#edit: made the hands the correct size

[kathyrealmstales]

Ya know.....

Gay?

Im sorry, I usually don't do ship content on my blog, but I had to. Been having a bad day and this ship makes me happy, especially with how goofy they are.

Also the Lucky design is the look I usually give Y/N characters, imma be honest, might change the design later, but for now, this is how I see Lucky looking.

[satellite-evans]

clumsy

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Your clumsiness is going to be the death of Lando.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: injuries, fluff, worried Lando

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The first time Lando saw you trip over nothing, he thought it was a one-time thing. Maybe you were just tired, maybe the floor was uneven, maybe it was just bad luck. But after months of dating, he realized it was just... you.

You were a walking hazard. A human magnet for misfortune. A professional at collecting bruises, scrapes, and band-aids like they were limited-edition collectibles.

And, unfortunately for Lando, that meant he was constantly on high alert.

“Babe!” His panicked voice rang out as he watched you stumble over absolutely nothing on the kitchen floor. In one fluid motion, he darted forward, catching you before you could face-plant into the counter. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, keeping you from further self-destruction.

You blinked up at him, sheepish. “Oops.”

Lando let out a dramatic sigh, holding you steady. “How does this keep happening?”

“I have my theories.” You shrugged, playfully tapping your temple. “Faulty wiring.”

He shook his head, scanning you for any new injuries with the practiced precision of someone who had done this far too many times. “You need bubble wrap. No, actually, I’m getting you a helmet.”

You giggled, resting your hands on his chest. “A helmet for walking?”

“Yes. And knee pads. And elbow pads. And maybe a full-body suit.” He crouched slightly, running his fingers over a fresh bruise forming on your knee. His lips pressed together in frustration. “When did this happen?”

You followed his gaze, only now noticing the purple splotch decorating your skin. “Uh… I have no idea actually.”

Lando groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Love, you’re killing me.”

You grinned, cupping his face between your hands. “But you love me anyway.”

“Unfortunately.” He sighed dramatically, but the fond smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “I swear, one of these days, you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“I’ll try not to,” you teased, pecking his lips. “No promises, though.”

Despite his exaggerated complaints, he was always there to patch you up. He had a first-aid kit permanently stocked—no, actually, he had multiple, one in the car, one in the bathroom, and a travel-sized version in his bag. He had mastered the art of wrapping bandages, applying ointments, and kissing away the pain (even if you insisted that last part was unnecessary).

At this point, he was convinced he could get a medical degree solely from the amount of practice he had.

And yet, no matter how many times he swore he’d wrap you in protective gear, he never failed to hold onto you just a little tighter, watching out for stray corners, slippery floors, and rogue table edges like they were mortal enemies.

Because, as exhausting as it was, he wouldn’t trade you—or your inexplicable ability to defy gravity—for anything.

Even if it meant keeping an ice pack ready at all times.

As if on cue, you turned to walk away and immediately stubbed your toe on the kitchen island.

“Ow! Shit!”

Lando just groaned, rubbing his temples. “That’s it. I’m putting you in a bubble.”

“That seems excessive.”

“You just injured yourself standing still!”

You grinned sheepishly. “Okay, fair point.”

Shaking his head, he pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re a menace.”

“Your menace,” you corrected, snuggling into him.

He sighed, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah. My menace.”

You were chopping vegetables, fully focused—well, as focused as you ever were when handling sharp objects—when you somehow managed to cut yourself with the knife.

The sharp sting made you gasp, and almost instantly, blood welled up from the deeper cut. Before you could even fully process what had happened, Lando was already at your side. He had been watching you closely (as he often did whenever you were near anything remotely dangerous), and the moment he saw the slip, he sprang into action.

“Shit,” he muttered, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly. “Alright, that’s enough knife duty for you.”

His voice was laced with worry, though he tried to mask it with his usual teasing tone. His eyes darted to your finger, the cut deeper than the usual minor scrapes you tended to collect. Without hesitation, he led you to the sink, turning on the tap and holding your hand under the cool water.

“You know, normal people don’t injure themselves every day,” he tried to joke, though his brows were furrowed as he watched the water run red.

You hissed at the sting but still managed a lopsided grin. “I like to keep life exciting.”

Lando huffed a laugh, though there was a tightness in his jaw. “Yeah, well, I’d prefer if you found a less hazardous way to do that.”

After patting your hand dry with a towel, he grabbed the first-aid kit (which, at this point, he always kept within arm’s reach). His movements were careful, almost practiced, as he disinfected the wound. His fingers ghosted over your skin with such tenderness it almost distracted you from the sting of the antiseptic.

“This is deeper than your usual cuts,” he muttered, pressing a sterile gauze pad to your finger before wrapping it securely in a bandage. “It doesn't need stitches thankfully but you really need to be more careful.”

You winced, flexing your fingers slightly. “Well, at least I have you to patch me up.”

He sighed, shaking his head, but the corner of his lips twitched upward. When he was done, he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles.

“There. Good as new,” he murmured, but his grip on your hand remained firm, like he was reluctant to let go.

You wiggled your fingers dramatically. “Wow, a miraculous recovery. See? This is why I keep you around.”

Lando scoffed, feigning offense. “Oh, so I’m just your personal medic now?”

“Pretty much.” You shot him a cheeky wink before immediately reaching for the knife again.

Before you could even graze the handle, Lando snatched it away with lightning-fast reflexes. “Absolutely not.”

You pouted, eyes wide with faux innocence. “I was just gonna—”

“Nope.” He held the knife out of your reach, shooting you a pointed look. “I’m officially banning you from sharp objects.”

You crossed your arms, watching as he took over the cutting board and started chopping with ease. “So, what, I just sit here and do nothing?”

Lando smirked. “Exactly. Just sit there and be adorable.”

Your lips curled into a slow grin. “You think I’m adorable?”

His chopping faltered for a split second, and you caught the way his ears tinged pink. He rolled his eyes, refusing to meet your gaze. “Shut up.”

But when you leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, you felt him smile against your touch.

A few days later, the two of you were strolling through the paddock, the soft air filled with chatter. It was the usual pre-race chaos—engineers darting between garages, reporters setting up for interviews, and fans cheering from the barriers.

Lando had a firm grip on your hand, partly because he liked holding it, but mostly because he had learned that letting go of you for even a second increased the chances of you tripping over something by approximately 100%.

Still, despite his best efforts, it happened.

One second, you were walking beside him, mid-sentence about what snacks they had in hospitality. The next, you were suddenly pitching forward with a startled yelp, your foot catching on a stray cable snaking across the ground.

Lando reacted instantly. With reflexes honed by years of racing at breakneck speeds, he lunged forward, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist just before you could crash onto the hard concrete.

“Alright, that’s it,” he huffed, keeping you firmly against him as you steadied yourself. “I’m officially holding onto you for the rest of the day.”

You barely even fought it, leaning into him with an amused grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather you not break an ankle before my race,” he muttered, shooting a glance down at your shin. His jaw clenched at the sight of fresh bruises already forming. “How do you even manage this?”

You shrugged as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Raw talent.”

Lando scoffed, shaking his head, though the corners of his lips twitched. He tugged you even closer, keeping a protective arm around your waist as the two of you continued walking. From then on, any time there was so much as a crack in the pavement, he subtly steered you around it, refusing to take any more chances.

Lando’s race had gone well. Not a win, but a solid finish—good points, a few impressive overtakes, and, most importantly, no major mistakes. After the usual post-race interviews and debrief, all he wanted was to find you, wrap you up in a hug, and maybe gloat a little about how well he managed his tires.

But when he finally spotted you in the motorhome, his relief was short-lived.

You were sitting on one of the couches, clutching your ankle with an ice pack balanced precariously over what looked like a nasty bruise. Your expression was sheepish, but there was a telltale wince every time you shifted.

Lando’s stomach dropped.

“What the hell happened?” His voice was sharp with concern as he strode over, kneeling beside you in an instant. His eyes scanned over you, heart pounding at the thought of what he might find.

You attempted a grin, lifting the ice pack slightly to show off the deepening purple splotch spreading over your skin. “Well, you told me not to break anything before your race… so I did it during your race instead.”

You let out a small, nervous chuckle, expecting him to roll his eyes or make some sarcastic comment.

But Lando didn’t laugh.

His jaw clenched, his usual lighthearted expression darkened with something much more serious. “That’s not funny.” His voice was quieter now, more strained.

You swallowed, the weight of his worry sinking in. “Lando, it’s just a bruise. I didn’t actually break anything.”

He exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his damp curls. “What happened?”

You shifted slightly, the movement making you wince again. “I was walking back from the paddock, and some guy wasn’t looking where he was going—ran right into me. I tripped over a barrier and, well… gravity did its thing.”

Lando closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if trying to contain his frustration. “Jesus, Y/N.” His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure where he could touch without hurting you.

You sighed, placing your hand over his. “Hey, it’s okay. It just looks worse than it is.”

He gave you a look—one of those signature Lando Norris you’re full of shit expressions. “Yeah? So if I press here, it won’t hurt?” He gently placed his hand near the worst of the bruise.

You immediately flinched. “Ow, okay! Point made.”

Lando groaned, rubbing his face. “I leave you alone for one race.”

You pouted. “To be fair, I survived the whole weekend without getting injured until the race. I think that’s progress.”

Lando wasn’t amused. Instead, he carefully lifted your injured leg, maneuvering it so it was resting on his lap as he adjusted the ice pack. His touch was gentle, but his brows remained furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.

After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke, his voice softer now. “I just… hate seeing you get hurt.”

Your chest tightened at the genuine concern laced in his words. You reached up, cupping his face with your free hand. “I know.”

His blue eyes flickered up to meet yours, searching. “Promise me you’ll at least try to be more careful?”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “I promise to try.”

Lando huffed, clearly not satisfied, but he let it go—mostly. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before shifting to kiss the top of your knee, just above the bruise.

“You’re still getting the bubble wrap,” he mumbled against your skin.

You giggled. “And a helmet?”

“And a helmet.”

[ineffectualdemon]

I think some online leftists need to read Interesting Times by Terry Pratchett but believe him about it not being about China because it's not about China

These two sections live in my head rent free:

"‘Look,’ he said, rubbing his forehead. ‘All those people out in the fields, the water buffalo people . . . If you have a revolution it’ll all be better for them, will it?’

‘Of course,’ said Butterfly. ‘They will no longer be subject to the cruel and capricious whims of the Forbidden City.’

‘Oh, that’s good,’ said Rincewind. ‘So they’ll sort of be in charge of themselves, will they?’

‘Indeed,’ said Lotus Blossom.

‘By means of the People’s Committee,’ said Butterfly.

Rincewind pressed both hands to his head.

‘My word,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why, but I had this predictive flash!’

They looked impressed.

‘I had this sudden feeling,’ he went on, ‘that there won’t be all that many water buffalo string holders on the People’s Committee. In fact . . . I get this kind of . . . voice telling me that a lot of the People’s Committee, correct me if I’m wrong, are standing in front of me right now?’

‘Initially, of course,’ said Butterfly. ‘The peasants can’t even read and write.’

‘I expect they don’t even know how to farm properly,’ said Rincewind, gloomily. ‘Not after doing it for only three or four thousand years.’

‘We certainly believe that there are many improvements that could be made, yes,’ said Butterfly. ‘If we act collectively.’

‘I bet they’ll be really glad when you show them,’ said Rincewind."

Pgs 198-199 of the Kindle edition

And

"‘You see those armies over there?’ he said.

The buffalo holder concentrated his gaze.

‘Yes,’ he decided.

‘They’re fighting for you.’ The man did not appear moved by this. The water buffalo burped gently.

‘Some want to see you enslaved and some want you to run the country, or at least to let them run the country while telling you it’s you doing it really,’ said Rincewind. ‘There’s going to be a terrible battle. I can’t help wondering . . . What do you want?’

The buffalo holder absorbed this one for consideration, too. And it seemed to Rincewind that the slowness of the thought process wasn’t due to native stupidity, but more to do with the sheer size of the question. He could feel it spreading out so that it incorporated the soil and the grass and the sun and headed on out into the universe.

Finally the man said:

‘A longer piece of string would be nice.’"

P 227 of the Kindle edition

This this very relevant to a lot of leftist discourse bullshit I see everyday

[metaforikal]

MDNI .ᐟ

𐙚 mydeimos & phainon 𐙚 

nsfw, afab, no pronouns were used, mydei is a softie, phainon is a meanie.

penetration, cunnilingus, teasing.

⋆˙⟡ — mydei

➤ intercourse is like a sacred ritual between lovers to him, something that shouldn't be rushed. so he isn't one for mindless roughness despite what most people think he'd do.

➤ he'd make sure you're comfortable in his lap, back against his chest as his fingers skillfully prep you down there. he's aware of his size, he wants it to go smooth sailing without hurting you that much.

➤ enjoys, enjoyssss the small little mewls that would spill from your lips just by coming undone on his fingers alone. he'd curl when it hits a certain depth, making your breath hitch. 

➤ when you're wet enough, he'd use your bodily fluid as a lube, coating his arousal with it before pressing the angry tip to your aching core.

➤ he'd go slow and sensual half-way through, making sure everything feels right and snug before hilting himself forward, drawing a sharp gasp from you. 

➤ his rhythm is just nice, a mixture of deep, steady and unrelenting thrusts. the room is filled with shared sounds of pleasure, a symphony that is considered a blessing to his ears. 

➤ "you're so good at taking me in" he would praise you. the way he split you so deliciously makes your eyes roll back, tongue lolling out. you chant out his name like a prayer, the only word you're capable of uttering out at the moment. 

➤ he loves this position. you, sitting in his lap, so close, body pressed against his, taking in his arousal deep in you while his fingers play around with your pebbled nipples. 

➤ his other hand would tilt your head to the side, enough for him to access your lips. his kisses are as deep and passionate as his thrusts, drinking in your moans.

➤ he loves the look on your face, drunk on his love, eyes all hazy and glazed. you in this state, all reserved just for him.

⋆˙⟡ — phainon

➤ ceo of teasing, master of edging, nuff said.

➤ oh poor little you, you've been crying for awhile now, begging him to just please untie the knot in you! but he'd just chuckle, his fingers stop it's relentless tease just when you're about to fold.

➤ "ah ah ah, no cumming yet, my love" he taunts you, making you whimper as a form of protest. he enjoys seeing your teary eyes, lips pouting. he knows damn well that your ego won't let you beg for release in the form of words. 

➤ he's a pussy eater. correct. 

➤ you can try your best to close your legs, still it won't budge. he has a vice-like grip on your thighs, making sure it remains open for him to feast upon the ambrosia dripping in between your legs. whatever phagousa blessed onto amphoreus isn't enough to quench his thirst like how your bodily fluids do. 

➤ he'd make you cry on his tongue for sure, especially when he feels how your velvet walls clench onto him. your back arched, no longer against the soft sheets of the bed. he loves how you squirm, shudder. 

➤ the way your fingers dig into his scalp, tugging onto his snowy hair, pushing and pulling his head away, just made him even more turned-on. 

➤ he's more of a bully than mydei is. his fingers join the sensual assault on your aching core alongside his tongue, gently spreading open the folds as he laps on it like a man starved. 

➤ "i could never get enough of this" he murmurs against your skin, making goosebumps rise across your whole body. you swear you could just lose consciousness from the overwhelming pleasure washing over you.

➤ his favourite position is missionary, he wants to see the myriad of facial expression you'd make when he has you impaled on him. he wants to see how you'd cry and scream his name, seeing how droll spills from the edge of your plump, kiss-swollen lips.

GOT THIS DONE YAHUUU _(´ཀ`」 ∠) _ i deleted the initial one cuz of some little mistakes that i did and i kinda don't want to edit so i just deleted the whole thing and redo 😭

time to get to requests! i'll try to get it done before mydei's banner drop cuz i'll be busy staring at mydei.

[readychilledwine]

Idk if you do requests but holy shit you are amazing but like on the off chance you do I’m feral over this idea you would absolutely kill for cassian or Azriel

I’m dying for a smart ass foul mouthed girl in the dirty book club that’s like half his size to get him all worked up teasing him every time he sees her but when he finally gets her alone she literally was all talk and is clueless and timid and he blows her fucking mind

I talk a big game but it’s all a bit and I have zero confidence to back it up 😂

Bonus points and my first born for…

Dumbification

Big ole size kink

& a praise link to feed the ✨ daddy issues ✨

All For Show

Summary - Cassian has gotten tired of you and your pretty little mouth. He just had to wait for the right moment to correct it.

Warnings - smut, praise kink, degradation, slight dumbification, shy reader x bold cassian, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), implied size kink (little reader x big cassian), public-ish sex, unprotected sex, a hint of Voyeurism, best friend ex dynamic, loose editing, I'm probably missing some to be honest.. oh, gwyriel mentioned. I apologize if it isn't your preferred ship, but it felt right for this fic.

A/N - I've shamefully written this three times because I wanted bonus points while also giving it plot 😅

🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

Your mouth was going to get you in trouble one of these days, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you laughed with the Valkyries. 

The 4 of you were deep into your book club meeting, discussing the recent salacious read that had Gwyn’s cheeks matching that shade of red hair you'd grown to love so much. Emerie high fived you, fingers linking together as the newly added Pegasus charms on your woven friendship bracelets made a soft clink. 

You were bold, especially with these 3, and your interest in the sex scene you all had just read was immediately noticed. “I mean,” Nesta genuinely laughed, “Who wouldn't want to have sex with their mate in front of their equally attractive friends?”

Gwyn shrieked, “Nesta!”

A deep throat cleared at that, reminding the four of you that you were in an open room of the House of Wind. That Cassian and Azriel were sitting right next to you. Gwyn shrunk further into her chair, Azriel smirking and chuckling at his.. whatever they had decided they were today, meanwhile Cassian had his eyes locked on you, a brow raised as you began to play with that bracelet. Deep pink, deep orange, and a purple-y navy stared back at you, the blend reminding you of a sunset. “Something to say, General,” Nesta looked her former lover up and down. “Y/n isn't interested.”

Oh, but you were, and he wasn't blind to that. “Just think this is interesting, that's all,” he grumbled. “Especially considering, y/n gets flustered when someone so much as touches her hips to adjust her stance.” Your glare shot his way as your friends began to laugh. Azriel hid a chuckle behind his hand. The tension between you and Cassian had been growing, especially due to the private hand to hand lessons he was giving you. 

“You grabbed me by my inner thigh,” you retorted, eyes rolling.

“And you turned the same shade of red aa the threads on that bracelet Ness wears,” he stated. “You talk a big game, sweetheart. Someone is going to call you on your shit one day.” If you were a smarter female, you would have realized that was a warning. 

Cassian was showing no mercy the next night as he threw you to your hands and knees for the fourth time in your 2 hour session. “What the hell, Cass?!” You were panting as you sat back in your heels. “Did you not get the memo that I am just a girl?”

His eyes rolled, “Stand up.” The part of you that had never responded to demands well sent him a look, head tilted back to study his imposing frame. The look you gave him was enough to break his calm. He was a General, a commander, practiced and poised, but you were ruining him. The tension between the two of you was ruining him. He had denied himself so much in this life, lost so much more. Why deny both of you what he knew you both wanted?

“You know what,” he muttered more to himself than you. “I can't do this anymore.” A hand found its way into your hair, strands wrapping around strong fingers as he pulled you to one of the benches, forcing you between his legs as he sat. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What-”

“Show me what you brag to your little friends about. Show you these skills you think you have.”

Your flush began immediately, “Cassian-”

"I knew it," he interrupted you, “Admit you're inexperienced.”

“I'm not inexperienced! I'm just shy!”

