#I need this mans to take care of me without my knowledge or consent

[lavender--ghost]

Luke loves his fiancee, though he sometimes needs to make sure they're being taken care of properly. He could see the stress they would never admit to, the strain of nobility and a lifetime's worth of catch-up they both needed. Maybe taking care of them is a little more about himself than them, though.

--

Uhhh so content warning here lovelies. Luke main/romantic route spoilers. Basically Luke drugs MC to comfort himself while taking care of them, non-consensual non-sexual intimacy while MC is unconscious and unaware. Bathing/Changing/Cuddling but nothing sexual. Take care of yourselves and don't read or stop reading if you feel uncomfortable! Luke/Observer POV throughout with Belle MC. MC is referred to as fiancee and bunny, but not named or gendered. Minors DNI

The settee was set up as usual, with it being Luke's turn to host their regular tea parties in the garden. Both of them had been busy, running around for errands and lessons to the point they hadn't been able to relax together for days.

He'd been feeling foul for the entire time, separated and useless as his fiancee overworked themself, and there was an easy solution to that. Luke still had trouble sleeping some nights, and those same sleeping herbs he'd used to keep them from following after him as Belle went tastelessly into honey. Slipping some in the tea wasn't exactly difficult. He'd honestly be more concerned if his heart wasn't so warm from their trust, sweetly smiling as they sipped at their drink.

Their eyes began to flutter, confused at the sudden drowsiness, but he soothed them, pointing out how hard they'd been working lately. "Don't ya' think you deserve a break?" Leaning into his arms, his fiancee hummed a tired agreement before relaxing. Breathing growing softer while clutching at his coat, they mumbled sleepy little apologies into his side. It felt nice, having them rely on him, reassuring. His fiancee literally leaning on him for support.

"S'fine, jus' go to sleep. Ya' need it if you're getting all needy like this."

Yes, they both needed this. His fiancee needed rest, and Luke needed them to need him. Scooped into his arms, their head rolled into the crook of his arms, small and delicate and exactly where they belonged as Luke carried his fiancee to his room.

--

Stripping them gently, Luke stepped into the bath slowly. The sleeping drugs really were effective, leaving his fiancee draped across his chest as he steadily cleaned them. This was exactly what he needed. King Highness was on his case again about another Obsidian spy, Sariel's lessons kept them both busy, Clavis chased him too much for "brotherly bonding" (pit traps, is what he really meant), and Jin... wasn't doing anything unusual, but he was still a bother.

He couldn't do something like this often, his fiancee knew Luke better than anyone, and would definitely realize what he'd done if he wasn't careful.

Smiling uncontrollably, Luke pressed his face into their hair, softly washing their body. Relaxing for the first time in days as he felt the tension leave him. No protesting, no trying to take care of themselves, just the love of his life, pliant in his arms and needing Luke's care. His fiancee needed Luke's help now, reliant on him in a way that made him feel secure and real, in a way he hadn't felt in years.

It hadn't felt like this with her, but this was different, Luke was strong now and he wouldn't lose anyone ever again.

Finishing too soon for his own liking, Luke stood again, moving to dry them both. Breathing slowly still, he had more time before they returned to wakefulness. Grinning and humming as he cared for his fiancee, Luke moved from the bath to his room, setting them on his bed while he turned to the dresser, dressing himself quickly before turning to his fiancee's clothing.

Frills and ribbons and soft things suited his fiancee best, and Luke kept enough in his room for them. That damn suitcase, he'd barely even bothered to unpack, held most of what he cared about. The rest of the stuff here was fluff. Settling on a soft nightgown, Luke stroked the old patched bear on his dresser before returning to the bed.

Once, he had done terrible things to them, but now, he was able to take care of them. He was loved, and he loved in turn. It was a different type of feeling, though no less all-consuming than his hatred. He'd take care of everything, so they wouldn't have to worry about anything other than spoiling him.

Gently propping them against his chest, Luke rolled the sleeves over their arms, the fabric down their torso, until they were both dressed comfortably and a happy sigh escaped their mouth. They really did resemble a bunny, nuzzling their face into his chest so sweetly. His little bunny in a den of beasts, but he was their protector, here to keep them safe. Both of them safe and warm in his bed, the window spilling sunlight over them both, Luke was more relaxed than he'd been in recent memory. A gentle kiss to his fiancee's head saw Luke join them in sleep, clutched to his chest.

--

The setting sun saw Luke wake, with them still wrapped in his arms. Eyes open, though heavy from the drugs, their face warm from embarrassment even as they rested on his chest. He felt his grin return as he sat up and pressed kisses to his fiancee's face. Shaking their head, they pressed a kiss to his own cheek. Moving to squirm softly out of his grip with apologies, he rolled over to trap them back where they belonged, safe and warm and cared for.

"Don' worry, you know I love taking care of you."

--

Luke isn't a mean yandere, he's a soft boy. You just have a mutually codependent relationship in an unfamiliar environment where most people judge both of you and live a fundamentally foreign lifestyle to everything you've ever known. Don't think about it too hard. Luke will take care of it.

TAGS:

@candied-boys @omkookie

[contentloadingandstuff]

Down Bad For You - Fontaine Girls x Male!Reader

A/N: The idea behind this one is this - what "pervy" kinks do the Genshin girls have? Since it's men that are usually depicted as having these, I thought it would be a nice change of pace. Women are like that too, though we view them as more "proper". They can be horny just like us men, even if they're fictional. The research for this one was fun, as I've never really explored the other perspective. I've planned this for each nation's characters, and I'm even open to writing something like this for the male cast - if my handful of fem readers want me to. Anyway, enjoy!

A/N2: The gif is how I imagine them thinking of these.

CW: Anal, roleplay, BDSM, pain play, Dom/sub dynamics, consensual non-consent, sex work roleplay. Very "concentrated" smut.

Everybody feels extra naughty once in a while - that applies to girls too. They are commonly believed to be more proper and restrained than guys, but that’s hardly true - they can be just as obscene in thought and action as men. They have their needs too, no? And although (most) of them wouldn’t admit to their dirty wants to anyone except you, are these really bad? After all, a girl being hopelessly horny for her man is hardly a sin. 

The care and love that Furina receives from you is something she values deeply. Sometimes, when she looks up at you, she feels like all she wants to do is to make you happy. Do everything, just to hear “good girl” fall from your lips. It's no wonder, then, that she likes to call you “daddy” when she's under you. No matter how rough you are, Furina will hide her face in your arms and take it - you want her to feel good, so there's no reason to worry. All you have to do is ask, and in return, you'll get to hear ‘yes daddy' and ‘I love you daddy'. Praise her often, let her act on her fantasies, and she'll be as happy as can be. 

Clorinde’s profession, and her main source of income, is being a duelist for hire. But what if she had a… different job? One where all a guy has to do is jingle a few Mora in front of her to get her tits out? Of course, being a prostitute is not something any sane woman - let alone Clorinde - would do, but the thought of being your pussy for hire gets her positively drenched. Perhaps it's the feeling of submission, the knowledge that you can do anything you want to her for the right price? Or maybe it's the chance to act like a bold, shameless whore without worrying about her image in your eyes? No matter the reason, she'll be thrilled if you let her indulge that fantasy in the bedroom. It's a fun way to signal what you feel like - give her a handful of Mora and she'll give you a hand, but a jingling purse will move her panties out of the way. Since it's just roleplay, the money doesn't really play a part and is usually just there for fun. But if you ever want to give her money, do it this way - you'll get an opportunity to see her furious blush as she pays for a dress or a new hat, remembering what exactly she had to touch and suck to “earn” these Mora…

Handsy? That's an understatement when talking about Navia. This woman keeps her hands glued to you, and they always seem to travel down to your balls. She absolutely adores these little guys. Watching a movie? She's rolling your nuts in her hand under the blanket. Cuddling? Her warm hand wraps around them and keeps them comfy. Railing her? She'll keep your sack in place with a firm grip. You can expect plenty of worship coming their way, as there's no better aftercare than having your sack spit-shined by an eager mouth. Balls are soft, cool and tender, feeling so perfectly masculine in her hands. All she is doing is giving your baby makers what's theirs - it's thanks to them that her belly bulges time and time again with cute, healthy babies. There's something exciting, though, in how nervous you get when she squeezes them a little tighter or drags her teeth over the sensitive skin. She has your masculinity, your male pride, in the palm of her hand, doesn't she? Don't worry - she won't damage the goods, as you still have plenty of kids to fuck into her~

She's a rare example of a person that really likes each part of her job. Writing, interviewing, taking photos and capturing things on film - Charlotte enjoys each part of the process, and that obviously bleeds into the bedroom. Her trusty Kamera captured more than just famous people, she'll have you know. She has entire smut albums at home, brimming with filthy pictures that show a completely different, far more slutty side of the journalist. Of course, she has a big reputation to uphold - these pictures getting out would be a major blow to her image, but what's life without a little risk? Nobody but you knows that Charlotte walks around with a few of these pics folded up in her wallet. And she doesn't play a stakeless game - she makes sure that each picture includes some part of her face, or at least a clue to her identity, usually the pink tuft of trimmed pubes. Each time she opens her wallet in public, she feels a tingle of excitement mixed with fear at the prospect of somebody seeing her creampied pussy, your thick cum pouring out like dense cream, or just what kind of facial expression she pulls when there's a cock lodged balls deep in her asshole. Of course, you have free access to the whole collection - she trusts you to keep them between you and her. The benefits of developing the photos yourself, right?

As all proper, young ladies, Emilie read a lot of books during her youth and continues doing so to this day. Some of the titles she stumbled upon were more… improper than others, but they quickly became her (literal) dirty pleasure. She found a special interest in mixing pain with pleasure. Whips, clamps, spiked wheels, cuffs and many more torture implements fill her collections, all ready to provide the most intense of experiences. Emilie used to lament to herself that she had no man that would embrace her, let alone her kink, but now? My, the possibilities are endless! She made herself a special playroom, and when she's in there - you're free to do anything your mind conjures to her, no matter how mean it is. Within the pre-established rules, of course. Hoist her up by the panties and just lay back, watching her wiggle helplessly and moan as the fabric bites into her plump pussy. Stuff your boxers into her mouth fingerblast her, adding heavier weights to her poor nipples every time she trembles from the pleasure. Punish her disobedience with relentless edging and an unlubed dildo up her ass. Don't stop, even when she finally releases the stress and pain you inflicted on her all over your cock. And when you're done, scoop up your exhausted wife and shower her with kisses - there's nothing nicer than some love and cuddles after being so thoroughly tormented. 

It's always the quiet ones. Would you expect the quiet and socially awkward Lynette to hand you a vibe and a remote? She's an expert in keeping up appearances, so do your worst. Lynette can take even the highest setting with only a blush and grimace, but it's the long game that gets her. Lynette knows this, and the first hour is always a desperate fight not to cum too much, as she knows overstimulation will crack her stoic facade. Show some patience and you'll catch a sight of her knees buckling or her tail shivering. Don't wear her out too soon though, there's still a lot of things she needs to get done. Before she started doing this regularly, conversations with people were boring and exhausting. They still are tiring, don't get her wrong, but now they are constant battles to keep herself from whining out loud and collapsing on the floor. Luckily, her brothers and friends don't have her feline hearing and she's the only one that can hear - and feel - the constant buzz inside her folds. 

Gods, you're so hot. Chevruse can't help but think of you and only you when you are away. Your body, your scent, your warmth, your beautiful voice… The groans as you chase your pleasure, the ravenous way you fuck her until you're content, only to do mount her again in a few minutes… You're so strong and insatiable. She always wondered how it would be to share you with other girls and watch as you juggle pussies and mouths as you see fit. If you'll have her, Chevruse will gladly offer a threesome, maybe even a foursome to her friends. Wouldn't it be nice? To have two other pussies to fuck when your main toy breaks? It's also a great way of bonding between besties. After all, what brings girls closer that sloppily sharing a load with Emilie or eating your creampie straight out of Chiori's cunt? 

Being independent and strong is a significant part of Chiori’s character. Wouldn't it be nice, though, to give up some of that every now and again? Have someone care for her, keep her close and tell her what's good for her? Of course it would - who would use this power better than a man? And what man would take better care of her than you, her darling husband? Keep in mind, though, that Chiori tends to be sassy and sarcastic with you - she clearly needs discipline. It's not that she doesn't respect you, she keeps her tone quiet and gaze low to the ground when you're her ‘Sir’, but she'll act bratty just to feel you dominate and discipline her. You may nominally punish her, but she's having the time of her life being set straight by a strong, mature, older and more experienced man. Every time she comes home late from the shop, her knees buckle at the thought of what she'll be doing in a while - digging her nails into your pants and whimpering into your thigh as you paint her ass red with your belt, make her kneel on dried peas or lock the bathroom door until she's feeling truly sorry. Every time, after enduring her punishment, Chiori will cling to you, seeking comfort and forgiveness from her ‘Sir’. Though this kink of hers shows up only behind closed doors, she might sometimes call you the honorific in a hushed tone, or hang off your arm as you take her out to dinner or the theater. Maybe submitting to a man isn't as bad as she thought - it definitely is hot as hell. 

Everyone is very respectful and fearful of Arlecchino, which does, at times, make her days very dull. Oh how she would love someone to come in, disrespect her, and give her a reason to let her frustrations out. While this does happen sometimes, she never gets to experience the smutty kind of that. And that's when you come in. Since she’s lucky to have a man of her own, Arlecchino won't hesitate to use you for all you are worth. But she doesn't just want to be made angry, no. She'll clearly communicate what she wants - she wants to be helpless, she wants to be angry, she wants to be desperate until she can't take it anymore and she just breaks. She'll love nothing less than being tied up and forced to cum way beyond what she can take, having her mind melted into slop over hours of stimulation. Vibes and wands are your friends here. Tie her up and just leave her there, maybe slap your cock across her face to rile her up even more. After the overstimulation kicks in, at first she'll be angry - Arlecchino will curse you, for the audacity of doing this to Harbinger and will threaten you with the worst fates imaginable. It's just good fun, so you shouldn't take it seriously, and neither should you stop until you hear the safe word. Push her to her limits. She loves it. Her noble blood, her titles, her position, her power, her influences… She can bring them up all she wants, but they won’t give her anything - not when there's a wand on max power, blasting her clit for the third hour in a row. Eventually you'll hear her beg, plead with you to let her rest, but don't relent. Push her further, watch as she understands that nothing will change her predicament and begs for mercy with her eyes, creaming on the toy time and time again until you grant her mercy. But don't go just yet. You must be so horny and frustrated, all because you indulged her in this. It's only right for her to give you some pleasure too, so go ahead and fuck her stupid, for good measure. Make sure there's not a conscious thought behind her crossed eyes. She can take all of this, don't worry. Arlecchino isn't some delicate girl that will yield to anything. She's a woman, and your own toy - she can take a proper punishment. If anything is wrong, she'll use the safe word, but that doesn't happen often - after all, you know your wife's body so well. 

Thanks for reading!

[raplinesmoon]

원샷! (One-Shot!) - MYG X F!Reader

Part 1.5: Half The Man

series masterlist

pairing: Doctor!Yoongi x Doctor!Reader genre(s): crack, fluff, angst (i'm sorry) au(s): medical AU, idiots-to-lovers (not quite yet) word count: 1.7k chapter warnings: cynical Yoongi, Jeonghan cameo!, hospital talk, artificial insemination and pregnancy, sperm for insemnation switched without readers’ knowledge/consent, Yoongi has no filter, mentions of previously regretful acts done while drunk, arguments, lots of unresolved feelings, did I mention they’re idiots (affectionate), rating: 18+

summary: As your pregnancy progresses, Yoongi continues to wrestle with his long-standing feelings, culminating in an argument that has you making an unexpected move.

a/n: Hi, thank you so much to everyone that has shown love to this series. I'm so sorry that it took me so long to upload the second part, I struggled a lot to continue writing this partly because of my own insecurity, partly because of other things (which I don't want to get into). But Doc!Yoongi is so fun to write! I hope you enjoy!

disclaimer: I do not own, or have any affiliation with BTS. Any similarity between the version of the idol(s) mentioned and portrayed here and their real life counterparts is purely coincidental, and does not represent the thoughts and opinions of said idol(s). Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. This specific fic is based on the 2010 movie The Switch, which contains sensitive themes relating to accidental artificial insemnation, consent, and pregnancy. Please do your research before engaging with this fic, as these themes may not be for everyone.

The small splotch on Yoongi’s white coat, the byproduct of an accidental run-in with a very flustered Jeon Jungkook holding a very hot cup of coffee, had now turned into an unsightly bloom. Yoongi rubbed at the stain, cursing under his breath that he’d skipped laundry day this week.

To make matters worse, he’d gotten an impromptu page right in the middle of his lunch break. The three tiny beeps went off, and Yoongi’s face turned stark white.

“Oh no,” you gave him the most sympathetic look you could muster, your eyes turning misty. The pregnancy had thrown your hormones completely out of balance, the smallest inconvenience turning into enough to make you cry. “Jeonghan?”

“Jeonghan,” Yoongi sighs. 

…

The frigid air in Jeonghan’s office was nearly enough to rival the stare he currently possesses. Yoongi has to resist the urge to scoff. Yoon Jeonghan was the head of his department, full of pride with a face to match his inflated ego. A handful of years younger than Yoongi, he’d only gotten the position after Yoongi had turned it down multiple times, grumbling about how he was too busy taking care of real patients to deal with all the paperwork that department heads had to put up with. 

“I’m going to be very frank with you Dr. Min,” Jeonghan leans over his desk, a few stray papers falling to the floor. “You’re falling apart.” 

Yoongi bristles, shuffling his feet. He’d felt off ever since the night of your party, and even worse a few weeks later when you told him you were pregnant, all the memories coming back to him. He’d pushed it out of his mind, but clearly Jeonghan had noticed which meant it was affecting his work.

“Namjoon says you’re ordering X-rays and labs for your patients, but not coming up with any diagnoses.”

He straightens, heat coming to his face. “Dr. Yoon, I can explain—“

“No need, Dr. Min. The whole hospital knows you’re in love with ___. You don’t do a great job of hiding it.”

If there was ever a time Yoongi wished a sinkhole would open up and swallow the hospital whole, it was now (not that he’d thought about it before). Almost as if he can sense Yoongi’s sheer embarrassment, Jeonghan is by his side in no time, pulling up a chair to catch Yoongi’s unsteadily swaying figure.

“I’m too fucking sober for this conversation,” Yoongi groans, plopping into the comfortable cushion, Jeonghan looking on with an amused smile.

“That’s probably why Seungcheol also said he saw you throwing up in the hallway like a sorority girl the night of ___’s party.”

Yoongi cursed his stupid neighbour, who also happened to be one of the hospital’s charge nurses, for ratting him out. But then again, a free therapy session with his director was hard to come by, so maybe Yoongi would need to stop and buy Cheol a coffee sometime.

“He has a PhD from Harvard… HARVARD,” Yoongi whines, thinking back to the stupidly attractive man he’d met who was going to be your sperm donor.

“You’re just mad because ___ put you in the friendzone,” Jeonghan sighs.

“We put each other in the friendzone,” Yoongi interrupts, but Jeonghan waves him away.

“No, you had your chance six years ago when both of you started working here, and you blew it.”

“How did I blow it?” Yoongi questions, even though he knows exactly how – and what you’d say if he ever had the guts to ask.

“You went all Yoongi on her — it kills the vibes. You showed too much crazy too soon,” Jeonghan is moving around him now, picking up the stray papers, and Yoongi’s patience becomes thinner than the 11 blade he uses for procedures.

“Oh I’m sorry, did your extortionate divorce settlement teach you that?” He quips back, purposefully sliding his chair onto some of the sheets so Jeonghan can’t reach them.

“Yoongi, you sent me a picture of your armpit three weeks ago while I was in the middle of a surgery.”

“I thought I had a growth! You’re a doctor, you should want to help me!”

“Newsflash, Min, we’re all doctors in here.” And Yoongi knows Jeonghan’s right – he was eccentric, too much at times. But somehow, you never seemed to mind, from always having his back through his daily rants, to showing up at his apartment with a tub of ice cream after his call shifts so you two could make affogatos (Yoongi was nothing if not a caffeine addict).

He hears the door click shut behind him, and Jeonghan’s gone, leaving Yoongi alone with his thoughts, thoughts he’s had many times before. But somehow, it all feels different this time around. You’re pregnant with a child - his child, and you’re not supposed to be. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and yet, he can’t have it because it would mean confessing that he’d messed up. And like Jeonghan, Yoongi much preferred to shut the door on things rather than let anyone in.

The moan you let out is borderline indecent, and probably not something you should be doing in the middle of your best friend’s apartment. But you were four months pregnant, and the tangy spice of the kkaenip-kimchi Yoongi had prepared for you at 1am was the best thing you’d ever put in your mouth.

