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Nirei learning fighting moves from Tsuge and using it to suplex Suo when they meet again bc Suo is not expecting the sudden divergence in fighting style from what he taught
Content warnings: thigh job, smut, p in v, fem reader, noncon, dubcon, murder, degenerate stuff idk
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You woke up one day as one of the hundreds of maids and servants employed by the Kingdom of Thralkeld. Originally, you were just a regular waitress and college student, barely scraping by through a system of rarely paid rent and skipped meals.
Being a broke student was fine, for a while. You found respite through a silly otome game; Sinner's Escape. A dark romance where the MC is a runaway princess from a savage kingdom who seeks refuge in Thralkeld. Your, or rather her, love interests included a poor baker, a knight, the king, and the king's butler. Ultimately, she would end up with the King on most routes, though you personally liked the butler for his calm and responsible demeanor. He held a sinister way of disposing of rivals that was calculated and silent.
The others were far too messy. Especially the king, Alric, who was an obsessive man, constantly fawning over the MC with lavish gifts and a falsely immature personality. You hated how fake he was. How could a player possibly love a character that makes the MC fall for a fallacy?
Behind all the cutesy acting and baby talking was a cunning and violent man.
You lived your life as a maid rather conservatively, however; doing your chores, following orders, and then locking yourself in your shabby room until your shift would begin once again.
You weren't quite sure when King Alric took notice of you.
Perhaps it was when you were forced to bring him breakfast in bed when he was 'sick.' A ploy he mustered up to make the MC dote on him. She was here, staying in one of the rooms as an honorary guest - or rather as a very pretty stray he picked up.
She sat atop his bed, playing with his blonde hair with a sweet smile on her face. His head in her lap, arms wrapped around her waist and piercing blue eyes holding a deceitfully pitiful look.
"I've brought the master's breakfast, my lady."
She thanked you politely, and you bowed, glaring at him in passing.
Had he noticed? Probably. You hoped not.
At another point, you had gotten in an argument with the infamous butler.
"You can't just leave all your trash for us to pick up! It isn't fair." You shouted.
The butler was rather spoiled, something you hadn't caught onto when playing the game. He was just leaving his garbage everywhere! And none of the maids could say anything for fear of retaliation.
"Your tongue should match your status."
"Your tongue should match your face. If you were handsome maybe I'd let you scold me, but you're ugly and mean and gross and totally uncool!" You were certain you'd get called a witch for your odd language and uncharacteristic yelling. Maybe even stoned, or at least fired.
What you hadn't expected was a laugh to sound from behind you.
The king, with all of his pearly white teeth, was actually laughing, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. When had you been employed into his staff? What a hilarious woman!
Suddenly, you began noticing the king's presence every time you would utter a grievance (or a cruel opinion). Subconsciously, Alric found himself seeking out your theatrics. Passing by the kitchen, the maid's chambers, or even the back corner of the garden where the laundry is tended to became a habit whenever he needed a good laugh.
You are rather honest about everything; something he is simply no good at.
King Alric began requesting your presence for afternoon tea. Your speech and unfiltered conversations were a relief to him, who was so used to pleasantries. He could speak as degenerately as he wished to, and you would simply respond as normal without judgement, unless you wanted to be judgmental.
Ahh, how wonderful it is to speak with someone who doesn't fear my status.
"You hate that butler of mine, don't you?" He chuckled, offering you a cup.
You shook your head and politely declined the cup. "I don't hate him. He's just a jerk."
"Yes, sometimes I wish I could just snap his neck." King Alric closed his eyes, as if truly pondering the scenario. "He speaks far too plainly with my possessions."
You raised a brow, but spoke anyway. "I wouldn't snap his neck, personally. But one good punch to his face would def set that guy straight."
"Def," he smiled, "You have such an interesting manner of speaking."
The MC was gone soon after. You weren't quite sure where she had gone. You were certain she would have followed the king's route, though you supposed she may have been mingling with the others and finally made a different choice.
Another argument had ensued between the butler and you, this time sparked up by him.
"You are seducing the king, you filthy rat." He accused, a pointed finger hitting your chest.
You could only stare in confusion, smacking at his hand and stepping back.
