strangepoppy

[strangepoppy]

Tender smut 😍

Still Wanna Play?

jason todd x afab!reader

aka jason puts you back in your place

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), soft!dom jason, (attempted) soft!dom reader

When Jason returned from patrol last night you were in a mood. The second he walked in your bedroom you’d given him those eyes, those sweet, wide eyes. The ones that let him know you want him to do whatever he wants to you, as long as he does something.

He’d settled on pinning your wrists to your stomach and holding them there as he ate you out, only breaking away to tease you about how desperate you were for him to take care of you.

And you were, to be fair.

But now, as you lay in bed next to him hours later, your mind starts to drift into what-if territory. But not your usual, worst-case scenarios. Something new. Something…interesting.

What if he was that desperate for you to take care of him? Would he even let you push him that far?

You’d never really tried to reverse your roles—you’ve been on top plenty, but always with his hands around you, controlling your pace or his words of direction.

But you really wanted to know.

You turn your body to fully face him, making quick work of removing his book from his hands and setting it open on the bedside table.

Your proximity returns quickly, nustling up against his side, placing scattered kisses along his bicep.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?”

“Nothin’, Jay. Just wanna be close to you.”

He hums, skeptical. You’re not usually so forward with initiating, especially after you’ve already had your fun that night.

You shift up onto your knees, climbing across him to sit on his lap.

He grabs your waist and you break away from your stream of kisses. You place your hands on his wrists, though barely able to wrap them halfway around, moving his hands off of you.

He looks at you funny, unsure of what exactly you’re going for here. You guide his hands down to the bed, pressing down on them lightly before returning your touch to the sides of his face.

You lean further into the kiss, forcing him to lay back on the bed.

He pushes himself up on his elbows and moves a hand up to find your body again. You move it back down by his side again, not halting your kiss this time.

He pulls back from the kiss and looks up at you, studying you.

“What are you playing at?”

You smile, shaking your head lightly, “Just wanna play.”

You start to roll your hips on him, making him groan. He starts to shift under you again and you nip a light bite on his neck that makes him still.

“Ah.” He clicks his tongue, “You wanna be in charge? Is that it?”

You pull back to meet his eyes and. nod, your lack of vocalization not helping your mission. Still though, he’s not making any moves to take over.

“Think you can do it? It’s a big job, baby.”

You nod your head quickly. “I can, Jay.” You assert. “I will.”

He tilts his head at you, smiling. “Alright then, sweetheart. Go ahead.”

This feels like a trap. Maybe it is, but you’ll be damned if you’re not going to jump at the opportunity.

In any case, you lay your body fully on top of his and trail kisses across his collar, starting to leave bruises in your wake.

You take his wrists in your hands once again, this time moving them up to pin them beside his head. Now you know he’s just letting you play your game, if not just to see where it goes. Frankly, you’re surprised he’s let you go this far.

It’s a bit silly though, you have to imagine. You, holding down this massive man by his wrists, as if anything you did could do anything to stop him from moving if he wanted to.

You continue to nip at his neck, making sure to pay extra attention where you know he’s sensitive.

He makes a low sound in his throat, something that sounds close to a warning.

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t gotta be so tough all the time.”

The look he gives you lets you know he’s biting his tongue, giving you your chance to play man-in-charge. And you are just playing, really. You don’t know it yet, but he sure as hell does.

“I know it’s hard, but you can let me take care of you for a change, can’t you?”

You start to grind down on him, earning you a low exhale from him. But you want more.

You relax your grip on his wrists and rub soothing circles on his palm, nuzzling your face further into his neck.

It’s enough to make him relax under you, which for him, is a clear sign in him placing his trust in you here. It’s what you’ve been waiting for.

“That’s my boy.” You whisper, kissing his forehead. It’s half condescending, half true to what you know he likes. He loves it when you call him yours, it makes him shut right up and go all heart eyes on you.

You’re basically making out with the sweet spot under his jaw as you move your hips back and forth over his growing hard-on.

With the way his wrists keep flinching under your hand, you can tell that he’s having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Usually when you ride him, he’s all over you, hands caressing your body everywhere he can reach.

If you weren’t testing the limits so much here, you’d reward him for listening to you so well, but you’re not about to bide your time under these circumstances.

You lift up your hips and pull down on his boxers, freeing his length. You don’t do anything yet though, simply ghosting your lips across his cheek.

“Baby…” he groans, but this one’s less of a warning, closer to a plea. Okay, we’re making progress.

You sink down onto him slowly, adjusting to his size proving to be no easy feat from this angle.

He closes his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek as you lower yourself, inch by inch.

Admittedly, this is a lot easier when he’s kissing you and touching you and exactly where you need him, whispering in your ear how good you’re doing for him, what a good girl you’re—no. No. You can do this on your own. You can do this for both of you.

He finally bottoms out and you’re able to begin moving your hips up and down, up and down.

And you try. You really do try, but he’s just so big and even when he’s helping you (which he pointedly is not), riding him is a difficult task.

On a good day it’ll take you out of commission for walking for at least the next few days. Now, you’re not even five minutes in and you can already tell it’s going to be at least a week. Maybe you should’ve waited to do this on a night when he hadn’t already made you come three times with his tongue.

You put your weight into holding his wrists down, hoping it’ll help you gain some traction. It doesn’t do much.

It’s a big job, he said. At the time, you may have been a little idealistic about how this was going to play out. Though, were you even the one who decided to ride him, or did he put you on top? You struggle to pull back the memory now, your body giving the choice of movement or thinking—you can’t have both. Movement it is.

It’s not long before your thighs start to burn and you have to battle just to hold yourself upright. The movement you are able to make just isn’t enough. You can’t go fast enough or take as much of him as you want on each bounce. Though at this point, ‘bounce’ is generous.

Jason’s smile just grows the whole time he watches you struggle, eyes roaming shamelessly up and down your body.

“Aw, poor thing. Can’t do it?” He asks, hand coming up to stroke small circles on your hip with his thumb. This time you don’t stop him—you can’t.

“Jay…” You whine, not ready to endure his teasing. Too bad.

“What, hm? What d’you want? You’re the one in charge sweetheart, do it yourself.”

How the hell did he manage to flip this around? Actually, if you were thinking more clearly right now you’d realize that you never really managed to reverse your original roles at all.

You move your hands to lay flat on top of his chest, a position that isn’t doing you any more favors than the last one.

You throw your head back in frustration, movements halting.

“Not so easy, huh?”

You pout down at him, brows furrowed. He smiles wider and sits up all the way, giving you a sweet kiss. Okay good, he’s going to be nice about this. You hope.

His hand comes up to comb the hair out of your face, forehead resting against yours.

“Tell me what I want to hear.” He whispers.

Oh. You don’t want to. Not after all that game you talked.

You shut your eyes. “Mm…”

“Can’t hear you, baby. Speak up.” He pinches your waist for emphasis.

What are the odds he ever lets you live this down if you give in? What are the odds of him letting you finish if you don’t say it?

Cost. Benefit. Cost. Benefit. Cost…benefit…

Fine.

“You’re in charge.” You mumble defeated, but still making sure to be clear enough that he won’t make you repeat it. Though that’s never a guarantee.

“Oh yeah?”

You open your eyes and meet his teasing gaze through a lowered brow, willing him to go easy on you.

“That’s alright, baby. I can take things over for you.” He says sweetly, kissing the side of your head before pulling out of you.

You gawk at the sudden emptiness in you and move to complain before he flips you on your back, head hitting the pillow with a light thud.

He takes hold of your wrists this time, raising them above your head, pinning them together with one hand.

He uses his other hand to caress up your side, up to the underside of your breast, brushing his thumb back and forth.

“Thought you were my good girl, hm? What happened?”

You stare up at him, not quite able to formulate an answer and not quite sure if he wants an answer.

“Don’t wanna be my good girl anymore? That it?” He asks, brow furrowed with a light pout on his lips.

You shake your head fervently, you do, you really do. You are.

“No, I just—”

“Just wanted to play? Yeah, I remember.”

He lets his hand drift back down your side, dipping past your waist. His knuckles ghost over your clit, not kind enough to grant you any pressure. The teasing brush makes you whine and squirm.

“How ‘bout now, baby? You still wanna play games?”

His hand brushes past again, slower.

“Answer me.”

“No, I’m done. I’m done. Please, Jay…”

“Please, Jay…” he mimics, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

He positions himself at your core, sliding back into you tantalizingly slowly. With you as wet as you are, you know he’s not doing it to help you adjust so much as to torture you.

Once he sinks all the way in, he lets out a small groan and squeezes his eyes shut. He begins to move, the return of the sensation feeling like a saving grace.

He starts to pick up his pace, entering a rhythm that you couldn’t have dreamed of achieving when you were on top.

As he continues on, it doesn’t take him long to find that spot, meeting it with accuracy on every stroke.

You let out a broken moan, his hand once again grazing your clit back and forth in reward.

“That it? Right there, baby?” He knows damn well he’s hitting the right spot, he could draw a fucking map at this point.

“Y—yes, Jay. Please, please. Just let me—”

“I know I don’t hear you trying to give orders.” He says, hand snapping away from where you need it.

“No, I—I’m just…please.” You sound honest to God desperate and it’s enough to push his already light resolve to its end.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

His fingers finally touch your clit with intention and that alone is enough to leave you gasping.

He draws circles over your clit just exceptionally, making your breathing speed up and your legs shake in anticipation.

You look up at him, eyes pleading. “Please?” You whisper, breathless.

He squeezes your wrists, gaze still focused on where your bodies meet. “Yeah, baby. Yeah. Go ahead.”

And it sure is a good thing he said it when he did because you were over the edge like that.

His eyes snap back up to your face the second you start to tighten around him. “There she is.” He mumbles, eyes scanning your features carefully. “That’s my girl.”

His head drops into your neck, releasing your wrists above your head in favor of holding your hand. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, grip tightening as he comes right after you.

Your free hand comes down to caress the back of his head as he finishes, short hair fluttering between your fingers.

You lay beneath him, chests heaving, bodies both lax.

“Was—was I…” you trail off, still thoroughly out of breath.

He kisses your neck once and nuzzles his face in further. “Yeah, sweetheart. You were such a good girl for me. So good.”

You close your eyes and smile, because fuck does that feel good.

#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader

[strangepoppy]

Sneaky brats 😆

Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??

meet the family

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason has a girlfriend???

warnings: none

The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.

Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.

It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.

“There’s a girl here!”

Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.

Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.

“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.

Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”

“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Obviously.”

Cassandra nods fervently.

“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”

Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”

“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.

Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.

“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”

“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.

“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.

Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.

Knock knock knock knock knock…

Knock knock.

It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.

Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”

He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”

Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.

“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”

“No.”

Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”

Jason shuts the door.

A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.

“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.

“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.

And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.

Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.

“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”

His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”

Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”

He stares at her.

“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.

“Stephanie.”

“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”

“Bye.” He closes the door.

He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.

Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.

Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.

Jason shuts the door in his face.

Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.

It’s Cass.

She stares at him.

He stares at her.

“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.

Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”

She smiles and turns back down the hall.

Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.

“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.

“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”

He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”

“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”

“I’m starting to regret it now.”

“Come on. Please?” You plead.

He picks his head up to look at you.

“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.

“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.

He sighs.

Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.

You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.

“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”

“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”

Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.

You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.

Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.

Jason takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”

“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.

There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.

“Hold on—”

“—my god, she’s so pretty!”

“Oh wow—”

“Wait, what?”

”—You’re real?”

“—didn’t place that bet.”

Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”

“I’m—”

But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.

“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.

“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.

Cass waves and signs something to you.

“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.

Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.

Stephanie chimes in, “Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—”

Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”

Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”

“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.

You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.

Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”

“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.

“No wait!”

You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.

You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”

Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”

You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”

He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.

You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”

“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”

He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.

He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.

The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.

You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.

“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.

You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.

He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.

As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his left is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.

“Bruce.”

Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.

“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”

Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.

Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.

Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.

“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.

He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”

Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.

“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.

“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.

You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”

He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.

“Jason.”

Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.

“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.

“Yes.”

He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”

Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”

Bruce nods. “Good.”

He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.

Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.

He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…

Oh god, you went back to the living room.

As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.

“—long have you been together, anyways?”

“Well—”

Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”

“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.

Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”

Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”

A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.

“What?”

#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader

[strangepoppy]

Jason casually pulling up surveillance cameras 👌👌👌

Guard Dog vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II

3 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader

“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”

You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.

You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”

He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”

“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.

“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”

You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”

“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”

You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”

He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.

“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.

You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.

You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.

He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.

You laugh lightly, “What?”

He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”

You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.

“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”

He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”

“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.

He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”

You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”

He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”

“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.

“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.

No, it’s not fair at all.

It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.

You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—

The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.

You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.

“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”

He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.

He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.

He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.

“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.

You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”

You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”

He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.

He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.

Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.

He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.

As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.

You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.

Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.

He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.

He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.

He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”

You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.

The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.

And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.

At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.

You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.

Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.

He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.

He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are worried now, more than usual.

You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.

“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”

His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”

You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”

His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”

“Jason—”

“Who did it?”

“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”

The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.

“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.

“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.

He stares at you. “In the hallway?”

You blink. “…Yeah?”

He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.

You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.

“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.

He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.

“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.

He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.

The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.

Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.

You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.

You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.

Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”

No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.

“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.

He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”

You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.

“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.

“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.

You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.

“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.

This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.

He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.

“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”

“Is that a yes?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”

He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.

You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”

Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.

“Hey, bud.”

He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.

Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”

He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”

He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”

He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”

Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.

Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steals his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”

The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”

Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”

“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” Hood clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”

Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.

“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.

Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”

The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.

Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”

Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.

#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd the doberman #jason todd x reader #jason todd/reader #red hood x reader

[strangepoppy]

I love everything about this. And the dividers are divine.

Guard Dog

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader

[strangepoppy]

Slow burn, my love.

The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all. 

