#and the men in power in this society fucking hate them but there is a certain level of pride that comes from “taming” these witches

[comradekatara]

i read somewhere that, after the war, zuko at least hands hama over to the swt instead of keeping her in fire nation prisons 'till the end of her life. Which is nice, I think. But I'm also curious as to how that would work out.

Most notably: how do you think it'd go down if she were to meet Pakku? given they both have some sort of connection to kanna's life, the idea of them being forced to interact even once entertains me very much. like, old waterbending master pakku—white lotus member—who has grown up in a patriarchal society and actively forbidden women from training to fight, under the precedent they are somehow ontologically weaker, fragile, and belonging in the healing huts... THAT guy, meeting his former fiancé's old friend: (or current wife's if you go by canon, which, eugh) A woman who not only fought in the front lines but ended up becoming one of the most skilled, creative, and deadly waterbenders in history. How would he react when finding out that a woman came up with blood bending? How badly would Hama mind-fuck him?? Because I'm confident they'd hate each other's guts-- no way she'd tolerate him,,,

And on a similar note—how would Kanna feel upon reuniting wirh Hama and discovering what she put Katata through, in your opinion? Idk, I'm just full of puppetmaster thoughts today. Hama is incredibly interesting and I wish she wasn't handled so much like a Halloween Specisl creepy witch, (even though katara herself is handled and written pretty well in this episode, i think. but i digress.)

i mean obviously i think about this all the time. i personally think that zuko hands hama over to the swt upon katara's request, and she and aang personally deliver her on appa (sokka is not there, for the very deliberate reason that if he knew what they were doing he would very vocally disapprove). and so katara is sort of retraumatizing herself by doing this, but she also feels like it's necessary specifically because she needs to be able to look hama in the eye and tell her why they're not actually the same (especially now that she actually did bloodbend someone in cold blood). katara has the love and support and safety to step back from her anger and her pain and her grief and hang onto her own humanity and allow herself to be the bigger person even in moments of abject rage and acute trauma, and hama doesn't. hama is a victim of her circumstance, and that's part of what makes her so uniquely terrifying to katara, because katara has that same capacity to make people hurt, she has the same tools at her disposal, and she has the same justifications to exercise that power. but unlike hama, she hasn't actually been pushed past her limits. sometimes she can see the cliff's edge, and sometime she even teeters on the line, but hama was fully just shoved off without a parachute, and that's really what separates them above all. i think katara should be allowed to acknowledge that and forgive herself for that, even if hama doesn't directly apologize to her (although in my mind she does, and it's not enough, but it's also so much more than katara ever expected to hear). even if it is too late for hama, katara deserves to heal.

frankly, i don't really give a shit about pakku or his reaction to hama. i also don't actually think that he thinks woman are ontologically incapable of being talented waterbenders of whatever; he's a pretty worldly guy, the reason he clings to these traditions isn't born of the belief that they're grounded in logical evidence like sokka's is, it's because he believes in the preservation of a system that benefits and valorizes him. pakku thinks katara belongs in the healing huts because he comes from a culture that dictates that women belong in the healing huts. like, he might also subscribe to the bioessentialist logic that women are better healers and men are being fighters, but that honestly doesn't really matter, because (unlike sokka) his epiphany lies not in the fact that woman can fight, but in the fact that his role in upholding these systems has actively driven his loved ones away due to his cruelty. he decides to be kinder, to women and in general, because he realizes that being an asshole has negative consequences. but frankly, who cares what he thinks of hama. realizing that your sister tribe in the south deserves aid and protection after being subjected to a century of genocide is kind of too little too late imo. unlike katara, sokka, aang, or kanna, who can approach this situation from the perspective of being a genocide survivor who even remotely understands hama's trauma, pakku really has no place in this conversation to me.

as for kanna...... god. hama/kanna reunion is genuinely one of the most heart-wrenching concepts to me in all of atla. as a sidenote, hama/kanna fanfic goes so hard every time. there's a total of like 15 fanfics for them on ao3 (last i checked) but they're all sooooooo. fucking delicious. tide locked........... ugh. anyway. i cannot fathom kanna's reaction upon learning that her closest friend once upon a time is not only alive, but also a convicted felon, for crimes including but not limited to manipulating her granddaughter, violating her (and sokka's) bodily autonomy in cruel and perverse ways, and forcing her to participate in that mode of violence in a way that traumatized her forever. even if you don't read them as former lovers (although it is indubitably better that way) it's so gut-churning. kanna lost so many people over the course of her life, and to learn that one of them has returned but in the worst way possible must be mind-boggling and distinctly unreal. like how do you even process that. first, how do you process how much pain she must have went through to become the kind of person who is capable of doing this, and then, how do you process the knowledge that the person you once loved most in the world irreparably hurt the person you now love most in the world? obviously she would always prioritize katara's safety over anyone else's no matter what, but god. kanna has led such a fascinating and impossibly difficult life, and it's not over yet.

[jonathanrook]

okay so like. mymusic is about internalized transphobia. right. we can all agree on this. right.

like, i know that curtis's arc is meant to be allegorical for coming out as gay, but it makes a lot more sense for him to be trans, which means that the music genre(s) you like are akin to genders in this universe, or at least at mymusic.

following this logic, flowchart doesn't like music, making him nonbinary.

which two employees does indie resent the most? flowchart and nerdcore, both for their inability to conform to his rules of music taste gender. we know that indie puts a lot of effort into being a proper impassive hipster, which theoretically he shouldn't have to if that was truly who he was (not to mention that he does this to please his father, which, oof.) we also know that indie can envision himself becoming a nerd, which is specifically the subculture/stereotype most explicitly presented as being "trans."

[tarjapearce]

Poppy Blue

Blue Jones! Miguel x Baby Doll! Reader.

Art by @marbipa on x

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Power play, choking kink, rough sex, mentions of abuse, preying, toxic and perverted behavior, implicit clandestine and illegal activities, lobotomy, dissociation, implicit depersonalization, objectification, hate sex, manhandling, violence, sub space. No Proofread.

Summary: Messy things ~ (I guess?) Miguel as Blue Jones from Sucker Punch.

A/N: Watched Sucker Punch last night and... yeah. Had to get this out of my system. ~ Another one for the Miguelverse ~

Masterlist

All it took was a bullet. Aimed at your assailant with no intentions of missing. Yet you did. You missed, failed terribly so. His chest was your goal, instead it went directly to his shoulder.

Projectile ripping and scorching skin, tissue and muscle in the go, earning a shaky and pained yelp. But it was the least he deserved after trying to be sneaky on your sister, that laid cold and bled out in the floor. She was no match for his knife and his blood thirst of the night. The rest was a blur.

And now, you were dragged down to the wet and dull greys walls of your future home. Lennox House. Or rather Lennox Asylum for the Mentally Ill.

Everything about the place screamed danger, everything about the people working in the monstrosity of place yelled I'm no better.

Barefoot, soaked in rain, holding your new uniform and gazing at the biggest man you've seen in you life, holding a bunch of keys while his eyes bore into you.

The way he stared made your skin crawl and it didn't help your clothes clung to your body. Arms braced the uniform closer to your chest, trying to cover it up. His eyes wandered to the man behind you, a police officer with three scratched lines into his face. You hadn't left him unscathed. Not when he tried to play rough with you back at your old home.

The man showed you around, place was as depressing as it was from the outside, but The Theater took the prize.

Girls your age dressed in gray, socializing in the area. And by socializing it'd mean to watch them either receive therapy with a polish beautiful woman named Vera Gorski, or watch them fight over the stupidest things. But who could blame them?

Some probably had enough time inside that had memorized the cracks in the wall, the scratches on the floor, the number of chewed gums underneath the table or how many dust particles were accumulated in the windows. Gray. Everything was gray and dull.

Even the voice of the men behind you talking about a price for your silence were tiresome and dry. Two thousand. That's what your memories were valued as. A number you now hated.

Corrupt pigs

The police officer gave you a gentle push forward as a nurse came to fetch you. The simple touch of that man made your skin revolt and slapped him hard across his wilting face, a scowl on your grimace that slowly turned into a smirk as the police officer tried to catch you, but you were being dragged away by two nurses into a life that would turn your head upside down and backwards, the many times it saw fit until you'd understand that you weren't in charge.

Until you'd understand your purpose.

Dance.

"If you don't dance, you have no purpose."

Madam Gorski murmured to you. Pretty, dangerous and aware of the many many situations revolving in the brothel. Cause in truth, the asylum was just an alibi and a frontage for the real deal. House Lennox. A house of pleasure.

Bets, drinks, sex, meds and a hell of a show to anyone that filled Miguel's pockets.

The main attraction? Girls that society deemed unfit to keep within her picky guts. Too into messy situations to keep the pretense around relatives. Too fucked up to function properly but good enough to mold and shape into something useful, and too tempting to break even further.

She mumbled while circling you, her dark eyes scrutinized you unabashedly, taking in everything her sight could reach. Pursing her pouty lips upon your body.

Pretty, scared, still holding a grip on reality while trying to swallow a really hard to deglute pill, and oh so perfect for a new purpose.

"We do not keep things in here that serve no purpose."

The collide of her cane on the floor was like a metronome, setting the pace to enter a forbidden place, somewhere that none could reach but you. Mind splitting in two, dissociating soul from conscience, leaving an empty, moving vessel behind. You were free for a moment. And now you wanted more, more of that place where your imagination ran rampant.

Where Gorski's words meant nothing, where the guards had no power, where you were allowed to break down and feel without second intentions or being frowned upon. But mainly, without Miguel’s preying gaze licking you raw while undressing your form with it.

But the clapping and praising brought you back to this reality. Red eyes fell upon you, studying, raking over your body upside down, stopping at your thighs to then go back to your flushed and breathless face.

Mr. O'Hara. Miguel 'Blue' O'Hara. The asylum guard, the key bearer, perverted pimp, and your new shadow.

Ever since that dance many things changed.

Even though you danced, duties in the asylum weren't to be neglected. If you said no, you'd get a visit to the hole.

If you didn't dance, you'd get a visit to the hole.

But if you didn't do things Miguel's way, you'd get a personal talk with him, and then a visit to the hole.

And those talks, surely weren't words.

Scrubbing the floors gave you the chance to listen a bit of everything. Girl's derangements, psychotic outbreaks, mumblings that were filled in with regret and many more flourishing emotions; the ever loud music from the cook, and the unceasing mewls and obscene noises coming from Miguel's office.

Some girls misbehaved on purpose, just to get a taste of him. Others did anything to draw his attention to them, specially in the dance floor. But you knew better to anger him.

Sure, pleasure came in hand with a high price. He wasn't good, he wasn't nice nor gentle, matter-of-factly some girls cried during their one on one sessions and the degradation only enhanced the tears.

Sick fuck.

Gorski's alarms flared up upon seeing belt marks on their legs and ass, bites in their inner thighs and bruises on their hips. Eyes a bit too gone and tired to actually work in anything. They might have spread the gossip around of Miguel fucking them, and even enjoyed it.

But the aftermath of it, said otherwise. And it was enough to keep you on check, but even so he was pulled to you like a magnet so strong you could see the refrain in his eyes every time he approached you.

Hands shaky, tongue rubbing and wetting his plump lips, a soft flush on his cheeks and pleading eyes. A silent 'Let me play too' cause he wasn't allowed to touch, or taste you. Instead, he'd use the girls willing to please him to take his anger out. Their bodies meant nothing, they meant nothing cause they weren't you.

They didn't have your body, they didn't have your sweet voice that distorted into moans and gasps that he'd kill to induce every time you danced, but above all, they didn't have your spark.

That little interaction with the police when you first arrived, had him folding on a bathroom, stroking himself to oblivion at the mere sound of your slaps.

Unbeknownst to you, you held so much power over him. Power he was set to dull, because he was the only one in control. Not even Gorski and her stupid polish methods to get in the rest's head. He ran the place and had it under control.

For how long though?

You wanted out. His little Poppy wanted out and surely would get everything to be free and leave him, forsake him in this damned place.

Anger flowed within his veins like molten lava upon remembering how other men looked at you, how other men wanted you. They'd possibly been imagining how good and tight your insides would feel cause the way you moved when you were up in the stage, was surreal. It was like another person took over.

But he, a sick fuck through and through, would want both. No. He'd have both. He craved and needed both, even better when you were dressed in such things that only added more dry bones to his needy fire.

Fucking lucky of them to feel you and be a your second skin. Even that stupid and everything but innocent uniform you were to dress every day, stirring up enough to let him take a peek of your panties, or the stockings underneath that remained etched on your supple thighs he'd often fantasize in getting lost between.

He just had to wait for you to misbehave. But sadly you didn't seem keen into breaking the rules. He'd wait.

---

"Stormy, come."

Vera called another girl. Whoever gave their names either knew them too well or picked random words in a go. Gorski too engrossed into her lessons to notice you had been dragged away by other guards under Miguel's petition.

Had you forgotten about something? No. Surely not. Last week's chores were fulfilled completely, the bathrooms were clean, the kitchen's dishes turn were washed up, and so were the floors. Your wrists sore, a reminder to ask for a new brush.

And-

Shit.

Fuck.

The laundry.

Some dancers had ran out of stockings, lingerie, and some sheets from the brothel needed to be replaced ASAP.

But you, Poppy, as Vera had called you and it stuck with the rest ever since, had trouble. Just cause you had forgotten about the damn laundry.

Miguel's formidable frame came into view, he was on a call, lying on how well someone's daughter was doing after a lobotomy. How they didn't have to worry about her anymore.

Your stomach felt sick and your heart leaped on your chest once he ended up the call. The guards had been long gone, leaving you with your shadow alone.

If honest, you knew Miguel either followed or kept you watched under hawk's eyes. Time stopped as soon as he turned to face you.

Pupils wide blown as soon as you came into his sight.

"My sweet, sweet Poppy."

He inhaled deeply and clasped his hands together before his face. An uncontainable smirk morphed into a light titter.

"You've been a bad girl, princesa."

His hands slamming on the table before him made you jolt and blink at his sudden mood shift.

"We..." He wetted his lips as he came behind you, "We were counting on you, Mi cielo. But... you failed us. Failed me."

A gulp as his breath fanned over the crook of your neck.

"You see..." His big and long fingers brushing your hair away from the right side of your head joint, "Now I gotta improvise something for the next show. "

"I'm sorry, I forgot-"

His hand took a hold of your neck and the contact made him growl. Warm, smooth, feeling every heartbeat underneath his big and calloused palms.

Lips dangerously close to your ear, breathing and panting as he pulled you closer to him, your back colliding against his torso and abdomen.

"Shh"

He hushed while taking a big whiff off you. A mix of soap, perfume and cigarettes. His hand squeezed tighter, earning a lovely and sweet yelp from you as he pushed you against his desk.

Your eyes widened in surprise upon feeling the hardening cock in between the slot of your thighs, poking, begging to be released and finally take you.

"You remind me of someone. Too bad she lost her spark."

His hand riled the skirt of your uniform up, passing up some layers of extra clothing, your underwear and stockings. Hand plunged inside to finally allowing his fingers to have a sample of your flesh.

"But I'm keeping yours alight, sweetheart."

His cock twitched when he found your clit. Fingers dexterous and peeling the outer folds away to give a gentle rub before you closed your legs almost instantly. A little delaid reaction, your brain was still processing it.

You went completely still when he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips. He sucked them off with hunger, groaning and trembling at the taste.

"Por Dios, preciosa..."

You tried to pry his hand out of your neck but the struggle made his breathings more labored and needy as he humped and ground against you from behind. Letting his tip to speak volumes at how hard and wanton he was. How bad you made him react. How much power you had over him.

Of course.

The idea of having him subdued to you assaulted your mind. Pressuring you into pleading, just like your clit that clenched and twitched upon having his tip rubbing in a slow yet firm strokes.

His hands went back inside your panties, searching for the nub of nerves that had you melting. Tongue skimming at the tender skin of your neck.

Just as he was about to bury a finger knuckle deep, the ever annoying voice of Vera urging Miguel from outside the door, asking for you. Her dear and lovely Poppy.

"Chingada madre" (Fucking shit)

He sighed with an exasperated growl and looked at the door.

"The fuck you want?!"

"I need Poppy on the practice. Now."

Where was the shocking baton when he needed it the most?

For once, you were relieved to know that you didn't go unnoticed under Gorski's watch. She protected the girls in her own way.

Knees trembled as he kept the hand inside. A little miscalculation had you whimpering while his fingers remained trapped in your flesh. His eyes snapped back on you with a smirk.

A hand clasped on top of your mouth, suffocating any moans as he worked his fingers between your pussy. Touching and prodding at the forbidden flesh, a moan vibrated through his hand with a high pitched Hmm

"I'll get her to you right away!"

Miguel yelled while working his fingers harder and faster, alternating between rubbing and fucking your hole with them.

"Spread your legs wider, pretty baby" The husk of his voice made you close your eyes and hips hump ever shyly at his hands. Gaining as much friction as possible.

"Miguel, I need her now."

He grumbled under his breath while moving his hands faster. The wet smooch and sucking squelch had him humping against your panties, breaths agitated, muttering something you could only decipher as filth in spanish, your hands clenched onto him, tightly fisted on his clothes.

Just a bit more

He heard Vera cursing in her native tongue as he prodded his fingers inside, toying with your opening. Stretching and fucking it at his likings.

"You fucking little slut"

He tittered while rubbing furiously in your clit. A bit too rough that had you bucking and trembling in his arms. If his hands made you quiver and melt he couldn't wait to see what his cock could do. You drenched his fingers.

Said fingers were cleaned up again by his mouth with a droopy and pleasure drunk face.

Despite having your legs shaky, he held you by the hips, and forced you to grab onto his desk. His hands quickly fumbled with his pants and boxers, pulling his cock out.

He stroked a couple of times, tip susceptible to stimulation. He pulled the panties aside, your stockings the only barrier between you and his erection. The flimsy layer of clothes instantly adhered to your soaked skin, He pushed in between your thighs, rubbing his cock back and forth with slow thrust against your pussy. His hot length brushed against the already engorged and sensitive nub.

The tightness of your warm thighs smooshed together created the perfect friction hole for him without actually penetrating you. So close and yet so far of that forbidden territory. Soft mewls and whimpers came out your mouth, too enraptured in feeling than verbalizing your pleasure.

He also needed his toys. Specially his favorite. Stockings were thoroughly soaked the more he pushed his cock in and out. Labia clothed and slicked parted to feel his shallow moves. He used you as his fleshlight, his hips smacking yours. His chest rumbled with animalistic and low growls.

His hands were clumsy as the pleasure turned overwhelming, you could see the flushed tip of him peeking out your thighs, the urge of tasting him turned bigger the faster he went. You were trying so hard to keep it as quiet as possible.

"Wished I was inside you, don't you?"

You gasped as he purposely angled his tip in your dripping hole. A shivering breath was all he received.

He took you by your chin and squeezed

"Don't you?!"

"Y-Yes!"

"Yes, what?!"

"Yes, sir."

Jesus fucking Christ.

He pushed in deeper in your cunt, his cock pushed a bit of the stockings inside as he doused it with his cum, unable to hold back any longer, marking you.

You had never heard a man pant and wheeze like that before. So deep, raspy, needy, cradling you tighter, anchoring to you as he shook his orgasm out.

"Fuck- Ay Dios, fuckfuck-"

He slurred while engulfing your frame against the table. Breathings matching his erratic ones.

Your skin between supple thighs felt clammy and sticky. Black stockings ruined completely by the white and wet patch of his scent.

Hot breath fanned over your neck.

"Can't wait to feel the real de-"

The door banged.

"Boss! We need you!"

