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#the subordinate's trap
aftanith · 8 months
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Vampire Knight Guilty E4-6, "Devil's Awakening/Akuma no Ribidō/悪魔の胎動" & "The Subordinate's Trap/Jūzoku no Torappu/従属の罠" & "The Fake Lovers/Itsuwari no Ravāzu/偽りの恋人"
Today I'm covering episodes four through six of Vampire Knight: Guilty, aka Vampire Knight season two, and we finally meet our "real" villain... as if Kaname isn't already clearly a villain. Maybe he's not the villain... but I find even that concept pretty suspect, tbh. Honestly, I think we're just doing villain v. villain now. Because Kaname is not a hero by any definition.
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petrichorium · 6 months
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Thinking abt yandere marastruck jing yuan tn…….
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seishun-emergency · 1 year
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in my head there is an alternate universe version of eden where they take the gendered coding of their subunits and the implications of their group name being eden when adam and eve join together and their visual gender presentation and fuck around with gender SO much more
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hauntingblue · 2 months
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Sanji crucified and getting punished by a giant spider lady for his sins against women....
#i just noticed kaido the dragon has his cape still....#tatsumaki?? that's zoros move man.#luffy just got eaten..... well another reference to skypiea.... he will make it put unharmed... i hope he ryus back again from the inside#and does more damage.... fuck your large intestines!!!!#see.... he got puked.... thanks zoro#THE CP0????? WELL I WASNT EXPECTING THAT NOW#cant they pick their own weight and let luffy rest for like 5 more minutes... idk....#OMG SPEED!!! TAMA YOU ARE A GENIUS.....#shes got a small army!!!! she really said make peace not war#APOO IS STILL ALIVE?????. DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE#MY PINK HAIRED SAMURAI GOT ONIFIED.... RESIST MY BRAVE WARRIOR!!!#FRANKYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!! YEAAAHHHHH!!!!! nami and usopp crying about seeing him jdhsjshsjsj franky sweating bc he can't fight them all ajshaj#i love how at the end of the day the most unthinkable things like this one get done by the less physically powerful....#if i were robin or nami i would jusg let sanji there... he got himself in there he can get out why would i fight anybody for that....#epiaide 1019#he got crucified 🤣🤣🤣#<- jesus haters in 33 dc#yeah he is pathetic bc he can't fight women!!! drag him!!!!!#the caramel.... this is for the furries.......#HIYORI HELPING KINEMON???? WHO IS THAT#maria with the brass knuckles.... damn... you are going to give sanji another kink watch out#even the subordinates are shocked about him being spineless akdhaksjak THE OTHER PIRATES CALLING HIM PATHETIC#jinbe really is in love with robin like damn 'she is one of the most important people on the world' and like yeah but he is the only one#thay says it.... i am becoming a frojinbe warrior#franky saying this is a trap for robin and that a man shouldnt be this miserable... i know he wants to beat him up.... franky teach him.....#robin i love you but he isnt worth it........... like i am really not respecting sanji in onigashima.... first he lets nami and kiki get#hurt and now he puts robin in danger.... you should be ashamed of yourself sanji......#talking tag#watching one piece#episode 1021
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candy69gurl · 1 month
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HIII NEW FOLLOWER :3 i js wanna cutely ask if u could make sukuna a gentle yet rough husband(he's still the king of whatevs) and the protagonist has a dragonfly pendant that glows and makes the protagonist submissive when originally, shes a VERY stubborn wife :3 thats all tyt (⁠´⁠⊙⁠ω⁠⊙⁠`⁠)⁠!
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Trapped in Temptation
Heian Era Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader
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Warnings- 18+, slight non-con, kidnapping, threats, mentions of violence (Sukuna is gentle only with you), tricking, use of nicknames, use of abdomen mouth and mouths on four hands, fingering (Sukuna has nails), double penetration (use of 2 dicks in rear and front), nipple playing, clit rubbing, choking, raw sex (cumming inside), breeding kink
wc- 4k
ART NOT MINE !
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"Uraume, did you hear what that insolent wench said to me? She dared insult my honor!" Raging, Ryomen Sukuna paces back and forth across their opulent quarters, his four arms slicing through the air with anger. "I can't believe she would be so impudent before our subordinates! We should do something about her."
"Calm down, Lord Sukuna," Uraume interjects, standing in front of their master to block his path. "She knows not what she says. It was uncalled for, but I assure you, I shall handle the matter." They cross their arms, a determined look in their eyes.
"Uraume, she is so stubborn! Her constant attitude toward me is tiresome! I am the strongest, yet she dares to challenge me?" Ryomen Sukuna's voice booms throughout the room, emphasizing each word as he speaks. "And to think I took her as my consort... She must learn her place, or else I may end up hurting her"
With a sigh, Uraume nods understandingly, "I understand Lord, but the truth is, you've grown attached to her, haven't you?" Uraume asks, a knowing smirk playing on their lips. "I have the best solution for it"
"Tell me about it", he sits down on his throne, crossing his massive legs.
It was a sunny afternoon, as Ryomen Sukuna scanned his vast territory, standing atop the highest point of his temple. In the distance, he saw you - an unusual figure, unlike anyone he had ever encountered. Something within him stirred, a feeling he could not explain. His instincts screamed to hunt and devour this new prey, but a strange force held him back.
"You know I told you," Uraume said, looking up at Sukuna with a playful smile, "that sometimes we can find the most unlikely sources of entertainment."
Ryomen Sukuna grunted, acknowledging the truth in Uraume's words. He couldn't deny the fascination he felt for you. "Indeed, I will send my spies to follow her."
Weeks passed, and Ryomen Sukuna found himself consumed by your thoughts. He could resist no longer, and finally confided in Uraume, "I have grown obsessed with her. I've decided that I wish to bring her to me - against her will if necessary". A wicked grin spreaded across his face, revealing his sharp teeth. "Prepare the plan for her capture, and ensure she arrives here safely."
A sinister grin flashed across Uraume's face. "As you wish, Lord Sukuna. Your desire shall be fulfilled." And so, with expert planning and stealth, Uraume carried out the task of capturing you. When you were finally brought before him, bound and trembling, Sukuna couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement.
In the grand temple, surrounded by darkness and the oppressive aura of Ryomen Sukuna, fear coursed through your veins like ice water. You couldn't help but tremble at the sight of the towering, monstrous figure before you. Even as he approached you gently, offering words of comfort, your heart pounded uncontrollably. The very air seemed heavy with his power, and you couldn't shake the feeling of loathing and dread that bubbled up within you.
"Fear not," Sukuna whispered, his voice a velvety rumble in the silence of the chamber. "I have taken a liking to you, and will not harm you...for now." He gazed into your frightened eyes, his own full of curiosity and perhaps even a hint of longing. "I promise you, you are safe here – for the moment."
Breathless and shaking, you pleaded with Ryomen Sukuna, "Please, let me go! I don't want to stay here, with you..." Your voice quivered, desperation clear in every word. But the mighty demon lord only stared at you, his expression unreadable behind his cold facade.
As days turned into nights, and then into weeks, you refused to eat, choosing instead to starve yourself in protest. Your pale and unwell body greatly concerned Sukuna.
"Enough of this nonsense!" Ryomen Sukuna's voice rang out, echoing through the temple chambers. "Uraume, attend to her."
Despite your protests, Uraume stepped forward, concern in their eyes. "Please, consume at least a bit, it will make things easier for all of us."
You looked up at them defiantly, tears welling in your eyes. "I won't eat!"
"This obstinacy is truly fascinating," Sukuna muttered, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of irritation and intrigue. "You underestimate the consequences of your actions. If you continue to starve yourself, your life will be endangered."
Uraume sighed softly, eyeing you with worry. "Just a morsel," they pleaded, gently placing a small bite of food on your tongue. "For your own sake."
But you stubbornly clamped your jaw shut, refusing to swallow the offered sustenance. Your determination was steadfast, fueled by your desire to leave the clutches of Ryomen Sukuna.
Seeing your resolve, Sukuna's eyes narrowed, and he spoke with a dangerous edge to his voice, "Very well. Have it your way. But know this, if you die, I am going to kill every human on this earth."
"Y-you cannot do that-", your words fell on deaf ears, as Ryomen Sukuna merely laughed darkly, the sound echoing ominously in the temple chambers.
"Oh, little mortal, do not mistake my words for idle threats. I am capable of such destruction. And if you persist in defying me, I may just do it."
Watching you waste away drove Uraume mad with worry. They tried once again to reason with you, "Do not test Lord Sukuna's patience, child. You know not the extent of his powers. You must eat, for humans' sake."
Reluctantly, you opened your mouth for Uraume, swallowing the food they offered. The taste was foreign, and your stomach growled in protest, but you knew better than to refuse. Your eyes met Ryomen Sukuna's, a mixture of defiance and despair in their depths. You were trapped, a caged bird desperate for freedom.
As days passed, you learned to endure your imprisonment, adapting to the odd rhythms of your captivity. Ryomen Sukuna watched you closely, a never-ending study of this fascinating creature who had captured his interest. Though you remained subdued, he couldn't help but notice the occasional flash of rebellion in your eyes.
One fateful day, unable to contain your frustration any longer, you spoke out of turn, lashing out at Ryomen Sukuna in front of his ever-loyal servants. The words tumbled from your lips, sharp and cutting, as if driven by sheer desperation to assert some semblance of control over your situation.
Ryomen Sukuna's eyes narrowed, his expression turning dark as thunderclouds. With a swift movement, he took hold of your arm, lifting you off the ground effortlessly. "Is this how you repay me for keeping you alive?" His voice was low and dangerous, sending shivers down your spine.
"Perhaps I should reconsider my decision to spare you," he snarled, holding you aloft in his powerful grip, the muscles in his arms straining visibly. Your heart leaped into your throat as you realized the severity of your actions.
"Kill me, it's better to die than to live with a monster like you!", defiance blazed in your eyes as you spat the words at Ryomen Sukuna, your voice shaking with emotion.
Surprisingly, Ryomen Sukuna paused, his eyes softening momentarily. "Monster?" He released you, allowing you to stumble back, breathless and terrified. "I have done nothing but provide you with a measure of safety, and this how you repay me?"
Uraume stepped forward, trying to diffuse the tension. "Lord Sukuna, she is weakened, emotionally and physically. It's not wise to push her too far." They glanced at you, concern etched in their face. "Let us give her time to adjust to her circumstances."
Ryomen Sukuna hesitated, his sharp gaze never leaving you. "Get her out of my sight. NOW!"
Uraume quickly complied, guiding you away from Sukuna and into the comfort of your quarters. As the door closed behind you, you slumped against it, gasping for breath. Emotions swirled within, tearing at your fragile psyche. Fear, anger, resentment, and a strange kind of fascination with the demonic ruler.
In the quiet hours of night, Uraume approaches Ryomen Sukuna, a dragonfly pendant glimmering in their hand. Their voice soft but filled with purpose. "We have found a way to control her defiance, Lord. A dragonfly pendant of ancient origin, said to bring submission to those who wear it."
"Show me," Ryomen Sukuna commands, his interest piqued. Taking the gleaming object from Uraume's hand, he examines the delicate craftsmanship, a faint glow emanating from its center. A slow, predatory smile spreads across his face. "This could prove useful."
Uraume nods, understanding his intentions. "Once she wears it, and the pendant comes in contact with your iris, she will become submissive, appeasing her rebellious nature. Perhaps we can break her spirit and bend her to our will."
Ryomen Sukuna studies the dragonfly pendant, imagining the effect it would have on her. His dark eyes sparkles with anticipation, the plan working perfectly in his favor.
"But Lord.. Remember you have to trick her into wearing it", Uraume warns knowing your stubborn nature.
Rolling his eyes, Ryomen Sukuna dismisses Uraume's warning. "Trust me, I know how to manipulate her."
The following day, as dawn breaks over his kingdom, he seeks you out with a seemingly contrite expression. Apologizing for the previous day's outburst, he holds out the dragonfly pendant. "Here, take this as a token of reconciliation. Wear it close to you, as a sign of our understanding".
There's an underlying current of menace beneath his words, caught off guard by the unexpected apology, you tentatively accept the dragonfly pendant from Ryomen Sukuna's hand. As the delicate piece of jewelry slides around your neck, your heart races in anticipation.
Sukuna's eyes fall on the pendant and it glows, then a sudden warmth floods your being, and you feel an overwhelming sensation of... submission?
The change is immediate and profound. Your resistance crumbles, replaced by an inexplicable urge to obey. You fall to your knees, your eyes fixed on the ground, "I am sorry, Lord Sukuna. Please forgive my insolence." A wave of submission washes over you, eliminating the last vestiges of rebellion in your heart. The dragonfly pendant, now resting delicately against your collarbone, pulsed gently with each beat of your heart.
Ryomen Sukuna's eyes widens in surprise, a twisted grin spreading across his face. With a predatory grin, Ryomen Sukuna takes advantage of this newfound submission. Grasping your arm, he pulls you to your feet, your eyes locked with his. "Now that we understand each other, let's start fresh. Let me introduce you to the joys of our new arrangement."
A sense of helplessness grips you, as he leads you to a sumptuous room, adorned with silk sheets and plush cushions. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, and you struggle to process the turn of events. As Ryomen Sukuna guides you towards the luxurious bed, you can't help but wonder how much more control he intends to claim over your body and soul.
"Remove your clothing," he orders, his tone commanding yet tinged with anticipation. Your fingers tremble, complying with his demand. Slowly, you undress, the dragonfly pendant glowing softly against your now-bare skin. An overwhelming sense of submission courses through you, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in front of the imposing figure of Ryomen Sukuna.
He watches you intently, his eyes never leaving your form. He steps closer, the heat of his body enveloping you, and you can't help but shudder, a mix of fear and desire coursing through you. "Turn around," he instructs, his voice a seductive purr. You obey without question, presenting your bare back to him.