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative. 

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water. 

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury. 

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat. 

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?” 

You peek your head out of the bathroom door. 

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close. 

“Thanks, sweetheart.” 

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes. 

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand. 

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his. 

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on. 

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.” 

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not. 

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.” 

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.” 

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse. 

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?” 

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot. 

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?” 

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over. 

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.  

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.  

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.  

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly. 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.  

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles. 

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.  

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no. 

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch. 

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated. 

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar. 

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.” 

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.” 

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.” 

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second. 

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.    

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over. 

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?” 

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.” 

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.” 

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing. 

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself. 

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces. 

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

 You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.” 

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.” 

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it. 

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.” 

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.  

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”  

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at. 

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?” 

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”      

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down. 

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut. 

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?” 

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position. 

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly. 

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.  

Alright, one step at a time.   

#jason todd loves this stranger #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd/reader #tender love #red hood fanfiction

[strangepoppy]

The dark side of dimension hopping shenanigans. I wonder what happened to native!reader?

Can you Do a Dick Grayson x Fem! Reader, where the Reader ends up in the Batverse and both discover they're Soulmates and crisis erased the readers earth, plus family. They bond and starting to talk about everything, he's comforting her and offers her to move in. Both fall in love and marry two years after, reader is a Chinese-German girl

-

a/n: this has been in my drafts for a while and I'm so sorry about that. at first I was stuck because I wanted to write this but I didn't know how to write from the perspective of a Chinese-German reader. So I made the background neutral. I hope that's okay!

so I loved this request thank you so much for sending it in! I didn't focus on the Chinese-German aspect, and left it fairly neutral. As always you can imaging this how you want.

The last thing you remember is going to bed. Everything was fine-everything was normal. You had work in the morning, you had already ironed your clothes and were thinking about which place to go to for lunch. Everything was fine.

Then you woke up in someone else's bed. The sheets were silky black. And the furniture in the room didn't look anything like yours. You try to wrap your head around it-maybe you had a one night stand and forgot to go home?

But wouldn't you remember that?

You get up with a start and look down at your body. Clothes are still intact. No one night stand, you sigh in relief. You crawl out of the bed and look for the door.

Once you find it, you pull it open. And right there waiting for you is the most gorgeous man you've ever seen. Blue eyes. Black hair. Pretty smile.

"Hi baby, I've got breakfast on the stove but I wanted to know if you wanna try the new creamer?" he asks.

You cock your head to the side. You understand every word he's saying, except one. Baby. Baby? Who was he calling baby? Was there someone else he was speaking to in the room? Were you in one of those invisible dreams?

All of a sudden his hand comes up and brushes your chin.

"Baby?" he asks again.

And it hits you then and there that he's talking to you! He's calling you baby! Your mind automatically think it's a dream. That you may have woken up but that was part of this dream. You were still sleeping.

Your only response is to hum. You watch as he glides into the bedroom, he says something about you being able to sleep through almost anything but somehow you were awake right now.

You don't feel like it.

This has to be a dream.

-

A week into this new life, you find out it is not dream. You keep going to sleep but waking up here. Here, in this world with Dick Grayson. Every night he comes home to you, kisses you on the cheek and says goodnight.

You've learned a lot about him while he's busy. When he's at work you look him up freely. Son of Bruce Wayne. Cop. Heartbreaker.

And you do your best to make all this information seem like old news to you. If you can't he'll see right through you.

There's also the fact that he comes in late at night or very early in morning. While you know what his official job is, you don't know what it is he does at night. What causes him to come home with bloody knuckles, cuts to the lip and fresh bruises.

You want to ask but you know that if you do, you'll give it all away. He'll know that this isn't your world. And you'll be out on the street with no way of helping yourself get back home.

So for a week you keep your questions to yourself.

Until you can't help it.

He comes in at two am in the morning. He's clinching his side and wincing with every step he takes. You get out of bed right then and there. You can't stand to see him in pain.

"Okay you have to tell me what's going on." you say.

Dick looks at you sweetly, "It's just a tough case baby. Don't worry."

"I don't think the department has great insurance to cover you getting beat up like this." you reply.

"This isn't that bad." he answers.

"Isn't that bad?! Dick you're barely breathing right now!"

He cocks his head to the side at your outburst. You curse yourself. If you didn't give yourself away this whole week, you just did it. He's a detective after all.

"You're not my girlfriend." he states.

You gulp, "I don't know what you mean."

"Don't lie to me. You've been different since that morning, you're not her." he explains.

You sigh and sit on the bed. With your head dropped to the floor you debate on the words to use. How exactly do you tell him that this isn't your world. That you come from a world where superheroes and vigilantes don't exist.

"I don't know how it happened. I went to sleep one night and then next thing I know I'm waking up on your silk sheets." you answer honestly.

There's a moment of silence. And then Dick grunts. You pick your head up to view him. He's pulling a jacket on over his clothes. You get up from the bed quickly.

"We need to talk to Bruce."

-

You're sitting in the dinning room. It's quiet except for the faint sound of voices coming from the other room. It's Dick and his father, and his brothers. They're all talking about you.

When you first got here, you were met with weary looks. Apparently they could all tell you didn't fit in here. But Dick hadn't caught it and he was the only person you talked to since you arrived.

You explained to them as best you could. And then Dick ushered you into the dinning room. They needed to deliberate the situation. Which meant they were talking about you in a whole other room like you were a problem to solve.

You wanted to go home badly. But you wanted to be a part of the process. What if they ended up sending you to another world? What if you got stuck there?

The door opens and you turn around to see who it is that's come to talk to you.

A man in a trench coat.

You don't recognize him. It makes you stand up from your seat.

"If you're gonna blast me to another world can we make sure it's the right one?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth faster than you can think.

The man laughs, "I like this one."

This one?

You scoff, "This one has a name."

"Yeah, and apparently it's the same one as the woman of this world, but you're not her."

You notice the way he says it. Like he knows you. Or not you, her. The you of this world.

"You knew her?" you ask.

He nods his head, "She and I go back a bit. She'd want to come home."

"I want to go home too. I'd do anything." you admit.

"Good, because I need to look inside your mind."

You decide to not give him any backtalk. Why would you? You want to go home so badly. If you got a headache or a migraine from this you wouldn't care.

The man instructs you to lay on the table. Which freaks you out. But you try to not let your nervousness show. You do as he says and lay flat on the table. You shut your eyes.

He tells you to relax and that the process will be painless.

He lies.

Once you feel him in your mind, it feels like someone is scratching the inside of your head. It feels uncomfortable. And then when eh goes perusing into your memories it feels even worse.

As he gets to a week ago, you feel your skin getting hotter. Your breath shaky.

You can see it.

You go to bed. Everything is normal. Your alarm clock is set. Your clothes are laid out for the next day. All the lights are off. And you doze off.

Behind your eyelids you see it. How the darkness transforms into a blinding light. You open your eye at the last second but you can see nothing. Just a bright light, and how hot everything is against your skin.

You lurch off the table with a gasp.

In-between your distress your eyes catch people running into the room. Dick, his brothers and his father. Dick comes to your side and takes your hand into his.

"You're okay. Everything is fine." he tries soothing you.

You shake your head, "No it's not. None of this is okay."

You look over at the man who looked into your mind. He's looking at you with grim features. Nothing about what you saw was good, but looking at him makes you double sure.

"He clears his throat.

"She's from a crisis Earth. It got erased." he answers.

Crisis Earth? What does that mean? As you look at Dick you realize that it means something to the others in the room. Something bad, based on their faces.

-

It takes time to come to terms with the fact that you can't go home. It's explained to you over and over again but your brain doesn't let you believe it.

You walk around like a zombie for the first few weeks. Dick let's you take the spare room in his apartment. Sleeping in the same bed with him felt weird when you realized that you weren't leaving, and his you wasn't coming back anytime soon.

Constantine, the man who looked into your mind, told you that the mechanics of what happened were are. You came from one world to the next, and pushed the you of this world out. He didn't say if out meant that the other you was gone for good or just lost.

It makes you toss and turn at night. You feel like you're to blame for all of this. Even though you didn't do anything.

Sleep doesn't come easy to you.

One night you have a nightmare. You can picture it so clearly. That night when you went to bed and everything changed. How your skin felt like it was being burned. How you couldn't see anything but the bright hot light.

Dick has to wake you up. He grabs a hold of your shoulders and shakes you awake. You sob and sob. He consoles you the best he can knowing that you're not his. It's odd. It's unshakable. It's not right.

-

About six months in you have a job. You work enough hours to afford a place on your own. Which is what prompted you to get the job in the first place.

But as you're boxing up the few things you've collected since you're arrival, you find yourself not wanting to leave. Maybe it's because Dick is the only person who knows what you're going through. The only person to show you grace and help you out.

You do your best to power through it.

And when you finally get the last box tapped up, Dick comes bolting in your room. You had planned on leaving while he was at work, but that plan is thwarted.

"We're you just going to leave without saying goodbye?" he asks you bluntly.

You swipe your hands on the back of your pants.

"I know me being here is just a constant reminder of what you lost, I thought I'd save you the heartache." you answer sadly.

You pick up the box and move past him and to the other boxes that are pilled up next to the front door. He moves in sync with you. Living with him for six months meant that the two of you coexisted. You learned each other's routines, behaviors, habits.

Dick grabs the box from you before you can put it down yourself.

"I don't want you to leave." he says.

You look at him sharply.

"Dick, I can't thank you enough for all that you've done for me. But I can't stay here, it's not fair to you." you explain.

But you can see with the more words you speak, the more agitated he gets.

"Who said it's not fair? I didn't say that. Ask me what I think about this!" he replies.

You sigh, "You're not thinking straight. I have her face. You want her, not me."

Dick stops for a moment. He places his hands on his hips and gives you a look you can't read. You weren't good at reading him like he is you.

"I want you to stay. I don't want you to move. I don't want you out of my life, and it's not because I think you're her or that you're replacing her."

You look at him then. Confusion is all you have on your mind. Why would he want a constant reminder of what he lost around? Why would he want you to stay?

"I was supposed to sign the lease today."

"Please, please don't sign that lease. Please don't leave." Dick says.

#Dick Grayson x reader #Dick Grayson imagine #Dick Grayson fic #dc #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fic #dc blurbs #dimension hopping

[strangepoppy]

Naps are good for the soul.

"Wanna come over and nap together?"

The first time you suggest it, Jason's bewildered. Nap together? You want to be temporarily unconscious... with him??

Jason's not a nap guy. Never has been. He's always awake, always alert. Even when Bruce took him in, Jason didn't nap. He thought it was childish but even more than that, he never felt relaxed enough to sleep in the middle of the day.

You love naps. Can't get enough of them. You were born sleepy. Done with work/school? Nap. Worn out after getting up early? Nap! Stayed up too late last night? Yeah, it's naptime.

You're always down to sleep. You feel bad sometimes because it can result in sleeping instead of hanging out. But your body needs the extra rest some days.

Jason thinks it's cute that you're his sleepy sweetheart. He admires how you listen to your body and rest. (Working with Batman makes you internalize his motto: rest is for the weak.)

So one day, after Jason's on patrol for 4 days in a row, and you know he hasn't been sleeping, you call him up. "Come nap with me."

Jason warns you that he's never been a napper. "I can come over and wait for you to wake up. Or I can watch you sleep. In a nice, loving way. Not in a creepy way."

You convince him to give it a chance. Just lie down. If you fall asleep before him, he can go do something else.

So Jason obliges. Lays down and lets you curl into him. Snuggles into your warmth. Smells your scent on the sheet, basks in the quiet.

And, for the first time in his life, Jason Todd takes a nap. For 2 and a half hours.

You wake up around the same time. Jason is slow to awaken, and, for the first time, his body isn't in fight or flight mode. He wakes up gently. He wakes up to you.

"So," you say, sitting up. You're nervous because you've got a pretty guy that you really like in your bed, and you're a little worried you kicked him in your sleep or something. "What's the verdict?"

Jason smiles, really smiles, and tugs you back into his arms.

"I had no idea what I was missin'," he says, putting his face in your neck. "Can we do this again? Same time tomorrow?"

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batman fanfiction

[strangepoppy]

Happy ending! He is such a puppy 😭

I hope they'll find balance in their calling vs marital life, my doves.

yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [epilogue]

Hey guys and welcome back to the finale of the scenario! It's been a pleasure to work with @deathmetalunicorn1 again, and we really hope you've enjoyed reading this as we have writing it. I am still working on a couple of potential concepts, one that you might seen a sneak peek at on here, but stay tuned! If you would like to be added to the taglist, I'll leave the link to that here, So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's enjoy the show :)

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

On the southeastern coast of the Helux Empire, Brentstall Harbor is a bustling and beautiful city built on its canals. Every day there are goods being imported and exported to all corners of the world, vendors showing off their wares on the cobblestone streets before they are shipped off elsewhere. Ferrymen transport visitors and locals alike in their boats to wherever they wish to for a fee. It was no small wonder why it is considered a popular place by the nobility to settle down here when the social season was off, vacationing in summer homes or doing business to keep themselves occupied. At least it was a much livelier place than where Cosette was

Yandere!Holy Knight still believed Cosette Lovelace’s punishment was still light, in his opinion. 

Confinement in the palace dungeons with no contact to the outside world and ostracized from high society? He would have preferred that she would be burned at the stake for her crimes against the Holy Temple of Aesir, but such an execution was no longer acceptable. Furthermore, it was by the Emperor’s will. Yandere! Holy Knight did not want to jeopardize the amiable relationship between the Empire and the Holy Church just because he wished the heathen to disappear from existence entirely. You had worked too hard, too long, to let it be gone in a single night. He could only hope that being away from the temple would allow you to relax your mind and soul and find solace in Aesir’s arms through prayer. But this trip was not a sabbatical where you would visit and bless the people; this was, in fact, your honeymoon. Yes, that is right. You were now a married woman under His Eyes. Married to him, a paladin. 

