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wonwayne · 1 year ago

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enha when you pass out on their shoulder ☁️

pairing : ot7 x gn!reader genre : pure fluff warnings : none! word count : 0.75k

a/n : because you’re irresponsible like that ;) no but in all seriousness ‘passing out’ here just refers to falling asleep, not the medical condition 👍

💭 heeseung

just loves the sensations of you

your warm breath, faint on his chest; your hair spreading across his sweater; your fingers subconsciously playing and tugging at the sleeve

does it melt him? yes, it melts him

it melts him so much that he can’t sit straight anymore, he has to surrender to gravity and cuddle with you

slightly surprised when you don’t stir; he’s like “oh they’re knocked out” and decides to bridal carry you to the bed so you can stay comfy for the night

tucks you in and everything, he is father™ material methinks

💭 jay

drapes his jacket/blanket over you so fast

and so effortlessly

gentility is second nature for this man he is a GENTLEMAN

could stay perfectly still forever if that meant good sleep for you

and does exactly that the entire night, literally falls asleep in that position he loves you that much

then wakes up the next morning and nags you incessantly

“you are going to massage my shoulder for the next full hour.” “why :(“ “because i sacrificed the imminent comfort of my bed to be your pillow for 9 hours.”

maybe he’s dramatic but he’s right !!

💭 jake

mm. would rather have you sitting in his lap but this will do.

does the thing where he shifts his body towards you a bit and plants a billion kisses on the top of your head

you better be dreaming of him

eventually gives up on offering his shoulder, just hugs you

talks to you even if you’re unresponsive, partly bc he’d be lonely otherwise

but mostly bc he thinks it’s the perfect time to confess (as if he doesn’t confess to you through all of your waking hours)

“y/n you are so so beautiful” “i would give up the world for you”

is it possible to blush in your sleep?? bc jake would make it happen

💭 sunghoon

is so so smug about it

like “yes. see how their head fits perfectly into the crook of my neck. (it’s not a question.) soulmates indeed.”

HEAD PATS

just strokes your hair softly and he’s so nonchalant about it

if you weren’t already dozing his pets are so soothing they leave you in a SLUMBER

might even whisper cheesy little things knowing that you won’t remember them

“my princess 🥰” “my snuggle bear 😁”

okay i’ll shut up

💭 sunoo

it starts with a side eye (when does it not)

somewhere between concern and shock, he’s all like “this is not typical y/n behavior this is not the y/n i know this is not my y/n why are they not alive hold up—”

does the two fingers under your nose thing to check if you’re breathing

you are, of course, and then he’s just like well 😶 clingy y/n era. guess i’ll have to get used to this.

makes a point to rest his head on yours “this will be a symbiotic relationship not a parasitic one”

if you end up waking up and for witty banter’s sake the first thing you say is “your head was heavy 😒”

oh you are setting yourself UP there

“baby your existence weighs down on me /lh”

💭 jungwon

insert surprised cat face

tends to be the one snuggling into you so this throws him off a little, but in the best possible way

makes it his temporary life goal not to move

nearly an hour in, his neck is begging to be cracked

he hadn’t even noticed how stiff he’d become, he was watching you so intently

he’s thinking about holding out as long as he can but then he’s like “you are not a child you can find yourself a bed to sleep on”

still wakes you up sooo carefully, and when he realizes you’re too groggy to move, he lets you snooze on his lap instead

the way you and only you can break his resolve UGH where is my jungwon fr

💭 niki

absolutely EXHAUSTS your phone storage with 127000 photos of you

none of them are flattering, trust me

“it’s like a polaroid love” um more like polaroid done dirty

drool starting to escape your lips? 🤨📸

cheek squishing into his shoulder and you look like a fish? 📸🤭

adores you through it all of course

i do think he’s less the type to whisper sweet nothings while you’re asleep, but only bc he’d rather see your flustered reaction and make fun of it

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starofthesea7 · 2 years ago

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König~ Bitte (please)

(König cums too fast - pure filth)

König is a grunting mess beneath you, cheeks flushed deep red, eyebrows furrowed in ardent need. Brawny, scarred fingers grip threadbare cotton sheets, white knuckled— green eyes glossy with tears as he gazes down at you with fervour, pleas spilling from bitten lips. He’s in full tactical gear, fresh from the field, completely covered from your gaze, save for his bare crotch on full display between the zipper of his undone canvas pants.

