thank me by what?”

Jason looks back at you, face flushed with a little hint of uncertainty and embarrassment, doubts. “I— uhm,” He stammers, but encouraged by your thumb’s gentle stroke on his cheek. “By… by becoming yours.”

Your cock throbs. Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable, you just wanna fuck his guts out. You’re usually tempted to gut people, not fuck their guts— which is funny to say the least— but you weren’t going to say no when the Red Hood’s so willing to offer himself up.

“You wanna take my mask off, doll?” He seems surprised by your question as if he hadn’t thought of it, making you chuckle. “If you wanna be mine, I gotta be yours too, don’t I?” It was dangerous to reveal your identity to him, but you couldn’t care less, especially when you could just fuck his brains out to shut him up. That’s the plan, first time that didn’t include butchering or cutting a body up.

Jason fucking Todd and his effects on you.

The emerald eyed male hesitantly grasped your mask when you led his hands to it, slowly lifting it over your head. He’s met with a fucking luscious feature to ever be adorned on a man and dark, lustfully murderous blood red eyes that makes a whimper slip past his lips. You merely widened your eyes at the sound he made before immediately grabbing his jaw and smashing your lips against his, swallowing Jason’s surprised gasp.

He reciprocates the insatiable hunger you displayed, tongue dancing along with yours and moaning into the kiss when your fingers lightly tugged on his hair. You pull him up in amidst of making out and squeeze his ass, encouraging him to wrap his legs around your hips. You detach your lips from his to trail kisses down his jaw and neck as you walked towards his bedroom, questionably knowing where it is, and Jason tilts his head back to give you more access with closed eyes. Letting him stimulate both of your restrained cocks by grinding down, you sat down on the bed and sucked on his throat as Jason moaned.

“Please, please…” He whimpers, uncontrollably moving his hips in a perfect rhythm yet he seemed to want something else.

You pulled away and traced his lips with your thumb, watching as he naturally took it in and sucked, giving you a desperate look. Swiftly turning off the voice changer attached to your neck in a form of choker, you chuckled when his hands fiddled with the belt on your hooded coat. “So needy, aren’t you?” Your real voice sends shivers down his spine.

An alluring, low, slightly rough pitch and somehow more emotionless than when you were using the voice changer. It makes his cock twitch and empty hole clench down on nothing, the need to be stuffed full of your cum swarming in his belly. You’re fucking bewitching, a man made up from every guy and girl’s fantasy, wet dream, and your attractiveness mirroring the Devil’s that would tempt and lure others to sin.

How the fuck were you real?

“Speak up, pretty bird.” You smirked, “What do you want?”

“Your cock,” Jason mutters, cheeks tinted in pink. “Wanna suck your cock and make you feel good.”

“Fuck…” You shifted in place, “You’ll do that f’me? Get my cock nice and wet to take you apart? To fuck your guts out?”

Jason shakily inhales and nods, climbing off your lap and kneeling on the floor. You lean back on your hands as he unstraps your belt and slide your zipper down, slightly raising your hips to help him get rid of the excess clothes. Your thick and lengthy cock smacks against your clothed stomach, making Jason’s mouth water. Thick veins throbbed on your big shaft, the tip angry and red from arousal leaking precum. It wasn’t just big, it was long, and Jason squeezes his thighs together to keep himself from just riding your cock all day.

His hand wraps around the base, starting to stroke it with a content rhythm. God, you were so fucking big. It’d definitely split him open if you shove it in so suddenly and fill him up nice. It’d make him scream his head off from the unbearable length and girth, almost too much, and Jason wants you to force him to take it. Pin him down and fuck him despite his pleas to stop.

Jason swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing precum, pumping it for a good amount before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock. You shudder, removing your gloves to slip your bare fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging him to take you in. He obeys, relaxing his throat first before sliding your cock inside his warm mouth, and you groaned at the warmth that surrounded you. It almost didn’t fit from how big you were, but Jason braced himself and took it in further until he gagged as the tip touched the back of his throat. Wrapping his hand around your shaft that he couldn’t take in, stroking gently as if to apologize.

A moan slips past your lips when he starts bobbing his head, tongue brushing against the underside of your dick. “Fuck… Doin’ so good,” You roll your head back. “Such a pretty face to fuck, ain’t ya?”

Jason whines, tears gathered in his eyes as he sucks and fastens his rhythm. Curses, grunts leave your lips that left him feeling all hot and bothered, his other hand moving to skillfully pull his pants down and free his aching cock.

You see him touching himself and a smirk adorns your sinful face, gently scratching his scalp with your nails which earned you a whimper from him. “Go on, fuck yourself. We both know it wouldn’t fit that easily without proper prep,” Expression twisting into a cocky one, your grip on his hair tightened. “I’ll do as I please with your mouth until you’re done.”

Without waiting for his approval, you roughly shoved your cock deep down his throat and moaned loudly, throwing your head back. Jason gagged with a loud whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull and cum shot out from his throbbing cock, hips jutting forward and twitching due to the sudden orgasm. You chuckle lowly, amusement and lust glinting in your bright red eyes, before you pull back and ram on his throat again.

Jason’s cries and moans were muffled as you ruthlessly use his throat to gain pleasure. His mind has already turned into mush from your assaults, white cum and precum staining the floor yet he doesn’t put up a fight. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy that he is. He’s reached behind him to insert two fingers in his awaiting hole, walls clamping down on the digits from the arousal of his throat being utterly wrecked.

