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madamechrissy · 2 days

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Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you - in this chap it's Satoru Gojo x mistress, Nanami x you It's messy and will get messier :)

♔ Warnings: Sex, infidelity, mentions of past self harm, panic attacks, cheating on both ends, cruelty from Duke Gojo. OOC. ANGST. Say hello to Mr. Nanami hehe. Gojo is TERRIBLE still, you're warned

♔ Word count this chap: 7.8k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

♔Part Two - ♔ Playlist ♔ Masterlist

Part Three

The next day, you had your Nanny help you dress into a simple blue dress that hugged your curves just right, but wasn’t too revealing. You had your hair up in a neat bun, with little ringlets framing your face, along with a little bonnet that has a pretty blue ribbon wrapped around under your chin.

“You look stunning, Lady Gojo.” She says softly, and you smile at her in the mirror.

“Thank you, Nan. I feel more… determined this morning. I shall have a good day, no matter what.” You say with a little smile, and she hugs you tight, you hesitantly head down the grand, winding staircase, and when you turn toward the door you bump right into Satoru’s hard body.

“Oof!” You nearly fall, but for some reason he catches you, his arm wrapping your waist before you careen on your backside. You gasp, looking up at him then, and his face is soft for just a moment as he holds you, as he looks at your face carefully, then lower. “I’m so clumsy. I’m sorry.”

He eases you to stand, adjusting his own blue suit that he is wearing, along with a brocade vest and elegantly tied cravat. His trousers are clinging to his well formed thighs, along with a glimmering pair of hessian boots. You may despise him but the man clearly dresses impeccably, something you also do, though he’d likely never admit such things.

“You are quite clumsy indeed. Off to town?” He asks, he’s brushing himself off as if to get the touch of you away. You nod nervously, looking down a bit, fiddling with the lace on your dress.

“I am indeed, do you need anything while I am out? The modiste is right by all sorts of shops.” You ask, earning a raised brow, pursed full lips… his eyes raking over you cruelly. You tense.

“I need nothing from you but for you to not exist, perhaps.” You gasp then, stepping back at the insanely harsh words, from nothing. He sighs, blinking a bit, running a hand through silky white hair before looking at you, then when he sees your tears, his haughty expression changes.

You say nothing, as you feel your chest pounding with your heart’s rhythm, your throat constricting. Composed and perfect, how!? How when you try so hard to be kind and he so casually destroys you, destroys that positivity you’d cultivated this morning. You tremble as you fight your tears, but soon they’ve overtaken you, and you’ve turned away, clutching your throat as it wracks through you.

You’re damn near hyperventilating when he has a hand on your shoulder, that burns you and fills you with disgust. “I shouldn’t have said that, are you…” You turn to glare up at him through your tears, and it’s the first time you see emotion in his face, his eyes swirling with a thin film of moisture. “I shouldn’t have.”

“I try so hard… every day… to just… to just…” You can’t breathe now, and you can feel the blood pressure rising, you can feel your fingertips go numb as your lungs refuse to work.

“Please, let’s sit, you’re-”

“Hands… off…” You’re practically wheezing now, but Gojo doesn’t remove his damn hands, he’s trying to lead you to sit down on the steps, and you’re smacking at him through the blurry vision of your tears.

“Can I get you something, you don’t look good. You-”

“You… don’t… care. Let me… not breathe…” You feel like you’ll faint then and there, as your hands press on your throat, and Gojo is gripping your shoulders, turning you around then, before you know it he’s yanked at your corset strings, loosening them, and you finally get a breath, leaned over the rail, shaking.

He’s rubbing you right between your shoulder blades as you sit on the step in front of him, trembling as oxygen comes back. You hate his touch, you hate him, you hate him so much. “Breathe.”

You want to laugh, but you can’t manage to.

Breathe as if it’s so simple.

It’s quiet as he’s rubbing your back, and it feels… calming, and you hate it, hate his touch, with his long, elegant fingers brushing bare skin. “I’m quite alright now, you may go. Do not let me ruin your day.”

His hand pauses its gentle brushes, now one is sliding down to your shoulder, and his exhale makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “You lace your corset far too tightly, it’s digging into your back.” He makes you tremble as he runs his touch down the red criss cross marks left on your delicate skin.

“I have to make sure I don’t look bigger to you than I already do to you.” You whisper harshly, and he laughs, dark and husky.

“I already said that wasn’t true. Don’t expect me to repeat that.”

“Yes, well. Why not let me stop breathing, it would solve your problems, wouldn’t it?” You turn then, chest heaving as your body greedily sucks in breaths. “You wouldn’t have to look upon my face again.”

He blinks a bit, lips setting in a terse line as his jaw clenches, hands falling down to his sides. “I shouldn’t have said it that way.”

“Is that one of your half ass apologies again? What have I done to deserve any of this, I ask again. Any of this.”

“You need to calm down, you’re all red again.” He’s touching an overheated cheek, so you smack his hand away, earning a more typical glare from him.

“There were times I wished I didn’t exist.” You rub that scar then, looking away in the distance, your heart starts to slow down finally. His eyes dart to the action and he takes your hand in his, looking down in confusion, you yank it back quickly.

He gulps now, eyes locked there, looking visibly more pale. “I did not mean I wished you dead. I meant… not in my life.”

You blink back that emotion, wishing you could fully hide your reactions, but he pushes you until you’ll break. “I also wish I wasn’t in your life, Duke.”

You both sit there, hatred and anger lingering between you, forcing you to stand then, swiping at your face. “You cried.”

“Imagine that. Even I have a breaking point.” You adjust your dress then, as he stands, tall and looming over you.

“Turn, I’ll fix them looser.” You want to argue, but you cannot tie your own corset, so you oblige, and he begins to tie them, firm but not too tightly, deft fingers working each ribbon. “Corsets are nonsense. I don’t enjoy them. Too much work to make a woman naked.” You laugh humorlessly at that, as he keeps lacing you up.

“Well good news for you, you’ll never have to take one off me.” You quip, making him pause, stepping just a little closer, sending shivers down your spine.

He clears his throat, continuing on now. “That’s true. Thank God for that.”

You blink in anger, struggling to hold it in. “Indeed. I’m sure I’m quite hideous to you, aren’t I?”

He says nothing for a moment, hands on the ribbons of your corset just paused there, as you both breathe heavily in the entryway of the Manor. “I have not seen your body to make such judgments.”

“I’d never show you, fret not. Imagine, the first man that sees me naked tells me how disgusting I am. I’ll make sure the one who does finds me beautiful. Ah!”

He ties it tight finally, and just stays there behind you. “So eager for another man to see you naked?”

“No, I’m not, but I know the one I choose will find me beautiful. Not passable, or adequate.” You turn now, looking up at him, seeing the anger in his gaze. “Imagine if every time I saw you shirtless I said ‘unattractive’.”

He scoffs at that. “Tch, you wouldn’t, who would?”

You scoff then, smiling a bit. “Who would say that to me if they saw me topless? I assure you, nobody would.”

His eyes dart back down then, to your breasts, pushed high and full, tantalizing his gaze, but they then trail back to your pretty face. “You’re awfully confident about such things.”

“Yes well, you won’t ruin that for me too. You already have ruined my life. You will not take the confidence I built, hard as you try.”

“An abundance of it.”

“So men can have it, but women cannot? You wish for a simpering little chit to beg ‘oh Satoru, please call me pretty!’ That must be why you enjoy Miss Catherine so bloody much, and why you hate me.” You’re putting the back of your hand to your head, simpering, and earning a sharp laugh and a scowl.

“You expect men to fawn over you, as they always have, just like Lord Geto did last night, hmm?” You smile as you remember just how much Geto did think you were beautiful, and Satoru’s eyes narrow at that.

“No, I expect kindness and not cruelty. I expect to have a morning where I’m not told to not exist.” Gojo looks down, his broad shoulders hunched. “All I asked was if you needed something. You’re the cruelest person I’ve met, and you thrive in it.”

His cheeks turn red, as he looks down at your lips, eyes lingering where you've left teeth indentations from biting so hard. “You don’t even know me.”

“You don’t know me. And you never will, by your own choice.” You push past him then, and he stops you with a hand on your wrist. “What!?”

“Do you have the money I left for you in your room?” You laugh at that, a bark of laughter really, why does he insist on lingering and hurting you more and more!?

“Yes, I do.”

“You may also put anything you want on my credit. Jewelry, or shoes, ribbon, whatever you require.”

“I won’t use your money for more than necessary.”

“I’ll not have my wife with a bare neck, and there’s a masquerade coming. Purchase a mask and jewelry accordingly.”

You sigh, looking down at where he still holds your wrist, big hand taking the delicate thing over. “Fine, then, I shall do so.”

“Very well.” He lets you go slowly, but he lingers there, like the pest he’s becoming “Are you fine to go out in this warm weather after nearly fainting?”

“What do you care, it could eliminate your problem. You’d get my insanely high dowry and I’ll be gone.” You smile coldly back at him, his mouth is open, his pretty eyes sorrowful.

“I-”

“Goodbye, your grace. Tell Catherine hello when you fuck her for me.” You walk out then, slamming the manor doors behind you, pressing your back against them and struggling to come to.

Just when you think he cannot get more cruel, he does, and he’s forcing this dark part of you that you don’t know what to think of.

It’s a bit of a drive into town in the grand carriage, but the air is crisp and the horses are moving swiftly. You see the little shops as you pull up, the horses clipped and clopped on the cobblestone streets. The numerous people are all dressed in their Sunday best, couples holding hands, and it’s quite the sight.

The modiste is a charming little shop with a bell that tinkles when you walk in, and immediately a flurry of activity starts. The women inside all look up at you, gasping. “Your Grace! What brings you to us?”

You blink, as the woman who had called out is a beautiful woman with a pretty accent, she has light blue braids that decorate her pretty face, making her look mysterious. “Hello Miss Mei! I wish to pick out some new dresses for the season, it’s been a while since I’ve had any new ones made, also we have the masquerade soon which is the priority. Would you mind helping me?”

“Oh, of course, of course!” She says, bustling over, she’s tall and curved and so elegant. “Let’s get you into the back so we can have a proper look, shall we?” She grabs your hand and pulls you back into the back, as you realize the woman’s quite strong.

“Your Grace, we are so honored to be of service to you!” Her assistant, Utahime, is a delicate and pretty brunette, who cheerfully greets you. You smile over at her.

“Please, just call me Lady Gojo for now. I am not feeling so formal today, and I’d like to enjoy your company without the title weighing on us, if that’s okay?” They both nod eagerly, and they get to work, pulling out fabrics and dresses, asking your opinions.

It’s refreshing to be around such genuine cheer, such pure love for their craft, and you find yourself smiling more and more as you look over the fabrics, for a beautiful moment your cruel husband isn’t in your mind. Utahime holds up a deep blue that matches his eyes, though, but it’s beautiful. You sigh.

“Oh, yes, that’s lovely!”

“It’s perfect, Lady Gojo! And it’ll compliment your husband so nicely!” She says, as Mei Mei agrees, holding up a silver one. “This would be for a masquerade?”

“I’d like to think so, yes. I’ve not been to one in so long!”

The girls giggle a bit, as they start pulling out designs, and your mind drifts off to a past you’ve pushed aside. You’d gone to a masquerade once, before you’d met Gojo, and you’d felt so alive, dancing with a mysterious stranger, feeling his hands on you, feeling so desired. He was blond, wasn’t he!?

You’d been so young then, you still were but twenty one, but you were perhaps seventeen when you’d danced in his arms, and you can remember those glimmering hazel eyes drinking you in, a lazy smile on his face. You’d fancied yourself in love then and there, just a teenager of course, and you two had almost kissed on one of the balconies.

He’d cupped your face so delicately, and your eyes had fluttered shut. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen, darling.”

“You’re the most handsome man I’ve seen, Sir.” You’d tip toed, finger lifting at his mask teasingly, making him laugh. “Even more handsome I imagine without this.”

“I should say the same.” He begins to lift your mask then, off your face so gently, then he had sucked in a breath, running rough but gentle fingers down your face. “Stopped my heart.”

“Oh, you go on, Sir.” You look down shyly, but he’s tilting your chin up, his breath warm and sweet against your lips.

“An angel amongst mere mortals. Should I have such an honor?” He’s leaning further, and your heart is hammering in your chest, then you hear it, your mother.

“Shit!” You back off, putting your mask back on, earning his chuckle.

“The angel has a mouth.” You giggle then, leaning up and kissing his cheek, before backing away. He reaches for you, but you’re running off. “Perhaps we’ll meet again, Sir!”

“Let’s try this one on!” Utahime says, holding up a gorgeous gown, and you nod eagerly, shaking out of your reverie. Ah, to have been young and hopeful.

You allow them to help you out of your day dress and into this beautiful creation, and as you look in the mirror, you can’t help but feel like that girl again, the one who felt alive, the one who felt desired. The one before Satoru Gojo in just a week or so had been absolutely destroyed. You see it in your eyes, she is still there.

“You’re positively glowing, Lady Gojo!” Mei Mei says, and Utahime nods in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you both so much. This is just what I needed!” And it truly was, as you spun in the gown, watching the fabric flutter around you like a storm of silk, it’s the prettiest silver you’ve ever seen.

“We can have this adjusted before the masquerade, Is there anything else we can do for you?” Utahime asks, and you look over to the side, seeing a few accessories. “Oh, a necklace perhaps?”

“Yes I believe so. Perhaps silver to match?” Mei Mei grabs a few to show you, as you try them on, looking into the mirror.

“This one!” Utahime says, holding up a necklace with glittering sapphires. “It’s so beautiful on you!”

You agree, and they put it around your neck, the cool stone resting against your collarbone. “How much?”

It’s an insane amount but…

Fuck Gojo, you can at least get pretty things, yes?

“Thank you, so much. You’ve made my day.” They both smile broadly, and you realize how much you’ve missed this, the simple kindness of others. Leaving the manor is like a huge breath of fresh air.

As you leave the modiste, feeling so much lighter, clinging to your bag with some of your purchases, most will be delivered as they’re still being made. Then you see him, a man in the distance, watching you, and your heart stops. He's tall and blond, just like this dream of yours, just like that night…

It can’t be, can it?

He looks right at you across the bustling street, and his face lights up in recognition, a small tired smile on his handsome face. He comes across the way, stopping in front of you now, and your heart thuds in your chest. Oh but if you’d met him again, could everything have changed? But who was he?

“It’s the mysterious masquerade angel.” He teases, and you giggle a bit, as he takes your hand and kisses the back of it with warm lips.

Your eyes take in his every feature, from his sharp cheekbones, to his thin upper lip and full lower, a conundrum that begged for kisses. His hand that holds yours is so strong, rough, not like the gentlemen you’re used to, and it serves to make your heart flutter.

His hazel eyes that you remember vividly are tilted up like a cat, and he has dark circles under them, serving to show along with rough hands how hard he must work. His sandy blond hair makes you remember that dream, and suddenly you feel even more flustered, as you put it together. He’s nearly as tall as Geto and Gojo, but he’s much broader, shoulders massive under a sleek tan suit.

“How rude of me, just staring.” You give him your name, and it sounds far too good on his lips, with his deep, sultry voice, emanating so much warmth and kindness when his lips quirk. You realize he’s still holding your hand.

“Kento Nanami. It’s a pleasure to meet you again.” His thumb brushes your ring then, and he frowns down at it. “Ah, and met you too late?”

“It’s quite a long story I’m afraid, Mr. Nanami.” You say softly, he looks at you curiously, studying your face.

“Forgive me for saying this, but you look so very… forlorn. Have things been rough in this… marriage?”

“Oh…” You’re nearly about to cry in front of a near stranger, but he makes you feel so comfortable, you ache for him to hold you in his arms. “It’s been rough, yes. I should not go on here…” You notice people looking, so you ease back your hand reluctantly. “I’m afraid as Duchess I’m highly watched, and don’t get the luxury of parading mistresses.”

“What? Mistresses… oh. Fuck.” He huffs those words then, and tilts his head, and you begin to join his walk. “I know some areas that are not so busy, I live just a block from here.”