He’s inexperienced- you could tell, even though he’d never murmured a word on the subject- it is laced thoroughly throughout his needy actions, the way his hips buck at the smallest touch you give his pale, rippling thighs, or how his heavy cock jumps when you praise him with sweet words. And there’s something so electrifying, having this beast of a man, in a killer’s uniform, writhing beneath you- it all goes straight to your head.

He is colossal. Infused with motor oil, brine and secondary cigarette smoke and the dirtiness of it- of him, cracks open the inviting door to even filthier actions.

His head is pressed harshly against the cool cement wall, damp hair curling around his brow. His mouth hangs agape— a glint of canine flashes in the dim light. His exposed his cock is tall and waiting eagerly for you and he’s embarrassed- you can tell by his flushed cheeks- embarrassed at how hard he is when you’ve barely even touched him- his engorged cock flushed deep purply red— glistening with a bead of pre spend at the sensitive head. Fuck.

His voice is rough and strangled, an honest attempt to string coherent thoughts together, “—ah, bitte, please...” He trails off, unsure of what he want’s you to do, all he knows is that he wants you.

You hold his gaze, vehemently, as you remove threadbare cotton in a swift motion, to revealing your naked frame to his widening eyes, you’re in nothing but a black thong and his glassy gaze is glued to your chest, he’s unable to tear it away, all gentile manners falling to perverse automatic action, he’s once more a teenager exploring his first playboy, struggling to take it in. Hair cascades around peaked nipples, and you’re a vision. He lets out a ragged breath at the soft swell of your breasts, truly questioning whether this was real- whether this was just another of his wet dreams and he’d wake up alone and have to shamefully clean sticky cum off himself. “You are…” he trails off on a ragged cliff, as if no known, spoken word could describe you, and the thought makes your heart swell against your ribs.

There’s a push and pull in him, you can feel it. Part of him instinctively wants to take control, have you his way, throw your body over the desk and ravage you- you both know that physically he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you. But something in him keeps him sat, under your control. He’s dying to do as you say, to follow your lead. The king has surrendered, and you are his unexpected successor.

Your hips bulge as your legs spread wide to fit over his massive thighs. Sinewy muscle tenses under you and the sight of his cock just waiting there for you makes your stomach clench. He’s staring at your crotch, at the small patch of wet fabric and the way it clings to the outline of your puffy cunt. There’s something pornographic about the way he’s fully dressed in tactical gear, complete with steel toed boots and dirty canvas pants, and you mount him bare, save for a sopping thong. Your airy, sultry voice cuts through thick, sweaty air, “Has it been a long time, König?” You’re being a bit patronizing, frankly, but you can tell he likes it, or he wouldn’t be this hard- pre-spend oozing out of his swollen slit.

His eyes rise to yours, and his pupils are blown wide, his voice breathless, “Ja-fuck-yes Maus, been so long. Please, touch me.” Your soft hands find his lower belly and its taught and veiny, skin scorching, you trace his abs, over his whisper of a happy trail, and you feel his muscles tense beneath your fingers, littered with scars. Your softness melts into his roughness and you’re pulled into him as if he possesses his own gravitational force. You gather his pre-spend from his stomach on two fingers and he watches with bated breath as you raise them to your lips, you take them deep, and the poor man doesn’t know what to do with him self. He’s briny and bitter and you want to force the taste further down your throat. A pathetic sound leaves his mouth, and it makes your stomach flop.