"The fuck are you talking about?"
"How could he have possibly fallen for such a foul-mouthed cretin, when that beauty was right at his fingertips." He muttered the last part, almost inaudibly, though you caught it.
Before you could respond, King Alric's arm slunk around your waist, pulling you into his chest in a warm embrace. You noticed a light smell of vanilla.
"Are you bothering my favorite maid?"
You couldn't see his expression, but judging by the one on the butler's, you were certain it couldn't have been good.
And that was when it hit you; if the MC was no longer his love interest, did that mean he could choose someone else? Was it possible?
You shuffled out of his arms, a nervous smile painting your lips. "Haha... I'm just gonna... Get back to work."
The next time you saw him was only a week later, the king's boisterous voice booming as he entered the crowded kitchen. You were boiling ginger when he pulled you against his chest once again, barking at the other maids and cooks to leave.
The smell of vanilla was gone and replaced with something more metallic, but you couldn't exactly prove it.
"I have good news, little princess."
You gasped, turning around and pushing him away - which was futile. "Princess? That could get me executed!"
He sighed. "Since when did you care about how we talk?"
"Since you started giving me nicknames like little princess."
King Alric dropped his head atop your shoulder. "Well, I have good news, little princess." You grumbled, but let him speak anyway. "It seems my butler has resigned. And I'd like to give his position to you, as my personal maid." You could feel his smile against your ear.
"What? Your personal maid?" You shook involuntarily, gripping at his shirt. Butler positions are for life, no intelligent man would resign such a permanent and high-class job. In the game, the butler was so loyal, he was willing to share the MC with the King if it meant staying under his employment.
A particular route suddenly came to mind. It was one of the rarer endings, a bad one where the king goes berserk and kills quite literally everyone.
That was the one and only game ending in which the butler was no longer at Alric's side.
"He's dead," you whispered, eyes widening with realization.
You hadn't meant to speak your thoughts aloud, truly you hadn't. But the moment came so suddenly.
Sure, you hated the butler as you had grown to know him, but ultimately, he was your favorite character. He was a pious little shit whose arguing became a steady comfort within the chaos of a new life.
Before you knew it, tears were brimming against your face, trailing down and wetting his shirt as you clung to him.
"Shhh." King Alric whispered, holding you tighter. "How'd you know I killed him?" He slowly began trailing kisses against your neck, ending at your jaw with a wet tongue snaking its way across. "You always suspected me, huh? I noticed it. When we first locked eyes."
You mustered a little huh.
"You looked at me with such reverence. As if you knew I was faking for her affection."
A large hand clasped at your chin, forcing you to look up at King Alric with big, worried eyes. "What happened to her?"
His eyes darkened, his lids lowering as if entranced by your beauty despite his sinister anger. His thumb and pointer finger squeezed harder at your cheek.
"She and my butler are spending time together. Peacefully."
Ducking down, King Alric connected your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth and exploring the wetness. He lowered his hand to your neck, never squeezing, only resting. If you resisted, you wondered if he would do it.
You didn't want to find out.
The plushness of your skin against his fingertips sent Alric reeling, a dizzying hotness spreading to his groin and flaring his skin with goosebumps.
"You're the only one," he muttered in between breaths. "The only one who accepts me - the real me."
"H-Hold on, Alric. You can't just-"
The words were shaken out of you when two large hands pushed you back. King Alric was in a frenzy, and the tight squeeze on your shoulders forced a yelp to escape your lips.
He was shocked.
"My name." Alric's voice was barely above a whisper.
Despite the absurd situation, you found yourself laughing, an exasperation present that worked up your confidence. "Yeah, your name."
There was a silence, and all you could do was scrutinize his now unrefined attire until your eyes landed on the growing tent in his pants. It looked almost painful, and a strange pooling in your stomach brought you back to reality.
"You're not real," you mustered out. "This is a game. It's all pixels. You don't exist, the butler isn't dead, and I'm definitely not about to..."
Your voice trailed off, the king's head cocking to the side in confusion.
"I'm not real?"
"You're not."
"Have you gone mad?"
"Maybe."