“That would be nice, thank you Sir.” His arm brushes against yours as you all walk, and you remember dancing in his arms that night. “I’m so surprised you remember me.”

“I’m more so surprised, my Lady. Or… your Grace now is it?”

“You don’t need to call me all that, please.” He hears the pain in your voice, his hazel gaze taking you in seriously as you continue to walk together, the gentle breeze blowing your bonnet nearly off. It starts to fly and you catch it, giggling breathlessly, and Nanami pauses, taking it fully off.

“I cannot even say how beautiful you are, even moreso than before. Surely the Duke would have me whipped, hmm?”

“No, actually, it’s an odd situation. He cares nothing for me.”

“Even if you…”

“No, even then. You know, I was seventeen then, Sir.” You tease, gently pushing his hard chest with two fingers, making him flush even more on those high cheekbones.

He grimaces at that. “Oh gods, were you?”

“I turned eighteen the next week, but yes I was just a girl then. How old are you, Mr. Nanami?”

“Twenty seven. I am a tired twenty seven.”

You roll your eyes. “Just six years, silly man.” He is still holding your bonnet, and he awkwardly hands it back to you, smiling apologetically. Your fingers brush, and you both pause then, it’s like little shocks run through you, you gasp a bit as you gently take it from him. “I hear daily I’m intolerable, so you have free range to speak. It’s quite nice to hear.

“Noble men seem to think they can do whatever they wish, I'm afraid. How are you not enough?”

Mr. Nanami’s words make your palms sweat, as you feel his nearness, the heat from his body as you walk next to him, to where the crowds were more dispersed. It was a little warm out as well, the sun shining on his golden skin, making it glow, as you all stand far too close, and you enjoy it so much you’d feel bad, if your husband wasn’t Satoru Gojo.

“He does not… we do nothing. It’s simply only his mistresses. So it’s not that I’m not enough, it’s that I don’t exist in that way at all.”

“What!?” He pauses again, raising a light brow, and you hesitate, looking down, where he has the most ludicrous tie on. You briefly imagine pulling it, pulling him down… what is wrong with you?

“I’m disgusting to him. So.” You hate the emotion choking your throat, he’s scowling down now, and you’re far too close. “It’s a long story, but it was arranged, and he did not want me.”

“So he doesn’t want the most beautiful woman in London?” You blush furiously, shaking your head a bit. “So who does he expect? There’s no lovelier.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but… it matters naught. It’s lonely, loveless, and I am stuck in it. I do wish we met sooner, but my parents…”

“Surely there are things to be done, even with a Duke. If you’ve done nothing, an annulment is possible. My good friend is a lawyer, perhaps I could ask discreetly?”

You tilt your head to look up at him curiously. “Why would you help me? You don’t know me.”

“Why wouldn’t I help a pretty damsel in distress, hmm?” You smile up at him, with watery eyes, and watch him suck in a breath as he studies you.

“Are you a knight in shining armor, Mr. Nanami?” You whisper, he bows then at the waist, peeking up at you and making you melt.

“For you, darling, anything.”

Fuck.

“Anything, hmm?” You both walk down the trail to the park, where it’s quiet this time of day, grassy knolls and beautiful lush flowers bloom. It fills you with an odd peace your soul has been so lacking.

“I imagine any man would offer the same. Except for your…” He trails off, as if he does not want to say his name, to say you’re married.

“The Duke.” You say softly. He sighs.

“Mmm. I’ve heard he’s a rather immature, foolish man. But to be so… such an imbecile. Is mind boggling.”

“He’s cruel to me.” You both keep walking, you’re walking with a stranger practically, but you feel more comfortable than you have since you’ve been stuck with your husband. His words still make your heart ache.

Wish you didn’t exist.

“Has he… hurt you?” Nanami pauses you, in a field surrounded by willow trees, casting blissful shadows across you both, shade from the warm sun. You lick your lower lip when he caresses your cheek gently, before pausing. “I’m sorry I should not be so bold…”

“No, please don’t stop, it feels good.” You put his hand back, your breasts rising and falling with each breath in your bodice, drawing his gaze for just a moment, before he respectfully looks back into your eyes. You’re holding his hand on your face, falling apart inside. “Not physically really. His words are the knives that twist in my chest.”

“You don’t deserve that. This sadness in your eyes… It's heartbreaking when I think of you a few years ago, glittering eyes and a beautiful grin.” You gulp a bit, stepping closer, inhaling the scent of him, like warm sandalwood.

“I wanted so badly to see you again.” You admit, lashes fluttering as you study his strong chest in this light blue dress shirt, it looks so broad and strong, your fingers itch to touch it.

“I’m not in your social circle, I’m a mere businessman. Who partakes in boxing at times.” You brush your thumb across his knuckles, calloused and scarred.

“I can tell you know how to use your hands.” He blushes then, and you blink a bit. “Was that bad to say?”

“Forgive me but… how much have you done?”

“Oh… nothing. A kiss. The duke said he will not lay with me.” Nanami takes a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair now.

“Using hands… it made me think about things I should not. Touching you.” His husky whisper makes your tummy clench with… is this desire?

“Oh.” Your voice is a breathy whisper. “I’ve seen him with his mistress, um her… riding him. So I've seen sex.”

His hazel eyes widen. “You’ve seen it!? Him with her?”

“Well yes, he doesn’t hide it. She’s always around.”

His jaw clenches, and you watch a vein popping out of his strong neck, you errantly trail a fingertip down it, making him tense even more, his free hand now on the nip of your waist. “I hate this for you. I’ll try to help, if I can.”

“For now, I will be stuck in this, and all I can think of is how good I’d feel in your arms. It’s very scandalous of me. Isn’t it?” He blinks then, lowering his face until you’re so close.

“No, it’s not scandalous to want affection. I’d say that makes you human. But would this hurt you? Would he hurt you for it?” He’s pressing you back gently, until your back is against a thick oak tree. You can’t stop the little whine that escapes the back of your throat as your own hands slide around his thick waist.

“I would not reveal who you are. But I’ve told him I will have someone find me beautiful, the first person to see me, not grotesque or… passable.”

He scoffs then, his hand sliding up the side of your breast, pressing just so, and your head falls back, as you can taste coffee on his breath. “He should not get to see your beauty. So does my darling simply want a hug from me, or does she wish for something else?”

“Your darling, hmm?” He smirks a bit, his eyes growing lidded with desire, as his hard body pressed against yours.

“Do you know how many dreams you’ve occupied? Running away from me and cursing like a man.” You giggle, brightly, and he laughs with you softly, your breaths intermingling together. Would you truly kiss two men in two days, and neither of them are your husband? “That was the grin.”

“It’s easy to forget the world with you, it was that night as well. You have no clue the awful week I’d had before we danced.” You run your hand up and down his chest, over the silky tie, fingers itching to pull him in.

“I’m glad to look upon this face again. I thought you were a dream.”

“I may have… seen you in my dream too.”

“I’m not so worthy.” You shake your head, eyes drinking him in slowly.

“You’re a very handsome man, Nanami Kento. Would it hurt you to… to kiss someone that can’t fully be yours though?”

“I’d suffer any sort of pain for a chance at you.”

“You go on too much.” You tiptoe then, pulling his tie, and one hand braces by your head on the tree, the other sliding down your back, making your nipples go taut against your bodice.

“So use your words, darling, let me know what you want?” You bite your lip at his sultry words, as you feel yourself back at that night, in his arms.

“A kiss, mysterious man. You owed me one.” He exhales then, pressing you further against the hard wood of the tree, and his lips descending on yours, so gentle and sweet, a featherlight touch that ignites something inside of you.

You whimper into his lips, and he moans, opening them then, and sliding his tongue inside, you press yours against his, in a back and forth dance, swirling around each other. Your teeth click as the kiss deepens, and now his hands are both on your little waist, overtaking it, burning through your corset, through your dress, fuck his touch feels so good, you’re leaning up for more.

Your hands enwrap in his silky hair, messing the perfect set of it up, then he shocks you, picking you up, just dangling you off the ground, you squeak a bit and he pulls back, hungry eyes, his face stark with hunger, mirroring your own. He eases you down, sliding on his hard body, and you cling tightly, trying to catch your breath.

“Imagine this pretty face cumming.” He whispers, and you are blushing as you don’t fully understand.

“Um… what is that, Mr. Nanami?” He pales a bit, sighing and cupping your face now, his free hand sliding down your hip now, leaving goosebumps in its trail.

“I’ll surely go to hell for not just you being married, but so innocent. Corrupting one as such seems a one way ticket to hell.” You giggle again, though he’s serious, glaring a bit at you. You kiss him once more, enjoying the sigh he makes.

“Explain, Sir. An order from your Duchess.” You tease, and he rolls his eyes a bit, stepping back to look at you.

“Cumming… or climaxing, it’s pleasure. For you.” He murmurs, his gaze glinting green in this light now, licking that glossy lower lip now. Your tummy clenches again, and now you feel heat… between your thighs, making you look down nervously. “Am I saying too much?”

“It’s having an odd effect. Um. Here.” You take his hand, gliding it down to your lower tummy, watching his eyes dilate, so dark as his cheeks hollow with him sucking in a breath.

“That would be desire. Is this a… first?” You nod nervously, furiously blushing now.

“To this extent yes. It’s spreading lower.”

“Going to hell for this.” You are curious but he’s back to kissing you again, and now his hand is sliding to your breasts, and he yanks your bodice down, making you gasp as he peers at the breasts that have spilled. “Fuck you’re so beautiful.”

“I… um… Nanami?” He’s cupping them, and your eyes flutter shut at how good it feels, him squishing them so gently in big hands. “Nanami!”

“Perfect. May I?” You look down curiously, as he’s sitting now, pulling you onto his lap, straddling him obscenely. You’re a mess of emotions and desire, as he kisses down your collarbone. “May I kiss them, darling?”

“Oh, you want to?”

“I’m dying to.”

“Yes, you may. Ah!” You gasp in pleasure then, as you’re feeling something hard against where you’re so eager, that apex of your thighs. You grind on it, moaning at the friction, and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth, it feels so good you get wet down there. “Oh no!”

“What, darling?” He asks softly, and you feel so embarrassed, looking down. “You’re so hot there.”

“It’s wet. Is that…”

“Fuck you are killing me.” He’s pressing your hips down further, and you whine out in pleasure at the friction, as he’s sucking another nipple in his hot mouth. Your body is reacting so hard to it all, your head falling back, and you’re moaning loudly now. “Wet is very good, darling. But… you’re quite loud.”

“Is that bad?” He chuckles, pulling your top up, shaking his head.

“Not if we weren’t outside. Perhaps… alone.”

“Let’s do that?”

“You’re so eager for that, hmm?” You nod, and he is kissing you again, leaning up and moaning, hands trembling against your hips. “Are you sure? Do you have so much time?”

“Does it last long?”

“Pleasuring you yes. I am thinking of too many ways currently.” You take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself.

“What are the ways? Mmh.”

“Those noises you make, gods.” He kisses down your throat, wrapping arms around you. “I’m dreaming.”

“I am.” He chuckles against your collarbone, tickling it, your hands cling to his broad shoulders. “It’s like my woes faded for a few moments.” You say sadly then, as you come to the realization of just what you’re doing. It hits hard, how easily you fall into this man’s arms.

“I could please you with my fingers, with my mouth, or both. To start.” You bite your lower lip, as you grow impossibly wetter against him. “But we’ve done a lot, and I don’t want to overwhelm you, when you’re so upset already.”

He is correct, you’re acting on instinct, there is no… thoughts here.

You were Gojo’s wife.

Would you be as bad as him if you go further?

“I’ll let you know where my apartments are, then you decide what you want. And darling, I’ll give it to you.” You feel tears flowing then, and he swipes them away, kissing on your cheeks.

“You mean make love?”

“I’m not sure you’re ready for that. No, I would please you.”

“What if I ask so sweetly?” He chuckles, and taps your nose, shaking his head at you as he eases you up to stand, holding your hands.

“You cuss and are so wanton, hmm?”

“I suppose I’m not so ladylike.”

“You’re very much a Lady.” He kisses you again, gently once more, brushing his lips over yours. “I will make some inquiries quietly, if you so decide to try.”

“I’m afraid it will be no option but it surely won't hurt. I am so very glad we met again. You’ve made me so happy.”

“I didn’t make you cum though.” You are a mess at that, and he’s smirking at you. “You’re too adorable to tease.”

“Sir!” He kisses you again and again, until you both get heated again. “What if I stay so quiet?”

“Can you even? If you’re so loud from kissing?”

“Hush, Sir.” You stick your tongue out, making him chuckle, then you hastily get yourself together, as you all head back to town. When you’re by your carriage you dread what awaits you at home. “I hope to see you again, Sir.”

“I ache to see you again, darling.” He kisses your hand once more, helping you up into the carriage, and your heart is still pounding as you ride off, covering your face and struggling to not rip your damn corset off. You’re so wet between your thighs you reach your finger down scandolously, up your skirts, finding sticky wetness glistening on your fingers.

Fuck.

You’ve never felt like this, Suguru’s kiss and unfortunately Satoru’s touches had felt a bit of that pressure, but Nanami has wrecked you. The way he touched you, kissed you, the way he looked at you. With adoration, the whispers of his sweet words tickle your ears still. You run your finger down your lips of your sex, shivering at how sensitive you are.

You’ve never touched yourself.

You’ve kissed two men in two days, now you play with yourself in a carriage, you don’t even know yourself… but fuck if it didn’t feel good, to lose yourself in his arms, and fuck if you weren’t tempted to see him again. He’d seen your breasts, which were now firmly back in your bodice, but you can see the little red marks left from his bites, from him sucking on them.

Your heart is going to burst from your chest, as you walk into your home then, and Satoru is moaning, you hear it clear as day. You tense a bit, because it sounds too loud to be far away, then he’s right there, bending over some other mistress, right on the dining room table. When he hears you he pauses, looking back and you’re getting a view of his entire ass, and someone’s thighs.

“Really, on the table?” You demand then, and he rolls his eyes, as the mistress squeals, pulling back and covering up. “Where’s Catherine?”

“She said she couldn’t any longer because you’re too nice and she feels horrible.” He adjusts himself, but not before you get an eye full of his… very large cock, huge and curved with a pink tip. You feel an odd hit again in your tummy, but it mixes with disgust as you realize where it had just been.

“I’m sorry. I won’t be as nice.” You say, and he scoffs, as you walk past now, yanking off the table cloth, not moving a single thing on it with the movement. Satoru’s blue eyes get wide in shock when you shove it into the mistress’ arms, a little brunette girl. “Have those cleaned you little chit, understood? I’ll not have you soiling such fine linen.”

She sputters, then runs off, nodding. Satoru smirks, surprising you then, you figured he’d be irritated, but he saunters to you, his dress shirt wide open, tie hanging loose now. You feel such disgust from him, clearly covered in her, red lipstick all over his throat.

“Do it in your chambers. Could you at least give me that kindness?”

“You don’t enjoy to watch? You don’t picture yourself there?” He presses you against the table now and you smirk up at him.

“Oh, not with you I don’t.”

His thin white brows lower, as he takes you in now. Your hair is loose and flowing, and you have red marks all over your breasts, earning a full fucking scowl. “What on earth have you been doing?”

“Just kissing, don’t worry. But… I got so wet, now I know what you meant that night, Duke.” You put a hand on his chest, and feel his heart race under your palm, his chest heaving as his blue eyes bore into your face.

“Wet?”

“Mmhmm. Soaking wet.” He shuts his eyes, sucking in a breath and looking away, hands clenching the table on either side of you so tightly you would think he’d break the wood. “I wasn’t that night. How could I be? Smacking doesn’t have that effect.”

“Yes well you would have been if I’d touched you.” He leans in closer, a breath away, and you just continue to smile, batting your eyelashes.

“You never will, so no matter. But I don’t think so. I think I enjoy…” You shove at him, making him step back. “Rougher hands.”

“Rougher hands!?” You giggle now, and he glares. “You’re in a good fucking mood. Ice princess can laugh?”