He studied you, hazel eyes taking in every inch of your skin as if you were some display. Even with your clothing on, you had never felt more exposed under his gaze. “Shy but can run your mouth to Ness? To Gwynie? To Em? Are you shy or do my hands make you shy?”

That furthered the flush as said large hand pulled your hair, angling your head back to look at him. “Cass-”

“I'm so tired of hearing you speak.” His lips crashed on yours then, forcing you into his lap, legs straddling one of his much larger thighs. Even like this, Cassian towered over you, consumed your frame. You had never considered yourself the smallest female, but with Cassian? Every female could feel small with Cassian.

His free hand slid down, tracing the curve of your breast, your waist, your hips before grabbing and squeezing your left thigh, forcing it over his other leg so you were fully straddling him and open to him. 

He pulled back, lips still close as you tried to catch your breath, “Good,” he almost seemed to vibrate with his lust. “That's my Good Girl.” 

There was no patience as he pulled your training top off, no ceremony as he took your bra off after it. Cassian was a male in need, something you felt every time he moved and his hips ground his covered length against you. 

A silent prayer was sent to the Gods, thanking them for Nesta being in Autumn with Eris for the next week. While it didn't promise no one would walk into the training ring on you two, it did promise at least Nesta wouldn't. His mouth moved down your neck, kissing and nipping until he found the spot that had you melting to his form. “That's it,” his voice had grown deep as he licked at your skin. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me have you.” 

Maybe it was because your brain stopped functioning. Maybe it was because something in you just seemed to float in his presence, but you didn't remember getting laid back on the mat, nor your leather pants slowly removed inch by inch as he whispered praise. You didn't remember his own clothing meeting the pile of yours somewhere off to your side. But you remembered his kiss bringing you back to him, “So we go dumb?” He forced you to nod. “I bet you just love being cock drunk, don't you, princess,” the nod wasn't forced this time, his smirk growing as he looked to the sky as if to say his own thank you. 

His hands and lips explored every inch, the soft gasps and noises you made his consent, the way you squeezed his fingers encouragement. His tongue swirled your nipple, wetting the tender nerves before latching onto it, rolling and sucking. You couldn't help but arch your back, whispering his title, his name. 

“You sound like I imagined you would,” he murmured as he kissed his way to your other breast, offering the same treatment as his words shot to your core. He had imagined you. Imagined how you would sound below him, maybe on top of him. 

His kisses began to trail lower, paying extra attention to the sensitive spots he found. He stopped at the hem of your panties, eyes glancing to meet yours, “This is your chance to tell me to stop. If I keep going, that's it. It's you being manhandled by me until I'm done with you, understand?”

The whimper that left your throat at that was almost sinful, “Cassian, please.”

“Use your words,” he demanded. “Use that your mouth to tell me what you want done. You like to run it when you think I'm not listening. Talking about how you want to ride cock and be tied up and used like you aren't telling everyone my dreams.”

Another whine as he licked your core, protected from that skilled tongue by thin lace. “Words,” he demanded again.

“Please taste me.” The tear of fabric followed that plea, all caution thrown to the wind as he dived in. 

Cassian wanted to taste every inch of your core. His tongue running over the left side, the right, your clit, your wet entrance. Emerie had told you once enthusiastic partners made sex better and you knew why now. Cassian not only knew what he was doing, but it was clearly his pleasure to be doing it. Each plunge of his tongue inside of you was met with him moaning or groaning, lips vibrating the sensitive parts of your body and building the feeling desperation that slowly wanted to kick in. You sat up on your elbows, watching him as he glanced up, hazel eyes dark and watching your face. Each reaction was a reward to him, your heart seeming to tug at the pride gleaming in his eyes at each little noise that escaped you. 

No novel compared to this. 

No words could describe it. 

Your stomach was growing tight, head falling back as he feasted as if you were the most delicious meal he'd had in over 500 years of life. His lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, tongue making half circle shapes around your far too aching clit as a thick finger ran your core and gently pushing in.

“Cassian,” your body seemed to shutter in pleasure, tightening around that single digit. “Cauldron fry me,” you moaned as he curled his finger up, immediately locating that special spot inside of you. 

This was just his finger. Just his finger had you feeling like you were stretching to a limit as he worked his tongue and hand in time, the band inside of you going taunt. He was careful as he added in a second, watching your face as if he knew. As if he could feel that little panic building in your mind. 

He washed it away as he changed how his tongue was moving, now giving teasing motions with just the tip directly where your body was screaming to be touched. He watched your eyes close, watched your guard drop as your hips moved, wanting to ride his face and fingers. He would have normally allowed it, but not this time. Not when he so desperately wanted control and to prove you were all talk. Not when he so desperately wanted you to be his. Your walls began to tighten again, his name becoming something you couldn't even finish as your gasps and panting increased. 

Then you tumbled. You fell from the edge, squeezing those two fingers so hard he struggled to work you through your high with them. His free forearm pushed down on your hips, forcing you to stay still and at his mercy. He only slowed down when your trembling did, fingers coming out of you so he could lick them clean, his own hazel eyes fluttering shut. He moved up, kissing you again and forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Off,” you begged, mind going hazy as you tugged his own leathers. Your request was met, Cassian standing over you as you instantly moved to your knees, watching his hands unlace before pulling down. His cock stood hard for you. It was thick, long, veins in places you knew were going to touch the perfect spots inside of you. 

Cassian was larger than any male you'd ever been with, and it had been a while since you had been with anyone. He was a challenge, one you were prepared to meet as you felt your mind fully slip away. “Open,” he whispered. His own stomach flipped with excitement when you obeyed, hand grabbing your high ponytail as he moved his hips and your head forward. This was something you knew, mind immediately working on the sole goal of his pleasure as you began to lick and suck, head bobbing. His hips met your pace, not pushing or forcing. “Just like that, sweetheart. Putting that mouth to good use for once,” he groaned. He tasted of something purely Cassian. Of salt and power. “You look beautiful like this,” his hips increased slightly, encouraging you to do so as well. “Mouth wrapped around my cock, looking up at me with those pretty eyes. Such a good girl.” 

He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of making him finish like this. No. He wanted that to happen when he was buried inside of you, you ass bouncing with each thrust he would give you. He watched you closely as you sucked him off, tongue and lips wetting him until he was sure he wouldn't last if you kept going.

Whines of protest left you as he pulled you off, walking you the bench and forcing you to crawl with his grip on your hair. “Hands on the bench.” An order you were not dumb enough to deny, positioning yourself as he asked. He kneeled behind you, kissing your spine as he forced a knee up on the bench as well. It wasn't comfortable, but it would be effective. “Breathe.” Another command from the General of the Night Court as he lined up with you and began pushing in. 

“Gods!” Each inch of him seemed to knock the air from your lungs, your breathing ragged. “Cassian, I can't-”

“You can,” he silenced you. “Breathe. Breathe like we taught you.” He timed his entrance with each deep breath, groaning once he was fully inside of you. His hand went to the small of your stomach, dirty thoughts about wanting to be big enough he could feel and see himself inside of you.

The first rock of his hips had you almost shouting your moans. He reached places you'd never known. Places no one had ever touched. You were like a vice around him, the stretch burning and adding to your pleasure as he began to move, stroking that building fire with care. It didn't long for the training area to smell like sex. To be filled with the sounds of his deep groans, you gasps and pleads, the sounds of skin hitting. 

His hands reached forward, wanting more control of you as he grabbed your arms, holding and forcing them behind your back and making you arch more for him. Helpless. You were helpless. 

And that's when the Cassian Nesta had described to you all began. 

His thrusts became fast and hard, hitting your g spot over and over. His hand that wasn't holding your wrists found your throat, resting there and giving one squeeze to test the waters. You couldn't even moan his name anymore as that fire grew, all words were lost to you, all thoughts eddied before falling to silence. Your body wanted to feel. And feel you did. 

Every drag was a spark, every word he whispered in your ear a kindling. You would burn. You would burn alive if he didn't stop. That tension built again, faster than it had with any other partner. 

Cassian was a God. No one could convince you otherwise as those scarred lips pressed against your temple. “I won't last,” he muttered. “You're too warm. Too tight. You have me, princess. You and this pretty pussy.” He smirked as a wanton moan left your throat, the heat of his body sending you into overdrive. 

You wouldn't last either.

Frankly, you didn't want to. 

His hand squeezed your throat again, his pace becoming less patterned and wild. He was chasing your high like a predator closing in on its next meal, and when you seemed to freeze, body tensing before a scream tore through you, he served himself. 

“That's it, y/n. Doesn't that feel so right, angel? Falling apart with me inside of you,” he grunted as he fought off his own high. “You feel like heaven, y/n. So good, baby. So fucking good.” His voice prolonged your high, forcing you into a state of overstimulation. You collapsed against him, body putty to his will as he chased his own orgasm.

“Fuck,” he yelled before you felt him give one last hard push into you, warmth spreading as his spilled inside. His hands moved, one shooting out to wrap around your hips, forcing you to stay down. The one found the bench, stopping the forward motion from you both falling into it, protecting you even as his mind clouded to the feeling of you squeezing around him.

This didn't just feel like heaven. It was heaven. 

He moved your leg down once he was done, his hand now finding your chin to tilt your head and kiss you softly. “You did so well,” he said against your swollen lips. “So responsive for me. Felt so good. Was it good, sweetheart?” You only nodded, biting your lower lip as he showered you with more praises. “Let's get you dressed so I can get you in a bath.”

Your arms held his right one once you two were dressed and walking towards the house. He only paused when the door opened, and Azriel sighed, holding Gwyn against him as she blushed and squirmed, “You couldn't have kept going,” Azriel teased. “Gwyn was enjoying the show.” Your face fell, realizing you had been caught and watched. Teal eyes met yours, her own blush spreading out from where Azriel had a hand on her mouth. “Come on, my light,” Azriel purred to her. “Time to go do dagger training.”

Cassian laughed as he continued pulling you in the house, pulling you to his room, to his tub. 

You could face the consequences of Nesta potentially finding out later. All that mattered now was the feel of his hand, slipping down your body and below the water for round two.

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[immortalmrwavell]

The Hike

(Original story posted May 23rd 2023) Minor edits and corrections

After about an hour or so of hiking, Adam had reached the foot of Mount Servus Masculus. He stared up at the mountain with a confident grin. “I’ve still got no idea what the locals were so scared of. This is gonna be easy..” He spouted cockily.

Over the years Adam had climbed numerous mountains both tall and dangerous, snowy and windy. He’d traveled all over the world climbing all kinds of different mountains and documenting his experiences. One day soon he even planned on getting to the peak of Everest! Compared to that and most other mountains he’d done recently, this ‘Mount Servus Masculus’ seemed like child’s play. Looking at it from where he was, he figured he’d be up and down it in no time. Yet none of the locals would dare go near the mountain let alone climb it. Apparently there was some strange superstition around it. Adam didn’t give it the time of day though. It was just your same old ‘Oooooh anyone that tried to climb it has never been seen again’ mumbo jumbo. He’d heard it all before. It didn’t scare him then and it wouldn’t scare him now.

The confident hiker took a swig of water from his bottle just before adjusting his pack and marching onwards. He followed along a path that seemed to lead through the trees that covered the lower half of the mountain. It was heavily overgrown with wildlife covering most of the path. Due to this it wasn’t long before Adam pulled out his machete and started hacking through all the thick brush blocking his way ahead. All the while he could hear birds and insects chirping around him in a song-like manner. It was kind of beautiful actually.

Adam pressed on until the path finally started to open up a little more, allowing his trusty machete to have a break. This also gave him a better chance to admire the scenery of the mountain’s forest. Once again he couldn’t think for life of him why everyone was so afraid of it. Everything was so lush and vibrant. The grass was so very green and the plants growing around the trees seemed to glitter with an array of so different colours. And the way the wind gently whistled through the air… it was so enchanting. It almost made him wish he lived here. But he had to continue on.

Before long he found himself reaching the edge of lower forest and entering a rockier part of the mountain. He could tell there were more trees further up but he’d need to climb a little before getting there. That said, even as he escaped the beauty of the forest below, that wind continued to swirl around him in a strange manner. Whistling even clearer now in a way that could only be described as a melody of nature. He was so encapsulated by the sound that he’d failed to notice how his previously baggy clothes had begun to feel much tighter around the seams…

The path forward had become much clearer now with a winding trail that gradually led Adam further up the mountain. As he wandered along the trail, it felt as though an invisible hand was tugging him along. Encouraging him to keep walking. Encouraging him to reach the top of the mountain because doing so would make him feel oh so good. Encouraging him to take off his backpack and leave it on the side of the trail. He dropped it without a second thought, not even acknowledging the wide array of other backpacks lying around the area discarded. The song only wove itself deeper as it encouraged Adam to slip off his waterproof coat next, reasoning that it was far too warm for that…

At some point he found himself looking down to see he’d taken off not only his coat but also the jacket underneath, leaving him in just a tight black t-shirt. The fabric of which stretched tight across a plump pair of pecs that hadn’t existed before. Not to mention how Adam’s sleeves had begun to ride up his growing biceps as the shirt groaned under the size of his expanding back and shoulders. He should’ve been freezing cold without the rest of his layers on and yet the wind swirling around him was just so warm and relaxing. It was like the higher he climbed, the hotter the air became. The rational part of his brain was screaming at him that this wasn’t normal but the whispers of wind only told him to keep walking. To keep climbing. To keep growing. And he listened.

With every step he took, Adam’s muscles pulsed. Bulking and ballooning with new mass. His whole body grew thicker and stronger until the wind whispered at him again. Telling him to rip off that useless shirt. He wouldn’t need it where he was going.

“Ggguuraaaahhh!” Adam let out a deep roar as he gripped the centre of his shirt and tore it wide open before tossing the remains on the ground. He let out a small grunt before continuing his ascent up the mountain.

He didn’t know when it’d happened but at some point he’d also taken off his boots and socks. Leaving him walking along the mountain trail barefoot. Now all that was left was a threateningly tight pair of trousers and underwear. But soon enough, as he reached what looked to be an old bridge that stretched over a creek, Adam found himself compelled once again to strip. The song of the mountain winds commanded it. He complied without hesitation, tugging off his trousers and leaving them on the side of the path. He crossed to the other side of the bridge in nothing but a tight pair of blue underwear that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Eventually Adam found himself face to face with a wall of boulders. It didn’t seem as though the trail continued any other way around it which could only mean that his one option was to rock climb. And climb he did. Making sure to get a good grip with both his hands and feet on each sturdy piece of rock before pushing himself higher. Getting closer and closer to the top.

Once again part of his rational mind screamed at him, saying that doing this without any of his gear whatsoever was not only weird but extremely dangerous! But deep down he somehow knew that the warm comforting winds swirling around him at all times would keep him safe. And so he shook off any silly doubts before continuing to climb. Feeling the air around him grow stronger the higher he went.

Soon enough Adam found himself having somehow scaled the entire wall of rock. As he did, he turned and looked towards the Sun in the distance as it shone bright upon the land below. He couldn’t help but smile. “Be free.” the wind whispered to him softly. Then without a second thought he reached down and yanked his underwear off. Holding them in his hand for a moment before tossing them off the ledge and watching as they blew away. Just like what would soon happen to the last of his free will.

For just a moment Adam felt the strange wind disperse and was immediately hit with a wave of clarity. “W-what the fuck am I doing and- My body!? What happened to me!?” Adam screamed in confusion as his cock flopped between his legs. He couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around what was happening. Not only as to why the hell he naked but also to how the fuck he’d gotten so buff! His arms were so thick and powerful with muscle that bulged with every movement. His back and shoulders had broadened significantly and his chest had grown into a pair of prominent muscle tits with an incredibly sensitive pair of nipples to match. It was insane! Even his ass had expanded into a huge bubble butt now! And as crazy as it all was, he couldn’t help but stop and admire his new and improved form.

His admiration of his newly sculpted body was soon cut short however as the wind rushed back in an instant, sending Adam straight back into trance. This time it felt as though an invisible pair of lips had wrapped themselves around his cock and were sucking on it gently as they guided him slowly towards an opening in the second forest higher up the mountain. Almost like he was being tugged along by his dick while being sucked off. Of course the enchanted Adam didn’t question this one bit as he allowed his cock to lead the way. All the while failing to notice how, despite being fully hard, his manhood still seemed to be growing longer and thicker.

Unlike when he’d made his way through the forest lower, a clear pathway made itself visible through the trees. Leaves and branches actively moving out of Adam’s way without him having to lift a finger. It was as if they were alive. Now allowing him easy passage to continue ascending until he reached where the wind was taking him. The peak.

He walked for about an hour, having his new monster dick edged constantly the whole way. Only after all that did Adam finally reach an opening in the forest. He’d reached the top of the mountain it seemed and what he saw was something nobody would’ve believed had they not seen it with their own eyes.

There was an entire community of hunky naked men!

Some of them were simply lying around, displaying their bodies, others were actively flexing and admiring themselves while a few were straight up fucking each other raw and filling one another’s holes with their cum. Ordinarily this would’ve been enough to have Adam running for the hills but the wind reassured him that this was all normal. That he belonged here now. He silently complied before walking into the testosterone filled camp, his hard sensitive cock bobbing up and down with every step.

“Ah there you are. Adam is it?” Called a somewhat familiar voice. Adam turned his head to see a man sitting on what looked to be some kind of throne. He was a naked hunk just like all the other men and was currently being worshipped by two other hulking meatheads. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get here. It’s been about a year since we’ve had any fresh meat.” He continued. That’s when it hit Adam. This man. It was him. The whole time. The voice whispering in his ear. The wind telling him what to do and think. It was all him! “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll feel right at home around here soon enough.”

Every ounce of what was left of Adam’s free will was screaming out in distress. Telling him to get away as fast as possible. Yet his body wouldn’t move. Only continuing to stand before this king of hunks with the biggest hard on of his life. Unfortunately for Adam however, this man wasn’t a king but rather a powerful wizard and as such was able to hear all the inner thoughts his new recruit was having.

“Oh? You’re still resisting?” The man said as if it were comical. “Boys. Drain him dry.” He commanded and just like that the two men that’d been worshipping him turned to face Adam with lustful grins on their faces before immediately getting to work. Kissing, licking and groping every inch of Adam’s body while they teased him with their own. He tried to resist as much as he could but when one of them started waving their fat muscle ass in front of him, he just couldn't stop himself from slamming his cock inside!

“That’s it boy! Drain those balls and your free will along with em!” The wizard shouted and with all the edging Adam had already received, that encouragement was all he needed. Moments later Adam let out an almost animalistic roar as he blew the fattest load of his life while simultaneously submitting to this hunky wizard. Any will of his own was now completely erased and replaced with nothing but thoughts of muscular men, dicks and ass. He was now cursed to be a dumb horny himbo on top of this mountain for the rest of his life. Breeding and being bred to no end. That was his purpose now.

[potatomountain]

Chapter Twenty-Five

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍Summary: "What You Wanted"

📍WC: 3.8k

📍AU: detective/mafia

📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance

📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, cnc, gun threats, gun play, choking, 'kidnapping' if you squint, size kink, stomach bulge kink, threesome (of sorts), manhandling, penetration with no barrier, cream pie, ripped panties, reader essentially consents, thrill kink, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia

📍AN: Guess whats back! And a day early! 5 chapters after this but honestly so much is gunna happen hehehe

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour

📍dividers and banner made by me!

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It occurred to you the alarm that had gone off wasn’t really an emergency, but a ploy to keep you from asking questions you shouldn’t. After all, Yeosang had been watching. You didn’t know where the camera’s were, or what he could see, but you were even more certain that was the case a week later.