Alric smirked, encasing your hand beneath his, fingers guiding yours to the swell of his trousers. The softness of the fabric and stiffened bulge a clear indication of his desperate need.
"Is this not real?" You almost heard a whine in his voice when he asked this of you.
Your silence was deafening, and as the spoiled brat he is; took it as a confirmation to continue.
"Turn around." His voice was commanding, authoritative in the way you would expect of a true king. Alric spun you on your heels, pushing your maid's skirt up to situate himself behind you. His hand rubbed smooth circles against your ass cheeks and love handles. "Why don't you feel how real I am?" He whispered into your ear, nibbling at the tip before biting down.
Alric fumbled with releasing his dick, the appendage slapping at your thigh and the precum dribbling down your leg.
When you felt the tip go near the crevice of your thighs, you squealed but protested. "Not inside! Anything but inside."
Alric used his free hand to turn your face to look back at him, a thumb pressed into your bottom lip and cooing. "Anything for my little princess."
Your maniacal king honored his word, shoving his length between your legs instead of inside your aching pussy.
Slowly, he moved forward and backward, simply relishing in the feeling of your plush thighs rubbing against his dick oh so perfectly.
"God, you're amazing."
"You're doing so good for me."
"Juuust like that, princess."
The feeling of your clit rubbing against his shaft was nothing short of euphoric, sweet moans the only audible sound from you as you gorged yourself on the king's cock.
You hiked the front of your skirt over your forearms, a nimble hand reaching for Alric's tip and rubbing small circles.
Alric's head fell back, his grip on you tightening. "If you do that, I'll..." Your body began moving in sync with his, allowing yourself the stimulation he provided.
His speed increased; what was once long, dragged out movements became desperate bucks, short and quick and ever so pleasurable.
"I'm cumming, princess." Alric pressed his front into your backside, his large chest engulfing your frame as he chased his high, you not far behind him.
"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck..."
The milky white substance leaked from his tip, covering your hands and the inside of your maid's skirt. He continued, however, allowing you to feel the building pressure and release. The sounds of your perfect moans swallowed him whole.
And you were worried; because the feeling of his warm cum coating your hands and legs made you want to know what it would feel like inside of you.
"Why don't we continue in my chambers, little princess?"
platonic yan Batman? Sorry if this is too much I don’t see anything you’ve written so my bad if it’s not okay…
Yes ofc! I'm a bit rusty with my writing, so here's my take on it. I had some old fics that I deleted for a fresh start, so I hope you enjoy! I didn't know if you wanted a reader pov, so I did with and without :) Not beta read, we die like Jason
Platonic Yandere Batman x Batfam and Reader
Bruce Wayne is a yandere at heart. From the moment his parents were killed, he's fought and struggled to keep everyone he loved close to him. It didn't start out as overt as his obsessions had grown to be, but there were signs early on. Dick had been the first, though it was out of necessity. Someone had finally come along just like himself, a lost soul with nobody to turn to. Bruce had taken the boy in, thinking the strange feelings bubbling in his chest were normal. Why wouldn't they be? Dick was a mirror of his past self. When Dick became Robin, an angry, overwhelmed boy trying to make sense of his environment, he didn't think too much of it; he'd been the same in his first year of Batman, after all.
Then Jason came along, this spunky, smiley boy. Of course he'd have to take this one in, too. Never mind the growing sparks in his chest and his increased anxieties over having his two boys crimefighting. Whenever either of them came back with a scrape or a bruise, his guttural resentments bubbled up over the corruption of Gotham. He'd pull them out of missions for days at a time, sporadic in his agreement to allow them into this life. And when Jason died, his final breaths were overshadowed by the same man he'd been trying to rehabilitate for what felt like centuries? Something snapped in him, and all of his carefully crafted boxes around his emotions burst and flooded through. He kept Dick in the manor for weeks on end, refusing to allow him to be Nightwing. It took Alfred convincing him to give the man some space for a flicker of reality to come back to him.