No one knew how or why except on the day of the heathen’s condemnation, after she had been escorted out of the temple by the palace guards, a bright light filtered through the stained glass windows behind the High Priest, thinning and branching into two strings that tied his ring finger and yours, creating a pair of rings that matched your robes before it disappeared entirely.  The High Priest immediately recognized this phenomenon  as a sign of Aesir’s Blessing. Their Lord has seen your future with His Eyes, and wishes to unite the two of you in marriage. 

With the Emperor and the members of the congregation as witnesses to this ceremony, sworn to secrecy by the High Priest, Yandere!Holy Knight had become your husband, and you had become his wife. While he was quite overwhelmed with the entirety of this event, his stomach twisting and coiling from anxiety and happiness, Yandere!Holy Knight saw that you had taken everything calmly, telling the High Priest that you were to embark immediately for a trip away from the Temple. You did not know when you would return, but…you wanted your husband to take some time and relax after going through such a traumatic ordeal, and you wished to be left alone for a while. 

Now, here the two of you were, having just arrived at an inn, dressed as plainly as possible. Your mother-of-pearl robes and blindfold would immediately give away your identity to the public, and you had implicitly expressed that you had no desire to visit a temple yet. When it is time to return to your duties as the Reverend Sister, Aesir will give you a sign. You are His Eyes, after all. 

However, there was the matter of…consummating the marriage to make it official. The thought made Yandere Holy Knight’s heart hammer against his ribcage as he stuttered out his concern to you, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. He felt like a fool for asking this, but he needed to know your thoughts on it! Marriage is sacred in this country, and by not consummating it, there was a chance that you could be taken away from someone else whom Aesir might deem as a more suitable partner for you! 

“You are correct in that consummating a marriage is what legitimizes the union between two parties, though such a rule was originally contrived by the nobility, not by the Holy Temple. A marriage in the eyes of Aesir is to cherish one another reverently, discreetly, and not as a means to solidify power nor to satisfy all carnal desires.” You said, jeweled eyes peering at him over your shoulder. You were putting away your belongings when he asked you this question. “And I, for one, will not force you to do anything you do not want. Especially…after what you had been through.” 

Yandere!Holy Knight was stunned. You would not push him to solidify your marriage to him? He could remain pure, thereby still abiding by his Vow of Chasity as a paladin. Although he was deeply humbled by your concern for his well-being, it still felt wrong. Like he was denying any happiness that a husband would and should provide for his wife because of his beliefs. 

Instead of finding the right words to convey his emotions towards you, Yandere!Holy Knight coiled his arms around you from behind in a tight, warm embrace. You were surprised, if only for a moment before a silvery laugh left your mouth, though it was so faint that he almost missed it. 

When you placed your hands on top of his own, Yandere! Holy Knight felt happiness and anxiety bubble beneath his skin followed by more questions. How was it that Aesir believed he was the best marriage partner for you? What would happen if another man took interest and tried to take you away from him? 

No. He could not allow that to happen. He would never allow it. You were his wife, his beloved, the person who had been created to be his companion in life and death. 

Wherever you went, he would follow gladly.

Taglist: @sweetbatherodonkey @lxdymoon0357 @certifiedsimpinggalore @queenmimis @mochinon-yah @tonightwrites @thatstrangesheep @faux-ecrivain @navierkalani @yandere-dark-cupid @swallowtail-lotus @abelheilonwife @aiimee9 @ixchelhernandez4 @justcressida

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #green flag yandere #yandere male #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #original work #fem!reader #yandere oc x reader

[strangepoppy]

Background! Back ground for villain and consequently for heroine and the knight and their world!

yandere! holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part three]

warnings: obsessive behavior, profane language, religious themes, implied manipulation, physical harassment.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile devoice or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Reblog to support content creators!

Part One

Part Two

Epilogue

Hey guys, welcome to part three of this collaborated series with @deathmetalunicorn1! I am currently on break and won't be back until the 14th, but I figured that since I had recently finished this, might as well post it for everyone to enjoy! I will make a post when I come back, so no worries, I'm not going anywhere yet~!

On another note, please keep in mind that no bullying is tolerated on here. If there is, then this segment and the other chapters will be removed in its entirety.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what will happen in today's episode :)

Yoo Kyung-Mi had been born with beauty and was taught to use it to her advantage. Her mother knew what she was talking about. Why else did she remarry a wealthy man and make their lives so much easier? It was so much better than barely getting by on their own, trapped in a dingy apartment and worrying if there will be enough food money until the next paycheck. Kyung-Mi went to university, found work at a gaming company and subsequently, a shadow to use to elevate her reputation. A lackey really, but she preferred the term shadow. It sounded much nicer. 

Her shadow was another game designer; instead of being the literal, living example of a dowdy-looking office worker, her shadow wore nice clothes. She always treated everyone equally in their department, helped whenever she could with their next project and had a nasty temper when provoked. Yoo Kyung-Mi found this out the hard way when she borrowed a coworker’s proposal and presented it at the next meeting, elevating her status as the director in charge of Labyrinth of Love. Her shadow had the fucking nerve to show her the security footage of her being at that extra’s computer, downloading the sample from the desktop and storing it in a flashdrive. 

She tried to deny it, playing the cute card of forgetting to mention the extra as being a collaborator because she was so stressed about the meeting before telling the shadow to make sure to finish her proposal on time because time was money. And then the fucking bitch grabbed her by the hair and slammed her forehead against the wall!  Her, the goddamned director! She could fire the shadow’s ass if she wanted to! This was workplace harassment! 

“You’re not the director yet, you idiot.” The shadow whispered in the shell of her ear. “That was an informal announcement, so you’re still an equal amongst us commoners. Honestly Kyung-Mi, when are you going to stop masquerading people’s creations as your own? I’ve told you back in university, during those seminars, that it would bite you in the ass. But you don’t listen.” 

“You wouldn’t be anywhere without me! You cannot live without me!” She spat. Then the shadow backed off, leaving the office as there hadn’t been a confrontation in the first place. Kyung-Mi didn’t know if the shadow was fucking mental or just didn’t give a shit about getting laid off….but she needed her shadow. It was her shadow’s creativity, like everyone else in the company, that helped MorpheusTech make millions from their products. Without them, there wouldn’t be any money. And Kyung-Mi wouldn’t have any ‘inspiration’ to elevate her status in the company. Tit for tat. 

On Monday morning, the shadow presented to the board with a game of her own. And everyone fucking loved it more than hers. Claimed that it was a breath of fresh air from the classic otome game formula. More interactions with the extra characters plus the main cast? And your choices will either boost the gamer’s stats like the Affection Meter, Morale, Reputation, or lower them? It would only be available on their digital store, and they could offer free demos to TubeTubers who have played their products in the past? Sold. The Labyrinth of Love was put on indefinite hiatus. Greenlight Fly Me To The Moon. Give her shadow everything she needs to make sure this project is a success. The company was counting on you, Kyung-Mi. Honored beauty. 

So she did. She stayed late at the office when it was past time for her to go home or go on a date. She missed her massage appointments, her precious Sundays had spent at home working on fine-tuning the game mechanics instead of shopping. Her toys started to lose interest in her. Yet she preserved because she was the heroine in this world and she would not lose.

But the final straw that broke the camel back had been all the shadow’s fault. 

Kyuing-Mi had been eyeing the gorgeous hunk Young-Min from Human Resources for a while. Tall, dark, and looked absolutely ripped in that three-piece Armani suit of his. Oh, did she mention that he was rich and super sweet? Well, now you know. When she had finally mustered the courage to approach him and confess her feelings for him (maybe use him to get rid of a certain someone), she found him with the shadow. He asked the shadow if they could get a cup of coffee later, averting his eyes and looking bashfully at the shadow. His face resembled a tomato when the shadow accepted the invitation, when the shadow smiled at him, and left to go on their break.

Honestly, the shadow should have realized that coveting someone who didn’t belong to her meant being bludgeoned from behind with a stapler. Kyung-Mi will admit that she did….she was a little angry. But if the shadow is dead, the villainess is dead, then that means she has finally everything. Not. She lost everything and got hit by a truck while crossing a busy intersection, desperately trying to search for a job before she lost her townhouse. 

Yet there was always a light at the end of the tunnel, right? Why else would she be here, possessing the heroine of Fly Me To The Moon, Cosette Lovelace? Sure, her character is supposed to be a gamer who got sucked into here and must clear it as a redeemed villainess, but where is the fun in that? All Kyung-Mi wanted to do was pursue after her bias, Sir Palamedes the second-in-command of the Holy Temple’s paladins. 

Of all the capture targets that were created in the shadow’s game, this is the one she had spent most of the time designing and writing both tragic and smutty endings with him. Thank God the shadow never knew that Sir Palamedes’ character concept looked exactly like Young-Min, from his mannerisms right down his little tic of fiddling with his hands when he was nervous.

Obsessed? No, she was observant, thank you. 

With the help of the Affection Level System, her own little playthrough guide, she was able to achieve the objectives needed to enter the Holy Temple of Aesir and unlock Sir Palamedes’ route. Everything was going smoothly until that damned extra, Harry or Harrow, had stopped her from staking her claim on Sir Palamedes. She threw something in her face, and she passed out on the floor. When she, Cosette, regained consciousness, it was almost nightfall. 

Swearing under her breath, she scrambled upright and smoothed out her grass stained skirts before all but running towards the cloisters leading back to her new private quarters. However, from seemingly out of nowhere, two older Sisters flanked her, blocking her path. She was about to turn up the innocent charm, claiming that she hadn’t meant to fall asleep under the tree with a cute  smile  when both of them wordlessly grabbed by the shoulders and hauled her into a cell. A fucking cell! Her! The heroine! 

She asked for food, and was given bread with water. When she was cold, she received a blanket and was left alone until morning. The same Sisters came back, grabbed her again and took her to the sanctuary. The pews were filled, every Brother and Sister was in attendance. The paladins circled around the altar. Her precious High Priest was there, and was her bias. So that fucking extra Harry. 

She frowned. “My flock, what is the meaning of this -” She didn’t get a chance to finish her question because a bolt of white-hot pain seared through her body. What in the world?! She looked down at the floor and there were runes under her feet, then glared back at the Sisters balefully. They had pushed her into a magic circle. How dare they do this to her?! 

Staggering to her feet, she turned her attention to the High Priest. “Father, why am I being subjected to this treatment? What have I done to you, to this congregation?!”  

“You dare to ask such a thing when the crimes against our Brothers and Sisters are so heinous that I cannot repeat them?” Harry said. She looked like shit, honestly, and she probably would look worse if she had that stupid blindfold removed. 

Yoo Kyung-Mi had never seen this character in the game, even in the demo trails….so why does Harry look so damned familiar? 

She watched Harry step forward from behind the altar, past the High Priest and Sir Palamedes. She walked down the steps, and stopped just a few feet away from the magic circle. 

“You know what you have done, Sister Esther. No…You are not worthy of being called a Sister of this Holy Temple. You are a heretic, a liar, and an adulterous beast who has dared to try and defile one of us by using an Asmodian Seed. Where and how did you acquire it?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about-” That was when the pain began again. “You-” And again. Fuck, this hurts. It really hurts. 

“Please answer the question and do not try to be clever with your answers lest you actually enjoy being in pain.” Harry said peevishly. “You know what it is because you were the one who had implanted inside Sir Palamedes. Is this not true?” Harry raised her voice. “Were you affected by this wickedness, Sir Palamedes?”

Her precious bias nodded, his beautiful violet eyes hard and cold. “I was, Lady Harrowhark, and swear by the Oath of Fidelity that I was its intended victim. I dare not think what would have happened, if you had not been there to save me.”

“You heard him. Answer truthfully this time.”

So she did. She spat in the bitch’s face. “Allow me to ask you a question, Harry. Who the fuck are you to give me orders?”

Applauded gasps and murmurs bounced across the temple’s walls. One Sister fainted from hearing such profane language, having to be carried out by two of her closest Brothers. 

But Harry didn’t react. 

Instead, she withdrew a handkerchief from her robes pockets and carefully wiped away the spit. Once she was done, she pocketed the dirty rag. Then she lifted her hands up and moved them to the back of her head, untying the mother-of-pearl cloth. She pulled it down, and two eyes that sparked like a pair of sapphires stared right at her.  Sapphires. Eyes. Cosette, Yoo Kyung-Mi, felt her heart drop into her stomach at seeing those eyes. 

The eyes that belonged to the shadow. The eyes Young-Min said were so beautiful that they took his breath away. 

“I am Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved. I am the Possessor of His Eyes -”

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY?!?” Kyung-Mi screamed. “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME, STOLE FROM ME, AND YOU HAVE THE GODDAMNED NERVE TO LEAVE A PIECE OF YOURSELF IN THIS GAME?!” 

“Heretic -”

“YES, I GAVE IT TO HIM! I GAVE SIR PALAMEDES THE ASOMEDIAN SEED BECAUSE I WANTED HIM! IF HE WERE DEFILED, HE WOULD HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO MARRY ME, AND I WOULD FINALLY BEAT YOU! YOU WERE ALWAYS MY SHADOW! YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO COVET WHAT WAS MINE, YET YOU KEPT TAKING EVERYTHING AWAY FROM ME! IS THAT A GOOD ENOUGH ANSWER, YOU BITCH?!” 

Harrowhark’s mouth closed, tightening into a thin line before she averted her gaze towards the choir pews, where three cloaked figures sat in silence. “Does this outburst suffice as a confession, Your Imperial Highness?” She asked them. 

The one on the right stood up, pulling back his hood and revealing himself to be, indeed, The Glorious Sun of the Helux Empire, Emperor Maximus IV. A tall, broad-shouldered man with golden hair and possessed one ruby eye. He had lost his left one in a war. That was all she knew about him. 