Yesyesyes, please. He chanted in his mind. Use me, mark me, cum in my throat, make me yours.

The moment you fulfilled your promise and delivered him the head of his enemy, he was already yours. It’s all he ever wanted. Unquenchable thirst that always gnawed on his throat and hunger that left his stomach restless, his soul practically teared in half from being battered and beaten. He matters now — mattered enough to you, that you went ahead and killed the source of his misery. The love exploding in his chest was almost unbearable; he was already high on cloud nine from the moment he’s seen you present the head so cheerfully.

You see how he looks up at you, emerald eyes almost displaying hearts with how much he was melting. He’s taken your murderous act as an affection, and you couldn’t be more happy, because it’s what you intended.

“Shit, baby… Gonna cum soon,” You panted, thrusting vigorously. Jason hums and flexes his throat to provide you more pleasure, making you tighten the grip on his hair. “You want me to cum down your throat?”

You earned a desperate whine from him, closing his eyes to prove he was waiting for it. His fingers kept their own assault on his prostate, scissoring and stretching the squishy walls, muffled moans escaping him.

God, he looked so fucking gorgeous. He’d look even more gorgeous with your dick ramming inside him.

Jason feels your big cock throb in his mouth and his fingers move more aggressively to pleasure himself, wanting to reach his high at the same time as you. Stimulating your tip with the back of his throat a few times, you moaned loudly with a curse when Jason slightly flicks his tongue over your sensitive underside, forcing an orgasm out of your body. White, thick, warm seeds spurt out from your slit to his awaiting throat as Jason whimpered in delight and shot another layer of cum on the wet stained floor, hips thrusting in the air.

He greedily swallows every drop that spilled down his mouth despite the euphoria making him feel dizzy as his body slightly trembles.

You chuckled, breathing heavily, pleased expression spread across your face. “Good boy. That was such a good throat-fuck.”

The raspy, sultry tone of your voice makes electricity and chills run through Jason’s spine as his walls clench down on his fingers, yearning to be filled. Jason certainly doesn’t have a womb — it’s anatomically impossible — yet he couldn’t help but feel like it’s there, waiting and aching to be fucked and bred. He needs your cum to be pushed so far inside him. Need to be marked entirely as yours inside and out. Need you to rearrange his guts, fuck his brains out, breed him full, then fuck your cum further back into him.

Jason pulled his fingers out, whimpering at the loss of contact, before looking back up at you with begging eyes. “Can you-?” His voice cracks as he swallows, “Take me apart, please. Make me yours, fuck, I wanna be yours.”

You noticed tears gathering in his eyes, as if being rejected of his want to be your possession would be an ultimate heartbreak in his life; a life-threatening, gnawing thorn in his heart that’ll tear him apart piece by piece and shredding his soul. Jason thinks he can’t live without becoming yours, his savior’s. He can’t live without the source of his safety, the man that fulfilled his silly little dream and sacrificed his own sanity for it.

It absolutely amuses you that he’s become so attached just because you’ve driven him away from harm’s way. A little dumb, but he was your little dumb doll.

You gently caress his face and Jason leans into your touch, making your lips curl upwards into a smile. “Of course, doll.”

It leads to Jason being pressed face first on the mattress as you rail him from behind, sinful and alluring noises leaving his lips stained in drool. Your name escapes him like a chanted prayer, hands gripping the sheets, electricity sparking within his mind that left him dumb and unable to think coherently.

“Fuh-fuck! mgh, ah- yes, oh my god—!” He cries out when you pulled almost entirely back and rammed your cock roughly into him, almost seeing stars in his vision.

The roughness in which you handled him, the perfect angle of your hips allowing you to force pleasure out of his body every-time you thrust, the way you push his back down on the mattress to make him arch more into your merciless tactic, leaves Jason absolutely delirious. You didn’t just fuck him good; you fucked him with absolute vigor and violence, occasionally biting strongly on his shoulder to draw blood, showcasing your natural instincts as a serial killer. He feels your big fucking dick throb and gets impossibly bigger inside him each time his blood seeps out the broken skin, and Jason’s head spins at how much it drove arousal in his core.

“Good fuckin’ sex toy,” You grunted, roughly slamming your hips against his and causing a sharp moan to erupt from Jason.

“B-big—! s’too big- fuck!” Jason whines, tears spilling endlessly down his cheeks.

You smirk as you feel your ego skyrocket at being able to reduce a rather muscular man into nothing but a whining, blabbering bitch. “Yeah? I do split you open, don’t I? But you love it since you’re such a fuckin’ slut.”

“oh- aghn! y-yours— hnngh! Your s-slut! No one else’s-!” He chokes out, desperately reaching for you behind him.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” You chuckled and grabbed his hand, pinning it back to the mattress as you hover over him. You seem to fit against each other perfectly well, your large and tall body able to encage him that left Jason’s stomach fluttering. He’s taken a lot liking of the fact you’re bigger than him, considering he’s never been the smaller one when he was with others. It gives him a sense of shelter.

“p-please— pleaseplease- oh! cum— fuck… cum in me again!” Jason blabbered.