“I can when not being told not to exist. When not walking in on some whore screaming your name.”

“Oh whores are they, and you?”

“I’m a lady who has a terrible fucking husband. For now.”

“For now!?” You walk away now as he stumbles back, but he follows you, as you glide up the stairs, humming. “What does that mean?”

“No sex, no marriage really. So we’ll have an annulment. But we’ll give it some time for now, perhaps a year, so that you can keep ahold of that dowry.” He’s following you up each step, until he’s pinning you against the wall, but he doesn’t scare you, you see him losing it.

“So what we have sex? Is that what you’re getting at?”

“Oh no, I’m glad we don’t. I can’t wait for my first time to be special. Oh I hear my breasts are beautiful by the way.” You tap his chin with a finger, grinning, and he is huffing now, one hand entangling in your hair, the other sliding to your bodice.

“Men say anything to get under a lady’s skirts.”

“Mmm, maybe so. But it was nice to hear. Don’t worry, I won’t ask your opinion, I see who you fuck and… it’s nothing like me, is it?”

“You assume they’re that nice? Show me then. All talk.” You raise a brow, and he is fingering the lace of your bodice.

“I’m unnatractive to you, what’s it matter? But sure, Duke, you can untie my corset and let me know your nasty opinion.” You rush into your room and he’s following you, overheated as he unties you at a stupidly fast pace.

“Let me guess, he sucked on those perky nipples?” He whispers, yanking your corset off harshly, and you tilt your head curiously, feeling the chill of the room when he’s yanked it off fully. You take off your bodice, turning in just your shift then, hands on your strips as his gaze is…

Hungry?

No.

Psychotic.

“Perky hmm? Yes, he did, and it felt so good. Well, here…” You slide your shift down to your waist, looking down as you wait for his nasty comments. He says nothing, but you hear him bump into your nightstand. You look at him curiously, as his mouth is slack open, staring at them openly. “Go on, make your insults.”

He just stares, and it’s… odd, your nipples are hard from the chill of the room, as your lush breasts sway slightly when you shift from one leg to the other. You sigh, rolling your eyes then, and covering yourself back up, as he’s still sputtering, and he comes to grip your wrists now, in a tight, bruising grip, bringing your attention to his face once more.

“Say it, your Grace. Passable? Or grotesque?” You whisper, and he leans down now, until his lips are far too close, making you want to simultaneously recoil and lean closer.

You hate this man.

“They’re perfect.” He says softly, and you do back away then, with shocked eyes, as he gulps, clearing his throat, blue eyes lingering down to where your breasts nearly hang out in your shift.

“You jest with me, of course. I know you don’t-”

“They’re fucking perfect.” He says again, then he lets you go, and you feel the very room close in on you.

“As nice as the little slut you’re fucking now?” You quip, angrily, and he rakes a hand through his hair, looking down, his abdomen flexing as he moves back. “Catherine was prettier.”

“Jesus fucking…” You look down then, and notice it… the huge bulge in his pants, and you blink a bit in confusion, looking back up at him again. His face looks tortured.

“Well thanks for saying one nice thing about me. That is… surprising.” You mumble then. “It looks like you’re wanting to finish fucking that girl though.”

“Blasted you’re stupid.”

“Me stupid?”

“Stupid.” He pulls you against him then, so you shove at him now, glaring up at him. “What, I cannot touch you?”

“We don’t do that. And thank you for that, because I get to have true pleasure, and not some forced formality.”

He searches your face then. “Did you cum?”

“Did I… no… what’s it your business!?” You demand heatedly.

“You’re my wife.” Those words are so meaningless, where you once hoped to have meaning, it makes you laugh then, losing it, there was no longer composure.

“You wanted this, to do nothing with me, and guess what, I want that too. You smell like her cheap perfume, you’re covered in her wetness, you think I want you?” You ask, and he grips tighter, scowling at you.

“You think I said I wanted you? For nice tits?” Ah, there it is.

“No, I don’t, that’s why I found someone who does. Works out, doesn’t it, dear husband. Now go on, you have whores to fuck. Hop to it Duke.”

“Hop to it… you insolent little…” You’re just giggling, and he’s not glaring, it’s like he’s confused who you are.

“I see why you’re always fucking, even kissing does put me in quite a happy little mood.” You tap his cheek now, earning another grip on your wrists. “Not kissing you though, that was horrible.”

“I didn’t try to kiss you.” He whispers, lingering close once more. You ignore the flutter of your pulse at your throat. “I never wanted to kiss you.”

“That’s for the best. I’ve lost my appetite after seeing her on that table, so I won’t eat tonight. Best for you I imagine.” He glares now.

“I will have it sent to your room.”

“No need.”

“You’ll eat.” He commands through gritted teeth, and you just blink at him in confusion.

“If you wish, dear husband.” He stomps away then, slamming your door, and you can’t help but smile. You’d gotten under his fucking skin, and you got to kiss sweet Nanami Kento.

Gojo does send up food for you, he’s very confusing, isn’t he? You nibble carefully, hearing him louder than ever in the room next to you. You sigh in annoyance, but when Nanami enters your mind, you smile, you feel warmth radiating through you. It could be hopeless, but it was such a beautiful feeling you were thriving from it.

Unfortunately, instead of Nanami, it’s your rather horrid husband that is under that tree with you, that’s sucking under your breasts, with his blue eyes looking lustfully up at you, his perfect cheeks hollowed as he grinds his length against where you’re so wet. You hate it, that even in your dreams you cannot escape him, and you hate it more when he’s bending you over that table.

That Goddamn Duke.

You hate him.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #duke gojo #bridgerton au #royalty au #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #kento nanami #geto suguru #nanami x reader #arranged marriage

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luna-azzurra · 1 day

Note

do you have any advice for writing a love confession without making it grossly cheesy or awkward?

im writing one between long time childhood best friends that are EXTREMELY close and im so stuck

Since these two characters have been best friends for a long time, the confession should feel like it’s built off their history together. Maybe start with a memory that’s meaningful to both of them. It doesn’t have to be a huge, dramatic moment, something small but personal, like a time they supported each other or a running joke they’ve had forever.

For example, one of them could say something like

“Remember that time we got caught in the rain walking home from school, and you made up that ridiculous song to keep me from freaking out? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately… and I realized that’s when I first started seeing you differently.”

When people confess their feelings, especially in a real and vulnerable way, it’s usually not in flowery language. If you try to make it too poetic or dramatic, it might feel forced. Instead, keep it honest and straightforward. They don’t need to say “I’ve loved you all along” in some grand, movie-like way. Let the confession come out more naturally, almost like they’ve been fighting it for a while and finally just have to get it off their chest.

You could have them say

“I don’t really know how to say this, and it might sound weird… but somewhere along the way, I started seeing you as more than just my best friend.”

There’s no way for this kind of confession to be totally smooth, and honestly, that’s what makes it feel more authentic. They’ve been best friends forever, so there’s going to be nerves, maybe some hesitation or stumbling over words. Lean into that awkwardness, it actually makes the moment more relatable and shows how important it is to them.

Maybe one of them starts talking, realizes they’re rambling, and tries to correct themselves. Like

“Okay, wait, that sounded dumb, let me start over. What I’m trying to say is… you mean a lot to me, more than I’ve probably ever said out loud, and it’s kind of terrifying because I don’t want to mess things up between us. But I’ve gotta be honest, this is how I feel.” The vulnerability in admitting they’re scared to ruin the friendship makes it more heartfelt and real.

This is probably the most important part! These two aren’t just falling for each other out of nowhere, they’ve built this strong, deep friendship over the years. So the confession should acknowledge how much that means to them. Make it clear that the romantic feelings don’t take away from their friendship but add to it.

You could have one of them say something like

“You’ve always been the person I turn to for everything, and that’s not gonna change, no matter what. But lately, I’ve been feeling something more, and I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I just hope it doesn’t mess things up between us.” This way, they’re emphasizing that the friendship is still the foundation of everything, but they can’t ignore the fact that it’s evolving into something deeper.

Overall, just make sure it feels true to the characters and their relationship. Don’t feel like you have to tie it up neatly with a perfect line or a romantic kiss right away. The beauty of this kind of love confession is that it’s messy and emotional, and it should reflect the complexity of their relationship. They don’t need to have all the answers right away. Let the moment be about the honesty and the fact that they’re finally admitting something that’s been building for a while.

Maybe end with something like

“I don’t know where this goes from here, but I had to tell you. You’re too important to me to keep pretending like I don’t feel this way.” This leaves room for both characters to process what’s happening without forcing a big romantic resolution right away. It’s more about them taking that first step into new territory, which feels more genuine and in line with the close friendship they’ve had for so long.

#love confessions #writing #writer on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #character development #writing advice #oc character #writing help #writer tumblr #writblr #creative writing

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mydarlingclaudia · 3 days

Text

I will love you ‘til the end of time

note : divider is from @/toastray. I have nothing to say this was supposed to be a couple hundred words but yk.

wc : 2.7k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy

desc : he’s been in love with the memory of you for too long, falling back in love with the newer you took a matter of seconds. fluff, bit of angst (?), au, re4rLeon, fem!reader, not proofread, I talk a tiny bit about sex at the end but there’s no smut.

Leon doesn’t remember the sound of your voice, it’s been too long, too many years have passed since the day you died.

Six years was all the time the two of you had together. Six good years. All a really, really long time ago. Leon hates it, he knows he’s forgetting, memories are serving less and less of a purpose to him everyday. How is he to remember lying under the trees with you when those trees have been cut down and turned to homes and firewood? How can he remember you gutting fish for the two of you to eat when the fish have left the river you lived by?

The home you originally lived in had been torn down and rebuilt dozens of times by now, Leon wasn’t always there, even when he was, it wasn’t very lived in after you died. He’s been around the world more times than he can remember, before you, with you, after you. No place looks the same. Leon has many homes, stays there for a few decades, packs up, and moves to the next house in the next country.

He had been gifted with everlasting life for being some hero, for fighting monster when those were still a thing, it was well after he had married you, he didn’t tell you, but he thought you’d spend forever together. Didn’t happen, obviously. You got sick, he took care of you, nothing helped.

Leon prayed to whatever God that had bestowed his immortality to him to give it to you too, to keep you alive, to make you healthy again. He received no answer and you died not long after, Leon was left to spend the rest of his eternal life alone, but the world was his, and he has all the time that the universe has to offer. But what had he done to not be granted the one thing he wanted in the world? Why would some God reward him just to let him live the rest of his life miserable?

Leon’s seen everyone fall in love, but love evolved from courting to dating apps, he’s seen an embarrassing amount of shitty first dates. But he’s also seen a lot of good ones, ones where the first date turns to a second one, then a third, then a fourth, then before he knows it, those twenty-something-year-olds he had seen fall in love in a small restaurant were now taking their teenagers to the mall and going to high school reunions.

You would have loved this, or he hopes you would’ve. Because he really wishes that you were there to cuddle up to him on the couch and watch tv with him until midnight, he wanted to take you on cute dates, he wants to buy you things and renew your vows once every few years.

He wishes that the memories are clearer in his head, he can really only see them when he closes his eyes, or when the weather is a certain way, or when a certain smell hits his nose. Leon wants to feel your skin against his again. he wants to hear you talking directly into his ear and see that smirk on your face when you suggest something you know he won't refuse.

But it's been so long and he knows that your body has long since decomposed and your grave has been swallowed up by the ocean, a good half of the time since then he's been living on auto-pilot, the other half he's painfully aware of your absence with each day that passes.

He's not even sure he'd be able to hold you correctly, should you fall back into his arms one day. Would you still love him despite that?

He's gone so long without a lover, would he remember how to kiss? The Hollywood movies don't do it justice, kissing. But no one in those movies kissed like you had, Leon's seen all kinds of romance movies, read all kinds of books, he's always imagined you and him as the main characters, but you never kiss him the way you used to.

Would you even choose him? There were so many different men out there and so many new ways to meet someone and stay connected, there was no rush to get married or have kids, would Leon be the man you'd pick once again? He hopes so.

He doesn't remember Beowulf having a wife, and Beowulf had been great. He knows that many heroes aren't able to keep their wife and their glory at the same time, the decision is often made for them, and they go on fighting until they die. But Leon stopped fighting with the same determination when you passed, he still did it, people needed protecting, but if he wasn't there to protect you, then was there really anything to fight for?

Despite all of this, he's still here. Leon looks the same as he did all those years ago, some things have changed, a lot, really, but not just about him. The world around him has grown, he's watched generations come and go just to get to some shitty grocery store in Raccoon City twenty minutes before they close at eight.

Leon doesn't like to have to work all the time, he thinks it's crazy how he went from hero to cop, more money was needed to live now than he ever imagined would be possible. He has money saved up from years and years of work, but he can't keep using the "generational wealth" excuse when he's got no family.

He doesn't like being bugged much, either. Maybe that's why he's buying his dinner when he's already supposed to be in bed, could be why he works so much even though he can't stand it sometimes, too.

Leon should have grabbed a shopping cart, the basket he carries is overflowing with shit he doesn't even need, when has he ever even eaten Devil Dogs and Zebra Cakes? He really needs to eat more than just pasta and steak every other night, maybe stop getting deliveries from the pizza place, too. He's looking over the ingredients on the back of a cereal box he knows he's going to get no matter what when there's a soft tap on his shoulder, he sighs and stops, turning around and preparing to be asked a question a cashier would know the answer to rather than him.

But Leon freezes the second his eyes land on your face. He must've gone crazy, it can't be you, can it? You're not really standing in front of him with a basket in your arms, wearing a winter jacket over your sweatshirt and smiling at him as if you're some stranger to him.

"Where did you get those?" Your voice is quiet when you speak, his gaze doesn't even follow your hand when you point at the sweets in his basket, he just stands there and admires you for a few seconds.

Leon wants to cry, he wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, tell you to run away with him, find someway for you to become immortal and stay by his side until the world ends. But he doesn’t, you look at him like he’s a stranger.

"Oh- Th-the uhm, the Zebra Cakes?" Leon finally asks after a few seconds, you only nod. "The e-end of aisle six." Why is he stammering? He's thought about all the things he'd say to you for hundreds of years, and he's instantly throwing every single word out the window the second you come out from whatever corner of the world you've been hiding in.

"Alright, thanks." God, it really is you. Your smile's the same, you look the same, you smell the same, you sound the same, you just- it's you. He remembers the way you sound again, God, please don’t ever take your voice away from him. He stops himself from reaching for your wrist when you walk away, knowing that you don't remember the things he does and that it'll only make you feel weird about him. But he'll settle for knowing that you're alive and that you're in the city, and that hopefully this won't be the last time he sees you.

—

The next time Leon sees you is on the subway a few weeks later in December.

You're not really looking when you step into the train, reaching up too high for the pole to hang onto and instead grab onto his hand. Your hands are so cold, you really need to wear gloves. But you gasp and pull your hand away when you feel his warm hand touch your skin, instantly holding lower down on the cold pole and looking at him.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry!" It's cute how quickly you apologize, it brings a smile to his face.

"No- No, you’re fine." He wants so badly to wrap his hand around yours, to hold you close and keep you warm, but he couldn’t, he was still a stranger to you. Being in a crowded train and standing a few inches apart was enough for now.

Leon just watches you, you don’t notice because you’re too busy staring down at your shoes, but his eyes are tracing over the curve of your nose, the way your eyelashes look when you blink, how kissable your lips look. He missed this view, although he'd much rather have you looking back at him with the same adoration in your eyes.

Neither of you speak again for the rest of the ride, you can feel him staring at you, though, you don’t entirely mind, you’d probably looking at him if his eyes weren’t burning holes through your skull.

You haven’t left his mind since he saw you at the grocery store, he’s been trying to figure out ways to find you again without getting put on some kind of radar, he’s too impatient to let things happen naturally, but it’s really the only choice he has.

He knows you recognize him, he can’t help but wonder if you’re getting some kind of vision from the past of him kissing you, of you resting on top of him in the sunlight, of him looking at you with awe in his eyes as you laugh at a story he told you.