You rise up slide your thong to the side, exposing your cunt and he’s eager to position himself for you. Ready to bend to your every need, all he wants to be is good for you. You feel your stomach clench in anticipation as you are struck again with how thick he is- the thought of him stretching you out makes you thrum with anticipation. You’re sopping, and he’s dribbling from the tip— cock sliding deliciously easy, against the seam of you, right up against the choking split. Your fingers find locks of his hair and you ground yourself in him, as he catches harshly on the edge of your hole, right against your clit and pleasure shoots through your body. You’re both so sleep and touch deprived and that just makes you all the more fervid. You’re embarrassed at how fucked out you must look, but his head is thrown back and he’s almost drooling and you can’t look more desperate than him.

You run his mushroom head over the split again, and he’s unable to contain himself, softly bucking his hips into you, and when he finally breaches your hole, spliting you wide for him you let out a sharp sound, fingers harshly grabbing fistfuls of his hair. He sobs, voice ripping through his hoarse throat, “Ah-ah! Maus, fuck you’re so hot inside so… small.” It’s really he that’s large but you don’t bother correcting him. You tighten your fingers, fisting his hair, surely hard enough to hurt, as you inch yourself lower onto him. His fingers find the fat of your ass and hes pulling your cheeks apart, marks sure to bloom purple and blue later. His hand finds the waistband of your thong and he’s pulling it, overstimulation forcing him to action, the feeling of it dragging against your clit makes you keel. You hear the fabric rip, and he’s murmuring a slew of apologies. “Ah- I’m sorry maus-” You kiss his cheek sloppily in forgiveness. Salty and warm- stubble brash against your lips.

You pull back and his eyes drop to your little cunt, swollen lips stretching out around him and he’s in awe that you can take him so well. He’s definitely bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, but you can tell he doesn’t understand the extent of his size, and now is not the time to boost his ego, so you bite your lip and when your skin finally meets the cold metal of his zipper and he’s fully inside you sit there for a beat to adjust. Hes pulsing deep inside you and you can fucking see the outline of the head of his cock protruding from your belly, just below your bellybutton.

And when you point it out to him with a sickly sweet voice, “See you, so deep inside me König?”

He grunts, “Fuck me,” having to tear his eyes away a second later to keep from orgasming right then and there.

You begin to softly bounce your body above him, you tell yourself it’s to go easy on him, but truly you don’t think you could do move more with how deep he goes. Cold metal of his zipper harshly grazes your soft skin. Your breasts bounce with every movement and he pulls you into him, groaning into your shoulder, and sharp canines nick your flesh. Your grip in his hair mirrors your clench around him, painfully tight.

You speed up, slapping of skin fills the room, your flesh bubbles between his iron fingers and he’s whimpering into your ear, before you feel him twitch inside you. His eyes go wide and he’s suddenly blurting out, “Im sorry, I’m so sorry-ah, fuck.” His hips are bucking up into you faster, you feel them stutter, and his mouth falls open to softly bite your shoulder. His cock twitches, mushroom head notching somewhere deep inside you— and you can feel it in your stomach. He shudders all over, his huge form shaking with the strength of his orgasm, and then he blushes deep crimson. “I’m- A-ah,” Cum spurts out fitfully, and you feel it, hot and thick, filling your guts, and you can’t help but whimper into his hair at the feeling.

Warm pressure blooms in your belly. His deep raspy breaths grate against cold stillness.

Tears are brimming in his glassy eyes when he raises his head, damp curls falling across his forehead. Your cunt clenches at the sight and you redden at the obscene squelch it makes. He swallows hoarsely, “I’m so sorry. I wanted to…I couldn’t— you just felt so good—”

Another open mouthed kiss to his cheek makes him let out a soft puff of captive air.

“‘S okay König.” Your eyes sparkle, voice soft. “I can sit on your face, and you can make me cum then, yeah?” You smile coyly, as his eyes widen, cheeks flushing once more.