But seeing the  identities of his companions, once they pulled back their hoods, that brought Kyung-Mi’s muddled brain back to reality: her parents, Viscount and Viscountess Lovelace. Shit. Fuck. FUCK!

“It does. Words cannot express my anger and disgust at the thought that such a heinous crime would be enacted in the House of Aesir. Allow me, Your Holiness, to carry out her punishment here and now.”

Harrowhark frowned. “Your Imperial Highness -”

“I am already here, Your Holiness. And I have only exercised my royal authority once since I ascended to the throne twenty years ago. If it makes you uncomfortable to do it in the presence of the congregation, I am more than happy to privately announce these crimes in the palace’s interrogation chambers. It is your choice, Your Holiness.” He, the most powerful man in the Empire, lowered his head to Harrowhark. 

Harrowhark sighed. “I beseech you to not address me in such a manner Your Imperial Highness, nor to humble yourself in my presence. In the Holy Temple of Aesir, we are equal under His Eye. Please, raise your head.” The Emperor did. “In regards to the heretic…she must never darken the footsteps of these sacred grounds again, or anywhere else. What happens within the circle of nobility is no concern of mine. The church cannot be intertwined with matters of the state. We are from entirely different worlds, but we must work together to ensure that our people live in peace. Is this a satisfactory answer, Your Imperial Highness?” 

Kyung-Mi choked on her saliva. It would be awful to be separated from her bias, but to also have her silver spoon being taken from her too? She did not want to spend her second life struggling to make a living! She is supposed to be the most beloved person in this game! Everything is supposed to go her way, not Harry’s!

She watched in anxious anticipation as the Emperor, The High Priest, and her parents huddled together, speaking softly until they separated. The Viscount and Viscountess stepped to the side as the others stepped forward. 

The Head Priest glanced around the congregation, raising his arms as he spoke. “Cosette Lovelace, daughter of Viscount Lovelace. For your crimes and heresy against this most holy place, you are excommunicated from the Holy Temple of Aesir until the end of your days. May Aesir forgive you, because…in my heart, at this moment, I cannot bring myself to do so.”

He then stepped back, and the Emperor stepped forward. 

The Emperor inhaled a deep breath, closing his eye for a moment before addressing the congregation. As he did so, palace guards entered from opposite sides of the chapel near the altar. 

“I, Emperor Maximus IV, hereby use my authority in the Holy Temple of Aesir under the witness of all those in attendance. I condemn you to live the rest of your days in prison, in a cell with no windows. You tried to bring darkness to this sacred sanctuary, therefore, you will spend the rest of your days in darkness.” 

Kyung-Mi’s knees buckled, collapsing onto the carpeted floor as she stared at the Emperor in shock. No. No, this can’t be happening! I’m the heroine! I’m supposed to live a life of luxury! I can’t go to jail!  When she saw her parents descend down the stairs, her anxiety slowly dissipated into hope. No. Not yet! They love me! They wouldn’t allow their only child to starve on the streets like a beggar or rot until she was an old hag, right?!

CRACK.

Kyung-Mi’s face stung from the slap she’d just received from her mother. Quivering, she touched the reddening cheek, peering through the curtain of her blue hair at her parents. Her mother was sobbing quietly, covering her face in her hands as her father wrapped his arm around his wife’s quivering shoulders. 

“You are no daughter of mine.” That was all he said before he left alongside his sobbing wife. They left her. They fucking abandoned her when she needed him the most, these….these bastards! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO HER? WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO GO THE SHADOW’S WAY? IS IT SO AWFUL TO HAVE A HAPPILY EVER AFTER OF HER OWN?!

Then she screamed. She screamed and kicked and cried as the Emperor’s guards tied ropes around her wrists, dragging her down the aisle, towards the doors. Kyung-Mi looked over her shoulder, tears spilling down her face as she stared at Sir Palamedes, hoping Young-Mi would understand she made a mistake and just wanted to be with him, please please save her. 

But he did not look at her with tenderness and devotion as he had in the demo version of the game. Sir Palamedes stood rigidly by Harrowhark’s side, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his eyes cold and guarded. 

It was over. She had lost again. Fuck. FUCK!

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

Taglist: @sweetbatherodonkey @lxdymoon0357 @certifiedsimpinggalore @queenmimis @amidst-the-tempest @mochinon-yah @tonightwrites @yandere-dark-cupid @average-yandere-enjoyer @thatstrangesheep @faux-ecrivain @cassanderasblog @navierkalani

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #fem!reader #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc #tw religious themes #yandere oc x reader #cw religious themes #cw obsessive behavior #tw obsessive behavior #cw harassment #tw harassment #mdni #original work #not spineless female character #manhwa x reader

[strangepoppy]

No r*pe between our couple or any r*pe done upon the knight!

She protected him 😭I love this dynamic.

yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part two]

Warnings: obsessive behavior, profane language, religious themes, implied manipulation, attempted sexual assault, attempted drugging.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Part One

Part Three

Hey guys, welcome to part two of the yandere!Holy Knight scenario! As a final reminder, the content is going to get much darker so if you do not feel comfortable continuing, please exit now. Bullying is not tolerated on here, so if there is I will take this fic down.

For those who are curious about who is the pretty lady featured in this chapter, this is the one whom the Head Priest claims to be the real saintess, the one whom God truly loves, Reverent Sister Esther. Special thanks to @deathmetalunicorn1 for helping me find this pic and writing out the difficult bits in this fic.

So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and let us return to the Holy Temple of Aesir.

Yandere!Holy Knight rose from his cot on the third morning since he had seen you, exhaustion seeping into his bones even when he should have felt refreshed and ready for the afternoon patrol. Instead, he felt his skin prickle, his calloused hands started to become wet with sweat. His heart was hammering in his rib cage. Will he be able to see you today? He thought. Will he see Reverent Sister Esther? Aesir, please let it not be so! 

He could only assume that you were making yourself scarce around the Holy Temple because you were still trying to find any information on the Affection Level while the rest of the congregation began the preparation for the Festival of Stars. It was supposed to be an auspicious time. To reflect and be kind to others as the long, winter dark nights crept across the land. 

Yet Reverend Sister Esther did not share those sentiments. With Aesir as his witness, Yandere!Holy Knight can testify under oath that the newest member of the congregation does not possess empathy. Why? Because…of what he saw behind those closed doors leading towards the sanctuary. He didn't mean to see it, he shouldn’t have. Yandere!Holy Knight had only dared to go there before the morning prayers began because he was concerned about the bell-ringer. In its five-hundred year history, there has not been a single morning when someone did not hear the bells of the Holy Temple announce the dawn of a new day and awaken the Brothers and Sisters from their slumber. 

He pushed the doors open just a breadth and saw everyone, even the bell-ringer, sitting in the pews in awed silence at the beautiful blue-haired woman in a modest white dress standing behind the pulpit. Reverend Sister Esther smiled softly. 

“There is no need to exhaust yourselves by kind to everyone. The world is a dark, cruel place.” She said, spreading her arms outwards.. “There are people we should not speak to, and those we should not lend our ears to. We must turn them away, and only listen to Aesir and what he desires from us. We are his precious children. They are the dregs of society. The common, vulgar, weak, and licentious. They do not deserve Aesir’s salvation! It is through Him, Through I, His Beloved, that we will find our Paradise!”  The pews erupted into applause, some of the Brothers standing up as they declared that her words to be sacrament instead of heresy. The High Priest was in wholehearted agreement, smiling widely with flushed cheeks. 

Yandere!Holy Knight’s stomach churned in awed disgust before he quietly closed the door, leaning against it to steady his wobbling knees. This is why the number of visitors, of people who have come here in search of guidance and love? Because these fools are being deceived by a devil with a honeyed tongue? He fingered the silver chain around his check, fiddling with the tiny peridot. Sister Harrowhark. He thought about you, concealed behind staggering towers of tomes, dark circles under those jeweled eyes and ignoring the growling of your stomach as you continued to search in the archives. He swallowed thickly at the image in his mind, feeling the tips of his ears burning. 

Forgive me, Aesir. These feelings I have harbored for Sister Harrowhark are threatening to sear my flesh and bone. Protect me, Aesir, from Reverend Sister Esther and her wickedness. Guide me, Aesir, what can I do? What must I do?  He prayed to his God. He recited the penance of Lust and Sloth, then two verses from the Book of Salvation and then pulled himself away, hoping that the morning sparring sessions and afternoon patrol would be more than enough to keep him busy until he could sneak into the kitchens when the cook was on her break. You might have a responsibility to protect the congregation as Aesir’s Eyes, but you will not do it by exhausting yourself like this, especially if you haven’t eaten a single piece of bread. Yandere!Holy Knight will be absolutely furious if he had to find out the hard way, which is seeing you passed out at a desk, using your arms as a makeshift pillow with [Hair Color] strands all over the place. 

And he did. And he had every right to be angry at you. But he willed his boiling anger to a low simmer, focusing his efforts on cajoling you to rise from the chair, carefully placing a hand on around your shoulders as he led out into the hall, to your quarters. He had gotten only as far as to have you eat some sliced meat, bread, and a bit of cheese. You promised that you would take a bath as soon as he left. 

Yandere! Holy Knight could only believe your words, though he had a few of his own to say to you. 

“Lady Harrowhark, please…you cannot keep doing this to yourself! If you have seen what I have seen happening to the Holy Temple, to our home, then you must know that we must be at our full strength to combat this wickedness!”

You didn’t even try arguing back. You were just as upset as he was, and had seen what he had seen through secret passages located throughout the temple. You both knew who the culprit was, but without solid evidence, all claims would be dismissed as accusations created from jealousy and hate. Seeing the downtrodden frown, how you calmly dismissed him and turned away to look out the stained-glass window….the memory fractured Yandere! Holy Knight’s heart even more. 

After his early afternoon patrol, Yandere! Holy Knight went to the training grounds. He swung, parried, and lunged at an invisible enemy until the wooden sword splintered at the handle, sharp pieces slicing through the palm of his hand. He inhaled deeply, feeling the pain throbbing followed the warm wetness of his blood trickling down his fingers. He carefully covered it with his other hand. He needed to get it treated.

He cut through the training grounds, entering the cloister leading to the hospital wing  when he heard a silvery voice call out to him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Reverend Sister Esther running towards him, face flushed pink and the hem of her skirts lifted just enough to expose her ankles. An expression might have been seen as the look of someone who is in love….but Yandere!Holy Knight felt nothing except disgust and wariness. He straightened his spin and just kept moving, quickening his pace. 

Or he would have liked to. He couldn’t act too out of the ordinary. After all, he and Lady Harrowhark are the only ones immune to the Affection Level spell casted by Reverend Sister Esther. Inhaling a deep breath through his nostrils, he lowered his head to the heathen. 

“Reverend Sister, how may I help you?” He asked cooly.

“You’re hurt!” She gasped. Her blue eyes were wide with false concern, the faintest hint of cunning wickedness glimmering in the sunlight as she ever so slowly cradled his injured hand in both of her hands, fingers languidly grazing the outside of his palm. Yandere!Holy Knight felt his skin prickle. Aesir, grant me strength! He exclaimed in his mind. He was about to pull away when he felt something enter the open cut with a soft shick. He almost missed it. He looked at her, now frightened. 

“What did you -” His words were soon cut off when she covered his wound with a handkerchief that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. “At least bind it to slow the blood flow!” Esther smiled brightly. He nodded, quickly pulling his hand away. That was when he felt it. Nausea. Then something crawling under his skin, like the roots of a tree, slithering and making his body hot and please Aesir help help help HELP!

Yandere!Holy Knight stumbled backwards, landing on his side and the warm fog in his mind worsened. He couldn’t think….he…needed….he needed what? What? WHAT?!  When he glanced up at Reverend Sister Esther, his hammering heart thudded harder against his ribcage. The look on her face was foul, evil.

Like a cat who had finally caught a canary in its claws. 

Terrified out of his mind, he pulled himself up from the stone floor and ran. He ran until the exertion and whatever poison that she had placed in his body had taken its toll. He vaguely remembered entering a room, but not locking it. Another wave of pain surged through his body, and more blood…it went south. Yandere!Holy Knight felt ashamed, disgusted. And he needed you. He needed you so much right now. 

Somehow, Reverend Sister Esther found him. And her grin had become impossibly wider at seeing like this. She was giggling. Kneeling in front of him, her dainty hand reached out and stroked his reddening cheek, causing the already overwhelming heat in his body to bloom again and make his…problem get worse. 

“Now, let’s have a little fun, shall we~? My dear, sweet little bias~.” Esther purred, dragging her hand down his face, his neck, and then to his chest before she gave a gentle push. When he collided with the floor, she raised her skirts and straddled his hips. Yandere! Holy Knight tried to push her away, but he felt so damned weak. What in Aesir’s name had she done to him?!

“What is the meaning of this?” A cold, calm voice broke through the stifling silence. Esther stiffened, her beautiful face contouring into disbelief and anger, the irises of her eyes becoming slitted like a cat’s before she looked over her shoulder. He did too, and saw a tired-looking woman in mother-of-pearl robes. You. 

“You!”

“I asked you a question. Answer me.”

“I don’t answer to an extra, screw off!”

The uncomfortable heat was soon replaced with relief, followed by the lewd desire to have The Possessor of the All-Seeing Eyes in his arms and succumb to his touch. So lost in this haze of lust, Yandere!Holy Knight barely registered seeing you stride across the room and flinging white powder into Esther’s face. The heretic immediately fell forward, and you easily caught her, though she was heavier than she looked. Glancing around the room, you turned your attention to him. 

“Get to my room. I’ll be right there, I promise.”  You commanded quietly, swinging one of the heretic’s arms over your shoulder and placing your hand around her waist. You looked left, then right, and then disappeared, the tail of your robes billowing from the corner of the doorway. Exhaling a shaky breath, Yandere!Holy Knight stood up and went to your room as fast as his legs could carry him. 

