#so if you like that myth this is the chapter for you!

[remiivu]

Ghostly Companion-- Chapter 3

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[Ao3]

So sorry for the wait! My ribs are really tender right now so I took an extra day to avoid moving my arms as much.

This is mostly a lot of introspective word-vomit (and adorable Mr. Crawling!) Have fun and enjoy!

When you woke up the next morning, bleary-eyed and limbs heavy, you didn’t quite register the weight on your stomach until it moved, long strands of hair falling directly onto your face and into your mouth.

“Pff–” You spit out, eyes blinking open to see your brand new companion looking delightful and far too energetic for whatever time in the morning it is. 

“Hello!” He greeted happily. “You ∎∎∎!” 

“Good morning…” You manage to groan out, gently pushing the brunt of his weight off your chest and watching as he rolls to your side.

You sigh, taking a few spare moments to fully wake up before hauling yourself up, carefully unwinding the gray arms wrapped around your body. Your morning routine was quick, methodical, and you hardly realized when you finished draping your futon on the balcony to air out until you approached your now-empty tatami mats and only saw Mr. Crawling sitting down patiently. 

You… weren’t quite sure what to do now. Breakfast, maybe? Do ghosts need breakfast? You don’t recall ever seeing Mr. Crawling eat anything at all during your short amount of time together, but maybe that was because his world was a barren wasteland. You certainly saw other evidence of human-eating ghosts in his world. 

Would his behaviors be similar to all those myths and legends– or at least to his fellow ghosts? Getting… human flesh to feed him wouldn’t be easy, if he liked it at all. But, you’d much rather him feast on someone else rather than on your own flesh if your hunch was right. You doubt he’d do much else than nibble at an unimportant limb, but you also never experienced a grumpy Mr. Crawling– or any version of him that wasn’t incessantly pleasant and sweet. He could go crazy, and you, the idiot who housed him and let him cuddle up against your vital organs, would be first in line to his stomach. 

That won’t do. You made it out of a near death-match once already. You’re keeping yourself and your lovely prize of a companion safe and happy. Even if it means having to go elbow deep in blood. While somewhat chilling, the thought bringing up those unfortunate memories, you find it easier to think about knowing that the blood would be from someone you don’t even know. 

An unimportant stranger. A stupid stranger.

Well, finding a person would still take some time. A part of your mind wanders back to the mountains where numerous people are said to have gone missing throughout the year– something to do with another ghost wearing a raincoat and umbrella. An urban legend, but one that’s pretty widely believed in these parts of the city. You don’t find it to be true– after all, you’ve been stuck there before and came out perfectly fine each and every time, so it must be other peoples’ lack of survival skills that killed them out there.

Which was great, honestly. You’d be able to chalk everything up to a nonexistent being. People wouldn’t bat an eye at a nice, young, and good-looking person such as you wandering around in cute looking clothes and ‘empty’ hands. Harmless. A naive adult who was curious and ‘stuck close to the trails.’ You could do that. Besides, it would only be for a few hours every… few weeks, maybe? You imagine harvesting human flesh to be something like cattle– one body would last a very long amount of time in the deep freezer.

Yeah. That would also fit into your schedule, so it all works out. The tedious part would be just finding a loner you could convince to take a run through the mountains to prove their bravery or some random trait like that.

Well, that part can always come later. For now, it was time to settle your needs.

You were hungry, and so you went off to your kitchen after giving Mr. Crawling a brief pat on the head, digging through your fridge for anything you could make.

Your fridge was still full of fresh foods from a grocery trip taken before your whole descent into that world that shall-not-be-named, and it was almost offensive at how nothing really seemed to care about your disappearance, but you could take it out on the food once it gets on a plate. 

You fished out some eggs, rice, and random toppings, combining it into one mixed up bowl and placing it on your floor table as you turned on the television.

A quick offer of a mouthful of your food to Mr. Crawling resulted in his curious face sniffing and staring closely at it before taking the bite– and swallowing it after a few swishes in his mouth. No chewing.

Huh. So, he liked raw eggs? 

You got up to grab two more, swiftly taking your seat on the floor cushion and holding one up in front of his face.

He smiled, inspecting it somewhat. “Object eat?” He asks, poking delicately at it.

You nodded. “You want?” You asked, making a move to show him how the egg was part of the stuff he had eaten.

When he nods, you crack the egg against the counter, holding it above his mouth, ready to break it open. He was briefly– and rather adorably– confused at the action, but opened his jaws wide, showcasing rows of razor sharp teeth.

You didn’t need to pass biology class to know that they indicated a very carnivorous diet. 

You cracked open the egg, letting it drop into his mouth and watching, with mild repulsion, as he swallowed it whole, looking happy and satisfied as he licked his lips.

Well then– raw eggs would tide him over until an actual meal (if he even needs one). Good to know. 

His mouth opened wide once again as you discarded the shell and cracked the second one open, letting it plop into his mouth and go down the hatch.

That was actually kind of fun. A few years ago, you briefly considered getting chickens of your own until you realized just how many eggs a small flock of 3 could produce in a week. Mr. Crawling seems to be an excellent excuse to get some– not after moving out, of course. Well, you doubt anyone here would care if they spot some fluffed up feathers every now and then.

After that brief breakfast, you steeled yourself to continue your normal everyday activities– as if nothing happened.

And you also needed to make an elaborate lie about where you were the past day. You had no doubts that, if you told the truth, you would  be shipped off to an institution and have your companion exorcized within the next 24 hours.

___________________________

Your friends, very concerned, simply would not stop asking you questions and berating your decision to split off from the main group– as if they hadn’t dragged you to the bravery challenge against your complaints.