“My eomma would have a heart attack if she saw you eating unfermented kimchi at 1am, she says—” 

“The fermentation is good for the baby, I know, I know,” you finish Yoongi’s sentence with a pout. “But I wanted kimchi now.”

“You’re lucky I’m Korean. What if you didn’t have a best friend like me and your random kimchi cravings hit?” Yoongi chuckles, his gums peeking out from one of his rare smiles. The dim lights from the city skyline reflect onto the window behind Yoongi, casting a faint glow over him, and you feel your heart flip-flop, unsure if it’s from nausea or something else.

“I would have gone to H-Mart or something, or called up Seokjin,” you mumble under your breath, but Yoongi, the ever preceptive one between the two of you, catches your hushed response.

“You’re still in touch with him?” His face is pale, a far-away look in his eyes, and you feel your stomach drop, a lead weight settling on your chest.

A strange heat crawls up your spine, and you feel yourself flush at the iciness in Yoongi’s tone, wanting to defend yourself.

“Of course I am Yoongi. The whole point of doing this was so that I could have a donor that I’d be able to meet face to face, look him in the eyes, shake his hand —”

“What, are you going to marry him or something?” Yoongi cuts through your rambling, eyes blazing. “I thought the whole point of this was having a baby. I thought he didn’t matter.”

“Obviously he matters, but not like that, I just–” you trip over your words, unsure why you’re growing so frustrated. This isn’t what you expected when you’d called Yoongi up asking for kimchi. “Why are you being so weird about this?”

“I’m not being weird,” Yoongi’s back is to you, shuffling around in the kitchen. He is being weird, refusing to meet your eyes. “It’s just – what if you meet someone tomorrow? Or in six months? What if you fall in love? Isn’t that an important part of this?”

“This isn’t like you Yoongi,” you shove your bowl of kimchi to the side, wrapping your coat around your arm. Yoongi pales, watching you get up to leave. “I’m not going to spend my life waiting for some what-if. I didn’t exactly dream of this okay? It wasn’t like I was sitting there suffering through med school, just pondering the idea of putting an ad out for a sperm donor one day! But this is real, and it’s happening, and even though you’ll never say it, you think I’m making the wrong choice. You’re supposed to be my friend!”

Your voice breaks at the last sentence, eyes filling with tears. Yoongi had always been there for every stage of your life, through all your terrible dates and failed situationships. He’d been your one constant, but lately it felt like he was fading, purposely removing himself from your life the moment you’d told him you were going through with this.

“I think we need to take some time apart. We need a time-out,” you throw your coat over your shoulders, and Yoongi stiffens, a choked sound escaping him.

“Already learning how to speak mom,” Yoongi quips, but his signature Yoongi humour isn’t enough to quell the rage filling your body. You don’t spare him a second glance, turning on your heel, letting the door slam behind you before you fall apart.

Yoongi wasn’t just your friend, he was so much more than that, but now you weren’t sure if he remained anything to you at all.

Jeonghan’s face is no longer smug when he breaks the news to Yoongi. You’re moving back home, claiming that the city is no place to raise a child. For once, Yoongi is thankful that the younger man doesn’t let his ego get in the way, opening the door to his office so Yoongi can lament in peace, the walls he’d built around his heart growing higher and higher. 

Two weeks later, you were gone. Yoongi stood with you as the moving trucks pulled up, watching you get choked up, the two of you barely having the guts to say more than a simple goodbye, for fear that you’d crack and say the wrong thing. 

Yoongi had always thought of himself as a mature, stable adult, but he fell apart at your leaving, feeling much like a child in need of constant attention. Your words ring back to him – a timeout. You’d left your friendship in constant purgatory – daily texts turned into once-a-week phone calls, which then turned into once-a-month emails, until you’d exchange Christmas cards once a year.

Seven years passed by in the blink of an eye - bringing with them two failed relationships, a stock market crash, a new roommate in the form of a poodle named Holly, and one phone call that changed everything.

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[macsimagines]

Yandere Taiju, Sanzu and Baji baby grappling their darling

I did a taiju one separately but Baji and Sanzu are very exciting

TW:YANDERE BEHAVIOR, NON-CON, DRUG MENTION, BREEDING KINK, BABY TRAPPING

Yandere!Sanzu Haruchiyo

He does love you, truly he is very devoted to you. But he is still himself and he has many faults that make it very hard for you to want to be with him.

For all his love you still come second to Mikey, "Only Mikey," is his argument, but it still stings knowing you're never the number one priority.

Next is how he lives on the edge, even by gangster standards, Sanzu is a bit much. The drugs and violence even have some top members of Bonten nervous.

And you wants a family. You want a safe neighborhood to live in, a beautiful house and children to raise and love. You want to be a wife and deep down you know... You can't be Sanzu's wife.

Not that he'll ever hear or accept that. No, you're only supposed to be with him. Forever. In his own way he tries to convince you, tries to show the life and luxuries he can afford for you, but none of the expensive dresses or five star hotels and gourmet meals make you feel like this is the man you can build a life with...

Sanzu knows it too. He can feel your hesitation whenever you're together, like you're dying to get away. And truthfully, he didn't want a family. He just wanted you. Children will get in the way, you'll love the baby more and they'll take up all of your attention.

But the thought of you wanting to leave is worse than the feeling of having to share sooo... He slips something in your drink. He does it rarely, only when you're starting to talk about wanting to move forward in life or when he doesn't want to hear you deny him nookie.

And you're soo cute like this, pliable and vulnerable. You can't argue with him when you're too out of it too even make more than a few sounds.

Don't worry baby, he'll take care of everything. Just relax and when he finally lets you sober up you'll have a baby in you.

Yandere! Baji Keisuke

Babygirl he wants it more than anything. Putting a baby in you is what gets him going 90% of the time now, the other 10% being the idea of making you his wife.

It happened when he saw you holding a baby, one of your friends, and he just loved the way you cooed and rocked the infant. Like you were made to do it.

Baji brings it up later, casually. "Looked like a real mom for a second there, Y/N. Think you could hack it?" "Uh, I dunno. I don't really think about it."

Oh, but he does. Constantly ever since that day, putting a baby in you is his favorite daydream. You holding a sweet infant with his hair and your eyes.

He's not subtle about it really, he forgoes condoms altogether whenever you two fuck now. "You're so fucking pretty when you're full of me baby," he's going to whisper in your ear, pumping you with everything he's got.

Breeding King, he's got you taking it from the back, from the front, on the couch in the bathtub and even on the kitchen counter. Always making sure to praise you, "Good girl, taking it all," "Gonna cum, make me a daddy-Fuck!" "You're gonna look sooo good, mama~!"

You try not to worry about it, you've got birth control right? But then Baji finds out about it, of course that idiot had no idea what it was.

"Wha'dya mean you're on the pill? Hell have I been breaking my back for!?"

Oof he does not like that he's been wasting his cum baby, he needs it to make you the perfect mama he dreams and wants. So of course without your knowledge or consent he throws it out.

"B-Baji! I need my phone so I can refill my prescription!" "No. You don't need anything that's gonna keep me and you from making our baby."

And now you're not leaving the house, talking to your friends or even allowed to look out the window. Nothing that distracts you from doing what you were made for.

"C'mon, Mama. Don't pout. This is what we both want."

[vanfleeter]

For Death or For Glory: Chapter 4

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Lily, Chris Turpin, Josh Kiszka, Sam Kiszka Word count: 3.2k Warnings: 18+ || Language. Angst. Threats. Nightmares. Worry. Denial of being in love. Mentions of starvation. Smut. Topless moment. (As always, if I miss anything, please let me know so I can add it to the list)

As the crew slept the first night at sea, the waters finally calmed, Jacob found himself unable to do so. He hadn't seen Lily since they boarded the ship. He was thrown straight into work after getting settled in his claimed bunk below. He needed to see her, to know if she was alright. Was she having a nightmare again? He would hear her scream, wouldn't he?

Quietly climbing out of his bunk and he tiptoes through the cabin, carefully so he doesn't wake anyone up. Ascending the steps to the main deck, he steps out into the cold, night air, shivering slightly. The main deck he found to be completely empty of any other living soul, save for the man seated in the crow’s nest high above keeping an eye on things down below. Though he seemed to be asleep, as Jacob hears his snoring from all the way up there. Some look out.

Keeping his footsteps light, he walks over to the main cabin and peers inside through the porthole window. “Peeping Tom, eh?” Jacob flinches and turns around, his face hardening as his eyes land on Christopher.

“I was only seeing if Lily was alright.”

“Seems pretty fine to me,” Christopher says as he walks up to the door.

“She has trouble sleeping at times,” Jacob says.

“Don't worry.. If she gets stormy seas inside that pretty head of hers, I’ll take good care of her.”

“But..”

“You belong down below, Jacob. You have no place here.”

Jacob’s jaw clenched and his fists ball at his hands. “If you touch her without her knowledge or consent, I will come for you.”

“Is that a threat?” Christopher chuckles. “You dare threaten your captain?” His eyes grow dark and he steps up to Jacob, towering ever so slightly above him. “Speak to me in such a way again and you will find yourself at the Prince’s mercy when we reach the islands. You and your brothers won't make it to America to save your friend.. And she…” He chuckles. “She will be his wife.”

Jacob’s furrow. “How..”

“Lydia becomes a blabber mouth when she’s used the right way.” He smirks. “So I suggest you keep to yourself, follow any orders you are given, and play the game the right way. Nobody cared about you in the little port town, but a lot will care about you when we reach the Caribbean.”

“We’re supposed to be going to America.”

“And we will, but I have duties to attend to first before we get there. Now go back down to your bunk and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be rough.”

As dawn approaches and the crew is woken up, they file up to the main deck to eat what food they were served for breakfast before being thrusted straight into work. Again, Jacob never saw Lily emerge from the main cabin. Joshua knew he was growing worried, seeing the look on Jacob’s face in passing.

Luckily, Joshua was then assigned to bring food to Lily for lunch. At least one of them would know her status.

Holding the tray of food in one hand, Joshua knocks on the door and waits for her reply. Instead he hears Christopher’s voice calling him inside. Pulling open the door, Joshua steps inside the cabin, his eyes immediately landing on Lily. She sits on the window seat, with her chin resting on her knees as she looks out of the window.

“Joshua, thank you for bringing us food.” Christopher says as he stands up from his desk. “Smells delightful.”

“Yes, of course.” Joshua says as he sets the plate of food down on the nearest table.

Christopher walks over and picks up an apple. “I’m going to make my rounds,” He announces to no one in particular before stepping out of the room. Once the door is closed, Joshua quickly goes over to the window seat and perches on it beside her.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Lily shakes her head.

“Has he…touched..you?”

“No..” Lily speaks, her voice bland and void of any emotion.

“Jacob tried to come see you last night.. He was worried you’d be having nightmares again.”

“I did…” Lily pulls her chin away from her knees and finally looks at Joshua. Her eyes sparkled with tears. “I’ve kept my distance from Jacob, but I regret it. I needed him last night.. I asked for him but Christopher wouldn't allow it.”

“Maybe if I speak with him, he’ll allow Jacob to come see you.”

“I fear he won’t let him,” Lily sniffles. “I don't know what is going on between them, but I know I can’t survive these four weeks at sea without Jacob. I should hate him for what he’s done, but something in me wants him beside me.”

Joshua smiles just a little and he reaches over to pat Lily’s knee. “I will see what I can do.” He says. He reaches over, pulling Lily into a hug. “I have to go though, but I promise, I will do everything I can.”

Jacob rushes over to Joshua as he pulls on the ropes. “Did you see her?”

“Yeah..”

“H-How is she?” Jacob asks.

“Pull the ropes,” Joshua mutters through his teeth. “He’s watching.”

Jacob grabs hold of the ropes and begins to pull on them. “Is she okay?”

“No.. She had a nightmare again and she wanted you. She even asked for you but she was denied.. He denied her request. He’s treating her like a–”

“Like a woman?” Jacob says. Joshua nods his head. “He threatened me last night.. And her. Basically said if I spoke to him in the wrong way again, all three of us won’t make it to America and Lily will marry the Prince.”

“Well.. There goes my plan.” Joshua mutters as he pulls on the ropes.

“What plan?”

“I was going to try to get him to allow you to see Lily.. But seeing as that happened, my request will probably be denied.”

“You have to try at least,” Jacob says as he continues pulling on the ropes. “Please.”

“After all the bickering you two do, I assumed you didn't like her. Am I wrong?”

“Don’t think too much into this, brother.” Jacob says. “She doesn't like me for who I am. She especially doesn’t like me because I have killed.. I’m surprised she has even asked for me.. I figured the Captain would have appeased her by now.”

“She does not want him.. She asked specifically for you.”

“Jacob!” Another crew member calls out. “Your presence is needed in the main cabin.”

“Good luck.” Joshua says.

Wiping his hands off on his pants, Jacob heads across the deck towards the main cabin. When he steps through the door, his eyes scan the room until they line up with Lily. She’s perched on the window seat, her eyes void of any emotion.

“Seems that our princess is requesting to have your presence here at night,” Christopher says, pulling Jake’s attention to him instead. Our princess? “Claims it’s because of nightmares.”

The tone of his voice alone makes Jake’s body tense. “Yes, sir..” He says. “I…have been helping her work through them.”

“And how do you help her?”

Jake’s brows furrow. “I don’t believe that is any of your concern.”

“It is my concern when it involves one of my crewmen. Does she require any sexual–”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Captain.” Jake says with a clenched jaw. “With all due respect, none of this is sexual. She only requires me to be close.”

Christopher arches an eyebrow and glances over at Lily. “I will allow it, but only at night. That is the only time you are allowed to see her royal highness.”

Jake looks back at Lily and meets her eyes. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“I don't think I permitted you to speak with her.”

Jake’s jaw tightens but he keeps his eyes focused on Lily. “Are you okay?” He repeats. When Lily nods her head, he inhales deeply and returns the gesture. “I’ll see you when the sun goes down, alright?” Lily nods her head again and he turns back around and leaves the main cabin to get back to work on the ship.

As the night wound down and the crew went below deck, Jacob made his way to the main cabin. Knocking on the door a few times, he waits for her response and when she calls, he steps into the room and closes the door behind him. Without warning, he feels her arms wrap around him and hug him tightly.

“Thank you..” She says.

“Oh um.. You’re welcome..” He says.

“I’m going insane in here.” She says as she pulls away from him. “He won’t let me leave the cabin and I can only see the sun through the window and I can’t feel it..” She huffs a breath and walks over to the bed. “I don’t understand why he is treating me like this.. I haven't done anything.”

“You don't have to do anything.. He obviously knew who you were beforehand and he knows about the arranged marriage with the Prince.”

“I do not want to marry him.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Jake walks over to the bed and sits down beside her. “You’re too bratty to be a wife.”

“Oh thank you,” She says, shoving him to the side. “You’re so very kind.. However I think there might only be one man who could handle my bratty self.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“You.”

Jacob scoffs, shaking his head. “I can’t stand you being a brat. You’re too stubborn.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” She says. “You’re also arrogant..”

“Would an arrogant man be sitting here with you because you’re too scared to sleep?”

She shoves him again. “Shut up.”

He smiles slightly and he leans forward on his knees. “I still have them too.” He says. “Or I did until we shared that bed the first night.” He says. “Remember when I told you that I dream of my father’s death on occasion?”

“Yeah.”

“It happens every night… At least it did until the first night you had your nightmares. Being close to you.. They.. They stopped.”

“Did you have one last night?” She asks. “Down in your bunk.. Did you have one?”

Jacob nods his head. “Yes.. But it was brief.. Did you?”

“Yes..”

“Did he touch you?”

“Christopher?”

“Yes.. Did he touch you?” He asks again, looking over his shoulder.

“No.. I wouldn't let him. I guess that’s when you came up to check on me.” She scoots to the edge of the bed and rests her head on his shoulder. “I know you don't like me–and I can definitely be a pain in the ass–but somehow I have found solace in the most unlikely person.”

“Well don’t get used to it.” He smirks. “Plus I have a feeling that when we reach the Caribbean, everything is going to change.”

“You don't know that.”

“I worry, you know..” He leans back, with his arms propped up behind him. “As soon as our feet hit the shore, my brother and I won’t be making it to America.”

“You don’t know that either..”

“I chose this life, Lily. The consequences will catch up to me sooner or later.”

“Well I hope later.. Because I need you.”

“You need me?” He questions, arching a brow.

“Don’t ever expect me to say that again.”

Jacob chuckles and he moves to lag down on the bed. “I won’t.” He pats the empty space beside him. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Lily exhaled a deep breath and crawled over to lay beside him. Jacob couldn't tell if she was upset or if it was something else. He couldn't blame her though. He didn't want to go to sleep because he knew this was the only time he would ever see her. Once a day, while Christopher kept her locked away in here. She wasn't a prisoner. Sure she was a woman, a princess at that, but he’s seen plenty still allowed to roam the decks and not be stuck in a stuffy room with little light.

As he began to doze off to sleep, he found himself tracing circles with his fingers on the skin of her hip. He would never admit it, but he honestly felt the same way she did when they were close like this. His mind was clear for once and never raging seas like the ones that currently surround them. He enjoyed the feeling of her body pressed up against his.

“Jacob?” Her voice pulls him from his thoughts and he peels his eyes open.

“Hmmm?” He glances down at her. Her eyelids flutter open and she lifts her eyes to look at him. The moonlight was filtering in at the perfect time, casting a milky glow across her features.

“Do you want to be a pirate for the rest of your life?” She asks.

“It’s the only life where I feel free.”

“How does one become a pirate?”

“You join a crew.. Or at least that’s what my brothers and I did.. But you're a woman.. Women can't be pirates.”

“Lydia is one..”

“Yeah well..” Jacob sighs. “Lydia grew up the daughter of one–so it’s different.”

“Oh..” Lily lowers her eyes and adjusts her body.

Jacob’s body tenses when he feels her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt rub against his side. Stay relaxed. What he was expecting was for Lily to pull away and crawl over to the edge of the bed to begin pulling off her shirt.

What is she doing?

He watches her as she hunches over. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.. It just tends to get too warm in here..” She says. “He keeps the window locked so the air never circulates.”

That was true. It was rather warm here. Although it felt the same down in the bunks too. Hot and stuffy, smelling of poor body odor and bodily fluids. Sure that was the life he chose but sometimes hygiene can go a long way for these men.

He could see the bones of her spine protruding beneath her skin, and as his eyes scanned the expanse of her exposed back and shoulders he could see just how skinny she had gotten. It wasn’t drastic but it was slightly noticeable. But it’s been two days. Has she not eaten at all?

“Lily..” He calls. “Do you eat at all?” He asks.

“Yes..” It was an obvious lie.

“Lily, do not lie to me.” He sits up on the bed and turns to face her. “Do. You. Eat?” Her shoulders drop and she reluctantly shakes her head. “Why do you not eat?”

“It’s not that I don't want to,” She says. “But he doesn't give me much.. If I had known that this is how I would have been treated, I would have stayed back on that island.” He hears her sniffle and his own chest tightens.

“Lily..”

“How am I going to survive four weeks on this damn ship?” Her voice cracks as she swipes her hand across her face. “Even on my father's ship, I was treated better than this despite being a woman. He hates me and I don't know why. I have done nothing to deserve such treatment as this.”

“I’m sorry..” Jacob says.

Lily scoffs. “You? Sorry? You let him take me away.”

That is true. When they boarded, he didn't even say a word to keep her with them. He was wrong. He knows he’s wrong.

“I thought you would have been alright.. He took such a liking to you, I–” He sighs. “I’m sorry. I should've told him you were staying with us. At least then you’d be getting food and be out in fresher air.” He moves across the bed and sits behind her. “I will do my best to help you, okay?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I always keep my promises.” He says.

He tries to fight it but he finds himself resting his hand on her shoulder. “Jacob..”

“Hmm?”

“Do pirates fall in love?” She asks.

“No..”

She falls silent and he chews on the inside of her bottom lip. He wouldn't call it love but he does feel something for her. He slides his hand down her shoulder to her bicep.

“I don’t know what love is..”

“Have you never been in love?”

He retracts his hand, resting it on his thigh. “No..”

She turns to face him and he has to keep his eyes focused solely on hers. “Would you ever let yourself fall in love?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know.. I’ve always seen myself sailing, exploring the world–”

“Stealing?”

He can’t fight the smirk that appears on his face. “I can never be the honest man that you seek, Lily. So no.. I don’t think I’d let myself fall in love.”

“Oh..”

“You deserve someone better. Someone who will always be around. Someone who isn’t constantly running from their past, literally and figuratively.”

“What if I only wanted you?”

Jacob shakes his head. “I could never let you do that.. Your life is on land, where you belong. Somewhere that I do not. You cannot love me. You shouldn't love me.”

“I am in charge of my own feelings,” Lily says as she moves closer to Jacob. “I am free to love who I want.”