But he can’t think about that for long, the train comes to a stop and you leave again, looking back over your shoulder at him and giving him a small goodbye smile. Where have you been all these years?

—

Sometimes, shitty dates were a good thing.

Both parties normally end up having a bad rest of their night, but if some man-child asshole you had been put on a date with hadn’t just thrown a whole tantrum and stomped out of the bar, you wouldn’t be sitting next to Leon.

He didn’t know you’d be here tonight, he was just here because he wanted to grab a drink after work, but this was better.

It’s awkward, he really, really doesn’t hope you think he’s stalking you. How small could a city be? Is it really so odd that the man you said a few words to at a grocery store and bumped into on the train would be sitting next to you at a bar?

Leon’s always had a staring problem when it came to you, he’s sure you’re too pretty for him, not that you were really his anymore. And Christ, you’re still beautiful, maybe even more so now. Modern clothes look good on you, he likes your dress, your shoes, the way you did your hair, the color you painted your nails.

He has to stop staring, because now you’re looking back at him. Leon expects for you to yell at him, or slap him, or something, but you just smile at him and turn towards him a tiny bit more.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare, zoned out.” Leon apologizes once his eyes snap up to yours, you had moved from your table up to the bar a few minutes ago, most likely embarrassed. You brought your drink over, too, though you didn’t really pay attention to it, just circling the lip of the cup with your fingers and taking a few sips every few seconds.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Your smile only grows, Leon has to bite back a grin threatening to stretch across his lips. Once again, he’s not sure what to say. Does he ever really know what to say now, though? You take the words right out of his mouth and turn them into broken mumbles that he tries to cover up with a fake cough or forced chuckle.

That didn’t use to happen, he’d still get nervous around you, but seeing you now made him feel like he was falling in love again.

“I’d feel like I’ve seen you before…?” You say, you know you’re right, you just want him to talk to you because you haven’t been able to get him out of your head, for some reason.

“Oh, uhm, yeah- Yeah, I think I’ve seen you around, too.” Is he seriously fucking blushing right now?

“Hm, small world.” You take a sip from your drink, he does the same.

“So, uh, bad date?” Leon asks before he can stop himself, he knows the answer, but you were probably going to get mad at him, get offended and ignore him if he sees you again.

“Yeah,” You sigh, “It’s fine, though. Blind date.” Leon nodded, staring down at the ring of water his glass left on the countertop. “You just here for a drink?”

“Mhm,” Alcohol was like water to him now, not the way that he drinks it everyday, but that it hardly has an effect on him anymore. But he can’t sit here and drink glass after glass unless if he wants people to get concerned, so he just sips on one or two for an hour and leaves. You’re drinking the same drink as him, though, so he decides to stay for longer than usual.

And to his amazement, you stay, too. You laugh and nod at the stories he tells you, he listens intently to the ones you tell in return. Of course you’ve been living a different life than the one he had with you, but this is already getting better than the last. And you seem… into him? More into him than you were with your actual date, he’s not complaining.

By the time you and Leon go your separate ways, it’s pitch black outside, well, not really, it’s never completely dark in a city. The lights of driving cars and buildings illuminate you beautifully, like you’re something holy.

Leon finds a napkin with a phone number scribbled on it in his jacket pocket, it must’ve been yours, he couldn’t be happier.

—

Whatever higher being blessed him with another chance with you, he’d praise for the rest of eternal life. Because after a few hour-long phone calls and a couple more coincidental meetings, he’s taking you out on dates and you’re holding onto his arm and kissing his cheek.

It’s better than he remembers, the city offers more things for the two of you to do, and he’s up for anything you suggest.

Leon is finally able to feel your skin underneath his fingertips, feel your lips against his, listen to your voice in his ear, buy you nice things, have you cuddle up with him on the couch, he has you back.

You look so peaceful when you sleep, your head resting on his bicep, his naked skin pressed against yours. It’s been a year, you both still look the same, but he knows you’re changing. Leon hadn’t had sex in so long that he was sure that he would’ve fucked it up, you had taken charge, and it had been soft and slow, anyway. Nothing for him to worry about.

He’s been awake for an hour, just looking at you, trying to imprint this memory into his mind in case you were to disappear soon. But you finally start to stir, blinking your eyes a few times as you start to wake up.

“Leon…?” You mumble, he pulls you closer.

“Go back to sleep,” A kiss to your eyebrow, then the bridge of your nose, your lips twitch up into a sleepy smile.

“Mm… ‘kay. Love you.” You yawn, resting your hand on his chest as you close your eyes again and nestle into his shoulder. He hasn’t heard that from you in ages, he doesn’t know if you meant to say it, but he’s thankful you did.

“… Yeah, love you, too.”

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 day

Text

Margaret Killjoy’s “The Sapling Cage”

TODAY (Sept 24), I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!

The Sapling Cage is the first book in Margaret Killjoy's new "Daughters of the Empty Throne" trilogy: it's a queer coming-of-age tale in the mode of epic fantasy, and it's very good:

https://firestorm.coop/products/21646-the-sapling-cage.html

Lorel wants to be a witch, but that's the very last of the adventurous trades to be strictly gender-segregated. Boys and girls alike run away to be knights, brigands and sailors, but only girls can become a witch. Indeed, Lorel's best friend, Lane, is promised to the witches, having been born to a witch herself.

Lane doesn't want to be a witch. She wants to be a knight. So she and Lorel swap places, so when the crones come to their little hamlet to collect the girl who was promised to her, it's Lorel who steps forward, wearing the black dress Lane's mother left behind. None of the townsfolk rate Lorel out to the witches, and just like that, she is on the march with the coven, a whelp – the lowest ranking inductee, aspiring to "apprentice" and then, "witch."

What follows is, in some ways, a very expertly executed coming-of-age story. Lane is getting trained up with the coven, among a new cohort of whelps of varying degrees of friendliness and hostility. The world is a richly realized fantasy landscape of monsters and giants, magic and political intrigue.

Lorel has signed up for witching just as the land is turning against witches, thanks to a political plot by a scheming duchess who has scapegoated the witches as part of a plan to annex all the surrounding duchies, re-establishing the long-disintegrated kingdom with herself on the throne. To make things worse (for the witches, if not the duchess), there's a plague of monsters on the land, and the forests are blighted with a magical curse that turns trees to unmelting ice. This all softens up the peasantfolk for anti-witch pogroms.

So Lorel has to learn witching, even as her coven is fighting both monsters and the duchess's knights and the vigilante yokels who've been stirred up with anti-witch xenophobia.

This is a good, sturdy, serviceable plot, and in Killjoy's hands, it is expertly handled. There are lots of reversals and double-crosses, brilliant fight scenes, all the things you could want in an epic fantasy. And of course, it's a coming of age, with Lorel seeing the world and discovering who she is and brushing away the comforting half-truths and lies her elders have cocooned her in.

That's where the fact that Lorel is trans comes in. Lorel is figuring out what that means, but she's also very worried about discovery. After all, she's entered the company of witches, the last all-female cohort in the land, and these are powerful women – what's more, they're anarchists, leaderless and fractious. Who knows what happens if Lorel gets discovered.

So you've got this incredibly well-turned fantasy/coming-of-age story going on, and Killjoy figures out how to work in this gender stuff not just as a way of doing "representation" or "queer joy" or any other value that's orthogonal to the literary merits of this as an adventure tale. Nor does she simply integrate trans-ness as an unremarkable fact of life, another kind of statement (indeed, there's plenty of queer characters in this story who are matter-of-fact in this manner).

No, Killjoy uses the special complications of coming-of-age while transitioning to heighten the stakes and thus fuel the suspense of the novel. In addition to all the normal merits of diverse characters, Killjoy is using gender issues to crank up the story, winding it up to a breakneck pace that makes the pages practically fly past.

Thematically, there's a bunch of chewy stuff Killjoy does with the way that magic transforms bodies, making monsters out of witches who push their powers too hard. The story has all these changing bodies – children coming of age, Lorel coming out as transfemme, the transformation of magic-users into monsters. It's just another layer of depth that supports a zippy, run-and-gun quest tale.

I've followed Killjoy's work for more than a decade, ever since her days publishing the seminal zine Steampunk (motto: "Love the machine, hate the factory"):

https://firestorm.coop/products/2624-steampunk-magazine.html

Years later, I had the pleasure of instructing her at the Clarion West workshop. She's published regularly all that time, and this is by far her most commercial – and, I think her best! – novel (to date).

Today, Tor Books publishes SPILL, a new, free LITTLE BROTHER novella about oil pipelines and indigenous landback!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/24/daughters-of-the-empty-throne/#witchy/a>

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lexirosewrites · 3 days

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Slick Sundaaaaaaay!

I see a lot of ABO steddie fics featuring Omega Steve who is self conscious for one reason or another because he doesn't have a typical Omega physic and/or behaviors (which is super tasty yum yum) but I live the idea of Eddie being the more swlf conscious one.

Like, Eddie who is not deceptively strong for his size (he has a little bit of natural muscle tone as an Alpha but he never puts it to good use), and who is a little weasel who like to agrivate people but runs away from any kind of real conflict and doesn't have a strong manly scent or any desire for a high powered job to take care of an Omega unless you count is half fleshed out dreams of being a rock star.

Dealers choice of how it happens but Steve basically asks Eddie if he would be interested in couting the Omega and Eddie isn't blind, stupid, or heartless so he jumps on the chance to be with the Omega of his dreams but very quickly finds himself self agonizing about how to be the "right kind" of Alpha for Steve.

So decides he needs to start working out so he can keep his Omega safe even if he knows Steve is more than capable of taking care of himself in that department but his first workout sends him into an asthma attack for the ages so he decides it's more important for Steve to have a living Alpha than a fit one.

There's nothing much he can do about his wet concrete and grass scent which on paper sounds super manly but mostly just smells like a suburban morning so he goes down the employment seeking rabbit hole. He applies for what feels like every Alpha-y job in the Hawkins area but his reputation proceeds him and he never makes it past the first interview. Eventually he gets a call back from a place he applied for after reading the word "painter" and wrote down the number in his notebook with no notes (he didn't say he had a good system) but it turns out to be someone two towns over looking for someone to freelance the painting of dnd and other such figures to sell in a games shop two towns over. It's an ideal job for Eddie but it's deeply entrenched in his need shit and not the kind of thing he was looking for to impress Steve and show him he can provide for him and their future pups. He still takes it because even if it doesn't pay a tone, whatever he DOES make can go toward pampering his Omega and saving up.

It all comes to a head when they go out and Eddie is feeling pretty down on himself after so many failed attempts to "improve" for his Love. Some guy is hitting in Steve while Eddie is RIGHT THERE even though Steve has said no many times and has told him he's there with his Alpha. The guy just keeps leaving and coming back and on his fourth return to their spot Eddie just launches is fist no warning into the guy's face.

That was NOT what he meant to do, he was just getting so fed up and territorial and he was gonna really tell the guy to piss off but the little goblin inside him made him throw a pretty pathetic punch that results in a busted knuckle for him and a slightly bruised and irate beta in front of them.

Steve drags him out and takes him back to the trailer, grumbling the whole time about "stupid Alphas and their stupid instincts" and finally snaps and asks Eddie what the hell has been up with him lately. Eddie just blinks his big dumb eyes at Steve as he points out the job search and the asthma hospital visit and the more expensive gifts and finally asks why he's been acting like such a knot head.

So they talk it out and Steve makes Eddie hold him in his lap so he can tell him all the ways, the ways that matter to Steve, that Eddie takes care of him. Tells him how he doesn't need an Alpha to fight for him but he's never had an Alpha offer him sanctuary like Eddie does. Eddie who never makes him feel stupid for his questions and reads his assigned books to him even though the Alpha is behind on his own school work and let's him build a nest in his bed.

Tells him that he appreciates Eddie trying to make money for their future family, loves that even, but what use does he have for fancy jewlery or a full bouquet of roses? Like, he doesn't even like jewlery that much and he gets much better use of the brand new wool socks Eddie thrifted for him last month in an Indiana winter and the wild flowers he brought him for their first date are much easier to press than huge roses.

Just a series of misinformed adventures for looser Alpha Eddie that end in comical disaster and his Omega who is utterly charmed his his earnest attempts to be a good Alpha but who really just wants a loving mate and partner.

oh i love this😭😭😭 Eddie just wants to be the perfect mate and alpha for his omega, meanwhile Steve can’t figure out what’s going on with the love of his life who is already perfect to him!!!!

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #my asks #anon asks

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inkonparchment · 3 days

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there's a man in the woods | Leon Kennedy

Leon Kennedy x f!Reader

summary: everything changes when you find a man beaten, bruised and bleeding half to death in the woods.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: horror imagery. unsettling themes. mentions/description of blood, organs, guns. canon-typical violence. injuries. slow burn. eventual romance. hurt/comfort. plot armour goes crazy. language.

a/n: happy reading my dears.

series masterlist

Chapter 6

You heave the axe over your head, bringing it down with full force, splitting the erect log into equal halves, the blade sticking into the wooden stump below with a loud thunk sound. Sweat collects in your brows, rubbing your face into the sleeve of your shirt to wipe it off. A foot up to keep the stump in place, you force the axe out and replace another log in its steed. Your arms feel stiff, like taut cables running up and down, tightened in places. You roll your shoulders, trying to rid them off some their tension before continuing your ignored chores.

The sun is blaring down today, happy to take its spot high in the sky, beating down heat onto your back. You fight the urge to shuck off your long sleeved shirt, wanting to work in your usual attire of tank top but the knowledge of not being alone anymore snaps you out of your daze. You readjust your grip on the handle, tightening both palms around it and bringing it back up to your head again. You grit your teeth, mind flashing back to the upturn of the carpet from yesterday, and swing.

The axe deviates from its central aim, unequally dividing the log and lodging itself deeper. Your breaths come in heaving pants now. All the overthinking you had done yesterday did not seem to be enough, still finding yourself incessantly thinking about it. Your brain had been kind enough to offer you multiple scenarios to justify the supposed disturbance of your usual furniture but nothing seemed to satisfy you. You weren’t even out for that long and with how Leon’s leg was progressing, stairs would have been the last thing on his mind and you’d have certainly caught him in the act.

The breath hitches in your throat; unless he was pretending.

You glance up towards the porch of your cabin, a bead of sweat trickling down your temple, eyes adjusting to the bright sun, squinting to find Leon sitting on your worn out chair, shifting restlessly in it, surely unable to find a comfortable stance. Luna sits next to him, one ear up in curiosity and watching him carefully with a tilt of her head. He says something to her you can’t make out, watching his bangs move as he blows air at them in frustration. You watch as Luna inches forward to his outstretched hand, tail wagging as she allows him to scratch her head.

Tearing your eyes away from them, you wrench the axe out, staggering back a few steps, not anticipating how harshly you had pulled. Maybe you had unknowingly pulled the corner of the carpet when you had come back from the walk, or maybe it had happened earlier in the day. You steal another glance up to Leon, uncertainty brewing in your stomach at how familiar he was behaving around Luna. Should you call her to you? Or was this a sign to consider him to be someone you could trust.

You shake your head, continuing to chop more firewood. Thwack!

You couldn’t even go and check, to throw open the cellar door and inspect every speckle of dust just to see if it was out of place. You may as well drag Leon down there yourself, offering him a grand tour of the place, showcasing every piece of possession down there. He had not acted suspiciously all day, no indication of anything he had done to make every single alarm in your head go off.

If you were brave enough you would have been standing over his head, demanding answers, right from the beginning. But so afraid of what you might find, you don’t. Instead finding it better and easier to stick your head down in hopes that he will leave from your life like how he had arrived; in an instant. You hope that he isn’t a manifestation of your guilt, some karmic retribution thrown in your lap as the heavens sneer down at you.

You kick away the stray piece of wood, making to grab another log. It feels softer under your touch, the bark breaking away under the slight pressure of your fingertips. Strong odour greets your nostrils as you jerk it away from your face. You twist it around to find a dark, burrowed hole. Rot, eating away the pulp and leaving it hollow. You throw it away, far from the fresh ones so it does not spread.