His skilled hands move over your skin, tracing patterns that send shivers down your spine. "You are mine now," he whispers, his voice thick with desire.
He gives a searing kiss between your shoulder blades, his touch dominant and undeniably passionate. Every stroke of his hands, every caress of his lips, is a reminder of your new reality - one governed by his desires and his will alone.
Underneath his command, you find yourself responding in kind, your body betraying the fear that once held you in its grasp.
Ryomen Sukuna gently places you on the silken bed, his massive form towering over you. Your body trembles under the weight of his gaze, and his four arms wrap around you, holding you tightly, securely. The sensation is both terrifying and exciting, your heart racing in tandem with your growing arousal.
Slowly, he begins to explore your body, his fingers probing your core. You arch your back, torn between pain and pleasure.
"My, you're tight," he murmurs, his fingers sliding in and out of you with practiced ease. "Such a shame. You need to learn to relax for me."
Each thrust sends shockwaves of sensation through your body, the dragonfly pendant glowing with each movement. You moan softly, unable to deny the pleasure intermingling with your fear. "Please, Lord Sukuna," you whisper, the words slipping past your lips without conscious thought.
"Please, what?" He asks, his fingers continuing their rhythmic dance inside you. His voice is deep and velvety, wrapping around your senses like a warm blanket.
"Make love to me, please," you beg, your voice barely steady. There's a strange vulnerability in your plea, a stark contrast to the defiance he once faced.
Ryomen Sukuna's smirk grows wider, his eyes shining with triumph. "I have been waiting for this moment." he confirms, his fingers pausing briefly before he removes them from your body.
As Ryomen Sukuna leans in to kiss you, his enormous tongue darts out from his abdominal mouth, tracing a path to your clit. The sensation is unlike anything you've experienced before, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. You gasp, your mind reeling with a mix of pleasure and confusion.
His tongue laps at your sensitive flesh, eliciting a moan from deep within your core. Simultaneously, his lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his tongue invading your mouth with the same boldness. His four hands roam freely, exploring every inch of your trembling body.
"You taste divine," he growls against your lips, his tongue from abdomen continues its assault on your clit.
One of his four arms reaches down to your core, thrusting inside with surprising ease. The sudden invasion triggers a response, your body arching off the bed in a fierce orgasm. Pleasure rips through you, a tidal wave of release that leaves you breathless and panting.
Breath still ragged from your climax, you watch in awe as Ryomen Sukuna discards his garments, revealing not one, but two erect phalluses. Shock momentarily paralyzes you, but his command snaps you out of it. Nervously, you position yourself between his legs, your hands trembling as you reach out to touch the unfamiliar appendages.
Your tongue darts out, hesitantly exploring one of his erect members. Your inexperience is evident, but he seems content to guide you. "That's right," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how eager you are to serve me."
You obey, your skill improving with each passing second. You alternate between his two phalluses, each one throbbing under your touch. His hands thread through your hair, guiding you as he mutters praises under his breath, his grip firm but gentle on your scalp. Your lips wrap around one of his member, your cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper. A strange sense washes over you, realizing he's taken complete control of this encounter.
Ryomen Sukuna groans, his hips bucking slightly under your ministrations. "So eager to please your master, aren't you?" he taunts.
"Mhm," you mumble around his member, your voice muffled by the flesh filling your mouth. The dragonfly pendant glows fiercely at your chest, a constant reminder of your submission. "Whatever you want, Lord Sukuna."
His laughter fills the room, a deep, rolling sound that vibrates through the air. "Delightful. Just remember, you belong to me now."
You continue to service him, your body responding to his every command, every thrust of his hips.
Ryomen Sukuna's laughter dies down, replaced by a growl of satisfaction as he pushes your head back. With an effortless strength, he picks you up with his four hands, aligning one of his hardened members with your entrance. In one swift motion, he pushes inside you, filling you to the brim.
You cry out, the sensation intense and overwhelming. Your walls stretch to accommodate his size, toes curling and head resting on his broad chest.
Ryomen Sukuna grins down at you, clearly pleased with your tightness. He responds by pounding into you with brutal intensity, each thrust driving deeper into your core.
"Tight little thing," he mutters, his voice guttural with lust. "Perfect for my needs."
Suddenly, Ryomen Sukuna notices the dragonfly pendant is missing from around your neck, but your face remains submissive. Confused, he slows down his movements, searching your face for any trace of rebellion. But there's none; only submissive yearning stares back at him.
"P-please lord, d-don't stop, i-i am so close.."
His lips curl up to a grin, his eyes narrow, studying you closely. "Is that so?" He resumes his thrusts, watching your reaction carefully. Your face contorts with pleasure, your body responding to his every stroke.
Without warning, Ryomen Sukuna pulls out of you, urging you onto your knees. You comply instantly, your body quivering with anticipation. He positions himself behind you, entering you from behind with renewed vigor.
The difference in angle sends waves of pleasure cascading through you. Each thrust strikes a new nerve, bringing you closer to the edge. You moan, your body begging for release.
Just as you start to crest, he stops with his thrusts keeping his member deep inside you, leaving you panting and desperate. "Patience," he growls, wetting his fingers with his saliva.
Your heart races, knowing what comes next. He inserts his wet digit into your tight rear, stretching you in a whole new way. You gasp, the sensation overwhelming. "P-please" you stammer, but it comes out more like a plea than protest.
Ryomen Sukuna chuckles darkly, his fingers working in concert with his cock. "Relax, little one. This will make you sing."
The added pressure forces you to focus solely on the sensations engulfing you. You breathe deeply, trying to accommodate his digits. His laughter echoes in the room, a cruel counterpoint to your mounting frustration. His other member pulses, impatient and ready to join the fray.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he withdraws his fingers, coated in evidence of your readiness. You tremble, anticipation building to a fever pitch.
In one swift motion, he introduces the second shaft inside you, stretching you beyond belief. Tears prick at your eyes, a mix of pleasure and pain washing over you, but you don't resist, your body listening to him.
As both of his members work inside you, his four hands come into play. Two grip your hips firmly, guiding his thrusts while the others explore your body. His mouth forms from his other pair of arms, closing over your breast. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever experienced.
His suckling mouths formed from his hands tug gently at your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body.
"Oh gods, yes!" You exclaim, surrendering to the sensation. His dual attention, the incredible fullness inside you, overwhelms you.
"That's right," he croons, his voice deep and sultry. "Take it all, show me how much you enjoy being filled."
Two of his hands reluctantly leave your breasts, giving them a tight squeeze before retreating. You whimper, feeling deprived even though you remain filled to the brim. It's almost too much, his dual penetration combined with his previous attentions.
Then, one of his hands drifts lower, touching your clit with feather-light touches. The other wraps around your throat, cutting off your air.
"N-no, wait...!" You choke out, struggling for breath.
"Quiet," he growls.
Without warning, his tongue emerges from his hand currently stroking your clit. It dances across your nerve bundle with expert precision, pushing you closer to the precipice. At the same time, the other hand leaves hickeys on your exposed neck, marking you as his own.
You gasp, the combination of sensations finally proving too much. Your body convulses, your orgasm soon going to occur.
As your orgasm builds, Ryomen Sukuna leans in close, his voice a seductive rumble against your ear. "I found your weakness," he whispers, his abdomen's mouth tracing lines along your spine. "Tell me you accept me as your husband."
You shiver, the combination of his words and actions overwhelming. His thrusting never stops, pushing you higher and higher.
"Lord Sukuna..." you manage, your voice breathy.
"Still a stubborn one, aren't you?" he chuckles, his pace increasing.
His thrusts become more urgent, matching the rhythm of your impending release. "I said accept me as your husband," he commands, the demand clear in his voice.
You nod, your body shaking from the sheer force of his command. "Yes...my Lord, I accept you as my husband" you admit, surrendering completely.
"Want to bear my child?," he asks, his mouth on his abdomen resuming its licking.
"Y-yes yes yes.. F-fill me, Lord.. I want.. your babies.. hnghnn", you reply, drools dripping from your chin. The thought surging through your body as you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.
Ryomen Sukuna matches your release, his own body convulsing as he finds his own climax.
With a final burst of energy, Ryomen Sukuna fills both your holes, his seed spilling hot and thick inside you. The sensation is indescribable, filling you to the brim. As he finishes, his seed trickles down between your legs, coating you in his essence.
His breathing labored, he collapses against you, resting his forehead on your back. You lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared experience.
His eyes fall upon the dragonfly pendant lying innocently on the floor, and a slow smile spreads across his face. "Well well, look at that."
He lifts you gently, turning you around so you're facing him. Holding the pendant between his fingers, he holds it to your lips. "We don't need this anymore"
Taking the pendant from his fingers and throwing it away you pout angrily at him, "You tricked me."
A wicked gleam enters his eyes, and he pulls you closer, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. "Just wanted you to realize your real feelings towards me. All you needed was a little push."
You pull back, your lips parting slowly. you stare into his eyes, realizing he's right. Your body did submit without the dragonfly pendant at the end. Your feelings towards him are genuine.
"I'm yours, Lord Sukuna."
His grin widens, he is indeed thanking Uraume in his mind, his hands caressing your face tenderly. "That's what I always wanted to hear, love."
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torchwood-99 · 2 months
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Eowyn and Gothic Horror
I've ranted about the interpretation that Eowyn's rejection of gender roles was a symptom of her sickness, caused only by Grima's manipulations. An interpretation that doesn't hold to either Gandalf's speech in the Houses of Healing, when he specifies how the liberties denied to Eowyn and allowed to Eomer and her male peers played a crucial role in her depression, or when we see how Eowyn was really vindicated in her decision to ride to battle by her victory over the Witch King. A victory that wins her incredible renown and respect.
I think this reading comes about because people see the significance of Grima's contribution to Eowyn's despair, and think he is the sole source of it.
But Eowyn was not dissatisfied with her role and her enforced position in the house because of Grima's manipulations. She didn't rail against sexism because Grima played with her head and "poisoned" her traditionally feminine role for her.
Grima was able to prey on Eowyn, manipulate her and drive her to despair, because of the sexism that forced Eowyn to remain stuck in the house.
Look at the speech Gandalf gives Eomer about Eowyn's sufferings. The very first thing he mentions is the fact that Eowyn was denied the freedoms and opportunities Eomer had. The suffering that follows stems from that first initial injustice.
Because of that first injustice, Eowyn was rendered vulnerable, and Grima was able to exploit that. That isolation, that limited freedom, that unhappiness about her lack of choices, left her free game for Grima to take an already bad situation, and make it far worse.
Thinking about Eowyn's experience in Meduseld, what the impact of being confined to the domestic sphere did to her, and what is left her vulnerable to, makes me think of Gothic horror, and the role of sexism and domesticity in that genre too.
Eowyn's situation before the novels is that of a classic Gothic heroine. A fair, beautiful woman, trapped inside a decaying house, and preyed on by an awful monster, who hungers after her beauty and longs to possess her. Or else, destroy her.
Domestic settings and isolation are pretty crucial themes in the gothic genre, and for that reason it has historically been seen as a woman's genre. It taps into a pretty universal fear of what happens when home ceases to be a safe space, a fear that historically, has a particularly great resonance for women.
Whereas traditionally home is a refuge and respite for men from the world, the home is the woman's only true acceptable sphere. And yet even there she is subordinate. Therefore, she is vulnerable. With no place in the outside world, she has no escape, no respite, no refuge. If home becomes an evil, she is trapped. And because she has no place in the social sphere, she has no voice either. She is invisible, she is overlooked, her sufferings and her contributions are passed over,
Eowyn is isolated. Eowyn is vulnerable. Eowyn is overlooked. And because Eowyn is isolated and vulnerable and overlooked, Grima is able to get his hooks into her and drive her to despair. She is a wild animal, trammelled and caught in a hutch, a predator's helpless prey. But Grima didn't put Eowyn in the hutch. Eowyn was already there. Grima just took advantage of that.
Even after Grima is gone, Meduseld is still a place Eowyn longs to escape, and while its evil is purged and she does return, it is only for a short while. Grima's defeat is not enough to make Meduseld a place where Eowyn can find real happiness or fulfilment. On its own, it still represents a role for Eowyn that she wishes to move beyond.
The healing counterpoint to Eowyn's gothic castle of horrors, the hutch she was caught in, is in escape, and in a return to nature.
Eowyn's entire romance with Faramir takes place within the gardens of the Houses of Healing, where we see Eowyn start to recover from her ordeal. It takes place on the open, in the garden, on the ramparts, with much notice given to the sky and the sun and the elements around them.
(Also, the Houses of Healing themselves are not a domestic setting, but a public one, and there we see women working alongside men and holding authority.)
Eowyn's happy ending, her great escape, climaxes with her decision to go with Faramir to Ithilien.
Ithilien is the exact opposite of a hutch. It's descriptions are filled with natural imagery, and is known as the Garden of Gondor. It is a place for growth and fresh starts. A place of freedom. A place for a wild thing.
When Faramir suggests that he and Eowyn live in Ithilien, he reasserts again and again that they will go there if it is Eowyn's will. Both Tolkien and Faramir put emphasis on the importance of Eowyn's will, and Eowyn's right to freedom of movement.
In his plans for their future, Faramir talks of "us" and "we", removing the separation between men (belonging to the social sphere) and women (belonging to the domestic), and speaks of Ithilien as a shared dwelling place for both of them. Faramir only distinguishes between himself and Eowyn when he puts importance on Eowyn's will, and at the end, on Eowyn's influence.
At the close of his speech, Faramir says all things will grow with joy in Ithilien, if Eowyn is there. Returning Ithilien to its former glory, allowing it to bloom once more, is to become Faramir's life's work, and still it is Eowyn's influence he puts centre stage. Far from being kept confined to the domestic sphere, relegated to being Faramir's home support while he dominates the rehabilitation of Ithilien, Faramir places Eowyn's work and Eowyn's significance at the heart of their future together.