“Why me? If it is me.. I am nothing but a filthy pirate, as you’ve once described me.”

“I have always known you Jacob. I have called you that because that is what I saw you as, but I guess deep down, you’re still the blacksmith’s son. One of them, at least. I knew who you were before you chose to become a pirate. I know this is your life now, but it doesn't have to be.”

“I can’t be that man for you.”

Her hand comes up to rest on his cheek. “I just want you to be you.”

Jacob is startled awake by the cabin door being flung open. “Rise and shine, Jacob! You’re assigned the crow’s nest today.” Christopher's voice rings through the cabin. Lily is moving beside him, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. She was dressed, never once removing her shirt. It was all a dream, yet it all felt so real.

Sliding out of the bed, he glances at Lily once more and nods his head before leaving the cabin. He stops Joshua as they pass on the deck. “Make sure she gets more than just bread to eat today.”

Joshua nods his head. “Of course.”

“Give her my food if need be.”

“But Jacob–”

“I’m up there all day,” He says, pointing to the top of the mast. “I can go one day. Just give her my plate.”

Joshua sighs and agrees anyway. “Alright..”

Jacob pats his shoulder before heading over to the center mast and climbing the ropes to the top. He settles down into the small wooden barrel and rests against the wood pole.

Just one day. He’ll survive. Though it was a dream, he wants to be sure she actually gets food.

How could he have subjected her to this? He had a gut feeling about Christopher the moment they crossed paths back at the bar. As soon as he saw him on the ship, he should have grabbed Lily and ran. He should have warned them all and still ran. They could have found another ship to board. One that wasn’t sailing right for their demise. He slams his hand hard against the barrel and curses to himself.

Want to be added? Just ask! I'd love to add you!

@watchingover-hypegirl @losfacedevil @lightmylove-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @writingcold @jaketlove @mackalah @lexii-nv-c @thetroublegetssoloud71 @em-gvf01 @katiegvf @joshkiszkaenthusiast @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasmommy @objectsinspvce @gvfmarge @heckingfrick @bluemeadows77 @laneygvf @sacredmachine @jordie-gvf-admin @gvfpal @killerqueengvf @jaketlover @jordinlkiszka @alwaysonthemend @hellowgoodbye @anythingforjtk @hi-hi-hello11 @anthemofgvf @gretasfallingsky @songbirds-sweet @wildbluesorbit @klarxtr @stardustsecret @sunandthemoontwinflames @everyglowinthetwilightknows @sinsofstardust @sparrowofthedawnsworld @safarithong @edgingthedarkness @joshylanefleet

If I missed you on the list, please remind me!

[hcgossips]

I know this is huge. But, it's important you, at least, read it, especially the second part of this post, so you have some knowledge and maybe, open your eyes. You might not like the idea and it's OK. But it's important you, at least, understand what EXACTLY HENRY CAVILL AND HIS TEAM ARE DOING.

I'm really sorry for Henry's blind fans, for he really got to the bottom of the well. It's the destruction of a man. But unfortunately, I'll have to say this again, and again and again:

YOU ARE BEING MADE A FOOL AND MANIPULATED BY THE MOST UNSCRUPULOUS AND UNETHICAL PR TEAM AND ACTOR!

Henry Cavill and his team are using neurological and psychological techniques to build his PR damage control strategies, as in an experiment without your consent, what is at least, unethical and which include a) teasing, b) annoying, c) stressing, d) creating distraction and e) confusing (both to gaslight), f) abusing and g) causing distress, exhaustion and harm so as to make you depressed and discouraged to continue exposing him, his m*str*ss and his circus for what it is, while they try to make you accept the promiscuous redneck.

The goal is to create diversion to gaslight and deviate the attention from him to that diversion (in this case, Natalie and her freak show).

IT IS THE MOST UNSCRUPULOUS, UNETHICAL AND DISHONEST PLOT A PR TEAM HAD EVER PUT UP AND THAT AN ACTOR HAD EVER BEEN A PART OF.

SUCH INSISTENCE in putting up this circus and facing this bad publicity with SUCH UNETHICAL, UNSCRUPULOUS, CHEAP MANIPULATIVE AND DISHONEST DAMAGE CONTROL STRATEGIES, while motivating more and more theories, exposing a woman to public execration and destroying his integrity as a sacrifice, SURELY INDICATES there's something he's really ashamed of to hide.

No one gets so involved and determined to take such things further, destroying his integrity if not FOR A VERY, VERY STRONG REASON. And that makes me suspect I was probably right concerning some things.

One of my suspicions was always that he is probably EMOTIONALLY disabled and incapable of facing this bad publicity like any adult. He needed the worst human beings and the most unethical damage control to support and defend him. And, for his lack of discernment, he trusted the worst people to take care of that.

Shy, insecure and anxious, he always gave me the vibe of being emotionally fragile and dependent, incapable of taking care of nor defending himself. He seems to be a very scared boy trapped in the body of a man. If this is not it, there's something very wrong and bad about Henry Cavill's Character.

With time, his acting career and mainly, the escorting activity, gave him more self-confidence and he could deceive his public and hide his insecurities and lack of experience.

If so, that's the kind people would popularly call an idiot. Not an idiot by choice, because he can't help it. It's not his fault. Actually, a more proper word would be puerile. He was just incapable of evolving his emotional skills. Emotionally, he's probably a nine year-old and needs adults to always look for and defend him.

And Natalie is not only the diversion, but the perfect support, for she's used to exposure and has no self respect. The perfect shield and woman who would easily work on his defence if well paid.

But, this diversion wasn't enough and they had to bring esoterism and fake fan pages presenting fake theories and stories, supposedly coming from informants close to the couple. Please! This PR plot is ridiculous, it could even be planned by a 10-year old.

2nd part:

It is clear they hired a specialist in unethical and dishonest manipulation strategies. And, here I put some, according to Noam Chomsky, an American Professor working with Linguistics, Political Activism and (most important) Social Criticism, and one of the founders of Cognitive Science. And he might even be Henry's friend:

1) Distraction in flood: The goal is to create unimportant details, false information as relevant to make the public look the other way and lose focus, avoiding them from realizing what is really going on.

Obs: Each time, this circus has more and more details. The latest ones were the supposed baby (or doll) in the stroller and the fake ring to suggest new details to this circus.

2) Gradual Problem-reaction-solution: A preparation to present a future solution to the problem, bringing it with its false details gradually.

Obs: That's why so many appearances in different premieres, followed by periods of silence filled with theories from all sorts of pages on social media and paid articles of cheap tabloids.

3) The Strategy of Differing: To present an unpopular decision as painfully and necessary to make the public accept it for future applicability, because the public, the mass, always has the naive tendency to expect "things will be better tomorrow". According to Chomsky, this "gives the public time to get used to the idea of a change and accept it with resignation" when the time comes.

Obs: That's why you are having the WRONG impression that Henry is upset and can't stand Natalie. Some fake fan pages are trying to manipulate you to believe that. HE IS STAGING to make you have the wrong impression and think he is being blackmailed, obligated to do it and sacrificing himself, for not having an option. Maybe they intend to announce a breakup OR a wedding. Maybe, they have been married for a very long time and this SS shenanigan was to introduce his m*str*ss to his fans.

4) Talk to the public as if they were children or mentally disabled: Using suggestibility. The tendency will be the public will answer as children or mentally disabled, without critical sense.

Obs: The FO post is clearly an example, where his public was reduced to ignorant and unenlightened. Presenting a PR that has a childish and ridiculous plot is another example. Gives the public the idea it's all a big fat joke.

5) Use emotional appeal much more than thoughts: To cause a short circuit on the individual rational analysis and on critical senses. Also, it can open doors to your unconsciousness to easily establish ideas, thoughts, desires, fear, compulsion and induce behavior.

Obs: THIS IS, AT LEAST, UNETHICAL, NOT TO SAY ABUSIVE, TO USE THESE STRATEGIES ON PEOPLE (IN THIS CASE, HIS FANS AND FOLLOWERS) WITHOUT THEIR CONSENT.

6) Keep the public ignorant and in mediocrity without information: Make the public incapable of knowing and understanding the technologies and methods used to keep them controlled and in slavery. The quality of what is offered has to be the poorest and most mediocre possible up to the point that the ignorance planned for this specific public, makes them unable to achieve higher levels of perception.

Obs: Keep gaslighting the public and pushing the promiscuous and her blow job picture throats down. You have to accept that Henry Cavill is "dating" a m*str*ss and that he has a lot of Character flaws, without criticizing him for his hypocrisy and supposed narcissistic Character.

7) Stimulate the public to be complacent with mediocrity: Promoting in the public's mind that being stupid, vulgar and ignorant is trendy.

Obs: They need to push Natalie Viscuso, a redneck pr**t***te throats down and make her popular and acceptable as Henry Cavill's girlfriend/wife/woman. You have to believe their circus is real.

8) Reinforce the self-blame: Making the individuals (the public) believe they are the only ones guilty for their misery, because of their incapacity, unsufitient efforts and ignorance. This way, instead of reacting to what is presented, people blame and diminish themselves. The goal is to lead them to a depressive state, so they inhibit their actions. "Without action, there's no revolution".

Obs: They need you to believe you are sad for him because you are unenlightened, an inferior delusional being. Henry cant be seen as accountable nor responsible for his stupidity. He can't be criticized for his terrible decisions. It is imperative to protect him from any responsibility, criticism and exposure, from anything that can diminish or jeopardize his image or show the real reason behind this circus. So, they put the blame on his "delusional" fandom and try to sell the idea that this circus happened, not because of his team's mistakes, not because of his lack of discernment, his ingenuity, his stupidity, but because of jealous, crazy, delusional and toxic fans.

9) Know the individuals better than they know themselves: To have a bigger control of and power over these individuals, more than these individuals have over themselves.

Obs: This time, I think they lost it, for it's obvious they don't know his fandom as well as the fandom knows him. They underestimated this fandom and they haven't been able to control the situation, for their unethical and unscrupulous strategies are starting to become more and more obvious. And his image, heading more and more to the bottom of the well.

[satisfactionbroughtmeback]

Danny stared at Ra's. Danny stared at the baby. This entire infant and now the second child of his created without his knowledge or consent.

At least this one was young enough to have not suffered as much damage. He had destroyed the first and largest Lazarus Pit a bit under 2 years ago and this child looked maybe a bit under a year. Or just over a year? He had not had enough time to pay attention with attacks happening during the unit for baby care in high school, and he could now say for certain the flour sack had not prepared him for this. Hopefully Frostbite would be able to help because otherwise he had no idea how he was supposed to figure out how to take care of an extremely liminal child not yet capable of expressing its desires.

"Yeah, no. I came here to close the portals and no, creating a baby me will not give you a weapon that will be able to open them again. How long have you even been planning this? And how did you get the material needed? Did you think I wouldn't be coming back to check my work when I noticed Realms energy that shouldn't be there? Just... what the fuck man."

Ra's glowered furiously. "You stole my pits! You had no right! And I will get them back. If it necessitates the creation of a child to remake them, so be it. You left through similar portals after destroying my property! Do not expect me to believe that they cannot be remade!"

Danny held the child closer. It's eyes were wide but they weren't fussing yet, thankfully, despite the shouting. "Portal creation is an extraordinarily difficult and rare ability! Even if you managed to create an exact clone, which this child clearly is not, they would not have been able to recreate those cesspools you were using."

Ra's expression, disconcertingley, lightened. "Maybe not for a being of your limited intellect, but I have worked to remedy the issue. Young Timothy may have refused to be my heir but I have ample genetic material and something with your abilities and his brilliance will no doubt be able to solve the issue. But further discussion is unnecessary. You are correct that the creature you are holding fell short of expectations but my research has found a way to contain your kind and I will be able to make better versions soon enough. Shadows!"

Phantom darted backwards scanning the surroundings as the ninjas he had seen previously at the locations he had been to destroy the faulty connections to the Infinite Realms filled the room. Ritual markings for bindings lit up the walls and floor and Danny was horrified to see one of the individuals kneel at cult leaders feet only for Ra's to slit the man's throat to power the binding. "What the hell are you doing!"

"Containing something that has caused enormous harm to my organization on a degree almost as destructive as the Detective. Fitting that a combination of the two of you will be used to bring it back to, and greater than, it's previous glory!"

The bindings grew stronger and settled into their final configuration. Phantom settled with eerie stillness in the center. Then the shadows cracked around him.. ̸͚̈"̵̨͖̤̓̆͐H̶̦̳̍̈̑ȧ̴̝d̴̩̀̓ ̸̤͕͖̽̌y̸̹̐̈́o̴̼̎̏̚ŭ̷̮̹͌ ̴̧̰͑̇͝a̵̞͑͛͘c̴̡̦͖̚c̵̡̝̯̈́̏ē̷̡͎̣̂p̵͉̻̻̅͒̄ṱ̸̛̮̿e̸̗̱͐d̵͕͊ ̸̟̬̬̋l̷͖̜̹͊́o̴͉̚s̶̲͇͔̓̄͒ȉ̴̭̑̓ͅn̸̯̮̣̅͗͘g̶̢͖̼̐̓̊ ̵̤̙̚ț̷́h̴̪̦̓é̸̪ ̵̘̻̋̋h̶̡̼͉͆ǫ̴̰͗́l̴̡̲̚ď̸̺ ̴̪̼̄͒o̷̖͗̋́f̴͓̳͒̑͜ ̵̣͕̠̾̚ţ̸͗͝h̴͈͗̑͑e̵̡̨̻͝ ̷̫̈́͜Ȋ̷͉̭ͅṉ̶̚f̶̖͖͚̐i̴̪̇̉͠ǹ̵̬í̸͉̐ͅt̶̳̭͋̂ȩ̵̘͒̆̄ ̷̪͒R̴̹̠̩̂̃e̵͎̺͑͠a̴̯̱͂͝ļ̴̮́̂̽m̶̼̬͆̿͌s̵͍̓ ̵͚̆́̚w̴̯͛e̸͓͊́ ̴̠̦̏̿̚w̸̟͗̋o̵̮̐̅û̶̡l̷̡̼͍̐̈́ḋ̷͍̖ ̸̛̣̍̆h̴̻́a̸̽̓͝ͅv̶͉͈̊͆e̸̺͊̈́̿ ̸̺͇͔̅͆̿n̷̻̙̬̾͊̾e̵̙͝v̸̖̘̿̏̚ͅḙ̷̙̭̏r̴̬͓̻̉̔̎ ̵̨͉̽̈́̓ͅn̴̢͎̓͋͝e̶͙͒͒ḛ̸̮͒̈��d̷̤̯͋͝͝e̵̺̗͗ͅd̷̠̝̜͆͆ ̶̟̹̂͒̈t̵͇͎͋̆o̵̢̠̗͆͝ ̶̧͎͖̋͂m̵̛͔̟é̶̹̮̈́͐e̶̯͑t̶̩̑̏ ̵̇ͅa̵͎̪͔͝g̷̻͗̉͊a̸̫̐̾͝i̸̗̇ņ̸̮̍ ̶̦͈̖̑̉̿ö̶̞́͝ṇ̶͉̰̔ ̴̢̹̭̓̇͠t̵̼̘̑͒͜h̷͓̻̋ͅe̷͕̾̒̉ ̵̳͇̌M̶̙̦͔̉͌o̵̥͎̤̾r̷̯͗̾̕ͅṫ̸̤̈́̈́ä̶̧̻̹́̇ĺ̸̠̭͌̈́͜ ̸͈͛̚P̶͉̩̗̈́̃͌l̸͔̘͎̀͐͗ă̶̠͈̈̈́n̵̞͉̱͘e̷̘̍.̵̼̟̥̽̂̃ ̵̘̘̿U̵̗͐͠ͅn̴͎̊f̶̛̬͙̃o̵̧͎͓͆r̸̯͕͍͌t̸͙̾̈́̎ͅǘ̶͙͎͉̃́ṉ̷̆ͅa̶̖͍̗̔̈͝t̶̨͈͗ę̴̣̌̒l̸͙̹̓y̶̝̰̺̿̂͂,̵̺͍͊͑̀ ̸̭̹̰̃͊̚y̷̺̭͝ö̴̯͚́ų̵̯̱̔͆͝ ̸̰̯̋͊͌h̸̢̪͖͆ā̶̩̣́v̶̳̼̍̾ͅe̵̯̞͆̔ͅ ̷͙͆͋c̷̢̱̺͂h̸̫̐o̸͍͕̓̋̕s̸̲̞͗̉é̵͓̮̀n̸̢̛̜̑͘ ̵̪̞̃͑t̴̪̽́̚ȏ̸̲͙͖̅ ̴̗͎̏͌c̶̗͊̒a̸͉̿ụ̷̋̊͘s̴̪͌͌̀e̸̯̹̾ ̶̞́̒̀m̷͚̓́̍e̷̢̅̀ ̷̟̿ẖ̶̔͝a̸̢̗̪̾̈́r̵͓̳̳͒̌m̵̘̳͓̀̅ ̴̼̚ä̴͙ͅn̶̰̘͇͝d̸̺̞̍́ ̴̝̅̂͠h̵̙͖̆̈́a̶̼͆̐͝ŕ̸̡̤̳m̵͈͔̰͆̈́̽ ̶̳͇̻̑a̶̮̪̓̈́ ̶̳̬̖̓͆c̶̞̈́͑͑h̶̛̖̣̟̀̾î̵̜̤̘l̶͈̱̉̽d̵̝̜̙͗̌.̵̲̍͝ ̶̝̑Ť̴̫̜̮h̷̗̆͗͂i̵̳̋̈́s̷̹͍̑͊ ̴̹̈͊̓ỉ̶̯͍s̸̫͋̐͗ ̴̝͍̝̆̿͆u̸̼̺̔́̇n̶̮̣̅̏f̶͕̮̪͂̌̈́o̶̳͉̮͒̃r̷͖̥̈͑̄ǵ̵̤̼̿͐ḭ̸̘̥̄̈́̿v̵͓̏a̶̹͑̐́b̸̨̜͊l̸̙̟͕̓ę̶̀̀.̵̨̆"̶͙̅̿̕

Ice crept from the corners of the room and fractures of green light became apparent as Phantom's form warped, child still held safely against what had been his chest before his being had changed into an ever shifting nebula.