You can’t help but comply to his request, fastening your pace and drilling more into him. Incoherent sentences spill from his drooling mouth when he feels your cock pulse within his walls that signified your soon release. There’s a purpose in which you thrust your hips now — more sharp and angled yet a little sloppy, aimed to brush against his prostate and make him feel utterly good.

“Shit… Cummin’, doll.” You grunted right in his ear before shoving him on the mattress by the back of his nape and slamming all the way down on his already gaping hole.

Jason nearly screams, voice cracking, as his orgasm hits like a strong tide of wave at the same time you spilled thick layer of white semen into his fucked out guts. You ride out your orgasm by thrusting slowly a few times as Jason’s body violently shakes from the aftershock. He subconsciously whines in annoyance when some of your previous cum seems to overflow and replaced by your recent one, bucking his hips as if to use your big cock as a plug to keep them all in. His belly felt full from how much you’ve been filling him with your seed yet it still didn’t feel enough. Jason wanted more; he knew you weren’t going full on him yet.

You swiftly turned him around on his back without pulling out and kissed him roughly. Jason mewls into the kiss when the position makes you push more deeper into him, his hands immediately clasping at the back of his thick thighs to pull them up and make it easier for you to fuck.

“My cute little thing,” You murmured against his lips and bit the skin to draw blood, Jason’s hole squeezing down on you from both the pain and pet name. He greedily whimpers your name, holding onto you for life and yearning for more of you despite already receiving what he wants.

It was so fucking adorable and arousing to see him desperate for not just you, but your entire being as well, willing to welcome such darkness with open arms and tearful smile. You weren’t really a desirable person; so many people have thrown themselves at you for your conventionally attractive features and masculine body type that swoons hundreds yet cower away in fear and speak of you in disgrace when shown the demons living inside of you. No one could seem to look past your murderous, cold-blooded psychopathy — some have attempted to, which only resulted in your darkness growing bigger when they break their own promises. You weren’t meant to be loved. Your destiny was written in the stars and the Gods have cursed you with eternity of living in loneliness and madness without cure. You were meant to be feared, a lonely and violent soul that couldn’t be tamed, your sole purpose of existence being a destroyer; nothing more or less.

Jason, however, seems indifferent to your fate.

Instead of running away in disgust and fear at your acts of violence around the city, he was seeking for you. He’s seen what you’ve done, what you could do without feeling remorse, what monsters lie beneath your existence — and still, he graciously opens his heart (and legs) for you. There’s love and desire within his eyes where distaste should be, touch so soft and warm it baptizes your tainted skin. You’re soaked in blood yet Jason takes his time with you to clean them up. Born with thorns yet he willingly prickles his fingers on them.

You’re a danger everywhere you go, but to him, you were home.

It makes your heart clench; he’s broken the Gods curse and it costs him his freedom, because now he’s caught up in your webs. You wouldn’t let him go, like a snake that’s wrapped itself around its prey in a death grip.

Jason wanted to be yours. What better ways to fulfill his wish if not possessing his body, soul, and spirit?

“Sweet dumb thing,” You purred, hips thrusting slow and sensual, unable to forgive parts of his walls that weren’t touched by your cum. “Mine to fuck, ruin, or make love to. That’s right, yeah?”

Jason nods, moaning softly. Your hands now replaced where his were on the back of his thighs, bending him almost in half as you roll your hips to gently brush against every weak spot he has. The sudden shift in rhythm and atmosphere confuses Jason for a bit, his fogged mind unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but the intimacy strikes a further pleasure that was nearly mind-breaking. He’s been reduced to a moaning mess, blood, sweat, tears and cum coating his body.

“p-please,” Jason keened, like it felt agonizing to be loved ever so gently. “I— ah… I want- I want you,” He stuttered out between moans.

“You’re having me, aren’t you?” Replying, you nipped on his neck and sucked, leaving behind a purple bruise.

He nearly cries, shaking his head. A waterfall of tears streamed down his face, and you find yourself captivated by them. It was almost ethereal despite being one of human’s responses to most things imaginable; your victims always shed one or two accompanied by begs of mercy, but all you’ve ever thought of them was amusing. It’s been used as an escaping tactic from you before, which was never successful due to your lack of morality and sympathy towards your target. They were pathetic, but Jason was divine. Tears suited him— not tears of fear, but tears of pleasure and utopia.

Your focus snaps back on reality when Jason suddenly pulled you down by the nape and bit down hard on your shoulder. A pleasured groan leaves your lips at the pain, hips bucking, making him whimper.

“Jason—”

“Please,” He cuts you off and finally murmurs; “Wanna f-feel how… mhm-! how you actually love…”

It strikes something in your core. Despite your perfect skills of hiding your true nature and never being caught, Jason saw it right through you, how you were holding yourself back for his sake. Quite ironic to witness a cold-blooded killer care for someone enough to go soft, even though it looked like you were going rough on him, and it warmed Jason’s heart. But he was a greedy, fucked up human being who wanted all of you. It wouldn’t be enough until he knows he’s taken you fully.

An amused laughter erupts from your chest. Eyes darkening in lust, Jason feels one of your hands wrap around his throat warningly as the other pushed his torso flat down on the mattress. “You… You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Todd.”