There were 5 people you needed to comfort. And, there will be about 15 people you’ll need to apologize to for your inability to work– paired with the cordial, expensive gifts and handwritten letter to your boss begging not to be fired. 

Annoying, annoying, annoying.

You patted Mr. Crawling’s head as you searched up the nearest sales. 

At least he was cute. Like a little, loyal puppy. He was so low maintenance outside of his potential human-flesh needs and his desire for attention– which you could most definitely work with. It was nice and relaxing being with him, not having to worry about all the tiny societal rules you had to follow with everyone else. And, now that you were back in your own world, it felt refreshingly nice having someone depend on you instead of it being the other way around. 

You had power here. And it was nice.

“You mad?” Mr. Crawling ask, cheek pressed up against your neck as he looked over your shoulder at your laptop screen, fingers flicking through ads and discount codes with sharp tap tap tap’s that indicated your irritated mood.

“Me not mad you,” You mumbled, hand reaching up to play with his hair. It was nice and soft now, your conditioner having worked its magic. 

“Humans.” You muttered, not particularly in the mood to elaborate.

“Humans?”

“Mhm,” You hum, gently rubbing soothing circles into his scalp and watching, satisfied, as he leaned more of his weight against you.

So, so cute. You couldn’t get enough of him.

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[Ao3]

[citrusraindrops]

Male abusers often call themselves victims; The spread of the myth of (equally prevalent) female abusers directly harms female victims, because it means their partners' lies are believed by police and other authorities. And the myth of anti-male bias in courts stymies female victims as they try to escape their abusers.

I'm going to recommend once again Why Does he do That? by Lundy Bancroft. In chapter two, Bancroft writes:

Even if abused men didn't want to come forward, they would have been discovered by now. Neighbors don’t turn a deaf ear to abuse the way they might have ten or twenty years ago. Now, when people hear screaming, objects smashing against walls, loud slaps landing on skin, they call the police. Among my physically abusive clients, nearly one-third have been arrested as a result of a call to the police that came from someone other than the abused woman. If there were millions of cowed, trembling men out there, the police would be finding them. Abusive men commonly like to play the role of victim, and most men who claim to be “battered men” are actually the perpetrators of violence, not the victims.

From chapter 12:

A remarkable number of judges grant restraining orders to abusers to use against their victims or grant mutual orders, which validate the abuser’s claim that his partner shares responsibility for causing his scary behavior ... I have also worked with many [probation officers] who buddy up to the abuser with a wink and a nod, who bond with him in the belief that there exists an anti-male bias in the court system and who signal him that he needn’t take the abuser program seriously by saying things such as: “Just show up to your required number of group meetings and we’ll get you right off probation.”

From Chapter 3:

The abuser’s highly entitled perceptual system causes him to mentally reverse aggression and self-defense. When Tanya attempted to defend herself against Emile’s life-threatening attack, he defined her actions as violence toward him. When he then injured her further, he claimed he was defending himself against her abuse. The lens of entitlement the abuser holds over his eye stands everything on its head.

One of my areas of specialization is court-related work involving abusers who are physically violent or who abuse their children. I frequently encounter court personnel who say: “Well, she accuses him of abusing her, but he denies it.” They then drop the matter, as if the man’s denial closes the case. They also tell me: “He says she does the same things to him, so I guess they abuse each other.” This kind of denial and cross-accusation tells us nothing about whether the woman is telling the truth. If the man is abusive, of course he is going to deny it, partly to protect himself and partly because his perceptions are distorted. If he were ready to accept responsibility for his actions in relationships, he wouldn’t be abusive. Breaking through denial and minimization is one of the main tasks facing an abuse counselor. Most of the men in my groups admit to some abusive behavior —although they don’t see it as abusive, of course— but they acknowledge only a small portion of what they have actually done, as I learn when I interview the abused partners.

Abusive men push and push against a woman's boundaries in a relationship, breaking her down, and when she tries to defend herself against abuse or speaks out in any way he uses it as evidence that she is irrational and that she is the abuser. We unfortunately saw this happen to Gabby Petito and Amber Heard. In both cases when the victim was pushed past her limits and showed emotion at being abused, it was used as evidence that they were abusive.

Domestic violence is more common in lesbian relationships than it is in heterosexual relationships.

the point is that in heterosexual relationships men and women are equally likely to initiate DV. When examining female only relationships they are more likely to suffer violence than male only relationships.

Researchers theorise women initiate violence more often because society tends to ignore female violence and punish male violence harshly. They see no downside. This effect is magnified in female only relationships.

This info is not intended to put anyone down.

To add to this, heterosexual DV is still going to be more common than lesbian DV based purely upon the number of heterosexual couples when compared to lesbian couples. This isn’t to put down lesbians, it’s a statistic that I’m not too sure if it’s still liable or not.

So, apparently I need a frequently asked questions page ... or something.

You are wrong anon; these statements are factually incorrect.

Domestic violence is NOT more common in lesbian relationships. (And the larger post for context.)

Men and women do NOT have similar rates of domestic violence. (See, also, this post.)

People support/fail to support male/female victims and condemn/fail to condemn male/female perpetrators at similar rates. (Also see this post and this post.)

There is also no evidence of a criminal sentencing disparity caused by sex.

"This info is not intended to put anyone down." -> Yes, I am sure you came to this blog where I discuss the pandemic of male violence against women to claim that, against all substantial, overwhelming, evidence to the contrary women are actually more violent than men to be ... friendly.

Male violence in heterosexual relationships is higher in both absolute and relative terms (see above).

"it’s a statistic that I’m not too sure if it’s still liable or not" -> I'm guessing you meant either "reliable" or "viable", in either case, it was never reliable, or viable, or true. It's a homophobic, misogynistic myth perpetuated by malice and poor understanding of statistics.