The guards and Vera had proposed to fuck around with him cause his patience had been tested many times.

Your steps marching away from him snapped him out of his thoughts, He blinked and held you by the wrist, pulling you once more to him to kiss you.

Your first kiss in years. Soft but needy and filled in with a promise to fulfill later.

Now that he had a taste, there was none to stop him. He'd take his favorite toy and go home.

----

Freedom was taken away from you, right before your eyes. Forsaken by your so called friends, marooned by the crew you had gathered within the depths of despair. Your hope had given them a chance at surviving, your courage had transformed you into a fucked up sisterhood, but it was their greed that made you the ultimate sacrifice to their success.

You could only watch while thrashing your way out, but the more you fought, the more guards came to you, but one in particular pulled you out of the mess like a feather. But you didn't stop fighting. Not even when your tabs were in absolute zero probabilities of winning, not when Miguel dragged you inside manhandling your crying form like a ragdoll.

Scratches, fists and other punches didn't move him in the slightest. His grip tightened once you both were locked up in his office once more. He tossed you on the floor.

"Why... Why did you want to leave?"

His tone menacing yet hurt.

The idea of you almost slipping away from him had sent him in a berserk mode that unleashed hellbent through the asylum. Just to find you and when he did, he wanted nothing but hurt you, just the way you've hurt him.

Wasn't his attention enough? , wasn't him being lenient on you and your chores enough? Wasn't he enough?

"WHY?!"

You were too dumbfounded to process his question. Too marked with shame at your failure and rage to pay him attention, and that alone sent him grabbing you by the neck and crash you against a vanity. Tossing everything above it to the floor.

Your back collided against the now shattered mirror, you yelped but still managed to slap him and that made him groan and nod frantically.

Yes

One of his hands was more than enough to hold your both arms as he positioned between your thighs, pressing further against you.

"You don't like me, Poppy? Why?"

"Let me go!"

His hand squeezed your neck tightly, cutting all air for a minute while he kissed you. Sloppy, angry and so full with lust and rage. It gave you no time to react while his other hand tore the panties from underneath your skirt.

You kept slapping him, but that only enticed him to spread you further

"Love that fucking spark on you, preciosa."

He then thrashed you against the table sending a painful jolt through your body, It made you still for a moment.

"No! No! Don't-" his eyes widened in panic, "Don't lose it. Please-"

"No" You panted, "Just found it" A flower vase was smashed in his forehead. And that granted you freedom from his hands as you fell on the floor, gasping for air and crawling away from him.

Heavy steps echoed, trailing dangerously after you. Miguel took you by the ankle and dragged you towards him.

"No!"

He hissed and pulled you upwards, like a statuette, and slammed your torso against the desk you had been clenching onto. All air knocked out your lungs.

A hand passed over his buckle and removed in a swift motion his belt in one go. The sight of your pussy peeking underneath the ruffles of your skirt made a smile that didn't reach his eyes to appear.

He quickly got the belt around your neck, your hands instantly pried, or at least tried to pry it away, scratching yourself in the process. The smell of copper filled in the air, the vase had broke the skin of his forehead.

"You fucking ungrateful bitch!"

He secured the belt tighter and you wheezed, hands flailed to get a hold of him. Fingers already prodding and toying with your cunt, to his surprise, the struggle and fight turned you on, knowing that a man wanted you so badly that would do anything to have you, and you denying such power had you soaked.

Specially when the man in question was this 6'9" cell guard that wanted nothing but to wreck you, destroy you the way you had destroyed his fucked up illusions.

"All I did for you, everything I did meant shit for you-"

He rasped before slapping your butt with such force it stung and left a red imprint on the now reddening flesh.

"I didn't... a-ask you for shit!"

He grunted at your broken words as he pulled the makeshift leash backwards, separated your legs and pulled out his cock once more.

"There we go, baby"

"Y-You're so pathetic-"

Words died in your throat as he slid inch by inch inside. The intrusion made you sob a feeble whimper, it burned and hurt, but in a way you weren't expecting and you liked it.

"Me? Pathetic? Ay muñeca, is not me whose gonna beg me to stop" He pulled your face towards him and kissed you once more, "You won't even remember your name once I'm done with you."

He buried to the hilt as he watched your expression. Troubled yet blissful. A little grip was loosened as he felt you were about to speak again.

"You talk too much shit-."

Part of you regretted said words, cause he smashed your head in the desk and dug his fingers around your hips.

"Is that so?"

Nothing had you prepared for the assailing onslaught of his hips. Fucking was a measly word compared to what he actually was doing to your poor and snug cunt.

It wasn't slapping, his hips thwacked yours with such force you were sure your cervix would be bruised and your legs wouldn't walk properly for the next few days, but as it hurt, it felt good. Too good for your own comfort. Specially when propped a leg ontop of a stool for more leverage to ruin you deeper.

A garbled moan came out your lips, before gritting your teeth together and shaking your head vehemently. He laughed in between deep growls and moans.

"Am I dulling that spark, muñeca?"

Your body lurched forwards, pussy drenched him with every remorseless push he delivered. Eyes struggling to keep on the front, but it was unavoidable to have them rolling back as your jaw slacked open.

High pitched wails rumbled out of your gaping mouth, permeating the once silent room. Two of his fingers slid in your mouth, hot breath colliding against them. They hooked forcing your mouth to keep open.

The desk shook under your weight, the room filled in with moans so sweet and delicious, unlike the many that had been under him.

You were experiencing first hand the danger. Miguel wasn't nice, he wasn't gentle. The latter made an emphasis on its own as he pulled the belt impossibly tighter. A gurgling and rasping noise came from your throat. He wasn't squeezing anymore, he was choking you.

And Dios mio, you were sure you'd die. But dying sounded way too much of a reward than staying in this awful place.

"Yes"

You hissed in between butchered pants and wheezing mewls. Mind set in welcoming the reaper as air was still cut out of your lungs. Legs too weak to keep on their own. Dizziness fogging your mind, fire engulfing your body, Your cunt slurped him in, wetness no longer an issue since he slid and out so easily.

The only indicator you still had consciousness was the little pathetic cries you did as his hips plowed you with a new intensity you didn't know possible.

He had been whispering the filthiest things into your ear, a couple of degrading words you couldn't quite hear, too busy being cock drunk and slipping in and out of consciousness.

Your torso and arms laid in between his arms and the desk, his upper body keeping you still as his hips did the whole assault. His face too snatched in a myriad of things.

Pride cause he finally got to have you and proved you wrong, lust cause you felt just like he had imagined, anger because of your previous words. He was the one that was rawing you into oblivion, had your brain turned upside down, not Gorski, and had you cumming with such an intensity it was overwhelming and too much for your brain to digest.

Too much.

The choking had your brain's fuse in a shortcut, shutting itself off for what it felt like forever, until he spilled himself inside. Renovating your walls white.

Hot cum spurted and not a single drop was wasted as he made sure you kept it inside.

His hulking figure trembled, torn in between subtle and violent spasms that shook him to his very core and raged pants that sent a shiver down your sore spine.

He finally had you and you were his. He wasn't letting you go. Not when he was about to give you a new purpose.

Being his.

---

Everything that he thought good and right blurred. Eyes filled in with tears at your state. Gone. Gone from this world, gone from him, the spark had vanished.

No

How this happened?

His mind raked through the memories, trying to find the right moment everything went to shit.

He signed a paper. A lobotomy authorization in your behalf.

No!, no!.

"Come back" He pleaded while kissing you and squeezing his hands on the joint of your head and shoulders, to pry something out of you. But nothing came.

The spark had been lost.

And so were you.

"Please, muñeca"

He sobbed and cradled you in his arms, but there was no push, no retaliation, nothing. Only a lovely vessel of his love.

You were gone. For real.

He had been so naive to believe that fucking you senseless meant to have you. He had been such a fool to fall for such a simple thing as that.

And now he had lost you. His own hand brought his demise. Guards and Gorski dragged him out, his hand latched on to you, but even your skin felt different.

"Poppy!"

He yelled but you didn't answer. Just watched him with a look that shattered his heart.

You were free. Free and far far away.

[megaderping]

I feel like when people compare Akechi to Light Yagami, they fundamentally misunderstand his character. Their similarities really end at their designs, and Light is the kind of person Akechi would despise. Light Yagami lives a pretty privileged life at the start of Death Note. He has a stable home, with two parents and a sister who care about him. He's a successful student. There isn't really inherent tragedy to his life. The whole reason he starts using the Death Note is a mix of curiosity and a jaded worldview, and when it works it empowers him, very quickly goes to his head, as he believes he is one who can be a god of a "new world" once the shock of his initial kills wears off. While his first kill was to help someone, that altruism didn't last. He is in charge of his choices, while Ryuk mostly vibes and maybe eggs him on a little. Fundamentally, Light has something Akechi lacks: agency, and a comfortable life he took for granted. Meanwhile, Akechi is someone who lived on the bottom rung of Japanese society. His very existence is shameful there, between his mother being a sex worker, his status as an illegitimate/"throw away" child, and his mother's suicide. Years languishing in a foster system that is notoriously inhumane, in a country where 90% of the adoptions are grown men for inheritance and patriarchal reasons, while very few children in the system find permanent homes. When Akechi awakens his power, he approaches Shido not because he wants to kill people but for a stupid revenge plan cooked up by a traumatized child who's been nudged along by a malevolent god. He wants to build Shido up so that at the height of his power, he can expose him for the monster he really is, while another part of him genuinely wants to be useful to Shido, as Cogkechi later calls out. His feelings are a mess of contradictions, and so it's no surprise that Shido was able to mold him into his assassin at only 15 years old. It's also worth noting that Akechi only approaches Shido with his ability to cause psychotic breakdowns. Shido is the one who teaches and instructs him to do shutdowns. He's still complicit, very sunk cost with his revenge plan, but as I spoke of here, even if he wanted to quit, he couldn't alone. Shido's cleaner and control of the law and ability to effortlessly turn him in would render the Metaverse his only safe haven. I think people look at 11/20 Akechi and Akechi in the early parts of the engine room and assume that's just his "true self," when in reality it's another mask. Royal makes it very clear because in Rank 7, he outright warns Joker of what's to come via a pool metaphor and offers an out (though he's MUCH happier if you don't take it/stick to your principles), and in Rank 8, he goes on that big "I hate you" speech... while Sunset Bridge is playing. Y'know, the song that plays at the end of most confidants to reaffirm bonds. So when he smiles as he shoots what he assumes to be Joker, that doesn't mean he's genuinely happy. More likely, he's an emotional clusterfuck, given he also is disoriented enough to namedrop "Shido-san" over the phone, and in the subsequent meeting with Shido, tells him not to kill the Phantom Thieves and that Morgana is "just a cat." Yes, he says they'll make them fear for the rest of their lives, but remember, he's talking to Shido. The things he says are likely all incredibly calculated to sound appealing to Shido. And when you consider that he planned to utterly destroy Shido's reputation after the election, the "delay" makes even more sense.

Later, Akechi goes on about how the people he induced shutdowns on were deserving of their fates, but I don't think he believes it so much as it's the only way he could convince himself that it was worth it, and given how much society failed him, and given how many of the people he targeted were likely rivals/competitors or rich fucks, I think he'd be less inclined to assume good faith. Kunikazu Okumura was not an innocent little victim, after all. He was one of the people who requested breakdowns and shutdowns the most. I think Akechi enjoyed killing him not because of how it'd hurt Haru, but because of catharsis. Because Okumura is just as monstrous as Shido, so why should he feel remorse? However, I don't believe he feels the same about Wakaba, as when he discusses her with Shido, he mentions how her fate was because she refused to willingly work for him. It's another justification, but I personally think Wakaba's death was the most painful for him because he was effectively making Futaba just like him. That's why I think his reaction to Sae threatening Sojiro's custody was genuine. Anyway, evil grinning Akechi is just another mask, as I said. Keep in mind, this is someone who laments not meeting Joker years ago, someone who Morgana outright points out is lying about his hatred. And that's the thing. Light Yagami, while a really fascinating character, is not someone who had all this childhood suffering or lack of agency. He does not regret his actions in the slightest and goes down due to his own hubris in both the anime and the manga. While you can argue that Ryuk set him up by dropping the Death Note, Light was the one who picked it up and chose to use it. Any nudging from Ryuk didn't coerce Light into doing it because Light seized the opportunity. No, if Light Yagami is like anyone in Persona 5, it's Masayoshi Shido, not Goro Akechi. Both believe they are god/god's chosen, that they are the ones who will reshape the world to their ideals, and to be frank, both use and abuse women to serve their own purposes. Goro Akechi goes down sacrificing himself for the Thieves and pleading with them to stop his father and again in Maruki's reality when he refuses to let Joker accept a gilded prison of a world for his sake when he knows better than anyone what it's like to have no true freedom. If you max his confidant, you see him in the postcredits, leaving his survival entirely possible, and I think it works because at the end of the day, Akechi was meant to be a victim and a foil. Light is a villain protagonist and a cautionary tale. Though its his POV we follow, he isn't someone we're meant to root for, but I definitely don't think enjoying the character is a bad thing at all. He's really interesting! I just think that a lot of the Akechi and Light comparisons are surface level at best.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Nightwing & Shadow 🌃

⚣🌃 A/N → So, remember when I said I wasn't going to re-write and re-vamp Nightwing and Shadow like I did Primal? Hehe, funny story... I lied. HOWEVER, I did follow the original plot line...sort of. Just made it easier and smoother to read, along with SOME proofreading and fixing SOME grammar mistakes. So, this should roll out much faster than before (that also is possibly a lie knowing me). WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | MAJOR THEMES of NON-CON/DUB-CON | Omegaverse | YANDERE Behavior | Mentions of Blood | Bondage | Lactation Kink | M-Preg | Oral Sex | Knotting | Implied Stalking |

⚣🌃 Summary → A new vigilante, Shadow, takes to the streets of Gotham, protecting its innocent Omegas against arrogant and brutish Alphas and the arbitrary and oppressive laws that support their criminal-like behavior. Yet, what will he do when in both his civilian and vigilante lives, he's plagued by the very same problems he's fighting against?

⚣🌃 Words → 11.1K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 🌃

Welcome to Gotham City.

Known for its less-than-sunny atmosphere and crime-riddled streets, the city holds many titles under its mantle. One of them being ‘Utter Hell for Omegas.’

In the old days, Omegas were rarely seen as love interests, romantic partners, or even just random associates you’d nod at on the street. Nope, they always had two roles attached to their titles; Fuck-Toys and/or Baby-Makers.

Not much has changed in the present day, save for a few laws passed here and there that criminalized some behaviors. In truth, these new laws and punishments were the equivalent of putting a toddler in time-out before rewarding them with a cookie later for acting like they were ashamed of their behavior.

It seemed like every day, another Omega was being abused by an Alpha who never understood the meaning of ‘no’ because they were raised in a society where everything was supposed to be ‘yes’ for them. Taken against their will and made to live in truly cage-like homes with partners who could only be called that when it came to legal documents.

In reality, they weren’t partners. They were masters, abductors, and delusional sociopaths who relied on biology and society to abuse and take the things they wanted rather than earn them.

They never saw the Omegas they were stripping of free will and autonomy as partners, or friends, or even humans for that matter. They saw them as possessions, things to own and show off to their friends and family as a symbol of how great they were and how well they were doing in life.

And Gotham was the breeding ground for these types of men and women.

Some would call it for what it was; ownership and power. They had no shame or morals about the acts they would commit. Others dared to call it romance, claiming that true love drove them to these vile acts and oppressive rules.

If this is what they called love, it’d be interesting to see what they’d do if they hated you.

Yet, progressing times meant more progressive and outspoken minds. Many, including some Alphas and Betas who held somewhat decent morals and values, were calling for change. They were protesting to their local, regional, and national governments for Omega liberation.

Of course, no revolution has ever started, let alone succeeded without someone getting their hands dirty.

Enter our hero, Y/N, and his story which some would argue was the ultimate catalyst that led to the fight for Omega Rights and Protections pushing toward victory.

Y/N lived a relatively quiet life in Gotham. Born and raised in the city, his parents taught him from a young age not only how to navigate this world in a way where he protected himself, but also equipped him with the means to do so if need be.

He was trained in the art of self-defense from the moment he had his first incident in school, when the signs of biological dynamics were becoming more and more clear, and some bigger kids decided to pick on him for it. 

His mother, an Omega herself, saw this and immediately went to her husband, Y/N’s father, and demanded they get him in lessons. He agreed and they began scouting classes the very next day. 

Y/N was blessed enough to see what a truly happy and healthy relationship between an Alpha and Omega was like from his parents. His father, bless his soul, never subscribed to the ideology that Alphas were the superior dynamic and held power over those below them, especially Omegas.

No, he fell in love with his Omega, genuinely in love we should say and not that obsessive and creepy kind where they excuse their horrible actions because of said ‘love’. No, he courted and adored her as nature intended, and their story eventually brought Y/N into existence whom they also loved and cherished as if he was the most valuable treasure on Earth.

Fast forward to the present, Y/N was a strong and stead-fast individual who didn’t let his biological dynamic hold him back from what he was meant to achieve. Seeing how different the world was from how his parents raised him, he made it his ultimate purpose to see to the change and betterment of society that included protections and rights for Omegas in Gotham and beyond.

In school, he studied business and politics, which landed him a position at Wayne Enterprises post-graduation, where he surprisingly had the backing of Bruce Wayne, CEO and heir to the very company he was employed by. He voiced his support and even dedicated teams to his mission which initiated the spread to other companies and beyond.

If a powerhouse like Wayne Enterprises was supporting ideas and notions of Omega Liberation and rights, many companies would soon follow. And as many know in this world, money talks. Politicians want to keep their investors and backers happy, so they’ll more than likely support whatever it is they’re claiming to support.

Though, appearances can be deceiving. Just because these companies would take up the mantle that they were for Omega rights, didn’t mean their actions would show that. And if there was one thing Y/N prided himself on, was being able to see bullshit for what it was; bullshit.

It didn’t deter him, though. It inspired him.

When Y/N sat and thought about it, he realized the thing that started and fueled most rebellions and movements was a symbol. An icon or an example that truly represented the meaning and impact behind said movement. And his meaning or idea was justice.

Justice for all Omegas who had been or had yet to be wronged by a system designed to hold them down in chains for others to use and abuse. He also sought liberation not only for those living today but future generations where they didn’t have to live in a world where they weren’t seen as people or equals.

What could be that symbol?

Conveniently, as Y/N sat in the living room of his moderately luxurious apartment, he looked out the window to see a symbol being cast in the sky. A symbol many residents of Gotham were all too familiar with.

The Bat Symbol.

And that’s when it hit him…

True, Gotham was a city known for its less-than-friendly streets and crime-filled alleys, but if the stories his parents told him were to be believed, Gotham was much worse before Batman began protecting its civilians, along with his numerous sidekicks and partners.

Seriously, why does it seem like Batman, or Gotham in general gets a new hero or vigilante every year? Kind of weird when you think about it.

Yet, they were about to get another one as Y/N had made up his mind. He knew the symbol his movement needed, the inspiration that was lacking for so many Omegas in Gotham and outside of it.

They needed to believe that they could stand up for change. That they could fight back and be victorious against their abusers. There was no such thing as biology not being on their side as much as it was their own belief not being on their side.

Omegas needed something, someone they could look up to, someone they could see fighting back and say “If they can do it, so can I.”

Y/N was going to be that symbol.

Thus, Shadow was born.

A bit cringe when you think about it, but the desired effect was still there.

Using his self-defense skills that never went without practice with his growing up and living in Gotham, as well as a couple of connections with some engineering friends from college, Y/N or Shadow was set to be Gotham’s newest vigilante and protector.