You pull all the way back before ramming in, making Jason let out a loud, choked up moan as his eyes rolled back into his head. Your thrusts relentless and powerful, slamming against Jason’s body with an intensity that made his head spin, your hand holding his throat as a leverage. Your name spills from his lips like a prayer, something that seems to ignite a possessive feeling within you. Jason can’t help but mewl when your grip tightened on his arteries, throwing his head back to let you gain fully control.

The way he’s so obedient and putty in your hands despite knowing you can kill him if you truly meant to makes you love him even more, fucking him and taking away his ability to breathe wasn’t enough. Greediness turning overboard with the darkness and psychopathy that lies within your existence; you almost wanted to cut him open and crawl inside his guts so you could truly claim Jason, inside and out. You wanted to be more closer to him, see how far you can go without Jason pushing you away or getting disturbed.

Jason’s eyes widened when a cold metallic silver touched his cheek, seeing you holding your signature knife through blurred vision from his tears. However, he doesn’t flinch away like you expected him to, instead his walls squeezes down on your cock and his own twitched against his stomach. The unexpected reaction pulls a loud groan out of you, your hips bucking.

“Shit, Jay… You lettin’ me kill you or somethin’? Good fucking cunt just tightened on me,” You rasped, thrusting your cock against his prostate.

Jason gasps, his hands grabbing the mattress and holding it in a tight grip. It’s so shameful how turned on he was at the danger that lurked around you, his usually sharp instincts relinquished to be replaced by naiveté and stupidity for love. He must’ve gone insane; getting killed was one of his triggers because of his past yet his soul yielded nothing in retaliation to the possibility of your blade slicing through him. All of him seems to have come to love and trust you too much just because you’ve decapitated the beast his entire existence feared, which a part of him found utterly ridiculous and idiotic, but not enough to stop.

He wouldn’t stop himself from loving you — not when you’ve given him the love he always yearned for.

You lean in and ghost your lips over his as you dragged the knife on his torso, lightly scraping him. Jason’s breath quickens, his pupils blown wide in lust and need, anticipation seemingly running through his body as his moans turned into desperate whines.

“p-please…!” He chokes out a whisper, rolling his head to the side and whimpering when you snapped your hips warningly on his. “feels— fuck! feels g-good—! c-carve me… hngh! carve me u-up-! shit… make me fuckin’ bleed…! please,” Jason nearly cries for you.

Groaning out a curse, you reflexively bite down hard on the crook of his neck and push more of your cock inside him, causing a loud keen to erupt from Jason as he squirms and cums on his own stomach at the addictive sense of pleasure and pain shooting through his body.

You licked the blood that seeped out from his skin, satisfied at the clear bite mark you’ve left visible before sensually grinding your hips. Jason whimpered quietly, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“That’s it, doll. Let go, feel good. m’not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. It’ll all feel good,” Whispering sweet words, you slowly press the tip of the knife just above the v line of his hip and drag it down. Jason hissed at the prickle of pain and tensed up, but the pleasure of your cock stimulating his sensitive walls was too great that forced him to relax. “It’s alright, doll. Jus’ carving you up with my name, so you’ll be mine forever. Isn’t that what you want? Be fuckin’ mine?”

Jason moaned softly, nodding his head. Series of pleasepleaseplease blabber out of him accompanied by heavenly noises he’s been making since you started taking him apart, his brain too fucked out that forcibly twisted pain into pleasure as all he could think about was becoming yours. You, his savior, his God, claiming him by marking him up with your name. Jason feels like he could fucking squirt from just that thought alone.

His blood seeping out from the letters of your name arouses you to no end, your cock throbbing inside him while you continue to move, the darkness within you being thoroughly fed of its bloodthirsty hunger. This is the first time it doesn’t gnaw at your skin to drive your knife deeper, pull the guts out, and splatter redness everywhere; instead, it wanted to be gentle, as if Jason was a significant existence too precious to hurt even for the Devil. A proof that Jason was always meant to be yours, the only one who the monster inside you would rather love than kill.

Carving the last letter, you laughed breathlessly in satisfaction and stabbed the knife on the headboard before slamming your lips against his, devouring his pleasurable noises. Jason whines, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer, arching his back when you switched into a much faster and rougher pace.

“Cummin’, fuck!” You grunted, to which Jason wrapped his legs around your hips to make sure it stays in.

“I-in— in me… fuck- oh my god— please… please, cum in me. Make me full again, p-please…” He begs, clenching his walls around you to push you over the edge, his own orgasm nearing.

Seeing him covered in his own tears, sweat, blood and drool fills you with nothing but pure ecstasy knowing it’s all because of you. The most appealing, ravishing man being a slutty mess right beneath you, begging to be bred and full of your cum, does feed too much into your ego. No one can do anything to take you away from him now, because you’re wrapped around his fingers as much as he is around yours.

“Anythin’ for ya, doll.” You chuckled, thrusting a couple more times before shoving your twitching cock deep into his guts with a moan and releasing your load. Jason mewls, his hole throbbing and squeezing down on you as he throws his head back, tainting his abdomen once more.

Riding out both of your highs, you let out a raspy groan and kissed his lips again, Jason weakly reciprocating due to the overstimulation. His body trembled hard, mind almost shutting down from the exhaustion and too much euphoria. “So good, doll. Took me like a good fuckin’ boy. Fuckin’ amazing.” You praised.