He waited on your bed for ten agonizing minutes before the doorknob turned to the right, and you entered, quickly locking the door behind you. Yandere!Holy Knight barely contained a sob upon seeing your ethereal form. Unlike the disgust he felt earlier in Esther’s presence, he only felt relief. Comfort. And another feeling blossoming deep inside of him, something that he liked as he gazed upon your scorching eyes. 

He watched as you went to the bookcase on the opposite side of the room, pulling a heavy book from the second shelf on the left. He heard the grinding gears of the secret passage spring to life click-click-click-click-shhnk. 

“Come.” You said urgently, grabbing him by the arm and hoisting him upwards. Hot energy coursed through him, his body screaming for wanton release even as you repositioned your body in the exact form as you had carried Esther. You stumbled down the stone steps, almost losing your footing more than once on the way down because he tried to press her against the wall, to press her body against his, anything to make him feel good, to make you feel good - it wasn’t his fault!

You just scowled. “When this is over, you and I are going to have a very long talk.”

“So…long as I am with you…I do not care. Please, Lady Harrowhark, touch me.” Yandere!Holy Knight moaned. “Touch me, the light of my life, and let my desire for you burn inside of me forever more, a pyre that no can ever extinguish -”

“Aesir forgive me but shut the ever-living fuck up and sit down on the bed, Sir Palamedes.” You snapped impatiently. Yandere!Holy Knight quickly obeyed the command, not wanting to anger God’s Beloved any further because if you are angry, you will not touch him like you are doing now. 

Seemingly satisfied with his obedience, you quickly rummaged around the workspace and collected supplies but not before you illuminated the secret room with a flick of your wrist. You threw a rag in a bowl of cold water, you pushed him on his back to lie down, and rung out the cloth, laying it over his face. 

“This is going to hurt.” You warned him.

“I know.” He said.“

You need to keep still.”

“I know.”

“I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

“I know.” Yandere!Holy Knight whispered. “I know…you would never hurt me…as Reverend Sister Esther. No, the heretic would have. So please…do whatever you want with me just please let me feel you, please.” He pleaded. Instead of receiving an answer, he heard the clink of a knife being removed from its leather sheath, and his shirt being ripped open from the bottom to the top. Yandere!Holy Knight arched his back, moaning.

“Lady Harrowhark!”

“Shut. Up.” 

That was the last thing he remembered before Yandere!Holy Knight lost consciousness. When he awakened, there was no trace of the fog in his mind nor the heat in his body. He could think. He could feel his pulse…it was normal. His eyes widened. Wait, if this is normal!

He shot up from the bed, the rag falling from his face. He saw you hunched over the desk, panting loudly and grunting before you turned around. In your hands was a large jar, filled with holy water and a writhing black mass of roots. He paled. What was that thing? Is that what the heathen had placed inside of his hand, letting it fester? What you had removed from his body with your holy magic? Dear Aesir. 

When you turned around, saw him…you smiled. You smiled with those jeweled eyes and flushed face and blood sweat trickling down your nose and mouth. You staggered towards him, trying hard to keep yourself steady. And you did until you reached the edge of the bed….and you fell forward. Yandere!Holy Knight caught you. He hadn’t expected to feel as weak as he did. It took a tremendous amount of effort to pull you up from where you had landed, right on top of his legs, and repositioned himself…so that you could lay your head against his chest. 

He remembered meeting with Esther in the cloister. She treated his hand, then…

Murky violet orbs widened in horror and shame as one fragmented memory after another fell into place, filling the gap between then and now. He looked down at you. How could he have called out to you like that, shamelessly lusting after you like the foolish, licentious sinner that he is. Yet you risked your health yet again, this time to save his soul from damnation. 

Yandere!Holy Knight felt tears welling up in the back of his eyes, choking back a sob as disgust and guilt somersaulted in his stomach. 

How could you forgive him after what he had done to you? What he might have done? He didn’t deserve it. It was his fault for allowing Sister Esther to get close to him when you told him to stay away from her. He turned to the jar that was rattling on the desk, the….seed, if he could even call it that, wriggle and tap its inky tentacles incessantly against the glass. It wanted out. 

And as much as he wanted to destroy that thing with his own hands, you would never keep this foul thing unless you had planned to use it as the evidence they needed to convict Esther of her crimes against the Holy Temple of Aesir. 

In a moment of selfishness, Yandere!Holy Knight took one of your hands and pressed his lips against the knuckles. He recited the penance of Lust in his mind twice, murmuring under his breath. He prayed for Aesir’s forgiveness, for your forgiveness, for you to wake up soon. 

The Holy Temple needed you. You were the only one who could save the congregation from being condemned by the Empire. It was his home, your home. 

He needed you. You were the only one who could ever quench the flames of his desire, even if you were to never feel the same towards him for the rest of your days. So long as you are by his side, he will never ask for anything else. 

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

Taglist

@certifiedsimpinggalore

@queenmimis

@amidst-the-tempest

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@average-yandere-enjoyer

@thatstrangesheep

@lxdymoon0357

@faux-ecrivain

@cassanderasblog

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #green flag yandere #yandere male #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc x reader #original work #manhwa trope x reader

[strangepoppy]

The knight is cute, the heroine is down to earth. What's not to love?

yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part one]

Warnings: obsessive behavior, religious themes, implied manipulation, brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own

Internet consumption!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Hey guys, before we get started, I’d like to address a couple of things.

First, the content here is a bit darker than my previous works, as stated in the warnings above. If you or someone you know is struggling, you aren’t alone. There are many support services that are here to help. I will leave a link to some of these sources in this link here. Tumblr also has their messaging system, Kokobot. I want you guys, my audience to feel safe when reading my stories. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, that’s okay. Please prioritize your physical and mental health, above all else.

Second, bullying is not tolerated. If I see any sign of it on here, I will have no choice but to take this story down. Finally, there will be some references in here from The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir, such as Harrowhark and Palamedes. I claim no ownership over this magnificent series as it belongs to the rightful creator.

With that being said guys, sit back, relax....and perhaps begin to pray for salvation. Because this is past the point of no return :)

Part Two

Part Three

Yandere!Holy Knight had always believed he was meant to serve a greater purpose. Not to accumulate wealth and power like his older brother, only to abuse his authority and hurt people who did not deserve a whipping for a cup of tea that was two degrees too cold to his liking. No. He wanted to help others in his own way, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps…that was why it had been so easy to leave his family and find his place here in the Holy Temple of Aesir. Or it was because he is the second son, the spare heir to the Emery viscounty, that his parents allowed him to leave without so much as a second thought. 

He had given up his name when he was baptized by the high priest, and was reborn as Sir Palamedes. Five years have passed, and he has ascended to becoming the vice commander of the Holy Temple’s paladins.He must protect the Holy Temple, its clergy, and the people of the Helux Empire. This is the oath he took, and is proud to uphold. Yandere!Holy Knight, however, wished the Reverend Sister would take better care of herself. 

The Reverend Sister is a title given to the child chosen by Aesir to deliver His message and protect His children from the wicked monsters who come forth from the swirling, black puddles of miasma. Only the Reverend Sister’s magic can purify the darkness of such an ancient evil. In his mind, there is no one more fitting to being the Reverend Sister than you. Harrowhark. 

God’s Beloved. 

The Possessor of Aesir’ All Seeing Eyes. 

The Holiest Woman in the World.

There are many monikers tied to you. All of them are true, and all of the rumors couldn’t be further from the truth when the bards sang songs of your innocence, your enchanting beauty and ‘swan like neck’. If you had ever heard these lyrics, you would promptly take off your shoe and throw it at them with a low, irritated hiss before stomping away in a huff. 

 Yandere!Holy Knight would probably try very hard to not laugh at seeing, or at least imagining, your annoyance. 

Yes, you were the Reverend Sister  but you were not a naive beauty as everyone believed you to be. You were grumpy, diligent, kind-hearted, and knew the world can be a dark, cruel place. 

The Holy Temple of Aesir had saved you in your darkest hour; instead of throwing yourself into the cold, murky river as a means to escape from the wretched place you had come from, a low-ranking priest had found you. He took you in, taught you everything there is to know about prayer, penitence, and how to embrace the worst part of yourself  even when you wanted to so badly rip it out because it is still part of you. What you had experienced, the hardships, the sorrows…that is life. And to understand that no mortal is perfect, to accept it and use the gifts Aesir had bestowed upon you to help others…that is when you will truly see how beautiful the world is through His Eyes. 

His Eyes that you now possessed. 

No one had dared to look upon them in fear of incurring Aesir’s wrath…yet Yandere!Holy Knight did when he was in the Holy Temple’s care for a year before you arrived, a young man at the age of fifteen. He saw them and thought they looked like a pair of jewels. Sapphires that glowed brightly under the sunlight, and could see everything. Past, present, and future for a brief time. Due to the physical and mental strain that these Eyes have placed on your body even when it was to create illusions or obscure the sight of magical beasts, you weren’t allowed to overuse them. That was why the High Priest insisted that you wore a veil over your face.

You opted to have the seamstress to make adjustments to your mother-of-pearl robes and add a hood to hide yourself from the world. You might have also bribed her to create a matching cloth to wear over your eyes, enchanted so that you could see through it without putting further strain on your vision. 

Rebellious. But you were perfect in Yandere!Holy Knight’s eyes. A Reverend Sister who cared for the congregation, the people, and his men far more than she lets others believe. 

He thought this peaceful life would continue as it had for the last ten years. To watch you from afar and know that you were safe so long as he still held a sword in his hands. But nothing lasts forever. 

One day, the High Priest had cloistered the clergy in the temple’s pews and announced that Aesir had shown him in a vision that the Reverend Sister who had been with them for these past ten years was not the true child of the Creator. It is in fact the young lady standing at his side. A dainty, beautiful lady with pale blue hair that fell past her back, gentle robin’s egg eyes darting from the carpeted floor to the clergy and then to the High Priest. She wore a  strapless white dress with matching gloves that stretched all the way to her elbows. Pear-shaped dangled from her ears, and black lace with a single blue rose attached to the side coiled around her swanlike throat.This stranger, this…noblewoman, is all but ready to accept her duties. From this moment forward, she would be known as Esther. 

“Let it be known, Brothers and Sisters, that the one known as Harrowhark shall be sent into exile for her sins against Aesir. That is the will of the Creator, so let it be so.” 

Yandere!Holy Knight’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach at the High Priest’s words. What? He thought. This cannot be true! You are the Reverend Sister, you are God’s Beloved! Why would this man (this fool a nasty voice in the back of his mind growled) deny it now? Ten years. For ten long years, you have been a faithful bride of the Holy Temple. Now, after everything you have down, the recklessness in trying to sacrifice your life for his men on missions, reaching out to the people and listening to them confess their sins in the prayer box because you did not wish to see them suffer and try to offer guidance without overstepping your boundaries….you would just be cast aside as if you were nothing to them? To the Holy Temple, to him?

No. Yandere!Holy Knight cannot and will not accept it. He knows the High Priest. He knows this man would never dare to do something so stupid lest he will incite the anger of the clergy, the people, and the Emperor himself, who is a religious man and knows the Reverend Sister. 

Something is not right. 

He was not the only one who believed it. You did too. You had told him as much later that night, when you found him at the training grounds, trying to relieve his anger by practicing his swings with his two-handed longsword. You were still here. You hadn’t left like the High Priest had ordered you to do so. Thank Aesir. 

If he were a lesser man, he would have scooped you up in his arms and laughed joyously, waking up everyone else in the barracks and gotten smacked across the face for pushing past your five-foot rule. But he didn’t.

You had not been blessed with His Eyes just to pretend that you will unconditionally obey the High Priest’s request to leave and be branded a heretic, a false Reverend Sister, for the rest of your life. No. The woman who will be baptized as Reverend Sister Esther and become God’s Beloved is not who the High Priest believes she is, regardless that this chain of events are happening because of a vision. 

All the sacred texts in the library, all the prayers you have had to learn by heart, not a single one of them contained the words Affection Level. It did not explain why those floated over this stranger’s head, why its dark-pink smoke was encircling the High Priest, a man who possessed just as much holy magic as you did, if not more due to age and experience. You had strained your sight,  vision becoming blurry just to see what was the thing under Affection Level. It was…a bar with lines? Measured in tenth percentiles, from ten to one hundred? What is this sorcery? It isn’t anything you have ever seen before, not even when you have visited monasteries across the Empire for yearly sabbaticals. How did this woman attain it? 

This magic did not possess the gentle warmth of Aesir’s touch, his love towards all creation without expecting anything in return. 

Take. Take. Take. Conquer. Move on. Take. 

That was what you could feel, and you had no doubt in your mind at that very moment, the High Priest’s words going from one ear and out the other. There is an evil presence in the Holy Temple of Aesir. This woman, Esther, is a harbinger. An anchor. She was tied to this evil and she was reveling in it as if she had finally, finally gotten what she desired without lifting a finger. And that terrified you more than anything, the possibility that this sorcery can brainwash the entire congregation and no one would be the wiser. 

Shit. What the fuck is going on? Forgive me, Aesir, for saying such vulgar words in your sacred House, but what the ever-living fuck is going on?

If the sight of seeing this Affection Level  and its abilities did not rattle your bones, it was seeing two tiny names hidden right under the meter. The High Priest…and Sir Palamedes. And inside tiny square boxes right, no, on the left side of their names were the words capture target. 

Yandere!Holy Knight stared at you in disbelief, your confession of what you had seen earlier this afternoon ringing in his ears. “You believe that this woman will bring harm to the Holy Temple, Sister Harrowhark?” He said. “If that is true, then why would the High Priest risk the safety of the congregation? Is it because of the influence of this…Affection Level? And why is my name there?” He was aghast. “How could anyone think of conquering someone if they do not consent to it or do not desire such a thing?”