With their help, he created his own style of weapons and utility tools to help him out on the battlefield. Most notable were a pair of twin-style blades that when tossed or thrown, expanded out into throwing discs. They were magnetized to each other as well which threw out the need for grappling hooks when he could just toss one forward and use the other to pull himself forward.

He dubbed them Shadowblades.

Yes, still cringe, but aesthetics are everything when it comes to this kind of work.

It helped to have rich friends, especially when it came to his outfit. While, of course, Y/N couldn’t have everyone he knew getting involved in this project, he only reached out to those he knew he could truly trust as they would have just as much to lose if Y/N was to ever be caught and unmasked.

As mentioned before, aesthetics were everything when it came to these ordeals, so his outfit had to match his name. The color scheme consisted of a shadowy black and purple along with a domino mask that had gold covers in the slits to keep his eyes hidden as well.

Skintight (as usual), but flexible and functional. It was also light enough to accentuate Y/N’s smaller and leaner body frame. However, it did nothing to hide the dump truck from behind.

“Nightwing would be put to shame,” A comment from one of his friends who took it upon themselves to jokingly cop a feel. Y/N ‘jokingly’ tossed one of his blades at them as a warning, which they clearly received seeing how close the spinning blades came to their face before zipping back and folding close in his hand.

That did it. Shadow was a force to be reckoned with.

The moment Y/N hit the scene with his new outfit and weapons, ripples were being made in the city. It didn’t take long for Shadow to become a recognizable name and face in Gotham, some dubbing him the Omega Savior with all of his notable rescues and actions.

Within the first few months of Shadow being a presence in Gotham, he’d not only thrown a few dirty Alpha dogs behind bars for attempted rape and abduction but also stopped a major Omega trafficking ring happening right in the city, as well as liberated a few captives from their abusive homes and partners.

Unsurprisingly, with the trafficking ring, Y/N discovered many links and connections from that operation to people who were big-name executives and even CEOs at major companies. Even more shocking (not), some of those companies were the same ones that took up the mantle of supporting Omega rights and freedoms.

Discreet as ever, Y/N wasted no time in ‘suggesting’ that Wayne Enterprises cut all deals and partnerships with these companies, which helped earn him a promotion when the scandals were eventually revealed to the public. This ended up putting him more on Bruce Wayne’s radar who delivered his promotion news personally himself.

In every story, there’s a turning point. Many know the structure that many books, movies, and even shows will follow with the inciting incident that leads to the rising action until you reach the climax, where things typically turn for the worse.

For Y/N, that moment was when Bruce conveniently decided to introduce him to his first adopted son at the same time he was delivering his promotion news, Richard Grayson, or Dick for short. Little did he know how much Dick was about to invade his life.

But, everyone deserves a little teaser, right?

Shortly after Bruce introduced them, he had to leave for a meeting, leaving the two alone in Y/N’s new office. It wasn’t awkward, but it also wasn’t comfortable, at least for the Omega who was wary of being left in a room alone with an unfamiliar Alpha, despite how famous he was.

Yet, Dick seemed to keep a respectable front, only coming as close as he deemed allowed while making small talk, and congratulating Y/N on his new promotion. The Omega gave his thanks while setting his things up on his new desk and shelves.

Now, despite earlier thoughts and possible assumptions, Y/N was no prude. Just because he fought against Alpha abuse and their entitlement didn’t mean he didn’t have his fair share of interest and attractions.

And Dick Grayson did spark his interest. The man was undeniably handsome and had a body many either desired to touch or have. But, Y/N knew self-restraint, and sad as it may be, in this world, he knew to practice caution with whom he showed his attraction.

Dick, however, did not follow the same line of thinking. Of course, why would he if the world was made for him to not have to?

He noticed one of Y/N’s gazes towards him and took that as all the sign he needed to make his move. When Bruce said he was going to deliver the good news initially to the Omega, Dick all but demanded he bring him along. The former acrobat had his eyes on Y/N ever since he first started, and was waiting for the perfect chance to swoop in and make his claim.

Dick did have the right idea that Y/N was not the easy type, and would probably try to resist his charming suaveness. He hadn’t met anyone before who had such luck, so he wasn’t worried. In fact, the idea of a potential challenge made him all the more bold.

And he showed that boldness by closing the distance between him and the Omega while his back was turned, pressing himself against his backside. Dick was not shy about letting Y/N feel what he had packing down there while he in return got a feel of what he had decided was now going to be his.

Y/N immediately jumped at the touch and turned to move himself away but was held in place by the adopted Wayne who leaned forward, pressing his hard chest against the Omega’s while leaning his lips down their his ear. 

“Feel like breaking in the new desk?” Dick whispered hotly into his ear, pressing his very noticeable throbbing appendage against Y/N’s backside, the layer of clothes between them doing nothing to help mitigate the sensation.

Y/N could feel his instincts urging him to submit and present himself to the Alpha. He was no stranger to rumors and gossip and heard the many tales of Dick Grayson’s, well… dick, from many of his co-workers. Despite Bruce’s very relaxed rule about employees having relations with his family.

Though the temptation was there to see if the rumors were true, he was not about to let himself become another number or name in Dick’s or anyone's black book. He had to remain a symbol.

“Sorry, but I prefer to keep things a bit professional. And, frankly, you don’t meet my criteria.” Y/N sarcastically remarked.

“Oh, come on,” Dick smirked against the side of Y/N’s face, slowly grinding himself against him a little harder while rubbing one of his hands up his side, feeling the hot skin of the Omega under his silk-white button-up. “Don’t tell me you have a rule against workplace sex. Or are you worried because I’m the boss’s son? If you don’t tell, I won’t.”

Dick began pressing soft kisses against Y/N’s skin, now using both of his hands to rub up Y/N’s front, slowly beginning to undo the buttons. The Omega had to admit that he was good with his hands and lips, and he could definitely see some truth in his co-worker's words about the man’s hip control. But, logic wasn’t out of his mind yet.

Y/N began to use his arms to push back against the desk, creating a little room while the Alpha was distracted with trying to reach inside his shirt. He pushed off the desk, creating enough momentum to throw Dick off balance and allow him the chance to step out of his grasp, immediately moving to the other side of the room putting distance between the two.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Dick mocked.

“Not for you. One of my criteria is not being a self-entitled brat who only thinks with his dick, and that’s just to get a text back.” Y/N rudely articulated. He quickly fixed the buttons on his shirt while the Alpha ogled his body up and down with no shame.

“If you come back over here, I’ll show you why everyone calls me Dick.”

He scoffed before exiting out of the room, marching himself to Bruce’s office. His assistant, Wyndall, was sitting at his desk, looking at the storm that was an angry Y/N who demanded to know if Bruce was in a meeting.

Wyndall was one of the only other few Omegas alongside Y/N who worked (relatively) this high in the company, so they both found friendship in one another and would often meet up for lunch to hang out and talk. So, when he saw his friend storming in the way he did, he knew something had to be wrong and immediately paged Mr. Wayne.

Given the okay, Y/N went into the office and, to keep a long story short, had a very heated discussion with Mr. Wayne that definitely did not end in him threatening to castrate his son if he came near him again. And, hypothetically if it did, Bruce respected it.

Y/N understandably made demands that if Dick was going to be present on company property at any time, he be notified in advance and not left alone with him at any point. He also made sure it was clear on the Alpha’s part that he was to have no contact or even attempt any with him and to keep his distance at all times, should they ever be in the same room together.

Bruce agreed to everything without a second thought and apologized on his son’s behalf, which, in truth, didn’t surprise Y/N as his boss always had been understanding and accommodating since he started at Wayne Enterprises. Y/N had to admit that the billionaire was one of the few Alphas that gave him hope in his vision for the future.

That was only the beginning of his troubles though. Not only did Y/N have to deal with pesky Alphas in his civilian life, but he had to deal with it in his vigilante one as well.

As more time went by with Shadow cleaning up the streets and helping more Omegas by the day, he eventually caught the attention of the city’s other ‘defenders’. This is when Y/N learned how ‘possessive’ Batman was of Gotham and didn’t appreciate some newbie moving on his turf without checking with him first.

He didn’t give Y/N the grace of making an appearance himself, but he did send his lackeys, or ‘team’ after him. Thankfully, none of them could keep up with him in the field, given his natural speed and agility. A credit to his Omega nature.

Only one could keep up with him though, and that’s where his Alpha troubles began as Shadow. Nightwing, Gotham’s second most famous vigilante, seemed to make it his personal mission to catch Y/N, and unlike the others, gave the Omega a run for his money the way he managed to keep up with his elusive ways.

The first night they met, which also happened to be the first night he made contact with someone from Batman’s team, he wasn’t surprised to discover he was being tailed and watched. He was expecting them at some point to try and make contact with him.

Though, in hindsight, he expected more of a welcoming, collaborative approach and less of a threatening, hostile trying to capture him one. 

Shadow had just finished dealing with a couple of Alpha thugs who were trying to force themselves on an innocent Omega when Batman’s first sidekick made his appearance. Just after he finished tying up the mammoths, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind.

Immediately grabbing his blades from his sides, he turned to find Nightwing standing just a few short feet away from him, blocking the way out of the alley. Y/N had to admit, Nightwing was definitely a lot more attractive in person. Not that he wasn’t from far away, but you could appreciate the view more up close.

“So, you’re the new kid on the block that has Batman all worked up? Have to say, I wasn’t expecting this when he asked me to check you out, but I’m not disappointed,” The taller man spoke, the shadows around his face barely hiding the suggestive glance he was giving the Omega.

“I get the feeling you’re doing a lot more than just checking out.”

“Guilty.” Nightwing chuckled.

Shadow’s facemask hid his annoyed eye roll, suddenly wishing it was Red Hood or Robin he was dealing with instead. From what he heard, they tended to get to their point a lot faster.

“Well, I’d say I’m flattered, but I did promise my mother I’d never lie. Anyway, I’m assuming you’re here on behalf of the Bat himself.” Y/N inquired, wanting to just get to the point so he could get back to doing his work.

“Yeah, Dark Knight would like a word with you. Not really pleased with you moving in on his turf. Can’t say I agree with him, though. I’m sure many have appreciated your touch around here.”

Cue another annoyed eye roll from Shadow. Between him and Dick, he didn’t know who had it worse when deciding to try and flirt at the most inopportune times. And it looked like it was going to be a draw.

“Now, my instructions were to give you the chance to come on your own and, if not, use whatever external measures as needed. But, I’m willing to forgo this little meeting in my memory if you’ll give me something worth forgetting.”

“And what exactly would that be?” As if Y/N didn’t already know what the smug Alpha was getting towards.

“I know you help and save Omegas, but what about poor Alphas in need?”

“Assuming you’re the Alpha in question, what exactly would you need?”

“The touch and comfort of a sweet and savory Omega like yourself.”

It was cheesy and overused. A cliché at best and totally cringe at worst. But, Y/N couldn’t deny (try as he might) the attraction he felt stirring in his body. He didn’t know what it was, but there was something in him itching to give in to the Alpha’s request.

It was like the feeling when you hear a sound or lyrics to a song and it reminds you of something, but you just can’t put your finger on it. And there was something oddly familiar about the vigilante that had Y/N’s curiosity piqued.

Yes, Y/N had standards and criteria for who he would decide to give his time to, but he couldn’t deny that Dick, and now Nightwing, both held something that made the idea of throwing both of those things out the window. But, again, his goal of being someone to look up to for him and all Omegas alike remained strong in his mind, so he went against his body’s sexual desires and instincts.

Was Nightwing attractive up close and afar? Arguably, yes. Did he appear to have a very nice and chiseled body under his skin tight suit? Also, arguably, yes. Yet, was he just as infuriating and annoying as every other persistent Alpha who couldn’t spell ‘Hint’ even with a dictionary in front of them?

Absolutely.

It was this thinking that helped Y/N come back to his state of mind before he faked a sultry smile on his face, walking forward to rub his hand down Nightwing’s chest (which, Jesus Christ, that motherfucker is FIRM). The Alpha smirked down at the Omega going to place his hands against his waist before getting the uno reverse of his life.

In some complicated flip and turn, Shadow managed to not only catch Nightwing off his guard but put him in a submission hold with his head and neck being squeezed between the Omega’s flexing thighs. What was that saying about saving lives? Because this seemed to be the opposite.

“Is this the comfort you were seeking,” Shadow maliciously teased the Alpha, while flexing his legs more, effectively choking out the Alpha. When he decided to release him, Nightwing fell to the ground coughing, trying to catch his breath while the Omega threw one of his blades to zip off.

“Next time, tell Batman to send Red Hood or Robin. They’re a bit more persuasive and less desperate.”

After that, Y/N made sure to be extra careful on his patrols, figuring Nightwing would not be as forgiving lest they meet again in another dark alley or atop a rooftop. His Alpha troubles were nowhere near over yet, especially in his civilian life.

Some time had passed after the incident between him and Dick at his job, and after having the janitorial and cleaning staff do a deep clean of his entire office which he tipped them graciously for (tip your service workers people), Bruce adhered to his conditions perfectly.

Whenever Dick was in the office, Y/N was immediately notified and he would have his schedule altered for the day to avoid any run-ins with the billionaire’s son. If there was an occasion where he couldn’t get out of it and the former acrobat was present, he kept his distance from him and was happy to see the other doing the same even if it looked like he didn’t want to.

You’d think with his tight schedules at work and his busy nightlife, the young Omega would barely have any time for fun and social things like parties and dating.

You’d be right. Y/N did not party at all, but he did find time to mix and mingle occasionally and had come up lucky in recent months. On a previous outing with some co-workers, after a successful deal had gone through, Y/N had met a nice and attractive Alpha who happened to be a friend of Wyndall’s.

His name was Leo and he was not only a fitness trainer, but also a teacher in self-defense arts and fighting. Guess what their first date was considering the mutual interest.

Dinner and a movie. Dirty minds think alike, huh?

But, Y/N truly felt like he was growing strong feelings for Leo. He was a respectable Alpha who treated him with nothing but kindness, respect, and love. Attentive, romantic, and very easy on the eyes, the more time he spent with the Alpha, the more he could imagine spending the rest of his life with him.

Of course, he was no fool, and though they were still relatively new to this relationship, he wasn’t going to let up yet, knowing the first year is usually when the prospective partner is always on their best behavior. Really it was six months, but he was being gracious since he liked him.

Y/N even brought him as his date to Bruce’s gala that was being held in his honor. A major deal had been made at Wayne Enterprises where they partnered with some of the biggest charities in the region to begin plans for creating homes and centers for Omegas who were victims of abusive homes and relationships as well as those who were saved from human trafficking.

At first, he was tempted to not go, but since he was being honored at the event for being the major showrunner for the entire project, it’d be rude for him not to show. Of course, Leo decided to make it a whole show and went out to rent a new tux as well as a limousine to take them to Wayne Manor where the event was being held.

To say Y/N felt like a prince being swept off his feet the entire night would have been an understatement. Not only was he impressed with Leo’s manners and dedication, but he also duly noted the Alpha’s restraint and control considering they hadn’t done the do yet, despite being almost half a year into their relationship.

And there were moments when they came close and the temptation was all too real. Contrary to the earlier joke, the Alpha and Omega did have more physical type dates, where they met in Leo’s gym and would practice different moves and fighting styles following both of their training.

As you can imagine when you bump and grind hot sweaty bodies against each other, at some point, things can get carried away at intervals, but Leo always pulled back, saying he wanted to respect Y/N’s decision and wait until they were both fully ready. Damn, having morals and respect for yourself can really take the fun out of things sometimes.

Anyway, the night went on without a hitch. Y/N mingled and greeted the guests as well as shook hands with a few important people Bruce wanted to introduce him to. He gave a speech and had a few more inside jokes with Leo about the stuffy and posh atmosphere these galas radiate.

Right when they were planning to make their exit, things of course had to get interesting.

“Evening, Y/N. Long time, no see. It’s good to see you.”

Y/N counted to five in his head, reminding himself where he was and that couldn’t introduce the back of his fist to Dick Grayson’s cheek, no matter how bad he wanted to. Their running into each other was inevitable, the Omega recognized that. Whether it was him who accidentally did it, or the billionaire’s son who intentionally did it, they were bound to run into each other again.

He remained civilized though. His mother always taught him how being an Omega in this world, people were going to try and push him more than any others just because they saw him as an easy target. She always said the moment you reacted, you proved them right, and he wasn’t going to let that happen. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be petty though…

“Dick, what a surprise. I’d say likewise, but you know how our Lord & Savior feels about lying,’ Y/N responded with a smile on his face but the sarcasm clearer than ever.

Leo chuckled to the side of him, and for a moment, a quick fleeing second, Dick’s cool and suave charade dropped, and Y/N saw how his attitude and lack of respect triggered the Alpha. The adopted Wayne managed to retain his instincts though, keeping a cool smile on his face.

“Ah, you’re funny. A lot funnier than I remember when we were in your office,” It was then Dick seemed to acknowledge the other presence standing before him, “And just who might this be? Your next conquest?” He inquired in a ‘joking’ manner.

That wasn’t appreciated, given the nasty grimace that wiped over Y/N’s face as he was about to respond with an equal if not more than childish insult. At least, until Leo decided to interject in.

“Actually, I’m his date. Though, I wouldn’t mind being a conquest if it came to that. It's better than showing up alone to an event like this with no one by my side. Speaking of, where’s your date?” Leo asked, an egotistical smile on his face as he stared down the other Alpha, already knowing the answer.

Dick looked more than aggravated, and despite his surprise at Leo’s snarkiness, it did not stop Y/N from laughing out loud, despite his failed attempts at concealing them. While the Omega would have loved to stand there a bit longer and see how interesting that encounter could have gotten, he knew better and decided that was a perfect time to make a strategic exit.

“Well, Dick, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, I wouldn’t. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Dick.” Y/N said, quickly grabbing Leo’s arm and tugging him towards the main entrance.

When they reached the main hall, Leo went to give their valet card to the attendant standing by the door, while Y/N informed him he was going to use the bathroom quickly before they left. Both of them were oblivious to the shadow following behind the Omega.

Y/N found the bathroom and quickly did his business, however, he did take a small moment while using the toilet to admire the decor and pristine state of the bathroom.

“Oh, to be filthy rich and pee in luxury.”

After flushing and washing his hands, he was drying them off and was about to head for the door when it suddenly swung open and a familiar face entered.

“Dick! What the hell you fucking perv! Have you ever heard of knocking, or did Bruce forget that in etiquette training?”

“Funny,” Dick replied, his usual lighthearted tone gone, replaced by something dark and vexing. Y/N didn’t understand why he felt a small flutter in his abdomen at the tone of voice, but he chose to ignore that in favor of getting past the creepy Alpha.

“Yeah, I’m hilarious. Open the door, Dick. I’m not playing these games with you,” Y/N ordered.

“Who said anything about playing,” Dick asked, but he apparently wasn’t looking for an answer if the way he grabbed the Omega by his suit jacket and threw him against the sink was anything to go by.

“What the fuck! Get off of me!” Y/N shouted, pushing against the Alpha’s chest, but his smaller state compared to the acrobat put him at a slight disadvantage. If the hard and prominent muscles he felt under the jacket were anything to go by, he’d say Dick spent a fair amount of time in the gym. Made sense though, given his former circus background.

“Oh, come on. You can quit the act now.” Dick huffed while rubbing his hands down the Omega’s body, stopping right at his waist.

“What act? Were you dropped on your head as a baby?” Y/N retorted, still pushing (groping) at the Alpha’s chest. He could feel Dick’s fingers prodding around his body, taking extra time to squeeze his ass before making their way further down his legs, lifting them and forcing them around the acrobat’s waist.