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theancientfootsteps · 27 days ago

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someone on Discord brought up Romans 1:26-27 and activated my autistic avatar state and I ended up writing a little essay that's basically a summary of the argument Daniel A. Helminiak makes that Romans 1:26-27 is not a condemnation of homosexuality or homosexual acts in his book What the Bible Really Says About Homosexuality

and I thought I'd share it here in case someone else is interested

it basically covers 3 main points:

1. what does Paul mean by things being natural or unnatural? 2. the distinction between impurity/uncleanness, and evil/sin. 3. the purpose and rhetorical structure of Paul's letter to the Romans.

keep in mind I am by no means an expert, this is just my summary of Helminiak's argument, which I happen to find very convincing. there's a lot of details and corroborating evidence left out here, if you want the full thing, I can recommend the book! I enjoyed reading it, and it also has interesting things to say about other 'clobber passages'

essay under the cut!

1. Unnatural, or contrary to nature?

So first, what does Paul mean when he calls things natural or unnatural? When we read these words nowadays, there is usually a strong moral value attached to them. When people call things 'unnatural', it means they violate some important law of nature, they are abhorrent and wrong and bad. There is, however, a lot of evidence that this is NOT how Paul uses the term (the Greek here being "para physin"). This is a term he uses many times in multiple letters, simply to mean that someone is doing something beyond what one would usually expect. It clearly has no inherent moral value to him, because he even says there are things God does that are "para physin"! So instead of 'unnatural and abhorrent and bad', we should read it more like: "contrary to her nature, Judy was super chipper this morning! she usually isn't a morning person", or "James is always so kind, but contrary to his nature, this morning he just snapped at me". In this case, by calling these acts "para physin", he is probably saying that these people are doing things that are against social norms and expectations, and/or that they are doing things that don't fit with their usual behavior.

2. Uncleanness vs sin

Second, we have the distinction between things being ritually unclean, and things being evil/sinful. Helminiak goes deep into the intricacies of Jewish law to support this point, but I'll just jump straight to the conclusion, and recommend that you read his book if you feel it needs more justification. Basically, the core is as follows:

- There are things that are considered evil, sinful, bad, morally wrong, for example murder, selfishness, exploitation of others, etc. - There are also things that are considered unclean, but not morally wrong. This is a lot of what is described in Leviticus, for example, and Helminiak uses this same distinction to clear up the infamous clobber passage from Leviticus about men lying with men. Now, these purity laws in the Pentateuch are not unimportant - when they were made, they were extremely important to the Jewish people to set them apart from others. These are the 'holy' laws after all, in the original Hebrew sense of the word meaning things that are different, set apart. They were extremely important for the formation and protection of the Jewish identity. - In many places in both Paul's writings and others' writings in the New Testament, it is made clear that this second set of laws, I'll call them purity laws, do not need to apply to gentile converts. Essentially, they are still highly respected as Jewish law, but they are not carried over to any non-Jewish people who follow Jesus because, once again, these are about the Jewish people and the Jewish identity.

This gives us a distinction between impurity (relevant specifically to Jewish people), and sin/evil (relevant to everyone). According to Helminiak, this distinction was also already accepted by Jewish people at the time, to be clear, so this is not something imposed in hindsight.

Paul uses this distinction in Romans 1. Verses 21-32 have the following structure: 21-25: These people worship idols instead of God! There are consequences to this.

26-27: They do things that are ritually impure/unclean, and also are socially unacceptable and frowned upon. They suffer public shame as a consequence.

28-31: Additionally, they do things that are evil/sinful, and for that, they deserve death.

So the stuff Paul says about homosexual acts, is separate from the things he condemns that are evil and sinful. There is no clear moral judgment about the homosexual acts here.

This leaves us with a question: if Romans 1:26-27 is referring to laws that are only relevant for Jewish people, and Paul is talking about non-Jewish people, why does he even bring them up??? To answer this, we have to proceed to our third major point.

3. The rhetorical structure of Paul's letter to the Romans

We have to consider in what situation Paul is writing this letter, and for what purpose. He is writing it to a congregation that is a mix of Jewish people and non-Jewish converts, and there is animosity between them. This was very common, and one of the major points of contention between these two groups of people was usually precisely the thing we just talked about: cleanness and uncleanness. For example, there was a lot of conflict around food, with the gentiles eating food considered unclean by the Jewish people, and the Jewish people being upset by that.