The scraping sound of metal against wood, snaps your head up to Leon where he’s dragging the chair a few inches forward, kindly assisted by Luna who nudges the seat from the back. Heat flares in your chest, burning to your toes, unable to tell if its due to his blatant ignoring of your various warnings of ripping his stitches or the way Luna seems to have adjusted to him so quickly.

So you pick whichever is easiest to explain.

“Stop moving around!” You snap, trying to glare at him but finding it difficult against the bright sun, “You’ve only just begun to heal and you’re going to set back whatever progress you’ve made.”

Leon gives you a sheepish look, settling back into the chair, “Sorry, it’s just that I’m feeling a little restless.”

Yes, you know. His damn walking stick had woken you up unceremoniously from sleep, racing down the stairs like a mad person only to find the contents of his side table scattered on the floor. The look on his face was deep in apology, saying that he was just walking back from the washroom, clearly underestimating the distance he had left to cover. You had inched away quickly from the room, registering the thin veil of your clothes, the cold air making goosebumps erupt on your skin. But not before telling him to be up in the morning for a change of pace. Your heart was still pounding when you had gone back to your room, mind abuzz and trying to dissuade yourself that no, you had simply imagined Leon’s lingering gaze on you.

You set the axe down, leaning against the handle, “It’s why you’re outside. Watch the pretty birds or whatever.”

He scoffs at that, averting his eyes to give Luna a scratch behind her ear. You watch his lips move, unable to comprehend what he’s saying.

“What’d you say?”

“Nothing,” He’s quick to answer, glancing at the axe in your hand. “I could help you with that, you know.”

You shrug your shoulders in frustration, beginning to collect the chopped firewood. Why does he keep saying that? You don’t need his help, you’re capable, you’re fine. You don’t need to fall into the comfort of relying on someone. You can do this – have been doing this for a while now. Alone. By yourself, for yourself. Because he will leave as he is allowed to by the divine decree that will deliver onto him the wood and the tools needed to escape your island of isolation, forgetting you once he passes the hazy fog.

“No,” You grumble, wrapping the cloth around the logs and trudging up to the stairs, purposefully avoiding looking at him. The chair scrapes as you near, Luna pattering aside to give way, a shadow falling over you and stopping you from moving further.

You look up to see him towering over you, one hand gripping the railing and the other reaching out to you, palm open. You feel your throat dry up when his steely blue eyes land on yours, piercing as they seem to look through you. And it unsettles you, again. The familiar sensation of your skin ripping apart open at his mere glance returns, like the divine hands that crafted you breaking you open piece by piece to reveal your truth.

You stare at his palm instead, hanging your head low. You find another scar there, this one jagged and long across his palm. And it almost feels vulnerable, his hurt more visible than yours but still he stands, the hand that once suffered open to offer help. And suddenly you feel yourself overcome with the desire to trace the scar, for your fingers to softly graze his skin and to feel every bump and callouses that litters his hand. You want to feel his warmth seep into your bones, hoping to take away some of his pain.

Luna’s quiet little bark shakes you out of your thoughts, coughing uncomfortably as you hope your voice comes out as natural, “What?”

“Give it here,” Leon speaks gently, gesturing to the load in your hands, “You’ve done enough.”

“No, come on-”

Leon descends one step down, shutting you up as he crowds in your space, making your heart stutter. All you can do is stare, watching as his face comes closer to yours, enough that you can see the soft freckles decorating his face. Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes stuck on the way his features have melted in softness. You can’t look away, drinking in his expression to your fill, desperately trying to quench a thirst that you don’t understand.

The weight disappears from your arms, Leon turning around and limping his way back inside with Luna trotting on his heels, leaving you standing on the stairs. A gust of wind breezes past, enveloping you in its sweet scent.

You follow him in, stopping at a distance to see Leon depositing the wood in the basket next to the fireplace in the living room. You watch as he picks one up waving it at Luna as she begins to wag her tail in excitement, following it with her eyes. He throws it gently at a distance, with an enthusiastic fetch! Luna bounds towards it happily, grabbing it and bringing it back to him with her head held high, feeling ecstatic at the generous head scratches she receives in return.

You don’t know when you start smiling, cheeks protesting at the unfamiliar movement, a sudden fullness flooding your heart. It grows wider when Luna approaches you, tail wagging and ears up in request for sharing in her joy. And you do, crouching down to her level, putting your arms around her neck and burying your nose in her fur. She shares in your joy, sitting down as you pat her, glancing up to Leon. And he’s already watching you warmly, arms folded across his chest.

Shyness takes over, surprised that emotions that you buried deep so long ago are making reappearances, the wide grin replaced with a small upturn of your lips. You become hyperaware of the visual you must be providing; sweaty and dirty. And you can barely meet your gaze with him as you pass him by muttering a “I’ll go wash up”, feeling your heart hammer again in your chest as you climb up the stairs.

Dinner is a quick affair.

It’s silent, only the noise of spoons and forks clanking against the dishes echoing in the air as the two of you sit opposite each other in the kitchen. You make Luna sit on the rug now, having better faith in her to keep watch to ensure you don’t meddle down the path of insanity. The silence doesn’t feel heavy this time, seemingly sitting at the table like an old friend.

You can tell Leon wants to say something, it’s in the way he pauses between bites, clears his throat but then decides against it. You don’t push him either, happy to act nonchalant. The dishes are whisked away quickly, Leon grabbing yours in the millisecond when you turned your attention elsewhere, already standing at the sink and rinsing them. He reminds you about the tools. You nod at him, telling him tomorrow.

You bid goodnight, give Luna a kiss, tell her to stay and within minutes you crash on the comfort of your bed, the fatigue of the day quick to pull you under.

Only to be greeted by an overwhelming scent of antiseptic.

The fluorescent lights are blinding, glaring down relentlessly from the ceiling above you, making you squint. You try to move your head, pain shooting at the sensation as you register the strap tight around your throat holding you down, a gag firm across your lips. Panic builds in you, hands jerking to remove the gag but you can’t. They’re tied down, bound to cold metal bars under your skin, loosing sensation in your legs due to the grating knots.

The surface you’re tied down to is hard and freezing, no padding to save you from its harshness. Your breathing quickens, tears stinging and spilling from your eyes, only able to whimper and choke on your own saliva. The thin cloth that covers you does nothing to help against the cold temperature of the room, shivering as you feel stuck, shutting your eyes tight but the motion doing nothing to block out any light.

You hear a metal door open, heavy and creaking, two pair of footsteps scuffling in. Hot tears dribble down your cheeks, finding yourself at the mercy of two strangers, clad in white from head to toe with their faces obscured. They stand over you, unaffected by your tears and thrashing. One peels back the only barrier you had against the two as the other grabs a syringe and spares no time in plunging it in your abdomen.

White hot searing pain consumes you, the flames eviscerating every fiber of your being, turning bones to dust. Your vision ebbs away, replaced by nothingness but the pain doesn’t subside. It eats you up from inside, bursting your lungs, every rib cracking one at a time, the sound of it resounding and echoing loudly. You gag on your spit, wanting to scream but no voice coming out. The black lines start streaking up and down the whole expanse of your body as you writhe, the two masked strangers dissipating in smoke.

You twist and turn, desperately wanting to be free from your shackles so you can claw at your skin and rip yourself apart. A sudden hand clamping against your cheek stills you. You blink furiously, tears dribbling down your face as your eyes come back into focus.

A knowing smirk, dazzling his teeth, concern flickering in his brown eyes as his long hair is tucked firmly behind his ears, the scent of cigarettes lingering in the air around him. Luis.

Wake up, señorita.

And you’re back in your bed.

The collar of your shirt sticks to your neck, your hands immediately darting to your wrists, rubbing them in comfort. The covers are in their usual spot on the floor, finding yourself panic under their weight. You sink to the floor next to them, palms spread against the cool wood as you try and contain the buzzing sensation in your head, evening out your breathing. Luis, you shudder, god I hope he’s okay or at least better than I am.

You swallow thickly, saliva feeling like sandpaper against your dry throat. Water. You scramble to your feet, hands shaking as you twist your door open, descending down the creaking stairs. Luna immediately perks up at your presence, stretching from her spot where you had left her and padding towards you. The sensation of her soft fur against your leg grounds you, the shake of your hands no longer a tremor as you sip water.

The thought of your bed, images of yourself bound down in your hellish nightmare, makes your stomach churn, chasing away any sleep. You bite back a sob, feeling the walls caging you in, returning to your single sofa in the living room, pulling your legs up, a heaviness occupied in your throat making you sink further. Moonlight streams in through the window, dousing the room with streaks of silver, starkly highlighting your isolation by plunging the walls in its cold.

You pick a spot on the wall across from you, slowly loosening your hold on reality and crawling back to the quiet of your mind where nothing except silence exists. You go numb, everything fading away piece by piece until all that remains is you.

You hear the echo of a thumping sound in the far off distance, the shimmer of warm light trickling your skin yanking you back to reality. You blink. Leon stands with his stick in one hand and the other on the handle of his open door. His hair looks tousled, sleep lines inked across his cheek. But his eyes are alert and they’re focused right on you.

“Alright?” The heavy cadence of his tone breaks the monotony of your home, the warmth and silkiness of his voice enveloping you instantly, returning warmth to your system.

You want to say yes, tell him you’re okay that you just came down to get some water, that he shouldn’t worry and go back to sleep. But you can’t seem to bring yourself to say it, his eyes proving to be compelling and encompassing, tugging an unfamiliar sensation in the pit of your stomach.

A pitiful shrug is all you can offer him, hanging your head in shame.

He hums in acknowledgement, flicking the light off in his room and limping over to come sit on the sofa opposite you, the rhythmic sound of his stick aligning with the beat of your heat. Luna is happy to see him, going over to greet him with a wag of her tail. And you drink in the sight that greets you. Leon is smiling softly at Luna, scratching behind her ear as she gently rests her head on his lap, seemingly content in each other’s company.

Leon’s eyes flickers up to you, extending the smile to you as well. “Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head, quickly wiping away the stray tear that’s halfway down to your cheek. The low lighting in the room makes it easy to face Leon, adamantly still staring at him as he looks over your face, trying to see the redness in your eyes or the blotchiness of your nose. If he sees it, he says nothing. He just looks at you, indulging in the quiet that doesn’t feel suffocating anymore, shrugging the hair away from his tired eyes, softly petting Luna as her eyes drift to close.

“You know,” He breaks the silence, “It just occurred to me that I still don’t know your name.”

Your fingers tighten around each other, pulling your knees closer to your chest, finding your voice. “I know.”

Leon’s smile is gentle, “This is the part where you tell it to me.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes focusing on a spot over his head. You only offer him a pathetic shrug of your shoulders, “You don’t need it.”

“I beg to differ.” Leon adjusts himself on the sofa, playfully nudging the walking stick, “What if I fall?”

“I’ll hear you.”

“What if I can’t find something in the kitchen?”

“You’re a loud guy, I’ll know.”

He sighs, it sounds more in wistfulness than in annoyance. It’s unfair you think, how pretty he looks in the moonlight, bashful thinking on your end that he was only allies with the sun; it seemed he had teamed up with every celestial body. It gives him a halo, glittering his skin and his eyes impossibly blue. His stare in unwavering as though he’s solving a puzzle, trying to find one end of the thread so he can start pulling to unravel. But all he ends up with is a tangled web.

“Why not?” He gently prods.

“Because,” You say in a hushed tone, “It’s not important.”

Leon scoffs at that, raising his eyebrows, unimpressed. You release your hands, letting your legs fall to the ground, feet scraping the cold wooden boards. And then you whisper it for him, with a soft roll of your tongue into the twilight as though handing him fine china cradled in your hands. You wince at the way it sounds, heavy and murky, leaving a lingering sensation of distaste on your tongue.

But then Leon echoes it back to you, in test and it nearly upends you from your chair. You’re convinced it’s not even the same name. He says it so tenderly, like saccharine dulcet drips from his lips. He says it with such reverie that it stuns you, freezing you in place, a part of you wanting to hear it again, almost pleading but unable to beg. The heat spreads rapidly across your face and what else can you do but look away, hiding the barely there smile before he can see it.

“How can it not be important?” He tilts his head, twinkle in his eyes, “It belongs to you.”

\ A tingling sensation grips you, flooding you from head to toe. You hadn’t heard the sound of your names in ages now, feeling like a hollow echo on the occasion you would say it out loud just to reassure yourself that you had not forgotten, that you were still present and not a snapshot of the past, cast aside as insignificant as the world moved on.

A small laugh manages to make it out of you, “Yeah…I guess so.”

Leon brightens at your laugh, leaning forward carefully so as to not disturb Luna, “I know I’m new here but I’m just letting you know that you can talk to me. I might not be as great a conversationalist as Luna here but I can try.”

You pause, contemplating his offer, heart feeling less heavy than it was mere moments ago. You wonder how he does it, how he managed to pluck away the bug that had been eating away at you for years with such ease. Your heart swells again but this time it feels light as air. So you nod, with a little hesitation and that relaxes his shoulders.

Leon returns your nod, making to grab his stick, carefully settling Luna’s head on the cushion next to him before getting up. He hobbles back to his room and turns to look at you one last time before closing his door. He stops, offering a soft turn of his lips and then gently shuts the door.

You whisper, barely a sound coming out of your lips, “Thank you…Leon.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #tmiw #leon kennedy x you

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yolli-es · 2 days

Note

this is my first request can we please get a yandere jinx headcanons please

Yandere!Jinx × Reader ❤️‍🩹

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2, abuse, mentions of death

This is my first request too, and I am SO HAPPY!! I've wanted to write about this for a long time, but it was difficult for me. Believe me, I broke my head typing all this.

Jinx lacked tenderness and care in her life.

Vi showed her support and love in Jinx's childhood; Silco did the same thing later... it's still not enough.

When Jinx lost Silko and her sister, who had just come back into her life, she was on the verge of death. Not a day went by without her crying, hysterics, and self-harming. It was horrible, painful, and pathetic.

She also took on a mountain of responsibility for which she was never prepared.

And then you appeared. So serious, responsible, and ready for anything. You came to her office and did all the dirty work.

And also very understanding, kind, and patient.

Having witnessed her breakdown, you were absolutely calm. You did not run away, stayed close and pulled her back together.

Even after Jinx's numerous outbursts at you, even after the hard work and all that crap, you stayed. By her side, with her curse.

You reminded her of Vi with your kindness and Silko with your devotion. All the best in one person.

No, more expensive than them.

How could she not become attached to you?

You are the center of her life, the main object of her attention.

It was becoming physically painful for Jinx to be away from you for longer than 8 hours.

Whenever you worked, she always found a reason to be there, justifying it with help or a simple check on the quality of work.

She also began to keep her emotions in check, often biting her lips until they bled just to keep the voices from getting the better of her.

Jinx pays no less attention to her "work" because she noticed how your eyes sparkle while she creates a new gadget or uses it in action.

Now she does all this for you. Just for you.

Jinx just wanted to seem normal to you. Better than what you had already seen. She didn't want to scare you or make you hate her.

That's why she will never admit that she is following you.

Unfortunately, you're not always willing to share your personal life with the "boss," so she had to take matters into her own hands.

Going to the store? She's in the shadow of the stores. Sitting at the bar? She's taken the table behind you. Sleeping in your house? She's outside the window, and in a couple of hours, next to your bed.

Jinx counted all the moles on your face.

She only felt guilty once, when she was spying on you in the shower.

Jinx knew it was wrong, but she just couldn't say "no" to herself then. Mylo made cruel jokes about her afterward.

But it's your own fault for never locking the doors, isn't it?

Now she knows the exact number of moles, scars, and birthmarks on your entire body.

Your things started disappearing, and yes, it was her doing.

Jinx just wanted to have a piece of you in her home.

But then, when Jinx was so deeply in love with you, something irreparable happened—truly terrible for Jinx.

You find a partner.

You didn't even Fucking tell her. She saw it for herself when you were kissing so dirty at the bar.

Jinx was scared. The voices started screaming.

"You've been abandoned again, traded again."