Dick’s smug look grew even more when he could see the Omega’s submissive instincts kicking in, feeling how less and less he was putting up a fight against his actions.

“This act. Look at you, slowly giving in and letting me take control of your body. I’ve dealt with plenty of bratty little Omegas like you. Playing the honorable and conservative role, only to give it up the second you get the attention you’ve been begging for. You almost had me fooled for a quick second. But, after seeing that sad excuse you brought here as a date, I realized your game immediately. I’ll admit it though, you managed to get what you wanted. I’ve never been as jealous before as I was watching you with him all night.”

While saying all this to Y/N, Dick had wrapped one of his arms around the Omega’s waist forcing his body forward on the marble sink and pushing his own against it. His hard and throbbing member was positioned at an angle in the Alpha’s trousers where the smaller male could almost make out the entire length and size of the throbbing tool, the way it was being ground against his pelvis.

That combined with the adopted Wayne’s ever-talented lips sucking and kissing at the Omega’s neck while sniffing the boy’s pheromones and cologne left a fog in Y/N’s mind that was hard to see past. No longer was he fighting back against Dick, but instead he was mindlessly rubbing and digging his fingers into the hard muscles of his chest and abs covered by his white dress shirt, something the Alpha held a smug satisfaction in.

“Oh, would you look at that? What happened to your high and mighty attitude? I thought you weren’t attracted to demanding and ‘barbaric’ Alphas like me? For the amount of crap you’ve talked, I figured you’d have more restraint than that.” Dick’s mocking words were a bit in cruel taste, but it was a taste Y/N couldn’t decide if he liked or not.

His smug attitude and confidence were attractive to the Omega, given the pleasurable tingles he could feel inside his underwear which were slowly getting wetter by the second. But, that was the very thing that confused him.

Y/N couldn’t count how many times he heard this similar or exact sentiment from another overly confident Alpha who felt entitled to his attention and body. So, why was he having different thoughts and reactions now? Was there something in the air? Did he recently start taking some new vitamin or pill that had psychosis-like side effects? Did someone cast a spell on him?

Or was Y/N genuinely attracted and turned on by Dick Grayson and was just too stubborn to realize every word the Alpha was saying was true. He’d rather not think about that.

Small moans and grunts began to slip out of Y/N’s mouth while feeling the increased kisses and marks being left across his neck and jaw. With his legs spread and Dick in between, there was nothing left to the imagination of what he felt grinding against his pelvis.

When his noises were beginning to reach a volume level that could bring unwanted attention to the Alpha, he had no choice but to remove one of his hands from the delectable body he was ravishing to cover the Omega’s mouth. It was okay for now, he’d have him screaming in no time.

“Oh, Y/N. You’re so perfect. Why do you have to act so stuck up though? Just look at you right now,” Dick muttered against the Omega’s skin before looking up. 

It was a sight to behold, seeing the same man responsible for fighting against the system that held Omegas down in the first place being subjected to the same treatment he claimed to hate, and enjoying it at that.

“And to think, we could've been doing this very same thing in your office if you weren’t acting so stuck up.”

Dick’s feverish kisses and bites increased as his hand forced open Y/N’s shirt, exposing his shiny, leaking nipples to the Alpha. He smirked at the Omega’s whimper from feeling the cool air in the bathroom rush against his wet nipples before moving his lips down and attaching them to one of the nubs.

The yelp Y/N let out under Dick’s hand was enough to have the Alpha pausing in his ministrations, making sure no one came knocking on the door before continuing his feeding on the Omega’s nectar. His other hand that wasn’t muffling the moans and cries of the Omega was working its way down the front of the smaller man’s past, just getting past the elastic band of his underwear.

Y/N’s eyes went wide when he felt Dick's cool fingers prodding around at the top of his arousal, just tugging at his cocklette which he knew was probably leaking slick along with this cunt. He did his best to resist the sensations, but even he had to admit the man was skilled.

His eyes began scanning around the room, trying his best not to get distracted by the hot sight of Dick’s dark head of hair lapping and sucking at his chest like a newborn while he felt his pleasure nub and cocklette being fondled under his underwear. That’s when he spotted something of interest.

Sitting right beside his body was a candle, and more importantly, the heavy looking golden holder it was sitting in. It was a bit hard at first with the distractions he was dealing with, but he managed to get the candle out and holder into his grip, using it to bash the side of Dick’s head.

He shouted out in pain, leaning back just enough for Y/N to shove his body forward before swinging his leg right into Dick’s exposed crotch. The dark-haired man groaned in pain, falling over on his knees while clutching his bruised genitals, looking up to the Omega who scooted himself off the counter, taking a moment to collect himself before cleaning himself up and fixing his clothes.

“Still playing hard to get, I see,” Dick uttered.

Y/N turned around, throwing a dirty look toward the Alpha on the floor before turning his nose up at him in a sneer, “You wish I was playing with you at all.”

“True, but it’s okay for now. I’ll have you begging for me soon enough,” Dick chuckled, before groaning again from another painful throb.

Y/N tried to ignore the flutter he felt in his pants and the surge of feelings he felt in his chest. He gave Dick one last glare, before exiting the bathroom, promptly finding Leo and leaving the party. On his way out though, he ran into Bruce who looked concerned at the Omega’s disheveled and angry state.

“Ask your son,” He retorted, grabbing his valet ticket out of his jacket before looking up at the CEO, a storm of emotion and thoughts behind his eyes, “Mr. Wayne, it’s been a pleasure working for W.E., and I’m very happy to see the progress we’ve been able to make in my time at the company. But, after tonight, I think it’s best if I move on to other opportunities. I’ll be sending someone to collect my things from my office.”

With that, Y/N grabbed Leo’s hand and exited the party and Wayne Manor, hopefully for the last time.

That night, the Omega was extra brutal on his patrol, taking out his anger and confusion on every bloody criminal and thug Alpha who even looked like they were up to no good. By the end of the night, Y/N was going to have to ask his contacts for some new gloves with how dirty and covered in blood they were.

As the weeks rolled by, Y/N received numerous emails and calls from Bruce Wayne asking him to come back to the company and if they could work something out. Even Wyndall had reached out to see what was going on with him.

The only person he Y/N talked to about all of this was Leo. He did tell him what went down in the bathroom, and that he just needed some time to sort out his head. The Alpha respected his wishes and still checked in on him every other day just to make sure he was okay.

The thing was, Y/N didn’t really know if he was okay. He felt like he was going crazy.

On one hand, he was very angry and upset still about the bathroom incident and just the situation overall. He couldn’t believe the nerve of Dick, thinking he could just bust his way into the room and into his life and just have his way with him. It was unbelievably arrogant and barbaric.

On the OTHER hand, it was the barbarism of the situation that had Y/N so confused. More specifically, why he was so attracted to it. The truth was, Dick pointed out some significant stuff in that bathroom that had the Omega overthinking everything.

Why was he attracted to it, and why didn’t he fight Dick off harder. He could’ve taken him and avoided that whole situation, but he didn’t. Why?

That was the question that kept pounding in his head over and over for weeks on end. One part of him wanted nothing to do with Dick Grayson, but the other part wanted everything to do with him. Wanted to give in and submit to the Alpha.

But, he had to be a symbol. And he couldn’t do that if he gave in to the very thing he was fighting against.

Though, little did he know that soon, he wouldn’t have much of a choice.

Even if his Alpha troubles had gone quiet in his civilian life, his vigilante one was another story. Shadow was plagued by countless run-ins with Nightwing who was persistent in his endeavors of trying to corner him. That or he wanted another chance to throw some cheesy one-liners at him, probably both. Thankfully, Y/N managed to stay a step ahead every single time and always managed to avoid his capture.

At least that’s what he thought.

Things would take a major turn when Shadow decided to answer a distress call coming from Wayne Towers. An Omega claimed they were being harassed and stalked by an Alpha who locked them in the building. 

Since it was his old stomping grounds, and he knew plenty of ways in and out of the building, he figured it’d be a quick mission. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary on the outside, but for some reason, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing, but he still decided to go in.

The first thing he noticed when he got inside was how quiet the building was, almost too quiet. He’d worked plenty of late shifts in this building before and the silence was never this loud. Where were the nighttime guards? Or the other executives who inevitably stayed late to work?

Something weird was going on. Y/N made his way to the top of the building, closer to Bruce’s office where he heard the Omega say he was hiding over the police line he tapped into. As he approached closer to the hiding spot, he couldn’t help how tense he grew, feeling the ever-growing sensation of being watched take over him.

When Y/N finally made it to Bruce’s office, he was more or less shocked at who he found waiting for him.

“Wyndall?”

The Omega looked up, confused at first but then suddenly shouting out only to be muffled by the gag around his mouth. His hands and feet were bound by rope and he was tucked into the corner. Y/N was about to make his way over until he realized Wyndall was looking at something behind him and not at him.

He turned just in time to see a flash of blue and black lunge at him before ducking out of the way in time, “Nightwing,” The Omega growled under his breath.

“Good to finally see you again, Shadow. Well, at least all of you since I’m only used to seeing the far-distant view of your back as you run away from me. Though, it’s definitely not a sight I’m complaining about.” Nightwing said, his usual playful smirk on his face as he once again eyed the Omega vigilante up and down like their first meeting.

“Attacking innocent Omegas just to get to me, why am I not surprised? Is Batman that mad at me?”

“Who said anything about Batman? Maybe I just wanted the chance to finish our conversation from before. And you say attacking, I say leveraging advantages.”

The Omega looked from Nightwing to Wyndall who was watching the exchange while still struggling to get out of his binds. “Well, hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not in much of a talking mood,” Shadow said before grabbing one of his blades and throwing it at the other vigilante.

Nightwing managed to duck but was unprepared for the attacks he received. Using the surprise to his advantage, Shadow landed quick blows along the other vigilante’s chest and legs before sweeping under him and knocking him to the ground.

When Nightwing didn’t immediately get up, the Omega rushed over to Wyndall, using his blades to cut the ropes and gag, “Thank you,” Wyndall began to say, before both of them turned to see the other vigilante not where Shadow left him.

“No time for that, just grab your stuff and let’s go,” Shadow ordered, getting the Omega off the ground and both of them making a break for the stairs.

Just as Wyndall made it to the exit and Shadow right behind him, neither of them saw Nightwing dart out of the shadows, surprising the Omega vigilante before being tackled to the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re not finished talking,” The Alpha growled in the smaller man’s face, doing his best to keep the Omega pinned.

Thankfully for the Alpha, the Omega was distracted by Wyndall coming back to try and help him, “No, Wyndall! Just go. Get out of here!”

“But-”

“I said GO!”

He stood there for a few moments contemplating, before turning around and heading down the stairs. Nightwing smirked down at the Omega, using his strength to overpower him and pin his arms down.

“Alone at last,” Nightwing smiled before leaning down and claiming Shadow’s lips in a soft, but demanding kiss. The Omega could feel a familiar sensation sparking in his pants and certain feelings swirling in his gut.

Though, it didn’t mean he was giving up, doing his best to wiggle his leg putting as much momentum as he could into his knee as he shoved into the Alpha’s crotch. His eyes went wide as he let out a muffled grunt before breaking the kiss and letting his face fall into the side of the Omega’s neck.

But his grip didn’t loosen at all nor did his strength waver over the Omega as he tried to push back to free himself, and that’s when he heard the chuckle beside his ear.

“Sorry, but I’ve learned from your tricks before.”

Nightwing leaned off the Omega, but not enough for him to escape. Only enough to where he could flip him around on the floor, bringing his arms and hands behind his back before grabbing some more binding rope off his utility belt.

He tied both arms and legs together, grabbing his shadowblades off his waist and attaching them to his belt. When he had him secured, he turned the Omega back over and lifted him off the ground, holding him steady while taking a moment to admire his captured prize.

“All that running and fighting, and look at you know, finally caught in my grasp.”

“So what, you’re gonna take me to Batman now?”

Nightwing chuckled again, “Hmm, still haven’t figured it out yet. I told you, this isn’t about Batman. This is about you and me. It’s about finally taking what rightfully belongs to me.”

The Alpha leaned down to grab the Omega around his thighs before throwing him up in a fire-man carry and making his way down the hall. Y/N watched from his place atop the Alpha’s shoulder as they traveled through the dark and quiet halls. Eyeing the various security cameras positioned throughout the hall and noting that they were all missing the usual red light that indicated they were on and watching.

‘Did Nightwing manage to cut the cameras?’ Y/N thought to himself as they made their way down another hall, a familiar one at that as he realized they were getting close to his old office.

It was then that Y/N started thinking about various things. How Nightwing seemed to predict his move of kneeing him in the crotch as a last resort since he was apparently wearing some protective garment that kept his genitals safe. Then again, why wouldn’t he being a vigilante?

But, the comment he made seemed as if he expected it. Then, there was the fact that out of all the people Nightwing chose to attack in Wayne Towers, he chose Wyndall, one of Y/N's few friends at the company from this time working here.

And while he’d rather not think about it, that kiss they shared was just as pleasurable as it was familiar. Things were starting to slowly come together for the Omega. It was becoming somewhat clear that Nightwing knew he was, especially given the fact that he was right about his earlier hunch.

They were heading for his old office.

Y/N recognized the hall the moment they turned down the corner, before they made their way through the familiar glass door, Nightwing pausing in the middle of the room while looking at the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Hmm, feels just like the first time, only the view I have is much better than yours,” The Alpha gloated before using his other hand that wasn’t holding the Omega’s thighs together to land a harsh spank on the plump ass next to his face.

“Ouch, you fucking asshole,” Shadow yelled, before yelping out again in pain as he was subjected to even more brutal and harsher slaps.

Imagine how he felt in the moment, the Omega Vigilante tasked with saving his kind from brutish behavior, getting spanked over the shoulder of the Alpha who’d relentlessly pursued him for months. Only now, he knew that this Alpha was not different from the one that had been pursuing him in his civilian life as well.

“Alright, Dick! That’s enough.” He shouted, still flailing over the Alpha’s shoulder from the sting in his ass as he tried to hold back the tears that were brewing in his eyes.

The Omega suddenly found himself back on the ground, standing on his two feet but being held by the Alpha at the waist. He did his best to not scoff at the arrogant smirk on the vigilante’s face as he looked down at him with a knowing look.

“Oh, finally put the pieces together, have you?” Dick asked.

“You didn’t make it hard with your not-so-clever hints and cliché remarks.”

“Careful,” Dick warned, squeezing the tender behind while laying a hand over his growing arousal, “Before when I gave you the chance to submit to me willingly, you refused and defied me every single time, always with that smart and condescending attitude of yours. I was forgiving then, but not so much now. And I don’t have to be.”

Y/N didn’t know why, but that same feeling he had before in the bathroom, that ever-growing curiosity, had him wanting to bite back. To test the Alpha and see how far he would go. He didn’t understand why he was actively fighting to get out of the situation he was in.

Frankly, he didn’t care about any of that. Right now, at this moment, he couldn’t remember or think of why he cared about being a symbol so much.

All he cared about was wanting to get fucked.

“Hmm, well, maybe if you had been someone worthy of submitting to, I actually would have listened and given in. Even now, I still don’t see someone deserving of my attention, let alone my body.” Y/N remarked, his own smirk pulling at his lips.

The look in Dick’s eyes was something menacing. It was as if the curtains that were obscuring who the Alpha really was were suddenly going up in flames, and now, the real show was about to begin.

“Oh, you want someone worthy, huh? I’ll give you someone worthy.” Dick uttered, a darkness to his words before he forced Y/N onto his knees.

He undid the clasps of his utility belt before undoing the secret zippers at his crotch, reaching inside and pulling out a sizable tool. Definitely not small, but not too big that would have Y/N clenching. But, appearances could be deceiving. After all, Dick was just as much known as a playboy as his adoptive father.

“How about we fill that mouth with something more worthy, huh?”

He barely gave the Omega any time to comply, using his hand to grip the smaller male’s jaw and force his mouth open, using his other hand to shove his hard appendage inside and down his throat. Y/N choked and gagged over the organ, saliva already drooling out around his lips and tears building in his eyes as the Alpha let out a guttural groan, gripping his hair now and holding him against his pubes. 

“That worthy enough for ya?” Dick growled out, jerking himself forward causing another round of chokes and gags and reveling in the sound of them, “Finally, after all that time, waiting around and watching you ignore me and toss me aside, look where you are now. Crying over my dick.”

Y/N couldn’t even use his hands to try and push back at Dick’s hips, seeing as they were still bound behind his back.

Eventually, the Alpha pulled himself out, chuckling at the sounds of the Omega gasping for air and coughing. “Enjoy this little break, it’s gonna be one of the few you get all night,” Dick taunted, yanking on Y/N’s hair again before shoving himself back down his throat.

He kept the Omega like that for another minute, seeing how long he could go before giving him a slight breather for air. When he had enough of that, he slowly began to move in and out of his throat, watching with sinful pleasure at the teary-eyed look the Omega was looking up at him with as his veiny appendage slid in and out of his mouth, a glistening shine come off it from his salvia and the light of the moon through the window.

Eventually, Dick was ruthlessly shoving himself in and out of Y/N’s lips, barely giving him any breaks or breathers as he claimed the Omega’s throat for himself. This was only the first of his many victories that he would achieve tonight. His patience and planning would finally reward him, especially with the insurance he set up for himself, as he eyed the hidden camera tucked away on a shelf in the corner of the room.

Y/N had no choice but to learn how to breathe through his nose to get the much-needed air he required as Dick had his way with his throat. His mouth was covered in spit and drool while his eyes and cheeks were soaked with his tears. When Dick pulled himself out for the last time, he took a sharp breath in, falling forward slightly as he also released the grip on his hair.

“n-nh ... ah … fuck,” The Omega breathed before feeling himself be yanked back up to his feet and pulled towards the desk.

“I’m not done with you yet, slut.”

With one sweeping motion, he knocked everything to the ground before forcing the Omega against the desk and bending him over it. He made quick work of the utility belt before unbuckling and unzipping wherever he had to, pulling down his pants and revealing his wet cunt to him.

“Oh, look at that, even prettier than I imagined,” Dick looked over the panting Omega, taking pride in the fact that this was all his doing before taking a finger and rubbing it over the wet fold and leaking head of his cocklette, “What do you think, Y/N? Should I go slow? Give you time to adjust and widen up for me? Or should I just take you like this? Since I’m apparently not worthy enough?” He asked with a leering sneer.

“please ...a-ah, fuck ... !” Y/N moaned, feeling Dick’s fingers slip inside his heat while his thumb rubbed rough circles over his cocklette and nub.

“Aw, look at that. Told you I’d have you begging for me soon enough,” He said, forcing his fingers inside him a little more before taking them back out, “That’s enough of that. Time’s up, slut. Now, I finally claim what’s rightfully mine.”

Dick turned Y/N over, removing the rope at his ankles before pushing the smaller male further up on the desk, slotting himself between the open legs. He took a moment to admire the sight before him while slapping his dick against the Omega’s dripping entrance.

“After all that time, all that fighting back and acting like you didn’t want me. Look at you here now, helpless, about to have your body claimed by your rightful Alpha. And to think, we could’ve been doing this so long ago. You and me, Nightwing & Shadow, patrolling the streets of Gotham together, but you decided to be a little bitch about everything and resist me at every turn. Well, now, you’ve got nowhere to go. You’re all mine, and I won’t be letting you go anytime soon. Not now, not tonight or tomorrow, and especially, not after this…”

Dick gripped his appendage while holding Y/N at the center of his stomach, sinking himself inside the wet heat with a deep and vocal groan. The Omega shouted out at the brute and forceful intrusion before feeling a hand slap over his mouth.