Paul's goal is to help them reconcile. But, Paul being Paul, he doesn't do this by saying "I wish I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy." No, he does this by saying "why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?"

When we look at the rhetorical structure of the letter, we see that Paul does the following things: - Sympathize with the Jewish people to get them on his side. Because aren't these gentiles just gross and awful? - UNO REVERSE! Actually you, Jewish people, you also do things that you consider unclean, and things that you consider sinful! So stop judging - Sympathize with the gentiles to get them on his side. Because aren't these Jewish people so annoying? - UNO REVERSE! Shut up, you're no better than anyone else!

So by bringing up these unclean/impure things in 1:26-27, Paul is sympathizing with the Jewish people in the congregation to get them on his side, to get them listening to him, only so he can turn it around later.

It's like if I were trying to convince a loud conservative of something, I might do so by first sympathizing with them to get them on my side, so that then I can flip things. I could say: "Ah yes and these liberal snowflakes are so dramatic, aren't they? They are always overreacting to things, they make such a big deal out of tiny little things like which exact words you use. Right? Don't you think so? But look, see! You are no better! You also overreact and can be dramatic! Because you act like it's a huge burden to use the right pronouns for someone, like your rights are being taken away from you just because someone wants you to use they/them pronouns!"

So, now that we have examined all of this, I think it's safe to say: taken in context, these verses really aren't what they seem to be in isolation. And they are most likely not a condemnation of homosexuality or homosexual acts.

#my posts #queer christian #queer christianity #gay christian #progressive christian #progressive christianity #saint paul #st paul #pauline epistles #daniel a. helminiak

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copperbadge · 22 days ago

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Sam has anyone told you that you’re already Jewish? Jewish is a mindset

Ah, hm, no, I can't agree with either half of the sentiment, I'm afraid, as kindly as it is meant.

There are many ways to be Jewish and the diversity with which Jews relate to their faith is one of the appeals for me, but I believe that if you wish to convert you have to put in the work of conversion. The way I've heard it put that I like best is "There are a lot of ways to be Jewish once you're Jewish, but you don't get to dictate how to become Jewish." (Within reason of course; there are several ways to convert, but all require the supervision of a Rabbi and a long process of study and preparation.)

I'm learning about the food and the prayers, the cultural touchstones, the holidays, the history, but I haven't done the formal work. There are massive gaps in my knowledge, even after several years. A Jewish friend of mine said to me once, "You know, I think it probably takes a convert a good ten years to truly acclimate to Judaism" and I kind of agree with her. Once you convert you are A Jew, and Rabbinic law says you should be treated as a Jew and the fact that you are a convert not brought up (for good reason), but a gentile simply cannot absorb the weight of history and faith all at once or process it meaningfully. It takes time. I haven't even been studying for a full Daf Yomi cycle yet.

There are Jews in my brickspace life who refer to me as Jewish, and I don't correct them because we both understand what that means -- that they see me as a member of the Tribe who is running to catch up, and are willing to help me on that journey. I'm grateful for that. I try to live as Jewish a life as I can (as I see Judaism for me) in preparation for conversion. But I would never declare myself Jewish without an official conversion supervised by a Rabbi.

There are also people who have told me I will never be a "real" Jew, or who have tried to pressure me by making my conversion conditional upon certain behaviors, and I don't correct them either because maybe I won't, I simply don't know yet. Occasionally I'll think, hey, if I have to do X or Y to be Jewish, I might not be able to handle that. But that's why the road is long and I'm comfortable walking very slowly along it. Judaism's been around for thousands of years; it'll be there when I get there. I think right now it is as important as it's ever been to speak openly about my desire to convert and my respect for the conversion process.

But no, as validating as your ask felt to me, I'm not Jewish yet. :) Perhaps if I'm lucky, someday.

#studying for conversion

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rotzaprachim · 10 months ago

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well meaning gentiles who want to talk about the golden past where everyone lived in peace (meaning people didn’t actively kill Jews) until them big bad Zionists got into this stuff for no reason. Are just like. My pet peeve. Like the refusal to reckon with the fact that if even a few countries had let Jews remain in their countries as Jews with full Jewish communities and lives we wouldn’t be in this situation.