Eowyn goes from being shut in the house, where everything around her was decaying and falling to ruin, to being freed to stand in the heart of nature, where there is a chance for influence, growth, and fresh starts.
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celestemona · 9 months
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WHERE YOU’RE HIS BELOVED S/O
but you don’t respect the law
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pairing: neuvillette x fem former gang leader! reader
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
when you first started dating Neuvillette, the looks you both got on the street were pure admiration and a touch of envy. after all, it was no wonder why when the two of you exuded an unshakable elegance and the stares you exchanged with each other drew long sighs from even the most unromantic person.
wherever you went together people would whisper in delight, gossiping about your last date and pointing out on how you filled in what the other lacked. from your charming, mysterious personality to Neuvillette's seriousness and honesty, you and him were considered the most famous, beautiful and powerful couple in Fontaine — the definition of perfect for each other.
but many still wondered how the Chief Justice got his heart stole after spending the last few years rejecting any potential partners, because even the most senior citizens of the capital remember only seeing the iudex accompanied only by the eccentric hydro archon, to whom he served more as a responsible guardian than a right hand.
the truth was that for nearly a decade you had been in Neuvillette's crosshairs. or rather, in the crosshairs of the law.
what the hydro nation’s population didn’t imagine was that behind your sweet smiles and kind words was hiding an ambitious, astute woman and former head of one of the most famous illegal organizations in Fontaine with connections throughout Teyvat. and for years you managed to manage and expand your business without the goddess herself being suspicious of all the illegal activities that went on under her nose.
at that time, you didn't know which of the fontanian authorities to watch out for and so you loosened the reins. unfortunately or not, that was your downfall so you couldn't hide from the Chief Justice for very long — in fact, you actually did.
the only relationship that Neuvillette had for all the decades (centuries) he was alive was with his responsibility, therefore, it wasn’t difficult for you to use the art of persuasion and seduction to get rid of the main objectives of the man who was to take you to court and condemn you for your crimes.
for months you've been successful in your escapes, using your wiles, wits and contacts to hide any evidence that could land you in trial.
however, it wasn't until you ended up stumbling into your own trap that you found yourself willingly surrendering to the dragon-man.
it was only when you partially abandoned the illegal business that you then started dating, though. Neuvillette might love you irrevocably but he wouldn't date someone who was involved in fraud or smuggling — besides, you too were tired of your old life and so left your leader's chair to your most faithful and trusted friend.
although you now had a good business as a florist in the hydro capital, you still pulled strings to smuggle some rare flowers from Sumeru or seeds only found in the heart of Natlan to your shop. Neuvillette would usually stare at you in disapproval, but then forget to give you a lecture for the way you managed to distract him with kisses and sweet talk.
“last time this month, my love. i promise."
“ma chérie, you said that last week.”
“i know i know! but do you know Colette? that kind lady who always offers us the freshest macarons from her thursday batches? she loved the popularity of Kalpalatas in her bakery and made me an order of sixty of them, can you believe that? Kalpalatas are not easy to find, mon amour. no no.”
Neuvillette could only sigh in weariness, the silver engagement ring on his right ring finger glinting as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“make sure the goods arrive before dawn on tuesday.”
smiling mischievously you declared “i love you.”
even if this new life was quite different from your original character, no one could dispute how it fit you so well. even your former subordinates had only positive comments to make about how the domestic routine suited you. and you really wouldn't change a thing about it because you were never as happy as you were with the man who lay down beside you every night, and dawned with his arms tightly around you.
if anything, you wouldn't change anything in your life because that way you would never meet Neuvillette.
even if there was still so much difference between the two of you, there couldn't be a better relationship of companionship and understanding than that.
that must be the reason why that instead of running away again, you preferred to be caught.
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flokali · 3 months
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— Concept: Student Yandere and Professor Darling
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Warning: GN! Reader, blackmail, n/on-con, d/ub-con, age gap, student-teacher relationship, push-over reader, unfair ending, n/oncon recording, uhh ask to tag!
A/N: just a concept that plagued me for a while... hhhhhhh;; i'm so normal ab this
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Any dynamics that involve an authority figure and a subordinate, no matter how innocent they may initially seem, are doomed from the start for either or both of the parties involved. 
There’s an underlying power imbalance, someone holds the authority over the other, there is no nice way to put it, unfortunately. 
Most of the time, in fics, I see a lot of Yan professors creeping on their students, but the thought of a student Yan harassing their beloved professor has been plaguing my mind. 
I see the relationship as one that starts sweetly, you’ve noticed a certain student in your course that’s been falling behind, making mistakes that should have long been addressed, their work is always late or partially done and you’re growing slightly annoyed at them for wasting your time and misusing theirs as well, you’d offered them private tutoring when you found out it seemed to be only your course where they were turning in these less than acceptable projects. 
They reject, seemingly embarrassed that you’d even offered such a proposal. You try to calm their nerves down, you’re pretty young yourself, you only graduated a few years ago and you won’t charge them, it won't be a daily thing but they can pop in every once in a while at your office so you can review and work on assignments and such. The hesitant look on their face seems to slowly be melting off.
You continue insisting, you lay out the facts as they are; they’re a brilliant student who has been passing all other courses and extracurricular activities with flying colors, so why is that your course has become such a challenge to them? You’be seen them work and the way they behave during class, you’ve even noticed how some students go to them to try and clear up any questions and study together with them, rumors about them being easily one of the college’s star students were always going around, so it’s either that they’re making shit up and lying to their peers, which you doubt since you’ve seen their works before and after reaching out to them, or they were purposefully trying to fail your class, maybe they thought it’d be easier and decided to try it and decided from the get go not do their best – after all, it wasn’t as if all of the work they’ve handed is bad, there’s some clear understanding of what they’re doing, it’s just that they seem insistent on missing something, even if it means inconsistencies in their resume of work, the assignments that made up less percentage of the overall grade were done well enough but anything that was important was clearly half-assed. You explain your concern; you’re genuinely worried your class might hold them back from graduating with their peers, if things kept going on like this, they’d fail your class and if they did, they’d have to repeat the semester and risk graduating a year or so later.
It’s then that they pull out a card they’d been holding on to dearly for a situation such as this, a perfectly curated story meant to pull at your heartstrings and lead you into their honey sweet trap;
They start going on about a sob story about their parents’ jobs, how they were struggling financially for a while since their parents cut them partially off for choosing a college out of their town, and how they’re supposed to provide for themselves for things such as food and bills, about how their schedule is always so busy trying to balance college, their friendships, mending their relationship with their parents, and their job on top of all studying they’ve been doing, how your class had unfortunately been the least of their concerns and that they’re immensely sorry to have worried you and that they are willing to do anything to make up for their past grades. 
You can empathize with such a dilemma, being fresh out of college yourself, the memories of balancing relationships, work, and academics are still freshly etched into your mind. 
They clearly seem burned out and your heart aches seeing a student as promising as themselves dim down so drastically. You’d hate to be one class that impedes them from graduating on time, you don't want to be the lone profesor responsible for slowing down such a valuable asset to society.
You sit them down and try to offer them some advice, you were in a similar situation when you were in college yourself, you try to explain the ways you managed to survive and bypass college, going into detail about your own problems and how you were able to live through it all. They seem visibly more relaxed during the conversation, nodding along and explaining their own feelings and hardships, you both manage to sympathize with each other and come to an arrangement.
It’s completely under the table since you are worried what it might look like, but from now on until the end of this semester you’d use a more relaxed, less strict grading system for them, after all, they did have a legitimate reason for their behavior and they were willing to make up for it. That is, under the condition that they start taking tutoring classes from either yourself or a fellow classmate, they weren’t able to balance the studying schedule necessary so you’d try and manage at least one aspect of it for them to try and make their life a little bit easier.
They agree gladly, but not before asking if you could be the tutor, when you’d questioned their request they explain themselves, seemingly embarrassed for their own reasoning;
“I don’t want it to get out that I’m failing your class, professor…” The smile they wear seems genuine and shy and you nod in understanding, college students are only older teenagers, after all, most of them are still stuck in their high school mentality and you wouldn’t put it past a bunch of immature little shits to try and mess with someone who was struggling.
What you don’t know is that they’ve been planning for something like this to happen from the get go, always going out of their way to purposefully present themselves as a stupid, pathetic and incompetent student that would need their hot professor’s (your) help to pass the course.
During your first couple of sessions they work extra hard to make themselves seem as ditzy and clueless as possible, making as many mistakes and errors as humanly reasonable without getting you too annoyed at them. They even begin to dress in slightly more provocative ways, their speech seems more flirtatious, their touches linger on your shoulders for longer than necessary, but you brush it off, trying to ignore the signs, and think of it as a silly crush, opting to try to focus on helping them get through this semester with either a decent or average grade.
Their grades are getting better but with the current pace, you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough.
So, you ignore the uncomfortable, sinking feeling in your gut and suggest making your tutoring sessions more frequent - instead of once a week maybe twice or thrice if it was really necessary.
You didn’t expect them to suggest going to your place. Originally, you’d suggested either the library or a cafe, but they said they felt too embarrassed and self-conscious at the idea of their peers watching him, they claimed they’d probably make fun of them for needing help for a course they’d been taking for almost a whole semester at that point.
They insist on your place, but you reject the idea, they say it’s either there or at their place because elsewhere you both risk either staff or some of the student body seeing you both together and getting the wrong idea. The conversation goes on for hours until you’re exhausted and give in. 
They are a good person, right? Even if the thought of a student knowing where you lived made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t like they’d do anything about it… right?
You try to limit the study space to your living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen every once in a while if you notice the snacks you had brought weren’t enough, but never further than that. Your bedroom and office were completely off limits, you’d made it explicitly clear that if you caught them wandering far you’d have no choice but to kick them out and stop the tutoring, possibly even having to call the campus’ authorities if you felt they were getting too out of line – your reputation be damned. 
They also were only allowed to come over during the weekends and on specific weekdays where no one would be able to catch him entering your apartment.
They agree and promise to follow every single one of the rules you’d put in place.
But it doesn’t take long for them to start going back on their word and start “exploring” your living space, it started small – simply walking around your living room, examining framed pictures, looking over books, memorizing the placement of your trinkets and decor, making a mental note of the colors you used in the space, they make sure to remember to try and look up where you got your cushions and everything as well, they start looking into you fridge and pantry to make see what you eat, if there’s any indication of a possible food allergy; it’s all investigative work for your future together. It’s not too long before they’ve memorized your living room and are drawn to the rest of your house. They've gone to your bedroom and studied the space, taking note of the way you made your bed and how many pillows you have, they also have made a list of products you use and like, such as scents and soaps, to make sure your transition to their place is as smooth as possible. Soon, they could very well draw a floor plan of your place and recreate your home in the most basic of softwares. 
The only reason you haven’t caught up to them is because they’ve taken to spiking your drinks with sleep medication, strong enough dosages that you’ll be knocked out for a while, but not enough that you’ll realize you were drugged.
It’s during your sleeping state that the next part of their plan starts to take action. They’ll purposefully plant evidence in your home of their presence and snap pictures, suddenly their underwear is in your laundry basket, and why are you wearing their hoodies to sleep, huh? They’re meticulously planned and staged pictures that make it look like you were engaging in a romantic relationship, but it’s not enough — they need more, something more extreme. More incriminating, something that would absolutely destroy your career and reputation if it came out.
What about a picture of them going down on you? Or one with their cum all over your face? Your naked figure cuddling up to their bare chest? Some makeup to look like hickies could look realistic in pictures too, you know. Maybe them on top of you… or you on top of them? Or one where your lips are sucking their fingers like a —! Ah, the thought has them blushing! All of these photos are like their dreams come true! You look like such a perfect spouse, taking their love~ They make sure to clean up the space, but they’re growing bolder and more confident in their work.
They even have videos of themselves jacking off on top of you, but they’re always so good at making it seem like you’re awake and participating in these activities! It really does look like you’re helping them get off with your own mouth.
You’re such a naughty professor seducing your innocent, sweet student like that!
It’s sick, they’re sick and they know it fully well but they don’t care, as long as they don’t get caught – there’s no way in hell they’ll stop.
Their grades begin improving and there’s no longer any fear of them failing your class, in fact you’d go as far to say they’ve easily become one of your best students in terms of grades. Things seem to be looking up and you’re pretty proud of yourself for having had a positive impact on them, which is why you come to the conclusion they won’t be needing your tutoring anymore. 
You call them over to your office after classes, making sure to be as nice as possible. At first you were annoyed and put off by them, their initial behavior was unsettling and persistent, but after a couple of months of getting to know them you’ve grown to care for them and genuinely wish them the best, you’d pointed out how teaching them had been a joy and you’d always end the sessions feeling better than before, which is why you’d chosen to end the tutoring. You lay out the facts as they are, their grades have improved and there’s no longer any threat of them failing your class, you’d also be risking people misunderstanding the situation if it went any longer, if word came out you’d been using a different rubric to grade them until recently and that they’d been going over to your place, it would simply look bad for both of you. You’d risk getting sanctioned, possibly even losing your job if things were taken in the wrong way, and they could repeat the semester or even have their work in your class be null and having to take a new course entirely, if not even being kicked out.
There’s a minute of silence between the two of you, the air is thick and you wonder if you should have been softer in your delivery as you watch them process your words.
It takes them a while, you decide to give them the time because you have indeed noticed how they’d seem to grow ever so attached to you and they might take this a bit too personally, but you’re soon starting to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the silence continues.
You’re about to say something again, try to soften the blow with some generic encouragement about how they’ll do well regardless of you being their tutor or not, when you hear them chuckle softly under their breath.
You’re taken aback, your eyes widen in surprise and you unconsciously lean back into your chair, but that seems to have further encouraged their laughter as soon they’re covering their face with the back of their hand as they double over in laughter.
It’s strange but you decide to give them a few seconds to regain their composure, maybe this was a nervous habit? You’d heard of people who’d laugh when anxious, but you’d never seen something so theatrical.