̷̧̛̖̗̜͒͋̉̓̒͑̑̄̓̚̚"̷̤͛͌͐͂̐Y̷̗̱̯̞͔̖̱͍̯̜̣͐̉̓͐̾̓͝o̴̡̡̨̝͓͖̭͓̗̣̮̰̞͚̰̺̿͗̐u̷̢̨̡̬̪̞̟̙̯͖͙̘̲̭͕͋͑̋͝ ̴̢̟̺̦̤͍̭̥̥͕̯̩̥̪̮̥͉̒̇̀́̑͘s̶̜͌̇̈́͂͋̆̅͊̃͌̑̚͝͠͠͠a̵̢̻̭̮͓͙̙̗̩͌c̶̨̡̠̤̞͓̥͖̞̗͙͉͆́́̓̐̈́̓̏́͆̄̄ͅŗ̶̜̳̤̠͇̦̰͕̭̼͙͈̟̹̙̪̓͋͗ì̴̡͈͈̀͐͒̈́̋̽̅f̸̠͓͕͕̼̣̦̲̗̙̰̮̱̙̳̏̔̐̃̈́̎̾̈́͜͜͝͝i̵̧̤̠͖̿͐̑̓̾͂̇͒́́̉̎͗͘͝ͅc̸̢̛̬̳̯̀̋̿̓̏̽͛̔̈͂̎ę̵̈́̀͐d̸̙͐͌͗̈́ ̵͗̌͆͑̽̿̑̒͝��̳͗͂̅̕s̵̢̛͕̘̯̹̻̰͍͍̠̆́̈́̆̇̔̌̄̏̿͌̀̆͒̈́̊o̴̦̳̘̝͛̓̆̿m̷̥̠͔̻͙͖̖͕͇͈͙̹͉̅̓̐̋̔͗͋̄͑̓͛͗̊̆̕ͅé̶̢̻̖̲͖̈́̎̓͋̉̆̍̍̅̌͊̎͆͜͝o̶̜̅̋̌̏͑̄̎̐̾̇̓͑͌̓̊̌͘͠n̷̛͚͍̥̘̱̲̘̟̲̉̃̿̇̑̓̿͋̊̐́͆͘̕ë̶̢̻̬̙̖̬̪͇̝͇̘̫̙̬͚̪̪͚́͆̃͋̄̈̃̆̌͛̈̊͛͘͝͠͝͝ ̴̢̡̡̛̠̝̩̼͔̩̰̼̦̘̣͍̠͑͐̀͗̎̽͂͘ȉ̷̞͉̳̳̹̏̄̈́͝͝n̴̢̢̧̧̯͙͍̥̹̺̞̭̱̱̽͊̾̈͒͒̽ͅ ̷̳̣̱̳̟̥̎̄̒̔͛́͒̀̉̓̇̕̚͠͝͝a̶̡̢̙̞͈̹̠̜͓͚̠͈̦̰̓͑̌̓̄̋̊̐͑̉̓̀n̷̢̢̧̡̰͉̙̙̤̺̩̟̲̝̱̽͊̄̏͐͒͋͌̀͆̊̎̚͜ ̸̡̜̙͇͔̣̭̝̞̖̈́̀́͑͝ͅạ̷̢̯̙͍̹̦̳̤̫͙͆̽̂͛̌̿̈́̾͐̒͊͑̌̀̒ṱ̶̪͋t̵̛̛͉̭̳͕͉̟̔͂̍̚͜e̴̛͎̟͕̗̣̣̭̣̱͔͓̰̬̐͂̆̇͆̕m̵̡͙̱͎̬̮̠̾̀̈̇̍͂͗̏̋̀̍̍̕͝͝p̸̢͎̲̗̟̞͌̂̒̉̄͆͘̚t̵̡̗̬̲̞̫͈̜̺͍̫͂̆̋̐̑̌͊͊͠ ̶̛͚̜͚̯͔̼̼̍͒̓̓̾́̍̈́͗͌̈́́̄̓̍̕ṫ̵̞̋̈̓̅͆̏̾̓͐͑̓́̑̚͘ö̶̯̤̜̘́̚ ̵̧̮͉͇̦̤͔̠͉̺̹̝͈̝͙̖͐̈́͒͊͆́̎͒̾̒̚͠͠c̶̜̝͙͍͙͍͈̬͍̔̔͜ḩ̴͙̬͈̪͈̻͙̻̯̭̲͍̻̤̞͎͎̌͋͂̉̅̓̐̓̀͋͠a̶͉͙͍͈̼͔͎͇̫̫̭̝̪̒̂͝i̶̧̛̠͉̳͎̣͐͐̓̄̓͊̎̓̚͝ņ̸̡̡̛̼͉̲͇̗̄͌̃͗́͆̒̎̋̌̕͘͝ ̵̢̘̼͓̤͕͔̦͍̱̞̝͎̮̬̥̠̈́̏̈́̾͂̚̕m̵̢̧̜̤̦͒̈̈́̅͒̌̓͒̓͜ȩ̴̨̢͚̥̘͉̲͉̙͇̮̳̰̦̱̔͜ ̷̛̼̪̮͉̰̰́̋̋̈̍̆̈̽͗̕a̵̩͓̯̤̼͉̰̦͍͔̻͔͋́͒̾̒͒̂ń̴̻̩̳̙̼̝̄̊̃͒̇͆ͅḑ̶̢̢̛͍̞͉̘̬̜͕̪̟͉̲̬̼̥̟͗̔͊͋̄̂͊̾̍̂́̿̃͘͝ ̶̳͉̬͍̮͓̟̹͌̃̽̾̀̏̑͛̈͝î̵̝̣̝̼̠̱̅͋͘̚͝t̶̢̰̲̼̩̬͕̗̘̺̑̏͂̆͐͂̄͂̚͝ ̷̼̄̂͗̆̉͂̿͊̉̓̈̑͆͂͋̚w̴̘̮̲͎̝͇̠̗̫͎͓̣̙͋̄͒̔́̏́̈́̈́̓̔̂̉̿͒͘͝ͅȁ̷̧̢̡͔̼͍̺̱͈͉͚̹͉̈́̓͑͂̑̓́͂̅͗̿̌͝ͅs̴̨̛͎̭̦̯̜̻͔͔̈́̓͋̆̇͗̃̽͑̅́̚ͅ ̷͎͕̲̤͔̬͖͎̙̎̓͋p̵͖̃̆̂̔͋̎̏͌͠͝ǫ̸̧̰͚̰͍̗̺̞̣̒͊͛̉̀͋̃̄͆̓̐͑͑͝͝i̶̢̼̱͙̱̘̘̠̣͚̙͙͙̤̙͕̻͍͊̂͌n̴̢̻̰̜͇͚̝̂̏͜͜͜ẗ̸̡͓̰͔͍͈͔͙̦͖̩́̽ļ̸̧̢̛̻̣͖̤̃͋̀͋̇e̸̡͍̰̹̯̱̯̫̹̼̹͍͗͆͒̚ș̷̊̀̽͒̌̋͂̔͛́͌͂̾s̷̀̓́͂́̉͑͋́̃́͘͜ͅ��̦͔̘ͅ!̴͍̜̤͎̯̠̥͙̀̈̿̿̈́̽̊͝"̵̭̻͑̉͑

Phantom's voice could no longer be considered human. It crackled like electricity. Like ice breaking. Like the sun as it burned.

"̴̥̞̘̠͉̠̬̞̗̻̝̫̥̘͔̟̣̪̫͈̘̟͈̯̺̞̎͋̐̌̽͗̓̽̀̕͝I̵̡̨̧̪̗̳̬̠̫̱͍̝̬̝̗̥̗͕̯͇͆̏͑̈́ ̶̝̥͕͔̫̪̳̥̜̠̘̫̹͇̋w̸̧̮̣̙͚͓̦͖͙̘̼͉͔̼̜̭̗̣͉̲̜͈̘͊̈̈̓́͊̔̕͜͜ͅi̵̢̢̲̼̭͙͙̥̪͔̣̭̥̤̤̠̯̩̭̗̭̠̳̘̤͙̇̃̒̏͜ͅͅl̴̡̡̢̳̘̖̟̻̥̲̤̼̬̫̺͎̣̗̭͉̩͍̱̞̼̈͊̒͂̑̐̽̂͗̍̈̐̚͘͜͜͠ľ̵̛͇͙̭̪͍̱̬̒̈̓̔͗̏̐̈́̎̋̈́́̓͐̽̈̄̅͘͘̕̕͝͝͝͝͠ ̸̡̡̠̼̤̯͙̳̣̤̼̰̗̣͗̽͊̓̑̾̈͂̐̾̅̚͘͠b̵̨̨̡̛̫͕̮̘̣̺̳̖̠̜̻̠̗̘̖̭̯̳͙̫̱̪̱̺̥̟͙̻̗̲̓̌̓̆̀́́̿͒̾͋̋́̽̊̀͌̈́̒̅̆̓͛̊͗̃͂̚͝͝͠͝͝ͅȩ̷̧͉͍̼͉̙̘͓̯̻̻̣̤̣̩̗̹̬̙̪̺̼͊̓͋́̈̊̑̒͛̔̾̐͑̊̂̕̕͜͝͠͝͝ ̷̛̮̠̜̼̌͌̏̀͐͛́̌̊̉̅́̈̓̏͝͠b̴̛͇̮͈̥̥̣̯̫̻̞̙̟̼̹̞̈́͂̅̍͛͑̆̅̆̂̄̈͛̅̄͌̂̂͜͝͝͠͠ͅą̴̛͍̳̰̰̩͓͇͕̳̠̭̠̜̦͂̊͊̏͐̀̓̇͝ĉ̵̠̰̣͈̘̰̞͈͎̙̖̖̰̬̬̪͐̈́̾͆͋͂̊̂̀̍̈́̏k̴̡̨͉̪͔͎̼̳̖͈̥̝̺̟̝̭̩̮̣̳̼̻̮̹͗̈́̔́̿͛̂͐̓̒̊͝͝͝͠.̶̢̨̫͚͔͖̩͚̖̱̱̣͓̳͖̗̞͎̬̳̬͒"̵̢̢̛̙̦̝̘̣̳̖̤̯͖̜͖̙͓͖̤̹̹̖̎͛̽̇͊́̊̒̏̀̀͊̑̌̈̌̅͐̒̄͛͌̒̀͒͋́̐̑̈́̕͜͝͝ͅ

A portal opened behind him and the ritual shattered, room breaking around it.

The portal closed leaving nothing but rubble behind.

Project R au except Danny is not the clone.

Instead Danny gets Ras Al Ghuls attention after overhearing that the baby in the tube was made from a bunch of "Robins/detectives" and a little of Phantom himself and looks the guy in the eye before using his intangibility to grab the baby-still not breaking eye contact- and saying, "Mine now." before disappearing.

Danny comes home and explains the situation to his sister and parents and they welcome the new baby into the family with open arms. When asked why they took dna from Danny, Jack immediately jumped in with, "Because we're Fentons!" As if that was all the reason needed.

Elsewhere Ras tells the bats about the clonenapping, conveniently leaving out the part about Phantom also being one of the babys dads. The bats go a little crazy trying to find out where thier baby is and why some no name villian (cause thats what they believe he is due to what little media coverage Amity Park has on him) wants with thier baby.

Then they learn about the ghost thing and then the research. At first they didn't believe it because they had dealt with ghosts before and they were nothing like that. But the more they looked the more they realized these weren't the kind of ghosts they were used to...

[yeah-imfine]

Remembering that time, my exes mom, who I was never friends with on any social media, went creeping on my insta and ended up seeing something she didn't like. Instead of being a normal stalker and just gossiping behind my back, she decided to message me personally. Apparently, you're still not allowed to air out previous disappointments. My intention wasn't to call him out as this happened 2 years ago, almost 4 years now, and I had left out any identifying information. It was simply a vague text that I had received as a response on Valentinesday from my now engaged ex, whom I had since cut complete contact with. I was simply leaving myself a reminder as to what not to put up with in the future. And how terribly disappointing that day was for me. It showed there was never any intention of seeing me on that day even though we had made plans. He wasn't even going to message me to let me know he wouldn't be showing up. I ended up reaching out after it got dark to see what was going on. All I did was post the response I had received that day. Now, I never did share the backstory; how I found out months later he had cheated on me, multiple times, and the reason he didn't have gas to come down was because he was driving around the tacobell-wench. I think the worst part of this whole story is that he did actually show up after midnight the next day, and I immediately started "showing my appreciation," ...

Y'ALL, WHEN I TELL YOU I COULD TASTE THE FRESH CONDOM!

I questioned him about it, and of course, he lied by saying it was only lube. How did I know he was lying? His roommate and I got to talking, and she casually brought up that he was with TBSLUT. She was taken aback that I didn't know they were hanging out. She had actually caught them hooking up, but he had her convinced that we were in an open relationship and that I didn't want to know when he was messing around. So the roommate was even more upset that she was not only lied to but that he was actually blatantly cheating on me in front of her. After that, I knew I had to see what else he was hiding, so YES, I LOOKED THROUGH THE PHONE. With my heart racing and stomach sinking I found tacobell bitches lips wrapped around my man's pole. The picture was saved as a message to himself through facebook. I looked at the date the picture was taken and had ever so hauntingly confirmed what he really was doing, or rather, who he was doing on Feb 14th.

THIS ISNT QUITE OVER YET!

I also found a lot more, not only was there confirmation that my boyfriend of 7 months had been cheating on me for the duration of our relationship with a couple different women but that he also secretly recorded his hookups with others including a recording of myself that I was not aware of. I wanted to throw up. I then came across all these pictures of older women walking around target, he would take a close up of their asses. These women had to be 60 to 80 years old. I realized this had to of been when he was working for target. He would apparently just go around taking pictures of the shoppers without their knowledge. SIDENOTE: I brought that up later in our last fight where he asked me to, "Stop shaming my kink" However, THERE NEEDS TO BE CONSENT FOR A "KINK" TO BE VALID. It disturbs me even more to know that he is NOW working as a resident assistant at an assisted living facility; where he helps take care of mostly elderly residents. Just to solidify my concern, I saw a post of his requesting spank material to masturbate to AT WORK!

[crazyk-imagine]

Married Off to a Beast?! (Or Troll)

Pairing: King George x Fem!reader Characters: Charlotte, Fem!reader, King George, Adolphus (briefly mentioned) Warnings: A memoriable scene, fluff, Charlotte doesn’t approve of running away, George is a simp, Reader and George are enamored with each other, Charlotte is a hypocrite, George regrets nothing, reader knows she can’t resist him now, reader showing skin O:O Word Count: 1,356

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk back and forth in front of the wall. You take a deep breath and step closer. "Charlotte help me." 

"No," she shakes her head, wanting little to no part in your escape. 

You spin around to look at her, your body visible for anyone to see if they walk down this path to the garden. "Your brother married me off without my consent, you will help me." 

She huffs, scratching the side of her head. Out of the two of them (her and her brother), she's always had a harder time saying no to you. 

"Fine." 

George watches as you call for her assistance and decides to walk further down. Neither of noticed him, not until he cleared his throat. “Hello, My Lady.” 

You glance over your shoulder to find a charming man standing a few feet away. 

He turns to your cousin. “My Lady.” 

Her eye twitches, you know it did; you didn’t have to look at her to know. “Are you in need of assistance of some kind?” 

“Uh, I am quite fine, thank you.” You return to your mission. “You can go back inside and wait with all the other gawkers.” 

Charlotte whispers your name. She understands your feelings about the situation but there is a better way to address someone. 

"I… will. What are you doing?" 

You huff, “nothing.” 

“You’re doing something.” 

You internally groan, not wanting to berate some man for something he had no control over. “I am not.” 

“You are.” 

“I am not.” 

“You are.” 

“I am not.” 

“You are!” 

You jump down from your place and spin around to face him. "If you must know, I am being shipped off into a marriage I did not give my consent to and one I had no prior knowledge of, therefore I am leaving before it can happen." 

"Oh," his brows shot up in surprise. 

“Yes, so I am currently trying to find the best way to climb over this damned garden wall so that I may live my life the way I choose to.” 

He mutters a few things, trying to understand this new information he’s been given. “Whatever for?” 

"For the love of-" She mutters, hearing the wheels turning in your head. 

"I believe he may be a beast.” 

"He isn't," she assures you. 

"How do you know? I mean, do you know what he looks like?" 

She rolls her eyes, knowing you’ve been on edge since... well, since you were informed of your future role. 

“You think he is a beast?” 

“Or a troll.” 

“Uh, who are we discussing.” 

You furrow your brows, “no one who concerns you.” You study the wall, sighing to yourself. “The King. Only because no one will speak of him. No one. So, he can only be a beast or a troll if that’s the case.” 

“Understood.” 

Charlotte shakes her head, lowering it so George doesn’t see the disappointment on her face. 

“If I grab there,” you point to an ideal spot. “You can assist me by lifting me up.” 

“One question. You do not like beasts or trolls? What he looks like matters?” 

You shrug, “I do not care what he looks like. I care about my sanity… and the not knowing. That, that is what I do not like. I do not like the not knowing. Now come here and help me.” You gesture for him to come closer. “She will not help me. You grab here,” you hold your waist, “and lift me.” 

“You want me to lift you over the wall so you may escape?” 

“That is what I said, is it not.” 

You shake your head, mumbling to yourself, “it’s as if he isn’t listening.” 

“Won’t people notice you are missing?” 

“Her brother will make her take my place, I’m sure.” 

“What?” Charlotte nearly screeches. 

“I have little care to worry about that. Now, if you please. I just need a little assistance from a more cooperative audience. Make haste.” 

“I have absolutely no intention of helping you.” 

You’re baffled. You step off the wall and march towards him. “Do you not see I am a lady in distress. You refuse to help me? Again, a lady in distress.” 

“I refuse when that lady in distress is trying to go over a wall so that she does not have to marry someone I think you'll find rather appealing." 

You furrow your brows, "and why's that?" 

"Because I am... his majesty." 

You take a step back, realizing the many errors you’ve made leading up to now. 

“Hello,” he says your name. 

"Oh, no," your cousin mutters. She takes a step closer, pulling you towards her. "Be quiet and bow." 

You start to apologize. “I am deeply s…” 

And then your training (from when you were a young girl) kicks in and you bow, "My King." 

"No, no. Just George." 

"Your majesty." 

"Not your majesty, George." 

"Your-" 

Your cousin rolls her eyes and sneaks away (not wanting to listen to you two anymore). She’s off to find her brother. Not to mention the fact that she needs to hide from her betrothed as well… which explains why she willingly followed you.

"George." 

"You-" 

"George." 

"Y-" 

"George." 

"Your-" 

"I mean, yes your majesty to you, just George… For you, I will be your George, I like that," he smiles. 

“I- I need you to accept my apology. You see, if I had known-” 

“You would have what? Not told me you were trying to escape?” 

“Yes- wait no, I mean…” You huff, “I do apologize your majesty.” 

“George… Your George. The “King” situation towers over us and I was hoping as my wife, I could be just George to you. I mean, that was of course, before I found out that you do not want to be married to me.” 

You furrow your brows, “I did not say that.” 

“You did.” 

“No.” 

“Many times, in fact.” 

You purse your lips in anger, knowing he’s right. “I do not know you.” 

He raises his arms, “I do not know you either… other than finding out… how terrible you are at climbing a wall.” 

You scoff, “you try climbing in this,” you wave to your outfit and lift the skirts of your dress, showing him your ankles. “These garments and shoes. They’re terrible, but if I don’t want to hurt myself, I must.” 

His constant stare worries you. 

“What?” 

“I- No one told me you’d be this beautiful. Perhaps, you’re too beautiful to marry me. People will talk… given I’m a troll.” 

“I believe I said beast.” 

He chuckles. 

Your face twists as if you’re in pain but only thinking of your future marriage. “Your majesty.” 

“George.” 

“George. I- I still do not know you.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Everything.” 

“Ev- fine.” He gives you information to help ease you into knowing more about him and potentially help your future marriage. 

“It sounds like you’re bragging.” 

He chuckles, “another to know about me is that… I am- well, nervous about marrying a girl I’m only just meeting minutes before our wedding. Only, I cannot show it and climb over a wall because I am the king of Britian and Ireland and that would, cause a scandal. But I promise you, I am neither a troll, nor a beast. Just your George.” 

The corners of your lips twitch. 

Charlotte’s voice interrupts you two. “My brother is on his way, so we must leave now.” 

“I-” 

“I have one question.” 

“Yes?” 

“Have you decided whether you wish to marry me? Or would you prefer to go over the wall?” 

You gulp. 

“As much as I would love to hear your answer, I have to go because I believe there are some anxious guards who think I’ve been kidnapped.” He grabs your hand and whispers your name as he places a kiss upon it. “I hope to see you in there.” 

You watch as he walks away. “Have you decided? Because there will be a scandal one way or another.” 

“I-” you take a deep breath. “Come with me, you impatient brat.” 

“I am not a brat.” 

“You are.” 

“Am not.”

[hagoftheholler]

Since somebody decided to come into my ask box whining that I'm using a "much more important issue as leverage to demand people care about other bullshit", allow me to give y'all some educational content regarding Indigenous women/two-spirited folk, the history of taking their children away and forced sterilization of Indigenous women/two-spirited folk.

Residential schools were set up by both the Canadian and American governments, and administered by churches. They were used to take Indigenous children from their families to be raised by white Christians as a means to "kill the Indian and save the man". In other words: they wanted Indigenous children dead or abiding by white, Christian standards. If these children did anything "too native", they were punished harshly. They weren't even allowed to speak their native languages without being punished.

The parents of these children had no choice but to give up their children, because they could face prison time or death if they resisted. Many Indigenous children never made it back home, or died trying to find their way back home. The last residential school closed in 1996. Just to give ya an idea on exactly how long ago that is: it is the same year Pokemon debuted.

The Canadian residential school sites are being searched for unmarked graves of Indigenous children, and thousands of these deceased children have been found. Here is a link to a 45 minute long documentary in which a woman talks with her auntie about her experiences living at a residential school.

That wasn't enough, though, because Indigenous women/two-spirited folk were forcibly sterilized for decades without prior knowledge or consent. The reasoning behind these forced sterilizations were based around eugenics and racism. This continued the genocide that has been going on for centuries.

Moving on to what is happening today, the ICWA or Indian Child Welfare Act was established to protect Indigenous children from being displaced from their tribes. It helps ensure that if Indigenous children cannot stay with their parents or extended family, they will be placed in a qualified home and stay connected to their tribe. ICWA is now being targeted by the government, because they think they should have more say in what happens to Indigenous children. This is just continuing the cultural genocide of Indigenous people. Here is a petition for protecting the ICWA. Here is a linktree that has various links on the ICWA and what is currently happening.

Yes, this situation is just as important as roe v wade. I stand by my statement that if you were outraged by the overturning of roe v wade, then you should be equally as outraged by this. Because while Indigenous and other POC were telling us that the overturning of roe v wade was very possible and that we needed to pay attention, many (white) people were twiddling their thumbs thinking "oh, they're overreacting, roe v wade has been established for so long, they would never overturn it". Well, it happened, and now the government is going after Indigenous children for the some of the same reasons they went after roe v wade.

[mc-tums-fog]

Oh hell yeah, more analysis. The Freudian point I didn't even consider (there goes the usage of my psych degreee lmaoo) but I absolutely see it within the context of the film as a tool for masculinity and the different types to it (and the fact that its a phallic object. Freud can't keep getting away with this of making me recognize sexual nature/objects within the everyday world who does bro think he is).