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Mortal combat readers

Origin.

Notes: this is basically mortal combat readers back story and it leads up to when jason get taken by the joker. So this is apart of the lucid dreams series. This is just kinda telling stuff about reader its not really wrote to be a chapter. It'd just some stuff I wanted you guys to know about reader.

Warnings ⚠️: child abuse ,and Murder.

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

Your grandfather was Lin Kuei. The great and feared warrior. And he married your grandmother. Now Your grandmother was much sweeter than your grandfather. She'd never kill or hurt anyone. And that's how she raised your mother. And yes your mother could fight ,but she didn't kill. And your grandfather was happy about that. He didn't want them to become the monster he was forced to be.

And yes living in a world where killing is basically necessary is hard when you don't kill. But they managed because your grandfather protected them. But as your grandfather was getting older and new and younger enemies came. He could only do so much.

So he made made a deal with prince hanzo. The young prince made a deal that if your grandfather trained him and bi-han he'd protect his wife and daughter. Feeling forced, your grandfather agreed.

As time passed Hanzo and your mother grew closer. But this was a problem because Hanzo was already engaged. The weeks turned into months and Hanzo and Bi-han grew stronger.

And your grandfather watched as there eyes began getting colder. And the power that was hidden inside finally came to light. But just like there power was noticeable so was your mother's growing stomach.

Now your grandfather was furious and your grandmother heartbroken. And when asked what your mother wanted to do. She said she wanted to tell Hanzo. Now Your grandfather knew it was a bad idea that the young prince already having a bastard would stain his reputation. But he allowed his daughter to make her own decisions.

Even though the princes powers were fire his eyes remained cold when your mother told him that she was pregnant. Your grandfather stood behind her daring Hanzo to make a wrong move. But the prince took the news surprisingly well.

Your mother stayed inside the palace walls even when your grandfather had said that it wasn't a good idea. She wanted you to have a father. Time passed and Hanzo didn't spare her a glance when she'd see him training. Or walking in the halls. So she gave him space and ever asked for anything.

Then you were born. And Hanzo was no where to be found . So instead it was your grandfather who was holding your mother's hand while your grandmother delivered the baby.

Now this was hard. Everyone knew that first born boys developed their fathers powers and first born girls there mothers. That's why girls were normal forgotten or just not important.

Because boys had always inherited the power. Or atleast first born boys did. Then Hanzo came and you had just been born. Your grandmother was wrapping your small body in a towel when Hanzo took you from her grasp. He scoffs as he sees what you are and mutters quietly "its a girl." Now everyone felt relief you wouldn't have to be put through traditional training or anything you could be kept hidden. But something caught Hanzos attention. Your whole body was hot. Like fire hot. And you don't seem to be crying. And then he saw it. Just for a second but he saw it. And so did your grandfather. Your eyes had went red like fire just like his did.

Your mother was confused why was Hanzo looking at you like you were a myth? Or some weird creature? You were a baby! No you were her baby! And she demanded to hold you. But Hanzo quickly rejected that idea. You were now a Hasashi. You were his. Not theirs. His.

Your mother looked at him in shock screaming and cursing every word imaginable, but Hanzo didn't care he took you and walked back to the palace. And even though your grandfather wanted to so badly stop him he couldn't because he knew that Hanzo was telling the truth. You were his. Not theirs.

As you grew your mother saw less and less of you. You were known as a bastard but you were strong and well respected for a six your old. You were put through intense training. Training that no child should be put through.

When your mother did get to see you , you were covered in bruises and cuts. And your mother's eyes filled up with tears when you were the one trying to comfort her. "Please don't cry mama. It really doesn't hurt." You say but the cut on your back is huge and your slightly shaking but still You try and comfort Her. Your grandparents had no choice but to watch as you grew with bruises and cuts constantly on your body. And your mother never slept with ease knowing you were constantly in pain.

Your mother loved you with her whole heart and she looked at you with such love that it was impossible deny that she loved you. You were her star ,her light. And it killed her to watch you grow with such pain.

You had inherited her looks you were almost a clone of her. But your power undeniably came from your father. But it was a little diffrent. Unlike your father's fire. Your fire was purple ,and bright. And it burned like hell.

You were the perfect prodigy. Your only flaw? You were a bastard. And that was practically wrote on your back anywhere you went . Maybe that's why your father treated you so cold. You were both a gift and a curse.

Your body healed quickly and maybe that's why your father never felt bad when you'd get badly hurt during training. But your mother did. And after you had nearly died from coming back from a mission with you father. She had enough.

Foolishly she went to talk to your father. And he had sent her back with scars that wouldn't heal. Now that had hurt you more than anything that he had did to you. Hearing your mother cry and scream when your grandmother had tried to help her had hurt you....But your mother was crying not just from the pain ,but because she knows that he had did much worse to you and yet you took it like it was nothing.

That was the final straw. Not only your mother had, had enough so did your grandparents. As you sat in the small room that you had still hearing your mother's screams ,your grandfather rushed in. "Pack your things we are leaving." He said and you look at him confused. "Now." He demands and he leaves no room for argument as he leaves the room. You hurridle Pack your things and before you know it your running away.

Your grandfather's carrying your weak mother body,and your grandmother holds your hand as you walk through the snowy woods. No one utters a word. Because everything has been decided.

You were going to meet a friend of your grandfather and he was going to transport you to another universe. Did you believe that that was going to happen? No. Did you say something about it? No.

You had no right to you were a child. And after about a week of traveling. You find this friend of your grandfather. But you should have been ready. But you weren't. And just as you were walking through a portal that your grandfather's friend had made your father's well trained friends appear. Your grandfather and mother were already through the portal. Leaving just you and your grandmother alone with your father's friends.