Like the Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Temple, he had taken a vow of chastity alongside the oaths to protect them and the countrymen. Only clergymen or paladins who were high-ranking would be allowed to marry so long as the union was approved by both the High Priest and the Emperor. 

You blinked at him, jeweled eyes glowing in sympathy as you slowly shook your head. “I do not know, truly. But if Reverend Sister Esther is coming after you, then you must put your safety and well-being above all else. Even my own.” You put your gloved hands in your mother-of-pearls robes, digging around in the pockets before you pulled out a drop-shaped peridot on a silver chain. You placed it in his open palm, and pushed his fingers forward to clench the hand into a loose fist. 

Murky, violet orbs looked at you in confusion, astonishment, and fear. “Lady Harrowhark?” He whispered. 

“Keep this on you, Sir Palamedes. The holy magic stored in here should be able to protect you from whatever this evil is, or at least I hope so. I was able to persuade the High Priest to postpone the announcement of Reverend Sister Esther’s baptism and my exile until after the Festival of the Stars. That will give us one week, while the others are celebrating Aesir’s creation of the world, to find everything we need to know about the Affection Level and how to remove it from Sister Esther before it can corrupt anyone else in the congregation.” You then stepped away from him, turning your back towards Yandere!Holy Knight and throwing the hood of your robe over your head.

 “Recite your prayers, steady your hand, and for Aesir’s sake keep your distance from that woman.”

Then you left the training grounds, disappearing into the night and back towards the Sisters’ sleeping quarters, leaving Yandere! Holy Knight alone in his troubled thoughts. He knelt at his bedside that night, clutching the talisman you had given in his clasped hands as he dutifully murmured the prayers of Fidelity, Honor, and Strength. To protect him from evil’s temptation. 

May Aesir grant him the strength to remain pure of heart and mind before he succumbs to his unholy feelings towards the Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved and the woman he should not have fallen in love with.

Taglist

@impeakcharacterdesign

@faesdreaming

@faux-ecrivain

@majestichugs

@abelheilonwife

@suiana

@lxdymoon0357

@dxmoness

@tired-of-life-86

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@lovely-nightmares

@yandere-dark-cupid

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@cinderella-dreaming

@dragonempress18

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere manhwa x reader #ns.fw #yandere!holy knight #tw obsession #tw sui ideation #tw manipulation #minors do not interact #mdni #fem!reader #not spineless female character

[strangepoppy]

Empress with dignity, sympathetic mistress with agenda, good family of mistress! It hits all my favourite things I want to see more in Manhwa!

Emperor... Spoiled, self-centered little shit. I hope empress uses him dry for benefit of her birth country, empire and herself. 😍

yandere!emperor with empress!reader scenario

warnings: infidelity, obsessive behavior, blackmail, non-con, regicide.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome to my first yandere fic! Before we dive in, I want to let you know a couple of things; firstly, this is not the prologue of a series and never will be one because I simply do not have the time right now. It is a scenario, a prompt, that was inspired by the Fallen Kingdom series created by @cassanderasblog. I will leave a link to their work here. I credit them for giving me inspiration and being honest in their feedback when I showed them the initial draft. Credit also goes to @faux-ecrivain for helping finish a difficult scene.

Finally, please do not comment on here if you wish to harass me in some shape or form. I do and will not tolerate bullying. As the saying goes, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it at all." If it does happen, however, I will have no choice but to remove this scenario as soon as possible.

So, with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy :)

Yandere!Emperor had despised you with his heart and soul. The only reason he had allowed the marriage to even happen was to solidify the alliance between his nation and yours. He did not love you. The woman who held his heart, the one whom he trusted above everyone else in the world is Tatiana Adreeva. His mistress. A beautiful flower that should never be polluted by the nobles who dare to not allow her to become the Empress simply because she lacked the status equal to his own prior to ascension. You did. 

Yandere!Emperor did not lay a hand on you after the vows had been exchanged in the temple. He did not seek out your company, preferring to seek comfort in Tati’s bed and her arms. He had his crown, his woman, and allocated more power through his marriage with you. It was nothing personal. He simply did what he had to do so that his Empire would continue to prosper. 

Yandere!Emperor would not tolerate any rudeness targeted toward his lover, even if you had not uttered a single word to her at all or raised your hand against her.

 To him, ignoring her when she greeted you was enough to earn a lengthy lecture from him. 

But you did not cling to him or beg for mercy, as he thought you would do, or any other self-respecting maiden who did not want to anger her husband. You coldly stared at him with that, silent as the grave until he dismissed you from his office. Out of spite, he had his aide add more documents to your desk for the next month even when the work was not part of the Empress’ official duties. 

To his joy, Tatiana became pregnant with his child, his heir. Being by her side was suddenly all that mattered to Yandere!Emperor. His overprotective streak and ill temperament increased over time. He would lash out at you for the smallest of incidents, even if it was not your fault. And like before, you did not react to his words and continued with your life. 

Like what happens to him or with his mistress is none of your concern unless it is associated with the Empire and the citizens. As it should be. He did not marry you out of love. 

When the child was born, a healthy baby boy christened Nikolov, Yandere!Emperor held a banquet and invited ambassadors from neighboring kingdoms to celebrate. But it was on this day….that he knew the truth. 

Once he had made the necessary greetings and made sure the captain of the guards would immediately report anything suspicious or if Tati and Nikolov were in any danger, Yandere!Emperor retreated to his office. He looked over the stack of documents on his desk, trying to lessen his workload in the morning so that he could spend time with his Tati and his son.

Upon hearing a knock at the door, he did not look up from the outline of a treaty as he allowed the third person to enter his office without cutting off their fingers. His mistress, the head butler, and his advisor. Tati’s older brother, Marquis Aizel Adreeva. Yandere!Emperor had bought the highest status that he could give to his mistress’ family after receiving positive confirmation that Tati was truly pregnant and not a misdiagnosis.

Aizel smiled, closing the door behind him with his foot as he set down a tray, placing two silver goblets and a bottle of wine on the corner of his desk. He spoke softly, congratulating Yandere!Emperor on finally having an heir and making his sister the happiest woman in the world. He poured the wine into the goblets. He held one in his hand, and extended his other hand to the Glorious Son, Blessed by the Five Gods.

Yandere!Emperor smiled, taking the offered drink. They raised their goblets high in the air, and drank. Yet when Yandere!Emperor looked at Aizel…his merry smile was not right. Not the kind of joy that a new uncle would express at a nationwide celebration. It was tighter, almost anticipating something…to happen.

That was when he realized the wine tasted bitter. That was when the room began to spin, and it felt like his skull being split in half. Poison. He had been betrayed. Yandere!Emperor grunted, trying to steady himself against the desk when Aizel walked around the wooden structure and had the audacity to push him back into the leather chair.

“Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Emperor.” Aizel chastised, his amber orbs glowing with delight. “Not going to lie, I did not think the wine would accelerate the poison as quickly I had thought, but that works for me!”

Yandere!Emperor felt a rock plummet into the pit of his stomach at Aizel’s words. “You…did this?” He gurgled. “I thought…the Empress -”

“And deny me the opportunity to see the look on your face, choking on your blood? Absolutely not. Dear, sweet [First Name] would never have done this to you. You might not have loved her, but she did respect you.” Aizel shrugged. "If Tati were in her shoes, I reckon things would not have gone as smoothly as they have." He said casually, as if he were talking about the weather and not informally speaking to the most powerful man in the Empire. 

“I only have ten minutes before I must return to the party, so I will do the honor of answering your unspoken questions. Now, where should I start? Oh, right. Why? Why did I do this when I love you like a brother? When have you treated my sister and I with nothing but kindness and respect, providing support whenever we are troubled, mentally, physically, and finanically? Well, the answer is really, really simple: I don’t. I tolerated you. I respected you. But never once did I feel any affection towards you.” His smile widened. “The one who deserves to stand by Tati's side is the Rapid Dog of The Northern Border, my brother-in-arms. Remember him? He was engaged to Tati. The man she should have married, should have been the father of my nephew. But you had the engagement annulled because she had said a few nice words to you. You threatened to seize my family’s home unless she came to the palace as your mistress? Do you remember? Why do I even bother asking? You’re going to die anyway, and we will finally be free from this gilded cage. Seven years. Seven long, agonizing years of watching my sister playing the gentle, loving role of a besotted mistress when all she really wanted to do was slit your throat. I thought about that every day too, you know? Well, almost. I actually felt sorry for the Empress, you know. She didn’t deserve to have a husband who neglected his duties and blamed everything on the one person who kept the gears in this Empire going, until now.”

“E-Empress -”

“Had an assassin give her a clean, painless death. Made it look like an accident, and he delivered! That’s very impressive for an underground guild, you know. Investment was worth it.” Aizel giggled.

“Now, it’s time to let everyone know their beloved Emperor has retired for the evening and call it a night. Big changes are coming. Pity you won’t see it. Don’t worry though, I won’t kill Nikki. I do love him…and he will never know that his true father is a tyrannical piece of shit who died in his own pool of blood because he allowed love to muddle his mind when he should have put the country’s well being above all else. Farewell, Emperor Aleksander of the Moldova Empire. From the ashes of corruption, a new country shall be born. And my nephew will rule over it in his father’s stead once he is ready. The father he should have had and not the one who brought him into this world, Duke Matthias Starkov.” 

When he awakened, Yandere!Emperor realized he was no longer on the floor. He could breathe and he could see in the mirror that hung across the room that he looked younger again. He asked, no, demanded, a quivering servant  to tell him what the year and date were, now. It was The Year of the Moon, ----.  As the crown prince of the Moldova Empire, it is his duty to select a candidate to become his crown princess, his future Empress who would rule beside him when he ascended as the Emperor. His father, the current Emperor, is growing impatient with his sixteen-year-old son and annoyed that he is still fawning over the marquis’ daughter, Tatiana Adreeva, a woman who was already engaged to a duke. 

“Bring me the list, no, tell Josef to bring it to my office immediately. I will be there shortly.” Yandere!Emperor had never pushed the servants to dress him quickly as he did at this moment. He did not know how or why, but he had returned to the past, right when he had seen Tatiana for the first time. Seven years into the past, before Aizel had poisoned him and killed his Empress. 

Sure enough, he saw his Empress’ name on the list, five down from the most qualified and right in the middle of the lengthy parchment.  [First Name] [Last Name], born to the Republic of Greiran, the Prime Minister’s only daughter.

They are Moldova’s closest neighbor and primary source of spices and various crops that are able to thrive in the harshest of weather conditions. Rumor had it that the Prime Minister himself was the one who had collaborated with the magician’s tower on this project, saving thousands of lives from suffering another winter and no harvest after the king had collapsed from a broken heart, having lost his queen after she had given birth to the crown prince.

 That connection to the magician’s tower was the only reason Yandere!Emperor had married his Empress. Access to more magical resources than the ones in the Moldova Empire, enabling the creation of magical weapons and protecting the borders around enemy nations. And yet he still died like a damned dog, blind to the respect and admiration his Empress held for him in favor of  receiving love from his murderer. But not this time. This time….he will set things right. 

He will not get involved with Tatiana Adreeva. 

He will ascend to the throne as he is supposed to.

He will be devoted only to [First Name], never taking a mistress even if the aristocracy begged him. Even if their marriage is only on paper, and she never looks at him as a man and only as an Emperor. 

He will learn everything there is to know about his future Empress, and he will never let her go. 

Taglist

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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2023

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male #yandere fanfiction #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere!emperor #ns.fw #cw obsession #tw dubious consent #cw dubious consent #cw murder #tw murder #tw yandere #tw obsession #yandere oc #original work #not spineless female character

[strangepoppy]

On the one hand, apocalypse avoided.

On the other, can shixiong deal with this shit as a sole focus of an obsession?

yandere! luo binghe with shixiong!male!reader headcanons

Warnings: obsessive behavior, mentions of violence, physical abuse, and blood.

There may also be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

I would like to thank @berrypuddingpwease for helping me expand a concept to full-fledged headcanons featuring one of my favorite characters from MXTX's danmei series, Scum Villian's Self-Saving System, aka SVSSS. This is dedicated to you, my friend :)

So without being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Luo Binghe had suffered one tragedy after another in his life, and being a disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect with a scummy master would later serve as the foundation of his twisted personality in the future. You know it will happen because you have read it. This world you had woken up in, is none other than the famous stallion novel, Proud Immortal Demon Way. Your current incarnation wasn’t a member of Luo Binghe’s three digit harem nor the villain Shen Quingqui, but an extra, a senior disciple in Qing Ding Peak. 

Since you weren’t equipped with a system, at least that you were currently aware of at the moment, it wouldn’t be considered OOC for canon fodder to try and be a good mentor to the current white lotus that is Luo Binghe, or try to improve your own cultivation so there was a chance you would survive the sect’s demise when the protagonist emerged from the Endless Abyss as an awakened Heavenly Demon. 

It started off with the small things; greeting Luo Binghe  with a smile whenever you saw him, sneaking an extra bit of food or medicine into the woodshed when you were sure no one was watching you, especially Shen Qingqiu. He might be a good teacher, but his temper was a legend in this peak. 

The only way you could help Luo Binghe improve himself was to purposely compare your cultivation manual with the one he had, the false one written by the peak lord in an attempt to thwart the protagonist’s growth. By doing this, it would add another reason for Luo Binghe to hate his shizun. 

You allowed him to borrow your book to copy any information he needed, as long as he was discreet. Lup Binghe swore to take good care of the manual, holding it close to his chest with sparkling eyes as he stared at you with a smile. It was cute, this white lotus version of Binghe. 