#It’s jsut this thing everyone wants to believe and I have to keep correcting people #Because suddenly the situation is more difficult

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koishiro · 1 year ago

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# - 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 📍

masterlist | jjk masterlist | upcoming anon asks

"Come on baby isn't this what you wanted? My big cock stuffing your tight little pussy full?"

His teasing words as torturous as his cock, making you want more, making you become a needy slut desperate to be fucked and used until you couldn't think anymore.

"Please Geto, please fuck me, I'll do anything. My pussy needs you so bad!"

You whined and begged for any movement while one of his hands ran over your body and the other he kept over your hip, locking you in place, unable to squirm and move on his dick that was deep inside your pussy.

"I know baby, I feel it. Feel you clenching my cock, trying to grind your hips into me huh? Fuck I love seeing how desperate you still get for me, such a good girl f’me"

Your whimper was so soft at hearing his praise, head tilted back to rest on his shoulder and moan when he reached up to pinch your nipples causing you to shove your ass as hard as you could into his hips, needing his dick to be as deep inside you as possible.

"That's it baby, take my dick. You think you can still take it all? You're such a fucking whore for my cock aren't you?"

"Yes!" You shouted.

He shifted your legs, putting them both on the outside of his own causing them to spread as he widened his stance. You could feel the cold air hit your wet pussy, your clit so sensitive you cried out at the sensation of being so exposed.

Once more he set to running his hands over your body. Gripping your tits, grazing over your thighs so slowly as they traveled up almost touching your pussy before he passed by and had his hand over your abdomen.

"I'm right here baby. You feel me? This is where my cock is inside you. So deep and you love it." His hand pressed down as if he was trying to feel his cock from the outside. The two sensations, feeling him touch you inside and out was too much, you felt so close to cumming, so close to being shoved over the edge that your brain was drunk on the feeling. Your mouth open as you gasped for breath and whimpered when he kissed your neck.

"You've been such a good girl baby, so perfect f’me. Feels so good to be back in your wet pussy. Having you grip my cock is the best feeling. I'll keep you just like this the entire day baby. You gonna be a good girl and keep my cock warm? You gonna welcome me home the right way?" He asked.

"Yes! Please let me be a good slut for you. I need to be a good whore for you. I want to keep your cock wet with my tight little pussy! Oh my god!! Mh please!!!"

You were spiraling, needing to serve him, needing to please him and give him everything he wanted if it meant you could feel this good. Your pussy was in heaven. Your body burning and with every caress he gave there was desire for more. It felt like fire as his hands skimmed over you, you needed it to continue, for his sweet torture to not stop until you couldn't breathe.

Your pussy felt so full, so stretched and perfect, you started to cry. So overwhelming that you couldn't help but cry out when you suddenly felt his finger slide down over your clit. You couldn't stop screaming even if he didn't move his finger, just placing it on your clit, that was so sensitive and needy.

"Come on baby, cum for me. Let me feel you cum on my cock" He was being so gentile and firm, ordering you to cum and you were helpless to do anything else.

"Give it to me baby, cum all over my cock!"

You screamed out your release, grinding your hips into him and squirming on his cock as you came so hard. Your pussy squeezing his dick so tight you could hear him groan as he praised you for being such a good girl for him.

“Mm I missed your warmth s’bad baby”

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auspicioustidings · 1 year ago

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Sacrosanct

Summary: Following on from the events of Savage, Simon steals you back.

Words: 3.5k

CW: Smut, Non-con

Please go back and read the blurb from Savage. The same rules apply here, this is a rape fantasy. If that is not your thing do not read it.

It had been a month since you had been taken over the border and you were still sore in places. MacTavish… Johnny. Johnny had been gentle with you as soon as you crossed into his homeland. It was like he was a different person, the Savage gone and replaced by some romantic hero.