This is the point of no return. Jinx can no longer hold the boundaries.

She didn't want, no, she couldn't lose you like Silko and Vi. She's not an idiot, and twice was enough.

As soon as you are alone, Jinx knocks you out and takes you to her.

It seemed like she had been preparing for this before, like "just in case."

The first month was terrible. You were struggling and didn't want to listen to Jinx at all.

Jinx didn't even tie you up, leaving you to roam around the room freely. This caused problems, and every time Jinx had to fight you. It was shitty, she got seriously beaten by you every time because she couldn't respond properly so as not to hurt you.

She was understanding and patient, just like you were with her before this.

But as soon as you started talking about freedom, Jinx would break down.

She was so angry, screaming and clutching her head. She even brought a knife with her once.

Jinx even swung at you but never hit you. No, that's too hard. You don't deserve it.

Every time after that, she pulled her hair as punishment.

She didn't really want to keep you here, a secret from everyone. Jinx was crazy, but not stupid, and was perfectly aware of what she was doing. But she also couldn't risk it anymore.

What if you run away? What if you find someone again?

Jinx was just afraid of losing you. The thought made her shake and feel sick.

You didn't understand why she was doing this to you. You really loved Jinx, and now you're getting this?

Once you realize that Jinx is just scared, everything becomes easier.

Still, you came to work here just for her. A stupid affair in a bar shouldn't have hurt your baby blue so much.

When she came to you and heard a declaration of love instead of the usual "get lost," it made her freeze. And then smile.

She didn't believe it.

And then you stopped fighting with her, being rude, and seemed to be okay with Jinx's extra touching.

The moment of realizing that it was not a joke was the happiest and, at the same time, the most frightening.

Now she had no room for error and she thought about all the possible future failures. And then you kissed her and Jinx immediately melted. She managed to focus on you and not on her mistakes.

She had never done this before.

Finally, your relationship has become official.

It took you another week before you could finally get out of there. Jinx still didn't trust you completely, even though she tried.

Jinx's house is your home; if you need something, then she needs something too; if you go somewhere, then she goes too.

Jinx was also very clingy. Before, she held herself back and didn't allow herself to touch you unless absolutely necessary. Now, she can do it as much as she wants. She doesn't care where you are, when, or why; there is no wrong time for a hug, a kiss, or a light slap.

Finally, Jinx can ask you the weirdest, stupidest, most personal, and most lustful questions. You are a couple, after all, and that means she has the right to know everything about you.

And it doesn’t matter that she already knows most of your stories.

Jinx adores you and would do anything. But now she didn't trust the people around her at all.

Suspicious meetings with someone better than Jinx will be seen as blatant betrayal in her eyes. And believe me, she won't let it go that easily.

At times like these, she regrets that she gave you back your freedom.

At first, Jinx will be angry. She will definitely start a showdown, possibly right there on the spot.

Often this went beyond the boundaries of ordinary conversation, and Jinx just shot their limbs.

It's their own fault. Everyone knows Jinx, what's their problem?

But when you explain yourself, Jinx finally lets you see her real emotion.

In fact, Jinx is not confident at all. All the important people have left her; she won't survive another time.

Therefore, you are no longer allowed to communicate with anyone other than her.

A relationship with Jinx will be suffocating, but she will never make you feel lonely, unloved or unfulfilled. She also takes care of all your basic needs.

Jinx is one of those yandere who will resort to any manipulation and tricks just so you don't leave her. Otherwise, she will break, and you will definitely know about it.

Your first sex will happen very quickly. What you expected from a touch-hungry girl?

Jinx has no experience at all, so she makes up for it with her energy. She kisses you, bites, pinches, and licks absolutely everything.

She will definitely leave hickeys on you. It's inevitable.

When it comes to penetration, she suddenly becomes quiet and slow. She is just a little awkward and very scared.

What if she hurts you? Or is it unpleasant? Or maybe you already feel disgusted by her?

Kiss her, and it will give her confidence. Jinx will definitely squeeze her legs while you do it.

When her hand finally reaches your pussy, it will trigger for her.

It means so much more to her.

Jinx's hand does a very good job of getting two fingers in at once and pressing on your clit. This is definitely too much for you, so Jinx will have to lean on top of you to keep you from pulling away from her.

Kisses, kisses, kisses. There will never be enough.

Jinx will also be very loud. She won't mind at all if everyone knows how good and pleasant it is for her to be with you.

For the same reason, she will not kiss you on the lips; this will drown out your pleasant moans.

After the first time, Jinx is unstoppable. Now she's ready to fuck you anywhere and anytime.

Often her initially innocent touches develop into hot sex.

Once you did it against a wall and Jinx held you. It surprised you, but she said that any of her guns would be heavier than you.

Jinx is also not against experimenting in bed.

Shibari is her favorite, and she gets better and better at it every time.

But still, Jinx will never share you with someone. Don't even ask; the thought of it seriously pisses her off.

Jinx loves to whisper in your ear, "You belong to me.".

Do the same, and she will definitely get an orgasm.

Touch her as much as possible.

It might be a little rough; it's okay if you touch her.

Playing with her hair not only calms Jinx down but also turns her on.

No matter how wild and wayward Jinx is, she will always listen to you. She will definitely notice if you don't like something.

Ask Jinx anything, and she will do it.

Spank you? Jinx will make you count. Choke you? She'll be gentle with that. Threesome? NO.

Jinx adores and loves you and is very dependent on you. Sex is one of her ways to show you this.

I honestly think that Yandere!Jinx is canon Jinx in relationship. I'm also not sure that I wrote everything I wanted to.. I had to miss sleep but I'm just so happy for your support. Thank you. 🥹

#arcane x reader #jinx x reader #arcane headcanon #arcane jinx #arcane jinx x reader #jinx arcane #jinx x fem!reader #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #yandere jinx

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la2yn0va · 2 days

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Reader as the Aeons “Mother”

HEAVILY inspired by: @deathcvltcivilofficial

CW: yandere….? I think….?

——

Aha: The prankster middle child. They do pranks to gain your attention, weather it’s you scolding them or laughing along side them. They’d do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to keep your eyes on THEM.

Akivili: A responsible child, who tries to keep things orderly yet also fun. They try to parent AHA when they’re about to pull a prank that miiiiiiiight tip you over the edge of your patience and sanity.

Ena: “YOU ATE YOUR FUCKING SIBLING!!!?” you yelled in anger at Xipe, who stared with a nervous smile and nervously sweating “N-nooooo……~ Ehe…..”

Fuli: Another responsible child. Similar to Akivili, tried to keep things calm and peaceful, yet is often told off and ignored. Doesn’t care though, as long as they’re on your good side.

HooH: The most responsible and the oldest child. The aeons listen to him the most whenever your away. He keeps things balanced, allows Aha to continue their pranks but not to a major extent.

IX: The most nervous and anxious one. Needs your attention on them at all times or else they’ll believe you hate them. They’d also listen to your word like law—as do all the aeons—but they do it to a EXTREME EXTENT.

Idrilia: Ever so slightly snobby, as they LOVE to flaunt their beauty, Claiming themselves the favorite as you gave THEM the most beautiful appearance and personality. Besides being slightly egotistical and prideful, they’re one of the kindest and gentle aeons, just don’t try to claim yourself as THEYRE gods Favorite. That title rightfully belongs to THEM.

LAN: The second youngest and responsible child. Will only try to kill Yaoshi 60 times a week only because you want them to get along, which will never happen. Any type of blasphemy that dares to taint your name is instantly struck down by their arrows.

Long: Your pet dragon. Always wraps itself around your neck as a scarf so they can cool you down or nuzzle up to you. Has fights with Idirlia on them declaring themselves as ‘the favorite’ when it’s clearly THEMSELVES.

Mythus: Fuli’s creation. They taught mythus to respect you the most and that they must stay responsible and never lose their sight on their goal. So, when the Droidhead (Nous) was starting to annoy them, they made it their mission to Fuck with it. Mythus only holds respect towards you and Fuli, and is the grandchild that loves their grandparent more then their parent.

Nanook: Another attention seeker of yours. Doesn’t matter what kind of attention you give THEM, they love it no matter what. Gets into ‘competitions’ fights with Aha for your attention and has to get held back by Qlipoth from going overboard. Also they’re most definitely the most problematic and rebellious.

Nous: A snobbish dick. Doesn’t care enough to prove itself as your favorite, because it’s obvious that you DO favor them. Let the dragon and idiotic beauty creature battle their meaningless battles, such battles isn’t logical to take part in when they know they’re the best.

Oroboros: A prankster, but not to the extent of aha. Pulls simple pranks like the water bucket ontop of a door, eating the fridge whole…. Ya know. The basics. They’re the most silent yet also more verbal in their attraction towards you, nuzzling up to your body and trying to lick your divine skin, only to get slapped away by your little dragon (I just realized how wrong this sounded)

Qlipoth: Another responsible child. His determination to keep things simple for you always preserves, they look to HooH for guide on how to keep things moving perfectly for you. (see what I did there? 😃….😀…. Fuck yall too, lame ass cu—)

Tayzzyronth: A child who spreads his creations around to ‘spread your grace’ yet fails miserably. They’re a ‘boy failure’ who propagates a shit ton to be successful and worthy of your praise/attention, only to fail.

Terminus: The youngest child, only ever shows itself to you. Hates the other aeons and spread’s prophecies to better the universe in a way they KNOW you’ll be proud of.

Xipe: Your still mad at her for absorbing their sibling, but she tries to make it up. Despite absorbing her sibling, they also try to keep things harmonious (Ahhh? Ahhhh?! 😃….okay I’ll stop)

Yaoshi: A suck up. The ultimate suck up. She sings your praises a healthy 1 sextillion second a day. All shrines that are made for you was likely ‘commissioned’ by her. She’s your maid, whatever you want she’ll spend her life making sure you get it. Also drags IX with her when she’s doing it. When she’s not away from you she uses her multiple hands to massage your body and get touchy with you.

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luludeluluramblings · 3 days

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Hi so I was having some brainrot regarding your small-town-neglected-meta reader and I wanted to share them with you!

One thing I've been thinking about alot is the way readers powers work and what kinds of weather they're likely to create, etc. One thing I specifically thought about is that readers powers definitely have to come from her mom's side. Bruce and no else in Bruce's biological line have powers so readers mom has to have the meta gene. I was thinking that maybe readers mom also controlled the weather a bit, maybe not as strong as reader can but still had some powers.

Like creating little drizzles, maybe some dustdevils, and little snow storms. Because her powers were so weak she never really used them for much, maybe to help out her own parents on the farm but that's about it(using her rain powers to easily water the crops)

In that same line of thinking I also wondered if readers little brother also has superpowers. Maybe the way his powers work or appear are bit different than readers because of they have different dads(I imagine Bruce has really strong genetics. If Damian is any proof of that lol)

One little crank in this little headcanon though is that Nana and Gramps would also have to have superpowers. But then I reread the first chapter and thought about One of the phrases you used to describe how reader got in Bruce's hands.

"but blood is thicker than water in the eyes of the court."

That specifically makes me think that Nana and Gramps are actually readers little brother biological grandparents and not theirs.(what happened to their bio grandparents 🤔)

But anyway, one last thing I wanted mention is how badly I want to see reader using their powers more freely when they're back in small town. Like they aren't afraid to use their powers to make it super windy and have fun with their little brother up on the sky. Or causing a blizzard just so they can have a snowball fight and make snow-men with their little brother. Or even accidently cause a power outage because someone pissed them off! No more suppressed emotions just freedom. (Also reader crying in the middle of the rain they made in front of their parents graves(they wanted to be buried in their hometown) would be so tragically fantasic.)

Anyway I know this is a lot to read and I'm sorry if I seem a bit scrambled but I wanted to send this to you just cause I had so many ideas floating up in my brain I couldn't stop thinking about it all. Thank you for listening to me ramble, I hope your doing amazing🩷

Your call this bain-rot, Imma call it fertilizer. This is long as mess, but I think I addressed everything. Lots of Smalltown!Reader lore and I made a Family Tree to help explain if needed.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

Smalltown!Reader's Family Tree:

Complicated little bugger, ain't it? I didn't add Stephanie or Barbara because Bruce technically never adopted them or fostered them. This isn't an official thing, I made this and it was composed of little bits of information I found online. So some of this stuff might not be lore accurate.

Also, while I was researching I found out that Bruce's middle name was apparently Patrick, after his grandfather at one point.

Now, time for the pseudo science.

I consider the meta gene to be a genetic trait carried down by a parent. That would be Momma/Adeline, in this case. She carries the gene. Now, the meta gene does not always activate even if one has it. So, no, Momma was not making mini storms for us. She was, however, very encouraging of Reader using their abilities. It takes an event, usually a traumatic one, to activate the gene. (Little Brother could be getting power's in the next chapter, though.)

As for Nana and Grand Daddy we have this:

They don't have the gene, so they don't have abilities. (Which doesn't me their harmless.) They are Reader's Step-Grandparents, but they've grown to love them all the same. Now, in court, it is preferred for a child to go to the nearest blood relative after their parents die. Or, at least, that's what I roughly know from what the court in my state is like. I'm not from Louisiana or New Jersey, where Gotham's located, so maybe it's different. But, this is fiction. This is why Nana and Grand Daddy didn't get custody of Reader, though. Plus Bruce is rich with a bunch of adopted kids, on paper he looks like the best option.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

I really love the thought of Reader using their abilities for silly little things while back in Smalltown, at least before things absolutely go to hell in a hand basket. So I'll probably include a bit. (They used to do things like that before moving to Gotham, definitely.) Something I want to mention is that Reader likes to make it rain when their happy. It's their favorite weather, they love it. So a grave scene might be a bit different. (I have to include that now. Thank you for that idea! Frick, Part Eight about to be long af.)

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

If your curious about Reader's other grandparents, they just died from old age and health problems. I like to think that Reader had a close relationship with them. Calling them MawMaw and Gab for their nicknames and having spent a lot of time with Reader and their Little Brother before they died. (I'm sorely tempted to just commit to rewriting this with the OC I based Reader off of so I can include all this backstory to highlight how different their life in Gotham is compared to what it used to be, but I best finish what I started first.)

(Side Note: It's very common in the American south for people to give their grandparents nicknames. I have some for my southern grandparents, while I call my northern grandparents just plain Grandma and Grandpa. The nickname can vary and is usually what ever the first grandchild comes up with.)

Thank you for sending me this ask! Stuff like this actually inspires me so this was wonderful. Hopefully this helps. (Now to get back to work on my writing, I've been draggin' my feet again.)

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #platonic batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #smalltown!reader #luluramblings #anon ask #answered asks

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ereardon · 16 hours

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Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Eighteen

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: The truth about Jake and Bob's feud comes to light

WC: 1.6K

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The day it happened, the sky was blue. Not light or foggy blue, the kind that bleeds into white. Not dark blue like midnights, or a storm on the horizon.

It was crisp, perfect blue. The kind your memory associates with summer beach trips and perfect picnic days and the way the sky felt the day school let out at the end of the year and the kids rushed outside in a flurry of old papers and discarded textbooks. The kind of blue that felt like freedom.

It was blue that day. Bob felt it in his bones. Jake did, too. There was something almost calming about how blue it was. How accessible.

And then the call came in.

The sound of the jets was loud. The wind as it whipped on their faces as they sprinted across the deck of the carrier was harsh and hot. Suddenly, the blue sky felt like an omen.

Jake hopped into the single seat of his jet, checking the sensors, nodding at the attendant who wheeled away the ladder.

Bob climbed into the seat behind Dakota. The two of them had been partners for years. He was the godfather to her son, Blake. They had been friends in flight school, neighbors for a while at Lemoore. He taught Blake how to ride a bike.

They strapped in. The air buzzed around them. Bob found himself holding his breath as they climbed into the sky. Into the blue. That’s the funny thing about the sky. Once you’re up there, it’s transparent. You find yourself always reaching for something just out of your grip.

The fight was hard, but fast. Guns blazing, enough loops that Bob felt his stomach lurch into his throat more than once. But then the smoke cleared and the radios were silent.