“Quiet, slut. I may have knocked the guards out, but we still want you alerting anyone else now, do we?”

Dick held his hand firm against the Omega’s mouth while savoring the feeling of the tight flesh wrapped all around his cock. He had sex with many people before, Omegas and Betas alike, but none of them compared to the feeling he had right at that moment.

A few moments went by, Y/N’s vocal but muffled cries slowly quieting as Dick does his best to calm himself down as well before taking his first move inside the soft and tight cunt. Another whine pops up from the Omega, feeling the drag and pull of the hard cock in his insides.

“Quiet baby, I’m trying to focus on not cumming here, and your little sweet sounds aren’t helping,” Dick ordered, taking his time to slowly move himself in and out while fighting down his growing climax. He knew they would have multiple rounds, but there was nothing like the euphoric feeling of claiming your prize. Conquering the very thing that fought so hard against you.

And, now, his reward lay helpless beneath him. Subject to whatever treatment and punishment the Alpha saw fit. Dick knew it, and he could see Y/N was realizing the way he squirmed around on the desk trying to adjust themselves to being owned and taken by someone worthy.

When Dick made his first full thrust inside, the tears sprang to Y/N’s eyes again as he tried to scoot himself up on the desk away from the intrusive weapon spearing his guts.

“Uh uh, baby,” Dick said, holding him by one of his legs as he forced the Omega still on his cock, “there’s no running from this. You’ve got no choice. You’re tied up and helpless, and you’re going to take my cock whether you like it or not.”

And take it, he did.

Once Dick got himself under control and didn’t feel like he would cum too soon, he mercilessly fucked the Omega with no tone of softness or tenderness in his movements. His cries under the Alpha’s palms never ceased, seemingly only increasing in volume as neared closer and closer to his own orgasm.

Above him, Dick groaned and grunted like an animal while plowing his insides, his other palm was busy squeezing roughly at the whiny little cocklette and rubbing furiously over his little pinch of nerves. The evidence of their filthy fun was becoming increasingly more potent as the slick around his cock combined with the soaking and squelching walls of the cunt he was defiling dripped and splashed onto the floor and around the edges of the desk.

“This is all your fault, you know,” Dick spat, the sweat evident on his body as his hair stuck to his face and the top parts of his mask, “if you had just listened to me and been obedient, our first time could have been gentler and more romantic. But, you wanted to be a stubborn little brat who defied his Alpha, and now you’re paying the price.”

Dick delivered powerful and harsher thrusts to Y/N’s core, pulling even louder sounds from his throat as his arms tingled with sleep from being pressed between his body and the shaking wooden desk.

“Oh fuck, you’re squeezing me even tighter than you were before. Are you trying to make me cum, slut?” Dick asked, eyeing his Omega with lust and focus as he drilled even harder into his insides. “Still think I’m not worthy, huh? Still think someone else is more deserving of your body, Y/N? I bet you no one else can have you wet and screaming like this. I can feel the vibrations from all your moaning and whines under my palm. No one can make you feel like I can. No one can fuck you like I can! No one can own you like I can.”

Somehow, Dick began to go even faster, tears now flowing at a fast rate out of Y/N’s eyes as he met his explosive end over the Alpha’s cock. The vigilante leaned over the Omega’s body as his knot slowly approached.

“Get ready for it, slut. And feel lucky you’re not in heat yet, but soon, you will be. And soon, you’ll be carrying my kids.” Nightwing said as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside before meeting his end.

He leaned down and bit into your neck with a vocal growl as he buried himself all the way inside, knotting his Omega for the first time. His body convulsed with shudders and shakes as he felt himself shooting his seed deep inside, Y/N feeling the streaks paint his insides.

Both their breaths slowly returned to normal as they waited for his knot to do down, and when Dick felt like he had enough strength, he held himself up, taking his hand away from the Omega’s mouth before looking at him in his post-orgasmic state.

“You were amazing, baby. I’m sorry I had to be so rough with you, but you gave me no choice. But, don’t worry, it won’t be the last time. We should get you home so I can show you how an Alpha properly treats his Omega.”

Y/N could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence, and he didn’t have any time to try and think of one as Dick pulled himself off and out of him. He reclothed both of them before tying the Omega’s legs back together and tossing him back over his shoulder.

“You’re all mine now, baby. Nightwing & Shadow forever,” Dick said to himself while grabbing the camera off the shelf, stopping the recording before exiting the office and heading down towards the parking garage where he planned to take you both home.

To be continued…

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🌙 | Part Two | 🌙

🌃 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌃 (this image was genrated by Bing AI)

[genderkoolaid]

the rationale on make radfem ally's post is so fucking stupid. 'oooo i don't support ANY medically unnecessary surgeries oooo' okay cool how do you determine if it's medically necessary or not.

like. is it what insurance companies deem necessary?? insurance fuckimg hates covering skin removal surgeries, permanent birth control related surgeries, etc etc and calls them unnecessary but these are still definitely life improving for the people who get them in most cases.

is it what medical professionals deem necessary? if so then yippee! American academy of pediatrics, american medical association, american psychiatric association, etc. all consider medical transition to be medically necessary.

is it what the person getting the surgery considers necessary? because if so that's... pretty cut and dry. if you think it's necessary get it if you don't then don't?

but ofc. they're not saying that because they mean it. they're saying that so they can pretend to take the moral high ground lmao

Being myself disabled and as a result very skeptical of the construction of our health industry + our ideas around health itself its like. so obviously flawed. Going deeper into "necessary by whose standards" the idea that the only thing which really matters is the Objective (tm) Facts (tm) of what makes your body work in ways both normative and pleasing to the powerful in society is not neutral! or the only way of looking at health! its absurd that any self-proclaimed feminist is like "actually we should completely sign over medical autonomy to a system run by largely cis men"

[tainbocuailnge]

i watched fight club today. really not hard to see how this became such a cultural mainstay. i feel like the opening sections before tyler even shows up are possibly even stronger than the rest of it, this setup of this guy with his cushy office job and his pleasantly furnished apartment being so chronically unfulfilled in his picture perfect life that he ends up visiting support groups for the terminally ill to vicariously get access to a framework through which he's allowed to lament his life, but even within these support groups everyone's lament has to adhere to a certain safe image, the narrator fucking hates marla for doing the exact same thing as him because she's not even pretending to go along with the image of beautiful lament despite her being extremely suicidal and just as much in need of support, and when chloe complains about her struggle to get laid now that she's consigned to a beautiful tragic cancer death she is quickly pulled away from the microphone. everyone on screen is excruciatingly unfulfilled because so much as voicing your desires outside very rigidly defined frameworks of acceptability is severely frowned upon.

it's extremely obvious why the men who join fight club are drawn to the allure of a framework through which they're allowed to desire and obtain the experiences of the flesh. all of tyler's crimes involve the taboo of the flesh somehow. splicing porn frames into movies. pissing and nutting into the food he's serving. stealing liposuction clinic fat to make soap and explosives. and of course starting underground fight rings. because the physical is inherently transgressive to these allowed frameworks of success and lament. when tyler lists the rules of fight club all the men present giggle at "no more than two guys per fight" "no more than one fight at a time" because just the fact that they're all here gathering as unfulfilled men indulging in the taboo of high impact physical contact gives everything a (homo)sexual angle that they have to laugh off. because even here in their transgressive taboo secret club they have to adhere to what is allowed! they're not gay. they're manly men who want to fuck women. they are deeply unfulfilled and deeply desperate for a place to belong among other men. they are simply exchanging one rigid framework for another.

it's no coincidence that the first support group the narrator goes to is for testicular cancer either, all these men crying about how losing their balls ruined their lives not because they almost died but because their wives divorced them for not being able to impregnate them anymore, because it destroyed their masculinity and thus their value as human beings, and especially bob who used to be an accomplished bodybuilder but needing to get his balls removed lead to hormonal imbalances that lead to breast growth and now this once masculine ideal is nobody anymore because he's no longer a proper man. he's the only one in tyler's army who gets to have a name.

like specifically bob and sophie really stand out to me as very bold statements especially considering when this movie was made and also very clear signs of what its trying to say here. the extreme social and physical alienation of modern consumerist society and the way it intersects with harmful ideas of masculinity to create a genre of extremely volatile reactionary asshole. and also the fact that the reason the narrator even ended up going to this support group is because his doctor was calling him a fucking pansy for not just powering through his insomnia and telling him to have a look at these tragically emasculated men if he wants to see what's really worth pitying. and having your balls cut off repeatedly being used as the worst threat you could possibly make to a man in this movie because being emasculated is worse than death.

tyler constantly tells the narrator he needs to be prepared to die if he wants to be free, he needs to lose everything and destroy everything if he wants to become able to do whatever he wants, but it's only after the narrator kills himself -> kills tyler and the ideal of masculinity tyler represents that he's actually able to desire something without being told what to desire. the narrator doesn't know what he wants and can't tell tyler what he wants when tyler demands to know, because being tyler isn't actually what he wants once it becomes clear to him where that ideology will lead, but as long as tyler is looming over him as his concept of the ideal (masculine) self he still can't be or even conceptualise his actual fulfilled self. because tyler is taking up all his brainspace to be nothing but a volatile reactionary asshole at the center of a death cult. it's the least masculine man in the movie who gets to be named, martyred even, in the pursuit of tyler's masculinity, and he's named because the narrator realizes he cannot abide tyler's ideal of masculinity. anyway. good movie.

[respectthepetty]

What is tradition?

I finally watched this week's episodes of The Eighth Sense and

Episode six was NOT a dream

Ji Hyun is alive but whatever happened is serious

This is a giant "fuck you" to tradition

First, Ji Hyun brings light to Jae Won's dark world. Jae Won is in a very dark place (and head space) after the confrontation with his dad and the camera breaking, so he reaches out to the light.

Ji Hyun is at his peak brightest because Jae Won is about to experience the darkest period of his life . . . again

Jae Won is also in a haze due to his mental state. The colors become less ethereal as their time together continues during the trip because Jae Won is becoming more grounded.

Next, since episode six is not a dream, that means something did happen to Ji Hyun, and it's serious.

Because it needs to be serious.

Someone already compared Jae Won to Team from Between Us. They share the same trauma. They share the same burden. They share the same mentality. Team loved Win but was too afraid to say it. He was too afraid to lose someone he loved like before. He was too afraid to push because the last time he pushed, there were fatal consequences.

Jae Won specifically voices this last concern. His brother died in front of him, and much like Team, I'm sure it is partially due to a rash decision Jae Won made, much like this one:

Someone pointed out that the back of their wetsuits read "RASH" and this entire beach trip was a rash decision by Jae Won.

If Jae Won feels responsible for his brother's death, he will definitely feel responsible for whatever happens to Ji Hyun, and because of that he will resort back to his old self even more.

Jae Won was an overachiever. The hospital staff thought he was older because he was mature and put together. He did exactly what his parents wanted. He did what society expected. He dated a girl. He befriended the masculine men. He did all of that, but lately, he has been rebellious. He's been drinking. He broke up with the girl. He is distancing himself from his friend(s). He doesn't want to go into business.

But this incident with Ji Hyun will put him back on the straight and narrow. It will scare him and shake him to his core because it is a reminder of what could happen when he doesn't stay in line - he could lose the one he loves the most. So to protect his heart and Ji Hyun, he will pull back, date the girl, hang out with his friends, and do what his parents ask. He will follow tradition.

But the problem with tradition is it's really just history repeating itself again, and again, and again.

The show is about the troubles with tradition. Tae Hyung is hellbent on keeping tradition alive. He wanted the freshmen to drink until they passed out on the beach trip. He wants them to cater to him. He is, at his very core, a traditionalist even though it has been pointed out several times how tradition hurt him. Yoon Won mentions every time how Tae Hyung was essentially bullied and hazed by his seniors, but instead of wanting to change for the better, Tae Hyung wants to continue the cycle of pain.

Ae Ri refuses to drink anymore at the beach. She rebukes traditional mindsets and gender roles. She speaks casually with the seniors and even when Yoon Won comments that the freshmen need to use formalities with the seniors, Ae Ri scoffs. She doesn't respect Tae Hyung and won't simply because he is a senior.

Tae Hyung needs tradition because it is predictable and structured. Ae Ri hates tradition because it is confining and restrictive.

Jae Won told his therapist that life after the military has been difficult. This is a common feeling. Military life is structured. Civilian life is full of choices. Military service is riddled with tradition. Jae Won is lost without the structure of tradition. He wants to break free, but the way he has been handling it (drinking, partying, not applying for jobs) is an extreme. Instead of one thing holding power over him, he is giving up power to anything and everything just so he doesn't have to make any decisions because when he does, people get hurt.

Jae Won wears a mask with everyone, but he was beginning to lean on Ji Hyun in hopes that Ji Hyun could make those decisions for him. Ji Hyun is the light in Jae Won's dark world, so why couldn't Ji Hyun just be Jae Won's entire world?

In the bar, Jae Won got upset at Tae Hyung but Ji Hyun was there to calm him down, both in the first episode and the fifth. But we saw in the trailer that Jae Won will hit Tae Hyung in the classroom because Ji Hyun won't be there to calm him down since Jae Won pushed Ji Hyun away after the incident.

Jae Won must take control of his own life instead of living in these extremes. He needs to find a balance within himself. He needs to define who he wants to be without depending on others to do it for him.

The accident with Ji Hyun is going to push Jae Won back into his comfort zone, so he will be alone again, pretending with everyone and masking his true self.

But he will realize his comfort zone is his hell, and HE is the only one who can rescue himself from it. Ji Hyun can't be around while Jae Won figures out who he needs to be. He can't keep repeating the same mistakes.

Because

Jae Won's biggest problem is himself

And

Jae Won's only solution is himself.

He must be his own light.

Sidenote: I'm gonna marry this queen.

I have an answer for you @wen-kexing-apologist. I have thoughts for you @waitmyturtles and @dribs-and-drabbles. I agree with you @bengiyo

[kairiscorner]

okokk hear me OUT, you know that movie jennifer check by megan fox?? the succubus demon that loves to seduce men and trick them inti having sex with her before she eats them? can you imagine her snd miguel?? like idk maybe the team thought that she’d be a great addition and also bc she ‘promised’ to be good but miguel’s like ??!?! fuck no that bitch maybe hot but she kills men and bat shit crazy yet one single look at her and he melted like a goddamn puddle

HI, oh yo...... reader sounds kinda hot ngl, i volunteer to be seduced and eaten ✋ I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel o'hara x succubus!reader

summary: you were dangerous, awfully dangerous–but you were powerful and a great asset to have in the spider society. the only one opposed to your addition to the team was him, who was way of every move you were gonna make here in HQ. but of course... he's only human, partially human, at least–he's weak when it comes to you, but he'll never admit it. word count: 679 a/n: might make an nsfw version of this on my sideblog HEHE this is pretty sfw for the most part, just some suggestive content below the cut, so be warned

"you've got a lot of spunk for someone that can easily be killed when you don't get fed. for such a... pathetic creature..." miguel trailed off as he felt your fingers creeping up on his broad chest, his gaze never leaving yours as you purred in a low voice and inched closer and closer to him. miguel gulped back the lump in his throat and coughed a little to compose himself. "...a pathetic creature that steals lives doesn't... have any place in my elite for–" "do i have a place in your bed, then?" you asked him in a suggestive whisper, with miguel gasping silently and taking in a deep breath, holding it in as you leaned closer towards him with a wide grin on your face.

"i'm talking to you." miguel said in a stern voice as you giggled, tracing over the curve of his waist. he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to his face, with his eyes going red as he glared at you with an evident frown. "you won't feed on me. i know what you're doing, and it's not gonna work." he seethed as he tried to keep his composure, but you were more cunning than him. you leaned over to him and planted a kiss on his nose, which he grumbled at... but released your wrist from his grasp. you didn't pull away from him, however, you instead sauntered over to him even closer and breathed down his neck; which... he really did not hate.

miguel shuddered as he felt you press your lips against his neck, feeling his face all the way down to his shoulders get hotter and hotter. he shut his eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows together in a frustrated manner. he was frustrated with how gwen and peter b took you in despite the danger you posed, how he now has to deal with you, how... how well your charms worked on him before the real seduction began. he was frustrated with how much you're making him want you.

"tell me..." you muttered as you placed your hands on his chest and gazed at him with a burning desire in your eyes, a dangerous, fiery desire dancing in your pupils. "...are you going to be good for me?" you asked him, and despite every single voice in his mind telling him to say no, no to your temptation, no to your seduction... "...yes." miguel uttered as you brought your lips closer to his own, your fangs baring as you chuckled. "good boy..." you whispered as miguel leaned closer to meet you halfway–when he suddenly lunged forward, baring his own longer, sharper fangs, and pinned you against the ground. you hissed as his weight kept you on the floor, his face only inches away from yours. you scratched at him, but he didn't let up. "look at me." he uttered as you looked at him from the corner of your eyes. "don't ever think... i'm that easy to fool." he said as his nose brushed against yours, his red eyes bearing into yours. "do i make myself clear?"

you slowly nodded as miguel's grip on you lightened, and he retracted his fangs. he pulled away and got off you not long after and went back over to his platform to monitor the multiverse. "i'd love to play with you again sometime, miggy." you said in a teasing tone as you strut out of his office, with him not sparing you a second glance or another word. "you thought that was super hot, didn't you?" lyla asked him teasingly. "keep tabs on her movements." miguel ordered her as she raised an eyebrow. "why, so you can ask her to–" "i'm not gonna ask her for any favors." "not even...?" "...at least not yet." miguel finished as the warmth in his whole upper body from you charming him up remained, and he just can't shake it off on his own. he'd be keeping an eye on you from now on... a very, very close eye on you from now on.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

[thedilfoccult]

SUBJECT OF PERVERSION // DR>CRANE X READER

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Pairing | Jonathan Crane x Reader / Dr.Crane!Teacher x Student / Teacher x Student

Summary | Private, all girls boarding school is hell. A hormone fest mixed with underage activity and substances is the equation for disaster. To make matters worse, the new psychology teacher Dr.Crane is the topic for all girls perversions. His fixations have landed on none other than the exceeding grade, misbehaved, foul mouth student who hides herself in the corner of his classroom. With Y/N’s boarding room being on the first floor, it was an open invitation for his stalking, wanting to figure out each and every behavioural pattern she inhabited. With an attachment to the liquid courage, nights turned into days in which alcohol was drank. How Dr.Crane reacts to her intoxicated behaviour and mischief in his classroom leads to nothing but confessions of lust and actions of taboo.

Warnings | Disgusting mouth watering smut, age!gap (17/18 fem!reader x 39 Dr.Crane. I’m a dog for older men and I always have been, pls don’t read if a massive age gap freaks you or you find it offensive), stalker/pervy Dr.Crane, alcohol + cigs consumption. Just dirty filthy smut tbh. COMPLETELY fictional, maybe out of character? Just sexy Cillian in glasses & suit = authoritative figure. Power dynamic, dominant, forceful? Dr.Crane. Loss of virginity. Corrupting innocence, public-ish / risky £ex.

Notes | First published writing! I love relationship dynamics which are downright gross. A teacher x student and/or older man with a younger girl (myself) is more than a guilty pleasure. Situations that should most definitely not be taking place romantically or sexually is my most specialised writing topic. No one but me and my English teacher have read shit I’ve written, big scary for me but its anon so easier. Not expecting attention from this post or any of my writing tbh, just rotting away in my bed from depression and feel like this is the best I can do to start just doing something again. Judgement all welcome if any critic is felt, the more you hate the more it turns me on! (My father was NOT present.) I wanted to write something wrong, perverted, sexual and unseen in society. I love love love reading gross smut / fics so also if any suggestions come to mind with anything disturbing you’ve read, pleeeeassseee pass it along. Please enjoy!or don’t, I don’t really care. Mwah.