They slowly sit back up, wiping tears from their eyes as a few chuckles escape their smiling lips. They haven’t fully calmed down but seem to be making an effort to continue the conversation nonetheless.
“Ah, professor,” your last name tumbles from their lips in a joyous manner but their eyes look icy as they stare at you, their voice feels more aggressive even if the words came out from a smile, “don’t be so ridiculous, I think things are working pretty well as they are, I have no desire to change our… relationship.” 
You’re taken by surprise, their word choice feels odd and purposeful, but you insist regardless.
“There is no relationship between us,” you state, “I am your professor, do you understand? That means that if I say your tutoring is over, it’s over; I have been going easy on you and helping you out but do not misinterpret my intentions, you are my student and that’s where our acquaintanceship ends. If you think you’ll continue needing help, I’m certain our TA will be more than glad to step up and help you out.”  
They smile as they take their phone out of their pocket and your stomach drops for a second, wondering what on earth they could have there. They slide it towards you after unlocking it, they’re carefree in their handling of the device and your nerves start to rise, a gut wrenching feeling settles in your stomach, you don’t really understand what you’re seeing at first but once you do you feel your blood run cold.
You don’t even realize they’ve walked behind your chair, too focused on the picture of your naked body cuddling up to their equally nude form. They’re smiling, tenderly caressing your bare shoulders, embracing your body in such a loving manner it looked like you were lovers. When… When did they take this? 
Your voice is shaking but they don’t answer you, instead opting to crouch beside you and show you the hundreds of incriminating pictures themselves.
They start telling you a story based on the pictures, the one they seemed to be telling you even if you knew that everything they depicted was fake, about a promiscuous professor that seduced their student, coaxed them into a relationship and took advantage of their position to influence the student into falling in love with them.
You want to tell them it won’t work, threaten to call the dean or the campus police, but they quickly clear out any confusion; “Would anyone believe a student would seduce a teacher and that it’s not the other way around?”
You know exactly what they mean; you’re the professor, you hold the authority. You had never been able to put a stop to it because you had no idea what they were doing but that didn’t matter, it was your word against theirs and they had “evidence”.
They seem proud of themselves too, telling you about all the ways they set up the rooms and photos to make sure they looked as real as possible. They’d taken their clothes and belongings over to your place in secret, made sure to apply makeup in the right places with the correct lighting, it seriously felt like an art they’d perfected.
You ask them what they could possibly want, clearly it couldn’t be only your tutoring if they were going this far. They smile and tell you they simply want a relationship with you, one that goes beyond a professor and a student; from that day onwards they wanted to be your lover.
You want to say no, but they remind you of the position you’re in; “You know, I’ve got these backed up in a bunch of places, it’d be a shame if one leaked, right, professor?” 
You feel numb as they lock the door of your office and guide you on top of your desk, you barely even register them going down on you - stripping you naked and giving you oral. From that day onward, you were a prisoner to your own student.
Everyday, they’d act like any other person taking your classes, going to college, making friends, as if when your work day ended they didn’t torment you under the guise of love. Making themselves into your lover without your consent, as if you weren’t their professor, as if they weren’t your student. They celebrate your birthday and make you celebrate theirs, you go on dates outside of town so as to not be caught, there are times you almost forget the perverse nature of your relationship - but it always comes back to haunt you. They always come back to haunt you.
They make sure not to show any of the images to anyone for as long as they’re going to the college. They need to keep an eye on you, make sure your looks and personality don’t charm any other student - they’d hate to get rid of their classmates due to your unknowing seduction. They’re so good at acting like they weren’t bending you over your kitchen counter the minute they followed you home, you’d almost believe they were only your innocent, well meaning student if they didn’t send you videos of you two fucking as extra-curriculum activities.   
They also take your courses religiously to make sure to always be in contact with you; you could never escape them, they’ll follow you home and come inside even if you try to shut the door behind you. Whenever you tried changing the lock they'd find a way to break in anyway, on campus they’d sneakily follow you everywhere and harass you. Those who notice, the few that do, think of it as cute, an innocent puppy crush that would fade by next semester. 
It’s not until they gets their diploma three years later that they releases a drive full of the videos and pictures, making sure to add dates and location, everything to prove you were fucking a student. You were a whore of a professor seducing their students.
You’re fired immediately and it’s not long until your friends and family cut contact with you for seducing a poor college student and using your power over them as leverage. Nobody wants to hire you, they’d make sure to document every single dirty detail of your relationship so as to ruin your reputation until you’d be forced to turn to the only person who didn’t turn their back on you.
You can only walk into their open arms as they suggest finally moving in together, possibly getting married, and maybe even having a couple of children now that they have graduated and received their degree.
But even through it all, they still have the audacity to call you their beloved “professor”. 
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Characters: Lisa (GI), Scaramouche (GI), Al-Haitham (GI), Kaeya (GI), Ayato (GI), Jing Yuan (HSR), Luocha (HSR), Aventurine (HSR), Vyn (TOT), Rafayel (L&DS), Ibara (ENSTARS), Eichi (ENSTARS), Yuzuru (ENSTARS), Cater (TWST), Rook (TWST), Kylar (DOL), Whitney (DOL), literally anyone you want really (TT)
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sabokunsmalia · 6 months
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𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, m. list
featuring: levi ackerman x fem!reader plot: she has been a part of levi's squad for more than six years. most likely the most trusted person for the captain, and a best friend. in his mind, she's more but he would not dare himself to show that behind the stoic behavior and the emotionless face, were hidden feelings for a survey corps member. or maybe would he? content warning: nsfw! (mdni!) + fluff + pet names + depression + soulmates & second chance kind of trope, all warnings will be added before each part. hi it's malia: i just started attack on titan, like almost finished the first season and this is a little part that came to my mind while they escaped the titan forest. so. pretty much, enjoy it's going to be multi multi-chapter.
𝐒𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐓:
"We can't fight them," Erwin shouted towards the Captain, keeping his stern gaze forward while leading the surviving soldiers back to the capital. Levi grunted beside him, clenching his fingers tightly around the leather reins. With a broken left leg, he could still endure a fight but it would not be possible to stand long enough to avoid a longer-lasting conflict.
"They're catching up, we can't lose another group," She argued from Levi's left side, squinting her eyes at the commander and captain. The talented, young woman was the last one standing from the squad that once surrounded Levi. Following the Captain with pride and blindly into any kind of battle. Until their inevitable death at the hands of the Female Titan. "Levi!" She shouted, fingernails digging into the leather material of her reins.
Instead of agreeing with her, the black-haired, stoic man simply glared at her, and shook his head. The only answer she received, was spoken without using words. She snorted, glancing over her shoulder when she witnessed how Mikasa Ackerman jumped off her horse and saved a trapped man. "I'm helping them," She stated, letting herself fall back in line to ensure the safe return of more Survey Corps members.
Levi's attentive glare followed her disappearance, scoffing and cursing to himself. The words lost in the wind, they rode against, forcing his head to stare ahead. There wasn't a chance in the world, he would give the Titans to inflict deadly wounds on the talented woman. For over six years, she followed him into each battle, fought side by side with the Squad Captain. A sweet creature, no one believed in. But Levi did, and in the chaos of war, she became his most entrusted person. A thing close to a best friend, but with further interest, he would never allow his emotionless face to show.
"Levi," Commander Erwin stated, sternly staring ahead. "It's been six years, you better get her under your control." Using the leather reins to force his horse to run faster, Erwin did not look back while a small fight happened just behind their backs. The Squad Captain mirrored the resting face of his superior, knowing that he was certainly right about the reckless behavior. But Levi also knew, how courageous she was in battle, how protective of the subordinates and newbies, and how she wanted to place a protective coat over humanity while destroying titan after titan.
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: ↷ part one, responsibility for eren yeager.
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mayullla · 3 months
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Title: Princess rescued by the hero
Character(s): Hero (Named character/original work)
Summary: A Hero arrived to save you yet you could not help but fear him more than the villain.
Tags/Warnings: Princess!reader, male!yandere, general yandere themes, implied manipulation, drabble: 680 words
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It was a classic tale of a princess, a hero, and a villain. The princess was taken away from her home and family by the villain, only to be trapped within an old and dusty castle, and later saved by a hero.
You thought that they were just stories, nothing more.
Your captor was a man who knew how to use both dark magic and the sword. His subordinates were monsters and shadows that he created to rule over the kingdoms and nations. You wondered what you had done to catch the eyes of such a man, but in the end, there was always a hero.
Someone who would save you from the grasp of the wicked man…
"Thank you for saving me." It was hard for you to breathe as you stood in front of the ruined halls of the old castle and stared at the hero's face. The man who saved you placed a hand on his chest as he got down on one knee along with his team. You couldn't see his face as he looked down, bowing at you in a respectful manner. "You are now safe, princess."
Maybe it was best that you didn't see his face, you thought to yourself as you looked at the hero and his group.
You were still conscious of what happened in the fight. Your hands shivered at the thought when the dark lord turned into a dragon to kill the hero’s group, only to die at the hands of the hero who stabbed his sword into the monster’s chest.
You looked to your side to see the dead dark lord who took you away from your home, or what was left of him. He had turned into nothing but a burnt corpse consumed by the flames that he made.
The fight was still fresh in your mind, the spells that were cast on both sides from the dark lord himself and a wizard from the hero's group. Arrows flew at both sides in such a small space, and the crashes of swords still rang in your ears.
"What is your name? I need to know the hero who saved me." You spoke, holding on to whatever little pride you had. Holding yourself back from stuttering after everything you have gone through till now.
"My name is Vale," he said, his head still down. You didn't want to see his face. You were grateful truly that you were saved, and able to return home, but you could not help but become suspicious of the hero.
The hero who saved you was someone you feared.
"Thank you, Sir Vale, for killing the dark lord and saving me from him," you said as you lowered yourself down to take the man's hand, telling him to stand up and asking him if he was okay. “I will not forget you and your group's sacrifices.”
You didn't have any pity for the dark lord, for he was the one who destroyed homes and killed many. You weren't sympathetic to his death. But the moment when the hero stabbed the dark lord in the chest, the determined look on his face held something else.
You avoided the hero's eyes. Avoided looking at the blood splatter on his clothes. You could not help but wonder if there was something that you didn't know here. His eyes held a certain kind of insanity within them. The overconfidence of knowing that he would win as if this whole scenario was staged from the start.
A stage that was to reach a goal.
And you knew that this had something to do with you. When your eyes met his, you were sure of it as he held your hand tightly, warning but also clinging. The love in his eyes was crazed as he looked at you with so much passion. You were familiar with those eyes of his even before he became a hero, and tried to avoid him. Was he the one who created this stage, you wondered by yourself.
You were a fool, as you have placed yourself right on his hand.
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silverbladexyz · 4 months
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*Part 2 is here. Third and final part is here*
Imagine unrequited love with Chuuya.
You didn't mean for it to happen, really. The feelings had just suddenly seized you one day, filling you with a rush of warmth so overpowering that it was certain you could never look at him in the same way again. Whenever he looked at you, with those blue eyes of his that reflected the beauty of the skies and the seas- or whenever he offered his hand to help you with whatever you were stuck on, the very same warmth would erupt in your chest, spreading all throughout your body and ensnaring you in such heat that you would certainly have been crowned the title of Cupid's most lovestruck victim.
And who wouldn't fall in love with Chuuya Nakahara? He was strong, handsome, and rich- three qualities that would've already caught the attention of many people the moment they laid their eyes on him. Despite being somewhat violent and brash towards enemies, he was normally calm and thoughtful, alongside being respectful to anyone he deemed as harmless. Nobody could resist his unspoken charm- with you being proof of that.
But beneath that tough guy mask he showed to everyone was a soul so kind and loyal that anyone would weep at his tragic predicament. A soul that clearly didn't deserve to be trapped in the hellish depths of the Port Mafia, where his hands were stained innumerable times with blood; blood that had no right to belong on the palms of an angel. The very same palms that had held yours as you grew up alongside him all throughout the years, offering a strong and stable sense of support in the abyssal underworld of Yokohama.
You were the only person whom he was softer to. He was still rougher around the edges in the friendship, but you didn't miss the way that he would step in front of you protectively when you met a formidable enemy. Or when he would buy you something you'd only eyed for a second longer, not taking no for an answer as he placed the gift in your hands without expecting anything in return.
Those were only the tip of the iceberg. Chuuya had risked his very own life for you multiple times, even if he had tried to deny it with the statement that he had it all under control. He would also bandage your wounds for you, while scolding you about being too reckless on the mission. You knew that he secretly didn't mind treating your injuries, though. It was what best friends were for, afterall.
It was obvious that you had a special place in his heart.
And he had stolen yours.
You would've confessed to him first, if only he hadn't confessed about something else that made the words die on your lips as soon as it left his.
"Hey, Y/N, can I tell you something? You must promise to keep it a secret though."
You looked up at Chuuya, who was standing with his hands in his pockets. The two of you were currently standing on the balcony of the apartment that the Port Mafia provided for it's subordinates, with the city of Yokohama serving as a witness to the moment between the two of you. A pair of best friends whom shared a bond so deep and precious that it couldn't have been replaced by anything else in the world.
"Of course. You can tell me anything, Chuuya. I promise that I'll take it to my grave." You straightened up from your slouched position on the railing, facing him. Underneath the moonlight, he looked as gorgeous as ever- the epitome of beauty for all mortals to admire. As if in response to the thought, your heart beat sped up, preparing you for the confession you'd tell him after he finished speaking.
Chuuya inhaled a short breath, before releasing it in a quick sigh. You tilted your head, staring at him with curious eyes, despite just wanting to grab him by the shoulders and profess how much you loved him. Surely he must have felt the same way you felt towards him, right? Even Mori had noticed how the executive acted different around you compared to everyone else.
Just say the three words already, you silently begged.
"I like Yasuko."
You blinked.