Your grandmother pushes you behind her. And your father's friends are quick to react. But you hold your sword out. Ready to defend your grandmother. But foolishly your grandmother pushes your sword out of your hands. And you look at her as if she the dumbest person in the world.

Because in that moment she is. But she looks at you with such love as speaks her final words. "You don't kill....Don't let them make you into a monster. You are so much more." She says. And and you can't look her in the eyes because a sword is cutting right through her stomach. And blood is dripping down her chin. But still she offers you a soft smile as she pushes you through the portal.

And you watch as the portal closes right after ,but you see how your grandmother falls to her knees and how your father friends try and jump through the portal.

Arriving at the other side of the portal your mother and grandfather stand with there jaw clenched and a fire in there eyes. They saw. They saw everything.

You drop to your knees before your grandfather and your breathing is so bad that you can't see right. "I'm so sorry grandfather...I wasn't fast enough i..I couldn'-," You try and explain but your grandfather cuts you off. "It's not your fault, child." He says and yet the pain you feel says otherwise. You nod standing up and stay silent. taking a good look around yourself trying to ignore the tears that want so desperately to fall.

"We're are we?" Your mother says and you try to ignore the way her voice breaks. "Gotham." Your grandfather says. And you wonder how he knows but you don't dare to ask.

Months pass and the wound of your grandmother passing slowly heals. You have to many things to worry about. Like learning the costums of this earth. And the language. Soon enough your mother meets Bruce wayne.

And your whole life changes agian. You have a more luxurious life and you even get to watch as bruce brings home children and those children become your brothers. Some you have a decent connection with like dick and Tim who you don't really care about. Because they don't bother trying to be nice to you. And some you absolutely hate. Like Damian because he thinks he's just so much better than you. And then there's one. Who absolutely adores you. Jason. Jason was your favorite for many reasons but the biggest reason was because he loved you. He actually cared. He didn't ignore you or act like he was better than you. He looked up to you. But as bruce brought kid after kid. You watched as your mother's attention slowly drifted away from you. And that was fine at the beginning. The were younger they needed a mother more than you.

But as time went on it seemed like your mother didn't have time for you like she did the others. You were no longer her baby. Now her baby was damian. And you could understand hes the youngest. But you're her biological child shouldn't she love you more?

And even tim ,dick and jason had a special place in her heart. And she looked at them with such love and devotion. And you realized that's how she used to look at you.

And before you knew it. It was like you were just a constant reminder of her past that she tries to forget.

So you gave her space and time to heal. And you wanted to prove that you were worthy of her. That all the pain and scars that she had because of you were worth it. You just wanted for her to look at you like she used to. But she didn't.

So you focused your time more on school and training.

Now just because you went to a new world doesn't mean your training stopped ,no. Your grandfather made that clear that he would train you every day. And you did train every day with your grandfather.

Now your grandfather found a home of his own. He wouldn't rely on bruce or his money. He was a man and he made that clear. You looked up to your grandfather and in some ways he was like your father. And he was more present in your life then your mother.

Now you and your mother has gotten into an argument about something dumb something you can't even remember what it was about. But she had sent you to your room.

And you sat there sulking and feeling nothing but anger. Then you hear a knock on your door. "Who is it?" You yell not wanting to get up. And jason replies from the other side of your door.

"It's me. Can I come in?" He says. But your angry and you don't feel like talking. "I'm busy right now." You say coldly and you know it's a lie. Your doing absolutely nothing right now ,but you still don't want to talk.

"Please. It's important!" Jason says but you couldn't care less. And you answer him with such a rude tone. "I said I'm busy. I don't want to talk." You say and you can tell he's stunned you've never talked to him like that. You've always talked to him kindly. And for a moment you feel bad but you push those feelings away decideding that you'll just apologize later.

You hear him mutter a quiet "okay." Before he walks away. And looking back now you'd give anything to go back in time to stop him. To tell that you do want to talk to him. To apologize for how you spoke to him. But in that moment you don't know what's going to happen.

So you go to sleep without a care in the world. But your woken up by your mother shaking you. And when you open your eyes you see the tears in hers. "What's wrong?" You say confused.

"The..the joker has jason.." She says. And suddenly you don't feel tired or angry anymore all you feel is fear....

___________________________________________

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @dhanyasri , @kore-of-the-underworld , @i-adorehannah

[goth-mami-writer]

{~Feel Sick~} (pt.4)

• Leon Kennedy x f!Reader work•

《⚠️TW: plot contains themes of age gap romance (reader is 18yo), obsessive behaviors, mild instances of stalking, coercion, emotional manipulation, and graphic smut. Please interact with discretion.♡》⚠️

Find previous chapters here..

-> Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3.

《 When you stood up, Leon put the foil condom in your hand and he said with his forehead meeting yours as he took a step closer to you, nearly putting you chest-to-chest with him as your eyes lowered to his bare waist being revealed,

“I'm gonna show you how to put on a condom. Just in case your dumbass boyfriend wants to pretend he doesn't know how to do it.”

“Do boys actually bring rubbers?” You asked curiously with your face still burning, your words so close to stammering, “I've heard…guys say it feels different and that's why they won't use them.”

“Don't let him make up bullshit like that to get out of using rubbers, okay?” Leon said with a glance upwards that almost burned into you like a glare to assure that you'd heard and understood him and you nodded.

He guided your hand to hold the rolled condom as it slid over the bare shaft that you could only stare at in awe. You'd never seen a boy naked in real life. Sure you had maybe seen your boyfriend change when you snuck to meet him in the locker room after school but seeing a man was far too different. Your hands shook to touch him and he held your forearm to ease your nervousness.