You had purposely asked Haru if she knew of anything going down around that time, and she had just confirmed your suspicions. Then you picked up that later in the week the Guardians had interjected, backing up the Vipers just as you had told Hongjoong.

But the real suspicious activity was the Vipers’ increase of goods from the docks- they were doing business with the Black Pirates.

Some of the girls speculated that the Pirates were helping for more territory over the river; others said they saw that without the Vipers, they would be the target of the Wolves. You supposed both could be true, but if you were correct you knew the most viable answer: if the Vipers lost, then San was lost.

The conflicting emotions and morals inside your head and heart were starting to boil over, unable to look Seonghwa in the face as he picked you up for the night. It was later than usual, the club had been more packed than normal with quite a bit of players killing some time. You were quite good at bartending, adding a little extra alcohol for some to get their lips loose, losing track of time in the process.

Yet Seonghwa hadn't been waiting long at all when you came out the back, a reminder that Yeosang had been watching and probably told him when you started closing up. Adjusting your skirt that kept riding up you approached him, taking note of the subtle way he eyed your legs.

Good, that would make this easier.

The skirt rode up even more once you were on the bike, bare inner thighs pressed against his rear, pressing closer as the heat from the bike radiated onto your skin. Your arms were tight around His waist, chest against his back, usually shy deliberate touches were now bold ‘accidental’ touches you would constantly apologize for.

Like digging your nails into his hips when he would make a turn, or grabbing his thighs when he would stop so you could ground yourself. The way you “adjusted” your skirt every chance you got just to rub against him and press your chest closer. You could tell from the way his muscles tensed up, and the white-knuckle grip on the handles that he was affected.

Once you arrived at your apartment, you didn't immediately step off the bike, nor unlatch from him. Your hesitance to head inside showed, thankfully it played in your favor.

“Angel?” Seonghwa sounded concerned. Good. Perhaps this would make it easier to bring him inside.

Slowly you stepped off the bike, took the helmet off and appeared flustered. “Can we talk? Inside? Please?” When he appeared reluctant you added on “you told me if I had doubts to talk to you. You aren't going back on that now?”

He softened, shaking his head and stepping off the bike once he turned it off. “Of course not. Let's head inside.” With his hand on the small of your back you made your ascend to your apartment.

Each step felt like an added weight on your heels, glancing back as you held his hand. If he could tell you were nervous, he didn't let on. Maybe you could play it off with your concerns. Seonghwa was a smart man though, so who knows how long you could keep up with deception.

Hopefully long enough to subdue him.

Once inside your apartment you kicked your shoes off, taking his hand once more once his were off too. “What is it, Angel?”

His obvious concern felt like a knife in the already growing wound. “Has Captain told you… about what we did in the gym a couple weeks back?”

Only because you were looking for it did you see it: the slightest tell of recognition. He buried it quickly under a look of confusion. “No, he hasn’t. What did you do?”

That obvious lie was like a shot of adrenaline. A sharp reminder of what you had to do. Any thought you had about asking him straight out was dashed from your mind.

With a coy smile you pulled him by the hand to your bedroom, his gaze dipping to the way your hand worked off the zipper of the jean vest you wore, nothing but the lace bra under it. The undercover work required more revealing clothing, but this you wore with this moment in mind. “I sucked him off, I wanted to do much more than that but there was an emergency.” Your words clearly affected him, just as you wanted, but you were still cautious. “But I haven’t seen or heard from him since… did I do something wrong?”

Seonghwa followed your every step, letting you pull him into the bedroom as your vest was opened and chest displayed. “You didn’t do anything wrong Angel… I’m sure I would’ve known about it.” You were positive he did know though.

“Then… can you ease my worries? W-with Chan I-” You trailed off, playing the part of dejected woman perfectly as you pulled those feelings to the surface. “I don’t want any more uncertainties about if I’m wanted or not. Please? Just a reminder?” It helped you had been so vulnerable with Seonghwa before, he didn’t seem to suspect it was staged.

Not as he followed you onto the bed, lust taking over his features as he reached out, fingers trailing over the lace bra. “We’ve been neglecting you again haven’t we Angel?”

You nodded, scooting more and more back on the bed so there was plenty of room for you both. “Just a bit.” The closer he got, the more you shut off your emotions. The wants and desires to do this under different circumstances. To completely indulge in the way his gaze devoured your body, to trust him with your heart, and give yourself over to the partnership the eight of them had.

But you weren’t one to trust so easily, not any more, and you couldn’t handle the lies. Not after everything. This wasn’t a desire for them physically any more, or a need for respect in their work. His lips on yours felt like a game, as if they gave what you wanted just to keep you at bay, to twist and manipulate you so you suited their needs.

This was personal.

You kissed back just as you wanted to, because even as your world was crumbling you still desired him, desired them. His touch still had heat pulsing between your thighs, still had you so eager to lose yourself to the way his hands worshiped your body. Over your breasts, down your sides, pushing your skirt up so he could slot his thigh between yours.

With a ragged moan you rolled the two of you over towards your right, straddling his waist and grinding down on his hips with clear desperation. “Hwa~ You look so good like this, under me.” Your lips were back on his in a heated kiss before he could respond, rolling your hips to stimulate the growing bulge you could feel. You were throbbing imagining it inside you, hitting deep every time you slammed down.

Shaking those thoughts off, your hands slipped up his shirt, slowly pushing it up. His kisses became hesitant, pulling away once your fingertips met his perky little nipples. “W-wait Angel, my shirt…”

“What about it?” You trailed kisses along his jaw, pulling one hand away to grab his hand and place it back on your ass when he had pulled it away. “Are you shy?”

“A little… please?” He pushed at your hands, pleading up at you.

With a reluctant sigh, you nodded, moving your hands to brace yourself by his shoulders, capturing his lips again as your hand slid into his hair. “Just don’t stop touching me then.” Thankfully he listened, his hands back on your ass, kneading the flesh there as you continued to kiss him.

In an instant it all shifted, the gun you were now pressing to the side of his head the reason. You kept one in your pillow to help you sleep better at night ever since you started the undercover work, and it was a blessing once you started to suspect.

Slowly you leaned back, keeping the gun trained on him as you wiped away all signs of desire from your features. “Cut the bullshit Seonghwa.”

He too had a stone expression, eyes hard as he stared down the barrel of your gun. “What are you doing?”

“Getting answers. You know how good of a shot I am, so why don’t you just listen to what I say and you’ll walk out of here alive.”

“With Mingi right next door?” He cocked a brow, meeting your gaze.

You smirked. “Really? That’s your retort? Nothing about my morality or oath I made as a cop? But threatening me with Mingi next door? You don’t want to get the police involved in this, don’t you? Better to kill me and cover it up huh? If I’m willing to shoot you, don’t you think I’m willing to shoot him too?”

His jaw went tense, eyes flicking away for a brief moment. If you still believed that he did care for you, you might take that as a sign of remorse. “What do you want to know?”

“First-” Keeping the gun trained with precision, you grabbed his hands and pulled them up to the headboard where you had a pair of cuffs hidden. “I knew you would look good in bondage.” When he pleaded your name, you tightened the cuffs. “Don’t. You had plenty of chances to tell me.”

“Tell you what?” He insisted, seemingly unaffected by the gun as you moved down his body and pulled his shirt up. He went deadly still, your eyes falling on the very evidence you needed. Scrawled on his ribcage, were the words “Black Pirate”.

Gone was the last bit of hope, the last chance you could convince yourself that you were being paranoid and that your distrust was wrongly placed. And with it, you just snapped. Laughter boiled out of you, insane laughter like this was the funniest, craziest thing to have ever happened. “I- I can’t believe it. I was right?”

You didn’t want to be.

“Angel-” Seonghwa’s plea was cut off by the muzzle of your gun being pressed to his lips.

“No. Don’t call me that. I’m not that.” You sneered out, laughter gone. “I wanted to trust you. I did trust you. But this? The Black Pirates?? Seriously?” 

It irked you how his gaze softened, concern there like a mother wanting to comfort their hurt child. “We were going to-”

“Tell me? When? After I fucked you all? Killed someone for you? Got so deep in that I wouldn’t have any escape if- Oh my God you were huh?” You swallowed hard at that daunting realization. “You were only going to tell me when I was so far in that you had no choice. Not because you trusted or cared for me. But because you were stuck with me and once I had enough blood on my hands only then would you tell me?”

He couldn’t meet your gaze. It hurt even more.

“The team comes first, it’s our shared secret, our personal feelings don’t matter.”

With a rise of anger clogging your throat you pressed the gun closer. “You had me believe I could be part of that, but I’m not. I’m not part of the team, of any of this! You used my vulnerability over Chan against me. Took advantage of the way they just tossed me aside. I trusted you, but you couldn’t trust me? Not without…” You broke off, shaking your head and trying to clear your thoughts.

You were a detective first. You had the law to uphold. This was not the right way to do it. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself you climbed off him, keeping the gun trained on him as you patted down his body. You found a gun on a calf hostler, tossed it on the chair out of reach with his pants, patting both down for any wire or tracking device. You turned his phone off for good measure, knowing Yeosang could probably track the location.

The whole time Seonghwa was watching you with that look in his eyes that was making your blood boil, but he didn’t speak. 

With the silence it gave you a moment to think. What could you do, this was a member of the black pirates- the higher up would be pleased. But you were also aware you had no way of bringing him in alone. Your evidence was nothing more than the tattoos now and the fact Seonghwa wasn’t denying that yes, they were. It was the whole unit too, and being the department of organized crime- well they would be the ones who would normally be called in to deal with this.

But you also couldn’t just let him go. You’ve held him at gunpoint, threatened his and Mingi’s life, and you knew their secret. They weren’t going to give you a chance to get evidence against them, nor were they going to let you live for very long either. You had this one night to figure it out.

Burning the bridge with SK was now a very bad idea. You were entirely alone, and doing something reckless and stupid.

No wonder why you got transferred.

“Angel-”

You swung back around to point the gun at him again, your emotions boiling in the pit of your stomach. “Stop calling me that!”

“Then talk to me! I can’t help-”

You climbed on top of him quickly, pressing the gun to his forehead as you sneered. “Help? Why the fuck would you want to help me? Your team comes first, and I’m not part of that remember.”

“Is that what this is really about?”

“No!” Yes- screamed in your head. “The Pirates have been active long before any of you became detectives. Wooyoung isn’t even an official one, and with the way Yeosang can erase an entire person from the internet, with access to police records and sealed files, I’m sure he could make any crimes you all did just disappear. Could make me disappear.”

“And you’re smart enough that you know this entire situation only hurts you, whether I live or die.” Seonghwa attempted to reason with you, and you wanted it to work. “So let me help you. Let me go, we can go talk to Hongjoong, and we can resolve this together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You wanted, more than anything, to believe him. And you would’ve. You lowered the weapon, just an inch as you blinked back tears, only to jump into action when you noticed a shadow in your peripheral, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. You plummeted to the bed, large hands pushing your body down as the gun was tossed from your hands.

Instead a large hand was on your throat, squeezing hard enough your windpipe felt tight. Yunho stared down at you with such a murderous glare that any belief you had in Seonghwa was dashed. How could you talk it over with someone who wanted to kill you?

“Yunho! Don’t!” Seonghwa pleaded as you choked, grasping at his gloved hands to try and get him off you.

“She had a gun pointed at you so don’t give me that shit!” He snapped back, tearing his eyes away for just a second long enough for you to turn the tables. You kneed his balls and then kicked his leg to have him stumbling to the side. With a timed punch to his own windpipe you were out of his hold and rolling off the bed to grab your discarded gun. 

He was quick to recover, grumbling curses as he followed after you, grabbing your leg to pull you back on the bed. With a silent gasp of surprise, you kicked back at any part of him you could, hitting his jaw then shoulder, just to have him grab your other leg and have more leverage against you.

You managed to get the gun, grabbing it and bringing it up just as he had you on the bed again. He stilled, staring down the barrel of your gun as he held your waist down. “You reeeally want to do that, butterfly?”

The nickname brought back flashes of the club, the desire you had seen then once more in his eyes which just astonished you. He was panting, busted lip and a smirk on his features as he stuck his tongue out and licked the muzzle of the gun, daring you to pull the trigger.

He used your befuddlement against you, lifting your hips with one hand so you could feel the bulge in his pants, catching the spark in his eyes as he stared down at your throat where you knew there were bruises forming. Bruises in the shape of his fingers.

“Yunho- don’t.” Seonghwa warned again, something different about his tone this time that had you afraid of something else. They were mafia, meaning they committed crimes, killed people and probably-

You swallowed, throat sore as you tried to speak. “I’ll shoot-” It came out like a croak, much less threatening than you hoped for.

He laughed around the muzzle, tongue still playing with it like he was kissing it. “Yeah? Do it. Shoot me. Come one baby girl, you can shoot me, or you can fuck me.”

“For fuck’s sake Yunho now isn’t the time!!” For the first time since you had pulled the gun Seonghwa began to squirm to escape, attempting to at least. It would have clicked sooner in your brain if you weren’t so fixated on the way he licked the gun.

“But it is… isn’t it? You wanted us, wanted to trust us, and now that you think we don’t want that you’re lashing out. You want proof yeah? That we still want you?” Yunho’s words cut deep but-

He wasn’t wrong.

At your core, you just wanted a place to belong. No matter how well you did on the job, how many things you achieved, it all meant nothing without someone to trust. Someone in your corner. You’ve never had that, and they have given you a taste of their corner.

You wanted that. But it meant nothing unless they wanted that.

All the fight was pulled from you as Yunho flipped you over, holding your hands above your head with one hand as he ripped your panties off with the other. He was rough. Two fingers shoved into your pussy before you could even react.

“She’s so wet Hwa- fuck. You get off on the fight baby girl? Like to be choked and tossed around? I like doing that to you.” Yunho whispered in your ear, nibbling at the flesh as his fingers pumped into you roughly.

The gun was still in your hand, you could easily point it at Seonghwa to get Yunho to stop. This was wrong, he was being mean about it and yet-

With a moan you dropped the gun, instead gripping the sheets and lifting your ass for more of what he was giving you. “Told you.” He chuckled darkly, fingers removed just to get shoved into your mouth.

Even as he let go of your wrists to undo his pants, you remained pliant under him, glancing over at Seonghwa while you sucked your own juices off the two appendages. He had stilled, watching the scene before him while biting his lip.

You held his eye content as Yunho pushed his entire length into you, a raspy cry leaving your sore throat and eyes going wide. You knew how this looked, especially on paper, but you made no effort to stop it.

Not when Seonghwa looked at you with such impatient desire your pussy throbbed around Yunho’s dick slamming into the deepest parts of you. His size matched Mingi’s, and there was the drag of metal on his tip that hit all the sweet spots with you still being so tight. No pleas to stop would be coming out of your mouth, just moans and pants as you just gave in.

Yunho fucked you with such a force the whole bed shook, his hand grabbing your throat again to bend you back, the shift in angle having you cream on his dick with the lack of oxygen. You felt high, even a bit like you were going to pass out, but you latched onto consciousness like your life depended on it.

In a way, it did.

“That’s it. Maybe San was right, you are made for us. Taking my cock so fucking well- I can see it bulging out your cute tummy. See that Hwa?” Yunho rasped out against your ear, staring down your front.

Seonghwa shifting into your view was not what you were expecting, his now freed hand pressing against your stomach and hissing. “You’re being too hard on her.” Yunho must have tossed him a spare handcuff key and you were just too delirious to notice.

“The brat was acting out, I’m just- ngh fuck- putting her in her place.” Yunho’s words were now heavier, his grip on your throat different from when he was choking you earlier, this time with the intent to be pleasurable for you. Couple that with Seonghwa pressing down on your stomach where you could feel Yunho bulging it out with each thrust, you felt completely fucked dumb.

Just let them do what they want to you, because at least they wanted you. Tears sprung in your eyes, from the pleasure, pain, and raw emotion that began to surface.

Seonghwa wiped them away, now kneeling before you and cupping your face in his hands. Finally you moved your own hands, grabbing his biceps to hold on as both you and the bed rocked harder from Yunho’s growing erratic thrusts. “It’s alright Angel, we’ll take care of you.” His soft words were a harsh comparison to Yunho’s roughness.

You couldn’t formulate any words as another climax hit you, this time your vision becoming hazy as your eyes rolled back. Fucked through your orgasm, as soon as Yunho’s hips stopped their assault you blacked out, the last things you felt were hot cum filling your womb and gentle kisses on your face.

In the darkness of your mind, both warmths eluded you… drowned out by how utterly broken you felt.

Taglist (Capped): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

| @philijack | @lelaleleb | @isiloiale | @vannabanana1995  | @piratequeen-queenofgames

| @starstruckforyou | @minheeskitten | @amphiroxx  | @cloudysannie | @sugarnspice630

| @sanhwalvr | @plutoneu |  @sousydive |  @fatalt | @iwishiwasrichasfuck

| @bitchwhytho | @st4rhwa | @thesafecafe | @alextheweeb7 | @ddaeing

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

[misscherry-26]

The time where you knitted John a sweater... and he hated it.

Pairing: John Price x reader (husband x wife relationship)

Warnings: None

Author's Note: Yes, I saw the most beautiful and cute pair of shark slippers but they weren't on my size... And yes, I started knitting and it was a rough start (I didn't make a sweater, just a scarf that I never finished to be honest) but I thought it could be a good idea to put those details in a story. So here it is. Comments are welcome! I love to talk about my stories, tell me your thoughts on them!

I'm thinking on making another part, maybe the time she made the cherry keychain, and adding a scene with John telling her the truth about the sweater, hahaha. Let me know in the comments if you would be interested on reading a part 2!

~No edited, mistakes to be corrected later.

You've been practicing for a week. You've been doing and re-doing the knots every time you messed up. So far it was going well... Which is why—as you hold it in front of you, now finished— can't understand what happened.

Smiling proudly at it, you hug it, giggling and happy that you made it. Your first big piece. A sweater.

But not just a sweater, this is the sweater.

John steps on the living room, cup of tea in one hand, towel in the other drying his hair after his daily workout session in the backyard—which, by the way, you love to see. He's dressed in a casual navy blue t-shirt and grey joggers. Kind of funny, since you are wearing something similar, with the personal touch of a shark-themed slippers you found in on of those Korean stores in the city.

"watcha got there?" He asks casually as he leans on the archway that separates the living room from the dining room.

You immediately cover the piece behind your body, turning around, an innocent, yet proudly, smile covering you. "Close your eyes!"

His lips curve slightly, as if he wants to laugh, (he can't quite remember at what exactly, your emotion at what you hide, or at your cute cozy outfit) but the gesture vanishes almost instantly as he stands tall and closes his eyes.

You take his tea and place it on the coffee table as you guide him to sit on the couch, he gets comfortable, opening his legs wider, arms stretched out on the curve of the couch.

Standing between his legs, you take out the sweater you had behind, stretch it out and present it.

"open those pretty eyes."

John follows her command, and his expression is... Unreadable— The same one he had when you show him the very first piece you made. A cherry keychain, which he thought you bought it to a kid but then realizing he made a big mistake saying that so he decided to love it, even though it looked like as if his keys had two giant red balls hanging on there. (Note: John grew an unexpected loyalty to it. To this day he still has it on his keys).

He eyes the piece up and down, down and up, left to right, right to left, and he doesn't have a clue as to what he should say right now. But he definitely wants to laugh at it. Thing is... Horrible. Oh god, it's so horrible he hopes it gets lost or worse, it burns on an accident so he doesn't have to wear it— If his able to put it on. The neck looks ten times bigger than any normal size. The left right looks okay, except for the sleeve that it's short. But the right side? Thing looks like it's melting. Sleeve long enough that could fit a leg instead of an arm. What kind of person can make a sweater look like it's melting? My wife, apparently, he thinks. Facial expressions frozen, not daring to move the smallest muscle possible.