Time seemed to come to a stop as you wondered if you had heard him wrong. But you knew that you didn't.
"T-The civilian girl that you managed to save from an enemy organisation a few months ago?" You cursed at the stutter, but Chuuya didn't seem to notice. Instead, he seemed to be... shy, almost. The look in his eyes had noticeably softened at the mention of her name- a look that he never gave you in all the years of your friendship with him.
"Yes. She wanted to repay me for my help, and I somehow couldn't say no to her. Then after getting to know her for a few months... I realised that what I felt for her was stronger than what I felt for anyone else. She makes me feel... safe. Warm. Like she was a haven I could always return to." Each word felt like an iron-hot knife being stabbed into your heart, with the blade twisting deeper and deeper into your flesh as you slowly comprehended what Chuuya was telling you.
"... That's great," You forced yourself to say, smiling at him through your pain.
"She deserves someone as gentlemanly and loyal as you. Someone who would never hesitate to put her needs before his. Who would treat her right and make all the other ladies jealous of the pure love you have for her."
Your heart was shrieking at you, pleading for you to stop before all chances you had with him were gone. But you pushed your feelings behind the best-friend mask that you always wore around him. Chuuya's happiness was what mattered to you, even if it meant that you had to suffer for eternity to let that happen.
"You should tell her how you feel. Because I guarantee you that she definitely does reciprocate those feelings." You patted him on the shoulder, before heading back into the room so that he could make his decision.
He didn't know that you had collapsed onto the floor as soon as you shut the door behind him, clutching your chest as it threatened to tear you to pieces because of the pain. He didn't know that you had cried yourself to sleep that night, the hot tears staining your pillow that muffled the sounds of your heartbreak so that you wouldn't alert any of the other residents. And he didn't even need to know, because his eyes were focused only on Yasuko.
He took your advice, confessing to the girl a few weeks later with a bouquet of roses and the finest chocolate that you could find in Yokohama; and just as you predicted, she harboured the same feelings towards him. They were the sweetest couple ever, and your best friend genuinely appeared the happiest that you had seen him. His new girlfriend was nice, polite, and slightly shy- an angel truly fitting for the kind sinner that Chuuya Nakahara was. Hell, you even met her a few times, and any sort of dislike you harboured towards her seemed to disappear whenever she smiled that innocent smile at you. How could you hate her when she never did anything bad to you or your friend?
The butterflies in your stomach now turned to shards that pierced your chest whenever you saw him with Yasuko. Those loving eyes that you had stared at him with were now full of pain and longing, housing a heart of glass that already shattered long ago. Yet you covered it all up with a smile and your usual expression, even when it hurt so damn much.
It was you who stayed by his side when the Sheep betrayed him. It was you who comforted him and assured him that he was human even as he doubted it. It was you who held him close that night when he lost his friends after the Dragon's Head incident. And it was you who never left him ever since he joined the Port Mafia.
But why was it her that he fell for? Someone that he only knew for a couple of months, whilst you had known him for seven years. Seven long years of special camaraderie; of hurt, of loss, and of growth. Things that he could never hope to achieve again with Yasuko.
Was it because you were a killer? A monster that had taken away countless lives, and would continue to do so with no restraint for many years to come? Did Chuuya only decide to stay best friends with you because he pitied you? Or did he laugh about your foolish, helpless self with his girlfriend- his sweet sweet girlfriend that giggled and kissed him happily whenever he pulled her closer in private?
La Douleur Exquise, the French called it. The exquisite pain of pining after someone, knowing that it would never be returned even if you gave up your life for them. How fitting that the language of love would describe your situation perfectly.
Oh, how cruel it was, that fate decided to trap you in it's web of misfortune and laughed at your face as you tried so hard to move on from him.
You loved him dearly, but he would never come to reciprocate that love. How could he, when it was Yasuko that was the one he clearly needed and adored? Just like how a flower in the dark yearns for the light, you yearned for Chuuya to look at you like how he looked at her, even if it was for one second.
But you knew that it was impossible.
Because no matter how deeply you felt about him, his heart would forever belong to someone else.
Someone who wasn't you.
@circinuus @riiwrites @ruanais @sariel626 @chocsra @oldworldpoolhall @yuugen-benni @yasu-masashige @justcallmesakira @heartsfourdazai @i-just-like-goats
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
Text
Title: Undetered.
Continuation of Unrequited.
Pairing: Arlecchino x Reader x Furina (Genshin).
Word Count: 1.1k.
TW: Obnoxious Sapphic Pining, Lesbian Melodrama, and Spoilers for the Fontaine Story Quest. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.
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Truly, you were fortunate to have such a persistent suitor.
And, truly, Arlecchino was lucky to be so desperately in love with someone who so often left their windows unlocked.
Lady Furina – or, rather, Miss Furina now – might not have had the limitless means of an archon, but her manor was still sizable enough to leave convenient gaps between patrolling guards. Vaulting the stone gate was child’s play, climbing to the second floor a task that would’ve been easily passed off to one of her less capable subordinates, remaining unseen as she worked a dagger between the glass pane and its wooden frame until the mechanism gave and she could slip into your bedroom an art she’d perfected over decades of careful practice. She never expected to use her talents for a matter so personal, but still, expertise couldn’t be denied.
Although Furina’s burdens weren’t quite as heavy as an opera star as they’d been as an archon, you still took care of her affairs dutifully – ever the loyal companion despite your favored idol having been proved false. Even now, in the dead of night, you were chained to your desk, your fingertips stained with ink and your quill abused to the point of dullness. It took a moment for you to take notice of the draft, to straighten your back and glance blearily in her direction, but whatever exhaustion stole your attention from her seemed to disappear the moment you met her eyes. You scrambled to rise, to call for your guards, but she was already closing the distance between you, already trapping you against the edge of your desk, an arm caging you in on either side. Too breathless to spare a proper greeting, she took your hand in her own and held it to her chest. If she had a heartbeat, you might’ve been able to hear it racing. “My love, my light,” You opened your mouth, undoubtedly preparing one of the dismissive platitudes you so often offered her, but just this once, she refused herself the pleasure that was listening to your voice. Time was precious, tonight, and she couldn’t afford to be so indulgent. “I’m leaving for Snezhnaya at dawn, and I will only dare to ask this once—” She paused, forced herself to breath. “Come with me.”
Your eyes remained wide and horrified. “Lord Arlecchino.” And then, after a short lapse, “You’re in my bedroom.”
“If you must serve a god,” she went on, unfazed by your shock. “Then serve me. I know you think you’ve found a purpose in Furina, but there is nothing in the world she can give you that I can’t. There’s nothing she does for you that I’m not willing to.” She raised your hand to her mouth, her lips grazing over your knuckles. “You don’t have to love me. All I ask is to be able to pretend you might, one day.”
It was your turn to manage a ragged inhale, now, to draw yourself out of her hold with a quick shake of your head, a dry swallow. “You can’t—” You started towards the door, then thought better of it, taking to pacing as you glared daggers towards the carpeting. “You cannot be here. You have to leave, and you have to make sure no one sees you.”
“I’m not afraid of a few guards,” she cut in. “If I had to fight a thousand men for your hand, I’d draw my sword without a second thought.”
“You don’t understand. She thinks I don’t know, but—” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “She writes these— these fictions, and if she finds that you’ve broken into her estate in the middle of the night wearing—” You gestured vaguely to her, or more specifically, to the pitch-black bodysuit she usually wore to her less scrupulous encounters. “—that, I’ll have to travel far past Snezhnaya before I ever hear the end of it.”
With an airy chuckle, she found her way back to your side. As gently as she could, she took you by the arm, and when you failed to protest, drew you into a delicate embrace. “What are you afraid of, dear?”
You slackened against her chest. “I… I honestly don’t know how to explain it,” you admitted. “It’s just, ever since you first came to Fontaine, she’s been inf—”
This time, you were interrupted by the door to your bedroom slamming open, your mistress appearing above the threshold – already posed with one hand on her waist and the other curled around the handle of a mahogany cane, her eyes shut and her smile wide. “Teyvat’s brightest star has returned!” She declared herself with a turn on her heel – a dramatic flourish worthy of a retired archon. “You would not believe how well rehearsal went, there’s already a—”
Her eyes flickered op, and whatever she meant to tell you died on her tongue as her gaze fell onto Arlecchino. Immediately, you wrenched yourself out of Arlecchino’s arms, rushing towards Furina. “My lady, it’s not—"
“Save your excuses.” Her voice was low, her tone steely. Furina posed no threat to you, much less to her, but Arlecchino still had to temper the urge to step in front of you – if only out of some long buried, sickeningly knightly instinct. “I can see what’s going on.”
A beat passed in silence, then another. Ultimately, Arlecchino took it upon herself to break it. “…you can?”
“For exactly what it is.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, gasping sharply. “My greatest foe, here to use my closest confidant against me. I will not allow it! Whatever you plan to do with them – let me take their place. No matter what you plan to take – my mind, my soul, my body, I insist that you take it from me!”
Her rambling went on, but Arlecchino diverted her attention, sparing you a glance out of the corner of her eye. “She’s got a bit of a crush,” you whispered, smiling apologetically. “This is just how she behaves when she’s nervous.”
Arlecchino’s looked back to Furina. Upon closer examination, her cheeks were flushed, her movements erratic. As she described the torture she would go through for your sake in truly graphic and well-imagined detail, Arlecchino cleared her throat. “With as little respect as possible,” she cut in. “You’re not the one I’m here for, Furina.” She took up your hand, intertwining her fingers with your own and falling to one knee. You pursed your lips, but didn’t protest, content to let the gesture stand – if only for the sake of your mistress. “It’s your confidant who has my heart, despite how callous the hands I’ve entrusted it to may be.”
“But, my lady, my loyalty is with you.” For the first time, Arlecchino watched your expression wither. Your worry – not for your mistress’ safety, but purely for her happiness – would’ve been touching, if her selfishness hadn’t been the cause of your concern. “And… my love, as well. If you’d care to accept it.”
It was a pitiful confession, pale in comparison to even the meekest of hers, but it seemed to be enough. Furina took a moment to examine you, to evaluate Arlecchino where she kneeled. Slowly, she straightened herself, squaring her shoulders. “If that’s the case,” she began, finally, taking on an air that could be easily mistaken for dignified. “Then as the former sovereign of your nation and the mistress of this estate…”
She raised a hand, a near radiant grin painting itself across her lips as she encompassed you both in one sweeping gesture.
“I demand a threeway!”
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artbyblastweave · 5 months
Text
Frederick Sinclair is a really interesting foil to Mr. House. I mean you start digging into this and it's just parallel after parallel after parallel. Start at the high level. House sinks inordinate amounts of resources into saving the city of Las Vegas - not the people, but the city- from nuclear destruction; as long as the stage endures, he can get anyone to wear the costumes. Sinclair sets up an entirely new "community" totally off-the-grid for the sake of protecting one woman, plasters that place with her likeness. House is a visionary with a 200-year action plan to rebuild society in his image, bootstrap space exploration, and construct an interplanetary empire; Sinclair sank everything he had into building the most secure facility possible for a woman who he knew was terminally ill anyway, just to ensure that her last few years lived in the aftermath of the nuclear apocalypse would be as comfortable as possible- there's a fundamental pessimism baked into what he was doing. Both House and Sinclair relied heavily on automated defensive systems and cutting-edge, esoteric technologies to accomplish their ends, but House built his power base on proprietary robotics and computing technology, much of which he personally designed- an outgrowth of his policy of never widening his circle any more than he absolutely has to. Sinclair, in his naive techno-optimism, outsourced his utopia, grabbing flashy third-party technologies like a kid in a candy store- opening a backdoor for the Think Tank to poison his city and ultimately getting everyone at the Gala Event killed when the holograms malfunctioned and went berserk.
Their management styles are inverse. House allows countless abuses to occur under his aegis because he subscribes to a libertarian-when-convenient philosophy where he doesn't much care what the little people do as long as he gets his cut and they don't rock the boat too much- a hands-off approach that fosters resentment amongst his subordinates, lets the White Gloves and Omertas get up to untold levels of fuckery while Freeside languishes and Benny conspires against him. Sinclair, by contrast, had a sincerely-held utopian-straight-edge safety-first micromanagement approach built into the very bones of the casino, he appeared to genuinely give a shit about the safety of the construction crew on the villa, and he was well-liked by nearly everyone who had any direct contact with him- and yet untold horrors also went down under his aegis, because his myopic focus on building the vault for Vera let Dean Domino and the Think Tank run circles around him, good intentions be damned. Their respective interpersonal dispassion and obsession are on display in how they react to betrayal. House's tone never rises above exasperation when it comes time to clean house of Benny, the Omerta Leadership and the White gloves; he treats them as problems to be solved, gears that are slightly out of alignment; By contrast, when Sinclair learns that Dean and Vera have been playing him, he channels the monomaniacal energy he previously directed towards protecting Vera towards the goal of building the perfect poetic-ironic death trap for her and Dean.
There are some other parallels in their personal lives. For one thing they both trusted a pastiche of a 40s lounge singer a lot more than they should have. They both tried to digitize, immortalize their girlfriends- and the discrepancy in how they went about it is telling. House's recreation of Jane isn't terribly robust, and in terms of House's overall project she's an afterthought. She's more a sock-puppet than a person, a sanded-down copy of a woman who died forever-and-a-half ago, forever agreeable, never saying no. Convenient. Only the most superficial visual elements preserved- an illustration of her face on a robotic chassis. Sinclair was obsessive in recreating Vera, preserving her likeness. It's all over the villa, her hologram is everywhere, her voice is everywhere. The terminal in the lightwave lab in Old World Blues reveals that he was still obsessed with getting her hologram right even after the love curdled into hate. All of it a monument to the real woman, and yet in all of it the real woman is still lost, buried under the mythologized projection. He didn't respect the real person enough to let her know that she was dying. A total failure of preservation from the opposite direction. (Except in the suites, where you can hear her very authentic dying pleas.)