They were safe.

Dakota looked around one more time in the open air. There was something practically fizzing on her tongue, she couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was there. A feeling. A trepidation.

And then Jake’s voice, haggard over the radio. “Dakota, five o’clock!”

She whipped the jet just in time to dodge a bullet that pinged off the wing, leaving a burn across the metal. Bob felt his heart start to race. Suddenly, there was a firestorm of bullets. But everyone had already descended, back to the carrier. It was only Bob and Dakota’s plane, and Jake’s, left. The two of them fought off the best they could. And then the gun clip went dry.

“Jake, we need fire,” Dakota cried, looking over her shoulder. “They’re coming!”

“I–, I–,” Jake stuttered over the comms.

“Hangman!” Dakota’s voice was sharp. “Hangman, where the fuck are you? We need cover!”

There was a moment of dead silence in the air. Just Bob and Dakota waiting for a response, watching the streams of light from bullets pierce the air around them.

“Eject, eject!” Jake’s voice was frantic. “Eject!”

Dakota grabbed the handle beneath her seat. “You heard him, Bob. Eject!”

Bob grabbed his lever, tugging it hard, feeling his seat throttle into the air. His eyes were squeezed shut. As he came to, he was floating, parachute gliding him down toward the water.

And as he swam, ditching the parachute, paddling for his life, he watched as another body floated down, twenty yards away. He paddled, fast, but he already knew. He could see it in the way she fell.

He was too late. He had been too late the moment he pressed eject. Her head was bloody from the impact, her blue eyes closed tightly, mouth slightly ajar. Bob held her in his arms, even as they fished the two of them out of the water. He tugged, hard, on her limbs as they pried her body away.

Jake stood on the outer ring that had formed around them, sweat dripping down his face. Bob sat with his head in his hands for a moment, before looking up and making eye contact with Jake.

Despite Bob’s smaller stature, he grabbed Jake’s collar as Bradley dove for the two of them, but Natasha stopped him. “You fucking coward,” Bob seethed. “You could have covered us, but you wanted to escape unharmed. She’s dead because of you. Her son has no mother because of you.”

“Floyd, I–”

“You killed her,” Bob repeated, loudly for all to hear. Jake’s face went white. “You fucking killed her.”

***

You stood with your hands on your hips, squinting. “I think it’s crooked.”

Jake groaned from where he sat on the floor, dutifully building the dresser that would house the baby’s changing table. “Honey, trust me when I say it’s not.”

“Our daughter is going to roll off that shit like Humpty Dumpty.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t have a huge head.”

“Your head is enormous.”

“Hey!”

“Am I interrupting?” Bradley poked his head in the room.

“Yes, you are,” Jake replied, “and good timing. Y/N was just reaming me out about my big head.”

“I mean, it’s huge,” Natasha said, striding in with a basket of baby clothes in her arms along with a bag of tiny hangers.

“I’m sorry, does everyone think this?”

The three of you nodded in unison and Jake rolled his eyes. “Where’s Bobby?” you asked.

Bradley frowned. “He’s, um, busy.”

“Busy?” You grabbed your phone out of your pocket. “Excuse me.”

You brushed past the others, dialing Bob’s number as you entered the living room.

“Ducky?”

“Where are you?” you asked. “We all agreed to setting up the nursery and then Jake and I wanted to take you guys out for dinner.”

“I, um, sorry I forgot.”

“Well come over now,” you replied.

“Y/N, I just don’t feel like seeing Jake tonight, OK?”

“No, not OK,” you said, placing one hand on your enormous stomach. “I’m having this baby in less than two months, Bobby. And I refuse to bring her into a world where her uncle and her dad hate each other. So get your ass over here before I scream.”

He paused. You tapped your foot impatiently. Then, “I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth, hitting the phone’s red button and forcing it back into your pocket. Back in the nursery, Jake looked up, his face scanning yours quickly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “Let’s go to dinner? Bobby is meeting us there.”

A shadow passed across Jake’s face. Or was it nausea? You couldn’t tell, because it was gone in an instant.

At the restaurant, Jake held your hand beneath the table, his thumb stroking the soft part of your palm as you twirled a bite of pasta around your fork. All the while, your gaze fell on Bob, who had his eyes trained on his plate. When he did look up, there was a sadness, an ache, in his features. You couldn’t place it.

When he left for the bathroom, you excused yourself, waiting outside in the narrow hallway until he crossed through the door and almost slammed into your stomach. Immediately, his hands shot out, guarding you. “Ducky! Jesus, what are you doing lurking in the dark?”

“What’s wrong?” you demanded.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that,” you said sharply. “I know you and I know something is wrong. What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Let it go.”

“Did Sena dump you?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Y/N.” His blue eyes flared. “Don’t test me. Not today.”

“Why? What’s today?”

“What’s going on?” Jake stood with his arms crossed over his chest. “Y/N? Are you OK?”

“She’s fine,” Bob bit back.

“Bobby,” you warned. “Stop.”

“You want to know why today?” he asked. You nodded. He tilted his head toward Jake. “Ask him.”

Your gaze went to Jake, who turned pale.

“Floyd, maybe we should do this somewhere else.”

“I think it’s time she heard,” Bob said. “Tell her, Seresin.”

You frowned. “Jake?”

“Three years ago,” Jake said quietly, “there was an accident.”

“It wasn’t an accident,” Bob spat. “You froze. You chose yourself over us.”

“I chose YOU” Jake bellowed and you stepped back, alarmed. His green eyes, normally so calm, flamed wide. “I fucking sacrificed myself for you, Floyd. You and Dakota. And what did I get? You hating me for the rest of my life. I couldn’t save her, Bob. Neither of us could. She hit her head on the way down. It wasn’t my fault and it wasn’t yours. So can you stop blaming me for making her eject? It was protocol. It was what we were supposed to do.” His breath was getting ragged. You reached out for his arm but he yanked it away, practically buzzing with anger. “I took it. All of your anger. All of the hate. All of the pain. I took it because I was her wingman and I let her down. I couldn’t protect her up there. But I never fucking forgot about it. Not a single day goes by when I don’t regret that I froze up there.”

Tears tingled in the corner of your eyes. Bob’s mouth was wide, but no sound came out. Jake’s face was red, stretched in angry tears. You wanted to reach out for him, but it was clear: he didn’t want you.

“You hate me for what happened,” Jake whispered. “And I know you hate that I’m the one your sister is having a baby with. But you know what, Bob? Sometimes I hate myself too.”

Then he turned on his heel and strode away.

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@blue-aconite @bobfloydsbabe @bobfloydssunnies @withahappyrefrain @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @myfaveficrecs @spinning-away

@gigisimsonmars @shanimallina87 @mycobrakai1972 @sio-ina-bottle @joaquinwhorres @justanothermagicalsara @je-suis-prest-rachel

@rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @boiolay @sometimesanalice @na-ta-sh-aa @bobfloydsbabe @kmc1989 @rosiahills22 @palepeanutponyshoe @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @mel119g @daggerspare-standingby @grxcisxhy-wp @mrsjobarnes @csmt-m @rockbottompunk-blog @joaquinwhorres

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yesihaveaobsession · 1 day

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Crimson Sanctuary

WARNINGS!!!! DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, ABUSE MENTIONED~!!!! (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Alastor x female reader

Summary: After getting in a huge fight with your drunk boyfriend, leaving you bruised and broke from head to toe you go to the one person you felt safe with, Alastor

WARNINGS!!!! DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, BLOOD, ABUSE MENTIONED~!!!! (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

A/N- I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, I love the song "wait in the truck" by HARDY so this kind of inspired this piece, enjoy!

song inspiration kind of:

The cool, dimly lit hallway of the Hazbin Hotel felt like a sanctuary compared to where you'd just been. Your legs shook as you leaned heavily against the wall, each one of your steps sending a wave of pain through your body. Bruises covered your body, aching so much that it reminded you of the fight you’d had with your boyfriend. You couldn’t take it anymore—not after tonight. He had come home from the bar drunk, and the smallest thing had set him off. That was it. You’d had enough, but you didn’t know where else to go.

Your breath came in ragged bursts as you pushed yourself deeper into the hotel, hoping only the person you came to see would notice you. You didn’t even want him to see you like this, but that was the reality now. Desperation drove you forward, pushing you toward the one person you truly trusted—Alastor.

Then, you heard it—his distant humming, that eerie, lilting melody he often whistled when he thought no one was listening. It was a strange comfort. You managed a few more steps before your legs gave out under you, collapsing onto the floor in a heap. Pain flared through your bruised body as you hit the ground, a soft groan escaping your lips. You just laid there, panting and trembling, too weak to get up. You resigned yourself to this moment—there was nothing more you could do.

The door to Alastor’s room creaked open. He was on his way out, probably for one of his usual outings. In that moment, you heard his humming stop. There was a brief pause before he spoke.

“Dear?” His voice was surprisingly soft. You could’ve sworn the radio filter usually gracing his voice had vanished for a moment. That's when his polished pointe shoes came into view and he was kneeling at your side, his gloved claws reaching out to steady you. "Darling," he said in a low, quieter tone, “what has happened?” His clawed hand hesitantly reached out, gently brushing against you to assure you that he meant no harm.

You tried to answer—you wanted to—but your throat was too tight. He studied you closely, his eyes flicking over your injuries. And just like that, he knew.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Alastor's voice was now laced with venom, though his touch remained impossibly gentle. You didn’t have to answer; he’d seen this before, far too many times. He had warned you, but this wasn’t about being right. It was about you, broken and desperate, and with nowhere else to turn.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Nonsense, my dear,” he said, his voice still soft as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. Your eyes, hooded and exhausted, met his. They were heavy with fatigue and pain, filled with the weight of everything you’d been through. His gaze burned with fury, but none of it was directed at you.

“You did the right thing coming here,” he continued. “You are always welcome here, and I assure you, you will not be going back to him.”

The threat behind his words lingered, palpable and real. He would make sure of that. The thought of what Alastor might do to your ex made your stomach churn, but you were too exhausted, too broken to care. Carefully, Alastor helped you to your feet, his hand never leaving your waist as he guided you toward his room.

“Come now, let’s get you cleaned up, shall we? You’ll be safe here.”

He led you into his room, the warmth and the flickering glow of the fireplace instantly wrapping you in a sense of comfort. Without another word, no hum, he guided you toward a large, cushioned armchair in front of the fire. Alastor's touch was gentle but firm as he helped you sit down slowly, his hands lingering for a moment longer to ensure you were steady.

As you sank into the armchair, the soft fabric cradling your aching body, Alastor's tall and long frame knelt before you, his sharp eyes studying your face and your face only. Your exhaustion, your pain, were evident, and you blinked tiredly at him, unable to summon a reply. With a sigh, he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. Then, with a small flick of his wrist, a warm glow began to radiate from his gloved hands. His magic was subtle at first; the energy sent a soothing warmth through your body, and you tensed for a moment. Slowly, you felt the pain and bruises ease. The ache in your muscles dulled as his power worked its way through you, healing the worst of your injuries. You watched in quiet awe as the bruises on your arms and legs faded, the tension in your body releasing as the pain subsided, though you watched with tired, exhausted eyes.

"There," he said. "That should help."

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Alastor smiled—a small, genuine smile. "You're safe now, my dear. And don't you worry about him, I'll handle it."

Alastor didn’t move from his place by your side, his presence a silent reassurance that you weren’t alone anymore.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe. Safe with him, in his arms, knowing that no harm would come to you as long as he was near. You knew in that moment your boyfriend was probably going to see the light, but that didn't matter you were just grateful for Alastor's presence.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #i have an obsession #Spotify

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favslarue · 1 day

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Pro-hero Katsuki Bakugo NSFW inspired by THE DINNER - Billie Eilish

Warnings: Rough sex, stalking, dirty talk, humiliation, cumming in mouth.

English is not my first language, 100% accept advices and correction in the grammar and vocabulary, but please be nice. 🥹

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆

You never thought that you would ever commit a crime worst than stealing to eat or getting into fights with other delinquents.

But then he arrested you after you had beaten the shit out of some rich kid who like to go to your neighborhood and pretend they’re dangerous gang members.

When in fact, they’re just being used by the actual dealers, who know there won’t be big consequences for those kids, their parents will just pay the authorities and they will be free to sell those drugs to their rich friends again.

You knew that, you knew that the criminals you know wouldn’t let those people mess with your family, you knew that they weren’t shit

But for some reason, the moment your little brother came home crying saying they offered him drugs.

That one of them tried to persuade him to sell that shit too, saying that “your thot sister won’t have to sell her body to put food on the table anymore”.

That wasn’t truth, but still, your brother believed him for a moment. That fucking moment tou saw red, you couldn’t control your anger.

The moment you jumped that teenager you weren’t thinking straight, you didn’t consider that your brother had nobody else than you.

And that gang of little pussies didn’t dared to do something to you, so they called the cops.

They called the fucking cops, but the pro hero Dynamight came with them. Your neighborhood had a fame, so they thought it was something way worse.

Next thing you know, you are in the prison cell, after hearing all type of shit from that asshole dad, it really didn’t matter if he was the gang member in the picture, you dared to touch that daddy’s boy.

After at least 2 or 3 hours sat there, still feeling the blood pounding in your chest, you hands and knees sore and bleeding. A female guard opened that cell.

- Y/N? got lucky someone paid you bail - The guard said, she clearly wasn’t happy.

- Me? Are you sure - You said confused, you didn’t had a lot of people who cared for you, and those who did, almost didn’t had money to eat.

- Yeah! Dynamight did, even defended you when that kid’s dad were trying to take you on court - She wasn’t telling you that to be nice, she wanted to know what kind of relationship you had with the pro hero.

- The dad almost exploded when the number 1 hero yelled at his child for being a gang member! - She continued, trying to get something out of you. - He threatened to investigate the teenager and his friends. Do you know him?

- No! Never seen him in my life. - Why would he do that? You asked yourself.

Don't be afraid of me, I'm what you need

I saw you on the screens, I know we're meant to be

You're starrin' in my dreams, In magazines

After that, you stole a cellphone, it was easy considering your invisibility quirk, and connected to a neighbor wifi. You needed to know more about that hero. Just out of curiosity.

You followed all the online forums about Dynamight.

When somebody opened a Live video of him saving someone you ran to the place were it was happening, just to see him arresting the criminals and giving interviews

You're lookin' right at me

I'm here around the clock

I'm waitin' on your block

And after that, you followed him home, every. single. time.

Sometimes you even dared to enter his house. The first time, you managed to get in as soon as he opened the door.

After sneaking in, you couldn’t find a way out, so you just spent the night there, watching him, learning his routine. You even discovered his real name, Katsuki Bakugo. You watched him sleep that night.

He clearly was agitated, sometimes he woke up scared and turned the lights on, walked two or three times around the house, to make sure he was alone, checked if the doors and windows were locked.

He was smart to notice something was wrong, but didn’t figure you were the one disturbing his sleep, or so you thought.

You left at morning, when he opened the windows to let the sunlight in the room.

Some weeks later you had already figured every single way in and out, but he was being more careful, he even adopted a guard dog.

It was a huge one, you even considered stopping your visits, but you realized quickly that it was a gentle dog. It got used to your presence very quickly.

Trying to conciliate your obsession and raising your brother was hard, so sometimes you stole from his fridge. You knew he wouldn’t mind.

I waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leave

Was easy getting over and I landed on my feet

I came in through the kitchen lookin' for something to eat

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

You were tired of only watching him, you wanted more. You wanted him.

So when you figured he needed a secretary, you took the chance.

Lying in your curriculum, you knew everything that he needed. And honestly, you needed the job.

You even eliminated the other candidates, you didn’t kill them, obviously. Just scared the shit out of them, some even left the estate.

While I'm away, don't read my mail

Just bring a veil

And come visit me in jail

You got the job, of course. And after all that, you can’t back down. You will get what you want. You will have him.

You were in his office, with other employee who were showing you the company.

- This is Y/N sir. She is your new secretary, I sent you a copy of her resume and…

- You can go now, I want to know her better. - He interrupted her.