Theres also the points of Quigley being more caring to women within the film, wanting to have clear consent with Cora, lightheartedly joking about trying on the dress. Things that are not 'typical for men' during that time period. He's very clearly comfortable in his masculinity and isn't afraid of it being tarnished by another man. He knows who he is.

Elliott is very much fragile. He has to show off his knowledge, such as claiming to know the American culture: the men there, the guns (raising my eyebrows cause once again could fuel the homoerotic subtext). And knowing about their native tribes within America how they don't have certain words within their language (how tf would you know anyway), not knowing farming, or "land ownership" (all reeks of arrogance). Or even simple tasks like showing off the food he makes. He's very insecure, so he overcompensates. This proves to be his downfall. He wrongfully assumes that Quigley would be on the same side, and that's how he dies. By wrongfully assuming that Quigley wouldn't know how to use that gun.

Elliott would also do this to his own men. Ordering them around, only partially giving credit to their skills but not enough for them to surpass him in any way. Bro is more fragile than a box that has glass in it. The movie definitely has more of an angle with showcasing these two types of masculinities.

You also make a good point in how Quigley's reaction could be seen as a man violently rejecting another man's advances. Elliott has never invited another man for dinner in his house. It's a candle lit dinner where Elliott is trying to get to know him more. Elliott speaks to him with a more soft spoken tone. When Quigley wants to know the true intentions of him being there, you can see Elliott watching him with intent and, at first, carefully treading the waters of the subject, by being logical (making comparisons to their cultures), having an emotional vulnerability (telling about his parents dying, which he focuses more on his mom, so there's something to be said there on having a greater connection to his mom. And also literally the only time he shows any connection with a woman, who was family). And then finally making the proposition. When he's rejected, he's very flustered and disoriented. He tries to take control of the situation without his mens help. Then, once he's thrown out again, you can see him trying to regain back any sense of control by forcing his men to be the one to do it (looking very embarrassed as he does).

It plays into that fragile masculinity lens the movie is going for, but I could also see this as someone who is gay but closeted to a degree. He took out an ad looking for a man (which I know was a thing back then for people wanting to find love) under the guise of needing a marksman. He tried opening up but was rejected, so he went back to the persona of being a 'straight tough guy'

Anyway love this add on, I love film and analyzing it

Alright screw it, decided to speak my truth, and actually share my opinion/headcanon I had on Hans Gruber and Elliott Marston but on a separate post because it's long and deserves its own post

TL;DR I think Hans and Elliott are homosexuals, atp it's an analysis on film that I started writing at 4 a.m and finished at 6 am after being conked out at 7 p.m due to low blood so you don't have to agree obviously (also did not have to put this on this side blog but I don't need my main followers to see me crashout but if I decide to share it on there that’ll be between me and God)

So I think there can be a few things when it comes to if a character is homosexual

Details within the story

Performance of the actor

The creators' use of narrative devices/personal background thats embedded within the movie

To start off I think I've seen enough Alan Rickman movies to get a feel of how he did his performances and to me there are roles he did where the characters are obviously attracted to women, such as Sheriff of Nottingham, his portrayal of Rasputin and Sinclair Bryant. These three examples have significant parts of the plot, if not the driving force of how these characters are attracted to women.

I point this out because typically, within film, the average audience (at least more likely from an American viewpoint), are likely to assume that a character is straight because it's the 'norm'. American society runs with the idea that heterosexual is the typical and the default, when really this can be considered a headcanon to the viewer unless the creators put within the work that the character outright states or shows how the men like women. Which these three have done.

TO BE FAIR, Elliott Marston and Hans Gruber don't show one way or the other that point to either sexuality so you COULD argue that it still goes either way.

But given within the other points I brought up as well as still the consideration of how the performance plays a part, I think the lack of definite statements adds to the argument that they are homsexuals.

So I will say for AR performance real quick he's clearly showcased he was comfortable in portraying men who weren't fully straight with the prime example (that ive only seen of this tbf), is Dark Harbour. And even though that role came out after these two, there's still the likelihood that he would've been comfortable portraying this type of role in the past. I'll circle back to his performances once I talk more about the other points but just stating this as a heads up.

Even with how there's no concrete/outright showcasing of Hans and Elliott's sexuality, I think there still would have been ample opportunities for the filmmakers to show heterosexuality within the two in some way especially since the late 80s-90s films there's a lot that showcased heterosexuality/heteronormativity.

But there were also films that either intentionally or unintentionally showcased homosexuality. A case could be Top Gun, which idk much about from the filmmakers standpoint but general audiences I think they could see how it was very homoerotic with the dude bros hanging out (my mom who was born in the 60s recognizes the homoeroticness of it) or how Val Kilmer recognized, either as a joke or not i dont know the guy, how homosexual it was. A more definitive case is Joel Schumacher, a gay man that directed The Lost Boys which still had the protag like a girl but included subtext (to me its just text) of homosexuality within the film between the protag and one of the antags. And Batman Forever, which could have a gay reading for the plot, especially for the Riddler.

Related to that, there is a stereotype embedded within a narrative device of making the villians gay, more so to be harmful for an agenda (gay = bad) like making the villian Joker flamboyant to be in contrast of the hero, Batman. And Jokers obsession with Batman. But they are still embedded within the character regardless of the creators original intent (cause now the prime example with Batman and Joker people and creators have recognized this queer (as in odd) relationship and have made it queer (as in gay)).

And I think, as a queer person, I'd like to be able to reclaim that for myself but I know not everyone part of the LGBTQ community would and they don't have to. Also nowadays gay creators have reclaimed this (think like N.D Stevenson creator of Nimona and the new She-Ra) or might have had an input in creating villians, intentionally or not (like there was an assisted character designer for Scar thats a gay animator cant remember his name atm)

But this narrative device could be used to showcase how opposite the antagonist and protagonist are.

In the case for Die Hard, John McClane is a 'family man' (pretty dogshit at it tbh), who loves his wife and kids. At the start of the film he reeks of toxic masculinity, trying to be overbearing, and the movie showcases this 'masculinity' through means such as getting his hands dirty getting into gunfights/fights, being all sweaty and wearing a tank top, a real guys guy for the time of the film but someone you root for so you associate the traits with being good, even when he recognizes these can be faults.

So you have Hans Gruber to serve as a contrast to him. We dont know his relationship status, but nothing points to him being taken. He's refined in his looks, mannerisms, they're calculated. He reads magazines, is into mens fashion, and also has knowledge of american culture like Western films. Things that could be typical for men but again from a narrative standpoint these are traits more in contrast with John (besides the cowboys really but I have a reason as to why I point this out specifically).

These two are shown to be opposite to show the audience who you should be rooting for: The American cop that just wants to have a life of 'normalcy' with his wife and kids and be home for Christmas vs The German criminal, a 'deviant' from society that wants to get rich for Christmas.

When putting into that perspective, it may seem obvious to make one heterosexual and one homosexual and from the time period of the late 80s, guess which one was persecuted for being a 'deviant'.

But sure still nothing concrete, John being a family man was part of the plot it's the whole driving force but for Hans his driving force is to get money why would they need to include him liking a woman when it's not part of it.

Okay then the same thing can said for his brother, Simon Gruber in Die Hard With a Vengeance. They did not need to write his brother with a girlfriend where they include a scene in the ending where she pounces on top of him and they basically rip each other's clothes off. They did not need to include that because Simon at the end of the day is also doing the same thing as his brother, getting rich by Christmas. But they did.

And even at a point of the movie Simon and John recognize how much they hated Hans cause he was an asshole. There's contextual evidence that Simon did not care for his brother most of the time and always try to show how Simon is one upping Hans in his work (going after higher targets, getting twice the amount of money, having his plan nearly work, even having a better american accent with a fully thought out performance), so the way that the story could show that Simon is 'better than Hans' is being openly attracted to women because being a man you are at your best when 'attracted to women' (in the context of the 90s).

So when you have that added context, the case for Hans being homosexual could add up. There is also how Hans interacts with men and women. AR did make it a point for Hans to be respectful towards Holly (we stand a feminist standing on business to show respect to women in fiction and thereby women in real life). And reluctantly him being courteous to the pregnant woman wanting to be comfortable before he was going to blow up the building anyway.

Which again - not enough interactions with women to say his one way or the other, but the interactions he has with men is much more since he's surrounded by them. AND I think those could say enough. Like checking out Takagi's suit, calling John "cowboy," doesn't smile or laugh around his men besides to Theo, who he seems to genuinely enjoy his company. These are deliberate acting choices that could be related to the script, but some I have to raise my eyebrow at (lovingly).

Because taking into consideration of his future roles at the time, like Sheriff of Nottingham, where he improvised the line "and bring a friend" to the woman when saying she needs to be in his room by 10:45. He made the choice to make the Sheriff intensely heterosexual.

So, the same points can be applicable for Elliott Marston. Quigley, an American man who opposes racism who gets the girl in the end, battles against an Australian man who is racist and goes against Quigley. Same narrative structure as Die Hard. At the time of the 90s, if you want people to root for one and oppose the other, just add sexuality into it. When looking at Elliott and his interactions, he barely interacts with the women, which his men do bring to the ranch. But you never see Elliott with any women. The background has some men by some women, but Elliott is by himself without one. He'll banter with his men and has an immediate liking to Quigley and the American culture (which you could argue he just seems him as a tool but bro invites him for dinner and the other men argue about how they are barely shown this kind of treatment. Also, he fully laughs and smiles with Quigley but barely shows a crack of a smile with his men. Like come on.).

There's also the performance AR has for this like he does for Hans, having Elliott be refined and elegant in his mannerisms compared to the brute and rugged nature of Quigley.

So, yeah, that's just my thought. And I say in the previous post that I think I would've gotten jumped (and still might) for this opinion more so cause there's plenty of x Reader fics between these two characters that have the reader be female more so than gender neutral or even male. And many women thirsting over AR in general. Which, nothing wrong with that, obviously, but I fear about the lack of room for discussion that could be have when analyzing these two performances in a queer lens.

AND then you have the more historical context of cowboys being homosexuals. In films, it's more showcased as something associated with heterosexual men, but I think many queer people know or acknowledge that there's evidence for cowboys in the old west to be gay.

This could also add further context of Hans Gruber knowing westerns. John knows westerns in the heterosexual lens (knowing which man rides of into the sunset with a particular woman) while Hans knows westerns in the homosexual lens (easily listing off the men in the westerns).

Anyway, that's it for me. I've crashed out enough on here. I'm going to crash out again by going back to sleep.

[yankpop]

Yandere BTS: you refuse to obey them (Hyung line)

All copyrights belong to @yankpop (aka me) so do not post/translate my works on any other platforms without my consent/knowledge.

Check more: Masterlist.

Female reader

WARNINGS: Manipulation; degradation; toxic/yandere relationships; implied kidnapping; violence. 

AN: Hope you guys like it💖

-

Jin

Jin is very much set on the typical stereotype of women and men. Keeping that in mind, you’re no one to refuse his wishes. It doesn’t matter how insignificant or small it is, but Jin does not take it lightly. He’s the man in the relationship, he knows better.

The only thing you should do is to nod your head and accomply. 

But since you wanted the other way around, then it’s also you who faces punishments. A slap or two is usually enough to put you back on track, but Jin is not afraid of more intense punishments, if you need such incentive. 

“Do not talk back to me! Have you forgotten of your place in this house? Don’t make me do something I'll regret.” 

Suga

Actions have consequences. 

That’s the motto that Yoongi follows. Everytime you choose to disobey Yoongi, it comes with a price. The consequences come in various forms depending on the situation, whether it’s not allowing you to leave the house for a few days, removing your phone from you, or even threatening your loved ones. 

The more serious your defiance is, the bigger the punishment is. Yoongi is not one to physically hurt you into obedience, instead preferring to keep his calm and making you suffer by taking away your privileges. 

“Now, now. You either do as I say or you can say goodbye to your phone. Permanently. So, what’s it gonna be?” 

JHope

Hoseok has a very short temper when you start refusing to comply with his wishes. First, he tries to make you understand why he’s right and you’re wrong but that tactic soon flies out of the window once he realizes how stubborn you really are. 

And trust me, it’s not nice to see the usually cheerful Hoseok turn into a berating vicious man. He’ll yell the most awful things, completely breaking you off and then throwing you into a dark lonely room for several days.

When he finally emerges, he’s the smiling and loving guy again, but only if you finally give in and do exactly as he says. Otherwise, he’s not afraid of taking your punishment into a whole new level. 

“You much of a bitch can you be? You’re so stupid sometimes. I don’t care if you like this or not, but you will do exactly what I say. If not, then you can’t even imagine what I have reserved for you.” 

RM

Namjoon is the voice of logic. Or so he tries to convince you by using the most logical and reasonable explanations. He only wants the best for you and that includes listening to him, cause he’s your boyfriend. No one else knows you better than him, that’s for sure. No one else will ever treat you so good as him, then why do you have to act up and try to self-sabotage what you have.

All of this is explained in such a calm and soothing way by an incredibly rational Namjoon, that you feel like you’re acting completely crazy. In the end, you’re the one who apologizes and comes through with whatever he wants.  

“If you have a brain, then why not use it? Sometimes, i swear you’re too dumb for this world. If you try to think rationally, you’ll see that I’m right. I’m always right.” 

(Maknae Line)

-

TAGS:

@mwitsmejk

[soskonoha]

﹙✿﹚ ⩋ adoration for ᯇ tobirama ໑

꒰ 💭 ִֶָ b4 read — i don't care if you don't like him, i just want to talk about him !

[ ⁠♡ ] : i apologise for any spelling mistakes, i am dyslexic

꒰୨ 𝘀hort 𝘁houghts ୧꒱

✿ didn't Ino say he made the womens bath houses safe? like, correct me if I am wrong, but to my knowledge he invented a seal just for that, that's pretty fucking neat

✿ this fandom's view is so fanon on him, it's either cold bastard man or racist !! and neither one is true

✿ once saw a theory that he was amazing in leadership but bad in "selling himself"/putting himself out there, and I can't stop thinking of it ever since

✿ he built so much things, that's so sexy of him

✿ i wish he had more screen time, he is such an interesting hokage, and probably worked more than hashirama anyway

✿ i love how orochimaru said the edo tensei isn't hard to learn as if he didn't spend years studying it alongside other forbidden jutsus

✿ the scar vs paint debate will never fade away but i am convinced those red stripes on him are simply just paint, kishimoto draws scars differently

꒰୨ 𝗹ong 𝘁houghts ୧꒱

★ so many people say that him creating the chunnin exams was a horrible idea and completely goes against his wishes/ideologies that children shouldn't die on the battle field... which is incorrect. if you remember children cannot enter the chunin exams without the permission of their master/teacher, who is a jonin. as well as the consent of all three members of their team, and they have to be genin already in order to enter. they have months to prepare - incase their teacher tells them -. the chunnin exams is more of a 'are you sure you want to be a chunin? this is what it takes, it's nothing like being a genin'.. they also have to be approved by the hokage/kage in order to participate. so, these exams are rather to prepare kids on how real missions are like. they can always give up and leave the exams so they don't need to participate. we also cannot be sure how the exams looked like while he and hashirama were the hokages. we can clearly see it's different in boruto as well, so it's safe to assume that these exams change pretty often.

★ i find the theory that kakashi's dad is tobirama's son so interesting and i would love to learn about it if it was canon !! but he probably had no children at all... like we know of all of the hokages family but him.. hashirama had children for sure because we have tsunade, minato has naruto, tsunade didnt have any due to trauma of losing dan, sarutobi had asuma for a son and konohamaru for a grandchild.. tobirama probably worked until he died

★ i hate the idea that he is a cold person.. he is very emotional? he jokes around and is fond of people around him.. his humour is sarcastic and dry, he is passionate about konoha, he made a whole system because he didn't want any child to die the way his seven year old brothers did, he takes care of hashirama, complimented both naruto and minato, he protected sasuke during the war.. which a lot of people seem to forget? there is also more than just one panel of him smiling and showing other emotions... he is logical, but he doesn't push away his emotions, he just doesn't show them the way other characters do.. him being cold is just a very fanon view, he is just more cautious and has more boundaries

★ the view that he is racist is also very fanon.. like, first of all, they are all japanese?- and you can change out the word for clanist, but it still won't be correct. he doesn't really hate the uchihas, he hates madara because he traumatised him, which is fair. that man not only made hashirama almost kill him but also almost convinced him to commit suicide even if they weren't close, even if they were on a battle field. of course he will be nervous of what the sharingan and love can drive uchihas to do. tobirama isn't a perfect character, but he isn't horrible either. he is very interesting if you pay attention to him. i think a lot of hate just comes from uchiha obsessed naruto fans ? idk tho, but he even made the uchiha clan be the police force because not only were they qualified for it but to show respect to them after having a talk with hashirama (this is canon).. when he says 'uchiha evil' he is talking about the sharingan.. which is caused by trauma relating to anger.

★ tbh i like the idea that tobirama and naruto could be related.. like, it make sense the uzumaki and senju clans are distant cousins and often married between clans.. like, it is not certain wether the two are actually related or not, but it would be pretty cool in my opinion, would also mean tsunade and naruto are related which would make naruto reminding her of kawaki more emotional

★ the amount of things this man invented is so attractive!!! like half of them could definitely murder you but it is still so attractive like imagine how hard he must have worked!!! however i wonder what made him create edo tensei? maybe the loss of his brothers who he just wanted to apologise to? or did he just want advice from someone dead, like sasuke? its canon that hashirama knew of it and was against it, yet he did it anyway, so it really just makes me wonder

★ my favourite thing he invented is probably the academy.. like these kids can just go study for years and decide what the hell they want to be instead of being forced to be a shinobi no matter what thats amazing !! its so cool bc its obvious he and hashirama never had that !!! i also like how he made the idea of genin teams so they aren't just thrown in there to have to figure everything out by themselves... like he is obviously a very emotionally intelligent man/character

★ i once saw someone complain that he doesn't look his age.. but like.. he is a senju isn't he? they are known for looking way younger than their actual age, well aside from their incredible power! what helps me remember this is tsunade.. she uses her own jutsu to look young, but senjus generally look younger.. so he has nice genes not from his father and he could have had his own jutsu? i doubt he did, but if he would have it wouldn't surprise me, he seems to pay attention to his appearance

★ i think a lot of people don't realise that he is an albino? a lot of times I see people debating how he would look like as an uchiha, or to justife senjus being diverse in looks... which is like ok but he is just an albino person, white hair, pale and red eyes.. won't make him any less cool

★ i love his character design so much!!!! its so interesting to me that he generally likes loose comfortable clothing for everyday use (seen from flashbacks) or just long sleeved ones !!.. also !! his fighting/action/mission outfit is so cool too! i love the furr a lot bc it looks really useful !! like it looks amazing but its also great so no one can stab his neck with a kunai in fights.. i wonder if that is on purpose or just coincidental? like ofc it's soft, but no one can suddenly stab your neck if they don't see it

★ love how his fighting style is misleading the enemy !!! like making people think they survived an attack of his but the next thing they know they are being attacked up close.. like, he does it often enough to be a fighting style but never enough to be predictable that is so cool

★ i could talk so much about him but i will end this by saying that he has really pretty eyes,, like y'all see that man? a pretty motherfucker, i love the way his face is drawn a lot, it showcases his personality and aura

[iiraven]

Odyssey

Pairing: Poseidon!Armin x Reader

Genre: romance, smut

Warnings: slow-burn, minor character death, manipulation, stalking, possessiveness, Yandere behaviour, puppy play, piss play, body worship, throne sex, implied age-gap, oral(male receiving), hair pulling, collaring (without consent)

Word count: 9.8K

Synopsis: Armin’s quest for revenge leads him to you, daughter of a merchant and object of his infatuation.

Author’s note: thank you @bubbleteaimagines​ for hosting this collab and allowing me to join <3 Also, thank you @onyxoverride​ for teaching me how to write about pee!

Attack on Titan Masterlist

Present day:

If the river could speak, you wonder what it would say.

In the silence that surrounds the rushing of the water, you’re sure you would hear it. Sometimes, you’re sure you can hear it, but then you remember the dangers of trusting unfamiliar voices. Especially unfamiliar voices in a place like this.

No one goes near the river Shiganshina. And you forget the reasons why much too often.

It’s rocky, slippery, there’s no path to walk on, and the nymphs grow sharp teeth when men approach them, hissing and eyes glowing red. But that’s what makes it perfect for you.

Sasha first mentioned the river months ago, recalling the places on the island that her and her father avoided whenever they went hunting. You hadn’t paid much attention to it until days later, when Connie recounted with round eyes how Floch’s body was found beside the river Shiganshina, mouth full of water and eyes gouged out. You knew you needed to go there yourself.

A pearl necklace is what you stole. And under the guise of going to wash clothes at the well, you made your way south of your small island with only Sasha’s vague instructions and your intuition guiding you.