You find both of them in their basements. House only looks a little better than Sinclair, but he's got much more of a voice in the narrative. He took steps to make sure he'd be around to tell you what he thinks about everything, fine-tuned the voice with which he speaks to the world, the face he presents. It matters to him that he gets to tell his own story. We find out a lot about House, from House; but for the kind of figure that he is, a shocking amount of what we learn about Sinclair comes from other people, people who knew him or wrote about him. The only image of him you can find is a downplayed element of a larger mosaic. The two documents you find that're written from his perspective have been buried for 200 years, and they're yards from his corpse. And the more recent of the two is an apology. I mean admittedly at the point where he wrote that apology Sinclair was personally turbofucked regardless. If the cloud didn't get him the holograms would have, or the radiation, or, or, or. You can read some level of ego into what he did in the face of that. But however futile it was, he died in the specific way that he did because he recognized that he'd done something awful, and he was trying everything he could think of to correct it. Somehow I find it very hard to imagine House doing either of those things- admitting fault or putting skin of his own in the game to make it right.
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genshin-scenarios · 9 months
Text
meetings, memories, just for you (lyney x gn!reader)
Summary: You’re a Fatui agent who works under Childe, accompanying him on his visit to Fontaine. There you meet Lyney under the guise of your civilian personas, and it’s not until later when he finds out you’re also part of the Snezhnayan group. However… what he’s more worried about is how to win your affections, as he aggravates (feat. Aether and Paimon’s company) about how to court you.
A/N: Many thoughts and head empty… I got this idea while I was doing chores and really wanted to write it out, so hope you’ll enjoy! 
Content warnings: Spoilers regarding context for Childe’s appearance/presence in Fontaine!
Wordcount: 3801
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All things considered, your job as an agent under Childe’s authority was less stressful than that of other Fatui you’ve met. Much of your work involved assisting him with diplomatic paperworks, arranging travel plans, and the occasional combat.
While you’d like to say he’d taken an interest in your talents (a hydro vision bearer with a ‘life-stealing’ fighting style), the truth lies in how he’d found you at his family home while delivering something from Pulcinella. You were a regular recruit, and so was weak to his siblings' demands to join them in the snow and help build a gargantuan snowman. (We need more hands! Could you spare a few minutes?—it seemed like they took one look at you and you’d passed some sort of vibe test.)
To be honest, you didn’t have anything important to do save for returning to your base and waiting for other small commands, thus you ended up joining them. What a surprise it was for Childe then, to return home for a visit and see you there; he’d asked if you were working under anyone in particular, recognising your uniform, and asked you to go hunting with him (also for his family’s dinner, so how could you refuse after they’d given you snacks for the road?) And after witnessing your potential in combat, he offered you a place as his subordinate.
It wasn’t a prestigious role, but you made your way up the ranks with enough practice, and his younger siblings much preferred having a familiar face be the point of correspondence between him and themselves when Childe was in other nations - so here you were. An odd inbetween of subordinate, assistant, and friend (loosely termed, seeing as you did your best to not overstep despite how down-to-earth he was).
When he’d told you to arrange a visit to Fontaine, you could tell that Childe was in a low spirited period. His vision started to refuse his commands, and with every battle he’d leave with an even worse mood - all you could do was wordlessly heal his wounds. Your specialty involved trapping targets and healing your allies based on the damage done to enemies, which your peers used to say was akin to ‘balancing the scales’, whatever that’d meant.
Childe was feeling better after you’d first entered Fontaine, yet when he mentioned giving you his vision for safekeeping you were quick to rebuff that you weren’t going to be able to guard it safely. 
“Why not pay a visit to Aether, since he’s here?” You’d suggested. Frankly speaking, you were just hoping his usual cheeriness when it came to the Traveler would occur. “In the meantime, I will investigate the matter you assigned to me, Sir.”
That was what you were doing, going around Fontaine in hopes to learn more about the nation’s prophecy. Childe felt drawn here after his bad moods began, and so you hoped to find more clues regarding his dreams of a whale’s shadow.
It was easy to introduce yourself as the assistant of an important noble (not particularly false, since Childe had the mora to show for it). From your questions came responses that either thought the prophecy was farce, or divulged whatever ‘insider information’ they could. Some were quite the gossips, so you at least had an entertaining time listening to them.
“And so, it was said the Hydro Archon would be the only one left on her throne, weeping a sea of tears.” The man dramatically said, eyes shut for a moment of silence. “...Though of course, it’s nothing to worry about with the Chief Justice here. He’s very reliable, and would surely find a solution if it was really true.”
“It seems that not many people believe in its warnings,” you reflect.
“Well, there are better things to focus on if you were living here.” He boasts. “You should try watching one of the court proceedings when you have the time. Once you immerse yourself in the drama of it all, surely you will understand.”
“I will remember that.” A smile graces your lips, preparing to part ways now that you’ve gotten his input on the topic. “Now, if you would excuse me—”
“Pardon me, but I couldn’t help but overhear your discussion of the prophecy?” A voice interrupts your conversation, belonging to a young man with violet eyes and a tear-shaped mark on his cheek. 
“We were indeed.” Your expression easily melts into welcome. “Does the topic catch your interest, Mister…?”
“Just Lyney is fine.” He gives you a wink, picking up your hand to kiss your knuckles in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Checking his pocket watch, the man you’d been speaking to earlier bids you both farewell after exchanging pleasantries with Lyney, mentioning that he was looking forward to the ashen-blonde’s next show.
“A show?” You couldn’t help but ask, curiosity pulling you away from your mission just slightly. “Should I be addressing you more formally, as a celebrity of Fontaine?”
“Just hearing my name from your lips is lovelier than any title.” Lyney laughs, and you wonder for a second if saying such words is second-nature to him. He’s quick to take a proper look at you however, and refocuses the topic. “So, you’re a visitor interested in the prophecy of Fontaine - may I ask where this interest comes from?”
You start to walk alongside one another as you converse, the picturesque city passing with your words. “Well… if I have to be honest, it is because of my employer.” You’re well-versed with twisting the truth into a pretty facade. Not many people are accepting of the Fatui. Your exasperated gestures are perfectly authentic however, when you think about the paperwork you had to do for Childe back at Liyue. “I work as an assistant of sorts for him, and take care of menial tasks or passing interests that come to mind.”
“Sounds like a taxing job.” Lyney pauses, contemplating. “Say… If I had a way to alleviate your stress, would you want to try it?”
“So long as it’s not hypnosis,” you joke, but are leaning towards him nonetheless. Seeing it as a sign to continue, Lyney puts on an easy smile and picks up his hat, flourishing and tossing it into the air.
“Keep your eyes on my hat, or you might just miss it.” Deft fingers catch its brim, before presenting it to you with the inside exposed. “Could you check if there’s anything inside?”
Not sure if you were supposed to touch it or not, you instead give it a careful once-over, lowering your head to look closely. “Nope, nothing’s there.”
“Ah, but what’s this?” He moves his hands in wide arcs, flourishing props in the air like a dancer. Taps the hat twice, and a flurry of playing cards rush out and dive towards the ground. In feigned surprise, Lyney moves his hands to catch them. “Oops—”
Only for the cards to catch fire, and out came a pair of doves that flew into the air, up and away.
You don’t think you’ve blinked since Lyney started his trick, which only left you more flabbergasted at the sudden turn of events. When he finally bows and places his hat back on his head, you fight the urge to inspect it once more for some magic pocket.
Collecting yourself, you clap for him, lips pulled into a true smile this time. Lyney’s gaze lingers on the way your eyes crinkle, and he crosses his arms behind his back as he peers at you expectantly.
“How was that?” Eager for your praise, Lyney blinks up at you with the ghost of a smirk. “Did I manage to steal your attention?”
“You certainly did.” Shaking your head, you bow with a hand atop your heart, playing along with his theatrics as you expressed defeat. “With a miracle right in front of me, it’d take a lot not to be in awe.”
A miracle, huh? There’s a twinkle in Lyney’s eyes that you can’t quite decipher. “If you enjoyed that, I’d be happy to perform for you again one day. Or if you’d like to attend one of my shows, I’ll be sure to reserve you a front row seat.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.” While you’re very much interested in watching his performances, you didn’t want to feel like you were taking advantage of this encounter. Plus, you were technically here for work. “...But if I manage to get a ticket amongst your other fans, I’ll make sure to cheer the loudest so you’d know I was there.”
There’s a moment where Lyney seems like he’s about to laugh, but holds it back gracefully and nods at your proposal. “I’m sure that even without that, my eyes would be drawn to you all the same.”
What a flirt. “We never did talk about the prophecy, in the end.”
“I didn’t want to be just another passing survey to you.” Lyney shrugs, giving you a mischievous smile. “But if you’d like to meet up another time, I can certainly divulge what knowledge I have.”
“Was this part of your plan, too?” You joke. “Are all magicians the scheming type?”
“I was simply thinking on my feet.” You didn’t say no, which was enough to keep his spirits high. 
-
Suffice to say, when you returned to your room that night and finished writing up a report to give to Childe, the Harbinger was quick to ask you about the flower tucked into your hair.
A flower that you did not realize was there until Childe had pointed it out, asking if you met someone today.
Cheeks burning at the realization you’d not only walked around the entire city with this, but also that it was a Rainbow Rose associated with passion and romance. There was only one person that could’ve gotten close enough for this; Lyney.
So of course, in a very mature fashion, you swore to yourself to not let this go the next time you meet him. You wore the same rainbow rose as a brooch when you attended his show, which seemed to delight the magician greatly. After a few more encounters, you could say that the both of you were friends.
…Well, somewhere between all of that, you became aware that Lyney and his sister also belonged to the House of the Hearth, which functioned under the Knave. Your superior had an obvious dislike for his colleague, but you put that little fact behind you. (It wasn’t like a person’s superior defined who they were. If that were the case, were you supposed to be as battle-forward as Childe?)
But whether or not Lyney was aware you were also a Fatuus leaves room for guesswork, until one day, without your knowledge, he’d seen you in the distance - about to call out to you in his usual manner until he noticed your company.
It was part of his job to at least be aware of who the harbingers were, even if he didn’t have to know their histories down to a tee. And seeing you, obviously quite familiar with Childe, made a number of conflicting theories jumble in his head.
What was your relationship with the Harbinger? Did you know Childe’s true identity? Were you and him…
Thankfully, Aether was quick to clear up his worries when they ran into each other a few hours later, after noticing that Lyney seemed more distracted than usual. At their explanation of how you were Childe’s subordinate, your explanation of your job finally fell into place.
With one concern dealt with, another arose; if you worked closely with a harbinger feared on the battlefield, were you truly impressed by Lyney’s own tricks?
A part of Lyney’s pride sunk as he overcomplicates the matter in his head, covering his eyes as if to fight off a headache. “Aether, what do I do?”
“What do you mean?” Paimon asks in confusion. “Isn’t this a good thing? Since you’re both Fatui, you don’t have to worry about them being afraid of your history!”
“How can I impress a person that’s seen much more in their life than the average audience?” His words make little sense, but Aether fights back a laugh; this was simply Lyney’s slow acceptance of this newfound information. He must truly hold you in high regard to worry about impressing you. 
“Your magic tricks impressed us,” Aether reminds him. “And we’ve fought a lot of enemies, and gods, including Y/N’s superior.”
Paimon agrees. “Mmhm! And Y/N even apologized to us afterwards, telling us to go easy on Childe after he… ah… The point is, they're nice despite working for that troublesome guy. So… cheer up?”
“I saw them wearing a rainbow rose in their hair the other day.” Aether adds. “That was yours, wasn’t it?”
As if conjuring the image straight into his mind, Lyney’s now covering his face for an entirely different reason. “They’re wearing it?” God, his cheeks are burning.
Why is it that every time he thinks of you, just the memory of your smile is enough to make his brain malfunction?
‘Brother, you know I care about you, but aren’t you worried you’ll never get anywhere if you’re not straightforward about your intentions?’
Perhaps it was time to take Lynette’s advice… and as she’s told him before, there are some things that they don’t have to handle alone, so long as they involve the right people.
When you’re assigned to do an errand with another Fatuus in Fontaine, you didn’t think much of it. While you were capable of fighting and exploring on your own, diving underwater in a foreign nation was probably not a good idea for you to tackle by yourself.
What you didn’t expect however, was for Lyney to be said Fatuus; and your brain immediately makes the link back to Childe’s unusual tone earlier, telling you to take your time while investigating the underwater ruins. (And also to get a cool souvenir for his siblings, if you saw one.)
You’re understandably nervous after Lyney explained how to breathe underwater, saying that once you get used to it, diving in is easy. He’s quick to notice your apprehension even as you steel yourself to jump, repeating to yourself that this was for work.
“...But for now, it would be discourteous of me to just throw you into the deep end.” Lyney’s gaze grows soft, offering you his hand. You take it, trying not to look too relieved that he’s simply leading you in by walking from the shore. “Close your eyes, hold on to me… Alright. You can open them now.”
It’s beautiful underwater, is the first thing that comes to mind.
Lyney watches you fondly as you take in the sea around you; colorful plants, sea creatures roaming, and the wonderful sparkle of sunlight sifting in from the sky.
“It’s breathtaking,” he voices your thoughts, though his gaze is on something else closer to him. Lyney clears his throat, swimming forward, still holding your hand. “While I can’t take credit for this, it is quite a magical sight, no?”
Now that you’ve calmed down, you notice the faint elemental energy emanating from the both of you. The way his hat still manages to stay intact makes the corner of your lips tug. “It is. Thank you for your help.”
You’re about to release his hand now that you’ve found your balance, but Lyney is quick to pout. “You don’t want to keep holding on to me?”
“I don’t want to be a burden.” You laugh, untangling your fingers for the sake of practicality, then nudging his shoulder playfully before swimming off to explore. You can hear his chuckle from behind you as Lyney matches your speed, leading the way to the ruins which may hold clues about Fontaine’s fall.