“Like that?” You asked unsurely and Leon nodded after a small tug to make the latex comfortable around him,

“Yeah, baby, that's fine. Now, lie down for me. Get under the blankets if you have to. I don't want you to get cold.”

Together you both nestled into his small cot bed that was narrow but just big enough for both of you to move without being hindered due to the lack of space. You looked up to Leon as he gently opened your legs to lay them open and he was propped up on his knees when you asked vulnerably,

“Leon, is it gonna hurt? I hear about some girls bleeding.”

His face churned quickly in disbelief of a myth that wild in nature to actually hinder young girls away from having sex and he scoffed quietly to promise you that he was there to keep you safe,

“Sweetie, if there's a girl out there who's got a guy breaking her in so rough that she's bleeding- someone needs to leave me his address so I can kick his fucking teeth in.”

You blushed deeply to hear him sound so sincere and protective when it came to your safety and you felt as his palm then became rested to your cheek. He looked down to you with a softened look away from his harsh words and he spoke as if making a vow between you,

“You're never going to get hurt with me, okay? We're gonna go so slow to let your body get used to it.”

Your blush never faltered, instead it only burned hotter when you saw him look down. Gently, He reached down just to make certain you were still wet enough and when he looked back up, he gestured you close with a nod of his head.

He kissed you softly before allowing the kiss to press deeper and you held him unsurely by his shoulders until he melded you against him more natural and close. His hands caressed up your legs, letting his fingertips brush against your sex amid the kiss that was already making your hips churn. He was making it feel like he wanted this just as much as you did and your heart began hammering to feel more.

When the kiss became parted, you watched as he aligned his hips and he rested one hand above the small shelf hanging above the headboard of the bed to steady his weight. He wetted his lips again and looked to you with a murmured words that broke through the dark,

“Just relax, sweetheart. This will be the worst part, okay?”

“Okay.” You whimpered needfully and felt as his weight became more intentional upon you.

He hovered above you closer and finally you felt the head of his cock now softly stretching the entrance to your untouched womanhood. Leon's face tensed slightly when he felt just how tight you really were and he tried to remain gentle as he pushed deeper to finally drive his tip inside of you.

Your lip trembled from the way your body fought to remain still amid the pressure and taut feeling of being penetrated but Leon calmed you with another soft kiss, whispering to tell you to breathe deeply so he could pull out.

“Don't pull out.” You asked him in a whimper that undoubtedly saw this as a sign of dislike but Leon clarified with a half smile that found your eagerness too sweet.

“Baby- I've gotta get you used to me. I've gotta keep pulling out. Now, keep still. You're doing good.”

He pushed inside of you again, only giving you the head of his cock to feel as your body still adjusted but your pain was soon leveling to allow the pleasure to begin chilling your skin. Your mouth began to open with warm drags of air that begged him for more.

You became a little greedy and began rolling your hips into Leon's muted movements inside of you and quickly he caught on with a narrowed glance down at your eagerness to have more of him.

“Heh-” Leon scoffed with a smirk he tried to contain for your sake,

“You'll get more when you're ready, sweetheart. You're gonna hurt yourself doing that.”

“I can take more, Leon.” You argued with ragged breath to try and convince him to ease up on his incessant need to be gradual with you during this.

Leon's face reddened to hear you beg but his cock also throbbed to know how much you liked it already and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from biting his lip. His voice became rough with a gravelly tone when he said lowly and soft,

“Just be a good girl and trust me, okay?”

Upon hearing him redirect you like that of a protector, it felt that the chemicals in your brain were suddenly altered in the very next second. Your eyes blinked in realization that something was different and it felt ingrained-..coded inside of you that Leon had been your fantasy all along.

But this was only the beginning.

He began giving you harder thrusts that were still contained from the shallow snaps of his hips. He was claiming you but softly in the thought of your virgin endurance. You watched his face begin tensing and his lip beginning to stiffen from the feeling of your body hugging him so tightly as he moved. His mouth let go of the first huff of pleasure and your face felt hotter than lava to watch.

“Leon…” You whimpered for the first time in your own first taste of pleasure that was finally catching up to you beyond the tension leaving your body,

“Do you like it?”

He swallowed hard, seeming as if he was afraid to admit it but he nodded with a heavy chug of air,

“Yeah, babygirl, you feel good. You're finally relaxing for me.”

You moaned under your breath, making him jerk his hips instinctively to the sounds of you becoming so comfortable with softer, sweeter moans and Leon murmured sexily under his breath as the movements between you intensified,

“Mm, yeah. I know it feels good, baby. Go ahead and cum for me. Try holding your breath and closing your eyes. You'll focus better, okay?”

You began doing as he said, closing your eyes to focus your sensations on exactly what he was giving you, more urgent and intentional with his cock moving inside you deeply now that you were comfortable. You held your breath and felt your core slightly softening to begin the ascent.

Leon felt your body constricting in that bodily, carnal way that could only indicate just how near you becoming to a climax and he grinned cockily with his lip bitten. His weight was hovering over you protectively still as you were being taken,

“Oh, good girl-” He praised breathlessly, “Keep focusing, sweetie. You're so close. Ugh- I can feel it, beautiful. Let me give it to you.”

Your hands that were pressed to his chest fell flat to the cot sheets and then tightened into wadded fists that clung amid the pursuit of your bliss. You were seconds away and your back arched to warrant the perfect angle of your needing g-spot and his slick shaft still pumping inside. Then, with another half breath that escaped from your gasping lips, you told him as you began to tip over the edge.

“Leon- i- I'm coming..yes- y-yes.”

His smile grew at its widest proudly and he encouraged your strongest, fullest orgasm by slowing his drives. Only adding depth and stimulation with small thumbing caresses to your pulsing clit that hummed in delight.