He had bedded you again, but it was with none of the primal brutality he had taken you with that first night. No, he remained true to his word and treated you like a princess. You were fucked slowly and tenderly into furs and downy pillows. He lapped sweetly between your legs while one of his men smiled and fed you bites of food. You recognised him as one from that night, the one whose hand print was almost fully faded from your thigh, but like Johnny his men too were different now.

It was like you had fallen into a dream. Sometimes you thought perhaps you had crossed into the fae realm, that this was some form of magic. They dressed you in soft but simple fabric in the MacTavish clan colours and it took your breath away any time you thought on it. He was marking you as his, but not how you had expected. This was not how you would mark a conquest or a slave, this was how you would mark family, how you would mark wife.

It was dizzying, his kindness. He bathed you and massaged at your sore muscles. He laughed fondly when you smiled at the puppy he brought into your room. He whispered to you in the middle of the night about names for babies with his finger tracing patterns on your belly.

You began to think of him as a different man entirely to the one from that night. There was the Savage and then there was just Johnny. And that was terrifying in its own way, because how could you ever know if the former would come back?

But still, some part of you started to slip into contentment. The horror of what had happened was smothered with sweetness and gentility until it faded away. You didn't think about escaping as you had the first week. There was never any attempt of course, you were not stupid enough to think you could manage it, but you had often daydreamed about it.

It must have been some sort of divine wrath for your sins that it was only when you had settled into some form of comfortable that someone far scarier than the Savage came for you in the dead of night while Johnny was away.

You woke to a weight on top of you, at first thinking it must be Johnny straddling you in the bed. But when you opened your eyes there was a bright white skull glaring down at you in the gloom. You wanted to scream, but you were scared stiff and even if you had been able to produce a sound his gloved hand had roughly settled over your mouth.

“Hello sweetheart, don't you look cosy in MacTavish's bed.”

Your eyes widened. English, he was English. And while the words were non-threatening, his tone was violent. You felt like your blood had turned to ice under this creature. He snarled at you and got into your face, eyes wild and angry.

“You scream and I'll rip you open, understand?”

You could only nod through the tears and then remain quiet when his hand left your mouth. Even without the warning you didn’t think you would have been able to scream through the fear. You knew with a horrible certainty that this man really would tear you apart if you crossed him.

“Go back to sleep bitch.”

You didn't even see the pommel of his danger coming as he clocked you in the temple and you blacked out.

–

Your head felt fuzzy when you came to, like your brain was waterlogged. It took a full minute before you properly got consciousness back, enough that you could feel that your wrists were bound around something above you making your shoulders ache. Someone had dressed you in a fine gown, the kind you would have expected to be wearing after your marriage to gatherings of nobility. There was a dim sort of throb somewhere in your lower half that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

You blinked in the dim light of the chamber you were in. A bedchamber. A regal one. There was a fireplace glowing with embers that was providing some light to see the furnishings. You hazily looked up to figure out where your arms were bound to find they were tired around the poster of a large, plush bed. Even the floor was soft beneath you, an ornate rug cushioning you.

It was all quite beautiful, like something out of your silly girl hood dreams. You tried to calm your heart, perhaps the rough treatment by the man with the skull mask was not indicative of whatever treatment you would face here. After all he had been English, had maybe taken you back across the border. Home you reminded yourself, even if something in you ached to think it. Even if some pathetic little part of you had started to think of Johnny as home even after what he did to you.

You caught movement from the corner of your eye and startled. The skull masked man was sitting in the corner, watching you. It knocked any coherent thought from your mind when he took off the mask and you came face to face with your fiance. He looked far more severe in real life than in his portrait. The artist had lessened the two large scars on his face, had made his eyes softer. When he stood it was staggering how large he was, already incredibly tall but from on the floor seeming monstrous. You quickly put your eyes to the floor, bowing your head with as much respect as you could.

“Lord Riley. I-” you said, trying to think of anything to explain the past month to him and coming up short when he crossed the room and drew his sword, putting the flat of the blade under your chin to force your head to tilt up.

“Did you know that the man you let fuck you flew the lion rampant when he was last slaughtering my men? A symbol of my country and he thinks to steal it.”