Oh and on top of that? Sweater is red. The most brightest tone of red.

He hates it. He doesn't like it.

"it's beautiful... Wow sweetheart."

You throw it at him, plopping down by his side, smile wide.

"Really? I know you wanted to get that one we saw at the store but I couldn't help it and try to make it myself. I know it's red and you aren't a fan of it but please please give it a chance, it will look good on you." You grab at his arm, practically begging at him.

John hesitates for a second before grabbing the... Thing. Taking a closer look at it.

Yeah, no. This definitely can't be saved. He wishes he could just toss it on the bin and laugh at it, or tell you the truth, but he knows he can't do it. It will break your heart. You poured time and love in this, thinking of him all the time.

He is fucked.

"yeah sure, later I will —"

"What do you mean? Silly, try it now." You playfully punch his bicep.

His Adam's apple seems to slash his throat when he gulps. He takes a look at the sweater, then at you, then at the sweater...

"I—."

A day later...

"Oi captain, looking good in the picture." Soap teases him, mouth full of food since it was lunch break.

John stops chewing on the delicious chicken parmesan you made him for lunch, raising an eyebrow at the comment. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Soap shakes his head, laughing at his innocence. Ghost sits down with his food next to him, peeking at it, he is wearing the mask, but even that can't find the fact that he is suppressing a laugh at the photo he is seeing.

"Give me that," he wants to snatch the phone but it's an impossible task, because Soap gets up just in time, moving his arm away. once he makes sure that his captain won't attempt to snatch it again, he shows him the photo. One he knows pretty well, because it's the one you took yesterday. Wearing that damn sweater.

"How did you get that?"

"Well, your wife texted me, asking me for some advice about it, and since I'm pretty good at knitting ... Red suits you captain, aye." He teases John.

In that moment, John couldn't decide what he should do first: Kill Johnny, ask him how you have his number, or burn that damn sweater.

[dereks-unrelenting-heart]

SFTH Chaotic Highlights (OMG Is This A Joke)

Alright, I'm finally starting to make these for the longforms! These are gonna be quite a bit longer than the other two I've made, since these videos are (typically) longer and I have a lot of thoughts about them lol (edit while writing, less than halfway through the video - yeah, I have way more to say than I thought I would)

Before I even get into the video itself, I just love the bold move of having their first Youtube longform be one about nazis, let's people know the kind of humor they'll be getting from these guys lmao

Also shout out to the not insignificant number of people who fully didn't recognize AJ with hair

Luke's executive decision to grab a prop gun and just stand there like 🧍🏼

"If he was only a foot and a half taller, he would be a perfect nazi!" Still one of my favorite Luke short jokes, because if I was him I genuinely wouldn't know how to take that observation-

Not sure why Sam chose the puffy purple jacket for his villain character, but at least we get to call him Ze Blackberry now

I'd like to imagine as Sam was introducing himself, he looked over to Luke like 'oh shit right, he's still just fucking standing there, I should probably include him somehow' and to Sam that ofc meant flirting with him

Which btw is the strangest flirting attempt I've ever seen- "Beautiful little pocket-sized Aryan" and "Sexy little ferret" ?? Guys I've never flirted with anyone but I don't think he's doing it right

"Guten Abend" Luke/Hans isn't good at this flirting thing either, but at least they're both having fun

Two French brothers casually parachuting over Berlin during World War II, nothing weird about that

"Ja- yes- er, oui! I'm trilingual, I'm sorry" Idk if it's the language confusion or the fact he apologized to the nazi, but this was a great line

"The plan is working perfectly, we're making them uncomfortable. Keep it up!" Luke, who has done very little in that regard except respond to Sam: "Okay!!" *just keeps standing there*

"Hard day being a nazi?" Considering you're currently giving him a backrub and are probably about to fuck him, I'd say he's having a pretty good day

Before Luke's BAFTA winning portrayals of grief in The Evil Make-A-Wish Kid and The Grape Depression, we had AJ's sobbing in OMGITAJ

So glad this play was set mainly in France so AJ could show off his French knowledge in the best ways (skipping across the stage and singing)

Sam characteristically entering briefly as an unspecified beast that for simplicity I'm going to call a ram

Genuinely one of my favorite and most underappreciated moments in the video is Katherine assigning Luke's character a feminine name, which he clearly didn't expect, and he just takes a moment to reevaluate life, while staring at the comedically placed banana in his hand. 10/10 fantastic bit

"My husband has been captured" "You know this for sure?" "Well he didn't come home and he's a French spy so" Fair logic that was 100% correct

"I already have a husband" "Well Xavier will have to wait until he's officially dead then" rip Jean-Luc man, at least Sarah seems to genuinely love him and be loyal though, good for them

Tag yourself, I'm AJ fangirling heavy over Xavier as he walks onstage

"I could have mimed it but I did not" has and forever will live in my brain rent free, bro had no reason to do that but took the fucking opportunity

Also Sarah's friend (did she ever get a name?) is simping for Xavier more than Sarah herself, they could've just fucked instead

"I don't know the French word for mice" "C'est une souris, une souris, une souris" French lessons with AJ

I've already made a whole post about my love for pre-reveal Xavier, but jesus, can you blame me? This character is the actual reason I started being attracted to Tom in the first place, why is he so SMOOTH-

Also the fact Luke didn't even flinch when Tom tilted his chair back and just nonchalantly crossed his legs- This whole scene is perfect istg

"I'm just going to take a few pictures-" That's so real of you girl

"I am a man" Gonna start saying this in front of the mirror as affirmations in the morning, same tone and everything

Tom launching himself across the stage before he even has the chance to rebutton his shirt lol

"Look out! It's the nazi-looking guy!" Saying this about the actual nazi is so funny

Not me being genuinely kinda sad about François getting killed

Katherine getting into Sam's carriage with a pumpkin (For some reason??) and Sam pausing not once, but twice, and eventually deciding to proceed as normal and not question it

Jean-Luc: *crying because trauma* Katherine: "Aw.. If you're thirsty you could drink it!" Katherine might've earned her place as my favorite 5th SFTH member they've had

Big Hans showing up with an entirely different vibe from the last time we saw him- Maybe because he's not busy being gay with Ze Blackberry

But really, why is this nazi boy so excited about the french language while he's taking over their country

"Les coqs :D" Sir what is this energy you're putting out, it's confusing me

I like that instead of just saying something like "It's a French horse, why do I care if I kicked it" he's just like "German horses wouldn't give a shit, your horses are just weak"

"Very hairy chickens you have here" A joke they couldn't have made now-

I'd just like to point out that Big Hans didn't get shot from what I could tell, so he could technically still be alive. Idk what to do with that information, I just wanted it out there

Tom pulling his classic sexy-character move: Foot dramatically placed on chair

The cleaner just being like "what a fucking mess, god I hate my job" as if Xavier and Sarah aren't currently having a whole plot-altering revelation in the same room

Oh yeah, and this is also the moment I was very relieved Sarah was a better person than me (/hj) and didn't sleep with Xavier

Also, mostly unrelated, but Katherine's voice specifically as the cleaner reminds me of DHMIS every single time and idk why

"Are you quite finished??" "... Honestly, no"

"But who would do that? Who would do- It was me" He tried to be mysterious but Xavier really wanted credit for what he did

Sam the Ram returns! Very cool that their first video had classics of all kinds: Sam being a chaotic animal, AJ getting to be French, Tom being a sexy German, and Luke being an equally-attractive-but-not-quite-as-played-up woman

"I was tortured by two men gettig with each other next to me" "They're always doing that, the nazis" If SFTH can make nazis gay af, they truly can do anything

Why does Ram-Sam look so offended on behalf of the French after Luke's "It's in my nature" line lmaoo

"Where did you get my dildo!?" Amazing line from Luke, but really what was that thing??

And ofc Xavier dies as he lived.. Shirtless. Sexy evil bastard-

[killuintense]

❝ tell me you are mine ❞

stepdad!leon x fem!reader.

summary: you just wanted he to be yours, one more night, one last night... just one last one, right?

content: 3.9k words, angst and little comfort, porn with plot, p in v, unprotected sex, doggy style, oral (m receiving), reader rides Leon, breeding kink, size kink, stepcest, age gap (reader ALWAYS +18), real daddy kink yk (not only in the sexual way)

note: i bring the third part because i see that you like it a lot uwu, i hope you enjoy it even though i'm a dramatic as fuck. all your reblogs and comments are well received !! ily'all. ♡

THE CHAPTER IS BEING CORRECTED AND EDITED TO AVOID GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, so i'm sorry if there are parts that are not very understandable uwu.

"Thank you for accompany me..." you said in a soft voice, and your eyes slipped out the window, blonde hair peeking out made you smile in a mischievous way.

"It's okey... I wouldn't want to let you walk around alone" said Mike, your college mate, with whom you had finished a project that very day and, therefore, the hours had passed so fast that when you wanted to realize it the sun had already said goodbye. And, ever the gentleman, he offered to accompany you to your place of residence.

You knew that Leon was looking out the window, attentive to how his little daughter took the boy's arm with her hands and caressed him with feigned innocence. Your companion immediately tensed, laughing softly with you, and before you could even get any closer than you were the door opened with a swiftness worthy of your stepfather. Come on, he wasn't a government agent just for the hell of it.

"Inside" his voice was low and he didn't bother to greet the young man in front of him, who with an uncomfortable look said goodbye to you as best he could and took off, rather uneasily. And he was no less, a man of 6'4", with large arms and breasts that drew a menacing stance. That is until you looked at his eyes, his furrowed brows and the sharpness of his gaze that made you shiver. But, even though Mike flew away in fear, you could only feel your panties getting wet, making you sigh.

You didn't let him notice, at least not that much, and just walked in gently pushing the older man's shoulder in annoyance "Thanks for scaring the fuck out of my partner" you grumbled, arms crossed and the tantrum tone made Leon snort, closing the door behind him. Yes, you were his lovely girl but you could also be fucking capricious a lot of the time, going so far as to disobey. He blamed your mother for that behavior, anyway.

"We already talked about how dangerous being late is, and you keep doing the same thing" his tone was harsh and impatience was starting to show, which deep down made you stir because, well, pissing Leon off was a hard thing to do and you were pulling it off without trying very hard.

"Mike walked me here!" you argued with him, stomping your foot on the floor and feeling your hormones flutter in your stomach. You just wanted him to shut the fuck up and stop talking to you with that worry and demand in his tone of voice, all it accomplished was to send your body into a state of confusion. Where you were fighting with yourself about whether that discomfort in him made you feel worried or... horny.

"I don't like that boy walking around after you, you know I can't leave you in the hands of just anyone..." his tone softened and he tried to move closer to you, wanting to rest his hand on your waist, but you were exalted enough to let him touch you. You were too weak before him, holy shit.

"Leon" you emphasized, moving away only a few slight steps. His blond eyebrows rose in surprise "It's my life, you know that, don't you?" you crossed your arms over your chest and sighed "I'm not a child...or why can you have a normal life with my mother and I have to be left waiting for you?" your words seemed to sink deep into Leon. His gaze contracted and he sighed, causing him to take a full upright posture.

"Your mother or I will pick you up at the university, no more delays... and NO more classmates escorting you to the front door, got it?" his tone of voice rose and you felt the lump in your throat tighten, causing you to step forward, desperate, trapped. You wanted to hit him, you wanted to ruin him and make him regret his stupid words. But at the same time you wanted everything to go back to the way it was a few hours before; just to have him to yourself and to take care of you the way only he knew how.

But this was getting out of hand. Both of them.

"Fuck you, Leon" you uttered, not a word more, not a word less. Your posture remained the same, both of you staring at each other in a battle of who had more pride. But you were competing with Leon Stubborn Kennedy, that was going to be fucked up.

"What did you say, brat?" he raised an eyebrow and took a step forward but you got ahead by walking up the stairs, leaving him with the words in his mouth "Who the hell do you think you are for-"

"Fuck you! That's what I mean!" you shouted, almost unintentionally but... you broke free, you could almost feel the tears threatening to explode in your eyes.

"If you think you can do what you want you are wrong, it's my fucking house and you will do what I tell you" his voice was hard, you had never, seriously, never heard him talk to you like that. In his posture, look, presence there were no traces of the loving and caring father that Leon was, but rather of a hard and strict father... almost like your biological father, let's say "If you think you can bring any asshole to the door of my house and make little scenes throwing yourself on him, get those ideas out of your fucking head!" he seemed exasperated, but those last words ended up spilling the glass, leaving you with your heart in your hand. But you could only squeeze it and put it aside, but fuck your heart.

"And you get it out of your fucking head that you can fuck me and then go on with your life normally!" you ran up the stairs as fast as you could and with a loud bang you slammed the door. Your heart was pounding and tears were already inevitable, streaming down your red cheeks even though you were trying to be strong and not fall.

Leon downstairs was trying to understand how everything had escalated into such a fight. What was going on in your mind that suddenly things had become so distorted; with him and you saying hurtful things to each other that didn't even make sense.

However, that situation from the night before had been going around in your mind all day long. You had gone out in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, thinking that Leon and your mother were already sleeping, but the dim light and sound of the television made you you will go down slowly to the stairs and you saw them both comfortably on the sofa. Leon lying on her chest while she gently stroked his hair. You felt your heart being pierced by a painful pang that left you breathless for a few seconds. You felt envy, hatred, and sorrow that made you feel guilt and desire at the same time. Envy of your mother, for not being the one who would be in her place, and that hatred mixed with sadness for knowing that, even if you tried, you would never be the most important woman in Leon's life. You would not be the one bound to him with vows of loyalty and love. You were simply that morbid sensation that probably excited him, but you couldn't blame him because even if you tried to push him away and ignore him, the addiction to the sensations that being with him generated in you were simply... desperate, overwhelming but beautiful.

You had no choice but to go to bed with tears in your eyes and waking up the next morning with the news that your mother would be absent that weekend, and then it made more sense for you to be together that night. And you couldn't believe that you were more attentive to how much time Leon decided to spend with his wife than you were to the thought that you would miss your mother in her absence.

And the guilt returned.

And it lingered and distressed you. Making you feel alone, without the arms of someone to shelter you. Looking to any foolish boy you came across for some of that warmth that Leon was able to give you. And really... no one was able to love you as much as he did.

Sometimes you hated yourself and the habit of needing a cool glass of water very late at night. But there you were again praying to God that he wasn't in the room. However, it seemed that day was not a lucky one, and Leon's blond hair was illuminated by the dim warm light of the lamp, matching the low sound of the TV. As soon as you came downstairs with the greatest care of all, you saw how he stirred on the couch, probably waking up from his soft reverie.

You ignored him, you were just looking for water and that was it, you didn't have to see each other and he didn't have to get up. You opened the fridge, took a glass and poured the water gently so as not to make too much noise. And there it was again. That soft scent of expensive whiskey, his stubble a few days old against your neck and his arms wrapped around. There was the reason for your lack of compromise, you couldn't resist him and you were sure he felt you leaning your back against his chest, closing your eyes slowly.

"I don't want to talk to you if you're drunk..." you murmured, the sigh was inevitable, but you didn't move an inch away. You could feel Leon's arms squeeze you tighter and his soft lips leave a trail of wet kisses down the curve of your neck. As if you were going to run away again and that alone was enough to make you stay. And it was.

"I'm not... I barely tasted a sip" his voice drowned out by the kisses he was leaving you, his citrus yet sweet scent intruding on your skin to mark you and leave his scent on you "but i really need to talk to you, baby, I didn't mean to sound that way and I don't want you to feel that way about this either" contradictory to his words, you turned around without leaving his arms, and rested your tired head on his chest. You were his little girl and he was going to take care of you, right? You just wanted to ignore reality for one night.

"It's impossible for me not to feel that way, Leon" your hands clutched the fabric of his shirt, shortening the space between you even more "I just... I don't want to think, I don't want to concentrate on that anymore... I just want to be yours for one more night and for you to be mine. But only mine, you know what I mean?" your face lifted gently and you stopped holding back, seeking his lips with a thirst to taste him.

"I'm yours..." he murmured, their mouths brushing inches away from colliding and sinking into a kiss "but it's just that despair me that anyone else is near you, that anyone can smell you, feel you, hurt you" you licked his lower lip and sucked the spot gently, without it turning into a kiss "I'll be yours as many times as it takes" he moaned in desperation, opening his mouth as soon as you initiated a kiss just as desperate as the first time.

The disorder, the chaos, the whirlwind of sensations, on the contrary, calmed your mind. You stopped putting pressure on yourself wondering if it was right, if the two of you could maybe at some point be something more, or if it was just the thrill of the moment and he would leave you like everyone else who had passed through your life. You only wanted him for you, you wanted there to be no other woman in his life but you, you would give him reasons so he couldn't forget you. Yes, maybe that night or the next night would be the last, but you would be so marked in him that he would never be able to erase you.

Your kisses were his addiction, the endless missions where he didn't have you like at that moment made him go crazy; that he thought about leaving everything that at some point meant something just for you. He lived to have you on him like that moment. Both of you on the soft couch, his hands massaging the soft flesh of your ass while you ate his mouth like your favorite dessert. You felt small on top of him, but you didn't stop pushing him to the limit for it; you wanted in a way to punish him, to ruin him for making you feel so displaced from his life, and Leon just wanted you to stay close to him, to stick like gum to his shoe and chase him to hell if possible. That's where you both belonged, he thought.

"Fuck, just let me touch you more" he moaned, your tongues caressing each other slowly now, as if savoring that thing about both of you that you hadn't been able to taste in days. Your hands caressed his cheeks and traveled to Leon's hair, massaging the trails left by those golden but opaque strands. Your kisses moved slowly and wetly down their neck, you heard them gasp low even and could feel the inside of your thighs collide with the hardness of his cock. You were both wet but your kisses stopped when one of his long, thick fingers wanted to intrude into your shorts, brushing against your entrance.

"If you keep going, I'm leaving" the stiffness of his body was instantly felt, and like a dumb hound he searched your eyes trying to understand what he did wrong, but you weren't going to let him go so easily "You know, dad..." you began, moving his hands away leaving them at the sides of his body while your right took his fat piece and squeezed it gently above the fabric "I like everything about you, really.... down to the smallest detail, but I have to admit... God, your cock is one of my favorite things" your tone of voice interspersed with a moan made Leon sigh, the sound was heavy and husky, and you even saw his length startle gently. Your mouth watered, you felt your body go into desperation from the desire to drown with him.

"You're going to fucking make me explode..." Leon moaned, throwing your head back, bumping against the back of the couch as he lifted your hips in desperation and impatience. Your soft and playful giggle made him curse under his breath, your fingers running along his veins that bulged through the stain on his boxers which you soon undid, and he helped you as fast as he had the chance. You licked from his base to his glans, red, wet and dripping. You gave soft kisses, loving that part of him that always made you feel full, complete. It was that part of Leon that reminded you that he was a man, that he could protect you, but that he could make you tremble until you couldn't stand it anymore.

"Do you want me to squeeze you, daddy?" you sucked on his tip like your favorite popsicle, moaning as your hands cradled his balls and fondled them, they felt hot and heavy, and your insides contracted into nothingness itself imagining the amount of milk you would have to milk for him later. "This dick is only mine, isn't it? Only your pretty daughter's" the saliva barely let you speak, because your head bobbed up and down on the hot, wet flesh, blessing it with your tight throat.

"Only yours, baby, no one else's" Leon moaned, his hands itching from not being able to grab you by the head and plunge you deeper onto his fucking cock, to make it even clearer to you "My cock only cums for you, love, fuck, I just want to fuck you until you pass out" he gave a gentle lunge as his tone of voice shook as if he had run a marathon for hours, and the throbbing of his cock in the hollowness of your cheeks only made you smile wider.