It feels more like a rendezvous than a mission, to be honest. Lyney tells you stories about the times he and his siblings would come down here, and how Freminet was more familiar with diving, though he’s happy to be chosen to be here with you instead (at your poking, Lyney does admit that this might’ve been arranged with the help of one golden-haired traveler. You’ll have to thank Aether and Childe later on, you suppose.)
Your conversation falls short when your eyes land on an otter, immediately captivated by its cute form and the seashell between its paws. You try your best to maintain some professionalism, but it’s clear in the way you keep glancing back that you’d give anything to get closer and say hi.
With a gesture to get your attention, Lyney leads the way towards the otter, offering it a present to enter its good graces. It tilts its head at the romaritime flower in Lyney’s palm, which then begins to glow a warm amber from the inside with a gentle application of pyro.
Effectively charmed, the otter swims over curiously, making little noises as it flips around in excitement at the sight of the flower’s changing hues. It looked like a shifting sunrise, and you took the opportunity to perform a trick of your own using your vision, manipulating hydro to form tiny fishes that swam around the three of you.
How can Lyney put it… If it was possible to extend this period of time for an eternity, he’d be more than happy to live in this moment forever.
Underwater, there is no one to perform or keep facades for. And with you, a part of himself has always felt more at ease; as if it was fine to spend a moment not as the mystical magician he’s known and adored for. 
While he does enjoy seeing your eyes widen with awe at his magic, Lyney thinks it’s more dangerous for himself to become so relaxed in your presence. Just what would he do if he forgot to put his mask back on once you resurfaced, and the weight of water became too much for him to bear?
Maybe he can figure out a better way to memorialize this excursion; he’s heard quite a bit about preserving flowers in resin, so perhaps there’s also a way to add colors to the ornament to replicate underwater hues.
A few hours pass as you explore together, darting between shipwrecks and ruins, and the occasional battles with mechas or aggressive creatures. Somewhere along the fourth wave of mechanical enemies you were starting to wonder if Childe sent you to a dangerous spot on purpose to - as he might put it - ‘bond over battle’ and impress your crush.
While you certainly didn’t want Lyney to think you were useless in combat, every time you spearheaded an attack felt slightly performative as you destroyed the mechas. You felt like there was a gaze burning into your back. Not one of hidden assassins, but the magician who’d been oddly silent compared to his usual self; as if contemplating something. 
(It would take much provocation for Lyney to admit it was because you looked very cool, and he doesn’t know why he’s starting to get bashful about the way you expertly disposed of the enemies, vision singing with a wonderful glow. It’s almost like a dance - more graceful than violence was allowed to be.)
(In other words, he was trying not to speak unless he was sure his voice wouldn’t come off as unsteady, seeing as his mind was starting to blank at how attractively reliable you are.)
Perhaps if you were on land, Lyney might be quick to join in this little game of impressing one-another. But here, his arrows could only do so much. And while effective, pyro could not travel as far underwater compared to your element. 
He’s slowly realizing that without borrowing the abilities of hydro constructs around the ocean floor, he might’ve been fully assigned as the rescuable maiden in this situation.
While disenchanting, the thought also makes an idea spring into his mind. Before you could turn and tell him you were done gathering samples (and thus you could finally go back to the surface), Lyney casually tells you to hold on for a second, as there was something in your hair.
“Huh? But I didn’t feel anything—”
Surrounded by nothing but open space and marine treasures, Lyney steals your breath away with a kiss that ties a promise from his heart to your fingertips. He decided that so long as you were gracious enough to welcome his presence, he would fold to you like a flower opening its petals, enveloping you in his warmth whenever he could. 
Even with nothing to threaten you here, his hands snake around your waist and shoulder, pulling you closer as if to hide you from the light filtering from above; as if that would take you away from the illusions of magic that he so expertly crafts, for something more ‘real’.
It’s a kiss to tell you that this is real. This moment, the reasons behind his touch and glance, and the fact that he’d very willingly spend hours and hours at the bottom of the sea with you, no strings attached, without a complaint from his lips.
In fact, was it a little selfish for Lyney to enjoy monopolizing your attention in this way? Not having to fight against the bright colors and sounds of the beautiful court of Fontaine, with honest-but-lengthy endearments falling from his tongue as if stopping would mean one less second under your gaze?
You’d never once complained about his lack of talkativeness today, compared to his usual demeanor which presents himself like a spell to dazzle the senses. Never commented on his gestures that feel more gentle than luring; and though both parallels are true aspects of himself, he was starting to think you understood the grandiosity of his character. Lyney the Magician, who steals hearts and does the impossible.
Both statements were true, though perhaps in a more meaningful way now than in the eyes of the public. He can scarcely believe it himself whenever you return his affection, alert but not evasive of his approach.
A week later, a parcel arrives for you. It’s a glass orb with a rainbow rose at its center, with smaller pieces of romaritime petals surrounding it, like glitter falling on an angelic stage.
There are layered traces of pigment in the resin, reminding you of the day you spent underwater. Suppose it was largely successful of Lyney then, for your first thought to be that the rose reminded you of his charm. Not as a motif of allurement, but echoing the kind wishes behind his actions.
You always liked how the roses he’s made you associate with himself were not red, but pink. The latter suits him a lot more, in your humble opinion.
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jubileemon · 3 months
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Hazbin Hotel: The Terrifying Reality of Overlord Domination
Both Husk and Angel Dust are victims of their circumstances, having their souls bound to the will of their overlords. Their experiences mirror real-world issues of abuse and exploitation, where individuals are trapped in cycles of control at the hands of those with power over them.
While both characters are subjected to manipulation and control, the nature and extent of their abuse differ significantly, reflecting the individual sadistic tendencies of their overlords. Valentino exhibits traits of control and abuse. Alastor's sadistic tendencies and enjoyment in inconveniencing Husk are paralleled by Valentino's predatory behavior towards his workers like Angel Dust.
While Husk's servitude to Alastor is marked by manipulation and intimidation, Angel Dust's experience with Valentino is characterized by sexual exploitation and abuse. These narratives serve as a grim reflection of real-life issues, where individuals find themselves trapped in cycles of control and mistreatment at the hands of those with power.
Valentino's Control Over Angel Dust
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Valentino exerts control over Angel Dust through a soul contract, inflicting pain and torture as a means of coercion. His actions escalate to heinous levels, including sexual exploitation and physical violence, as he seeks to punish Angel Dust for his defiance and escape from servitude.
Bound by a demonic contract to Valentino, a moth demon, Angel's autonomy over his soul is compromised. This contract, which he signed under his given name, Anthony, effectively transfers ownership of his soul to Valentino, leaving him at the mercy of the demon's whims. The contract's terms are non-negotiable and enforce a grim reality where Angel must comply with Valentino's demands, no matter how degrading or exhausting they may be.
Husk's Fall from Grace and Enslavement to Alastor
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In contrast, Alastor maintains a psychological grip on Husk, leveraging his vices and inducing fear to ensure compliance. Despite occasional gestures that may seem friendly, Alastor's true nature is revealed in moments of rage, where he threatens Husk with severe consequences for disobedience, highlighting his capacity for cruelty.
Once an Overlord, Husk experienced a fall from power after a losing streak in gambling led him to Alastor. The bet that cost him his soul also stripped him of his status, leaving him in a state of servitude to the Radio Demon. This power dynamic is a stark reminder of the precariousness of status in the underworld.
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The episode 'Dad Beat Dad' serves as a chilling example of the extent of Alastor's control over Husk. When Husk dares to mention Alastor's own soul contract, he is met with uncharacteristic fury and threats of violence. This encounter leaves Husk in a state of terror, illustrating the abusive power wielded by overlords like Alastor.
His immediate threat to destroy Husk's soul if he divulges any information is a display of psychological warfare. The fear instilled in Husk, leaving him a 'shivering, terrified wreck,' is indicative of the abusive power Overlords hold over their subordinates. This incident serves as a reminder that Alastor's charisma masks a deeply sadistic nature, which can be as harmful as the physical abuse perpetrated by Valentino.
The Shared Victimhood of Husk and Angel Dust
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Hazbin Hotel's portrayal of Husk and Angel Dust's situations is a grim reflection of the terror that comes with being under the thumb of an overlord. The show's narrative serves as an allegory for real-world power imbalances and the devastating impact they can have on individuals, making it a poignant commentary on abuse and the struggle for autonomy.
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rookieloveskashi · 9 months
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Is That Understood?
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Part of the ANBU Series Prev → Next
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Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI
Warnings: smut, dubcon, power imbalance, power abuse, degradation, rough sex, rough oral sex, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, cum eating, multiple orgasms, POV reader
Word Count: 4.1k
Summary: After your first mission with Team Ro, you think you did well. Your captain has another opinion.
AO3 Link
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Even by ANBU standards, this mission was a lot.
Your team had already been out here more than twice the expected two-week timeframe, trapped in a game of cat-and-mouse with your target and his protection detail. A few wrong turns and misunderstood tracks had set the team back over a day. The elements themselves seemed to be against you; the harsh winds and stinging rain of the miserable region ruining a good portion of the team’s supplies and morale.
When you finally caught up to your target, the enemy outnumbered you nearly three to one. But like so many before them, they made the mistake of underestimating your captain.
Kakashi Hatake had been a member of the ANBU for nearly a decade—a feat that was practically unheard of. You heard that he’d joined at a young age at the request of the Fourth Hokage, and had been named Captain in practically no time. It was easy to see why. Kakashi was an excellent captain and expert strategist, and he had a reputation far and wide for his ruthlessness toward his enemies. Just a few hours ago, when your team found the target, the enemy had recognized your captain and referred to him as Cold-blooded Kakashi.
You considered that moniker as you smoothed out your bedroll for another night on the rough forest floor, wondering how accurate it really was. It was true that Kakashi wasn't a big talker, but that was the case with most of the shinobi in the ANBU. Still, he was a strange combination of protective and standoffish, known to take on the burden of a fight and insist his subordinates keep their distance. Whether it was for your own safety or just so you would stay out of his way, you supposed you should be grateful regardless.
Honestly, it was thanks to Kakashi’s quick thinking that the whole team emerged from this fight not only victorious but with minor injuries. You had just enough medical supplies to treat the wounds of your two teammates while your captain scoured the perimeter of the crude camp where you would spend the last night outside the village. It would be a long trek back tomorrow, but within less than 24 hours, you would be home for the first time in over a month. 
You were just lying down when Kakashi returned. “Status?”
“They’ll still need to be checked out at the hospital when we get home,” you answered, “but they’ll be fine for the rest of the trip.”
“Good. I'll have them take first watch. You rest and recover your chakra. I'll wake you when it’s your shift.”
“Yes Captain.”
He disappeared as quickly as he'd shown up. As you laid down, you felt a sense of unease rise in your stomach at your captain’s tone. You were hoping he would offer you some kind of encouragement or praise after the long mission and your ability to heal your teammates with only the tools at hand. But maybe he was still angry with you for the vulnerable position you'd been in earlier.
In a foolish attempt to prove yourself, you’d rushed in despite Kakashi’s warning to stay back. An enemy's katana had nearly cut right through your neck, and you’d have been toast if not for Kakashi blocking the weapon and suffering a deep wound on the shoulder. A wound he hadn't even let you examine, never mind heal. His hard stare when you thanked him for saving you kept you from saying much more.
You had been so excited to serve on team Ro, hoping that working with Kakashi would earn you more recognition within the ANBU. At this point, it seemed more likely that you’d be demoted.
Oh well, you sighed and closed your eyes, feeling your waning adrenaline rush finally give way to exhaustion. We still have the journey home tomorrow. I'll make sure I make a good impression.
“Y/N.”
Your eyes shot open, heart racing as you tried to prepare for danger. When your vision adjusted to the minimal light, you saw Kakashi crouched beside you; his porcelain mask discarded, his arms crossed and his face stern.
“Right, my shift…” you muttered, lifting yourself up on one elbow.
Kakashi stopped you with his hand on your shoulder, his grip as strong as iron. “No. Not yet.”
“Then what—”
“There’s something I need you to do.”
Your palms started to sweat under his sharp gaze. He clearly expected you to understand, but you were lost. If it wasn't time for you to go on guard, what did he want?
The blood on his shoulder caught your eye, flooding you with both relief and embarrassment. You should have taken care of his injury before going to sleep, regardless of your low chakra, and regardless of his insistence that you left it alone. It was your job as the team’s medic to heal your teammates, and leaving your captain with a gash like that was unforgivable.
Channeling your healing chakra to gather in your hands, you started to sit upright, thinking he wanted you to get right to work. But to your mounting confusion, he only held you back with more force.
“No, Y/N,” he barked, his eyebrow angled sharply over his dark eye. “Did I tell you to do that?”
“Uh, no, but—”
“You do know that I wouldn't even have that wound if you were better at following directions, right?” he chastised you. “Your insubordination is a detriment to the entire team. Next time it could be fatal.”
Much as you’d been expecting a lecture, your face reddened with embarrassment at his admonition. Silence was easier to handle than this.
“I can't let your behavior continue,” he announced. “We’re going to work on your obedience.”
“Obedience?” you echoed.
“In the field, a squad captain has absolute authority, and squad members are expected to follow without question. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir.”
“Show me.” Abruptly, he put his hands on his thighs and pushed himself to stand at his full height, looming over you. “Sit up on your knees.”
“Wh…what?”
“Don't you know an order when you hear one?” he snapped. “On. Your. Knees.”
You quickly got into position, keeping your eyes on his face to be ready for his next instruction. But this position was beyond distracting. You’d been harboring a crush on the genius captain for a while, and this suggestive placement was making your heart race.
Get a grip, you shouted in your mind, fighting the urge to rub your thighs together. But your mind went blank as his hands went to the fastening of his pants.