“That's my girl. Yeah- there she is. Just for me.” He purred huskily until his own body began to tense and with only a few extra pumps of his hips, he quickly rose up with an urgent push away from the mattress and he cocked his head in gesture for you,

“Come here.”

You raised slightly to watch him pull the condom from the head of his cock and his cupped hand stroked against his bare shaft to completion. He said your name as his biceps tensed upon the arrival of his orgasm that dribbled down his locked knuckles now and you watched with another sultry moan as the white beads of his enjoyment glistened against him and partially onto your bare stomach.

He panted heavily just the same as you and he was surprised when you suddenly pulled him into a deep kiss. Within seconds, the clarity of finally achieving that high was damning him now. He finished your kiss but he felt no intention of being that affectionate again with you.

He felt…different. Everything..felt different.

Did you feel different? He wondered. Surely..you knew that..this was just a favor? Like a hand-off that was one time and never again just for the other person's benefit. But you were kissing him differently. Like a girlfriend….kisses her boyfriend. He recognized it in an instant and he had to stop.

He pulled away and asked after clearing his throat mutedly, “You uhm..you feel okay?”

“Yeah-” you said with a satisfied sigh that quickly warmed into a mischievous grin,

“Think we can go again? I'm game.” You asked daringly, making Leon laugh to keep the atmosphere light and free of any awkwardness that he felt was haunting the room around you now.

God, what had he done, he thought as he cleaned his hands and buttoned his pants. This wasn't right. Not at all. One beer or the whole damn case, this wasn't even…justifiable.

“It's getting late, kiddo. I don't want your dad to kick my ass for having you out like this. Let's get the boat home so you can sneak to bed.”

You felt like an arrow had struck you, heart first, when his demeanor suddenly became so despondent and murky. He was becoming hard to read, on purpose almost. Usually, he never blatantly avoided eye contact but he was now as he handed you your clothes from the floor to help in getting you dressed.

When you both came back up on the deck, he dropped down to the driver's seat infront of the helm and cranked the engine to begin speeding back to his own dock.

His eyes stayed forward as the wind billowed his hair as his leg bounced somewhat uneasily as he maneuvered the wheel of the helm. You thought about grabbing your jacket since the wind was so chilled but there was something else on your mind and you couldn't sit here and ignore it.

He regretted it. Clearly. And you needed to know why.

“Leon?” You asked over the moving waves and the air whirring between you as you sat behind him and he turned when he became snapped out of the guilt ridden headspace he’d found himself in.

“What is it, baby-” He asked before backtracking to refrain from calling you any more pet names tonight and he corrected himself to only call you by your name.

You swallowed a heavy, iron lump in your throat to hear him take back his words and your suspicions were confirmed before your question even became asked. Your head shook and you swallowed the entire question altogether before his lake house became visible on the dark horizon ahead of you.

When the boat became docked, you slipped back on your shoes, lacing them in the torturing silence between you and Leon gathered his keys to swing them into his pocket before moving off deck to tie off the hull safely. But when he saw you beginning to jump over onto the dock, he stopped you with an almost panic in his tone when he asked you to stay.

You froze to hear him stutter on his words, something he was never known for doing and he began carefully, as if the topic needed to be handled with a graveness due to how badly he felt,

“I- listen…don't-.”

“I'm not gonna tell my dad, Leon.” You said after listening to him fumble over words for another minute and he scoffed in relief, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and then looked to you with that same glimmer of protection from before,

“You're not….sore or anything, are ya?”

You shook your head, telling him in a whisper that he was very gentle the entire time and he felt even more relieved to know you weren't hurt. But the guilt was hurting him. It sat in his chest, weighing down like stone dead in the center when he remembered you as a girl.

His best friend's fucking daughter.

Pigtails in her hair and Barbies in her backpack. God, what was fucking wrong with him?

Before he thought he might tear up from anger pointed at no one other than himself, he told you in a groggy murmur to get inside and get some sleep. You then agreed, figuring this goodnight would be in shorthand anyhow.

How could he act like that? Like he didn't just make you see stars for the very first time and treat your first time just like a princess being deflowered and made to feel special? Your heart ached and your feet thudded heavily to the wooden dock as you lugged back inside, trying to be quiet.

Your uncle Leon wouldn't treat this like it didn't matter, right? You asked yourself over and over before your eyes even dared to close. It was real, wasn't it? Those people in movies talking about the connection you have to someone taking your virginity.

Your hands covered your mouth as you lied in that dark guest bedroom and you sobbed to realize that having sex had to mean falling in love too and now you were in love with someone who you could never have. It was the only understanding your heart could find and make sense of from the hurt in your chest. You loved him, only wanted him forever.

And you didn't care if your parents got in the way.

Meanwhile, Leon finally left the dock for the night until something caught his eye. He turned quickly to realize you'd left your jacket on the backseat behind the helm and he wanted to take it up to your room so you'd have it for tomorrow. But he knew better. He didn't need to be in your room..or probably all alone with you..at all.

If not, ever again after being some fucking stupid like this.

He reached over to place it in his own things, figuring there'd be a right time to return it to you. And to have this much needed discussion about what…usually happens when two adults have sex..but cannot possibly, capably date one another afterwards.

Yeah, this would go well, he thought with his head shaking as he returned to the house. When Hell freezes over.

[darlingpoppet]

Where The Dead Forget — Chapter 8: Glory

Hades Gameverse Memory Loss AU | Achilles/Patroclus | E | Chapters: 8/22 | Words: 87,923 (Ch 8: 16,680) words)

Chapter 8 Summary: A treatment of the Scyros episode from the Achilles myths. Patroclus is called upon to honor his allegiance to war, and Achilles is keen to join him, for the sake of love and glory. His mother Thetis, however, has different plans.