Jason could still see darkness in your eyes, the murderous devil, but there’s a hint of happiness he didn’t recognize before. Love and adoration filled your expression despite the violence engraved in your soul, and Jason finds himself smiling against your lips lightheadedly.

He whispers your name like a forbidden secret, then a curse that completely binds you to him; “I love you.”

You could get used to this, you suppose. There’s nothing more poetic than violence meeting love — two opposites can’t coexist with each other, but perhaps it’ll be forced to. After all, the Devil in you decided he was an untouchable divinity no one shall ever harm, not even yourself, despite its never-ending monstrosity towards humanity.

“I love you too, my Jason.”

When Joker’s decapitated head on a makeshift spear turned up that night, stacked upright in front of Arkham Asylum with blood splattered across the ground in words ‘True Justice for the Tortured Souls’ and a bloody ghostface mask laid aside for everyone else to see, Jason knew he was now in safe hands.

People say, never make a deal with the devil.

They never said he couldn’t love one, did they?

© all rights reserved to hadesrise ──── stealing, plagiarizing, or using my works for monetary gain is strictly prohibited. ask permission before reposting or translating.

[pinkhairswagtourney]

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you've probably already seen a few of my posts floating around. in case you haven't, long story short; i lost my job several months ago and haven't been able to find another one willing to make accommodations for my disabilities. i have diabetes and need insulin every day to survive -- the price of that, along with my other medical necessities (medication, doctor copays, etc), makes simply existing very difficult. i've been relying on commission money and the generosity of others just to survive.

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[quarterlifekitty]

am so late but medieval fantasy with arranged marriage/wrong bride trope and a "supposedly" cold duke who found out that their wife/partner's family is toxic and how DARE they make their beloved life's hell aaaaa

I LOVE the trope of like arranged marriage to super fucking scary guy but then it’s actually soooo easy to get him pussywhipped. At first I thought of this for ghost but PSYCH you ghost hoes because it’s Nikolai time tbh

cw: arranged marriage, allusions to abuse

Duke Nikolai is getting married, so it is whispered, purely for two reasons: legitimacy and heirs. He’s known far and wide for some less than savory reasons, and he was not born into nobility— his service to the kingdom has seen him be granted wealth and land quickly. While a marriage to him would grant greater wealth and stability, it would be considered something akin to social suicide.

Enter you, a lady of noble birth and some small renown. Only child of a rapidly declining house, finding you a match is the only way to save your family from complete destitution.

You have had a weak constitution for most of your life, and as such have lived in isolation. You’ve received almost no socialization, a cowering thing with no poise or dignity to speak of. You are, in a word, unmarriageable by noble standards.

It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement born from desperation on both sides. You’re engaged without even having met, your first meeting at the altar. Your handmaiden tries not to cry as she prepares you to wed the dark head of such an unsavory house— she’s heard every rumor, and fears for what will happen when she can no longer accompany you.

Nikolai cannot help but be amused by how you tremble against his hold. He sees you as a frightened doe. At the reception, he pulls you into his lap and rubs a thumb into your hip as he holds you, settling your frayed nerves.

The trend continues in your wedding bed when he keeps your back to his chest and has you come apart on his fingers before giving you his tongue, despite your protests about properness. But that’s what happens when you marry an uncouth commoner who’s made a name for himself in brothels across the continent instead of some high-born pup who’d be content to have you bleed on his sheets for the three minutes it would take him to cum and fall asleep.

Before, Nikolai saw this marriage as a union in name only. You’d have your dalliances with whatever stableboy or neighboring lord you pleased, while he chased the skirts of maids and tavern women. But when he has you tucked against him that first night, he gets the strange feeling that the bond you’re forging is one that can’t be traded or ignored. That there’s something to this… matrimony thing.

You’re still a bit fearful of him. He understands. You’ve been raised to think of your husband as the master, the one who decides your fate and keeps your bones unbroken as an act of generosity. But what he cannot stand is the flinching.

Your parents and teachers tried no small number of ways to try to make you an attractive, upstanding lady, you admitted— not angry at their methods, but ashamed at how they hadn’t worked. And he burned inside— a feeling not felt when a woman is your wife in name only.

Don’t worry, lanyashka. He has enough anger for the both of you.

[konigsblog]

Arranged married with Loser!König because his parents are convinced he'll die alone, employing you as his beloved wife. :(

Totally pushy and desperate... Doesn't understand a single thing about relationships and finds himself overly protective over you, controlling your every move! No contact with male friends or family members, he's supposed to be the only man in your life.

He's so manipulative and toxic, and you don't have much of a say considering his parents continue to pay you for your generosity, and you wouldn't dare turn down the large sum of cash they offer you.

[natalyarose]

𝒥𝓊𝓅𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒩𝒶𝓀𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓈 & 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈 🧞✨💐✩

I've always thought Jupiter ruled Nakshatras (Punarvasu, Vishakha, & Purvabhadprada) to be veryy magical with their themes of limitlessness, expansion, sheer spiritual abundance & power. I'm not sure if it has been talked about before, but something that always comes to mind when I envision Jupiterian Nakshatras or meet heavily Jupiter influenced people, is the concept of genies.

Jupiter's abundance and endlessly giving nature is known to be a blessing and a curse. A Jupiterian can be the sweet, generous, selfless friend who is there when you need them; providing you endless support, refuge & material generosity.