Seeing positive changes in how behavior had been worth withstanding Shen Qingqiu’s anger, especially when he found out just the other day that you were the culprit who had been sneaking an extra portion of food to the protagonist. Good things the sleeves of the cultivation uniform were long enough to hide the bruises starting to form on your arms. There’s no doubt that the sect leader will start dishing out punishment to you from now on, even for the smallest mistake. 

Oh, well. You’ll just have to be more careful in behaving around the rest of the sect and Binghe from now on. Still, how could he continue to grow without triggering the events that would lead to his blackening?

As you contemplated these thoughts, you could not have realized nor believed just how much of your presence in this world the plot of Proud Immortal Demon Way in very unexpected ways until it was too late to revert the damage that had already been done. 

Luo Binghe is a  very sticky, lovesick puppy for the shixiong who has treated him with so much kindness and respect and it scares him. He’s afraid he’ll wake up one morning….and realize that it had been a sweet, sweet dream. But he wakes up early every morning, and he sees his shixiong teaching the others alongside Ming Fan….and when his shixiong sees him, he smiles. And it is a warm, friendly smile that Binghe secretly wishes would belong only to him and no one else. 

With his shixiong, Binghe’s life in the peak is so much better. He hasn’t been this happy in a long, long time…so why was his shizun continuing to punish his shixiong so unfairly? His shixiong didn’t do anything wrong! He is training him and the other disciples in preparation for the Immoral Alliance Conference, and doing more than his fair share of the chores around the peak! 

But no matter what his shixiong did or did not do, their shizun would pull him away from him or the others, and his shixiong would not return to the bamboo house until it was past dinner-time. 

Shixiong tried to brush off his concerns with a smile, but Binghe wasn’t blind! He sees the angry whip marks on his senior’s arms, his head and robes soaked with tea, the pained look in his eyes! Shixiong….Shixiong doesn’t deserve to be treated like this!

He needed to get stronger. Not just to protect himself but to make sure Shen Quingqui wouldn’t hurt his shixiong ever again! And if the sect didn’t accept them being together, then they will find happiness elsewhere. Rogue cultivators did exist beyond these mountains, although the other disciples believed they were wholly evil. But Binghe has come to realize that this world isn’t just black and white. 

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #x reader #male reader #ns.fw #tw violence #tw obsessive behavior #shixiong!reader #luo binghe x reader #yandere headcanons #scum villian self saving system #scumbag system #scum villain #mxtx svsss #tw abuse #manhua x reader

[strangepoppy]

Our girl is not a thief! She is not plagiarizing other people's work! I am sure Su Liu Xia would approve!

Her hesitation in trusting potential cheater is understandable, her efforts to be set for for life is commendable. Her subtle advocating for good healthy sex fiction — he yeah.

Calix. Oh boy. OH BOY. The og heroine better watch the fuck out 😆

Pink Venom

yandere! Calix Rochester x Loure!reader headcanons [I’m a villainess but I became a mother]

warning: spoilers from the manhwa, obsessive behavior, implied sexual references and implied references to k-pop music. Please take caution.

Note: this is a work of fiction with the intention of entertainment purposes only. The behavior exhibited here is inappropriate and unhealthy, hence it should not be encouraged. Special thanks to @soleilician and @d10nsaint for their feedback during the drafting phase. 

So without further ado, let the show begin! :)

Calix Rochester. Everyone in the Eclair mansion had assumed that it was a matter of fact that you knew the name of your fiance because the engagement had already been announced, hence why you cried upon first meeting him. But that was not the truth at all. Quote the opposite. 

The only reason you knew the identity of this young boy is because who wouldn’t recognize the male lead of a shitty romance novel you read in your past life? Definitely not you, who had bought the book series with your hard-earned money in another life at a friend’s passionate recommendation before it all came to an abrupt end thanks to a speeding truck at an intersection on a rainy afternoon. If you were given the choice, however, you’d do it all over again. You couldn’t have lived with yourself if that little kid had gotten hit instead of you. 

Anyway, back to the matter at hand: the boy you were now engaged to. In the future, Calix Rochester would inherit his family’s duchy and rise to become a prominent figure in the Empire. He was arranged to be married to Loure Eclair, share one passionate night with her and then dump her for the saintly female lead. 

To sum it up, he was scum. A piece of trash who did not care about his fiancee and divorced Loure so he could deepen his relationship with the woman who had stolen his heart. Uh-huh. Right. 

He might not have cared for Loure, but damn it all, this was your new identity. The villainess in a novel that had so much potential before it recycled so many old tropes and cliches in the last two books that it had made your head spin. Hell, even you could have written better fanfiction than this garbage! 

Yes, you were a fandom writer and proud of it. Shush. 

Now fully aware of the fate that lied ahead of you, there is no way that you would allow yourself to become enthralled with Calix if he was just going to dump your sorry ass once the female lead arrived. That’s a recipe for heartbreak and unnecessary drama, which you really didn’t need again in this lifetime, thank you very much!

Plus, in this world there were young women who would secretly write sensual novels for money and even attend masked soirees to recite the aforementioned tales in front of an all-ladies audience.  Do you hear money or did you hear the crowd asking for an encore? Heck yes. 

You had a plan. Now all you needed to do was dive head first into the well of creativity and start zero drafting some ideas. There is the saying that nothing is ever original in art, but you would not stoop so low as to steal the stories from your own world and publish them here under your name. 

Plagiarism is plagiarism no matter what the isekai manga have said or did. And it was about time for you to step out of your comfort zone for the sake of your own survival. You’d figure it all out as you went along.

Still…what could you do about Calix? As much as you wanted to stay as far away from him as possible, he is your fiancee now.  But isn’t there a saying in your old world, to kill someone with kindness?

As much as you wanted to not marry him and avoid being burnt at the stake for trying to kill the female lead, this was a political arrangement between your respective families. You could not simply beg your father to call off the engagement unless there is enough evidence to appeal to the emperor that the Rochester’s heir was an unfit match for the Eclair’s only daughter.  The love affair between the main characters would not happen until after you turned eighteen. Twelve years from now. 

There was no choice but to go along with it. Shutting his invitation for outings would only make him more persistent.  

So you will have to play along; be cordial, be pleasant, and all that jazz. Furthermore…you’ll have to open with Calix. Letting yourself be vulnerable around someone who would cast you aside in the near future….it sucks. But you were not going to experience the misunderstanding troupe, thank you very much. Communication, in any relationship, is crucial. 

You were going to be honest with the male lead, even if it might kill you in the end.

Time flew by quickly. Lessons in the morning, tea in the afternoon, and writing manuscripts until late at night for your maid to secretly spirit them to the publishing house you worked for under the pseudonym Black Rabbit. It was a comfortable cycle, and you were delighted to see your hard work being paid in gold coins with an occasional participation at a literary soiree. 

Of course, you spent some time with Calix, watching a performance at the opera house or dining out at a fancy restaurant.  He was a courteous gentleman in public, appearing as a man who adored his fiancee very much. And that is what is bothering you. 

In accordance with the original storyline, he never once shared any concern towards Loure Eclair. She had been his fiancee in name, nothing more. He minded his own business until the female lead arrived and turned his dull, gray world into a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors. And yes, that is a direct, gag-worthy quote from the novel. However, in this timeline, he showed concern. 

He smiled at you, laughed, cheeks flushed a bright pink or red. He was the sweetest man in your presence. And that bothered you a lot. It shouldn’t have, in fact, you should have felt relieved that your actions had changed the course of the novel for the better. 

So why was your gut telling you that this was all an act? A mask he wore to keep you close until he would cast you aside for the female lead? You didn’t like it. Not one damned bit. 

 It looked like you were going to have another talk with him, again. You already asked him to be honest. Pleaded to speak his mind. Get angry with you, damn it, don’t just smile!

 Why does he keep acting like this, as if he were afraid of you? It’s supposed to be the other way around, you being afraid of being abandoned by him? You already voiced your concerns about it, how many more times do you have to repeat yourself?!

So, you sat down with him and talked about it. A heart-to-heart conversation that ended with a promise to do better.  Although it went better than you initially thought…why did it seem like the novel’s plot was about to deviate even further?

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#yandere manhwa x reader #yandere #x reader #i'm a villainess but i became a mother #calix rochester #yandere male #ns.fw #headcanons #forbidden-sunlight #acuriousmoon #manhwa x reader

[strangepoppy]

This is great. I love the language used, character progression for Carcel, the difference between reader and Ines, Ines is not a non-entity! Her trauma is understandable but! this! is! a! child! Ma'am, please step away from this little boy, he doesn't need your manipulations!

Reader balances perfectly on "common sense" and human decency and walking the tightrope of many ways logic and obliviousness.

🥵🥵🥵 Carcel is giving the erotic vibes and I am here for it.

yandere!carcel escalante with ines!reader scenario

Warning: OOC, obsessive behavior, implied violence, language, mention of death, possible spoilers for latest chapters on the manhwa.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, hope you have all been well! I'd like to thank @ceeesxy-blog for providing honest feedback on the earlier drafts on this story!

For those who are wondering, I am still revising/editing the other headcanons I had written for Carcel Escalante. When they are ready, they will be posted.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's dive into world of romance and second chances. Or maybe four :)

The Spirit was glaring heatedly at your back again. She seemed to be doing that a lot more lately than critiquing your posture or whispering the names of the nobility in your ear to make sure you did not mispronounce it when they approached you at teeth-grinding social functions. It made you wonder what you did to upset her for the nth time behind the polite smile you gave to the blonde-haired child sitting across from you. 

For the record, it had not been your intention to possess the body of Ines Valeztena de Perez  in the first place. You simply woke up and found her soul occupying the same space. Two souls in one meatsack, to put it so crudely; impossible in theory, yet here is the miracle. Note the sarcasm. 

Where this is her fourth reincarnation, it was your first, and you had retained the knowledge of this reality where it was the backdrop of a novel based on her life. The title? The Broken Ring, This Marriage Will Fail Anyway. Not only did include the details of her life in this timeline, but also her marriages to both the future Emperor and the painter Emiliano. One was a nightmare where she took her own life, and the second was to get away from her responsibilities and be happy for once. Her brother killed Emiliano and the child she had with him, dragging her back to the duchy she had tried to escape from. 

In this life, she has already secured an engagement with Carcel Escalante on the basis that he is the best-looking young man. Her father approved because he loved his only daughter. That worked in her favor because she did not want to get involved with the imperial family again, and already had a plan in the works. This plan involved treating Carcel coldly for seventeen years and he would have numerous affairs, before and after their marriage. Once she gives birth to a child, she will divorce him and attain true freedom. But now, Ines has become a lingering Spirit which only you could see. You are occupying the Body. You are the main driver behind it. And by God, her plan is utter bullshit. 

Make a child who has yet to understand communication and very much innocent in the way of how an adult’s mind works hate you by being a cold-hearted bitch? Absolutely not! That is not how you treat someone, even if you do remember that Carcel Escalante was a playboy in a previous lifetime. This is the present, do not put so much emphasis on the past. 

You have told the Spirit many times when the room was empty and you were visiting her in your mindscape; the backdrop of a library and seated in a plush chair with a table that held two steaming cups of coffee that you couldn’t taste. You did not know if she or you had created it, but this was where she had closed herself off most of the time and where you would see her as soon as you drifted off to sleep. Whether she actually listened to you during these therapy sessions or just put up with your company because you were in her body is another question entirely. 

“Ines?”

Jolting slightly, you looked up from the rim of  your teacup and nodded at the flustered Carcel Escalante. “Yes?” Cerulean orbs twinkled beneath the chandelier’s light as he stared at you, cradling his own cup and looking…frustrated? You furrowed your brow in concern, carefully placing it back down on the saucer that sat on the table. “Is everything all right, Carcel?”

“Why?” He answered your question with a question. You played along, asking him what he meant. 

“Do you really want to marry me because of my good looks?”

Oh, dear. Suppose this was a conversation bond to be brought up. You thought warily. Not even a minute has passed and already you could feel the Spirit’s menacing glare directed at the back of your head. Ines, for God’s sake, trust me. Let me handle this. You hissed in your mind. 

“You cannot ruin this chance.”

Ines, I am fully aware that this is crucial to your plan, thank you. Your very piss-poor plan, I might add. You promised you would give me one chance to prove there is another way to attain happiness. I will deliver. So let me speak or so help me, I will stuff your consciousness in the back of my brain and lock you in there until the day is over. You threatened. That wasn’t a threat either. It was a promise because you had done it before, unintentionally, when the world was spinning and her nagging was not helping. You couldn’t allow her access to the Body for nearly two days. 

She went silent, and the heat on the back of your head subsided slightly, but you could see her from the corner of your eye. Folding your hands neatly in your lap and straightening the curve of your spine, you spoke to Carcel with your eyes directly locked onto his own. 

“Yes. You are very handsome by the Empire’s standards, Carcel. But that isn’t the only reason.”

“It…isn’t?”

“Correct.”

“Then, why?”

“To avoid being married into the imperial family. Your cousin, the crown prince, Oscar is…a twit. Emotionally immature, rude, I could go on. You recall how he arrived at my home without any notice nor any requests to visit, and I told him that I did not like him, yes? You were there, dragged by him because he can do that.” 

Carcel’s face paled. “You could get punished for speaking like that about him. He is the future of our Empire.”

“And what a bleak future that will be.” You sniffed. 

“Ines!”

“The Empress wouldn’t risk angering one of the founding families of this country. Without our support, they would not be standing where they are right now, the pinnacle of high society and power, so I am not afraid to criticize how her son has no regard for the consequences of his actions because he believes his status gives him an excuse to do anything he wants to do.” You squeezed your hands together. “I also believe you are much more agreeable and level-headed than him. Your good looks are a bonus…but I would like to get to know you more. Your likes, your dislikes, anything, really, that you are comfortable with sharing. Believe it or not, Carcel Escalante, I do want us to get along. Not just for appearance's sake.”