You pulled away and wiped the saliva and precum from the corner of your lips savoring your stepfather's arousal "Sometimes you act like I'm not the only one, and that makes me feel bad" a soft pout played on your lips as you looked at them with sorrow, real sorrow. Ruined and sweaty with his bangs sticking to his forehead as he struggled not to send everything to shit and masturbate looking at your pretty body in front of him. "C'mon, Leon, show me that your cock is only mine and nothing else" you whispered, a secret between the two of you, and before you could finish the sentence your shorts disappeared from your legs and your chest stuck to the couch. You moaned as Leon's hands didn't know where to start, they didn't know whether to rip your shirt off, whether to touch your tits, he didn't know what the fuck to do. He was an animal desperate to make you his in a thousand possible ways.

Before your head could understand what had happened because of that sudden change, the martyrizing emptiness of just a few moments ago disappeared. The silence and tension was immediately cut off with a moan from Leon and you in unison and a thrust caused your legs to falter. He had to hold you from your waist to keep you from collapsing, causing your back to crash against his chest, tearing your throat into a moan as he pulled out completely and thrust back in "My cock is made to go in your fucking pussy” he growled from deep in his chest “Damn, you always let me fuck you so good, brat" his words sounded harsh against your ear as he buried his face in the crook of your neck sinking into your messy falling hair, breathing in that sweet scent that warmed him so much.

Lunge after lunge your body bounced, your shirt was gone from your body and his hands squeezed your tits as you gasped heavily “Dad-... Fuck! Yes!" slammed against your spot, against that button that gave him the power to fuck you any way he wanted. And there you were, on all fours like a fucking bitch in heat moaning so loud that anyone passing in front of the house would worry about what was going on inside.

Before he could increase the speed of his onslaught, you broke free of his grip and, much to your dismay, pulled his cock out of you. The sticky sound stopped for a few seconds but Leon didn't even have a moment to ask what was going on, before you spoke "Just... sit..." you could almost hear him object to this, but you were so high on his scent that you still felt his hands squeezing your hips and the sensation of your empty entrance was driving you crazy "Just, sit, please" you whimpered and turned around, trying not to fall. He closed his mouth and sat down.

Oh, for the love of God.

He looked so... you didn't know what, but him, with his thighs open, his shirt off revealing his chest rising and falling in the frenzy of the moment and his cock jerking desperate for a place to bury itself. So desperate to bury itself in you. And you were in no position to deny him; it was easy for you to climb on top of him -who was quick to hold your body in his hands- and line his cock up at your entrance, gently penetrating yourself. Leon's eyes narrowed and his mouth stretched into a grimace as he hissed, and you in your disconnected state couldn't help but melt at that image, the lines of expression at the side of his mouth, his jaw contracting and relaxing as the two of you became connected once more.

Connection intermingled with a constant back and forth of sensations, you jumped on top of him as you sought his lips, dizzy from the constant twinges that swirled in your belly down to your throbbing core "Mhm, mine, you're mine" you moaned into his mouth, you held his chin in your left hand as the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs echoed through the house joining his grunts and his saliva as he sucked on your tits, sucking on your nipples with no thought of the marks he would leave on you later.

"Yours, ‘m fuckin’ yours" his pelvis lifted and penetrated even harder, you could feel the head of his cock give into your stomach, he ravaged your womb each time his hips lifted and ground against your sweet spot, stealing moans from you uncontrollably. His hand squeezed your hip and as you felt the frenetic thrusts you could feel how he was only a few more strokes away from exploding in you. He looked like a child clinging to his favorite stuffed animal, hugging you tightly as he buried his face in your tits but at the same time fucking you with a force that you knew sooner or later would make it difficult for you to walk.

You wanted to go on, you needed to go on, but you didn't know at what moment -nor how, without needing to touch yourself- you were spilling all over the cock of your stepfather, of the man who opened his arms to you in a brotherly way every time you needed him. But there you were, getting him all wet as drops trickled down your thighs and stained the couch a little. The overstimulation was getting too much, you felt ruined and before you could moan again Leon filled you with his creamy seed without being able to help it. He didn't come out and cum on your face, tits or abdomen, no, he let all that tension and despair fill you. He didn't want to fight you again, he wanted to be inside you more than anything else, and filling you, letting you squeeze him until he squeezed out the last drop, was a sign of his desperation "I..." he gasped and crushed himself more and more slowly against your entrance already without strength, just to not let anything escape -which was impossible, he really had a lot to get out- "I really love you" he sighed, without stopping hugging you. You wanted to respond and say that you too, that you loved him madly, that you would give up everything to be able to wake up next to him every morning. But your body could only lie down on the couch and open your arms, offering him your warmth. You needed to give him your warmth before you became conscious again.

It was probably very late at night, and both Leon and you were on the couch resting your devastated bodies. You had that man, as intimidating as he could often be, lying on your chest sleeping peacefully. His heavy breathing made you understand that he was in a deep and undisturbed sleep, and that only made your heart squeeze. You knew he could be very stiff and tense, always alert, but having him asleep between your legs while allowing you to caress him and stroke his hair so naturally, made you feel love.

Love.

It was specific to feel that. You loved loving Leon, in all his ways. You loved when he put aside the paperwork to take you to your favorite coffee shop, when on his missions he remembered you and brought you a present -you loved that brown teddy bear he brought you from San Francisco-, or when you felt overwhelmed by college and he helped you study by sitting for hours to listen to you tell him everything you knew. Maybe it was your silly, lovesick girl imagination, but you saw that love in his eyes, a mixture of brotherly pride and... maybe something else. Something else you could feel it when they have sex, when just sleepily fuck in the mornings when your mother is not around, and you feel how he penetrates you as if you were going to break and he just wants to stay there, inside you, just to make sure everything is all right.

You closed your eyes and sighed. That would be the last night.

Sure, you had said that two nights ago, maybe a month ago... maybe two... but you couldn't help it. You couldn't help it if the hugs weren't enough, if his kisses left you wanting more. You were weak, weak before him. And he didn't have the strength to say no to you, he had tried a thousand times, but he would melt for you, he would kill himself for you.

You closed your eyes.

You would just forget that feeling for one more night and sink into his warmth. You didn't want to have to decide, not so soon. You just wanted to keep loving him. Just wanted to keep feeling his love.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Resident Evil Village characters with a chubby fem s/o

Dating Headcanons (+ Some bonus drabbles for a few)

Including Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau and Mother Miranda

(Reader is somewhat coquette? Princesscore? Just the dainty feminine type)

Credits to dividers used are on this post.

Rules for requests

If you don't want to send requests through Tumblr, my Instagram is always an option.

Please interact with this post as much as possible, it helps a lot. Thank you <3

A/n: Hi lovelies, Lia here. I'm back after a long time. I hope you enjoy this post and I'll be setting up my schedule soon, I'll be posting once or twice every 1-2 week/s. If you can't tell, purple has always been my theme. I'll add more to these and edit it if I think of more to add. Any mistakes will be corrected upon checking.

This is just me but I love the concept of like a girl who is so sweet and her style just looks so fem and she's just surrounded by all the creepy things that are resident evil.

I'll be checking and if this post does well I will write more.

Warnings/Disclaimers: English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Blood, gore?, violence, typical resident evil stuff and mentions of insecurity. Slight suggestive content if you squint.

Alcina Dimitrescu

First of all despite your plush stature, she still treats you like a porcelain doll.

She just adores you so much (I mean she herself is tall and plus size).

Motherly nature and all, she has three daughters and honestly if she ever sees you interact with them. It would just warm her cadou infested heart.

Insecure about stretch marks? She'll kiss that shit away right then and there. She'll even show you hers because let's be honest here stretch marks are beautiful, you just don't like them on yourself.

Anyone insults or talks shit about you? She'll get rid of them, in any way possible depending on what they said. She'll pick a suitable punishment for them, ranges from "you're fired" to "I'm going to skin you alive and tear your heart out".

Alcina is a confident and dominant figure, she isn't swayed by something so small as beauty standards. Especially in herself, therefore I think she'd even help you build your confidence up.

Gifts galore with this woman, she love to spoil you with her riches. Loves to see you adorned with luxurious items that she give you.

Love dressing up with you, seeing you all dolled up for her. Has custom made clothes for you, sometimes opts for an outfit that matches or contrasts yours perfectly.

Knows what compliments your features best since she loves to bring them out.

Her hosting soirees and balls with you as her special guest, having you wear elegant dresses that she bought for you.

I see her as this almost touchy type. She'll love having you curl up on her lap while she gets paperwork done.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

You called Alcina's attention wanting to see her reaction to the new dress you bought, Alcina's eyes lit up at your elegance and charm. She smiled warmly, taking your hand in hers. "You look enchanting, my darling," she purred, proud to have you by her side.

Karl Heisenberg

Stinky metal dilf here actually loves that you're so soft in contrast to his gruff and abrasive nature.

He hasn't had physical affection in a long time so having someone soft and warm to hold is new to him.

Karl is naturally protective over you, especially because he thinks you're fragile. I mean compared to whatever's in the village, the rest of the lords and Mother Miranda.

I bet you this man has tore down someone for you, he chopped them off limb by limb for insulting you.

I can't get enough of the dynamic you'd have. It's like the grumpy x sunshine trope, this man has a sharp tongue. Especially when you hear him insult Lady Dimitrescu.

This man has a soft spot for you, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can make him take a bath after being all sweaty from working with machinery all day.

I feel like he has scars all of his body, especially his very toned back.

Doesn't mind you leaving scratches when you're in the bedroom

Alcina sometimes tries to piss him off by commenting at the fact that you are soft and dainty while Karl is just the opposite and offers you an opportunity to be with "Someone refined" (She ain't wrong).

It really is just to get to Karl's nerves.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Karl smirked, trying to play it cool, but you could see the admiration in his eyes. "Not bad, princess," he teased, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly, "You're somethin' special, ya know?"

Donna Beneviento

You know Donna understands what it's like being insecure about looks but to her you're just perfect in every single way.

Donna just doesn't give a shit in a good way, she doesn't judge people based on their appearance. It's dumb and shallow.

Donna would absolutely adore making clothes for you or altering your current ones. It's a skill she's proud of and seeing you appreciate it makes her all the more in love with you.

Angie has made a few comments resulting in her getting kicked off into space but once Donna warms her about that and how you don't like it, she'll stop in respect towards you. Which is rare considering how Angie is.

Donna's personal style definitely helps contrast yours, though it's the opposite from your soft light colors.

Thinks you're so pretty, she's smitten. Even though yours are different from you, she still makes use of her skills to fit your clothing tastes.

I can just imagine her staring at you in awe as you spin around and show her how the dress she made fits you. I like to think she has your measurements memorized from head to toe.

She take one look at something and already know how it would fit on you or if she needs to alter.

You once asked her to make a doll that looks like the both of you (and Angie but like a smaller version that fits the doll's arms).

Donna entered your shared bedroom to find you but noticed something on the shelves. It was the dolls she made sitting against the book. She noticed how you positioned them. Holding hand while the tiny Angie replica was on the doll version of her's lap. Donna swore at that moment she was gonna melt.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Donna's expression softened as she saw you in the vintage lace dress. She held your hand, wordlessly conveying her affection and admiration.

Salvatore Moreau

God so help him, he was flabbergasted when he first heard about your insecurity. Literally why? Like you are just the most beautiful thing that walked the planet in his eyes.

He just worships the ground you walk on, he isn't as wealthy as the other lords but still, he give you his best efforts by carving you small trinkets out of wood.

Gifts you natural things he finds like crystals and whatnot.

Best of efforts when he comforts you. Sometimes he's too scared to physically touch you because he thinks he'll hurt you.

You're relationship is filled mostly by nature, despite the wasteland that surrounds your living area. It's hauntingly beautiful in it's own way. (Some of it I suppose)

Feels more at ease around you, think about how much he wanted to just make Mother Miranda proud of him, he's that with you but 10x more the effort.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Salvatore couldn't contain his delight at seeing you in the dress. "You're my beautiful water nymph princess!" he exclaimed, spinning you around with excitement.

Mother Miranda

You peeked her interest when she first saw you, I mean you're her complete opposite. She finds beauty in dark items and almost gothic stuff, so her taking an interest to you just made her even more curious.

She works a lot so gifts and trinkets to remind you of her are an occasional thing. I can just imagine you taming crows and she's just in awe.

Loyalty of crows means they leave you shiny trinkets and sometimes Miranda takes them for herself when she likes whatever they bring.

Again she's one to think you're fragile because of your style, you just look so cute and soft.

Nobody dares insult you, I mean if you really won the heart of Mother Miranda they are fucked if they even speak a little out of line.

Likes to keep you by her side despite working a lot. So you'd often be by her side during her meetings with the four lords and honestly you are such an eye candy.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Mother Miranda's composure remained regal, but her eyes showed approval. "You look exquisite" she acknowledged, holding your hand with reverence. To her, you were a jewel among mortals, deserving of admiration.

[milgram-en]

MILGRAM Novel 1: Chapter 1

T/N: Any additional Translator's Notes will be found in the replies. Check the original post before reblogging as TLs are occasionally revisited and edited.

A strangely chilly air caressed my cheeks. I slowly opened my eyes. It seems I had been asleep. A cold, white light illuminated an unfamiliar room. I was lying on my back in a large, soft bed. I had no idea why I was sleeping in a place like this. “Where am I?” This was not my room. The unnecessarily spacious room seemed to be about ten tatami mats big. There were extremely few things in it. Besides the bed, there was just a simple, steel desk. The room felt overwhelming with its size, raw concrete walls surrounding me, buzzing an eerie silence. Normally, if I’d woken up in such a situation, I’d be panicking. But, I just lay in bed, gazing around blankly. Why was that? —I couldn’t remember anything until I got to this place. I couldn’t even say my own name. Everything was vague as if I had no true sense of reality. So, even though I woke up in this unfamiliar place, I wasn’t disturbed; rather, I felt more confused about my loss of memory. As I slowly propped myself up, a voice came from somewhere. “You finally woke up,” a taut, dignified female voice spoke. T/N: 「やっと目を覚ましたわね」is the original line. The わ adds a feminine voice to the speaker (Jacka). There was no shadow of a person around me, but that voice I heard was clearly one in reality, not something coming from a speaker. I squinted slightly in confusion. Then, something the size that could be held within my hands jumped onto the bed with a soft thud. “I’m right here.” T/N: 「アタシはここよ」 is the original line. This Jackalope uses “atashi” pronoun, a feminine way of referring to oneself. It seemed that the thing that had come to me was speaking with the same feminine voice. I could hardly believe it. It was covered in soft, white fur. Two large, long ears protruded from its head as if asserting its presence. Just below the ears were two round eyes. It had a cute little body and a mouth. At first glance, it looked like a well-known animal. “…A rabbit?” As I said this, I understood that my words were inaccurate because the creature in front of me, in addition to the familiar physical features of a rabbit, had two magnificent stag-like antlers growing from its head. …And normal rabbits don’t talk anyways.

“I’m not a rabbit. I’m a Jackalope. Please don’t confuse the two,” the jackalope corrected me, slightly annoyed. Maybe she was often mistaken for a rabbit. I’d heard the name “Jackalope” somewhere before. It was definitely some sort of mythical creature. I couldn’t remember the exact details right at this moment but I knew for sure that it wasn’t a real creature… probably. “You can call me ‘Jacka’ for short,” Jacka said while scratching behind her ears with her hind legs. That gesture was so cute, but I debated whether or not to point out how rabbit-like it made her look. “Am I dreaming?” “No, this space truly exists. It’s not a dream. The fact that there’s beings like me who can speak human language is, well, just a margin of error. It’s nothing to be concerned about.” “If I shouldn’t worry about animals speaking fluently, then it seems I don’t have to worry about most things in the world.” “Well- Could you please get up now instead of lying in bed?” Jacka abruptly changed the subject and jumped off the bed. There were a lot of questions in my mind. Actually, I had nothing but questions. But, in that moment, I had no choice but to obey and follow Jacka. I couldn’t remember who I am and I’m in an unknown place; Jacka has complete control. I didn’t think that resisting in this situation would change anything so, I did as I was told and got out of bed. “Oh, you’re quite obedient.” Jacka looked at me as if she was curious about my obedience. “There’s no point in resisting, is there? I don’t remember anything about what happened before I got here, I don’t know if Jacka is a friend or foe. Until I fully grasp the situation I’m in, I thought it’d be best to do according to what Jacka says.” “Hm. You’re quite calm. You might be the ideal candidate for the role I’m about to assign to you.” “…Role?” “From now, you’re going to meet five people. Just like you, they all have their memories locked.” “Memories locked, huh?” Jacka’s wording made sense. When I tried to remember something, my mind felt foggy and I couldn’t find the relevant memory. It’s not that I’ve lost my memory, but it’s more so that it’s locked in some way. When I think about it like that, it makes sense. “I think that you can’t remember anything right now but, when the time comes, the key to your memories should be safely unlocked. Though, before that, I want you to complete some tasks.” “You mean I’m going to meet five people and then do something to them?” “You’re sharp— That helps. Yes, the people you’re going to meet are people who are significant to you. Just be careful— They’re not ordinary humans.” “What do you mean?” Jacka chuckled at me for asking a question—when I didn’t know anything—then responded. “The people you’re going to meet are all murderers.”

◇ As Jacka led me out of the room we found ourselves in a long hallway, footsteps echoing unnervingly. I silently glanced at my outfit. When I got up from that bed, I realized that I wasn’t wearing normal clothes. I was in a black, collared shirt and comfortable pants. I also had a cloak on and, additionally, a black brimmed hat that Jacka told me to wear while leaving the room. The clothes were adorned with golden embroidery all over, making it look like some kind of authoritative uniform. “Your role here is Warden. You will go by ‘Warden Es’.” Jacka’s voice echoed down the hallway. “Warden Es? That’s not my real name, is it?” “The rule here is that everyone must keep their names a secret. From now on, you will act as Es. You should think of it as something separate from your original self.” I nodded. Besides, I couldn’t even remember my real name anyway so I felt no resistance in using a different name. Still- the term “Warden” was something I wasn’t quite familiar with. When I looked back at my attire, now knowing that I would be playing the role of a Warden, I realized that the authoritative and overbearing design perfectly suited the image of the role of one. “The five murderers are waiting for you in the hall ahead. They—the ‘Prisoners’—and the hall—the ‘Panopticon’. Interact with them as you see fit. You can be intimidating or you can be friendly.” As ominous words lined up one after the other, I couldn’t help but grimace. “Wardens, Prisoners, Panopoticon— Jacka, what’s your aim here? Are you locking up a group of people in this creepy facility to play a game?” “A game, hm? To be precise, it’s more akin to an experiment… that I won’t deny. You can interpret it however you like, Es.” It didn’t really matter whether it was a game or an experiment. The important thing was that we were imprisoned in this place for something we didn’t know and even our memories got locked up.