The dark side of this inherently generous 'wish-fulfilling' nature of Jupiter Nakshatras, is the possibility that they enable dark behaviours in others & themselves. Always saying yes, always being available and endlessly giving to the wrong type of cause or person, can make you complicit in the crime so to speak, even if the intention is simply to give, or give chances (Punarvasu's themes of second chances, 'return to the light'). Jupiter Nakshatras entail hugeee lessons regarding purpose (Vishakha, 'the Star of Purpose') & being intentional and wise as to how you use your power and influence (the infamous test of character in Purvabhadrapada 'the man with two faces').

These Jupiterian themes have always made me think of genies- wish fulfilling creatures who are inherently unable to say no to the wishes uttered to them. Having to just sit and watch people wish for dreadful things and just go... 'as you wish'. Obviously in real life, there really is a choice not to feed into others' and ones own toxic patterns but with Jupiterians, the urge to give, to be constantly available to others, can almost feel like it's not a choice. It's energetically intertwined in their make-up.

I would love to gather more examples, but it's 3am here and this was a bit of a spur of the moment thing I had to get out haha- I looked into a few of the most prominent 'genie' roles in movies and as I suspected, every single one features an actor/actress with strong Jupiter influence.

Jeannie from 60s sitcom 'I dream of Jeannie' - actress, Barbara Eden has Punarvasu Ascendant

Kazaam from 90s comedic film 'Kazaam' - actor/basketball player Shaquille O'Neal has Purvabhadrapada Sun

Genie from Disney's Aladdin - played in the live action movie by Will Smith, Vishakha Moon.

This genie theme really makes me think of all of the Jupiterian Nakshatras, but Vishakha especially. A friend of mine who is a Vishakha stellium always tells me about how it is said that Vishakha has the ability to generate 'instant karma'. So Vishakha natives to an extent greater than other Nakshatras will receive the raw manifested result of their thoughts/actions veryy quickly. Much like a genie granting instant wishes.

I was going to mention also that the whole genie archetype also reminds me of Rohini a bit- the wish-fulfilling aspect, the element of fulfilling desires without shame/inhibition. It's a little different in nature, but Rohini Nakshatra's got a similar theme where the native is incredibly nurturing of who or what sets their heart on fire, sometimes to a fault. Rohini is capable of immense growth but can forgo morality/practicality for the sake of immersion in the process of creation & sparking joy. Rohini's philosophy is something along the lines of 'let go of judgement because judgement inhibits creation and disrupts purity'. This is very true, but of course as humans on the divided and dense Earthly plane, we know that having a sense of judgement & boundaries is also important.

That was very wordy, but hopefully y'all see what I'm getting at lol. Although I'm more inclined to associate Rohini with wise old wizard dudes with cool beards & mad but genius scientists lol.

Back to Jupiterians-

I believe that Jupiter Nakshatra's 'remedy' is to eventually realise that they are not a slave to their giving nature, and the power lies in them to decide, & give only to a person, dream, goal or cause that truly is aligned with their own soul's path. Break free from the shackles lol- with wisdom hopefully. Without that element of wisdom, Jupiter can run wild with that discovered power.

Jupiterians struggling with discernment is why Jupiter Nakshatras oppose Venusian Nakshatras (Bharani opposes Vishakha; Purvaphalguni opposes Purvabhadrapada; Purvashadha opposes Punarvasu). Venus masters the fine art of 'necessary cruelty' sometimes ya gotta rip out the weeds, warn off the pigeons and trim the rose bush to make your garden a beautiful, pleasant, luxurious place. Jupiter can struggle with this, instinctively wanting to be a safe space for everyone and everything.

Jupiter ruled Nakshatras also partially oppose Solar Nakshatras (Krittika, Uttaraphalguni & Uttarashadha) illustrating the Jupiterian struggle with putting oneself first. Solar Nakshatras keep their energy strong and vibrantly resounding at their core; wheras Jupiter Nakshatras are kinda messy with their energy (lol, not necessarily in a bad way)- they disperse their energy everywhere, giving & giving. Both Solar & Jupiter Nakshatras deal with themes of limitless reserves energy, but in opposite, contrasting ways.

There's so much I could write about Jupiterians, I love Jupiter energy very much. I really love all of the Nakshatras lol, I mean how could you not? Every Nakshatra holds teachings that are integral to making the world a better place 💕🪷

Thankyou for reading!

[lilianasgrimoire]

Herbs & Correspondences A-F

This is going to be a looonnnnnggg post, I have gotten all the herbs I can find/remember the correspondences of herbs in alphabetical order, so I might actually break it down into sections and link them on each post at the top.

Acorn - Good luck, personal power, protection and wisdom. Dried acorns are a natural amulet for youthfulness. Associated with Litha. Element water. 

Agrimony - Shielding and hex-breaking, aids sleep, brings luck towards you and is powerful in spell reversal.  Element Air. 

Alder - Helps you to face up to things you are avoiding, divination, teaching especially anything arty and weather magic. Element Fire. 

Alfalfa - Money, prosperity and a happy home, also anti-hunger. Generosity and luck.  Element Earth. 

Allspice - Draws money and business success.  Aids compassion, luck and healing. Element Fire.   

Angelica - Also called Archangel. It is a very powerful protection herb, healing, creates harmony and courage and helps in exorcisms.  Aids vision. Element Air. 