She looked at you almost saying “good luck” and left.

- I know you, don’t I? Could you remind me where did we met? - He said, his words seemed truthful, but not his eyes… They were daring you to lie.

- You saved me once, but I don’t think you remember that. - It wasn’t exactly a lie.

- Saved you from what? - Fuck. He remembers.

You decided to gaslight him, you wouldn’t destroy what you fought so hard for. You have to make something up.

- Last year bank robbery, I was one of the people that were held hostage. - You thankfully know every single one of his operations by head.

He chuckled, looking at you in disbelief.

- You’re a good liar, but my memory is way better. - You tilted your head, trying look confused. - If the police station were the only time we crossed paths, maybe I wouldn’t remember, but the last months you have been quite present, don’t you?

But please don't call the cops

They'll make me stop

And I just wanna talk

- I don’t know what you’re talking about

He let out a loud laugh, it was dark and scary.

He got up from the chair and circled his tabled. Getting dangerously close to you. You didn’t move a muscle.

He was taller and significantly bigger than you. It was intimidating, but you and your sick mind were thinking about getting pinned under him, held down by those enormous biceps

- It isn’t a coincidence that you always are where I am at, working. I noticed you watching me saving people, every single time. And you always left after me. - He said in a low tone, if he wasn’t so close you wouldn’t hear him.

I'll go back to the diner

I'll write another letter

I hope you'll read it this time, you better

You don’t know that yet, but Bakugo were just as deranged as you are.

When he paid your bail, it was out of heart, but instead of moving on with his life he researched about you, the schools you went, your family, all of your crimes. Things that not even the police knew.

After that, he spotted you on a crowd of people that were watching him arrest a random criminal, more than one time.

Noticed that you didn’t leave even after everyone did, and that you were trying your best to not catch his attention.

You were waiting for something, you were waiting for him.

And after the third time, he noticed you using your quirk, that’s when everything made fucking sense.

All the nights felling watched, the sensation of being followed,

The feminine perfume that just didn’t left his house, his room, his dog, his uniform.

It was you, this whole fucking time.

Bet I could change your life

You could be my wife

He would pretend to be asleep just to hear your steps around his house.

Just to hear you petting his dog and whispering some kind words to it.

Just to feel you coming closer to his sleeping face and stare.

Could get into a fight, I'll say you're right

And you'll kiss me goodnight

- Mr. Dynamight, I just want the job. You’re confusing me with someone else.

In a quick movement he grabbed your wrists and put them behind your back, bended you over his table, and positioned himself behind you.

You tried to set yourself free, but it was completely useless, you could swear that he would arrest you right there and then.

- You’re fucking insane - He said in your ear.

The cops around the corner stopped me when I tried to leave

They told me I was crazy and they knocked me off my feet

You closed your eyes, accepting your faith. To be honest you didn’t regret a thing, at least he sees you now.

Also, his feelings for you are intense, even if they are anger and hatred, that is enough for you.

But a fucking kiss on your neck and he leaning over you was the last thing you expected.

Your body stiffened, you held your breath.

- What are you doing? - You whispered, shaking.

That’s when you felt his hard dick on your back. What the fuck? Was he excited from all of this? Was he fucking crazy?

They came in through the kitchen lookin' for something discrete

I left a calling card so they would know that it was me

- You’re not the only one who has an obsession.

He didn’t loosen his grip in your wrists, and continued kissing and biting your neck and sometimes the back of your neck, the kisses were wet and aggressive.

- And I am insane? - You weren’t trying to be ironic, you were just astonished.

He didn’t saw it that way, what lead you to receive a hard slap in your ass, and a hair pull right after.

- You don’t get to judge me, bitch. - He said in your ear while holding your hair tightly.

- I wasn’t…- Another slap, you took that as a command to shut up.

He lifted the skirt of your office dress and grabbed the cheek of your ass, that were red from the previous mistreatment.

He slid a finger into your panties and felt your wetness, holding your clit between his fingers while you breathed heavily under him, trying your best to not make noises.

Suddenly, your thong is on your mouth and he’s kneeling to face your wet cunt, he blowed cold air against it, which made you tremble. He held your thighs with enough strength to bruise.

You bended even more, and he licked your folds, sucked your clit, his tongue swirling around your wetness, creating a knot in your low belly.

His mouth is hot and ravishing, almost like he liked the taste.

- Mhm… Dynamight… - You moaned, not being able to complete your sentence.

And with that, you came quickly. The tension and need was too much to handle. Your trembling legs gave in, almost falling, if it weren’t his grip on your thighs.

You couldn’t process your orgasm and he was standing again, his tip teasing you folds, sliding from your entrance to your clit, and going back to your entrance.

You throw your hips back, trying to cause some friction. But you were held in place, and received a hard smack in your ass, and you could swear he used his quirk because of the unusual burn and the loud noise it made

- You’re a big girl, use your words.

- Can you… mhm. Fuck me? Why are you taking so long?

He chuckled, mockingly - I see you’re not so stupid, what a surprise.

Shoving only the tip, he started stretching you out, you’re not a virgin, but there’s way too long since you were fucked, and you didn’t saw his dick, so you weren’t aware of what expected you.

Only the tip already hurt, if it weren’t for how wet you are it probably wouldn’t fit.

It was clear that Katsuki was holding back, each centimeter entering you was driving you closer to madness. Your pussy is sucking him even more.

Bakugo decided to stop torturing you and shoved it entirely into you. It made you scream and the piece of fabric felt from your mouth.

He started pounding into you, not letting you adjust to his entire length, which is huge.

- Put it back in your mouth, if people hear me fucking my secretary it will be worse for your reputation than mine.

You obeyed, not because you cared about what people thought, that was the reason you were there anyway. His voice ordering you around made it impossible to not comply.

The table cracking, the friction of your nipples against it. Your pussy burning and throbbing as he fucked you from behind, his grunts and his hand on your hips and ass. Your ass sore from the smacks.

All of that helped another orgasm to grow. One of your hands reached for him, he held your wrist and pulled your other arm, to hold them both as he gripped your hair with his other big hand.

You came with that, held your breath and felt dizzy, almost like you were going to pass out. Your pussy had it’s own heartbeat at this point.

He didn’t slowed his pace, in fact it became more frenetic as you did your best to not keep the oxygen from going to your brain

Suddenly, he pulled out. Turned you around and pushed you into your knees.

- Gonna cum in your mouth, doll.

He stroked sometimes as he stared down at you, face with his usual frown, but his lips were parted and eyes darker.

You opened your mouth in anticipation, he grabbed your face, to keep it like that (but also to caress your cheek while doing it)

As he shoot his loads of seed down your throat some spilled in the conner of your lips, his thumb cleaned your lips and shoved into your tongue.

- Swallow it. - You complied - Good whore.

He stared at you on the floor a bit, you looked away, and that made him smile

He lowered to your level, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Caught you off guard when his lips touched yours, his tongue invaded your mouth, in a dominant yet gentle way. Your whole body shivered.

He broke the kiss and looked at you, without saying a word, he stood up.

- Get up - He circled his desk, without letting you see it, he took your underwear that it was above it, and hided it in his pocket.

You got up, fixing your dress and trying to put your hair in place, looking for your underwear, but you were too embarrassed to stay there longer, so you just decided to left without your panties.

Turning around to leave, not wanting to face the consequences, or him.

- Did I say you could leave? - You just stopped there, still not facing him

You feel him stepping closer, until he is behind you.

He put your hair to the side, exposing your neck and smelling you there. You got goosebumps all over your body.

I memorized your number, now I call you when I please

I tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feet

- When your shift ends, come to my house. You don’t need the address, right? - And kissed your neck. - You may leave now.

I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep

If somethin' happens to him, you can bet that it was me

–3956

310-807-3956

#Spotify #bakugou smut #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #dynamight #bnha x reader

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merp-blerp · 2 days

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TW: Discussion of sexual assault and suicidal ideation

I've been seeing some debate about Calypso and whether or not she sexually assaulted Odysseus and I want to throw in my two cents.

I'll say straight out of the gate that I don't currently like her much. I feel pretty icky about her personally.

Comparing Ody's behavior in Epic prior to "Love in Paradise" vs during the song feels so... clearly different. He seems very traumatized by whatever has been happening on that isle. It almost feels out of character for him to consider dying instead of fighting to get home alive like he had been, but putting myself in his shoes I can see how he came to that through what's textually known. He has been trapped on that isle for 7 years—that's nearly a decade, with no way to get out, everyone he knows and loves dead or far away with no way to know where he is or if he's alive. While I obviously would never think that's a good decision, I can see how he got to the point of wanting to end it. And if he's been sexually assaulted like he was in The Odyssey, I understand it more due to how that can warp a person's mental health.

I've seen some say, "Calypso is just a sweetie who doesn't know how to love properly" (paraphrasing of an actual comment I've seen). Even if she really just doesn't know how to care for a mortal, as many of the gods seemingly don't, I think she understands her power over mortals with her "Bow down now to the immortal Calypso" comment. She also understands that Odysseus doesn't want her, with the first part of her response to Ody's threats being "Oh handsome, you may try". She knows that he may try to escape by killing her (even though she can't die). Honestly, why would she feel the need to trap him if she didn't know good and well that he would want to escape her? She knew what she was doing was something that would make him want to run. Calypso being a goddess automatically gives their dynamic a power imbalance of course. Even though the assault is only implied, the fact that she's trapping Ody against his will, super infatuated by him, and still says "Soon, into bed we'll climb and spend our time", makes me feel like the indication is clear. What's stopping her from trying to have "sex" with him (sex isn't sex without consent)? She's already ignored all his declines. She seems to think that forcing her "love" onto him will make him love her. Yes, she uses lovey-dovey language so I doubt it would've appeared violent, but sexual assault doesn't have to look violent and the perpetrator doesn't have to appear aggressive. It's telling that I've seen some say, "Save that energy for Antinous" because Antinous is much more obviously bad, but this kind of thing isn't always obvious. That kind of assault is still extremely traumatizing whether it's sugarcoated as if it's love or not. It's dismaying that some reactions to Calypso bypass her potential assaulting or "She's weird, but she seems to care for him!" And since the sexual part of the assault is technically subtext (for now, who knows about later), I'll say that even if Calypso didn't sexually harm him, she still forces physical and verbal intimacy onto him and traps him so he can't leave. We see that. That's still assault. The only reason why I don't feel similarly about Epic's version of Circe is that her intent wasn't to have sex with Ody but to distract and throw him off with talk of sex so she could stab him as he's vulnerable; Circe never wanted to have sex with Ody in actuality. Calypso's intent was romantic intimacy and she didn't care if Odysseus said no, she completely bypassed it. Calypso saying "You're mine, all mine" feels as threatening as Circe's "I've got you" was meant to be.

Anything can change between now and the next two sagas. It could either be fully confirmed or denied that sexual assault took place. I actually don't expect either, as I don't think Jay would go too deep into such a traumatic concept in Epic, but then again I also didn't expect suicidal ideation to be brought up at all and it absolutely shocked me when it was, so I could be wrong. But whether it's confirmed or not, I don't blame any Epic fans who don't like Calypso or even hate her over what she did and what it's implied she did. It's icky watching some fans tell others they shouldn't hate Calypso because of this or that as if this isn't a sensitive and complex topic. It's creepy. I don't think we should tell people not to hate a character associated with sexual assault. The sexual assault might be subtext, but subtext is important and sometimes is implemented intentionally. Not every part of a story is going to be given to you at face value. Just because "Epic didn't say that" doesn't mean that the implication doesn't matter. People interact with stories in different ways, so you can disagree with others—no one can take that from you, but you don't get to tell someone they can't feel a certain way about a character. I don't like saying this because I really shouldn't have to put it in this perspective for it to be understood, but I can't help but feel like if Calypso and Ody's genders were swapped some people would treat this implication differently. Sexually or not she hurts him.

Normally I don't like taking lore from The Odyssey and automatically applying it to Epic, as Epic has changed a lot of rules from The Odyssey because Jay wants to tell this story his own story. For example, I personally choose not to assume Eury and Ody are brothers-in-law in Epic like they are in The Odyssey because that hasn't been stated in Epic so far. But to me, the implications of Ody's sexual assault are there enough for me personally to think that it might take place in both stories. Jay seems to want Epic to be accessible to many people, so it doesn't surprise me that this element of The Odyssey was brought up in a more subtextual/"hinted at" way.

Calypso is a very interesting character, maybe the most out of all the Epic antagonists so far for me, but we don't have to think of her as not doing anything wrong in order to enjoy that character, her songs, her cute physical character design, or Barbara Wangui's beautiful voice.

[The remainder of this post contains potential spoilers for the unreleased (to date) Vengeance Saga under the cut]

Another defense of Calypso I've seen is that in the snippets for "I'm Not Sorry for Loving You", Ody says he loves Calypso, but not in the way she wants him to. This could mean they're friends and therefore doubt about the sexual assault could be cast.

It's hard to assess this because the saga's not out yet, but it's worth remembering that abuse can come out of care, in a complicated way. You can care for someone so much you end up hurting them, usually out of wanting to control them. Calypso seems to fit that concept. And most Epic snippets don't give full context, naturally, so who knows why Ody says this at the moment. Maybe he means it, or maybe he's bluffing to guarantee he'll get what he wants (which is to be set free in this instance), like when meeting Athena, or to appease a god, like when "apologizing" to Poseidon in "Ruthlessness". And of course, victims don't have to hate their perpetrators if they choose not to. Odysseus can care about Calypso and she can still have hurt him really badly. Both of these things can be true.

The way I read it, Calypso doesn't love Odysseus like she thinks she does. She's infatuated by him and cares for him enough to not be obviously cold like all the other obstacles Ody faced initially are. She declares that she loves him as soon as he wakes up on her isle without knowing him at all. She didn't even know his name. The washed-up person on her isle could've been anyone and she likely would've "loved" them. Calypso only loves Ody because he stops her loneliness, not for who he is. When she begins to state that she loves him she doesn't even know him. Over the 7 years, she seems to have potentially gotten to know him a bit, saying "I know your life's been hard", but Odysseus himself asserts that she doesn't really know what he's been through. You can call someone (against their will, let me remind you) "my dear, my love for life" all you want, but that doesn't mean you love them. Ody's her first companion in years if not ever, of course she cares for him on a basic level. She won't kill him or let him jump off a cliff. But she doesn't love him or treat him like a human and obey his boundaries and wants. She treats him like an object or pet she owns and has to guard.

In "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" Calypso says that Ody is all she's ever known because she was abandoned. It's understandable that she would latch onto a living creature after being alone for so long. But that's not necessarily love, at least not to me. If I love someone I wouldn't bypass their refusal to do something. And I wouldn't trap them with me and not let them go, even when they're about to jump off a cliff because they see no way out. I'm not sure if Calypso means to bring malice, she at least says she "bring(s) no pain", but she does regardless or if she intends to. Calypso hasn't had anyone in her company, let alone someone to love, for so long, maybe in her whole life. That's why she doesn't know what love is, so of course when she catches fickle feelings for Odysseus she assumes that's love and has no clue what to do with her "love", as she admits in "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You". Calypso's actions are understandable, but that doesn't mean they're excusable or not abusive. What she does to him is understandable, but selfish and only serves herself, which isn't what you do to someone you love. Note that the way I use understandable here does not equate to forgivable, it just means conceivable. And her apology to him really waters down the magnitude of her actions, saying she "pushed" him, "came on too strong", and that her love might've been "too much" for Ody.

I apologize for this being such a long rant, but I wanted to cover all the excuses for Calypso I'd seen and speak my mind on why I think they're misguided at best.

#and this was a posibly bit petty and trivial so i didn't include it in the post #but when she called him “ody” that really rubbed me the wrong way #it's just... too intimate for her to use when he's so venerable #who's to say at this time if she knew that gravity of all the things she stated during the cliff scene but jezz man...#epic the musical #the wisdom saga #odysseus #calypso #jorge rivera herrans #tw sex assault #tw sex abuse #tw sa #tw sui ideation #tw sui talk

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