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“Who do you think the new teacher will be?” Rachel asks applying her sticky lipgloss through her heart shaped pocket mirror, smacking her lips together before snapping the mirror shut.

“Can’t be certain. Only freaks live in Gotham, they couldn’t of hired anyone good.” Y/N answers, curling the bottom of her plaid skirt between her fingers.

“It’s the fresh meat that counts. Maybe it’s a male” Rachel giggles biting her French tips.

“Like that would make a difference. Have you seen who lives in this city?” Eyebrows raised and bottom lip bitten, smirk growing. “I couldn’t be one to judge though, I’d even go as low as the joker. He’s kinda cute.” Y/N admits, causing Rachel and herself to burst into a laughing fit.

“I think the only freak here is you… I can’t blame you though, being locked up in our dorms in this fucking school is enough to drive any girl to a scar-faced psycho.” Rachel sighs in agreement.

“Shall we go? See who the new bore will be?”

Rachel stands up and reaches for Y/N’s hand, Y/N reaching out and standing with her. Linking arms, they make their way giggling and whispering all the way through the darkened halls to their psychology class, commentating on every other person passing them in the halls. With Y/N’s white shirt two sizes too big, a loose black tie that hung just below the third unbuttoned clasp and a skirt crinkled and fit to the size of a 12 year old, she was the face of trouble. Besides sneaking mass bulks of cigarettes in her luggage back to the dorms after each holiday at her parents house and breaking out to buy small bottles of vodka to entertain herself and Rachel each weekend, she was shockingly the brightest student in the final year of boarding school. The face of mischief, the mind of intelligence and the personality of a wild child, she was quite the topic of interest for her teachers. Constantly in the principles office or being called on, the only thing keeping her from getting expelled is her exceptional grades. Practically growing up in Gothams Boarding School, the faculty has become her family knowing her longer and more personally than her parents ever have. Truth was her family are loaded, spoilt and detached, not wanting to deal with Y/N’s antics as she hit her teen years, sending her away from Brooklyn to Gotham to show her truly how scary the ‘real’ world is. It’s completely backfired though, it’s given her the opportunity to truly explore how far she can break the boundaries, seeing just how much trouble she can get away with without taking it too far. Y/N has taken it too far, too many times. Drinking before school starts as Rachel and her blast music through the stereo as they untwist their hair from the overnight braids they left in, stuffing cigarettes in their push up bras to smoke in the staircase in between classes. Nobody has seemingly caught the pair yet, encouraging them to consume more and push the boundaries even further. They blame it up to boredom, lack of society and more importantly lack of testosterone.

—

Rachel guides the way to the doors of the classroom, peaking her head around the door that’s open ajar wanting to see who the new psychology teacher may be. A deep gasp escapes her lips as she snaps her head back to Y/N, jaw dropped and the sides of her lips in a slight upward curve.

“Y/N! It is a male… and he’s hot!” Another giggle leaving her lips as she practically screams her whispers.

“Shhhh, get out the way- let me see”

Low and behold, there he stood, a man with a razor sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes. Even from this distance, Y/N could see how cold they were. Opening the door slightly more to get a better look, the teacher is sat on the edge of his desk facing the classroom. He slowly directs his attention to the girl peaking her head in the classroom.

“Shit!” Y/N pulls back. “He saw me!” Shaking her hands frantically in embarrassment and guilt.

The two girls share a moment staring into each others eyes before beginning to squeal, excitedly jumping up and down.

Within seconds, their interaction is interrupted as the door swings open and the slim frame is standing in the doorway, glaring down at the pair of teenagers in annoyance through the glasses sat on his nose. Clearing his throat to get their attention, Y/N and Rachel stop in an instant and their eyes widen as their gaze lands on his face.

“If you are students in my class, I suggest you immediately take a seat inside. If not, I ask you kindly to keep walking and not disrupt those who actually are”. The sternness in his voice is close to threatening, almost daring you to say the wrong thing.

“Sorry sir” Y/N and Rachel say in unison, ducking there heads down and shuffling themselves inside. As Y/N passed him in the doorway, the scent of a deep cologne hit her nose. A scent she’s never smelt so up close before, masculine. Of course, being stuck in an all-girls boarding school it isn’t everyday she could smell the scent of a full grown man so close, so real. This sends shockwaves through her body, literally feeling the chemicals burst in her brain from the hormones being released from being so close to the opposite sex. Moving swiftly and as quietly as possible, Y/N finds a seat in the corner of the class, Rachel sitting eagerly placing herself next to her.

“Uh-Uh” The man at the front of the class says. “I don’t think so girls.” Shaking his index finger, he pauses and points directly at Y/N.

“You.” His finger drops to the very seat sat directly in front of his desk, in fact, the only empty seat left. “Front of the class, now please.” His eyes strictly stay on Y/N’s, waiting for her to move herself to her new seat. Disappointment seeped into his words, causing a wave of shame to run over her.

A heat prickled up Y/N’s neck and found itself onto her cheeks. It wasn’t the fact that a teacher had spoken to her in a slight tone in front of the class, oh god no. Much worse has happened by much scarier teachers. It was because it was a man. Who smelt nice. Who had cheekbones that could slice marble and eyes that pierced your soul. As she dragged herself off the desk, taking his words seriously, her feet barely leaving the ground and she walked to the front of the class. Luckily, no other students seemingly cared for the exchange, too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice Y/N getting a speaking to yet again. His eyes grazed over her legs as she walked up to the seat, taking in the exposed skin and landing ever so slightly on the buttons undone on her chest. His eyes seemingly bored but his mouth twirling into a half smirk. Almost as if he had laser beams coming out his iris’s, the heat spread like wildfire down her body to her core, the contact of his eyes felt as if he was eating her alive. Slumping into the desk and covering herself with her backpack, she gripped the cotton attempting to squeeze some of her embarrassment out. His eyes were glued to her the whole time as he slowly slid his hands in his pockets and took strides over to her desk.

“and your name is?” His hands slid back out and placed them both at either ends of the desk, bending over in an attempt to intimidate her into feeling small. Of course, a psychological trick to assert his dominance with his body language. Easily fooled and susceptible to being manipulated by an older, educated man, Y/N’s face grew redder and redder with fear. Or was it arousal? The heat growing between her thighs as he stared down degradingly made it clear which it was. The physiological reaction to being so close to him took her aback, made her feel like a prude, wrong in her own skin. Obviously, Y/N had been around grown men before but they didn’t have those blue eyes that stared at her bare skin below her skirt, lingering on her chest with a smirk on their face.

Staring up with her eyes wide, crossing her legs over and attempting to squeeze the foreign feeling away, her small voice coating in the dryness of her mouth and ears filled with the beating of her heart.

“Y/N, sir” His facial expression dropped to a chuckle. “Hmm” A small hum fell from his lips and he stands back up and walks to the front. A sense of relief trickled down her chest and she felt like she could breath again.

“Quiet please” The class slowly calmed and turned their attention to the front.

“Right… my name is Dr.Crane. I am your new psychology teacher.” Dr.Crane pauses, his eyes scanning the room. He ensures to land on Y/N’s eyes for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and continuing turning his eyes onto the remaining students in the room. “I am a highly respected psychologist at Arkham Asylum and I accept no less of treatment from you. I am here to make you pass your finals at the end of the year and if you do not, that is not my issue. I have no faults in my teaching nor in my knowledge. I take this subject extremely seriously and do not care for your lame excuses. I know how badly behaved some of you are..” His eyes land yet again on Y/N, almost as if he was speaking directly to her. “… and I know that some of you are the exact reason a new teacher had to be hired. Your behaviour pushed the last one away.” A superficial grin plastered his face. “I will not stand for it and will immediately fail you, no questions asked. Got it?”

Y/N chuckled under her breath, amused by his narcissism. Immediately regretting her choice of reaction her eyes darted to the floor, feeling the burn of how intensely he was looking at her. Sheepishly, her eyes lifted off the ground and not to her surprise a look of annoyance and down right offence had covered his face.

“Let’s begin”.

The class passes smoothly with Y/N not bringing anymore unnecessary attention to herself, feeling embarrassed that he so clearly created a strong dislike for her from the first time he laid eyes on her. Quietly copying the notes from the paused screen, she couldn’t help but have her eyes occasionally glance over at Dr.Crane, her heart quickening as she realised he too was looking at her. As the lesson wraps up and students eagerly pack their bags to run out the door, she was interrupted by the stern voice saying “Y/N, please just stay for a minute will you”. He didn’t even look up, not even saying it as a question. The words fell so quickly from his lips it’s almost like saying her name or anything to her at all was a waste of breath. “Yes, Dr.Crane”.

The class emptied and he signalled for her to come closer with two fingers, leaning back into his chair and man-spreading in a way she could peer over the desk to see. That’s exactly what she did, even going as far as to lift her chin ever so slightly to get a better look. The only thing that snapped her away from her day dream was when Dr.Crane cleared his throat, Staring at her through raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

“Y/N. No more repeats of today in any other of my lessons, do you understand? I need you to behave for me. I’ve seen your grades but the other teachers have warned me of your attitude. I will fail you if you do not do the things I need you to.” I need you to behave for me. She felt herself squeeze the empty space between her thighs as the result of his words. Personally, she didn’t think she even behaved even slightly out of sorts at all, it seemed like he was just picking on her. To be honest, she’d prefer his negative attention over no attention from him at all.

“Will do sir.” Considering this was the closest she’d ever gotten to a man in her whole 17 years of being alive and he was considerably attractive, it didn’t take long for her touch-starved, horned up teenage mind to take control of this. In the silence she pictured him bending her over the desk, her ass bright red and burning with his fingerprints. She imagined her underwear and skirt pooled around her ankles as he pounded into her unforgivingly, tearing her apart from the inside and abusing her pussy to his liking. The thought alone could’ve made her whimper. The air turned tense and thick with the silence as her imagination filled the space between them, almost as if he was listening to her every thought as he stared into her eyes waiting for her next move.

“And one more thing. I’ll have to issue you a dress code violation” A fake half-smile plastered his face, slowly turning into a fake half-frown in an almost mockingly like manner.

“What? Why?” Confusion took over Y/N’s face.

“Your skirt is incredibly…” his eyes leave hers and shamelessly stare at her legs, even slightly lowering his head for a second to peek lower “…short”. His face scrunched up in cringe.

“Oh… no other teacher has mentioned it. Maybe you just shouldn’t look then” Y/N shrugged both shoulders, grinning innocently at him.

Her sudden attitude took him aback. “Young lady. Don’t speak to me like that. I expect it to be at least ironed by next class.” His voice liquid smooth and low, almost entertaining her attempt of arguing back. “If its not, I will have to deal with it myself. Do you understand?”

Please do.

“I understand sir.” Y/N was obviously not going to change anything about her appearance for him. The fact that he even suggested something about her skirt made her insides buzz.

“Now go.” He shooed her away. I don’t want you be late for your next class.” Dr.Crane stood up and walked her towards the door, his hand guiding her on the dip in her back. Though he touched her through her skirt, the skin in which he made contact with was on fire, vibrating around the dents in his finger tips. Before Y/N could walk both feet out, a firm grip caught her just above the elbow causing her to snap back at him. His eyes strict and focused on hers.

“Behave.”

—

“How was your quickie with Dr.Crane?” Rachel teased at lunch, grabbing her breasts as she moaned his name.

“I wish. My insides were on fire. I was dripping with every word he spoke.” Y/N played along, nudging her.

“Oh I bet. He’s incredibly sexy. No doubt the whole school will be dropping their panties for him. Practically legs spread on his desk begging for it.” Rachel winked over at her.

“I’ll be the first too. Do you think he’s staying on campus?” Y/N was suddenly filled with questions. The thought that he too may be living on campus was exciting, for her fantasies and drunk escapades with Rachel will be that much more interesting. She imagined herself ‘accidentally’ stumbling into his dorm after one too many, knocking on his door as he’d open it and take advantage of her. Her clit pulsed as her mind played with the idea that he would even want her sexually, it was exhilarating.

“We’ll find out. We should sneak out our dorms tonight and see if we can find him to, you know, stalk for educational purposes?”

“Good idea Rach, come to mine for a few drinks first? Liquid courage?” Y/N suggested.

“You know me too well” Rachel gleamed and brought Y/N into a hug.

—

5pm read on the clock in Y/N’s dorm. The room was filled with the bass of guitars from The Beatles blasting through the stereo. A half empty bottle of vodka sat cap-less on her cupboard that had all sorts of lace bras and panties spilling out each of the drawers. Empty cans of Coke Zero covered the floor, some who had fallen and some still stood upright.

“It’s already 5 Rach, we should get to his class to see if he’s still there” Y/N excitedly jumped up from the bed, placing her empty glass next to the bottle.

“Just give me a second” Rachel downed the last third left in her hand and pinched her nose and eyes at the taste of alcohol. Walking up to the dresser, she grabs a bottle of her Victoria secret perfume and gave herself and Y/N a few sprits. “We probably stink of it. Better safe than sorry”

The pair open the door slightly as move through the crack, wiggling their way of the room. Practically tip toeing, they leave the hall of their dorm undetected and onto the school field on route to their psychology class. Although 5pm isn’t late, the wardens are strict on after school hours and students being allowed out especially on school nights.

Finally arriving at the science building, the girls hide two doors down peaking their head around the corner.

“You go!” Rachel whispered.

“Why me? What happens if he sees me?” Y/N practically shouting back.

“This was your idea… also I’m nervous.” Rachel giggles. “Also, he’s spoken to you more. If he sees you he might not be as mad”

“I highly doubt that. I don’t think he likes me too much I-“ Their conversation interrupted by a door swinging open. To be more exact, the door two doors down swinging open.

Y/N’s heart drops and both girls eyes go wide.

“Who’s there?” Dr. Crane’s voice fills the empty hall. “I can hear you, you know. You shouldn’t be out of dorms at this time until dinner is prepared. Show yourself to me”

Rachel pushes Y/N out from their hiding space, signalling her to go. ‘This is your chance’ Rachel mouthed.

Dr. Crane sighs as he snaps his head at Y/N’s sudden appearance. “Hi Sir”

“And how can I help you this time?” Dr. Crane seems almost relieved to see her? Y/N wasn’t great at picking up hints, especially from a male but his voice wasn’t filled with disappointment as it was earlier in the day.

“Um… I’m sorry to disturb you I- maybe I- left something in the classroom?” Y/N wasn’t even sure what she was saying, her heart pounding thickly in her chest and causing a warm heat to burst on the skin covering her. She felt like she was going red, which in turn made her go even redder.

“Ah, I see. Well… come in” He swiftly turns around, not even bothering to hold the door for her. By the time she reaches the door, it’s slammed shut in her face.

‘Fuck’ she mouths to Rachel, who returns the favour by shooting her a double thumbs up.

As Y/N enters the classroom, Dr. Crane is already sat comfortably on his desk with his head in paperwork. She moves slowly and carefully attempting to not make any sound as the air is pressing down on her lungs making her feel unwelcome to be in his presence.

Without breaking his eyes off the paper laying on his desk he voices “You’re nervous.”

She stops in her tracks and to look up at him without raising her head, her eyes trailing up from the desk to meet his. “No I’m not.” A fake confidence overtakes her words, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“Are you insulting my intelligence, Y/N?” His chin raising to look at her through his squinting eyes. “You’re a smart girl. You know you didn’t leave anything in my classroom.”

“I am not, Dr. Crane. I’m just here to see if I’ve left my notebook at my desk.” She gives the desk a quick scan from a distance feeling the pulse resuscitate between her legs from earlier, a dull ache filling her panties. She only just met the man, it’s as if he had a chemical attached to him that made her react so physiologically to him. How degrading he was, how blunt and intelligent yet insulting he could be.

“Hm, interesting. Considering you had your class with me after snack and it is now, what? 5:30 in the evening? You’ve only just come back now to find something you left here, in my classroom, 6 hours later? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you just came back here to see me.” His words filled with pride and a sense of accomplishment he presses down on Y/N. Enjoying to watch how flustered she becomes and the darkening red that spreads across her perked chest and soft cheeks. The sight of her now standing with her loose tie exposing her neck and white knee socks, noting how the left side is slightly more pulled up than the right, anxiously holding one of her arms in her hand rubbing to relieve some of her tension was enough for his pants to tighten around his crotch. Though he’d only just met her, he knew this would be a fun year for him. How long until the girl breaks for his cock? How long until she can’t stand the pulsating he can almost see up her skirt and makes a filthy, inappropriate move on her psychology teacher. The thought of sexually tormenting her by saying the right things and just enough skin contact to make her melt appealed to him. It got him stiff through both his underwear and suit pants to the point if he stood up now, she’d be able to see his print so perfectly. He wanted to test just how much pressure he could place her under, just to see her squirm under his dominance.

“I think you’re wrong Dr. Crane… I did lose my notebook, clearly not here” Y/N felt intrigued by his ability to read through her, how his intelligence answered him for her. She uses her attitude in a defence to try and bring authority to herself.

“My mistake… Y/N. Please forgive me for assuming such a thing.” A grin covered his face and she knew he was mocking her, almost making fun of how pathetic her excuse was to just end up in his classroom. “If I may, I will walk you back to your dorm. If I see you out of your room one more time this week I will be bringing it up to the higher up, understand?” Y/N quickly, almost too eagerly, shook her head in affirmative. “Good girl”.

The nickname ran fire through her blood, tears forming on her thighs as the praise made her feel somewhat proud, like she’d done something correct and it was her reward.

Walking towards the door this time he holds it open for her, smirking at her and giving her a look up and down on her behind as she walked in front of him. Little did she know her game had been reversed, Dr. Crane using this as a perfect opportunity to find out where his student lived. He would find out anyway, already planning on viewing it on the school system to know which room and block she stayed so that he could make accidental walk-in’s to her on weekends and after-schools.

“You are… 17?” He finally breaks the minute long silence between them.

“Yes sir, 18 in 3 weeks.” She gleams her pearly whites at him in proudness of her age.

“How exciting. Anything planned? I mean- for all you can do in a boarding school.” She notices how he’s inanimate when he speaks, almost emotionless and stone cold. It sounds like he doesn’t care but the question itself is curious.

“Obviously not” She puffs out. This was a complete lie of course, she already pre-bought the alcohol her and Rachel were to be consuming that night in her room after hours.

“I don’t believe that, Y/N. I feel you do things that the adults can’t see.” His eyes are menacing and threatening towards her but in a way, Y/N finds it seductive.

“Of course not sir, you can ask everyone- I’m exceptionally behaved.” Her sarcasm fell off her lips, playfully teasing herself as she’s well known for her bad behaviour. Dr. Crane felt the bulge growing in his pants, screaming to be stroked. He peered down and snickered at the tent pointing up at him. Sir. It drove him wild. He imagined her pretty, lying mouth around him, gagging on the base of his cock as she tearfully looked up helplessly at him. Her mascara smudged all on her eyelids and her waterline, whimpering as moans couldn’t fit out of her mouth. This did him no favours of course, only pulling on his erection and making his chest breath heavily in desire.