His gloved hands moved quickly; one hand flicking open the button as the other reached inside. You felt your brain stutter as he pulled out his cock; pale and thick with veins running from the blunt tip down to the base. The tip was shiny with a small drop of precum beading at the slit. You knew your eyes were as wide as saucers, but you couldn't look away, watching as his hand wrapped around the length and he started stroking himself.
“Now open your mouth. And stick out your tongue.”
You were so mesmerized, you barely registered his low voice. “H-huh?”
“How stupid can you be?” he snarled. “You're supposed to be showing me that you can follow directions. Don't tell me this is the best you can do?”
His harsh tone finally got through to you. You looked up at his face, your clit throbbing at how closely his onyx eye watched you. With that image, the order wasn't even necessary. Your jaw dropped open of its own accord, mouth watering as your tongue pushed out beyond your lower lip.
If it weren't for that mask on the lower half of his face, you were sure you’d be staring at a wide grin.
“That’s better.”
Kakashi took a small step forward, bringing his body close enough that he could rest his cockhead on your pink tongue. He let out a quiet, gravelly moan and pumped himself faster, rubbing the smooth skin of his tip over your tongue.
“Fuck,” he exhaled, the expletive making your core clench around nothing. The taste of his salty skin and precum caused you to drool. You stuck out your tongue a little more and bobbed your head forward, ready to wrap your lips around his shaft, but he buried his free hand in your hair and held you back by your roots.
“Don't act without instruction from your commander,” he barked, twisting your hair around his fingers to maneuver you and force eye contact. “Greedy slut, you want my cock that badly?”
You nodded as best you could, the tip of your tongue gliding back and forth over the ridge of his cockhead.
“I want you to show me that you can be a good girl and follow directions,” he said. “Then I’ll let you suck it.”
Kakashi loosened his grip on your hair and released himself, letting the stiff appendage bob freely in front of your face. “First, kiss the tip.”
It took every ounce of your willpower to resist taking as much of him in your mouth as you could handle. But as badly as you wanted him, you wanted his approval more.
You puckered your lips and kissed him, letting your lips roll over his skin to engulf half of his head. You held still for a few seconds before releasing him with an audible smooch, then looked up at him with wide eyes for your next instruction.
“Again.”
He had you repeat the kiss twice before changing gears, directing you to kiss down the underside of his cock, then lick him from balls from tip.
“Fuck, that tongue,” he groaned, letting his eye roll and his head fall back. “Hmmm, I think I finally found what you’re good for.”
You blushed, embarrassed by how wet his comments were making you. Lust clouded your brain and everything else melted away. He sounded so beautiful, you wanted to listen to him and look at him forever. You didn’t even notice how distracted you’d gotten from your task until Kakashi spoke.
“Don't stop,” he ordered, his hand on the back of your skull pulling your face into his crotch. “Not now, when you’re finally doing something right.”
You went back to work with twice the enthusiasm, worshiping Kakashi’s dick with your lips and tongue—kissing, tasting, and licking every inch and working him up until he was twitching against your cheek at the lightest kitten lick. Suddenly, he held you back with a quiet whimper, his body rigid. You looked up at him, seeing his eyes screwed shut and his jaw set tight. His cock was red and shiny, precum leaking from the engorged head.
He peeled his eye open and pinched the base of his dick, abruptly slapping it down on your right cheek. When he pulled away, a thick glob of precum stuck to your skin and trailed back to his cock.
“Dirty whore,” he exhaled. “You’re just desperate for me, aren't you?”
Kakashi pressed his thumb into the puddle on your face, smearing his fluids down across your skin until his thumb rested on your lower lip. “Eat it.”
You eagerly took his thumb into your mouth and sucked, your cheeks hollowing as you ran your tongue all over his rough skin.
“You’re such a filthy cumslut. I bet you want me to cum right in your mouth.”
“Mhmm,” you hummed around him, nodding and blinking up at him.
With another curse uttered under his breath, Kakashi tugged you back and moved his free hand to grip his cock. He tilted your head to look up at him, then slapped his dick back into your face.
“If you suck it well enough, maybe I will.”
Your body shivered, so eager for him that you couldn't even think straight. Your lust had you paralyzed. It was almost like you needed to take the time to really memorize this moment; unable to process that your most shameful fantasies were actually coming true.
“Aww, are you waiting for an order?” he condescendingly asked, tilting his head to the side. “Looks like you can be taught after all.”
He dragged your head back, putting just enough room between you for his cock to point at you like a predator, locked on its prey. “Alright,” he sneered. “Suck my cock, you little whore.”
Finally.
You opened your mouth wide and guided him in with your tongue. Kakashi hissed and used his grip on your hair to pull you in closer, forcing more and more of his length into your mouth. You whined around him as his tip already prodded at the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex while you still had inches to go.
“Fucking shit—” he hissed, pinching his eye closed. “That feels so fucking good.”
His other hand joined the first in your hair, giving him complete control as he started thrusting against your mouth. You swallowed around him, tightening the muscles of your throat as he tugged you back and forth like a doll. Saliva bubbled in the corners of your mouth, drooling down your chin.
“Messy little cocksleeve.”
Kakashi grabbed your face with both hands, manipulating you back and forth as he roughly fucked your mouth. Curses flew from his covered mouth, muffled by his mask but still reaching your ears. He slowed his pace and looked down at you, still with that patronizing gleam in his eye.
“Show me your tits.”
You pulled the hem of your shirt up, bundling it and your lightweight bra under your chin. Without the support of your clothes, your breasts swung freely, enthralling your typically-aloof captain.
“Look at you. You’re such a slut for me.”
He moved one of his hands from your head down to your breast, bending his back to reach lower and experimentally pinch your hardened nipple. The movement forced his cock further down your throat, making you choke. But it felt so good, you couldn’t help but arch your back to give him easier access, earning you a haughty chuckle. His callused fingers toyed with your nipple until you were nearly shaking. Then he moved to the other, sharply smacking your breast before pinching your nipple tightly.
You wanted him to touch every part of you; to use those fingers over every inch of your skin. As your tongue lapped at the underside of his cock, you couldn't help but rock your hips in search of just a little relief, praying you would find out what those fingers would feel like inside of you.
Kakashi stopped playing with your breasts, opting instead to regain his complete control over your head. With both hands molded to the back of your skull, he pulled you further forward, not even letting you take a breath to prepare. 
“Come on, Y/N. Take the whole thing.”
Tears stung the corners of your eyes as he forced you just that last centimeter closer, suffocating you with his cock down your throat and your nose in his hair.
“Stay right there,” he exhaled, sounding like the personified version of lust. “Learn your place.”
Looking directly into his eye, you hummed your assent—a muffled song to the tune of Yes, Captain. You could see his chest rise and fall as he steadied his breathing. His eye roamed all over you, taking in the lewd scene with a smirk.
“Do you like being my fuck toy?”
Another hum. Yes, Captain.
“You like serving me? Warming my cock in your throat?”
Yes, Captain.
“Wanna give me that slutty cunt?”
YES, CA—
He abruptly pulled himself out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for breath; choking on your built-up saliva and his gooey precum. The tears were fresh in your eyes as you did your best to recover, only thinking of how to be ready for his next instruction.
With a nod his head, he gestured to your bedroll. “Take off your pants and get on all fours.”
Your fingers were clumsy as they worked at your clothes, wanting to follow his order as quickly and efficiently as possible. His pants dropped to the ground and he kicked them off, impatience nearly visible under his skin. As you positioned yourself on the bedroll, you regretted that you wouldn’t be able to look at him anymore. But when he knelt behind you—the heat of him pressed against your inner thigh—regret was the last thing on your mind.
With one of his hands gripping your thigh to hold you still, Kakashi ran the index finger of his other hand along your dripping folds.
“Pretty…”
The compliment was barely a whisper, probably not meant for your ears at all. But that one single word made you preen like a schoolgirl. You arched your back to present for him further, and you were sure you heard him chuckle.
“Get ready,” he exhaled, removing his finger and replacing it with the head of his cock. “Gonna fuck you like the whore you are.”
Kakashi snapped his hips forward, burying himself inside you and stretching you wider and fuller with that one thrust than you’d ever felt before.
“AHH—”
His free hand flew up to cover your mouth, cutting off the sound. You whimpered as his body weight pushed down on you, his mouth right by your ear. “Quiet, Y/N,” he whispered, “or the others will hear you.”
You nodded, biting your tongue as Kakashi pulled his hips back just to pound into you again. He kept his hand over your mouth and you could smell your wetness that was still sticky on his fingers. 
“Or maybe you want that,” Kakashi challenged you in a hushed tone, beginning to fuck you in earnest. “You want them to know your captain is balls deep in your wet little cunt?”
The idea made you shiver as you pictured what you must look like right now; messy hair, tear-stained cheeks, mouth covered by Kakashi’s gloved hand. Eyes rolling back in your head, lids fluttering with every one of his deep thrusts.
“No, no you'll be quiet for me,” he smirked. “You understand how important it is to follow your captain’s orders now, don't you?”
Your fingers dug into the ground below you, threatening to tear through the material of your bedroll. Horrifically lewd sounds continued to try and work their way past his hand. You weren’t trying to test him, but you couldn’t fight it; not when his formidable dick was dragging so perfectly along all your most sensitive spots.
You tried your best to be silent, but you hardly saw the point between the sounds of your pussy squelching with his thrusts, his hips smacking into your ass, his breathing short and broken in your ear. 
“Mmmm you’ll do whatever your captain tells you, won't you? So eager to please me; it’s pathetic.”
You threw your hips back into him, meeting his thrusts with messy, slippery contact. Your hot arousal was coating your inner thighs, your body prepared with a seemingly endless supply to allow your captain to fuck you for as long as he wanted.
“Fuck you feel so good,” he panted, his hips stuttering. “That's right, you're doing so well now, taking my whole cock every single time. That's my good girl. I knew you could follow orders.”
Those praises uttered in his low, thunderous voice had you trembling. You couldn’t believe how quickly he’d gotten you so close to finishing, but the pressure below your navel was so high that you were whimpering into his hand.
“If you cum on my cock, you’re mine,” he grunted. “Only mine. Is that understood?”
“Nmhmm!” You shook your head as your walls fluttered around him, suddenly clutching down and holding him in place as your body convulsed. If not for his hand over your mouth, you were sure you would have screamed out his name paired with every curse you knew, and maybe a few new ones because there simply weren’t enough to carry you through this incredible pleasure.
“Fuck!” Kakashi whined. “Fuck that feels so good.” He released your mouth just as you were coming down from your orgasm, only to reach between your legs and fiercely rub your clit. “Do it again,” he growled. “Cum again. Right now.”
Your body complied automatically. Euphoria again sparked through your body and a guttural sob tore its way out of your mouth. You hadn’t completely recovered, yet here you were: inner muscles squeezing down on his cock which continued to bully past your defenses, despite your sensitivity.
“Ohhh you’re gonna help your captain cum now, aren't you Y/N?” His fingers gripped your hips and yanked you back and forth desperately, “G-good—fuuucking girl.”
Kakashi slammed your ass into his hips, the tip of his cock bruising your insides in a frenzy before flooding you with hot, sticky cum. He kept your ass flush against him, his cock reaching further into your body than you thought possible. You tightened around him as he dumped every bit of his pent-up seed in your submissive cunt, unwilling to lose even a drop.
You felt him twitch with his last efforts to empty himself. A mixture of sweat and cum covered the backs of your legs, sticking the two of you together. You heard his heavy breathing in your ear, the weight of his chest on your back nearly causing you to crumble.
In one motion, he leaned away and pulled out of you, leaving you a shaking, trembling mess. You couldn’t even catch yourself when your arm gave out and sent you dropping to the ground, legs sprawled out flat behind you.
You heard Kakashi moving around behind you: the swishing of his clothes as he got dressed and the sound of his footsteps.
“So, um…clean yourself up,” he stammered. “Then, uh, take the northern perimeter. For the…for patrol.”
You were sure he had left long before you had the strength to smile and sigh, “Yes…Captain.”
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…
You hurried down the hall to the Hokage’s office, heart pounding with every step. When your fellow ANBU shinobi gave you the message that Lord Third was summoning you right away, you felt your stomach drop. Did one of your teammates know what happened in the woods? Kakashi hadn't said a word to you the entire trip back. How much trouble were you in?
What’s the punishment for getting fucked by your captain, anyways?
Another ANBU met you at the door and announced your arrival to the Sandaime, who called for you to enter. You forced your legs not to shake as you stepped into the office.
Lord Hiruzen sat behind his desk, with Kakashi standing beside him. Kakashi wore his porcelain mask over his face, and he stood as still as a statue while the Hokage spoke.
“I’ve reviewed the team’s report on your last mission,” he began. “It turned out to be quite the challenge, wouldn’t you say?”
Which part, the assassination, or the fucking?
“Our team faced a number of challenges,” you agreed, “but we were able to eliminate the target and complete the mission.”
“Yes, a job well done.” The Hokage nodded with a smile. “According to your captain's evaluation, I would like to formally assign you to team Ro, permanently.”
Against your better judgment, you looked at Kakashi. He remained stoic as ever, and you would have given anything to see his face.
“Really?”
“According to this report, you did a wonderful job tending to your team,” Lord Third continued. “Team Ro has been short a member for a while now, and I think you will be the perfect fit.”
“T-thank you, Lord Hokage.”
“Now, both of you go home and get some well-deserved rest. I’m sure I’ll have another assignment for the team soon enough.”
“Yes sir.”
Sufficiently dismissed, you turned and walked out of the office, Kakashi’s nearly silent footsteps behind you.
“Congratulations,” Kakashi stoically offered as you neared the end of the hall.
You waited until you were sure you were out of earshot before you stopped dead in your tracks, turning and blocking Kakashi’s path with your body. You reached out and lifted the hound mask from his face, then leaned closer, enjoying the surprise behind his eye and the flush of his cheeks.
“All thanks to you, Captain.”
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