◇ “Now, we’ve arrived at the Panopticon.” At the end of the long corridor stood a large, closed iron door. Jacka, who had been leading the way, stopped in front of it. As it recognized her presence, the heavy door slowly opened to the left and to the right. Beyond the door was a wide, circular space. In the center was a large, white, round table, surrounded by narrow cells that were divided by iron bars. It resembles a prison, I thought to myself, but then I remembered what Jacka had said earlier about the roles of Prisoner and Warden. Then, it clicked. This place truly was a “prison”. The ceiling was so high that it was impossible to see. Even if I squinted, all I could see was a dim darkness. It seemed that the panopticon was a huge cylindrical building that stretched vertically. Seated around the white round table were five prisoners, all dressed in white prison uniforms, and all watching me silently. As Jacka approached the table, her voice grew colder and more authoritative as she addressed the prisoners. “Warden Es has awakened. From this moment, the new era of ‘Judgement’ to judge the Prisoners’ sins begins.” I swallowed hard and walked over to the table where the prisoners were waiting. Each of the prisoners wore iron bracelets on their left wrists with a chain about 50 centimeters long extending from it. The chain was connected to a thick black book with a black spine. All the prisoners had a black book in their possession. The book appeared to have sturdy restraints, making it seem as if opening them freely was impossible. This combination of the white table and black books tethered by chains created a surreal atmosphere. “Hey- They call us prisoners but, in this situation where we can’t remember anything, it doesn’t really feel right to be told that we’re guilty of something,” a boy who looked to be in high school spoke up. There was a lightness in his tone that was out of place in this heavy and intimidating atmosphere of the panopticon. He let out a sigh, releasing tension, and leaned back in his chair. “But turns out it’s fine. I was kinda scared what kind of dangerous guy would come since they’re called ‘Warden’ but she’s around the same age as us. She seems harmless.” With those words, the tense atmosphere that had been ebbing between the four of them eased. It seemed that the prisoners hadn’t been told what kind of person the warden was. They were quite wary. When I entered the room, everyone stared at me in silence, not out of hostility but out of a strong sense of caution. The boy’s attitude became completely relaxed and he called out to me in a familiar manner. “My name here is Two-Side. Nice to meet you, Es.”

Two-Side smiled, his white teeth showing. He carried himself with a light-hearted attitude even in this unknown prison, but it didn’t seem like he was the type to be frivolous. It would be more accurate to describe him as friendly. It felt like he was showing his weaknesses on purpose to make the other person feel at ease. I could tell at a glance that he paid attention to even the smallest details of his appearance. He made no basic mistakes like shaving properly and even nails were polished and shiny. Considering that he was a boy around my age, he was well groomed. Combined with his handsome features, I thought it wouldn’t be surprising if he was popular with all the girls at school if he was a student. “You guys also have no memory of anything, right?” I asked just to make sure. “When you say ‘you all’, does that mean the Warden doesn’t remember anything either?” A short, pretty girl joins the conversation from the side. She wore glasses with indigo-colored frames, giving off a clean impression. Her shiny black hair reached down to her waist, without a single split end, I couldn’t help but want to touch it. “Yeah, I can’t remember anything before I got here either.” “In that case, we’re the same. None of us can remember anything, and we’re confused because that rabbit over there suddenly started calling us ‘Prisoners’.” The short girl, referred to as “Nervous”, smiled wryly, her gesture adorably innocent. I struggled to associate the word “murderer” with the small girl before me. They are called “Prisoners”, but could they really have committed murder? If they were really murderers in the first place, the police would’ve arrested them before taking them to such a suspicious place. “Nervous, let’s keep the chatter to a minimum.” Jacka shot a look at Nervous. “And I’m not a rabbit.” Nervous quickly covered her mouth in surprise. “Es, please take a seat. I will now begin a brief explanation of this prison.”

Prompted by Jacka, I shifted my gaze to the white round table where one seat remained vacant. Unlike the plain white chairs the prisoners were sitting on, the chair was adorned with the same golden ornaments as my uniform. That was my seat, it seems. The obvious luxurious design was probably to distinguish it from the Prisoners’ chairs. As I obediently took my seat, Jacka moved across the top of the table to stand right in front of me and surveyed the Prisoners. Then, she began to speak. “Now that the warden is here, I’ll say it again. Welcome, Prisoners, to MILGRAM Prison. This is a place bound not by the framework of a traditional judicial system; this is a place to redefine what crime and sin is.” MILGRAM. That seemed to be the name of this bizarre prison. However, all of this felt suspicious. Despite all those grandiloquent words being used, in a country governed by law, isn’t redefining crime outside of that system essentially lynching? “As you all know, all of you Prisoners here are murderers. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that your actions will be deemed ‘Unforgiven’ in this place.” The prisoners had various reactions to Jacka’s incomprehensible explanation. Some tilted their heads in confusion, unable to understand it. Some glared sharply. Some were waiting almost emotionlessly for Jacka’s next words. I stared at the fluffy fur on the back of Jacka’s head. “Whether to ‘Forgive’ or ‘Unforgive’ the Prisoners’ crimes is a decision entrusted to Warden Es. Her sole judgement will determine whether a Prisoner is guilty or innocent.” A deep sigh echoed. Among the four, the only one who seemed to be older by three years, a young man, was glaring suspiciously at Jacka. “Who on earth came up with such a system? Judging people based on one person’s subjective opinion doesn’t seem reasonable at all.” “Stop showing your hostility, Gentle. I don’t answer when it’s not necessary.” Jacka didn’t seem inclined to address Gentle’s remark head-on and brushed it off lightly. Then, she narrowed her eyes slightly. “Here, MILGRAM deals with crimes that the conventional judicial system cannot accurately judge. Crimes that are undoubtedly guilty, crimes that are undoubtedly innocent—such mundane cases don’t exist here.” “So, does that mean our crimes are ambiguous in terms of good and evil?” Gentle asked, continuing the discussion. This time, Jacka nodded, seeming to appreciate the question. “That’s right. Depending on the observer, the judgement of whether to ‘Forgive’ or ‘Unforgive’ your crimes may differ. Someone who knows the full story, someone who knows only the basic facts, or someone who strictly adheres to the legal standard—each person may come to different conclusions.” “I think that the current judicial system exists to eliminate that variability in conclusions.”  “In reality, each person inherently has many different answers but people are forced into a uniform judicial system for judgement. Is that truly sound? For instance, if a murderer is acquitted by reason of insanity, do you think the victim’s family members can accept that the murderer is innocent? I, personally, could never accept that. And if everyone can’t agree, it indicates a flaw in the system. That is why MILGRAM exists; as a stepping stone to a new justice system.” The panopticon fell silent. Gentle, too, refrains from speaking.

I found myself somewhat understanding Jacka’s perspective. Or so I think. Maybe the other Prisoners did too. Say that there’s a murderer who has gone completely insane. In accordance with legal procedures, a judge will declare them Not Guilty due to the lack of mental competence for responsibility*. However, given the feelings of the victim’s surviving family, no reason would justify a verdict other than Guilty. Depending on one’s position or standards of judgement, the decision to “Forgive” or “Unforgive” the person changes. [T/N: Japan’s Legal Competency/Ability to Fulfill One’s Responsibilities A person who lacks the capacity to be responsible cannot be blamed for their actions, thus it is meaningless to impose a penalty. The insanity defense is founded upon the idea of legal competency, specifically that insanity is the lack of legal competency. Insanity is defined as a state in which a person lacks the capacity to reason—discerning the right and wrong of a situation; discerning the propriety (conventionally accepted standards of behavior or morals)—and/or the capacity to control behaviour, the ability to act appropriately—or act with propriety—to a situation due to mental illness/disability/or other reasons (pathological reasons). Penalty is a consequence to a violation of responsibility and those judged to lack the capacity to be responsible cannot grasp the meaning of penalties.] Indeed, that may be true—Jacka turned to me, her small body looking up at me with a cute gesture—but the contents of her words were anything but cute. “Warden Es is free to use whatever criteria she would like for the basis for judgement. Law, sensibility, common sense, ethics, morality, instinct- It doesn’t matter. My job is to guide and observe you.” “...That’s quite an unpleasant situation for me,” I sighed. Jacka, unaffected by my reaction, simply waggled her short, round tail. “The sins and memories of the Prisoners are engraved in the ‘Book of Sins’ each of them were given. When the time comes to pass judgement, the Book of Sin will open automatically. Until then… That’s right.” A heavy atmosphere filled the room as Jacka spoke. With everyone’s attention on her, she announced something unexpectedly with a straight face. “Everyone, why not enjoy your free time?”

[kickbackkanzaki]

The Dungeon Master and Chess Queen

You're the new student and chess captain at Hawkins High. When Eddie Munson asks you for tutoring you're certain you have him handled but you may have underestimated his strategy.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

A/N Not so hot and heavy this chapter but I'm cooking up something for chapter four if you hang in there...

You were actually at band practice to enjoy some music and read a book on the bleachers while you waited for Robin. The two of you had a date for fries and the local bookstore afterwards but you let the onlookers believe you were there for Eddie.

"We can meet at your place or the public library, your choice," you whispered to Eddie as you twirled some of his hair around your finger.

Eddie had his hands on your hips with his fingertips hooked around your belt loops.

"Whoa not my place," he said a little frantic.

"Library it is," you declared and kissed the lock of hair twined around your finger.

Eddie made an unusual face that worried you.

"Yeah the thing is, we can't. I've got a lifetime ban there."

"How'd that happen?"

"There are a lot of details but it all boils down to a first edition Hemmingway and chocolate pudding."

You had several questions but thought it better to move along. Rehearsal would start in a minute and you needed a location for tomorrow's tutoring.

"Having guests is difficult for me," you explained a little cagey, "and the school wont let us use a room after hours because of our past shenanigans. So it'll have to be your place."

Eddie relented reluctantly and you pecked each other on the lips before he took his place in the band.

The next day you parked your rusty Mustang outside Eddie's trailer making a worrisome noise until you turned the ancient engine off.

You had just spent the past hour with Max shooting the breeze after delivering a batch of meals for her freezer.

When her Mum's roster fell on night shifts you provided a regular meal service so Max didn't eat from tins all week and feel crappy at school from all the chemical additives she ingested.

She rolled her eyes at the elaborate dishes your dad had portioned into tupperware but she was yet to complain about how they tasted.

Eddie heard you pull up and opened the trailer door for you.

"Where's your oven? This sucker needs to heat for ninety minutes," you said holding up a casserole dish with both hands.

"You brought your dinner?" Eddie asked as you passed him.

"Our dinner," you corrected and turned around trying to find the oven in the submarine sized kitchen. "Dad always cooks my student and I a meal when I do afterhours tutoring. I hope you like cassoulet."

Eddie lived on a steady diet of ham sandwiches and tinned spaghetti so he honestly couldn't say if he liked cassoulet or not. You weren't listening for an answer anyway as you were trying to open the oven door with your elbow.

"Guess your old man likes to cook," Eddie remarked as you slipped the dish in and set the temperature.

"He earned two Michelin stars before he gave it up," you answered then looked at him expectantly. "Where are we doing it? The bedroom? Or is the couch better?"

"Sorry?"

"Study," you clarified. "Do you have a desk in your room?"

"Oh right. No. Not the bedroom. I made room on the table."

You were oblivious to the blush rising on Eddie's cheeks as you returned to the living room and claimed a seat. The table was covered by towers of paraphernalia save for a corner Eddie had cleared for the session.

"I'll need a cup of tea and grab yourself some water," you called to Eddie who busied himself looking for a clean mug.

He gave one next to the kettle a suspicious sniff then ran it under some hot water hastily.

Sometimes the guys dropped by to rock out to metal tapes or watch a horror movie but Eddie had never entertained female company at home and it had him on edge.

'Hang on she's not your girlfriend,' he reminded himself as he opened all the jars in the pantry trying to locate a teabag.

That felt weird to think since he'd been making out with you publicly for weeks now. You'd seen him in his underwear and he'd had his hands all over your arse in the janitor's closet. Neither of you held back when you kissed either, your authenticity had earned you a few jeers about swapping mono.

Still, it was all a ruse to protect their business interests, no feelings to hurt.

Right?

The milk had gone bad and you declined sugar so you accepted your beverage as it was and opened a lunchbox of chopped fruit when Eddie sat with his water.

"Natural sugar for the brain," you explained as he looked baffled then you turned away from his smile.

There was something about that smile that made you giddy and invited you be playful.

It was probably the reason you never felt nervous kissing Eddie in front of a crowd. You knew he would never take advantage of you, there was a genuineness to him you trusted.

'Don't' your better judgement warned and you reverted to professionalism.

"Ok let's start with what's most urgent," you ordered. "What's due this week?"

Eddie handed you some crumpled sheets of paper which you flattened against the tabletop smoothing out the creases. He then pulled a math book out of his bag and opened it to a marked page.

You looked over the questions and nodded after a second of processing.

"Write the answers you get on some paper while I go over this then we'll take a look together. See where you're running into trouble."

Eddie "Yes Mamed" and followed your instructions faithfully. You noticed he wasn't shooting quips today or teasing so you suspected he felt embarrassed.

The humbleness of the trailer didn't bother you, your Dad had rented some awful apartments over the years and your current house was hardly The Ritz.

Nor were you gloating over Eddie's aptitude level. You breezed through your classes because of how puzzles deconstructed and realigned in your brain which you knew was rare. Plenty of people had commented about your neurotypical cognition when you had triumphed in no win chess matches.

That didn't give you an ego though, being smart didn't make you superior. You had more failings than you could count - your sporting efforts were laughable, your temper was always running hot and your domestic duties were never going to make you a housewife.

Meanwhile Eddie was creative in ways you'd never be, plucking new riffs from the air and bringing them alive on his guitar. He could write a D&D campaign with the skill of a fantasy novelist and his physical humour was hilarious.

Also the little sketches he'd done in the margins of his essay were quite good.

'Stop thinking about Eddie,' your better judgement piped but again and you concentrated on covering Eddie's handwriting in red pen.

You worked for a solid ninety minutes and found that most of what Eddie did was correct, he just had things around the wrong way.

He made some astute points in his essay but there was no structure to the piece and math he understood, he was just working it out backwards.

You supposed that was why his music was so original, a linear mind rarely came up with anything extraordinary.

The phone rang breaking the silence and you were glad for the disruption. There was something about being in Eddie Munson's private space that had you thinking fond thoughts.

Distractingly fond thoughts.

"Let me grab that," Eddie said and got up.

"Go for it," you said and went to the kitchen to refill your tea. You could hear Eddie on the phone as you searched for a fresh teabag.

"This is he, yes, yes. Sorry what did you say? How much? From where? You're sure? As in five two zeros? Right, thanks, bye."

You headed back to the table but froze when you saw Eddie. He was frowning, something you'd never seen him do and his hands were on his hips.

"That was the bank telling me the cheque you deposited into my account cleared," he said slowly after clearing his throat.

"Oh good," you replied cautiously waiting for the guillotine blade to fall.

Your casualness snapped his thin restraint and Eddie threw his hands into the air in an angry fit.

"Where the hell did you get five hundred dollars?!" he bellowed.

You relaxed knowing there was no emergency and walked back to your seat. If Eddie was going to be dramatic you'd rather take it sitting down.

"It's your ten percent just like I promised," you explained calmly and pulled his essay rewrite closer to read.

"You won five hundred bucks playing chess?" Eddie was flummoxed and couldn't comprehend your coolness.

He wasn't sure what had him wound up more, the amount of money he now possessed or how unperturbed you were about parting with it.

His bank account had never been so far in credit or his lunchbox full of crumpled dollars. His only investments were the guitar hanging on his bedroom wall and the jacket on his back but now he was loaded because you'd made a handshake deal with him behind school.

"Oh, your math is worse than I thought," you said with worry. "When you want to know a total amount of a percentage you write down the-"

"I know how percentages work!" Eddie bellowed. "When you said ten percent last week I though it would be about forty bucks or a couple of chocolate bars!"

"That was your assumption," you replied with an indifferent shrug. His hysterics were starting to bore you.

"Do they really give out five grand at high school chess comps?"

Eddie had heard of people living off games but they were usually card shark cocaine addicts or Russians with Einstein intellects. If someone sponsored D&D he could make a million as Dungeon Master but unfortunately he'd picked a game under persecution by the Christian middle class.

"No I was at the Michigan State Tournament," you said slowly to keep him placated. "I did mention Detroit to you remember?"

That's right, you'd needed the ten bucks for a bus ticket to a chess competition. It then dawned on Eddie he was talking to a state champion and he had to sit down.

"Shit girl," he puffed as he dropped in his chair like he'd just finished a marathon. "I didn't know you were that good."

"I do ok."

"A bit more than ok!"

"Yeah but no one likes a wanker."

Eddie silently agreed with that summation and finished his water before slamming it on the table like a beer pint on a bar.

"I can't accept the money," he declared in a seldom used serious voice. "It's too much."

The writing paper you were reading slowly lowered and Eddie could see your dangerous eyes staring at him lethally. It reminded him of a cowboy's eyes glaring down a gun barrel in a High Noon duel.

There'd be no arguing with whatever you said next.

"Don't start that shit. The deal was ten percent and you got ten percent. Buy some new music equipment, plant more marijuana or blow it all on D&D I really don't care. It's your money Eddie."

It was pretty rare that Eddie didn't get his own way. His band and Hellfire Club heeded his commands like loyal underlings and most adults simply gave him what he wanted to make him go away or stop talking.

Wayne had raised him on a loose leash because Eddie had always respected him enough not to abuse that liberty.

Thinking of Wayne, he'd have to keep the money a secret as he was already suspicious of where the weed cash was coming from.

Eddie hated to admit it but you had him pinned like one of your chess pieces. You wouldn't take the money back and he couldn't tell anyone who might have the influence to overrule your decision.

Zugzwang.

The one chess expression he knew. No matter which move he made it would be a bad one so he had to make the least bad decision he could.

"All right Grandmaster," he resigned himself to defeat sulkily and flopped in his chair. "What will you do with the rest of it? College fund?"

"Why's it matter?"

"Just curious." Eddie was a little taken aback by your snappish answer. "It's pretty cool that you beat a couple hundred people in another state. Most chess players are old dudes but you kicked their arses in a cute skirt. You should be proud of yourself."

Proud.

You'd never been proud of your chess abilities as you'd been warned too many times about the folly of pride. It always cometh before the fall.

You loved chess, the strategy, the cunning, the limitations and the possibilities all in sixty-four squares. Every time you played you discovered something new about the game or your opponent.

You hated the pressure of needing to win prize money though. It was like Van Gough pouring his heart into a painting then having to sell it for a pittance to keep him from begging.

Nothing destroyed your passion faster than making it lucrative.

Eddie's eyes were still on you and you could see his concern. It made you regret arguing and admitted he deserved some honesty. In the short time you'd known him he hadn't lied to you once.

"Some of what you've heard about my Dad is true, he has mental health problems," you began and picked up your mug so your fingers wouldn't fidget. "Very severe bi-polar."

"That's..." Eddie's uncertain expression told you an explanation was needed.

"They used to call it manic depressive. It's when you can't control your emotions so you can shoot up to an amazing mood only to crash into depression without warning. So he can come across as a little intense or strange which unsettles people. Hence all the stories."

Eddie nodded but didn't interrupt because he could tell you were struggling and had heard about your Dad's oddities to follow the story.

He'd never seen you vulnerable and realised you must trust him to talk about this. The two of you had done a lot of kissing but hardly any talking.

"I had to stay in boarding school a long time because he was never well enough to be responsible. He'd do ok for a time with his therapy and medication only to crash out and wind up back in the psych ward. Then last year his social worker said he was steady enough for me to come home."

Eddie didn't interrupt so you continued.

"However no one is keen to employ a man who's spent half his adult life in mental hospitals and Dad can't cope with anything stressful."

"So the prize money-" Eddie began.

"It takes more than a disability cheque and my two side gigs to cover everything. Chess keeps Dad's meds stocked, the rent paid and the bills in the black."

"That's a lot."

"That's just family."

The oven suddenly dinged and you felt a rush of relief. Literally saved by the bell.

Eddie followed you into the kitchen and together you assembled dinner. Eddie usually ate straight from the tin or without cutlery so it took him a minute to find everything.

Sitting back at the table together Eddie felt a sensation of surrealism. He and Wayne usually crossed like ships in the night with Eddie's days at school and Wayne's night shifts so they only ate together on weekends.