You watched his eyes widen in disbelief, his face pinken with embarrassment before he stuttered. “R-Really?”

“Yes.”

“A-And you won’t…be mean? Or ignore me?”

You shook your head. “I will not.” You said. “If I am cruel in your eyes, I would rather you say it to my face then keep silent. I will not understand how you feel if you do not say anything. Though…if the imperial family is watching us, I might have to act out of character. Not just to protect myself and my family from their interference, but yours. Do you understand?”

“I-I suppose.” Carcel swallowed. “But…will you inform me…if you have to act like that?”

“I shall.” 

You answered Carcel’s questions as honestly as you could to a six-year-old child, even when you were roughly the same age as him. He seemed to believe you, as his stiffened posture loosened, and his smile was a little less forced. Eventually it was time for him to leave the estate and return to the Escalante duchy. You walked him to the door alongside the servants, and bade him farewell. When his carriage faded in the distance, growing smaller and smaller, the Spirit wasted no time in materializing, scolding you for making such promises right until it was time for bed. 

But this was a positive change, you emphasized, not a negative one. Would she rather hate the two of you for saying that you liked him and then say you don’t care if he has an affair because your feelings change? That made absolutely no sense. Yes, feelings change with time, this is true, but it is still cruel in your perspective and you will not subject Carcel to such treatment. 

When you received an invitation to attend the Empress’ annual tea party, a letter from the Escalante duchy was delivered to your desk the very next day. Carcel asked if he would have the honor to be your escort. You replied that you would be delighted; you were looking forward to seeing him there, and do not mind if you were acting coldly towards him if the Empress or the crowned prince were within feet of either of you. 

You kept your word to him. Now, and for the following seventeen years. 

If neither of your schedules were not booked with various lessons and social functions, Carcel would make an effort to visit you or invite you to spend an afternoon doing something together. He would offer flowers, and you thanked him. You idly chatted over lunch at a cafe after a shopping trip, all expenses paid by Carcel at his insistence, even when your monthly allowance was more than enough to purchase jewelry, dresses, or anything that piqued your interest during the outing. 

When he was invited to a friendly hunting trip at the Valeztena estate, Carcel had been stunned into silence as you handled the recoil of the hunting rifle in your hands without so much as a sound. 

The Spirit had drilled the basics of gun safety and aiming into your brain until she was confident that no one would think the wiser in the unlikely event that the two of you had to exchange control over the Body. Moreover, it put her at ease knowing she could protect herself from the crown prince. She will not allow Oscar to get the upper hand in this lifetime. Never again. 

You agreed wholeheartedly with her reasoning. Now if she actually lifted some damned weights between target practice and sipping tea with her peers, that would be great. You did not want the time and effort you have put into toning your arms from swinging a practice sword in the knight’s training arena to go to waste. 

Securing a competent tutor who would willingly teach a woman the fundamentals of swordsmanship, even if it’s a fucking rapier and not a broadsword like you initially wanted to learn how to use, had been difficult. If the Spirit was going to use a weapon to protect herself, then so are you. 

End of discussion. 

Carcel eventually became of age and was forced to enlist in the naval academy as his forefathers had done. It was the first step towards becoming the duke of the Escalante estate. Although you were a little sad to see him go, you promised to write him letters. If you were allowed to visit him at the base or a port that wasn’t too far from the Empire’s shores, you swore that you would try, weather permitting of course. 

However…if you or the Spirit had known the weight of these promises…would you have known just how madly in love Carcel Escalante de Esposa was with you? Would he? 

Carcel hated his time at the naval academy. As invigorating and stressful it was to learn everything about a ship’s vessel to the areas where the enemies of the Empire have attacked in recent years and even swordsmanship or rifle training, there were days when he wanted to throw everything away and just run off from Meldoza. 

Never looking back,  becoming a free man who could do as he pleased without the obligations. 

The soldiers in his fleet understood his frustration and have offered more than once to take him to the ports and have a bit of fun with some lovely ladies, on their tap. Yet for all his ranting and grumbling, it took a single letter from his dear Ines to keep the young duke grounded. 

She informed him of the events occurring in the Empire’s polite society, highlighting gossip and any exploits pertaining to his cousin, aggravated that she still cannot swing her sword at the right angle just yet even after her tutor went over the lesson several times, amongst other topics of discussion including what she has been doing since he’s been at sea. She reminded him to stay strong, keep his wits sharp, and never forget that she is here, waiting for him to return. Before he ventured out to sea for his duties, he would always keep a letter folded against his breast pocket. A reminder of why he is here. 

Contrary to the rumors circulating around him, he did not elect to remain in the military for an additional five years because he was avoiding getting married at the tender age of eighteen. He wanted to prove to his future father-in-law that he is worthy to be the husband of his only daughter. 

Just because he may be lacking in some areas, that does not mean he should be switched out for someone higher up or of equal ranking in the hierarchy. Or with a gentleman whom Duke Valeztena would much prefer to have as a son-in-law than him. That will never happen so long as he, Carcel Escalante de Esposa, lives. 

He is a man who will get jealous if anyone would dare to approach his future wife with the intention of bedding her once he, her husband, had gotten tired of her. An absolutely foolish notion, because Carcel will remain faithful to Ines. 

It would take a lot of self-control to not gut those fools right on the spot, because Ines would hate getting blood on the floor. Furthermore, he would never have a mistress before or after he exchanged his vows. Women might line up outside his door because adultery is encouraged in the Ortega Empire. Flowers and love letters might decorate every square inch of his office. Temptation will lurk around every corner, and he will burn them in his fireplace. The ladies? Well, he’d tell them to politely sod off and never darken his doorstep again. 

If there were gifts from Ines, however, he would keep him. 

Ines is his sun. The light of his life. No one else would even compare to the woman who is waiting for him to return from these treacherous waters. Until it was his time to leave this world, he would show Ines just how much he loved her. He would buy her anything she wanted, make her life as comfortable as possible even if she told him a thousand times that she does not need anything. 

Just never leave his side. Never fall in love with another man who wasn’t him, because he cannot conceive a universe without you. 

Taglist

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#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere male #ns.fw #the broken ring this marriage will fail anyway #carcel escalante #carcel escalante x reader #ines!reader #cw obsessive love #cw obsessive behavior #tw violence #tw obsessive behavior #tw obsessive love #yandere manhwa x reader #manhwa x reader

[strangepoppy]

Anon here! I just saw that your requests are open for Batfam? If you’re still taking requests can you do a regency era Damian Wayne x reader. If you don’t want to do Damian I wouldn’t mind any of the batboys!

xxx

I am always taking requests (they're for my sanity) except for the next three days because I'm on a plane, busy, or sleeping :/

(for this fic, they are Bruce's biological kids) (not completely historically accurate. like at all. but i tried)

Masterlist

Jason Todd x (probably fem due to the law back then unless you want to dream that being gay was allowed in 1817 (some sources also state that lesbianism was never illegal, but I don't know for sure. Just found it interesting))!Reader

Regency Era AU

The poor man is being swarmed by potential— and in all honesty, very desirable— women and their family members who are desperate to introduce the most suitable option for his wife from their family line. Constantly ignoring beginnings of phrases such as "this is the honourable—" and "perhaps you would like to be introduced to my lovely daughter—", and with each one his jaw ticked.

You hide your smile behind your fan, gazing at him from across the ballroom. It is the marriage season and your childhood friend clearly hated it. But that was expected of him as the second son of Bruce Wayne, Duke of York and member of the royal family. Especially since the duke's eldest, Marquess Richard, had recently married a young woman, Marchioness Barbara.

Locking eyes with the green you have known for so long, you tap the top of your open fan. I wish to talk to you.

With abundant relief, he shoos off one particularly frustrating Earl and almost rushes to be by your side. "Thank you," he says sincerely, a smile stretching his face.

"Why do you not wish to talk to them?" you inquire, Jason's smile dropping subsequently. "They are fine young women, after all."

"They're boring," he sighs, "I do not wish to be married to someone who's personality is dull."

"They're not dull," you chide, and he raises a brow. "They are just taught to be agreeable and respectful, my Lord."

"If I asked them about my theory of a novel I am reading, they would simply say, 'Well if you think so, it must be true' and not..."

"Something like I'd say?"

"Exactly."

You suspect it's a common theme with the Waynes; they're seemingly more inclined to look for a spouse that challenges their opinions and joins them in their love of science— the recently wedded Wayne couple bonded over their love of physics, in fact. A quality like that in a women was usually seen as undesirable.

When you were younger and your father made you visit the Waynes, you learned about sciences that your father would've frowned upon; even the daughters, though there were only two, enjoyed the conversations like you did. With Jason and the youngest son, Damian, you would have lengthy conversations about the novels you were reading altogether; these conversations happened so often that their father was tired of having three copies of every novel he owned.

"I have an idea," Jason says, straightening to his full height beside you— tall enough for you to need to tilt your head up if you wanted to look him in the eyes (you always did— something that beautiful was designed to be looked at). "What if you and I get married?"

"You can't be serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

You consider him for a moment— you really do— and see no sign of a lie or joke behind his offer. And now that you think about it, it wouldn't be terrible. It was better than your father marrying you off to some old man you didn't know.

Or weren't attracted to.

"Usually there's a dance or two before the proposal," you point out almost teasingly, "And then courtship. For at least a few months. Don't forget, a man should dance with multiple women before deciding who he wishes to wed—"

"Fine," he sighs, rolling his eyes. Yet a small grin remains on his face. "Would you like to dance, then?"

"Hmm, let me think—"

Jason pointedly fake-yawns while playfully glaring your way.

"I would appreciate a dance, yes." And with that, he leads you to the centre of the ballroom, passing his father who watches the two of you with confusion as you begin to dance.

"Are they—"

"Relax, dear," his wife Selina interrupts while lightly leaning against him, also watching the two of you dance, a smile on both of your faces as you whisper quiet yet teasing words to each other. "Don't tell me you couldn't see it before?"

Her husband's silence answers for him.

#batfamily #batfamily x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #regency era au

[strangepoppy]

One Last Time 💔

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

t/w: angst, mentions of death, killing, resurrection

in which you found your violent used-to-be-dead boyfriend

a/n: this is not my original story. this is inspired by one Jason Todd character.ai bot by -> terra-dactyl <- though i'm not sure i did this amazing bot justice. as always, feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments and if you enjoyed, leave a like! <3

“I know you don’t want me here,” Jason interrupts, his voice bitter. He can’t help it—he still misses you. “I don’t care. I just wanted to see you, okay? Then I’ll go for good, I swear.”

The boy you loved—the hero he was—and the man he is are two different people, at the end of the day. You loved Robin, not Red Hood. You know it, he knows it. That’s why you can never go back to what you once were, no matter how much he wants to.

That’s why he’s here to see you one last time.

“I waited for you. And, a part of me knew you’d never come back. But I stayed…and I hoped. So much for wishful thinking.” You scoffed, staring up at his towering figure.

"I...don't really have any excuses for what I've been doing," Jason admits, his voice modulated by that red helmet.

"No, you don't," You crossed your arms. "You're not the same as before, Jason."

"But I can be, I can go back to who I was before. The Jason you love." He immediately says.

"The Jason I loved." You snarl, crossing your arms. You love him, you really do. But the things he had done...it was unforgivable.

Jason takes a deep breath. He pressed the release of his helmet, the helmet letting out a hiss before Jason removed it. His hair, with the streak of white on the front, falls over his bright blue eyes. He looks at you. And then, he does the thing you never expected him to do in this situation.

He hugs you.

He pulls you close because he can’t help it. Because he doesn’t want to let go. Because he still loves you. And you still love him.

The unexpected warmth of Jason's embrace sent a flurry of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Part of you still loved him, despite everything that had transpired, and being held by him felt familiar, comforting even. But the other part of you, the part that had been hurt and betrayed, screamed for you to push him away.

You stood there, rigid in his arms, torn between the past and the present, between the boy you had loved and the man he had become. His grip on you was strong, as if he feared that letting go would mean losing you forever.

"I know I messed up," he murmured, his voice muffled by his head pressed against the crown of your head. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but I needed to see you, to feel you one last time."

Your heart ached at his words, and you couldn't deny that a huge part of you wanted to forgive him, to believe that he could change. But the wounds were still fresh, the memories of his actions haunting your thoughts.

Slowly, you brought your arms up, tentatively returning the hug. Your arms snaking up behind his back, clutching at his brown leather jacket. His embrace tightened as if he were afraid you might slip away. For a moment, you both held each other, two souls who had once been inseparable, now trying to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

"I miss you," he whispered your name, his voice filled with regret.

You pulled back slightly, gazing into his beautiful blue eyes. "I miss you too, Jason," you replied, your voice filled with sadness. Jason tilts your head up to face him with one hand, your chin between his index finger and thumb. His gloved thumb brushes your bottom lip, remembering all the times he kissed you. Jason bent down and captured your lips in one last kiss.

The kiss was everything, yet it was full of longing and sadness. It was not a kiss of happiness, nor reconciliation. It was a kiss of unsaid goodbyes. Time stretched, seconds seemingly turning into hours for you and Jason. When Jason pulled away, he released his hold on you and took a step back, creating a physical distance that mirrored the emotional chasm between you.

"I sorry," he said, his voice heavy with longing and want. "I just needed to see you one last time, to apologize in person."

You nodded, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Maybe one day." You say, sniffling.

Jason nods. "One day. Maybe one day we can start over."

It was painful to let go, but you knew it was the right choice. You couldn't go back to the past, but you could move forward, each of you on your own path.

"Goodbye, Jason," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"It's not goodbye," he says your name tenderly. "I'll come and find you again. I swear it."

With one last look, Jason turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, watching him disappear into the night. It was a bittersweet farewell, filled with both love and sorrow, but it was a necessary step toward healing and finding a new beginning.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd angst #killxz #drabbles