Apple - Garden magic, love, healing and wisdom, also vanity, marriage and beauty. Associated Mabon & Samhain. Element water. 

Ash - Spells relating to the sea, protection, and luck. Make your Yule log from ash and burn to bring prosperity. Yggdrasil was an Ash tree.  Element water. 

Basil - Also called witch's herb. Use in spells for Love, exorcism, wealth, sympathy, and protection. Associated with Imbolc. Aids astral projection. Element Fire. 

Bay Leaf - Protection, success, purification, strength, wisdom and healing, also increases psychic powers. Element Fire. 

Beech - Happiness, inspiration and divination. Represents the Green Man.  Element Air. 

Belladonna - Also Called: Deadly Nightshade. Toxic. Use for forgetting past loves. Protection, beauty and original flying ointments. Adds energy to rituals.   Element Water. 

Benzoin - Purification, prosperity, and helps to soothe tension by dispelling anger and lessening irritability, de stressing, helps depression, concentration and astral projection. Element Air.  

Bergamot - Money, prosperity and sleep.  Protects from both evil and illness. Good luck and wealth. Increases magical power.  Element Fire.  

Birch - Protection, exorcism and purification. Dispels lightning, infertility, and the evil eye. Associated with Yule. Element Water.  

Black Pepper - Banishing negativity, exorcism, and offers protection and help with inner strength.  Element Fire  

Blackthorn - Exorcisms, warding off negative spirits and general protection.  Associated with Samhain. Element Earth.  

Bladderwrack - Protection, sea and wind spells, attracts money, psychic powers, and customers to your business. Element Water. 

Blessed Thistle - or Holy Thistle. Purification, protection against negativity and evil, hex breaking and aids vitality.  Carry on you for strength and protection. Element Earth. 

Blueberry - Protection of children, keeps evil out, and strengthens the aura.  Associated with the Great Spirit. Element Water. 

Borage Flower - Self Courage, peace, calm, self-love and strength. Element Air. 

Burdock - Also called Beggar’s buttons. Used for cleansing magic and warding off negativity. Protection, healing and persistence spells.  Element Water.  

Calendula - Also called Marigold. It attracts success and justice in legal matters. Increases psychic/spiritual powers and aid prophetic dreams. Dispels negativity.  Element Fire.   

Cardamom - Lust, love, and fidelity. Sweetens the personality   Use in handfasting's. Element Water.  

Carnation - Protection, strength, healing, enhancing magical powers, and achieving balance.   Element Fire.  

Catnip - Also called Nepeta. Use when working with animals.  Draws love, luck and happiness, also used in beauty magic.  Associated with Bast. Element Water. 

Cedarwood - Luck, strength and power.  It helps increase money and protection. Also healing.    Associated with Mabon. Element Earth. 

Cedar Berries - Also Called: Juniper Berries.  Protective, cleansing and repels negativity very well. Used in healing rites.  Element Fire.  

Celandine - Cures depression, treats piles, improves circulation. Brings about Joy and happiness. Solar Magic.  Element Fire. 

Chamomile - Love, sleep, protection and purification, also reduce stress.  Use for meditation work and to attract money. Solar Magic. Element Water. 

Chervil - Helps healing, flatulence and superstition.  It is considered the herb for bringing in new life.  Element Water.  

Chickweed - Also called Witches Grass. Use in moon spells. Also good for animal magic, relationships, love and fertility. Element Water.  

Chili - Fidelity, love and passion.  Also hex breaking. Element Fire.  

Cinnamon - Also called Sweet Wood. Use for Solar magic.  Meditation and astral projection. Increases spirituality, success, healing, protection, power, luck, strength, and prosperity. Element Fire.  

Clover, Red - Also called Trefoil. used in any spells relating to marriage, love, lust and fidelity. Success is linked to money.  Element Air.  

Clove - Use to protect, banish negative forces, and divination.  It also helps with any teeth spells. Aids money and draws love.  Element Fire.  

Coltsfoot - Aids wealth.  Works with peace, tranquility, prosperity, and love. Associated with Brighid. Element Water. 

Comfrey - Also called Slippery Root.  Supports magic healing and safe travel. Use for money, endurance and stability spells. Element Water. 

Coriander - Love, lust and health.  Used as an aphrodisiac and to heal migraines. Brings peace & protection to the home. Element Fire.   

Cornflower - Used primarily as an Ink for your Book of Shadows. It is the patron herb of herbalists. Use in rituals to give honor to the mother of all nature, also connected to Rainbow and Crystal children.  Element Earth. 

Cumin - Fidelity, protection, and exorcism.  Also used in love spells and food which can also promote fidelity.  Element Earth   

Cypress - Associated with death and mourning; stimulates healing and helps overcome the pain of loss.  Other properties include self-esteem, protection, love and banishing nightmares. Element Earth. 

Damiana - Lust, sex magic and attracting love. It is thought to be an aphrodisiac. Use for astral projection and spirit quests.  Element Fire. 

Dandelion Leaf - Used to summon spirits, make wishes on, healing, purification and defeating negativity.  Element Air.  

Dandelion Root - Magical uses include divination, wishes and calling spirits. It also enhances dreams and works well in astral projection. Element Air. 