Excerpt:

“Father,” Achilles began, “We have been told there are tidings you wish to share with us.”

“Indeed,” Peleus said. “I have called you both here—however, these are matters that primarily concern Patroclus.”

Next to Achilles, Patroclus’ bowed head lifted.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Peleus answered him. “I have just gotten word of a disturbing incident out of Sparta—a grievous crime in violation of the sacred customs of hospitality. Prince Paris, son of Priam of Troy, has abducted Queen Helen, the wife of Menelaus, son of Atreus. And since Helen’s former suitors from all over our kingdoms had sworn by oath to honor and protect their union, King Menelaus, along with his older brother, King Agamemnon of Mycenae, have called upon all those men bound by that oath to assist in ensuring Helen’s safe return to her rightful place.”

Achilles turned to Patroclus, astonished by this news. Patroclus, however, did not seem to notice him. He lowered his head once more, closing his eyes as a small, knowing smile appeared on his face.

“Ah,” he said simply.

“They intend to wage war against Troy?” Achilles asked, turning back to address his father. “And you mean to tell us that they wish for Patroclus to join them? Because—“ he blinked, quickly putting the pieces together, “—because he is among those who made the oath?”

“That is correct,” Peleus answered.

Achilles turned again to Patroclus. “I did not know of this.” He hoped his tone did not come off as aggrieved, even if he did feel a considerable degree of shock.

Patroclus looked back at him, his expression solemn, but strained.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to keep any more secrets from you. The truth is, it is something I simply did not think would ever come to pass, so I had put it out of my mind completely. I was so young then—not even ten—I had petitioned for Helen’s hand at my father’s behest.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I did not have a choice back then… and it appears I do not have a choice in the matter now, either. So I shall go, and honor my duty. I suppose since I am no longer a prince, it is simpler this way. I have no army of men at my command, so I will be able to leave at once for Mycenae on my own.”

Achilles shook his head.

“What are you saying, Pat?” he exclaimed. “What in all of the heavens and earth makes you presume that I wouldn’t come with you?”

Patroclus’ eyebrows lifted, eyeing him seriously. “I presume nothing. You are not bound to this war,” he said.

“But I am bound to you, aren’t I? You are my dear companion, and my duty to you is just as important as your duty to myself. If this is something you must do, then of course I will be by your side to protect you, and keep you company. And it does not matter that you are not a prince, without an army to call your own. You are a Myrmidon now—one of us. If you have no contingent, then you may share mine, and together we will muster the most splendid army in all of our kingdoms!”

Peleus, who had been listening to their conversation all the while, appeared delighted. He grinned handsomely.

“A magnificent plan, my son,” he said. “Of course, the kingdom of Phthia would be honored to do right by Patroclus, and extend its means to assist the Atreides brothers in their righteous cause. The both of you shall secure glory and victory for yourselves, and for us all. How particularly fortunate you are as well, Achilles. A man could not ask for a finer gift for his coming of age. You should be very pleased.”

Achilles nodded, flushed with pleasure and excitement. “There, Pat, you see? We all love you. And I don’t just mean those of us here in this chamber. Every one of us in Phthia.”

Patroclus eyes darted between father and son, both of them smiling widely at him with warm enthusiasm. At first, he appeared almost stunned by this, but then he bowed his head once again, his eyes glistening.

“Thank you,” he murmured softly, his voice tight with barely suppressed emotion. “I am grateful.”

Read the rest here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43292178/chapters/150227206

Previous Chapters: 1. Drown | 2. Grief | 3. Grace | 4. Weakness | 5. Together | 6. Guilt | 7. Known

[yapperina]

3 days until new rafayel chapters... i can almost feel the influx of angsty chardeath!aus in the air.... i need them (but unfortunately in a very specific way)

[szynkaaa]

I hope yall know that I am working on a DO/SWO x OC fanfic now, featuring my OC Oz

this is how down bad I am for the monkey king.

Shameless plugging in my AO3 account, will be posting my fic here on tumblr and also over at AO3

[imminent-danger-came]

Can we take a moment to appreciate how many hats SWK manages to keep crammed on his head in lmk?

That man was doomed by the narrative, is mourned by the narrative, is and was haunted by the narrative AND is haunting the narrative, all at the same time! And lmk isn’t his story, and he doesn’t think of it as his story, and he doesn’t want it to be his story, but it’s also exactly his story, just a little to the left, and he is trying to remove himself from this new story, but also can't escape it because this isn't his story but also it is, and he's taking steps to ensure this don’t end up like his story, and is accidentally contributing to problems that are making it like his story all over again as a result. What a character!

To quote Anne Carson,

"To live past the end of your myth is a perilous thing".

I think, strangely enough, most characters in Lego Monkie Kid are living past the end of their myth (jttw). You have Wukong who is the only original pilgrim still alive and around, you have Tang, Mei, Pigsy, and Sandy who are all reincarnations of the pilgrims (supposedly), and then you have all the antagonists who try and continue their stories in their own way. DBK was freed from under the mountain, almost killing his wife and son in his continued pursuit of world domination. LBD escaped her prison early, continuing her plan for a perfect world which ended in her defeat, her end. Spider Queen refused to accept the end of her empire, and ultimately was killed by LBD for it. Azure Lion had been sealed in the scroll, and after being released immediately tried to continue his rebellion, his hubris, martyrdom, and refusal to change becoming his downfall.

I think in Wukong's own way, he does something similar—falling into old habits and becoming his own undoing. His search for the samadhi fire was exactly what Macaque was upset about in the 4x11 argument:

"You're the one always running off! Searching for more power, or more sources of immortality: you're the one who wouldn't quit while we were ahead!"

