Objectified Characters Novels & Stories

"Why me?" "Why what?" Ahbaya repeated the question, looking flustered and confused. “Why you?” "Yes, why me? There’s a lot of omegas out there, Ahbaya." "I thought I told you already." "Say it again." "Because you're the one I want." She said unapologetically as if she only sees me as an object, something that she could own just because she wanted to. "Plain and simple as that." "You’re ridiculous. You can’t treat people as if they’re objects. You throw us, keep us at your will.”

However, this character was very difficult to cast. That was because not only was the character's appearance ugly, but the character was cunning and vicious, and at the same time, she also had a pitiful side. This character was once forcefully taken advantage of by a few men in the early stages of the story. After that, one of the men was sick, so she was also infected. She was originally a victim, but the victim chose to harm others. She wanted more innocent people to be harmed to make herself feel better.

It irked me to be reminded that I was an object no matter how I looked at it and no matter what day and age the werewolf realm was in. Omegas have always been objectified. In the past, the present and I was certain the future wouldn’t be any better. “Chill babe, I’m just messing with her. I need to teach her to keep her eyes down when talking to wolves out of her league.” His eyes danced evilly and Iwondered what he would do to me. One, he couldn’t use his Alpha aura on me since he was not my Alpha but no matter what he tried to do, I wouldn’t be able to fight back and so I waited for the impact of his fist or palm on my face or any part of my fleshy body at all.

I am more than done with people freely discussing me with zero consideration of my feelings. Any mention of the auction brings back the humiliation and pain of Gertrude and Machteld sticking their thick, dry fingers into me. It made me feel like an object. I still feel like an object, one whose worth is determined by the number of holes that haven’t been fucked. An object that needs ‘opening’ before it can be ‘used’ by someone else. I ball my fists in frustration that I have no say over what happens in my life. Who does and doesn’t touch me.

"Well, the only female characters I've seen when my brother plays are bikini-clad NPCs. They do nothing but wave flags at the starting line and cheer the guys at the finish line. There are no playable female characters. Yeah, I know motorsport games appeal to males more, but can't females also be race car drivers? I'm pretty sure they can be badass it too." "What kind of game would you like to play?" Levi asked, his voice as gentle as it was back in his car when he almost ran her over, and that all too familiar feeling, like they were the only two people in the room, was back again. "I don't know. I guess a game where females are not objectified. and they can fight and get shit done," she sa

This acting of her was one she had perfected over the years, and she knew how easily this had garnered pity from the others. This was not what she was proud of. On the contrary, she always hated it when she had to act in this manner, but it was the situation that left her helpless, resulting for her to resort to this despicable methods. No matter what type of person it made her to be, she hated men who easily got swayed by the tears of a beautiful woman and wouldn’t feel the same way if those tears fell down from the eyes of someone else. Seraphine hardly should be the one to judge when she used the weaknesses of the men to her advantages. She hated herself for being way. She hated how she w

Just the need to understand if not know everything. Ayame was the only proof I ever had that I felt anything. The cipher to my world. The person who convinced me I wasn’t better or worse, just different and that, that was the best thing in the world. Now here I am objectifying her because she’s female. Being like them. The things we’re all better off without. Needing to own. Control or sexualize someone so much more precious than gender could define or allow.

Character: Oriana Alice. "God. Crazy, isn't this fighting the heroine directly? Moreover, I've only read more than 100 chapters and still don't know exactly what this character needs to do, or how to behave, this is so virtual… I know I have to accept reality but this is impossible.” Hastily refused. [The officers under her are not qualified to make the conditions.]

I chose to make Charlotte flawed because I wanted to take a different route to create her. A lot of the novels I’ve read online choose to make their female protagonists the epitome of what some people consider all the good qualities a woman should have: they are kind, relatable, selfless, sometimes to a fault. They let their antagonists step all over them until later on in the story, they gain confidence and step up to the situations life puts in their way.

It felt like I was owed at least a little something for all that she put me through. Despite her physical appeal, I disliked almost everything else about her. She was lazy, conniving, deceitful, entitled, and could be a real bully to anyone who crossed her. But for some reason, all of that was part of the attraction. The combination of her body and her terrible personality gave me permission to objectify her. Her dislike of me even made it feel like anything sexual between us would be a punishment, which made it all the more exciting in a strange way. I couldn't deny it.