They finally arrive at Y/N’s dorm and he almost wanted her to see the hardness that he had become by her presence alone. Perfect, he thought. She lives on the first floor. Taking note of the window placed so perfectly around a family of bushes. She stood in her door way and turned to say thank you. Dr. Crane stood there with his bottom lip between his tongue and glancing at his crotch. Y/N too glanced down, breathless from the bulge poking out at her. Her eyes lingered for a second taking the size of him in as her mouth fell open ajar and her lips bitten in her teeth. The pulse in her panties began beating rapidly, both of their parts begging to be touched by the other. She wanted nothing more but to grab him by the collar and have him throw her onto the bed. Hungrily grabbing her clothes off and leaving the deepest of purple bruises along her tits. She had never felt the touch of a man before but in this instant she only had the image of him rolling his hips so deeply into her she could feel in him the core of her stomach. The alcohol of course didn’t help, sending her mind into a frenzy with false confidence.

“Dr. Crane.” She nodded and slowly started to close the door.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.” Dr. Crane held her eyes in his as she wooden frame came between them. The second he was out of sight, he moved swiftly out of the dorm and out to the side of the building, perfectly ducked down behind the bush right outside her room. His eyes glued onto her window, watching her every move not knowing she was being watched by him. He prayed her curtains remained open as he had a gut feeling as to what was about to happen.

As soon as the door was closed Y/N reached for the tie on her neck, throwing it onto the bed carelessly. The smell of alcohol passing her nose as she threw it. Her small fingers couldn’t unbutton her shirt fast enough for her liking and she growled in annoyance, practically tearing the shirt of by the end. Hooking her fingers underneath the thong under her skirt she ripped it away from her heat, hissing at the cold air hitting her exposed swollen pussy. Throwing herself onto the bed, she snatches the tie and shoves it in her mouth, gagging herself from making noise as the walls were paper thin.

Mouth agape to what is occurring in front of him, Dr. Crane palms his cock through his pants, groaning at the sudden pressure on top of his erection. He hungrily rubbed faster, frustration began to pent up in his lower core as he knew his hand doesn’t feel nearly as good as hers.

Y/N reaches down and in small but increasingly fast motions draws circles on her clit to release the built up tension in her core. Arching her back and twirling her neck in pleasure, Dr. Crane fastens his pace on his own, in shock of how pretty she looked moaning for him. The tip of his cock pulsing beneath the fabric, begging to be rubbed.

“That’s it, my pretty girl.” His hands swiftly unbuttoning his trousers and his dick springing out onto his hand. Blood had filled him completely, not caring of his surroundings or how he may be caught. He begins to pump furiously at himself, attempting to match her pace through the window. “Finger yours-“ His groan interrupts him. “You can take it.” Dr. Crane imagines how she would sound beneath him, how tight she’d squeeze around his throbbing cock milking him for all he has.

As if she could hear him, her middle finger slowly pushes past her entrance. Y/N winces at the sudden contact and a tear forms in the corner of her squeezed shut eye. Her head snapping towards the window. Without flinching or a fear of her seeing, Dr. Crane stroked faster and shorter to release the knot forming within him, his balls tightening up and paining him to cum on himself.

“Oh fuck… cum for me baby.” His head falls back but instantly snaps up, not wanting to miss a second of the show in front of him. “I bet you’d feel so tight around me.” Everything around the teacher had vanished, all that was real was the teenager rubbing herself in front of his eyes and his pulsating hardness in his hand. Pre-cum began to spill painfully slow down his shaft as he continued to pump without mercy.

As the circles become messier with each rub Y/N was turning and her fingers slowing down with each pump, her moans were muffled by the tie that was soaking in a mixture of her saliva and spilled vodka. Bucking her hips up as the knot in her stomach came to a climax, undoing herself on her bed in front of her teacher without her knowing. Screaming in a mixture of pain and intensity, Y/N saw stars as her legs shook out her high.

Dr. Crane stood outside with his knees falling weak, becoming sloppier with each stroke at the sight of his student cumming in front of him. A low groan escapes from his lips as he chases his high, wishing he could cum inside her and fill her for the rest of the night. He wanted to empty himself into her hole and pull her apart to see the ruin he created of her.

“You cum so easily I- fuck.” He takes a sharp inhale of breath. “You feel so good baby- touch yourself again”

Y/N turns to her side in an attempt to regain her composure of the intense release she had brought onto herself, exposing the bottom of her asscheeks and the puddle her pussy had squirted on her blue bedsheets. “Please.” He silently cries in frustration knowing she had finished pleasuring herself.

“So wet for me” Dr. Crane was in agony, tears brimming on his waterline as ecstasy took over. He knew she had finished, all that could bring him to his finish was squeezing his eyes shit and imagining his palm was hers.

The sight of the mess she made alone was enough to send Dr. Crane off the edge, his chest puffing out quick and heavy breaths before a deep animalistic groan conjured from his lips. He stared down at his angry, red cock that shot ropes of his cum onto the bushes in front of him. He jolts at his orgasm and imagines filling her up, shoving himself deeper with each thrust as he empties himself into her.

Slowing down his rhythm and whimpering in pain as he wishes how badly it was her soft hands wrapped around him instead. His hips twitch uncontrollably at his climax and shamelessly places his softening cock back in his pants. His right hand covered in filth, he wipes it quickly on a leaf in front of him and walks off to his dorm. A smirk covered his face for the remainder of the evening, each thought he had of her touching herself sending him back to his perverted pleasure.

—

The next day, Y/N sat down in front of the class as normal after walking into the room with her arm linked with Rachels. Dr. Crane sat at his desk as his eyes followed her into the room and a grin plastered his face. The sight of her at her desk with her legs slightly spread exposing her white cotton panties with her skirt still incredibly short and crumpled sent anger down his spine as she hadn’t listened to his warning the day before, mixed with a twitch in his cock at the sight of her bare legs.

The class commenced as they shared occasional small glances, Dr. Crane taking every chance of silence he got in the class to scan her frame as she anxiously bounced her leg feeling the pressure of his presence around her. He didn’t trust himself around her after last nights occurrence so he avoided her like the plague, planning his next visit to her window that night.

The class had finished without any interaction of words between the pair, Y/N feeling defeated as she thought he could maybe, possibly, just want to speak to her after class again. With a huff of defeat, she left the room and continued her day as normal.

Little did Y/N know, for the next three weeks Dr. Crane had been making his nightly visits to her window, peeping in with his notebook in his hand writing her every mannerism, habit and character down as if she was his study subject. He noted how she mostly wore white when out of uniform. How she’d rarely, if ever, wear no bra under her thin shirts that delicately covered her erect nipples. She liked to dance half naked and preferred to keep her pussy covered when she touched herself. Her undergarments had ribbons or frills and the occasional lace bra would be completely see through. Her room was a mess, taking note of the dirty laundry that carpeted the floor or the empty food wrappers that laid around the elevated surfaces and even the unmade bed that she left every morning before class. She didn’t have much friends, nor did she do much homework. Occasionally Rachel would join her in her room where they’d be giggling and gossiping to ungodly hours of the morning. Annoyingly, the fact he didn’t do her homework got under his skin. She was incredibly smart naturally too and he felt it was as if it were a threat to himself. He also noted most importantly her downfalls, viewing them as a window of opportunity to attack again.

Alcoholism.

He watched three out of five days at least four drinks would lubricate her throat. If he was lucky, he’d catch her and Rachel twirling tongues in an attempt to release the hormonal pressure that came with going to an all girls school. He would begin to rub at his clothed dick as Y/N straddled Rachels lap in a drunken state, placing her soft lips on hers and delicately flicking her tongue across Rachels lips. The girls would break away and smile at each other as a hint that their actions were purely friendly and for experience, Dr. Crane hungrily fisting himself to his climax as he finishes on the same plant that had been covered everyday for weeks now. Her 18th birthday had been approaching fast and he had enough notes of his subject of desire to corner her in his classroom, when they were to be alone he could pounce like predator to prey, having his way with her like he knew she so desperately desired.

—

Finally, the day had come. The classroom fills with students and voices who slowly take their seat in Dr. Cranes psychology lesson. Unknowingly to those around her, Y/N and Rachel had been drinking since 6am. The excuse this time was that it was Y/N’s birthday, using the date as a justification to their intoxication. She was drunk… and she stank of it. Her difference of behaviour, slurring of speech and slowed sloppy laughs, the little trip she did as she walked into the door immediately told Dr. Crane what state she was in.

Perfect, drunk and helpless.

The class had commenced as she stared glassy eyed up at the teacher who much more now than ever made her feel a burning sensation run through her veins. Todays topic; fear and arousal. The liquid had sent her mind into a frenzy which craved, begged, to be violated by her psychology teacher. The words he spoke of the topic was music to her ears, drunk on his descriptions of how these chemicals affected the human body. She was vibrating at all nerve ends with a desire only he could satisfy. Tearing a corner of her notebook off, she messily scribbled the words ‘I can’t take it. The things I’d do to get him to bend me over the desk and break me into two’. Turning around obviously, the note was darted across the room to Rachel. As her eyes scanned what Y/N had written to her, Rachel looks up and smirks in agreement.

‘Make your move, I’m sure his balls are filled living in these headquarters’.

Y/N giggled at her best friends response, clit aching as she imagined how incredibly horny he felt living alone with a bunch of hungry, angry teenage girls.

‘All I’ve learnt from this lesson is that if fear is similar to arousal, I must be terrified.’

Before Y/N got the opportunity to continue the written conversation and throw back her response, Dr. Crane had caught her in the act.

“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” walking over to her desk he snatches the crumpled paper out of her hand. The slight graze his fingers passed along to hers made her whimper at the sudden contact, desperate for him to touch her more.

“Um… I-I’m sorry sir.” Y/N neck snapping back to Rachel who looked guilty as murder.

“Passing notes? Seriously? Are you ten years old?” He practically spat the words out in venom. “Don’t even bother going to your next lesson, you’re staying here and making up for the lesson you’ve lost with your childish behaviour.” Perfect, perfect, perfect.

The end of the class couldn’t come sooner, anticipation fuelling the tent in his pants to become gruelling. Only just as he sat down did he unfold the paper and have his eyes scan the words she wrote. Such a whore for me. To her dismay, she watched as he read the paper and with little to no reaction in his face, folded it back up and sighed as he darted her a stare. A heat ran up her neck and face and prickled at the sensation of her cold hands attempting to hide her embarrassment. So easy, so desperate.

As the room now emptied it was only Dr. Crane standing confidently with his arms crossed staring down at his A grade student.

“Are you that desperate that you would want me to fuck you in front of your classmates” The words practically oozed out his mouth, dripping right onto her as she laid there in the filth. The bluntness threw her off guard, her eyebrows knitted tightly together in guilt.

The alcohol had taken over her consciousness, gifting her a newfound pride in her attempt to lure him. “Yes, Dr. Crane… I would do anything.” Puppy eyes staring up at his piercing ones.

“Anything hm?” He took strides towards the left side of her, his hand grabbing her cheeks and forcefully attaching her eyes to his. “You know, I’ve been watching you Y/N. Such a silly thing to show your teacher which dorm you live in.” Y/N’s eyes widened at the confession, wanting to hear more. Her face so close to his crotch she could basically smell him, feeling the pulsations in the pants on her face.

“You-you have?” Her voice a small whisper.

“Oh yes. Your behaviour is quite horrible don’t you think.” His grasp on her face tightens as he speaks through his teeth.

“Did you like what you saw?” Silence.

A chuckle had exited his lips involuntarily, remembering how each night since they first met he had been ejaculating over the bushes that surrounded her room.

“Do you know how badly I want those pretty lips of yours to be wrapped around my cock instead of the vodka bottles you drink nightly?” He loosened his grip and pulled her chair out, now she sat directly underneath him.

“I can’t help it sir, I love the feeling it gives me.” Trying to remain innocent as if her pussy hadn’t starting to salivate against his words.

“Oh yeah? I can show you something better.” He reached down and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her by the scalp as she winced in pain and threw her agaisnt his now emptied desk.

“Such a whore for me. Have you been wanting this Y/N?” He threateningly stood over her and pressed his pulsating erection against her stomach, lifting her up by her neck and pushing her up to sit on his desk. As she readjusted herself on his desk, he forcefully spread her knees with his elbows and dipped his fingers down onto her cotton covered clit in agonisingly slow circles, earning a gasp from her lips.

“So badly Dr.Crane-“ Her wince interrupting her as she spoke. “Please… touch me harder”

His fingers circled around her clothed clit as he stared down in disgust at her reaction to his touch.

“So desperate, so sensitive, so wet” He snapped his fingers back from the dampened circle on her panties and she jolted at the sudden lack of pressure, moaning eagerly to have his touch back on her. Dr. Crane lowered himself onto his knees and moved her panties to the side. “Don’t be so impatient, you look pathetic” Y/N moved the side of her head onto her shoulder, wanting to hide from her embarrassment from how badly she wanted him.

“Have you ever been touched by a man before Y/N?” His breath hitching as he exposed her, so close to her that the hot air leaving his mouth caressed her slit. “So beautiful. So pure.”

“Never… only myself” The nerves of what was unfolding started to knot in her stomach, causing her to squirm uncomfortably, bucking her hips as a sign of encouragement to touch her again.

“As I’ve seen-“ His thumb beginning to circle her now exposed slit, slowly adding his index finger into her entrance with little to no resistance from the arousal fluid that coated her. A small moan fell from her mouth as she felt her walls stretch from the foreign feeling. “So sensitive” He whispered in almost disbelief. His eyes stuck on her every reaction to his touch as he was in awe of how weak she had become under his him. Pumping harder and faster as she stretched to one finger, curling his knuckles to violently tap the rough spot inside her. He swiftly added a second finger and she bucked her hips in shock of the size increase, not use to even the size of her own fingers Nevermind a grown man’s. A hiss fell from her lips as she snapped from her daze and their eyes met.

“You can take it.” He said encouragingly “How will you be able to take my cock inside of you if you can’t even fit my fingers?” A knot already started forming at the bottom of her stomach as it got harder and harder for her to breath in normal. His lips naturally found their way to her slit as he removed his thumb and replaced it with his tongue. He hungrily ate at her as if it was the last pussy he’d ever touch, his tongue flat and licking her from top to bottom. As his fingers picked up the pace his tongue became sharper and darted in circles around her clit, sucking at her and filling the room with wet slapping and suction noise. Y/N felt dirty, her inner thighs now covered in what she could only guess was her arousal and his spit.

“Oh yes Dr. Crane. Please- I- I’m so close” The knot became tighter and tighter in her stomach as he felt her walls clenching around him. Her head swung back in pleasure as she started hearing white noise and seeing stars. Her legs began to tremble around his face and the walls echoed her cries. As soon as the knot began to unravel he removed his lips and fingers. The cold air hit her exposed pussy and a cry fell from her lips at the sudden loss of contact and rejection from cumming.

“Please Dr. Crane, I’m begging you- let me cum” A tear had formed in the corner of her eye from her denial of climax, her chest heavy breathing in an attempt to regulate her beating heart, head snapping to his so he could see the mess she’d fallen into.

“Calm down Y/N. I want to see those pretty tits of yours.” He could barely even contain himself, he ripped at her shirt popping buttons as his aggression had taken control. Within an instant his fingers had found the clasp of her bra, holding his body close to hers as he glared down at her. Taking in the sight below him for a second before unclasping the bra that attached to her body. The cold air hit her nipples and she stared at his reaction to her, now half naked and wanting his approval.

“Mhm… very good” He practically said under his breath. Cranes cock twitched at the sight of her so vulnerable beneath him. His firm grip from her hip had now found her left tit, pinching and slapping at her breast. Wiggling in pain she looked helpless under his disposal. “You liked to be slapped Y/N? Does the pain feel good?” All she could do was whimper in response.

“It hurts sir…” He sighed in disappointment, causing him to slap her pussy fast and hard. “Fuck sir- please- I can’t take it” her eyes stayed squeezed but open enough to see how his usual gelled hair had now strands that fell loosely around his glasses and the usual pale skin was now red with lust and swollen lips.

“But you’re wet…. You’re so easy Y/N. Do you not have any respect for yourself?” He said slapping at her slit once again, feeling a sense of accomplishment from her arousal to his abuse. His fingers dropped from her chest and hooked themselves onto the top of her underwear, using his left hand to peel her panties away and his right to lift her hips off the table. A groan fell from his lips at the sight of how swollen she had gotten from how desperate she was, his cock painfully restricted by his pants.

“Take my belt off.”

She scurried her hands to his belt, undoing his pants and zipper in the process- anything to make what was to come, come faster.

“Such a good girl for me. Do you want me to fuck you Y/N?” Dr. Crane’s pants had fallen to his ankles, the tip of his cock angry red and poking out from the top of his underwear.

“Please Dr.Crane” The agony apparent in her voice.

“Please what?” Amusement had formed onto his face, eyebrows raised from her desperation.

“Please fuck me.”

“If I must… you’ll be quiet for me now won’t you? Unless you’re so much of a whore you want to be walked in on” he sighed out in almost defeat. His hips began jolting in her direction as he too was desperate for her touch.

“Yes! Anything- I’ll be good- please fuck me.” She began groaning in impatience. Her eyes dropping to his crotch, mouth agape as the print of him exposed his size. Her eyes couldn’t even take him in. With each twitch his cock getting hungrier and hungrier at the sight of her, begging to be unraveled.

With that said he sprung his cock out in front of her onto his hand, a short gasp leaving his lips at the freeing feeling. and without warning, placed his head at her entrance. He placed his hand on her hip and squeezed tightly, holding her in place as he dragged the tip of himself along her slit to pick up her wetness. The feeling of her warmth earned a low groan from him, teasingly tapping his head on her clit.

“So wet for me baby…” his head dropping between them as he held them close. His words were barely a whisper, more of a hum.

After a few lengths against her wetness he grew impatient, growling at his desperation and in one thrust pushing himself all the way to her cervix, and beyond.

“Oh fuck Y/N… fuck” He groaned around her, not used to fucking a hole so closed. “You’re so tight” He said breathlessly.

The sudden stretch of him caused her to scream out into his shoulder, biting down over the size of him that had filled between her legs. The pain of the bite didn’t stop him, in fact made him hungrier. Pulling out slowly and shoving his hips forward once more they both winced in pain and pleasure. The repetition of pulling out so far that only his tip remained within her before rolling himself so fast and hard inside of her happened a few more times before she became accustomed to his size. Each stroke earning a low moan from him and a tear from her, eventually turning into small pathetic cries of pleading.

“Shhhh.. you can take it. Take all of me like the whore you are.” His hips rolled at a faster pace as the slap of his hips caused vibrations around the room. He began to pump in and out of her at a meaner pace.

“Mhm… Just like that.” He had no more mercy in his thrusts, fucking her hole as hard and as painfully as he could. With each pump he became more and more thirsty, hungry for his climax. She was still so tight around him, punching the breath out of his lungs as he scrapped the back of her.

Y/N couldn’t even breath, never mind speak a word to him. Her eyes were screwed shut and tearful, too in pain to focus on the world around her. Soon, the pain unraveled and ecstasy had taken over. His groans were dripping in her ear as he furiously thrusted into her, his lips attached the sweet spot on her neck, sucking at her skin and playing with it between his teeth. Y/N’s body was now being pushed with each bounce between them from his aggression and desperation from finally being able to fill her up. His lips occasionally leaving her neck to stare at her face or glare down at the view of his dick slamming in and out of her.

“That’ll teach you. So badly behaved… does my cock feel good baby?” His hands had snaked up and wrapped themselves around her throat. As she tried to answer him back she choked on her words as he took the air out of her throat. His eyes stared down into her as he continued to thrust himself into her.

“Can’t answer back now can you? So pathetic and easy.” His thrusts followed the pace of his words, taunting and mocking her submissiveness.

The same knot had started to build again in the pit of her stomach as her cries began to fill the room once again. Her walls clenched tighter around him as she felt the same build up as she did before.