Even then it was usually on the couch and only if neither of them had plans. So using the dining table for its intended purpose and eating French food was not something he had anticipated for the evening.

"I've been getting a lot of company around the Coke machine lately," you attempted dinner conversation and Eddie raised his eyebrows. "Cheerleaders and Party Girls asking just how many tattoos you have under that Hellfire shirt and if you have a penis piercing."

"What did you say?" Eddie asked with a half smile.

It was good to see you perking back up after that heavy confession.

"That my lips are sealed but what you did to me on the pool table at The Hideaway last week left me gasping," you said in a sultry voice and added a little gasp for dramatic effect.

Eddie laughed a little as he chewed his dinner. For someone who liked a game so clinical you had quite the sordid imagination.

"You gotta go easier on the risqué stories sweetheart," he said and scooped up another fork of food. "If you give me a Cassanova reputation I'll disappoint the frustrated housewives of Hawkins when I'm cleaning their pools next year."

"You wont be servicing housewives in your future," you assured him. "You'll be a million miles from Hawkins tearing it up on stage at a Swedish Death Metal festival knee deep in Nordic babes."

"You really think so?"

Eddie had never discussed his music ambitions with you but you'd seen his enthusiasm at band practice. You'd seen his frustration too, having to keep to the dull notes of patriotic school pep songs instead of making that guitar roar.

"You've got just as much chance as anybody but not if you stay in this town," you said rationally. "Get your diploma and board a bus to LA or New York where there's actually a music scene. People around here are still playing The Doobie Brothers and The Beatles on vinyl."

"True," Eddie agreed.

Moving out of Hawkins had long been the dream but he'd never had any idea how to go about it. Wayne had gotten stuck here and his father had become a criminal.

Starting fresh successfully required cash and education neither of which he'd had much of.

Until now.

Later when you'd finished dinner Eddie shelled out some tens for your time and you made sure to remember the casserole dish when gathering your things. Dad was very particular about his cookware.

Eddie walked you to your car and unlocked it so you could pile your bags and dirty dish into the passenger side.

"Thanks for tonight," Eddie said as you took the keys back. "I think this helped."

"That's ok," you said dismissively. "Let me know when you need another session and I'll make time."

"I mean for everything tonight. It was really great."

The outdoor light on the trailer didn't cast enough light to see Eddie's face but his tone lacked its usual amusement and sureness.

Like you, it wasn't easy for Eddie to show vulnerability.

Theatrics and showmanship were how Eddie protected himself just as you used stinging insults and wit. Right now you weren't sure how to answer as a factious remark would be a barb on Eddie's exposed nerves.

"I'm glad. I had a good time too," was the first honest thing that came to mind.

Eddie kissed you then. Not one of his exhibition kisses but a gentle one that lingered on your cheek for a second then flew away.

"Oh, um," you would have been less surprised if he'd shoved you aside and stolen the Mustang.

Luckily in the dark Eddie couldn't see you blush. You hadn't received a kiss so sweet and chaste since a chess club boy has kissed you when you were twelve.

"Goodnight Eddie," you blurted and jumped in the car. It spluttered into life and you stomped the clutch to throw the gearstick in reverse.

Eddie looked started in the headlights for a second then you swung the wheel around and shot out the trailer park well over the five mile limit and didn't slow until you saw the lights of town.

Eddie Munson had changed tactics on you and your pieces were exposed to attack.

It was time to put your defences back up.

[cainsnocreaturefeature]

[ MOD’S NOTE: posting these as is; images are to follow whenever I can get to them, because I have various jobs and other things to do. Thank you for your patience and understanding. ]

[ EDIT 5/22/2025: A correction has been made regarding a joke that was typed up in 2022. Thank you very much to the person who reached out to me regarding changing the joke, and I apologize for any discomfort. ]

=====

|| KIDD // THE PLAN OF ACTION ||

Gathering the others hadn’t been that hard, all things considered. They’d already sent Jerome and Ozzy down to Buggs’s room as the gathering place so that they could stay put in a single location already, while Nugget had been asked to assist Buggs in rinsing out Billy’s eyes with the water the first two had brought over. That had involved a lot of spluttering and flailing on Billy’s end, but it had worked well enough - Billy had stopped hallucinating Jerome as his father.

Kidd internally breathes a sigh of relief. There would be no more Billy-induced deaths today - and hopefully ever, if they got this right.

While Lily chatters with Billy about what had happened to him,  Nugget turns to look at Kidd. There is an indescribable look in his eyes as Kidd goes to meet his gaze. Nathaniel Goujon was not exactly that much taller than him, so it was easier to meet his gaze head on than if he’d been, say, Cindy - the shortest of them all. Nugget, whether he admitted to it or not, liked to use his size to intimidate others as necessary - but it never worked on Kidd.

“You know something.” It’s not a guess on Nugget’s part.

Kidd glances at Billy. The guy was currently bowing in apology to Lily and Buggs, main ‘hands’ or tentacles just curled around each other in a manner that implied guilt.

“That depends on what you mean,” Kidd replies carefully.

Nugget frowns. “You are not telling Nugget something important.”

“And I won’t until Alice, Ron, Madison, Penny and Felix are all back home.”

“You want to bring Felix back home too?” It’s Buggs who asks this question, having overheard the tail end of the conversation. He, Billy, and Lily all turn to face Nugget and Kidd as Deedee perches on his shoulder, preening. He frowns, an eyebrow raised.

Kidd sighs before nodding. “I’m not elaborating here, because everyone and their mother knows I’m going to have to repeat this over and over if I don’t tell this to everyone in one place, but yes. We’re bringing all of them back home.”

“He broke Nugget’s ribs,” Nugget points out bitterly. “And Carla’s.”

Lily scowls. “He forced Madison, Ron, Alice, and Billy back into their mutated forms. He literally dressed up as Penny - still weird, by the way - and knocked Ted out and then pretended to be Ted and then kidnapped Penny. And you want him back?”

“Lily,” Kidd massages his temples. “Not now.”

“Kidd, Billy nearly fucking killed us - it’s not your fault Billy, don’t worry - because that rat bastard was-”

“We are not discussing this ĥ̵̠͙̯̳͗̽̕͠͝é̶̥͉͒̒r̸̬͖̰̞̫̞͇̔̒͗̈́͗͝e̷̛͎͎͙̓͆̚͝, Lilith Kurosawa!” Kidd snarls, voice dripping with venom.

In response to his yell, the world seems to distort for a moment, to glitch, and the snarl lodges itself in Kidd’s throat and he chokes, eyes wide, as the very reality he’s in briefly stops making sense-

- until the brief glitch stops, and everything is back to normal... for the most part. It’s like it had never happened, and like he’d just finished shouting, because Lily is flinching as though it had just happened and Billy is hissing at him, wrapping his arms around his sister protectively. Nugget too seemed to be on edge at this response, and Buggs was wary judging on his body language.

What had happened?

Did none of them feel that?

No... Kidd thinks bitterly. They’d never felt the resets. This... sudden break in the universe wouldn’t be any different - even Nugget didn’t seem to have noticed the sudden shatter that had happened. He’d ponder on it later though.

Deedee cocks her head to the side curiously at him. “Here?”

With a sigh, Kidd inhales sharply, and exhales, before saying, “... sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that. You... you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. You’ve been a big help, Lily, I just... lost my cool.”

“No, it’s... okay,” Lily says, but he knows she’s still spooked. Lily was not that good at hiding her fear as she thought she was. Kidd knew that without a shadow of a doubt. “I was... I’m sorry too. You just woke up after being unconscious and here we are already burdening you with all this because we thought you knew the most out of anyone.”

“And I do know a lot more than everyone does on the subject, but I don’t know everything. That’s why we’re going to discuss all of this as a group. This is a group matter and those are our friends in trouble.” Kidd glances between all of them before adding, “You should all go to Buggs’s room. Wait- no. Nugget, you take Billy and Lily to Buggs’s room. Buggs, come with me.”

Buggs blinks, mildly surprised. “Why?”

“We’ll be fetching the others ourselves. And I need you to catch me up on the blog. Tell me anything and everything that’s happened while I was out.”

“Ah. Okay.”

-=-=-=-

“What are your feelings on it?”

“Hm?”

“My decision that we’re bringing Felix back with us.”

Buggs is quiet for a good while as they walk towards where they guess Cindy is lurking - either the kitchens or the library, looking for books on whatever she thought interesting at that current moment in time. Kidd’s almost about to repeat the question when the other answers, “Why are you asking me one on one? You told Lily we’d be discussing it as a whole.”

“Well, you’re interested in Cindy.” Buggs stiffens slightly at his bold declaration, but he doesn’t stop walking with him. “And Cindy does like you, but she also had a childish ‘thing’ for Felix when we were in kindergarten.”

Buggs scoffs. “She had a thing for most of the boys in kindergarten and you know it. She even eyed you.”

“Don’t remind me.” The pink flower was enshrined in his room back home, actually - trapped in glass for eternity. He’d had every single quest item frozen in glass and tucked away somewhere where he couldn’t look at them - a terrible reminder of the past, but a memento regardless.

Buggs sighs and scratches the underside of Deedee’s chin. “We were kids. So what if I may hold a candle for Cindy? She’s not interested in anyone right now, and I’m not doing anything to fuck with our friendship right now except be there for her. So I don’t have any strong opinions on Felix coming back, except for concern that it could be dangerous.”

“Alright.”

It’s silent as they pass down the corridor, before Buggs says, “Wait. We can pick up Monty and Carla first. This hallway is where their rooms are.”

“Which one?”

Kidd watches as Buggs looks around before pointing at a door. As he approaches, he picks up on the faint sound of people talking behind the door - which increases in volume when he gets closer. It sounded like...

“Cindy?” Buggs wonders as Kidd opens the door.

Cindy and Monty both freeze mid-argument as the door swings open. Carla, arms crossed, nods in acknowledgment at him. “Good to see you awake, Kidd. Sleep well?”

“Hardly,” Kidd snorts before turning to Cindy and Monty. “We’re all gathering in Buggs’s room. Whatever you three are doing right now, stop, and head over there right now.”

“I’m busy,” is Monty’s automatic response.

Cindy scowls darkly. “Busy trying to get yourself killed more like.”

“What the fuck is she talking about?” Buggs asks.

Carla groans, a hand massaging a temple as she shifts her weight to one side, cocking her hip and crossing her other arm under her chest. “The cat’s out of the bag, cariño. Stand down already like I’ve been telling you.”

“What’s out of the bag?!” Kidd exclaims in frustration. “Can somebody please just tell us what’s going on?!”

Cindy jabs a finger in Monty’s direction. It would’ve been hilarious considering how short Cindy was compared to Monty, but even with the height difference Cindy made up for it in pure firepower. “He’s been making plans to take down Penny’s mom alone and won’t listen to either of us. Maybe you can make him see sense, Kidd, because the boy genius is losing his braincells.”

“Monty, literally what the fuck.” Kidd whirls around to face the glaring Monty. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Are you for fucking real?”

Monty scowls at everyone in the room - well, everyone save for Buggs and Carla, that is. His fists clench by his sides as he bites out, “You don’t understand.”

“No, I really fucking don’t.” Kidd answers with the same amount of bite. “What makes you think you can just waltz in there and save all of them?”

“I’m going to fucking save my sister,” is all Monty growls. “No matter what it fucking takes.”

Cindy hisses through gritted teeth. “So you’re just going to leave the others to rot then. I thought they were your friends.”

“The fuck do you take me for, Hausmannin?!”

“An idiot! You’re going to get fucking killed and where’s that going to leave your moms, huh?! You gonna join Daddy Montgomery up in the sky already, smartass?!”

“DON’T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY FATHER THAT WAY!”

“ENOUGH!”

Cindy and Monty fall silent as Carla steps in between both of them and shoves them apart, shooting looks at both of them before facing Cindy first. “Cindy, you took it too far, hija. Monty, querido, just stop for a minute. I’ve been telling you this for days. Just stop. You haven’t slept in days doing what you’re doing. A break will not kill you or Penny.”

“What has he been doing?” Buggs asks.

Carla shoots him a dry look. “He’s been developing a stronger laser from the remnants of the eye lasers he took out of Penny years ago that’ll be able to zero in on Penny’s location and evaporate Felix in one hit.”

“You know what?” Kidd snaps his fingers, and Buggs takes it to mean ‘manhandle Monty’. The larger young man immediately goes to pick Monty up by the waist and throw him over the shoulder effortlessly, prompting the genius to shriek in protest.

“PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN and LET ME WORK!”

“Carla?” Buggs looks at Carla with a raised eyebrow.

Carla sighs and grabs Monty’s face by the cheeks. The sudden contact makes him freeze as she says, “Querido, please don’t make it so difficult for everyone. We’re going to get Penny back, but we also need to make plans with everyone else, not just us. You and I both know we can’t do this alone.”

“Yes we can.”

Carla raises an eyebrow. “Idiot. No we can’t. You may have lasered that old bozo’s knees and fixed Penny up and built yourself some fucking legs, but this is Felix Huxley. Well. Felix, but a robot. You saw how he took down all of us on his own. We’re going to need to work with everyone else and you know it.”

“Fuck you.”

“For every person you tell that to, my explosives rise in market value, my love.” Buggs tries not to choke at that, but Carla maintains a straight face as she smooths out Monty’s hair. “Much as I enjoyed the thought of sauntering in there with just my favorite explosive tubes of lipstick to see us through, it’s a kamikaze mission even I’m not keen on participating in.”

Monty scowls, but Kidd can tell it’s a weaker one this time as Carla’s gaze softens. “We’re bringing Penny back home, Monty. I promised you we would, and you swore on your father that you would. But I’ll be completely transparent with you: I’d rather you thought this over after a full night of sleep.”

“I thought you were trying to wrestle me into a meeting with the others,” Monty grumbles. “Buggs, put me down.”

“Only if you follow us afterwards,” Buggs replies.

“No promises.”

“Then I’m not putting you down, tough guy.”

“I don’t need to wrestle you into going into the meeting, Buggs can do it for me,” Carla points out. “I’m trying to peacefully convince you into listening to what everyone else has to say on the matter before you go take a night of rest and look over your plans once again.”

“Uh huh.” Monty stares at her, unimpressed.

Carla meets his gaze levelly. “You do not want me to pull out the trump card, Montgomery.”

“And that would be...?”

Carla pulls out her phone with one smooth action and hits a number on speed dial. After a few minutes, Kidd witnesses Monty’s face grow five shades whiter at the voice that comes out of the phone. “Carla? You called? Are you alright, dear? Anything you need us to get you while you’re all there?”

“Hi, mamadonna,” Carla greets the more heavyset of Monty’s mother figures with an easygoing smile - except the smile is very clearly laced with smug victory, because Monty is writhing nervously in response to the conversation. “Just letting you know that I’m feeling a little better.”

“That’s good,” the woman sighs over the phone. “Don’t forget to phone your father today, alright? Honestly, he’s been worried sick over you - he could use the reassurance.”

Carla bites her lip guiltily. “Yeah, I’ll call papa later, I promise.”

“How about Monty? Is he getting any sleep?”

Everyone in the room stares at Monty. Monty wilts slightly under their stares as Carla answers, “He’s... trying.”

“Oh, my Monty... tell him to get some sleep for us, alright? He’s a lot like his father in that regard, honestly - always forgoing sleep for something or another. Let me guess, trying to figure out something that’ll save Penny?”

Carla blinks in surprise. “Um, well... yes, Mrs. Montgomery. How did you know?”

“I may have married his mother only after his father had passed on, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t practically raised him myself. He’s as predictable as his times tables.” Monty turns bright red at the comparison. “Monty, if you’re listening in on this conversation, sweetheart, please just listen to Carla and your friends. Let Mommadonna handle what she can with Penny’s kidnapping, okay? You’re no good without sleep.” There’s a crashing sound in the background, and the woman groans. “I have to go, Carla. Three of the Mabini siblings are here and I believe they just broke something.”

“Wait, Ron’s siblings are-” CLICK! BEEP...

Carla lowers the phone from her ear, frowning. “... Well? Are you coming, or not?”

“... I’m going,” Monty grumbles, and Buggs puts him down as he warns, “But I am not letting anyone else in on this. That includes you Kidd.”

Kidd rolls his eyes. He’d end up getting dragged in at some point - he knew that for a fact. “Keep telling yourself that, Monty Montgomery. Come on, everyone. We have some things to discuss.”

[niuttuc]

Weird Magic: the Gathering effects

Magic has a lot of cards and mechanics, so kinda wanted to try and see how well people both in and out of the community could fare at one of these. For fairness, I limited things to paper, tournament-legal cards, none of the joke sets or digital exclusive ones. Using current versions of each card's text, presented here as excerpts. Order for the poll was randomized. Reblog for a bigger sample size hopefully outside the magic community.

Edit: Now that the poll is over, let's put the solution under the cut!

The poll is over! This message will go through all the different options, talk about the purpose it serves and maybe add a bit of trivia about the card. This will be a long post, so I'll put most of it under a read more. Hope you enjoyed this poll, and there's definitely enough material for a second one at some point if people are interested!

But first, the correct answer(s)! Technically two of them aren't on tournament-legal cards, because one hasn't been released yet, but I included it because the text was funny and weird, and also to get an idea of how much of the sample were people that played magic but didn't follow things very closely. After all, the poll was aimed at non-magic players, for which it doesn't matter when the card releases.

If you would begin a turn, skip that turn instead. (19.3%)

This text as presented does not exist on any magic card, though Time Vault gets close. Some have pointed in the comments that it COULDN'T exist on a magic card because that would mean you never take a turn again, and that's not true. As with other examples in this list, other text around the one quoted could limit its application, or it could be a huge downside for a powerful effect. Epic exists as an ability that stops you casting spells altogether after all.

You control no suspected Skeleton. (17.6%)

This one was a double-whammy, not only is the card not released yet (people will start playing with it early February, this poll was made mid-January) and just revealed when the poll was made, the conditions for Cases like this one are written in a way that isn't really matched in most magic templating. And why would anyone suspect a skeleton?

Non-Human Werewolves you control... (3.7%)

While all the Werewolves in magic are humans that turn into wolves (at least the ones we know about) and principally from Innistrad, the ones from that plane have a quirk: When in Human form, they count as Human Werewolves, and on their Wolf side they just count as Werewolf. Immerwolf was a support card from the first Innistrad block that stopped your powerful Werewolves from flipping back to their weaker human form.

Coincidentally, this also means Immerwolf stops Werewolf partly mutated by eldritch horrors to finish their transformation, as a total coincidence because those wouldn't be released for another 4 years!

Roll a d12. (18%)

A popular option, even more than the skeleton! What kind of card game would ask you to randomly bring a d12? Well, this one does, at least if you're playing the specific card that requires it. For the longest time, dice-rolling in magic was confined to its joke, non-tournament-legal sets, but with the crossover Dungeons & Dragons set, dice-rolling was brought to the main game! With that said, the main sets of these that were meant for actual tournament play limited themselves to only using D20s, that magic players very commonly already brought to track their life totals (players start with 20 life.)

But in the supplemental sets associated with the D&D ones, that people would mostly play in more relaxed ambiences, designers experimented with the entire lineup of dice available. On top of D20s, we got cards with D4s, D6s, D8s and D12s in there!

You can't win the game and your opponents can't lose the game. (4%)

Be careful with demons! Years prior to this card, a card was printed that did the opposite, stopping your opponents from winning and you from losing, the idea being your opponent had to get rid of it to actually win the game. Then, in 2010, we got this one, using this text as a downside. In exchange, you got an overstatted demon that your opponent would HAVE TO deal with... Or stop you from dealing with it, if you don't have the means to get rid of this demon after you play it when you're ready to win, your opponent will get plenty of time to come back and kill you.