Dock Root- (Yellow). Used to release baggage no longer needed. Also, fertility, healing and money magic. Clears blockages and cuts bindings.  Solar Magic. Element Air. 

Echinacea - Adds a boost to clairvoyant and psychic abilities. Adds powerful strength to spells used in money drawing magic, fertility and abundance and provides the user with protective power. Element Earth. 

Elder Tree - Sleep, releasing enchantments, protection against negativity, banishing. 

Elderflower & Berry - Peace, protection, and healing, plus aids in exorcisms.  Element Water.  

Elm - Energizes the mind and balances the heart. Aids love spells and offer protection from lightning. Element Water. 

Evening Primrose - Ideal for moon magic. Also use in love charms and to attract fae.  Element Water.  

Eyebright - Increases mental power, psychic ability and inner vision.  Element Air.  

Fennel Seed - Helps with meditation.  Healing, purifying and protection.  Also linked with new motherhood and offers inner strength. Element Air.  

Feverfew - Aids poor health.  Protection against accidents when travelling and protection when working with spirit.  Carry on you for inner strength. Element Water. 

Flax Seed - Also called Linseed. Used for money spells and healing rituals. It helps with beautiful spells and offers protection.  Element Fire. 

Fleawort - Healing, Cleansing, strength and power. The Goddess' herbs. Element Earth. 

Frankincense Resin - Use in solar magic. Associated with Beltane, Lammas, and Yule. Use in rituals and magic associated with self-control, spirituality and protection.  Also regulates emotions and helps depression. Element Earth  

Fumitory - Associated with the underworld and used at Samhain. Linked to spells for monetary gain, consecration and protection. Element Earth.  

[queers-gambit]

You Might Think It's Foolish

prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby collection masterlist: Poisoned Apple

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.

Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.

The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.

Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.

"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."

"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.

"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."

"We were busy."

"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.

"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."

You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.

"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."

"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.

"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."

"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.

The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.

And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.

However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.

First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.

When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.

Though they say opposites attract.

Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.

There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.

It was a sensory overload.

It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.

You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.

You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.

Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.

Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.

When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"

"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."

She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."

You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"

"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."

Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."

"No?" She mocked.

"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."

"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"

You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."

"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"

How had it come to this?

"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."

But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."

Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.

There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.

If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.

You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.

It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "

Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."

"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "

"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."

You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."

Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.

"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.

"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."

"Aegon," Daeron groaned.

"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"

Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.

Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.

"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."

"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.

"Listen to me - "

"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"

"What?"

"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"

You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.

You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?

Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.

You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.

"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.

"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.

"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."

"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"

"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"

She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."

"I don't want to."

"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"

"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."

"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"

You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"

"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

Poisoned Apple collection masterlist

[whetstonefires]

Honestly the most interesting thing about the Jiang interpersonal dynamics that is being totally slept on is how Jiang Fengmian's power as head of the family affects everyone, including him.

Yu Ziyuan knows Jiang Fengmian won't use his power against her unless he feels like he needs to, and that he doesn't fear her and isn't going to feel like he needs to act in self-defense unless she attempts significant physical harm, so short of that she can do whatever she likes against him, and he won't resist.

But if the collateral damage to the kids of her verbal attacks on him goes above a certain level, he says one word and she stops.

He just goes, 'wife.' ('My lady' but it's just a polite term for wife.) Sort of disapproving. Same kind of way he talks to Jiang Cheng when he acts like a shithead, but without the subsequent attempt at an ethics lesson.

And bam. Momentum halted. That line of attack is out of bounds. Nobody likes this, but good god it works.

And because they both know he ultimately has all the power, that Yu Ziyuan's lifestyle of privacy and doing exactly as she pleases at all times and so forth is all something that exists by Jiang Fengmian's generosity and sufferance, and she hates it, and he's not comfortable with it either, he sets that boundary really high, and she gets away with all kinds of cruelty because it's all stuff she's strictly allowed to do, entitled to do. So he'd be abusing his authority over her, by constraining her right to exercise her power within normative bounds over the people she outranks.

Even if she's using it harmfully and in a way directed by spite, these are her rights, she's not technically abusing her power, and her primary target in all the episodes he actually witnesses is him who outranks her; she's not being one of those mistresses.

So he'd be overstepping if he tried to constrain her, he'd be one of those husbands. Just like she always accuses him of.

(This is why she keeps insisting that she's also the master of jiang sect and he's 'forgetting' that in contexts where it doesn't make a huge amount of sense.)

Anyway, the fact that it's impossible to unpick where Jiang Fengmian's moral principles stop and his conflict-avoidance kicks in with this relationship is so much more interesting than the weirdly sexist readings I keep seeing, where it's all the conflict-avoidance and he's an unmanly loser who lets Yu Ziyuan bully him and his kids without ever standing up to her, for no good reason. When actually they have a really interesting and fantastically realistic toxic relationship.

He has a good reason! His reason is he's uncomfortable with the patriarchy! And guilty that his wife is miserable! And that he doesn't love her correctly! So he gives way as often as he can, trying to fix it!

But it doesn't fix it, because no amount of giving in to her gives her cause to trust him, and if she doesn't trust him and she knows that if he actually cares about an issue her ability to get her way will disappear, she can't feel secure about any of it. And therefore everything, especially Wei Wuxian the symbol of that fact, makes her angry and Want To Punish.