You could hear the ocean as you walked through the untouched woods, your heart hammering in your chest every time the waves crashed against the island’s cliffs. You weren’t allowed to see the ocean- you weren’t allowed to be around any large body of water, for that matter- but you still knew your island well enough to know that a step in the wrong place could lead you tumbling down the cliff.

You would die before you got to feel the water on your skin and that, you thought, would be the most tragic part.

As your feet began to sink into the muddy ground, you could smell the salty water, and a slight metallic scent behind it that only drew you in closer until you reached a clearing. It was small, crowded with foliage with only a few dead plants on the ground where you could only assume people had attempted to step foot.

And there was the river. It was small, its water emerging from underground before the tide pushed it to the edge of the island- to a waterfall. So loud that it could drown out any noise, any screams. You shivered. For a moment, you just stood back and watched. The water was was green, but so clear that you could still see the fish swimming beside the floating objects. Coins, silver, small statues, and whatever else hopefuls had tried to offer. You pulled out your own offering and whispered a short prayer before throwing the necklace in.

It could have been your imagination, but the water calmed. It was quieter. And, like that, you felt as if the river had opened up its arms to you. Strong arms that you have to be cautious not to spend too long within lest you get trapped.

Thankfully, you’ve learned to read the signs. You know when the river wants you to leave, when it wants you to keep your distance, when it wants to keep you close, and even when it wants you to bathe. Those are the special moments. It’s rare the river is calm enough for you to dip your naked body into, but surrounded by the cool water, you feel like you could stay their forever.

If the river could speak now, however, you’re sure it would tell you to fuck off.

Either that or it would tell you to come back when you have something more to offer its god than a single golden bead from your grandmother’s necklace. Only three are left on the thin string, though you think you might keep the last one to honour her death. After that, you’ll have to go back to offering coins and whatever other trinkets that will keep the god of this river sedated long enough for you to dip your feet into the cool water, maybe take a sip, and then return home before your father realises where you’ve been, much less where you’ve been unchaperoned.

The latter is hardly your fault. Sasha and Connie are too scared to step foot in the Shiganshina forest, let alone the river itself. And you can’t trust anyone else to accompany you, especially the servants whose tongue could slip at the drop of a golden coin. Your father would never forgive you for spending time in the territory of the God of the Ocean or- as he liked to call Armin- the destroyer of seas. And thus, being left alone seems to be the only way.

Well, that’s unless Mr Arlert decides to join you.

The owner of the stable who appeared on the island out of nowhere is the last person anyone would expect to be brave enough to spend time at the river Shiganshina. He mostly keeps to himself, only ever seen tending to his horses or immersed in scrolls of literature and poetry. And yet, he’s here almost as often as you are, almost as vulnerable as you are.

Despite his solitary nature, Mr Arlert has been quick to make himself adored. Mothers swoon over his charm, scholars constantly indulge in his curiosity, and sailors are fascinated by his knowledge of the world and its oceans. He’s no warrior, and already in his late twenties, but he’s still without a doubt one of the most eligible bachelors on Paradis. And, yet, to any marriage proposal sent his way, he declines with a polite “A husband is not what I am fated to become”. Even Annie Leonhardt- whose father Mr Arlert would constantly visit- had her heart broken. But no one blames Mr Arlert, of course, who was there to comfort Annie, to make her realise that she just needs to be a better person, that’s all. It’s not his fault her heart broke, Mr Arlert reassured.

Thinking about it now, you’re amongst the handful of women who haven’t been offered to the tall blond. And with that comes a sigh of relief as you drag your fingers through the water.

It’s not like you dislike him- the opposite, actually- but being with Mr Arlert is like taking the hand of an invisible man in the dark and letting him guide you.

His words constantly have your thoughts spiralling in directions that they shouldn’t be. Thoughts about leaving the island, thoughts about going to the ocean, thoughts about becoming a priestess. Thoughts you aren’t allowed to have.

You fate is bound to the home you were born in, a thick rope tied to your ankle, only letting you go as far as this very river. And Mr Arlert sits beside that rope, a knife in his hand, blue eyes staring into your soul, waiting. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for. But what you’re sure of is that to be taken away from the life you know of is an inconceivable fantasy. The unknown is a dangerous thing, after all.

The small island of Paradis may lie far away from the rest of the world, but their core values remain the same. A woman must grow up to either serve her father or her husband. Your fate has already been decided for you. And, frankly, if it means not having to share a bed with an old man who marries you for your dowry, you’re very happy with taking care of your father until the day that he’ll be put into the ground.

But then there’s always the third option. A woman who serves neither her father nor her husband will serve her god. 

You had never been given that option by your god-hating kin. Simply suggesting a future as priestess would earn you at least five lashes, so why… why can’t you stop thinking about it? Your instincts have you blame Mr Arlert, but you know that your fixation began before he arrived on the island; all he’s done is vocalise your thoughts.

As a gust of wind blows the leaves and the salt from the sea gently caresses your cheek, you wonder who your god would be. Do you resonate with Pieck’s beauty, or Zeke’s creativity? Maybe. But as you look into your reflection, you know that your god is no other than Armin, the god of the ocean. The fates must think this is hilarious, but you just want to scream.

“It’s getting late. I wouldn’t want your father worrying about you.”

You jump at the sudden voice, turning around at the familiar face, leaning against a tree with a gentle smile.

“Thank you, Mr Arlert.”

His footsteps are so gentle, as are his apologies.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve come to invade your space, after all.”

“It’s not my space, it’s Armin’s. The god is only letting me stay here.”

He smiles a knowing smile, one that you would usually find patronising on any other man. But Armin is charming, too charming for you ever to think that of him. “I suppose you’re right.”

He comes to sit down beside you, taking his usual place at your right- the voice of reason. It’s quiet for a moment, before you remember.

“Lemnos,” you say.

The blond smiles. “I’m not named after a place.”

And you roll your eyes, as you’ve done every time he’s given you a useless hint. “That hardly narrows it down.”

“Well, I can’t make it too easy of a game.”

“You can’t make it impossible either!”

“It seems like I already have.” And you’re not sure if you want to wipe the smirk off his face or just stare at it.

“What about Tree?”

Arlert laughs. “No, but you have one guess left.”

“What?!” You sit up straight, eyes wide. Now you really want to wipe the smirk off his face.

“You have seven guesses, and in the eleven months we’ve known each other, you’ve used up six.” His explanation is calm and rational enough for you to almost convince yourself that the rule has been there from the start.

“Wait- wait. I never knew about this!”

“I thought everyone did. It’s traditional wager rules.” Mr Arlert’s tone is sorry, but you know he’s everything but. So, you cross your arms and pout, hoping that staring him down might at least give you the smallest chance of winning your wager.

He leans forward, mirthful and you feel a shiver go down your spine. “What is it, little puppy, sulking because you’re afraid you can’t win?”

You flush at the implication of your loss- “No- no not at all- no”- before registering his actual words are and only then can you feel the heat rise and you’re sure it’s doing you no service. “I know I can win!”

“I know you can too,” he assures you.

You frown. “Are you being sarcastic?”

It’s his turn to flush. “No, not at all! You can win- the water god favours you, after all.”

And although you shrug, his words stick. They always do.

Before you go home, you pass by Armin’s temple and place at the foot of his statue the remainder of your grandmother’s necklace.

A year ago:

Amrin knew how fickle the gods were and he thought that this knowledge made him impervious to those feelings. He watched how Eren jumped from woman to woman daily, how Reiner picked and chose his battles without a care, how every single fixation a deity would have never lasted more than a year. He thought of how stupid it was to spend a life of immortality indulging in such temporary pleasures. And he looked down on his kin for that very reason.

It was only after one argument too many that Armin finally let it slip. The god of the sea was usually quiet, offering soft smiles, casual conversation, and minimal conflict. That was his only rule: keeps quiet before the gods of the pantheon as he takes his anger out on the humans below. But that day, he forgot about his rule.

Maybe it was the years of silence that caused the Eathshaker’s outburst, or maybe it was just Eren’s bored expression as he talked about his mistresses in front of Mikasa. Armin couldn’t take it. Gathered at a marble table beside all the Olympians, he scowled and told them how stupid they all were.

“Don’t you realise? You’re all wasting your immortality by being so idiotic, so fickle! Everything you touch becomes a temporary pleasure, ruined by your inability to act like real gods.”

He should have stopped; he really should have stopped. But the crack in the glass bridge had been there for years, and now the shards of glass were dropping down into the sea. “You might as well be human!”

The room went silent. Eyes went wide, and mouths gaped, but the gods opted for silence. Every deity wanted to speak up, maybe even draw their swords, but they were more intelligent than Armin was in that moment, which was more unusual than one might think. He had never snapped so violently before. Armin may have been aggressive, but he knew his place. Knew when to be docile. Now, he felt like he could crumble Olympus itself with his rage and bury the Olympians with their dead parents.

The king of the gods, however, leaned forward. His emerald eyes were unmoving, devoid of emotion though his lips tilted into a monstrous grin.

“You’re just as fickle as the rest of us, brother,” was all Eren said.

When Armin lunged at him, knocking the fine glass off the table, it was Mikasa who pinned him down. Arms locked behind his back, all Armin could do was watch as mirth flooded Eren’s face, and the god of the sky laughed. The bastard laughed and laughed and licked the small wound on his hand from a shard of glass. It healed immediately. Even their pain was temporary.

And like he had been doing for the past millennia, Armin found solice in his only rule: if he couldn’t take out his rage on his brother, Armin would take out his frustration elsewhere.

His first instinct was to find a woman, but the thought of seeking out temporary pleasure, from a mistress no less, reminded him too much of Eren. So, he descended to earth, trident in one hand as the other gripped the reigns of his horse and they rode for three days and three nights. That’s all it took for the god of the sea to find what he was looking for- someone deserving of his hatred.

There are many humans like the merchant. But most of their hatred is silent. And when it’s not, blasphemy often falls upon deaf ears. The merchant just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time when his drunk rambles led him up on the deck screaming out Armin’s name like it was venom in his throat, until he could scream no more. He was drunk, but the merchant’s hatred for the god of the sea did not cease when he was sober.

And when Armin heard his name, the god wasted no time calling forth a storm to sink the merchant’s ship. He took care to ensure that the arrogant man watched each and every one of his men be swallowed whole, their bodies only resurfacing lifeless, before the storm calmed.

It took five days for the merchant to swim back to his island.

He never returned to the sea.

As the weeks passed, he relocated his home to help him stay away from any body of water and made sure that his family followed suit.

But Armin followed, and the merchant’s father died weeks later with saltwater water found in his lungs.  

Unfortunately, that was not enough to sedate the god of the sea’s need for vengeance. Fortunately, it was not enough to sedate the merchant’s hatred either. The hubris didn’t leave him. Instead, it just grew and grew and grew until the merchant considered himself more of a god than Armin would ever be.

“Oh, oh.” Armin couldn’t help but smile as he watched the man urinate before his temple. “This is perfect, so perfect.”

Armin was going to show his uncaring brother how different he was from the rest of the miserable Olympians. As he stood above the island of Paradis, golden hair blowing in the ocean wind, the god vowed to begin his Odyssey. An eternal Odyssey. A journey that would last longer than the ten fleeting years he had with the Greek hero- a journey that would last longer than the universe itself.

And he knew exactly where to begin. A man’s most valuable possession: his child.

It was only after your grandfather’s death that Armin noticed you. When he first began watching the merchant’s household, under the guise of either a guest or a bird, he had been surprised to learn that the blasphemous man had no wife, nor children. Armin only realised his mistake one night, when you came to lay a blanket on the drunk man’s barely conscious body. The merchant had pulled you towards him, muttering apologies and you had wrinkled your nose before offering him a soft smile. “It’s okay, papa”.

A daughter sheltered from the world, it seemed.

The god had initially thought you were one of the servants. There were only two in the house, and your tasks were all similar. But as Armin began to watch you closer, he saw how you did have a life outside your home with friends, interests, men- a life your father was blissfully unaware of.

The merchant hardly left home- playing the part of the sick man- and you took care of him- playing the part of your dead mother- in a happy sort of agreement.

You didn’t speak about it to your friends, but you detested your doting role. Armin could tell. The way you wrinkled your nose every time your father walked through the door, the eye-roll when you were given a load of laundry. The god couldn’t help by laugh at how pathetic the merchant was that not even his only daughter- his lifeline- cared for him. The merchant didn’t know, of course. Your fake smiles and gentle hands were enough to deceive him, keep him sane. But Armin was going to break that pattern.

The merchant didn’t deserve the care of a woman. He didn’t deserve anything. So, Armin was going to take you away from him.

His initial plan was to kill you. Simple, efficient, quick. And then he thought of dumping your body somewhere far so that the search for you would break your father’s spirit even more. He hesitated, though, he wasn’t sure why, but he did. And then, you changed your routine.

After meeting up with the two individuals you called your friends at the Sunday market- instead of going back home- you carried on walking. Through the houses on the outskirts and into the dense trees, you almost stung your sandal-clad feet twice before reaching a river. The river had no god of itself, but you still threw in an offering and muttered. Stupid human. And then you sat beside the river and- nothing. Your routine was boring, obviously a ritual to let you escape from reality. Yet, he couldn’t tear away from you. The woman at the river Shiganshina was a different one than the woman who served her father. The one here relaxed her shoulders, cursed at the world around her, smiled- albeit randomly but it was real. He decided there that he would kill you tomorrow.

But when, the next day, you led him back to the river, Armin was lost in you again. Lost in your honestly, lost in your need to escape. He wanted to see more, he needed to see more. Metaphorically, of course. But when you began undressing, the pleated robes dropping to reveal soft skin and tender curves, the god of the sea realised that he wouldn’t mind literally seeing more of you. Armin had been with goddesses and nymphs and, hell, even Aphrodite herself, but never had he been this awestruck. He had to hold himself back. Even though the way you were bathing made it seem like you were worshipping him, water dripping from your body, wet hair hiding the swell of your breasts. Armin’s breath stuttered. He couldn’t reveal himself. He couldn’t.

So, he watched, and watched. Trying desperately to take in everything you were from a distance. Armin didn’t count the number of times he visited you before finally decided that killing you was no longer an option. He told himself that his change of mind was progressive. A practical choice to draw out his revenge into the most painful and convoluted Odyssey. To do that, he couldn’t kill you. No. He was going to take you for himself. Armin was going to turn the daughter of the merchant into a servant of the one God he detested.

Putting the thought into your mind was pathetically easy. As you walked past his temple on your way home, an echo of laughter emerged from the marble building. You paused for only a moment, but it was enough for Armin to catch the look in your eyes. It was one of longing, mixed with a curiosity that threatened to pull you in. But you seemed to catch yourself in the act and hastened yourself home.

And so, Armin’s true Odyssey began. 

For his journey to progress, he had to meet you. Not as a bird or a horse or through glances as a guest. He had to meet you properly. This was the only way to draw you in, he told himself. The only way for you to submit completely and willingly.

Armin could have forced you too your knees, but he had to ensure that your father watched has his daughter chose Armin over him. And chose Armin you would. Every piece was in perfect place. The fates seemed to have woven a beautiful cloth of gold for the god of the sea.

What he failed to realise was that the cloth was in fact a snare- a trap which he will never be able to escape from.

Eleven months ago:

A short gust of wind had the pears in your thin basket tumbling down onto the rocky ground. You rushed after the fruit, crouching down to pick it up when a shadow appeared, and a hand reached out to pick it up for you. The sandal-clad feet were pale- paler than anyone living on this warm island and the robes a fine, ironed white. He somehow seemed to glow brighter than his clothes, and you purposefully let your fingers graze his as you picked up the fruit.

“Thank you,” you said, standing up.

You were hoping that he wouldn’t catch your staring. But even if he did, you couldn’t tear your eyes off him. He was lean, taller than you but not intimidatingly so and his eyes were like oceans that you found yourself staring into as he introduced himself as Mr Arlert. Just Mr Arlert. The new owner of the stables with a voice so soft, it took a moment before you remembered to introduce yourself.

“Y/N. And thank you, again.” It isn’t appropriate for an unmarried woman to be talking to a man on her own, but you couldn’t help but ask. “Do you have a first name Mr Arlert?”

His smile was contagious. “I do. But names are a powerful thing. I’m afraid I can’t give mine up freely.”

“Oh.” You scrunched your nose. “Can I pay for it then?”

You were dead serious, but the blond man laughed. How can someone look so pretty when they laugh? You wondered.

“I’m serious! I can pay you; name your price.”

Mr Arlert looked down at you, blue eyes twinkling. “I’ll think about it.”

“So, is that a no?”

“It’s a no, for now. One day I’ll tell you my name.”

He was sweet, so sweet, but you still gave him a sceptical frown, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowing. Mr Arlert in turn gave you a sorry look before his eyes lit up and he pulled out from his brown satchel a small book of yellowed pages and a dusty blue cover, the gold embossing hardly visible. You nose only scrunched further.

“My name is in this story. It’s mentioned few times, but it’s an important one,” he said to you.

You took the book and flipped through the worn pages, immediately recognising the tale of Aphrodite and Ares. The lovers.

Why the challenge? You wanted to ask Mr Arlert but you knew the answer you your get would be too cryptic. Besides, you think, I like a challenge.

“How long do I have?” You asked instead.

“A year and a day.”

“And what will I get if I figure it out?”

At this, he pondered. But it seemed feigned, and you wondered, just for a split second, if the man had planned this from the beginning. But why? This was another one of your questions that went unanswered that day. Because before you could say anything more, Mr Arlert leaned forward and said, “Your reward will be divine”. And he walked away.

Nine months ago:

Life was well after Armin arrived. There was no other way to put it. Your father was confining himself to his room more often than before, and you were finding more opportunities to visit the river, leave the house and, eventually, you met the handsome baker’s son. Jean was kind, a gentleman, but not the arrogant type like most the men your age. You didn’t even feel too much guilt when you thought that spending a future with Jean- taking care of him and his home- wouldn’t be too bad. It’s quite pathetic that your life had been reduced to not being “too bad”, but the idea of marrying Jean sat on the comfortable line between reality and fantasy. Safety.

And then you were visited at the river.

Mr Arlert wasn’t even surprised to find you there, he had just smiled and sat beside you as you clenched your fists and forced yourself to smile back at him. You had always enjoyed him, his company, his challenges, but now it was like he was provoking you. The river Shiganshina was your river, your special place away from the hellscape that was the town. And now Mr Arlert had brought himself and his ordinary life into it.

You pulled your sandals back on, the crease in your brow evident. He clearly couldn’t get the hint. But before you could stand up, he spoke, and you paused.

“I wish I could jump in and swim away,” he said.

Curiosity got the best of you, as it often did with the man.

“The waterfall would kill you.”

The awkward laugh again. It had an effect on you so that your jaw couldn’t help but unclench. “If it means that I get to touch a waterfall, I wouldn’t mind, you know?”

You knew. You knew exactly what he meant. But you didn’t tell him.

“Didn’t take you as the suicidal type,” you said.

“I might get saved, who knows.”

“If you’re counting on me to jump after you, I’m letting you know I won’t.”

“I know,” he laughed. “I was thinking of more of a divine rescue.”

You finally looked at him, and- unsurprisingly- his blue eyes were glued to yours. What was surprising was his unwavering tone, his straight face. Mr Arlert was being serious. Why was he opening up to you this suddenly? So far, your interactions had consisted of him staring, you trying to guess his name, and him continuing to stare. In that order. You knew there was more to him, but it’s only now that you found yourself wanting to seek that out.

“You think Armin would save you?” You didn’t miss Arlert’s smile.

“I’m hoping I’ve gained his favour- done enough for him to allow me freedom via waterfall.”

It was your turn to smile. “You probably have, You’re at the temple often.”

“Thank you.” He blushed and you quickly pushed down the thought of how cute he looked. Sitting beside you, trousers rolled up and feet in the water, Mr Arlert looked more than cute. He looked like he belonged. You weren’t sure how that made you feel but, in that moment, you didn’t mind him entering your world.

“I think you would also be saved if you jumped into the waterfall,” Mr Arlert said.

You laughed. “Is that your way of saying I’m a nice person?”

“Something like that.” He paused. “I think Armin would appreciate your- uh- honesty. You’re like a priestess.” He laughs nervously at your expression. “You know, they have this personal affinity with the water and such.”

You knew exactly what he meant. How a stranger could read you so perfectly, you weren’t sure. But as you hid your smile between your hands, you wondered whether you were prepared to face the fear of the unknown. Maybe, with Mr Arlert, it would be a bit less unknown.

A few days later, Jean was announced missing. A search party was sent out and even Mr Arlert, on his recently acquired brown horse, couldn’t find him.