“Oh fuck… squeeze me just like that” his eyes rolled at the tightening pressure she gave him.

“Please- let me cum sir.” He repositioned himself to look down at her, humming approvingly at the sight of her with the smudge of her black mascara coating her eyelids and waterline, mouth dropped open and eyebrows furrowed. With great thought he decided to be kind.

“Cum on my cock darling” The nickname itself was enough to send her over the edge.

“Look at me.” In too much of a daze her eyes had closed shut feeling as if she was too pass out.

“I said, look at me!”

The sudden anger in his voice snapped her eyes open to look into this. As her climax hit she cried in pain, squeezing and clenching around him.

“Fuck. Such a good girl for my cock” Dr. Crane fucked her through her orgasm, almost making her pass out from the overstimulation. He stared down to see himself ruining her, watching as she squirted onto his pelvis and shook uncontrollably around him. His hand still wrapped tightly around her neck, the lack of oxygen and overdose of chemicals in her brain possessing her.

The sight of her convulsing onto him and soaking herself around him caused a low growl to escape his lips, unfortunately tightening his grip around her neck as he selfishly chased his own high.

“I’m- mhm- going to cum- fuck- inside you.”

He was breathless with his words.

“You’d like that won’t you?” His thrusts now abusive, hard and fast inside her as he couldn’t wait to spill his seed and coat her walls.

“Please Dr. Crane, cum for me-please” Her begs of mercy sent him over the edge. Without warning, he shot his warm load inside of her and filled her up with his substance. He swung his head back in pleasure, releasing his grip from her throat and meeting her hips again. He became sloppy as he came, knees wobbling and thrusts now kind and gentle. Y/N felt his cock twitch uncontrollably inside of her. His knees trembled on his body weight, fighting to give in over the sweet release he had found in her, humming as he felt himself empty into her and his balls straining from the intensity he came.

Breathless and wet with sweat, he remained inside of her as he lent over into her shoulder, slowly and softly now pumping in and out of her.

He ensured every last drop of his cum plastered the back of her cervix. Once satisfied he had filled her up, his hips slowly removed themselves from the under side of her thighs, his limp cock falling out soaked in both of their fluids. He placed his lips near the lobe of her ear and whispered through his panting.

“Happy birthday”

[drizztdohurtin]

I'm not well versed into DND lore, so I gotta ask , are drow men canonically submissive and breedable? Is nere just being a brat?

OK OK OKOK OK ok okOK OK ONE YAPPUCCINO COMING UP ☝☝☝☝ (clearly I have been foaming at the mouth to finally get a chance to answer this from the minute you sent it) !!!!

It's like sorta tricky to answer but not really at the same time. So in Drow culture (more specifically: Lolthian cities), men are second-class citizens, and the entire society is matriarchal. Women in all ways are dominant and domineering. They don't really marry, they rarely have relationships (romantic relationships), but they are taught that sex is for your own pleasure and for procreation when the time is right.

Men offer themselves to women, and if she is interested she will take them either for her pleasure or to reproduce (or both) - but she's often not concerned with his pleasure.

WITH THAT BEING SAID: Drow men are, indeed, submissive and breedable, but only because they are raised and expected to be that way. Whether or not that's actually what they prefer/enjoy is another discussion. Keep in mind, they're also likely raised to know that sex is not for their pleasure - so if that's what you're indoctrinated to believe, how many sexual preferences would you really have? It definitely comes down to each individual.

(foaming at the mouth now bc I get to talk about Nere) OKAY NERE Ugh god, my submissive, breedable little brat, Nere. Because men are raised to serve women in Lolthian culture (and he is a Lolth-sworn Drow), leaving Lolth and no longer serving her meant that he did not have to be a part of a matriarchal society anymore and he gained a lot of freedom.

Becoming a leader of any kind as a man who used to be sworn to Lolth is a big deal, so I imagine that becoming a leader within the cult of the Absolute started his power trip. "I'm no longer at the mercy of others, no longer at the mercy of women. Now I lead, and others are at my mercy," is probably the general thought in his head. He definitely has a big head about it by the time you meet him.

extra NSFW thoughts under the break:

Despite how tough and dominating he thinks he is, I know for a fact that the second you let him fuck he would have no idea what to do - and he'd be very clumsy and it'd piss him off. He probably wouldn't even last that long.

If Tav is a woman, especially a Drow woman (Seldarine or Lolth-sworn, doesn't matter), it'd be very easy to make him fold. He'd hate to admit it but even if he's the one that's railing into you, he'd still find it invigorating if you retained your dominance over him; that is, make it clear that he's only fucking you like that because you're allowing him to. Allowing him to fuck you is a privilege that you could take away at any moment; he'd actually hate how intoxicating it was to him, he'd hate how much he loved to be dominated.

[thebibutterflyao3]

Marauders Fandom

We need to talk about Lily Evans.

The amount of misogyny directed at this character is truly mind-boggling and I think many of you are completely unaware you’re doing it. There are so many rich, in-depth characterizations of the male characters in the Marauders era because we accept that they are deeply flawed people. It’s because of these flaws that we identify with them, adore them, and can relate to them. These four idiots experience damaging trauma, homophobia, discrimination, and countless character building experiences that allow them to capture your imagination. Through fanfiction, we inflict numerous situations and create relationships that challenge logic, reality, and canon. It makes them powerful figures in our minds!

Now, let’s talk about the female Marauders era characters. Dorcas and Marlene are lesbians. Marlene is a Sirius-variant. Dorcas and Mary are Black. Lily is perfect in every way. Mary is stylish and popular. This is more or less the level of depth given to these characters in nearly every fic I’ve read that includes them. What a disgusting disservice to women.

Female characters can be written with just as many flaws, experience the same challenges, and deserve the opportunity to grow into the powerful figures they could be. The one that I feel is shafted the most often is Lily mother-fucking Evans. The witch who was at the top of her class, compared in canon to Hermione as a perfectionist and know-it-all muggle-born, who grew up with Petunia as an older sister, and Severus Snape as a best friend. You’re going to look me in the eyeballs and tell me this woman wasn’t complicated? She wasn’t flawed, traumatized, and intense? We’ve taken the rich characterization potential this character offered and given it to Regulus Black. The correlations that can be made between Regulus and Lily are wild, yet anyone who writes her as anything but sunshine and rainbows is accused of villainizing her.

News flash: Your misogyny is showing. Why do you expect Lily to be perfect? Because society expects women to be perfect. Why are male characters allowed to be flawed assholes? Because society allows and accepts men as flawed assholes, encourages it even.

I find it endlessly fascinating that I can write Regulus as a snarky, intense, anxious, and a complete prick with nothing but full support from the fandom because he’s “traumatized.” If I write Lily the same way? I’m “villainizing” her or you “hate her” for thinking she knows better than everyone else. Stop treating women like dolls. We are powerful individuals with the potential to brighten or destroy your whole fucking world. Don’t make the same mistake the patriarchy has and dismiss, undermine, and overlook women.

I know Lily Jane Evans (yes, I gave her a middle name because she fucking deserves one). I wrote a 430k+ deep dive into her childhood and upbringing, as well as all 7 years at Hogwarts. I explored her friendship with Snape, her family, and her relationship with James. I’ve done my research and I built her character from the ground up. Lily Evans is an anxious, intense, introvert who made Hogwarts her home and rose to the rank of Head Girl before she left. Sound like Percy Weasley to anyone? She’s certainly a compassionate, loving, and generous person too, but let her have flaws! Let her be annoying, feel inadequate, and fuck things up! Let her live!

If you want more fanfiction focused on female characters, stop pretending they are perfect. No one wants to write about perfect people. No one wants to read about them either. Let women be flawed assholes too. We can do both. We’re flexible like that.

[areus-in-a-little-cave]

I wanna comment on something I'm seeing that is deeply annoying me again. I am glad to see several posts similar to this, though.

Firstly, please stop acting like this is an "us vs them" situation but making the "them" be people on your own side who aren't responding to things perfectly. The problem is the people defending Wilbur, attacking Shelby, and spreading hate.

Do not take your anger and upset out on other people, because people are going to feel and respond differently but most people are supporting Shelby. It can be hard to see but people are usually trying their best and not trying to hurt others with what they're saying. You can both support Shelby and want Wilbur gone without agreeing on every opinion. Stop harassing people for responding differently to you. If their opinion is harmful, maybe try explaining why instead of harassing.

Secondly, please stop acting like every CC is this deeply evil, deeply toxic, abusive, horrible person because they haven't made a public statement about Shelby's abuse.

[Image ID: A screenshot of Shelby's alt twitter account's liked tweets. The tweet shown is by imiziee, one of Shelby's mods, and is a quote tweet. It reads "pls dont be like this. its been 2 hours since he posted it. people take different times to process that theyve been manipulated and friends with an abuser, calm down. instead of hating on people why dont you show support for shelby?? #ShubbleSupportSquad". The tweet it is quoting reads "the silence from his closest is so damning. fuck philza, tommy, jack, niki, tubbo, charlie, lovejoy, quackity" before it cuts off.]

This is from Shelby's likes, it's written by her mod. Shelby herself then likely agrees that this is a reasonable standpoint.

CCs should be supporting Shelby, of course. They should regardless of how close they are to this. However, we know that Wilbur manipulated people, close friends according to replies we've seen. We don't know what the behind the scenes is right now. Imagine if it was you and your closest friends, who you have known for years, and literal millions were watching you. It might take a few days to come to a conclusion, to say something, and I'd personally rather a CC come in a little late than rush an empty response.

I'm not expecting everyone to be perfect in their response, but a response is a response. Again, we don't know what is happening behind the scenes. I understand that public support of Shelby from other CCs is very important, but private support can be very helpful for them. This isn't about the fandom.

There's a difference between supporting Shelby and deplatforming Wilbur. They're connected, obviously, but given that Shelby is another CC, there's more ways to support her compared to previous cases of mistreatment allegations against a CC where it's someone without a platform coming forward.

Stop supporting whoever you want, and do whatever makes you comfortable. But stop attacking people and demanding they stop watching CCs because "all men are horrible monsters" and "all CCs will disappoint you" and "you support abuse if you watch any CC who could possibly support an abuser or abuse". Which ignores the fact that anyone could be an abuser, and abuse isn't a CC issue, this isn't an MCYT issue, it's a society issue. Yes, some groups, especially white men in positions of power, are in positions where they can abuse people easier. But literally anyone could be an abuser. That's part of what Shelby talked about.

I doubt that it's healthy to assume everyone wants to hurt you, to harm others, to abuse and manipulate, and that you can never watch or enjoy someone because they might be bad or support harmful people. Obviously, it's understandable to think that obsessing over a CC is bad because it is. You shouldn't put people on a pedestal and say "they could never do that!". But I'm seeing blogs who have been devoted to a CC and/or their character(s) for 3+ years talking about why you can never find comfort in a CC, and should distrust all of them completely. Like dude. It's fine to like a CC who may not be related to this at all.

We know according to Lexie that some CCs knew about abuse she faced and didn't do anything, in fact they kept hanging out with these people. It's fine to be wary, to stop supporting people who it could be. Because I'm sure there are people behind the scenes who knew something.

But again, the random tumblr blogger who wants to grant a CC a chance to get their thoughts together instead of making a shitty statement is not your enemy! Guilt tripping and harassing people into never thinking about any CC who could be related is not an effective way to support Shelby, and it does not make this seem like something that is about abuse. It makes this seem like online discourse.

This is not drama. Stop treating it like drama where you need to throw around buzzwords. You cannot "win" supporting someone. The only "right" opinion is supporting victims of abuse. People can feel different ways about CCs who did or did not respond. Stop saying people are horrible because they didn't loudly, actively denounce a CC who hasn't responded in one day to possibly finding out for the first time that one of their closest friends is an abuser. That's not supporting Shelby.

[doubledutchratfucker]

thinking about how all the lannisters want to be people they can never be. Jaime wants to be the archetype of the honourable knight that fundementally can't exist outside of The Book of Brothers and whenever he tries to be like them it all comes crashing down, being branded a kingslayer, losing his hand. Tyrion, for all his posturing, wants to be more than 'the imp', 'the halfman', the freak. he's made his peace with the fact that he never will be, but he still gets the women he pays to fuck him call him 'the giant of a lannister' Cersei, in the least transgender way one could possibly say such a thing, wants to be a man. or at least, hates the powerlessness of being a woman in a pre-feminist patriarchal society and wants to be a man to unfetter herself and actually just wield power like the men around her do so freely. (she also definitely isn't cis but also isn't self aware enough to figure that out without any frame of reference).

and Tywin, descendant of the greatest trickster in westeros and the house that lived up to that for centuries, wanting nothing more than to be the dignified, important house that the highgardens were, and though he never pulls it off, he fakes it well enough for his kids to believe they could too.

the epitome of fake it till you make it. but they never make it and never will

[punkeropercyjackson]

I truly believe that i never would've cared about the Batfam long enough to stick around the fandom til now and plan to stay as long as i can if they were like what fanon stans want them to be canonically.Jason is unironically one of the love's of my life as a selfshipper who started reading comics because of him but i detest the 'better' version of him they've created and same goes for the rest of the Bats and all the non-Bats they've ruined to prop them up

No,i don't want to hear about a white man adopting kids just because they have blue eyes and canonical good parents being bashed or killed off so he can replace them.No,i don't think it's right to reduce one of the most iconic and influencel character's in comics history to a chronically happy dumbass manchild who's obsessed with his looks and sex and as an irl eldest sibling i feel personally insulted by what they've done to Dick because they don't know how siblinghood works.No,i don't like that Tim is always either getting demonized and called a bigot and abuser and 'incel' for being a realistic teenage boy constantly dealing with nonstop bullshit thrown at him in addition to already having childhood trauma or woobified and bamfified into a white male power fantasy-Often coupled with sexualization which is just plain horrifying because he's a fucking toddler.No,i don't feel taking an extremely rough and tough and canonically uncomfortable with society's ideas of femininity and what should be romance chinese girl and literally silencing her wants by erasing that she learned how to talk and how even before that she had major attitude and not only feminizing her but having the audacity to not even make her feminine in a chinese way and instead go the white girl femininity route

No,i don't enjoy seeing a brown arab boy who's already a victim of islamophobic stereotypes in canon have even more added onto it by adultifying him either for bashing or simping and even fucking animalizing him so the white boys he's shipped with can 'domesticate'(an actual term i've seen used for him multiple times)him.No,i don't care that Jason being an angry goth asshole and morally gray is hot to you so you decided to erase his canonical trauma response of not being open to dating or sex unless it's with someone he's super close to due to how much hurt he's been through because you see traumatized men as a fetish instead of people and think you're not being ableist because you're a cis woman.No,i don't think i'm being 'too mean' by insulting and saying i fucking hate people who leave out the ONE black Batkid we've ever gotten in all almost 100 years of Batman comics for no real reason yet inserting the blonde white girl who's not even Bruce's daughter in any way because she DATED HIS SON and is basically dating his actual daughter now while doing it in the most mid fanarts and headcanons imaginable and when he's literally everything they love in white boy protagonists from other medias but they refuse to relate to autistic and queer black kids of any kind

I hope everybody who popuralized it back when the fandom was starting out rots and you're foul as hell if you perpetuate it too,i'm 10000000% serious from the bottom of my heart

[spacelazarwolf]

I really hate how often neo ra/df/ems will go on and on about how trans fem's transitions are waaaaaay more difficult and they're waaaaaay less likely to pass, but if a trans masc dared to make any similar comparisons, they'd be fucking crucified.

There are a lot of feelings I have around sex-based discrimination and the difficulties of a masculinizing transition. On one hand, I don't think comparing struggles like that is useful (i.e. trans women have harder transitions).

On the other hand, I feel like the reality of the situation is actually quite the opposite for many people (everyone acknowledges that testosterone makes your voice drop and you grow hair, but nobody seems to want to acknowledge hysterectomy vs orchi, voice training is still often needed, electrolysis for phallo, the fact that bottom surgery is usually multi-staged [even metoidioplasty is sometimes 2 stages] with a lot of moving parts and far worse scarring, top surgery is almost a necessity for passing whereas not every trans fem wants top surgery + scars are easier to hide, face masculinization is far less common w/ fewer options, puberty begins earlier in perisex people AFAB and puberty blockers don't always allow for full height to be achieved bc they don't typically allow you to start testosterone until you're about 15 even IF you were a "classic" trans-since-3-years-old kinda case, the extreme body horror that is accidental pregnancy and abortion and menstruation when that's dysphoric vs not being able to carry a pregnancy just feels like an insulting comparison sometimes and I've had multiple trans women call me inconsiderate for expressing horror at getting my bodily rights taken away bc "that triggers my dysphoria", testosterone is a scheduled substance and has more difficult administration methods than simply a pill, etc.)

And so I bite my tongue and try to be the better person, because stooping to that low doesn't help anything. But at the same time it's so extremely frustrating to be told that you "have it better" when, considering the facts, it REALLY feels like the opposite. There's this level of bitterness around that that I am DESPERATELY trying to resolve within myself. I have a therapist. I know it's projection. I'm working on my own bullshit. But please tell me I'm not alone in feeling this way? I just wish they'd stop with that rhetoric and realize just how difficult the average trans masc transition truly is

yeah it's really frustrating for ppl to present Trans Women's Experiences and Trans Men's Experiences as diametrically opposed, with one experience being Eternal Pain And Inescapable Suffering and the other being Barely A Blip On The Life Radar. and while i understand it's coming from a place of pain, i've also experienced a lot of trans women shutting me down when i try to talk about how abortion rights affect me. back when i was first dipping my toe into trans spaces, i was friends with a trans woman who told me it was transmisogynistic of me to want to transition because "trans women would kill to have been born in your body." and while it absolutely comes from a different place than when cis men try to assert control over me and there's not the same power dynamic, it's still a complete stranger feeling entitled to tell me what to do with my body because of the sex i was assigned at birth. it's frustrating to have people i'm supposed to be in community with play into the same sexist bullshit that other people, regardless of gender, have been holding over my head my whole life, feeling like they own my body bc women and ppl who are forcibly assigned the role of women in society are seen as public property. our bodies aren't our own. everyone feels entitled to comment on them and touch them and make decisions about them. and it sucks when it comes from other people who should understand how that feels.

and like. obviously this idea that trans men's transition is so much easier than trans women's is unhelpful bc 1. there is no one particular way for trans men to transition, 2. not everyone who transitions in the way typically associated with trans men is a trans man, 3. it doesn't take into account how disability, race, ethnicity, etc. play into people's experiences before, during, and after transition, and 4. it's just not a fucking competition????? the fact that a disabled black trans man is going to be more systemically oppressed in society than a wealthy white trans woman doesn't mean trans men as a category are Objectively More Oppressed than trans women. bc gender is like. the worst possible way to try to gauge a group's place within the system. bc at this point, gender is not the most powerful system, race is. and i feel like a fuck ton of people really do not recognize that.

another thing that has bugged me for as long as i've been in trans spaces is this bizarre attitude that trans women are doomed to this miserable life of clockability and will never be able to pass as cis women thus they must accept that their life will be nothing but pain and suffering. and that's just very much not true! i know plenty of trans women who "pass" or who are happy with their bodies, who have jobs they love and friends and family who love them, who have a community that supports and celebrates them. and it has just always rubbed me the wrong way that people think they're helping trans women by presenting their existence as Inevitably Miserable when all it does is terrify closeted trans girls who think they're better off never coming out or transitioning, or better off dying. like. we have to understand that these narratives we create, the idea of the perpetually suffering trans woman and the lonely isolated trans man, are absolutely driving people to suicidal ideation. and if we give a shit about trans people, we should be changing these narratives.