When Tim showed up, having discovered Bruce's secret, he felt his soul split in half. He couldn't do this to himself again. He already replayed his final moments with Jason in the back of his mind daily, and now another one had fallen into his lap? He was being mocked by whatever entity was out there orchestrating this. Unfortunately for him, he'd lost a hold of himself. The only thing keeping him from finding Tim's father and murdering him himself was his long-standing moral code. He logically knew that this had all gone too far, that these feelings of protection over his children had become a raging obsession, but it was too late to stop the flow now. Bruce spent hours upon hours in the lab, designing and redesigning Tim's robin armor. It was padded as much as possible with hidden alarms to alert him in case of an emergency. The final piece of his protection was secretly chipping Tim, giving Bruce the ability to track his every move.
Damian showing up was the final straw. His affair with Talia had been years ago, something he'd almost forgotten after a lifetime of trials and worries. He hadn't been there for him and had put the boy through the same torture he had: not having a father. He had to make this right; The boy was already scarred from the training grounds, a perfect soldier, but he wasn't protected. Bruce needed to be that rock, devoting himself to his youngest son's wellbeing. Damian was spoiled like none of his other children had been before as Bruce tried to make up for every mistake he'd ever made with his other children. This one had to be perfect. He saw pieces of himself in all of them. The dark hair, the intellect, the perception of Gotham... It was as if the universe had placed these boys there for him to father and foster and grow with.
-----Reader under cut-----
It could've begun as a kidnapping, and at this point, Bruce wasn't above that. Whoever your family was would be lost in the dark as even Commissioner Gordon couldn't solve this missing person's case. If you were already an orphan, it would've been ten times simpler. He would've taken you to the manor, locking you in your room for the first few weeks and slowly introducing you to the other family members. The others had grown up around Bruce's crazed possessiveness, so they had every right to believe it was normal. You have everything you could ever ask for, so stop struggling, okay? It'll get better.
With his last child, his youngest, he knew that he couldn't allow them to fight crime like the others. As much as he'd begged and pleaded with his older sons to attempt to stop their vigilante ways, none of them listened. He may have failed them, but he wouldn't fail you. The robin mantle had ended with Damian. The legacy of his children would be preserved without any more death or pain.
Bruce was determined to give you the protection you needed. Unfortunately for you, protection doesn't equal privacy. Like Tim, you're chipped immediately, tied to the house like an unruly dog. The outside world, Gotham, wasn't safe for someone like you. He gave you an education through online schools and curriculums, but he'd never allow you to leave the manor. Why should you? You have everything you could ever need here: a loving father, Alfred, half a dozen siblings, and all of the riches you could ever dream of.
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Which marvel or dc characters would be mad at the fact that you waxed /shaved your armpits and are like sulking in a corner
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hehehehehehe
dc:
Clark Kent is always someone who is so, so appreciative of you letting it be free—he’s a farm boy, baby; he only wants to have you all natural. He’s definitely having an adorable pouting fit
Guy Gardner is a sicknasty dog and super mad about the fact that you did it—staring at your pits with a forlorn sigh and just absolutely desolate over the fact you’ve done this to not only yourself, but to him
Roy Harper is definitely throwing a silent, sulky hissy fit and is not happy at all about what you’ve done—just looks at you with such silent despair over what you’ve done and makes it clear he’s so disappointed
Diana Prince is unhappy, to say the least—to shed your warrior’s armor in order to fit with societal standards; why on earth would you ever choose to do such a thing, my love? What possessed you to do this?
marvel:
Frank Castle likes a partner who lets it hang all out—the fact that you’re trying to hold back your shine, in his eyes, is something that he can’t abide. Voices his displeasure and looks grumpy all day
Thor is disappointed in what you’ve done—after all, you’re so perfect as is, someone worthy of capturing the God’s attention all as is; to deny yourself your natural appearance is something he cannot sign off on
Namor appreciates bodies and appearance in all shapes and sizes; as a storied lover, he takes joy in appreciating all of you. And this is why he gives you a disappointing look of displeasure, proud king he is
Rogue likes all of you, every single day, every single moment—to know that you’ve taken away a part of the whole she loves is something that just breaks her heart. When she hits you with those imploring puppy eyes you know it’s time to hang the razor up
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amandla
germansingergirl
origamiaround
gummygunk
blakekathryn
areudirty