Present day:

Armin isn’t sure if he likes playing the part of the nice boy or not. Humans are simple creatures who praise him continuously and, without divine responsibilities, there is no need to take his rage out anywhere. But a god is who he is, and every day, he yearns to be seen as one. To be seen as one by you. He watches as you worship him, but you never look at him- not like you do the statues, or even the small river which you think is your only true connection to the god of the ocean.

You both want more, and you both know that, but you only ever admit it to each other when you sit beside that very river. There, in those moments, Armin feels a bit more like a god. Whenever he’s around you, he feels a bit more like a god.  

He’s told you before, but your perfect honesty has made it easy for him to unravel around you. He wants to unravel around you in other ways, too, and he wants you to unravel around him. Armin can’t count the number of times he’s sat beside you at the riverside and wanted to do nothing more than to kiss those lips of yours, to press the hard cock that he hides inside of you and watch as your eyes roll back, and you call out his name.  

But the God of the Sea is not Eren. Armin will earn you. And he’s very close to doing so. Not Mr Arlert. You have no interest in human men, that much is clear. You yearn for something more powerful. And you’re right. Only a god is worthy enough to stand beside you, lay between your legs, be in your arms. Mr Arlert is simply a means to push you to realising that the god in question is Armin.

In the meantime, he’s been nothing but patient.

It’s only when you come to his door one night, eyes puffy and red, that he lays his hands on you for the first time. He rubs your back as you cry and cry, fat tears refusing stop falling. You tell him about bout your father. About how, since he got better, he’s been refusing to let you out of the house, snapping at every moment and accusing you of being a filthy god-worshipper.

“He s-sai-d- he said we’re ‘gonna move away- said we’re gonna get as far away from the s-sea as possible.” You can hardly speak, though the tears have stopped, your voice still shakes violently. But Armin listens, he holds you close to him and repeats that everything is going to be fine.

You can’t stop thanking him as you leave, and he promises that his door is always open for you. “Whenever you call for me, I’m here,” Armin tells you. “Right beside you, always,” he adds as he watches you walk away.

He’s reached a new chapter of this Odyssey.

Present day:

You suppose your father’s death should have been expected. He was an old man, obviously depressed, and his only lifeline was his daughter who hated him.

You also suppose you should feel guilty. You don’t.

Familiar faces give their condolences and whisper questions of what is to happen to you now. You only pay heed to Sasha and Connie, though, who give you a soft hug before Sasha tells you that her family would be happy to take you in. You reassure her and everyone else that you have a plan, though your best friends are the only ones who seem to believe you.

“I heard Marie has a son who’s single, maybe they can-“

“You’re not actually talking about marriage here are you?”

“Well, the girl is all alone in the world, now! She needs a man to lead her on the right path.”

The old women are wrong, so very wrong. You don’t need a man. You’re fucking sick of men- sick of them all- everything they’ve created and everything they stand for.

What you need is a god.

The head priestess of Armin’s temple in unsurprised when you knock on her door with nothing but a bag and the clothes on your body. Those clothes are burned soon after, along with many of your other things, leaving your old life behind.

She tells you that you’re lucky there’s a place for you. The last priestess left running off with a man, “Which is a cardinal sin”, she makes sure to repeat every-so-often. The head priestess seems to hate men more than you do, sneering whenever Connie comes by.

Sasha and Connie are unsurprisingly shocked at your choice of work and even if they visit almost every day, they always tell you that they miss you. They think you’ve come the temple out of desperation- everyone does- and you let them believe. Because despite cleaning the marble floors or whatever other arduous duty you’ve been given, a smile is never far as you realise that you’re free from man. Indeed, explaining the truth to anyone would be far too difficult.

Well, except one person.

You’ve never missed anyone before. Not with your father keeping you so sheltered for most of your life. But as you push through the Head Priestess’ relentless schedule, you can’t help but miss Mr Arlert. He disappears after your father’s funeral, so you leave him a note at the empty stable with your final guess. You like to think he decided to follow his own path, you also like to think that he too wishes you were beside him, a guide in the unknown.

Present day:

The room is a box of marble, with a throne sat upon a dais at the centre and one fountain at every corner, each one sculped into a horse. The object of your interests, however, is the large bowl of water on the floor in front of the throne.

This is your initiation. You will emerge from this room not as an apprentice, but a Priestess.

You kneel down and lift the pot of clay to your lips. The head priestess kept on repeating how important it is to not put it down until you’re finished. So, you gulp the water down until you can see the image of Armin. You’re the one who selected the pot, with its faded paint depicting Armin and Hange’s fight for patronage of Sina. It’s a powerful image, but when you put the pot down, you come face to face with something very different. Armin is standing in a room-this room, you realise- and crouched down before him is a young woman, looking up in awe. It takes bit longer of a moment for you to realise that the woman is you.

Looking up slowly from the pot, the first thing you see is sandal-clad feet. Golden sandals, just as fine as the robes he wears, draped in perfect waves. The first word you think of to describe him is divine and it’s indeed accurate because-

“Mr Arlert.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

But you know that’s not correct. The man- no, not a man- before you is taller than Mr Arlert, by a foot and a half at least. His muscles are more prominent that the stable boy’s ever were, strong legs visible through the large slit between the layers of fabric draped over the god’s figure. Half of his shoulder-length hair is tied back using a golden pin whilst the rest frames his perfect, perfect face. You can’t help but think that Armin looks nothing like his statues- no medium of art could capture the ocean within his eyes, glowing in the dull light of the room. Then again, the stories didn’t capture the way the god acts either.

“Armin,” you say, this time your voice louder.

Now, you know.

His sad smile is familiar, but there’s something there that never was. “Oh dear,” he says. “I’m afraid you’ve lost out wager.”

Armin can’t help but compare you to a puppy, with large eyes staring up at him from your crouched position and an expression a perfect mix of excitement, curiosity, and shock.

You reach out a hand tentatively, but it hovers in the air between the two of you once you notice Armin’s raised brow. But he doesn’t rebuke you for it. After all, it’s only your first encounter with the god. He can’t expect you to behave perfectly, to adopt the right etiquette- no, he’ll have to train you first. Like he would a baby mutt. The thought makes him smile.

“I’ll accept any consequences, my god,” you say. Your voice sounds so sure of itself, so unlike your usual ramblings, those that Armin could and would listen to for hours. Right now, though, the certainty, it’s laced with desire that sends blood rushing south. You don’t notice. You’re too lost in his eyes to notice anything.

When he places his hand on your chin to hold it up, he can feel you shiver. “Such a perfect little worshipper,” he says. “I couldn’t possibly punish you.”

Armin can swear he sees disappointment in your eyes before he turns around and walks up the dais. The marble of the throne is cold beneath him, but the sight of you looking up at him with such longing is enough to warm him up. Now, Armin is sure you’ve noticed his growing erection because you crawl towards the dais, not yet climbing it, but close enough to see and lick your lips.

“Let me thank you at least, Armin.” He almost groans at the sound of his name. God, he wants to hear you say it over and over.

“Come here.”

And you climb up the dais only to pause before Armin leans forward and grabs your hips. Two lips, as if led by an invisible string, meet. You kiss like you’ve been waiting years for Armin and, in a way, you have. His tongue is inside your mouth quickly and he’s kissing, sucking, letting his teeth gently graze your lips as he revels in the feeling of you. As your bodies lean against each other, you can feel his heart hammering against your own. His chest is stone, but his lips are so soft and your hands find his golden hair. It’s also softer than it looks, and Armin can’t help but let out a moan as you gently tug.

When you pull back, his pupils are blown. “Thank me, then,” Armin says, breathless.

Sitting between his legs, your hand is tiny compared to his cock, and you can’t stop staring at it. Long and somewhat slender, but veiny with a flushed red top- he can see you gulp before you take an experimental lick at him. Armin’s hold on your hair only tightens and you look up at him, doe eyed and seemingly innocent.

“Put it in your mouth, pretty girl,” he says, guiding your head gently. “So obedient- Yes, exactly, just like-ah- just like that.”

But he doesn’t need to push down- no- he lets you set your own pace only because you do it so perfectly, almost as perfect as the wet noises you make. Armin doesn’t have time to be surprised, he’s just able to react fast enough to suppress his own moans so he can hear your wet tongue caress the base of his cock, as your lips create the perfect o-shape to accommodate him. Your drool is everywhere in a matter of seconds- his balls are coated with it, and so is your lap, where the spit seeps through the thin white fabric you call a robe.

“Like a puppy,” he murmurs. And you look up quizzically. “You’re drooling over me like a desperate puppy- a puppy in heat,” he grunts. “You just want to please me, don’t you? ‘S alright, puppy, I’ll let you do that.”

If you could nod your head, you would. Instead, your cheeks burn, and Armin is so lost in the way that you look- not even able to take his entire cock in his mouth- that his hips begin to buck unconsciously. He hits the back of your throat, and you gag at the sudden impact, but he hisses and murmurs “What a good, wet hole. So good, good-”

The earthshaker is afraid that if he speaks any louder, his voice will slur into incomprehensible sultry sounds. But as you struggle to take his cock even deeper into his mouth, he lets out groans that go straight between your own legs. You moan around him, and the reverberations make his head roll back. God, you could stare at him forever. And he would let you.

“Look at me,” he says whenever your eyes go astray. “Look at your god.”

As his hips buck more violently, Armin can feel the pressure in his lower stomach, the impending orgasm and he wants to stop- wants to hold out the way he always has. But he can’t, it’s too much and he just cannot pull out of you. He simply pushes further and further into your tight throat, repeating your name like it’s a blessing. “fuck, puppy, ‘m going to- I’m going to cum down your throat. You want that, do you you’re your god’s cum- ah, fuck, ahhh”-

Pushing your head down to the base, both of his hands at the back of your head, Armin cries out you name and you can feel the warm liquid go down your throat, thick ropes filling up your mouth, some of it dribbling out. Armin reflexively pushes it back in your mouth, ordering you to swallow it all, to show how grateful you are. Of course, you oblige. But before you can even regain your breath, Armin suddenly pulls you off his cock. His pupils are dilated, and he wears an expression- anger? Shock?

“You’re not a virgin,” he hisses, teeth gritting against each other. His breath is frantic, uneven. It’s not a question and you begin to recognise his expression. Rage. “You’ve done this before.”

Fuck.

The God of the sea has his fair share of consorts and mistresses. Some of them virgins- though he never chases them the way Eren does- some of them not, but none have made him cum so fast. He would like to blame it on the year of pining, of restraint, but he knows better. It’s you. You do this him. You make him so wild, so willing, so pliant even. 

In that moment, as he looks your worried face, so desperate to please, he thinks that he’ll never be able to let it go. You’ve consumed Armin and he wants to do nothing more than burn eternally. You must understand that- that you exist as his beacon, that’s where you’ll be your happiest, but those thoughts are too complex for a human. You, in your fragile state, can’t understand. It’s alright, he’ll just have to show you bit by bit that you’re his. But to do so, he must first take on the role he’s familiar with. That of the punisher.

“Who is he?” Armin snaps.

“It was only-“

“Who is he?”

You pause. Memories of nights spent together, huddled close and trying to keep quiet already fading. “Berthrolt Hoover.”

Armin’s shoulders relax, “I see.”

His breathing slowly goes back to normal, and, at the back of your mind, you know you’ve signed the young warrior’s death. But your worry is fleeting as Armin grabs you by the neck and hoists you over his knees, laying you down on your stomach effortlessly. “A priestess who isn’t a virgin?”

You look up as see Armin’s familiar sweet smile, but it’s laced with mirth that makes you forget the Mr Arlert he was before. You cry out at the first slap of his hand on your ass, more out of surprise than pain.

“I don’t think the people of Paradis will be very happy to hear that,” he says. “An unmarried woman giving herself away to a pathetic boy.”

Slap!

“I’m sorry!” you cry out. “It was a mis-”

He slaps you thrice.

“No excuses, dumb little puppy. I’m afraid you’ll have to endure this punishment.” His voice is deceptively soft, as if he is actually sorry. And when you look back up at Armin, his face betrays no malice. But it doesn’t show any cruelty either. Instead, there’s a fascination.

Armin has you sprawled across his lap, at his mercy and he is discovering you bit by bit. As a god. His cock twitches and then suddenly he tugs off the fabric of your robes and they disappear.

The way you squirm is half- hearted, and Armin has to laugh. “Embarrassed? Now of all times? I didn’t know you were such a prude. Or is this all just to compensate for the fact that you’re a whore in my temple?”

You shake your head, “I swear, I’ve never belonged to any man!”

Fingers trace the expanse of your naked body, soft enough to send shivers down your spine. “Oh? Really?”

“Yes yes, I swear, ah!” His fingers find your naked ass and they grab onto the flesh, massaging, groping, feeling you. Armin’s other hand rests on top of your head, stroking it gently and you’re so lost in his touch that you almost forget to speak.

“I belong to no man, I never have. Only you. It’s always been you, Armin.”

The god’s eyes widen, and he gently pulls you up from his lap only to seat you on it, upright and, this time, there’s so much more to admire. “You’re right,” he says. Armin captures your lips and this time, it’s longer, rougher. He doesn’t want to pull back, doesn’t want to lose the feeling of your soft lips against his, but his hands have already found your breasts and soon, his tongue joins them. You moan as he begins to lap at your breasts, leaving hickeys and spit in his wake as his finally finds your nipples and begins sucking them like a child as you whine and lean into him.

“You do belong to me,” he finally says, his voice partially muffled as he loses himself in the worship your breasts. “You’ve always belonged to me.”

And you can do nothing more than nod your head as your fingers tangle in Armin’s hair and you’re pulled into another kiss. His hand goes down your body, squeezing every single mound of flesh as if it needs to be touched so that when he finds your cunt, Armin can’t help but smile at how wet you are.

“Already, but I’ve hardly done anything to you?”

What a liar, but you don’t have a chance to tell him before he plunges a finger inside of you. “Oh, puppy, my puppy,” he groans at the contact the same time you moan, pushing your hips against his digits. “You like my fingers like that inside of you?”

“Yes, yes, I do, I really love them- it feels, oh my god, it feels too good!” you grip his shoulders, unable to do anything but desperately buck your hips at the smiling Armin. He knows what he’s doing, he knows that his fingers are giving you just that satisfaction, but it’s still not enough to bring you over the edge.

“Please Armin, please.” You squeeze his shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, tell me, I’ll give it to you- I swear.”

“I want to feel you, all- ah- all of you. I need to feel you inside of me!”

You’re not sure at which moment Armin removes his robes, but as he moves both of your legs so that you’re straddling him, your hands are on his bare, lean chest. The god’s nipples are flushed pink and pert, practically calling to you and you respond by brushing your fingers over them and watching him twitch ever-so-slightly in response. You withhold the urge to take them into your mouth, even as Armin rubs his cock against your cunt, releasing the sweetest of sounds.

He’s already leaking precum and it mixes with your juices so perfectly, his cock being dragged back and forth, only making you gush even more. “So messy,” he mumbles as he uses his tip to spreads your juices across your thighs. At this point, you can practically feel it throbbing, ready to be sheathed inside of you and the whimpers of your desperation echo against the temple walls.

When Armin slips inside of you, simultaneous gasps escape your lips. The god pulls your body closer to his as you throw your head back, stars in your eyes.

“Look,” he whispers. “Look how easily I slip in- it’s- it’s like your cunt is made for me.”

“Armin,” you whisper back. “Armin, Armin- ah- Armin.”

He sinks you down slowly, the stretch hitting every single spot that leaves your legs practically limp. The god is holding you up, whispering his own mantra that you can’t hear over your bliss. Once inside, your eyes look lock with Armin’s and he’s staring at you in a way he’s never done before. You’ve never seen pupils so dilated and the two of you stay like that as if making up for the moments when you should have been connected in this way. An eternity, it seems, the two of you have needed each other.

“I’m your god,” Armin finally says. “I’m your god and- hng ah-” He begins moving you up and down his shaft. “And I’m going to make you cum all over this cock- okay? All over your god’s cock.”

You nod your head pathetically as he lifts your hips and slams them down against his own. He is strong, ruthless in the way he bucks his hips up every time he lifts you from his cock, as if he can’t bare the empty feeling of not having your tight pussy clamped around him. At this relentless pace, you’re sure that the sound of your connecting bodies could penetrate even these marble walls. And yet, you don’t hold back. Thanks and praises spill from your swollen lips and Armin can’t help but lean forward and push his tongue between your mouth, as if he can absorb all of your word. “So good, so good, it’s- uah- I just want more, more of your cock, you fill me up so good!”

Armin can’t deny you. He pushes your thighs to your chest and picks up your entire body to fuck himself. He manoeuvres your body like a toy and as your tongue rolls out and your eyes become glassy, you begin to look like one too. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are incomprehensible, even as Armin attaches his mouth to one of your bouncing tits, you can only squeal.

“Such a good puppy,” he says between kisses. “Letting me use her holes like this. A god using a puppy’s holes- you should be- you should be grateful! Tell me, tell me you’re grateful!”

“I am!” you cry out. “I am grateful!”

“Good girl, good puppygirl.”

When Armin flips you over, you’re sat on his throne and he fucks into you harder, harder than he was doing before, and you swear his moans are louder too. He’s looking down at the movement of your stomach as if hypnotized by the way his cock disappears into you. And, in a way, he is. The fascination of being inside of you- just the idea even- is enough to make him want to cum.

The sudden position has him hitting new spots and the build-up is so fast, you hardly have the time to warn him. “Armin, Armin I’m cum-“

He grabs your face as you release around his cock, body spasming but unable to look away as Armin’s gaze burns through you. “Good girl,” he says. “Show me, show me how you cum. Just like that, just like that.”

He continues to plough his hips into yours and the spasms of your pussy leave him unable to hold back. “Inside of you,” he practically growls. “I’m going to cum inside of you- yes, yes, yes I am puppy. I’m going to cum inside of you and you’re going to show me how you take it yeah?”

You’re too far gone to even register the implications of what he’s saying, but he buries his cock in your warm walls and releases his cum inside of you with a heavy groan. “Just like that, just like that- I’m going to fill you up with my seed, puppy, my puppy.”

Armin feels like he’s emptied his balls- two powerful orgasms which leave his legs shaking violently. And yet, he pulls out of you slowly and stands back up to his full height, cock in front of your face. Almost instinctively, you rub your cheek against it, giving Armin soft kitten licks and he coos at you, stroking your hair. But he doesn’t push, he just holds his cock there and pumps softly as he stares at your fucked out face. Messy, covered in his spit, his hickeys, his bites, his cum- you look perfect, divine. Only one thing is missing. “I’m going to give you everything I have, puppy. And you’re going to take it, okay?” You nod and open your mouth for him and, immediately, a strong stream of pee emerges.

At the bitter taste on your tongue, your eyes roll back, and you spread your legs even wider, a welcome to the mess he is about to make. Armin accepts and angles his cock to release his pee over your chest, then your stomach, and then your already-throbbing cunt. He lifts a foot to rest on the throne and Armin doesn’t think he’s even seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

As if guided by an implicit will, Armin’s foot hovers on top of you and suddenly, he presses against your lower stomach. Your eyes snap back into focus as you whine out for him to wait, wait just a moment “I just had water,” you cry out. “It’s gonna- It’s gonna come out!”

But Armin simply grins. “Let it come out,” he says and presses his foot down harder. “Pee yourself dumb little mutt, be a good puppy for your owner.” The trickle that emerges is involuntary, but Armin’s grin is wider. “Yes, good girl, just like that. Let me see more, let me see more of you.”

The pressure that was holding the bowl of water back broke and you felt the warm liquid against your thighs before you realise what’s happening. Armin practically moans as he watches you whimper and struggle to hold your pee back as it spreads over the throne, the dais, and even Armin himself. He doesn’t stop until you’ve given it all to him.

You expect Armin to disappear. 

You’ve given him everything. His goal is complete, you think, he has nothing more to do with you. But, as he has done many times before, the god surprises you. Armin’s body is heavy against yours when he collapses on top of you, but the weight is comforting. Despite the malaise of urine and cum rubbing against both of your bodies, you wrap your arms around the god of the ocean and hold him close. 

Even as you close your eyes and lean your head back on the marble throne, Armin doesn’t leave you. Even as you open your eyes back up and see blue ones staring back at you, the look he gives you is so familiar and long hair in such unfamiliar disarray that you can’t help but smile.

He doesn’t ask why. Instead, Armin calls forth a stream of warm water from the adjacent fountain to clean the both of you. It feels like a fever dream the way floating droplets caress your bodies, and when Armin stands you up, his hands not leaving you, the perfume that suddenly envelops you is heavenly.

“Can I give you a last kiss, please?” you ask when your robe appears once again. And Armin leans forward to capture your lips, dragging his tongue on your bottom lip as if to taste you.

It doesn’t feel like a final kiss. You’ve had many of them- Jean, Sasha, Berthrold, your father, and even your mother, though you can’t remember it. This kiss is different. It feels less like a kiss and more like a promise, a vow. a shiver runs down your spine. 