MK earlier in the special makes the point "Why didn't he just stop, right here? He was already so much stronger than anyone ever needed to be." to which Macaque replies, "Wukong didn't think so, he always thought he had to be stronger—more immortal." And that's what he does in s2 isn't it? He still isn't strong enough. He can't defeat LBD, so he has to go find the power that will make him strong enough to do just that—and Wukong finds the samadhi fire. Which in turn leaves MK behind, and has him relive his life's story again.

Like, this dude is CRAZZZYYYY

[harpieisthecarpie]

to every entity populating online book and writing repositories with ai garbage: i hope the crushing weight of your inadequacy becomes all-encompassing and suffocating in a way that not even sleep allows you to escape

This includes, but is not limited to, ai pantomimes of:

Picture books

Audiobooks

Fanfiction

Anything going onto a free library resource

Characters, done by feeding actual writing to a 3rd party site

Scripts

"True" stories and "facts"

[gncrezan]

you are objectively correct. foa is amazing. thank you for introducing me to this Masterpiece. it feels like a warm hug playing it.

IS IT NOT JUST!!!!!! foa just sticks out to me as being a comforting game, just because it feels so loving towards its 'outcast' cast, who are all so incredible!!!! the kindness they show towards the pc, and how eventually the pc slowly joins their chosen family !!!! it's got a very lovely slowburn element to it too, and the ending feels earned, but still open to what's next !!!!!!!!!!!! i need foa 2 fr and i'm so glad that i got you to play it omg <3 :)

[thedreadvampy]

sorry I'm on one now. Narnia is one of my Big Rant triggers.

but like. I would be lying if I said I didn't love Narnia

(everything except the Horse and His Boy, which a) even as a tiny kid made me uncomfortable with how fucking racist it is (literally there is ONE. ONE. character of colour who isn't evil, selfish, greedy and violent. even when you're 5 and white and don't really understand racism it's like. sorry there are just no nice people in this whole country? and every Narnian is lovely?) and b) is just fucking DULL partly bc of the 2 dimensional racist caricatures populating the world)

but I can't pretend for a second that it isn't specifically built around a Christian theology that's explicitly racist, hierarchical, supremacist, colonialist and The Bits I Like Least Of Anglicanism

and my FAVOURITE books in the series (except the Silver Chair which tbh is WAY less theological and way more mythology-nerd) are the first and last, which are by far the most explicitly Christian. even more so than TLTWATW.

and I can just about stand by the Magician's Nephew bc it's mostly just a mix of Christian creation myth and CS Lewis's sci fi interests in the esoteric and multiverses and it honestly feels fine. but my all time favourite most iconic Narnia book is The Last Battle and I just. cannot. justify it for a second from a political or philosophical standpoint.

it's got it all bc it's the book where Lewis is like ok hold up let me lay out explicitly what my theology is. and what he thinks it's important to say is:

Almost all Muslims are bad and evil

They worship Satan by doing Bad Evil Deeds to please him

There are a couple of Good Muslims who do good deeds. they need to be brought to the light, understand that the voice calling them to do good deeds is the Christian god, and they too can achieve the kingdom of heaven

Some people will use Christianity as a mask for exploitation and mistreatment. They are bad and their faith is false (ok fine)

...and they're doing that because they're CONSPIRING WITH THE EVIL MUSLIMS TO OPPRESS GOOD CHRISTIANS

...and THAT'S THE ONLY REASON ANYONE WOULD TELL YOU THAT GOD AND ALLAH ARE DIFFERENT NAMES FOR THE SAME GOD. because they're either conning you or because they've been misled and can't really think for themselves.

DID I MENTION. THAT MUSLIMS ARE EVIL AND TRYING TO BRING DOWN CHRISTIANS.

and other than the GOD AREN'T MUSLIMS JUST THE WORST of it all, he also goes back over to more fully explain several points he's made throughout the series, such as:

white Christian public school kids are the god ordained leaders of the world and attempts to think otherwise are heretical

god places people where they need to be to serve his purpose

free will is largely an illusion - your only choice is faith or chaos, and as a godly person your actions are preordained

the problem is though. he's kind of a really good character writer? and in The Last Battle he pulls out most of his best classics (hi Reepicheep! hi Frank! hi Jill!) and gives us a whole wealth of really fun new characters (Tirian and Jewel, Emeth, Puzzle, Shift, Griffle and Ginger are all just SO FUN) and it's such a solid adventure. for me it's hands down the most FUN Narnia to read and an effective and affecting end to the series.

but like. god its unjustifiably fucked philosophy is baked into every single character and event. it's so hard to ignore. it's my favourite book in the series. it's the book that makes me angriest. it's everything right with Narnia and everything wrong with Narnia. I like it cause it asks me to engage critically with Lewis' philosophy and I hate it cause it requires me to engage critically with Lewis' philosophy.

in conclusion, Narnia is a land of contrasts. also occasionally brownface.

[aroacettorney]

when will aup sidestories return from war and stop leaving me bitter about how the main story ended

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

guy who thinks writing 4k in a little over 24 hours is plausible even though the first 4k of this book took 29 days to write

[commanderantilles]

finding myself intrigued with the tower of swallows and the lady of the lake, but like academically…. we r in the fucking danger zone y’all.

[mejomonster]

Horrified to say I may just try an experimental writing style for me and see how it fucking goes

But I really hate rewriting in a different way later ;-;

But I also just. Really want these scenes written down, physically existing instead of just in my brain. However they come written out, at least they'd BE WRITTEN

[timeisacephalopod]

I've been reading Work Won't Love You Back by Sarah Jaffe and I highly recommend, it's a great read so far 👌🏻👌🏻