Cowards can't block Warriors. (4.7%)

A very famous line within the magic community, it actually appears on more than one card! Creatures in magic have "creature types" that are roughly separated into species and classes, but they all function the same as far as the rules are concerned. "Coward" is a type that no creatures had at the time of this card's original printing, but it made for a very flavorful statement of a rules text. It was beloved enough to come back on a couple cards since.

Put a card you own from outside the game into your hand. (4%)

This card was part of a cycle (one card of each color) of Wishes in its original set which all had a variation on this effect. Most colors' could only grab from a subset of cards, but the black one got to get anything at the cost of a hefty drawback. This effect has come back semi-regularly since, and is known in the game as a "Wish" effect. In tournament play, thankfully, it is limited to grabbing cards from the "sideboard" you bring to tweak your deck between rounds of a match, containing a maximum of fifteen cards, and not an entire multi-thousand card collection.

In the aforementioned D&D crossover set, it made for a very clean implementation of the Wish spell that spoke immediately to magic players... Though I've heard some D&D players found it lackluster for such an iconic spell.

Each player votes for death or taxes (5%)

Conspiracy sets were built on multiplayer and politics, and as such introduced a new voting mechanic that would let players around the table discuss the end result of you casting a spell. It was iterated upon in the second Conspiracy set, and then a few more times incidentally since. A lot of the voting cards have players choose between two options, so they were given names, but since the name don't really change anything gameplay-wise, designers had fun giving them some flavor. You can vote between death and taxes, between time and money, between wild and free.

Count the number of cards in your library. (9.1%)

Your library is your deck during the game in magic (which I intended to specify but forgot). Counting the cards in it is tedious and usually not something you have to do, but a few cards make you do it. This one is the only one to actually say that, and thankfully it's a bad card, pure lifegain usually isn't good in magic, but there's a couple spells that affect half of a person's library, and while they're not common sights, when they happen, it's counting time...

Chaos ensues. (7.8%)

Oh hey, one of those votes again! Chaos ensuing (and planeswalking) are tied to the Planechase variant of the game, that isn't played in tournaments, where the location you're in can change and affect the game during it. With that said, a few tournament-legal cards were printed last year (a cycle of these voting ones, and Missy from Doctor Who) that actually just make Chaos Ensue. Though that text doesn't do anything if you're not playing Planechase, the cards are still legal to play.

Cascade, Cascade, Cascade, Cascade (2.5%)

Most keywords in magic don't do anything special when repeated. Most. When they're an action like Cascade, you can just chain them together! A few cards were made over the years with double cascade, but to amp it up a notch, a few years back this card was made that is just huge and Cascades 4 times.

If it's neither day nor night... (4.2%)

The Midnight Hunt set introduced a Day/Night cycle to magic, that switches depending on players' actions, and it can be pretty annoying to keep track of. To avoid polluting games that don't need it across formats with it, the Day/Night cycle starts inactive and only starts when it's introduced by a card, until then, players are in a limbo of neither day nor night that does nothing gameplay-wise. Most of the ways to introduce the cycle start during the day, but a couple notable cards can bring about the night directly, and by themselves.

[ohholydyke]

Hi! As an LGBTQ+ Christian, I'm genuinely really curious how you reconcile non-celibate homosexuality with Bible verses like Leviticus 18:22 and Romans 1:26-28? While I know alternative interpretations/translations are offered, taking into account context, I really struggle with why God would allow the more commonly accepted interpretations to be so widespread if they were wrong, so I'm super interested in your view on this (if you're okay to share?). <3

Of course! First of all let me start by acknowledging I am not a biblical scholar and am only human, so I encourage you to do your own research. Also, if any of my dating or analysis is factually wrong (like my manuscript analysis), I will be happy to address that if pointed out.

Allow me to take this step by step. This post ended up being super long so I’m going to break it up into three separate posts. Part I is Leviticus 18:22, part II will be on Romans 1:26-28 and part III will be on why I believe the widely held interpretations are so widespread if they are wrong, and why widespread theology and belief doesn’t necessarily mean correctness or truth. I’ll @ you and cross link these posts for access as I go.

Edit: Part II is now up

Part I: Leviticus 18:22

First off, external context:

The following text is from The New Catholic Bible: St Joseph Compact Size Edition (2019)

Modern critics agree that during the Babylonian Exile some priests (of the tribe of Levi) collected and made part of their final text the liturgical books that had taken shape in the course of time: a ritual for sacrifices, another for the investiture of priests, a set of norms for distinguishing clean from unclean; at some later point, they added the "Law of Holiness" (chs. 17-26). It is this body of material that makes up the Book of Leviticus. The various components are not all from the same period: some prescriptions date from the time of Moses and even earlier; in other instances the editors adapt ancient rites to their own present religious concerns. The Law of Holiness, which probably dates from the last years of the monarchy (end of the seventh century) reflects the viewpoints of the Jerusalem priesthood and stands in contrast to the viewpoints found in Deuteronomy, which was published during the same period.

All the laws systematized in Leviticus are regarded as expressing God's will. They impose on the chosen people a common religious behavior by which this people will show themselves to be the people of the Sinai covenant. The Lord has delivered his own from the land of Egypt and he now expects them to acknowledge his presence and render him the worship due to him.

Sacrifice, which takes numerous forms, is the essential act of worship. It signifies that the children of Israel hand over themselves and their possessions to him who is their supreme protector. It unites them to their God and, by winning his forgiveness, restores this union when sin has broken it. In short, through sacrifice God saves and sanctifies his people. Israel is a priestly people; the priests in their actions symbolize the worship of an entire people.

In addition to moral and liturgical precepts, Leviticus lists various, sometimes quite detailed regulations meant to decide which objects and things hinder a person from drawing near to what is sacred, even though no moral fault might be involved; it was thought that these objects had a baleful power. Like the neighboring peoples, the children of Israel had their prohibitions, but even through these taboos, which were standard in this ancient civilization, they came to know the holiness of God, which is so strongly asserted throughout this book and which came to pervade their entire existence.

Let’s do some close reading here. First of all, Leviticus as we have it was compiled and written during the Babylonian Exile, likely combining oral tradition, Jewish practice and written documents. This means that the text carries with it a long history of existing laws and reflection on customs and law/the priesthood. This isn’t to say that the text isn’t divinely inspired (a doctrine I personally affirm though you don’t have to), but because it was written through mortal men we can assume the limitations of humanity apply such as bias, cultural understanding (such as the way an American’s understanding of the date 9/11 is coded by the 2001 plane attacks as a modern day citizen), and imperfect dialectic and rhetoric skills. Once again, this doesn’t denigrate the text as much as just humbly acknowledge that as humans we are limited, and we must approach Scripture with that knowledge lest our arrogance overtake us into the sin of pride (which is similar to the issue a lot of Catholics take with Protestants defending strict sola scriptura). This means that we must approach the text with the understanding that Leviticus 18:22 was written after the law was given, traveling in the desert, the establishment of Israel as a kingdom and the Babylonian captivity and exile. That’s…a lot of time for potential interference between the law given by God and the text in our hands. It’s like playing a really long game of telephone: we’re probably really close, but there can be gaps and we should acknowledge that potential. So I can acknowledge that the verse was written by fallible men, with human limitations, quite some time and distance culturally and geographically from the original handing of the law at Sinai. Once again, this doesn’t denigrate Scripture and its worthiness, but is a necessary acknowledgement for humility and understanding within the text’s proper context.

Second of all, the above quote tells us that the laws are there to show that the Sinai people are different and set apart (more on this later). This gives us the motivation and intention of the text and the laws within them. Now, while we may certainly argue that the truths expressed in the law have worthiness in being continued (one of my favorite parts of Leviticus is the house code of Leviticus 14 which tells the priesthood how to deal with mold infections in a house and when it’s salvageable and when it needs to be destroyed/how to avoid getting sick from it with the means available to them in the desert and later on when they could actually build houses) it’s important to recognize that the law was given to the Jewish people in order to keep them alive in the desert and to separate them from Egypt and the Canaanites (Leviticus 18:3). Thus everything contained in the law is for one or both purposes, and should be evaluated in this way. The question becomes: what was the behavior being addressed in 18:22, and how did that keep them alive in the desert and/or separate them from the people around them? I’ll come back to this question later.

Notably, the point of being separated from people around them was twofold: the purpose was either to avoid being judged and looked down upon by other nations (by doing something they’d see as shameful or dishonorable) OR it was to set apart Jewish religion from other religious practices around (remember Leviticus is primarily aimed at priests and framed within a religious law (rather than secular) context). So 18:22 must be referring to behavior either condemned by other nations OR religious behavior normalized within other nations (a good comparison is the prohibitions of scarification and tattoos, as these were regularly performed by surrounding religious groups for ritual purposes. Notably, we no longer uphold such prohibitions as we are not Ancient Israel.)

As a quick side note the detail on describing houses of stone also emphasizes my above point about the text being written post Sinai and the desert exile (when they were more nomadic and largely in tent encampments).

Another aspect of note is when the quote above talks about “the various components are not all from the same period: some prescriptions date from the time of Moses and even earlier; in other instances the editors adapt ancient rites to their own present religious concerns.” This also affects our approach to the applicability of the text in our lives, and we must acknowledge that we don’t have the law dictated by God at Sinai (dated roughly 1313 BC), we have an inspired account by men written during the exile (dated roughly 425 BC to 328 BC). That’s a thousand year separation. Remember that game of telephone? So we have God’s dictated law, filtered through God’s inspired scripture a thousand years later by a divinely inspired yet still fallible and limited human being. And that’s just the original copy. The earliest manuscript of Leviticus we have, 4QExod-Lev of 4Q17, is a Dead Sea scroll that dates to 250 BC (so at least 78 years since the original), and that manuscript doesn’t even have 18:22. For that verse we have to go to 4Q23 which is dated sometime between 140 and 37 BC. So now we have our divinely dictated word of law being written by divinely inspired humans, then (since we only assert that the originals are divinely inspired, not copies or translations) being copied and translated into a not divinely inspired manuscript written approximately 1,173-1,276 years after the original law was dictated at Sinai, all by fallible humans. That’s a lot going on in our game of telephone before we even touch the question of translation, preservation, and the biblical canon.

That’s made even more complicated by the fact that 18:22 is part of the Law of Holiness, which “probably dates from the last years of the monarchy (end of the seventh century) [and] reflects the viewpoints of the Jerusalem priesthood [of the time] and stands in contrast to the viewpoints found in Deuteronomy, which was published during the same period.” Telephone game and human limitations.

Finally, for external context, we have the following part of the quote: “Leviticus lists various, sometimes quite detailed regulations meant to decide which objects and things hinder a person from drawing near to what is sacred, even though no moral fault might be involved; it was thought that these objects had a baleful power. Like the neighboring peoples, the children of Israel had their prohibitions, but even through these taboos, which were standard in this ancient civilization, they came to know the holiness of God” I want you to keep this in mind as we move into the next part of our verse analysis

Internal context:

Leviticus 18 is part of the Law of Holiness (or Holiness Code), which is unique for regarding all of Israel as holy (not just the priests or sacrifices) and mainly is the bit where God says that the Canaanites were doing certain practices and Israel needs to not do them. So we know 18:22 refers to something the Canaanites were doing, which satisfies the earlier question about the verse needing to help Israel survive in the desert and/or set them apart from other peoples. 18:3 specifies this by saying “you shall not do what is done in the land of Egypt where you lived, nor are you to do what is done in the land of Canaan where I am bringing you; you shall not walk in their statutes.”

Remember the earlier definition of “set apart”? Let’s come back to that. Option 1 is to avoid shame. Option 2 is to avoid religious practices to set Judaism apart. The word used in 18:22 is the infamous to’evah. Abomination. What does to’evah mean in its original context? Let’s look at other verses. In Genesis 43:32, it’s used to describe the way Egyptians believed it was a to’evah to eat bread with the Hebrews. In Genesis 46:34, it’s used to describe how Egyptians saw shepherds as to’evah. In Exodus 8:26, it talks about how the Egyptians saw certain Hebrew sacrifices as to’evah and that’s why Moses asked pharaoh to let them go out of Egypt to make sacrifices. In all these cases, option 1 (behavior detested by other nations) seems to be the best case. It’s notable that none of these things are morally bad in of themselves (the Bible itself discusses how shepherds, Egyptians and jews eating bread together, Jewish sacrifices are all fine) but instead are cultural taboos.

So let’s look at behaviors that were prohibited by surrounding nations:

First off the Hittites had laws against a father having intercourse with his son (I don’t know for sure if this means consensual or not because the term I came across is “violates” which could mean rape or it could mean defilement). It is accompanied by other anti incest laws similar to the rest of Leviticus 18. The scholar Harry Hoffner Jr notes that the Hittite law was because the partner was the man’s son, not because they were of the same sex. The following quote is by scholar Brian Gerig:

Table A, paragraph 20 deals with a physical act done, not just a rumor: “If a seignior [an Assyrian man] lay with his neighbor [another citizen], when they have prosecuted him (and) convicted him [the first citizen], they shall lie with him (and) turn him into a eunuch.”14 This describes a situation where a man has forced sex upon a local resident or business partner, who then has the option of bringing a charge against him. Noticeably, the perpetrator is punished while the victim is not; so the crime here is rape. Homosexuality itself is not condemned, nor looked upon as immoral or disordered. Anyone could visit a prostitute or lay with another male, as long as false rumors or forced sex were not involved with another Assyrian male. Still, both of these laws suggest that for a male to take the submissive woman’s role in same-sex intercourse was looked down upon as shameful and despised.

I’ll come back to the idea of a man in a submissive woman’s roles being looked down upon later. But for now, Brian Gerig continues on:

Pictorial and literary references in ancient Mesopotamia show acceptance of some forms of homosexuality, but wariness toward others. Anal intercourse was freely pictured in figurative art in the ancient cities of Uruk, Assur, Babylon, and Susa from the 3rd millennium B.C. on – and images show that it was practiced as part of religious ritual. Both Zimri-lin (king of Mari) and Hammurabi (king of Babylon) had male lovers, which the queen of Zimri-lin mentions matter-of-factly in a letter. The Almanac of Incantations contained prayers favoring on an equal basis the love of a man for a woman, of a woman for a man, and of a man for man.16 (Lesbian love is not mentioned, probably because of the low status of women in ancient times, when women were basically considered property, and adultery was considered a trespass against the husband’s property. A husband was free to fornicate, but a wife could be put to death for the same thing.17) The Summa alu, a manual used to predict the future, sought to do this in some cases on the basis of sexual acts, five of which are homosexual:

“If a man copulates with his equal from the rear, he becomes the leader among his peers and brothers.

If a man yearns to express his manhood while in prison and thus, like a male cult-prostitute, mating with men becomes his desire, he will experience evil.

If a man copulates with an assinnu [a male cult-prostitute], trouble will leave him

If a man copulates with a gerseqqu [a male courtier, or royal attendant], worry will possess him for a whole year but will then leave him.

If a man copulates with a house-born slave, a hard destiny will befall him.”18

The fact that different kinds of homoerotic pairing will occur is taken for granted. What mattered was the role and the status of a partner, especially the passive partner – and the anticipated ramifications in each case. To penetrate a male who was of equal status or a cult prostitute was thought to bring good fortune; but copulation with a royal attendant, a fellow prisoner, or a household slave was thought to probably spell trouble.19

Needless to say, none of these are about being queer as we understand that now. The closest one is the act of anal sex between men, used as a power and social dynamic: they are equals until anal penetration occurs, after which the penetrator is superior and a leader, and the nature of each case of homosexuality comes down to power dynamics and social class between men. This isn’t an act of a romantic and sexual relationship such as the gays have now. Notably, 18:22 reinforces this distinction by the addition “as one lies with a woman.” The prohibition isn’t against lying with another man, but against lying with him in a specific way. This separates 18:22 from the other verses in ch 18, in which incest is just flat out prohibited in all forms such as 18:7 (you shall not uncover the nakedness of your father or mother), onto 18:20. Similarly, 18:23 (beastiality) is a flat out prohibition rather than a specific font of an action. Only 18:22 stands out with the qualifier “as with a woman.” I would argue this is because of the above power and social dynamics of anal sex in the Ancient Near East. The woman was submissive and penetrated, for a man to receive anal penetration was for him to become a woman and thus degrade himself and be judged for it. That’s why Sodom and Gomorrah ought to be read as gang rape in an attempt to humiliate a foreigner (which is the interpretation that better aligns with Ezekiel 49-50: “Behold, this was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had arrogance, abundant food and careless ease, but she did not help the poor and needy. Thus they were haughty and committed abominations before Me. Therefore I removed them when I saw it.” [Emphasis added]).

This is further emphasized by the fact that Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome both had similar views of anal sex, in which the bottom participant was seen as holding the role of a woman and/or an inferior (and thus denigrated) while the top was accepted (and in some cases seen as asserting his manliness and power in having anal intercourse as the penetrator). More on Rome’s views later.

So to summarize: to’evah suggests practices that are cultural taboos rather than inherently immoral acts. This lends itself to an interpretation of “being set apart from Canaanites” as avoiding behavior that would shame Israel in the eyes of the nations around it. Historical evidence does not suggest that queer relationships were an issue. Instead, the judged behavior was either actions that aren’t queer relationships OR an act based around power dynamics and social class hierarchy and humiliation that led to the social shame of one of the participants as “less of a man” and as an inferior. Obviously, that last one is not the case for modern queer relationships, which are not about power and social class dynamics in that way AND our society does not look down upon men who practice anal sex the same way the Ancient Near East did because we no longer have the same views of men and women and their sexual and social roles (excluding of course modern homophobia which is fueled by verse interpretations and thus out of the question here).

But let’s say I lost you with my interpretation of to’evah as social taboo. Maybe 18:22 was a matter of Israel avoiding behavior that surrounding nations allowed or celebrated religiously or socially (option 2 of being set apart). Let’s examine it again from that lens then:

Brian Gerig and many other Near East religious and cultural scholars highlight laws and cultural norms around homosexuality as taking two main forms outside of the ones already addressed above: pedastry and temple prostitution/religious erotic practices.

Pedastry is, of course, pedophilia. I think we can all agree that pedophilia is evil and also NOT WHAT QUEER RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN TWO CONSENTING ADULTS IS.

As for temple prostitution (of which Canaanite cultures did have quite a few instances of men and women who engaged in sex with worshipers as an act of religious devotion) and religious erotic practices (in which priests and priestesses engaged in erotic and sexual activities as offerings or devotion to their gods and spirits), this aligns more with the idea of “being set apart” = “not doing religious practices of surrounding nations” (remember the scarification example?). Once again, this is situationally limited (we as Christians no longer prohibit tattoos because we don’t do them religiously and are not Jewish so as to be set apart like Ancient Israel) and more importantly IS ALSO NOT WHAT MODERN QUEER RELATIONSHIPS AND SEX ARE ABOUT. A gay couple isn’t having sex as an offering to an ancient Mesopotamian deity or as a temple act with worshipers and parishioners for religious reasons (most of the time at least, idk what everyone does with their time but we’re not talking about that here).

I have one final nail in the coffin for Leviticus 18:22, and that’s about exegesis and application:

Supersessionism is bad and antisemetic. We’re not replacing Jewish people in the covenant and in being set apart from other nations by YHWH. Thus, we are not under the same category of having to be set apart from Egypt and Canaan like the Ancient Israelites were. You could argue the Holiness Code does not apply to modern day people as a result.

Part 2: Romans 1:26-28 and Part 3: Why the commonly held interpretations are widely spread if they are wrong to come shortly.