“I am your god,” he says and lifts his both of his hands slowly to wrap around your neck. “And you’re my worshipper.” You gasp as a cold sensation spreads around your neck, just below Armin’s fingers. It’s sudden, and heavy and when he removes his hands, yours fly to your neck and there’s a metal band there where there was none before.

“It’s sculpted from Hephaestus’ gold,” Armin says as he strokes his fingers along the metal. But he’s not looking at his gift, instead he looks at you. 

“Armin- I- this is. But why?”

For the first time, he can’t read your expression. But it doesn’t matter. You belong to him. You always have, but now you know. And if it takes time for you to understand, Armin can wait. He’ll wait right beside you, always, always there to guide you.

“This is not the end of my Odyssey. My Odyssey is eternal,” he says before giving you another short kiss and disappearing, the warmth of his lips still present.

The gods might not all be fickle, you think, so you just smile sadly. But the gods are all selfish, so you touch the collar around your neck.

A/N: This is my first ever collab and I was- as still am- a bit insecure about how this story turned out so I appreciate all of your support ❤️. I would also like to apologise to my fellow history nerds for the historical inaccuracies. 

[teddy-yandere]

Yandere Tobio Kageyama Headcanons

⚠️WARNING⚠️ will contain dark themes

A/N = Feel free to request any characters you want. I write for many different fandoms , all you have to do is scroll to the bottom of this post and pick what fandom and character you want me to write for and send me a request. My inbox is always open so feel free to chat with me!! <3

* .:｡✧*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. * * .:｡✧*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. * . *.:｡✧ *ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. *.

• Kageyama is a very possessive Yandere to have. He is also extremely insecure, but will never ever admit it to you. He most likely fell In love with because of how loyal you seemed to be with your friends. You probably have never even talked to Kageyama before. Most likely you are a classmate of his that he had a crush on.

• He would watch you as every single morning it would come to class laughing and talking with your friends. He would also watch how caring you were to them. He wanted you to love him. So he slowly started to show up in the same places you are. Tsukishima would catch on to the fact that Tobio had a minor crush on you and would pick on him for you. One day you were dropping something off to Daichi at the same time that volleyball practice was taking place. ( you were also a first year ). And when you dropped it off Kageyama’s heart literally was pumping so fast as he tried to show of his setting skills to you.

• You noticed and immediately complimented him on it. Poor boy was so happy that he invited you to one of their practice matches . You happily accepted the offer. You were always looking for new friends. Over time you and Kageyama became super close friends. Kiyoko even invited you to become a manager along with Yachi.

• As time went on , Kageyama started to become more and more possessive over you. It got so bad that he would even wait for you outside of you classroom. He would even start to leave you love notes inside your locker for you to find. Whenever you told him that you think you had a stalker, he told you not to worry about and that he will keep you safe. He was thrilled that you came to him to protect you. Because you felt safe around Kageyama, you never declined him when he offered to walk you home. Sometimes after school , he would follow you home ( without your knowledge or consent ) , and spy on you through the window of your house. He tells himself that he I yo does it to protect you and make sure you are safe.

• * Kageyama is also very clingy around you . Like many other yanderes, Kageyama does have a little bit of trauma. He is deadly afraid that you would leave and abandon him ( even though the two of you are not dating yet ). He always gets mad when he find you hanging out with someone that is not him. He will threaten whoever you were hanging out with. He truly means ever single word he said to them. He is not afraid to beat them up after volleyball practice. Kageyama is also not afraid to end someone’s life after they treat you badly. In his eyes , you deserve to be treated like a Prince / Princess. Anyone who treats you anyway below that , needs to go. Kageyama will probably kidnap you after a while.

• * When he does finally kidnap you , he does not want you to be scared. He will comfort you. He absolutely refuses to leave your side for any reason. At night he is cuddling you to sleep whether you like it or not. Sometimes he will force you to sit on his lap while he watches some volleyball games. He would get really happy if you were to fall asleep on his lap. It gives him the chance to carry you to the bed and cuddle up to you without you trying to push him off. Although Kageyama might treat you very well , don’t you dare try to escape that man. He will be furious. It is kind of useless to even try if I am being completely honest with you. This man will track you down in under forty eight hours.

• If he can’t find you then he will get super depressed. He will get so sad that even his volleyball performance starts to get bad.

* .:｡✧*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. * * .:｡✧*ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. * . *.:｡✧ *ﾟ ﾟ･ ✧.｡. *.

Thanks for reading Darling !! <3

Feel free to request any character you want. I write for all genders. If you don’t tell me what gender you want then I will just make it gender nuetural. I write for many different fandoms such as:

• Demon Slayer

• Haikyuu

• Attack on Titan

• My Hero Academia

• Death Note

Have a nice Day / Night ~

[omnivoroussmut]

Playing With Fire- Rowen Fic

Summary: Brian might be eyeing up Monica, but it’s Roman who actually gets to taste one of Verone’s partners

Tags: Roman Pearce/Owen Shaw, Owen Shaw/Carter Verone, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Bondage, Sex Toys, Blindfolds, Gags, Light Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Anal Sex, Daddy Kink

Rating: 18+

           “Rome, we need to get out of here,” Brian hissed to Roman as soon as the door shut behind Carter Verone and Monica. Verone’s henchmen were shoving the detective out a different door as he tried to pull himself together. His stomach was bleeding from the rat’s bits and scratches, but it was the indignation on his face that revealed that his ego had taken the more brutal of beatings in the confrontation.

           “Yeah,” Roman mumbled as he watched the men leave.

           He had seen quite a few torture scenes while on the streets and in prison, but there was something inhumane in using animals in the process. Roman couldn’t care less about the cop, but he could hear the animal squeaking while still trapped in the bucket. Glancing over to it, he didn’t hesitate to nudge it over and was satisfied to see it run away.

           “Roman!” Brian hissed even louder and shoved his shoulder. “We need to tell Bilkins.”

           “Let me get a drink first, man.”

           “We don’t have time!”

           “Fuck off, Brian!” Roman turned on him and growled at his friend. They stared each other down, but he couldn’t care less as he met his friend’s hard eyes. Brian might be used to these things, or maybe not, but this had been too much. When he had been asked to go undercover, he had never thought he’d watch a man be tortured with a damn rat! This was getting out of fucking hand and Roman was man enough to admit he needed a hard drink after witnessing that. “We’ll see him in the morning.”

           “Fine.” Brian clenched his jaw. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

           “I could say the same thing,” Roman mumbled. “Looking at Verone’s woman and all.”

           “She’s not. She’s undercover,” Brian pointed out.

           “Sure, she is.” Roman replied flatly before turning on his heel. He couldn’t be more thankful that Verone had invited them out to a club where grabbing a drink and losing his thoughts would be easy enough. He could hear Brian following him but wasn’t surprised when he split away from Roman to head towards the exit. Clubs had never been his scene, but Roman wasn’t going to let that kill his mood. Verone had already done that.

           Sliding up to the bar, Roman ordered a glass of whiskey and took his time eyeing up as many people as he could. He could still spot several of Verone’s men around the place and assumed that meant the man was still there. Even with that knowledge, Roman didn’t let that ruin him from taking a sip of his drink and plan who he wanted to dance with first.

           “And here I thought you’d leave with your friend, Pearce.”

           God fucking damnit!

           “A full bar and pretty people, why the fuck would I leave while the night’s young?” Roman mumbled into his drink as Verone leaned against the bar next to him. There weren’t enough words to describe how much Roman hated Verone and everything the man stood for. There were evil people out there and Verone was the definition.

           “That so,” Verone hummed. They stood there for a few moments, allowing the club’s noise wash over them as everyone around them gave Verone a small berth. Seemed like most of them knew who he was and didn’t want to test his patience. “Your friend seems to enjoy living on the edge. If I catch him staring at my woman one more time, it’ll be his head.”

           “I’ll let him know,” Roman responded through clenched teeth. Would this bastard ever leave him alone?

           “Now you,” Verone smirked at him. “You’ve shown restraint and I admired that in a man.”

           “That so.”

           “In fact, I think I’m going to reward you.”

           Roman side eyed Verone and had to wonder if he was going to bring over the blonde that had lured the detective to his untimely punishment. However, the other man’s face didn’t reveal anything as he kept his usual smirk on his face and waited for Roman’s answer. Downing his drink, Roman decided he was already in too deep to refuse.

           “Lead the way.”

           Verone looked like the cat that got the cream and canary as he lead Roman to the back of the club once again, and Roman desperately hoped there wasn’t a rat waiting for him. However, they walked past the room they were in earlier and went even further down the hall where the noise of the club ebbed away to reveal gentle jazz music being pumped through. With one last look over his shoulder, Verone opened the door to what looked like a hotel room. Roman wasn’t shocked there were makeshift bedrooms in the back of such a busy club, but what did surprise him was that someone was already on the bed.

           In an extremely compromising position.

           Laid completely on his back was a pale man with sweat shimmering in the low lighting. His wrists were tied together, above his head and connected to the headboard of the bed while his ankles had been tied to his thighs. He was blindfolded with a red, silk tie while a ball gag was shoved between his teeth. Soft whines were the only thing to escape past the gag as the man thrashed on the bed, throwing his head back and forth. Concerned, Roman looked him over and found the cause of his distressed.

           With his legs tied up, they were spread wide to reveal his very obvious erection and the large dildo inside of him. At the base of his cock was a ring and Roman suspected that by the color of the head of his cock, he had been stuck like that for some time. While he struggled in his bonds, it was clear that the strong vibrations from the dildo was driving him crazy and he needed relief badly.

           “Beautiful, isn’t he?” Verone whispered into his ear. Nodding dumbly, Roman couldn’t tear his eyes off the man. Satisfied, Verone chuckled before shutting the door loudly and alerting the man on the bed that someone else was in the room. “Let me introduce you.”

           Verone strode forward with ease, as if the man on the bed wasn’t groaning loudly and begging without words for release. With a faux, gentle smile on his lips, Verone brushed his fingers through the man’s sweat soaked hair and Roman couldn’t help but be fascinated as the man shoved his head closer to Verone. Looked like this was partially consensual then.

           “I’ve got a new person to play with you, Owen. Think you can handle him?” Owen for his part nodded vigorously and tried to thrust his hips up in the air seeking any type of friction. Verone didn’t do anything to help the man and simply kept petting his hair. “His name is Roman Pearce. Go easy on him.”

           Go easy on him? Roman wasn’t the one tied up!

           Glancing between the two, Roman couldn’t figure out what their relationship was. If Owen there was Verone’s fuck-toy, then why was he letting Roman touch him? It was obvious that if anyone dared look at Monica that there would be consequences, so was there a different agreement between Verone and Owen? Not knowing what to think, Roman simply walked closer to the bed when Verone motioned at him.

           As he drew closer, Roman could feel his dick twitch in excitement as he looked over Owen’s body. He was almost like a Greek god by how well defined his body was: strong muscles, legs for days, and looked so pretty all tied up. While Roman wasn’t normally able to experiment too often in the bedroom, what with being in and out of prison, he had to admit that he was far more into this than he admitted.

           “Don’t leave any permanent marks on him,” Verone warned him, pinning him with a hard look. “Other than that, he’s up for almost anything. Ask before doing anything too freaky, though. And don’t touch the ropes. Wouldn’t want him to kill you, now would we?”

           Roman stared at Verone, not knowing if that had been a horrific attempt as a joke or if he was being serious. Before he had a chance to find out, Verone had turned back to Owen and was gently undoing the gag. Spit strings came away as the ball gag was pulled out of the man’s mouth and a loud moan broke the tension.

           “Cart, please,” Owen panted and Roman felt his dick standing at full attention at that voice. Deep, breathy, and British. What more could he ask for?

           “Shh, baby,” Verone continued to brush his fingers through Owen’s hair. “Pearce is going to take care of you.”

           Owen whined in frustration and wiggled on the bed that was ultimately useless. Swallowing thickly, Roman stared down at the man and was tempted to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming or not.

           “He’s all yours, Pearce. Don’t wear him out too much, I want my turn once your done.” Verone narrowed his eyes. “I don’t let just anyone touch what’s mine, so you better appreciate this and stop messing with my guys.”

           “Yeah, I got you.” Roman nodded weakly. He’d do just about anything to get his hands on the beauty spread out on the bed. Seemingly satisfied, Verone nodded and walked past him. As the door shut behind him with a click, Roman could only stare down at the man writhing on the bed below him. How had he gotten into this?

           Leaning down, Roman carefully slipped his own fingers in Owen’s locks and was shocked at how soft his hair was. Owen whimpered and shoved his head into Roman’s hand, just like he did for Verone. Looking him over, Roman was relieved to see no wounds or anything on Owen, but he could see several old scars. A few looked life threatening and others not as much.

           “Do you need me to help you get out of here?” Roman whispered.

           “If you untie me, I will pin you down and won’t let you up until I’ve fucked you dry.” Owen hissed, teeth barred to reveal large canines. Even blindfolded and completely spread out for the taking, Roman knew he didn’t want to take that risk. Flinching back, Roman was shocked at how much venom and conviction the man had put into that threat. How had he switched between a whimpering mess and someone Roman never wanted to get on the wrong side of? “Are you going to fuck me or what?”

           A bit speechless, Roman decided that he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Chucking off his clothes, Roman wasted no time in crawling onto the bed and over Owen’s body. Hovering above him, Roman paused. While it was clear Owen was into all this, he couldn’t help but feel that it was somehow wrong—almost as if he was betraying someone. Sure, he had gotten after Brian for eyeing Monica up, but she was a cop while this was completely different. Owen was just a guy getting his rocks off with someone with questionable scruples. As long as he was up for it, how could Roman deny him?

           “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby boy,” Roman crooned and smiled at the way Owen arched his back.

           “Please, daddy!”

           “Fuck,” Roman moaned. He hadn’t even touched the other yet and he was already hard as a rock. How the flying fuck was Owen able to have this effect on him?! “That’s it baby, who’s your daddy?”

           “You! Please, daddy, make me feel good!”

           “Anything for you baby,” Roman whispered before leaning over Owen and lowering his face closer to his. He was infinitely more handsome this close up and Roman only hesitated for a moment before sealing their lips together. Owen tasted insanely sweet and didn’t hold back in the kiss, giving as good as he got. His tongue tangled with Roman’s in an intricate dance while he nipped slightly at Roman’s lips. Fireworks were going off in Roman’s brain and he never wanted to stop.

           Kneeling between Owen’s legs, Roman let his hands trail up and down his torse, feeling heated skin. Ever touch sent shivers up Owen’s body and he couldn’t believe the affect he was having on the other—it was as if they were made for each other.

           “That’s it baby, let me take care of you.”

           “Need you. Need your cock, daddy,” Owen moaned and threw his head back, revealing his long neck. Taking the opportunity, Roman brushed his lips against the large expanse of skin and sucked at the sweat that had pooled on Owen’s skin. Lavishing kisses all over his neck, Roman had to remind himself not to bite down; he could still hear Verone’s warning about leaving marks. Roman didn’t need to tempt fate by leaving hickies, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

           His hands dipped lower, and he rubbed his palm over one of Owen’s hips as his other hand gave feather-light touches to his cock. While Roman hadn’t been with another man before, he had a vague idea how things would go down and knew what he liked during sex. And by the way Owen was whining, then he must be enjoying himself. With one last nip to his lips, Roman pulled away from Owen and couldn’t help but stare at his flushed cheeks. He wanted to take the blindfold off, but he wasn’t sure of all the rules of the scene. Not wanting to test the waters too much, Roman decided to leave it be, even if he desperately wanted to see the lust in the man’s eyes.

           Roman continued to gently stroke Owen’s cock, he leaned back to view the dildo inside of Owen. His hole was stretched around the large toy and lube was dripping down his thighs, making Roman grateful he wasn’t going in dry. The toy was vibrating so hard, he was shocked it stayed inside of him. Carefully, Roman grabbed the base of the toy and stopped briefly as Owen groaned in pleasure as Roman’s nails scraped against his sensitive skin. Encouraged, Roman began pulling the toy out and was a bit concerned as it kept coming out. By the time the whole thing was out, Owen was left gaping open and Roman surprised at just how much the other could take.

           “Not everything’s about size,” Roman muttered to himself as he shut the toy off and threw it to the side. By now, Owen was a begging mess as his whole clenched on air and his body writhed in anticipation. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby boy.”

           “Daddy, I need you!” Owen pulled on his bonds and arched his back, making a spike of pleasure rush down Roman’s spine. Nobody had every had this kind of affect on him before and he didn’t know he could feel this way.

           Roman took a deep breath before lining his dick up to Owen’s hole and pushed in slowly. The lube eased his way as his dick was enveloped in Owen’s heat, making him feel like they had been made for each other. So lost in the pleasure, Roman had to pause to let himself calm down and not blow his load right then and there. It didn’t help that Owen was trying to shove himself onto Roman’s dick, but only caused Roman to shiver in pure ecstasy.

           “So good, so good,” Roman moaned as he pushed even deeper until he finally bottomed out. Grabbing onto Owen’s hips for stability, Roman could feel every part of Owen tense up. “Scream my name, baby.”

           Without another word, Roman pulled out until only the head of his dick was inside of Owen and thrusted back in roughly. He set a fast pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room as Owen screaming in pleasure. With every thrust, Roman could feel himself climbing that mountain of bliss as the other clenched around him and making him see spots of black. Every single one of his nerve endings was set ablaze and Roman would knew he’d be chasing this high for as long as he lived.

           Below him, Owen let out a constant stream of noise, practically begging Roman to let him cum. His wrists were rubbed raw by the ropes, but that only seemed to spur him closer to his own orgasm. His cock was left neglected and dribbling pre-cum down itself and over the cock-ring. Reaching between them, Roman fisted Owen roughly and stroked him in time with his thrusts.

           “Daddy! Please, please I need to cum!”

           “Not yet, baby. Not yet.” Roman grunted and sped up his thrusts.

           “Fuck!”  

           The whole bed was shaking at that point and Roman wondered if they had more time if they could break it. But for now, he was satisfied leaving Owen unable to walk the next day.

           So lost in the pleasure of it all, his orgasm slammed into him out of nowhere. Hips thrusting sporadically, Roman scrambled to pull the cock-ring off of Owen.

           “Cum for me, baby boy.” Roman gasped.

           Owen screamed.

           White filled Roman’s vision as burst after burst of unimaginable pleasure coursed through him. All the while, he didn’t dare stop thrusting inside of Owen and coating the man with his cum. Finally, he slowed until he was shoved all the way inside of the other and could feel himself going limp. Panting, Roman opened his eyes to see Owen in a similar state underneath him.

           His belly was splattered with cum as he laid there completely boneless with small noises falling from his lips. The tears the blindfold hadn’t absorbed ran down his rosy cheeks and Roman didn’t hesitate to kiss his already abused lips. Unlike before, this kiss was much less rushed and Roman could feel how blissed out Owen truly was. Slow and full of unexpressed feelings, Roman wished that moment would never end.

           That was, until he heard the door open.

           “Look at that,” Verone chuckled behind him. “Not many can satisfy him.”

           Roman didn’t bother hiding his glare as he straightened up to meet Verone’s eyes. The other looked far to smug, but Roman wasn’t in any position to do much about it—he was still balls deep inside Owen, after all. Carefully pulling out, Roman made soothing noises as Owen whined at the loss and tried to close his legs around Roman to keep him from leaving.

           “It’s all right, baby. Daddy’s here.” Roman whispered, running a hand down Owen’s side. The other man sighed in content and his body relaxed at the motion. With how blissed out he looked, Roman’s fingers twitched to untie him and let him fall asleep. But, he didn’t dare as he heard Verone clear his throat. Scowling, Roman climbed off the bed and nearly dropped the towel thrown at him.

           “Clean up and get out.” Verone told him, his earlier mirth having vanished and replaced with annoyance. Grunting in response, Roman rubbed himself down before getting dressed, but when he turned to clean Owen up, Verone was there to shove him away. Narrowing his eyes, Verone barred his teeth. “Get. Out.”

           Roman could see Verone holding the large toy that had been inside Owen and a bottle of lube. “Come on, man. Let him have a break before going another round.”

           “Are you telling me what to do?” Verone hissed. The two guards that had stood by the door took a step towards them and Roman knew that he needed to make a strategic escape.

           “No.” Roman finally said. He couldn’t help but glance down at Owen and hope the other would be fine by himself. “Thanks for the reward.”

           “Don’t make me regret it, Pearce.”

           Roman simply nodded. Turning on his heel, Owen’s moan of pleasure followed him out of the room. As it shut behind him, Roman drained from all the events of the night. Deciding he was done with the club, he made his way towards the exit.

           “Stay safe, baby boy,” Roman mumbled under his breath as he glanced once last time towards the door that hid Owen.

           He never would have predicted the next time he saw Owen, he would learn Carter Verone’s boytoy was actually an international criminal.