You could not move, could barely breathe without the sharp tip of the sword cutting your throat. You thought you might wind up drooling to avoid swallowing, knowing that it would almost certainly draw blood. You could only look at him as he spoke and looked down at you in disgust.

“Lionesses will try and protect their unborn cubs by letting themselves be mounted by any male in the vicinity to confuse paternity. Reckon if I let you loose you'd go through my soldiers like you went through those Scottish bastards wouldn't you? Let them all spill inside you.”

The tears were spilling down your cheeks as humiliation burned through you. He was wrong, Johnny's men hadn't spilled inside you, but the reality of what had happened seemed worse. They had spilled between your legs to make it more pleasant when their leader took you in the dirt. You wanted to defend yourself, to appeal to him, but he pressed the blade forward and your head met the bed with nowhere to go. The sting was horrible as you felt a trickle of blood run down the column of your throat.

“I'll not have a Scottish bastard running around my halls. My seed is more potent than his could ever hope to be, I'm going to flood his filthy cum out of you.”

You tried to bite out a plea when he moved the blade a hair back, enough that you could at least attempt to explain yourself if you spoke as softly as you could trying not to let your throat move.

“Please I didn’t- he- I tried to fight,” you said, fighting the sob that would cause more damage to your neck.

He smiled. He smiled and it was the smile of something terrifying, something that had caught you in its snare.

“You thanked him. He took what was mine and you thanked him for it, isn’t that right sweetheart?”

You felt a flood of fear. Johnny must have released at least one of the English soldiers who had seen what had been done to you. Had seen you drooling and throwing yourself back on to the enemies cock and crying thank yous to him. And had reported every single second of it back to the man above you, your intended husband. You had been caught fully in a lie, because you hadn’t fought, not really. Fear had you out of your mind at the time. It was half way to making you feel out of your mind now. He laughed darkly.

“Is that the expression you wore for him?”

You did sob then and it set off a chain reaction of the sharp of the blade nicking you which caused you to sob harder which did the same again. He looked fascinated with the blood dribbling down your skin, but his reactions were fast. When you got too overwhelmed and tried to look away, a movement that would have wound up slitting your own throat, he threw the blade to the side. The clatter of the metal made you flinch.

One if his hands was on you then, grabbing your upper arm in a bruising grip to drag you to your feet, the twist of your spine from your hands being bound to the bedpost painful. Once you were on your feet he moved the hand to your hair, pushing until you were hugging the post, face crushed against it in a way you were sure would leave indents of the intricate pattern on the woodwork.

His other hand went to bunching up your skirts, the coolness on bare skin making you realise with a sickening clarity that you had been put in a dress but with no undergarments.

“Fucking hell, not only Scottish animals you get wet for is it?” he hissed, as you felt his gloved fingers swipe through your folds.

He brought his hand around then to skirt up your throat and then shoved the gloves fingers in your mouth, leather and blood and arousal swirling in your tongue and making you choke with how aggressively they made a home between your teeth. You felt like an animal having their mouth examined with how he bullied his fingers around inside, seemingly trying to make sure you could taste yourself. He ripped them out and grabbed your face between his thumb and pointer finger, twisted it around to look at him behind you.

“Go ahead, kiss your fiancé like you'd kiss that fucking Savage you've been bedding.”

Oh he scared you well and truly now with how he looked at you. There was the glimmer of a Sacrosanct madness about him, the holy surety that he would claim you body and soul from John MacTavish. You trembled before this force of divine fury, trying to quell it by pushing yourself to kiss him.

For a moment in time he was the fiancé you had dreamt of. He let you press your lips to his and slowly lapped his tongue at your bottom lip for entrance, languid in his exploration once you permitted it. It struck you straight to your core when you realised he was licking the inside of your mouth to taste what he had forced there with his fingers, the clench of your cunt at the thought a humiliation. When his mouth left yours it was messy, saliva left on your swollen lips. He wrapped his hand around your throat, spreading the blood and seeming fascinated by it before he took the now blood smeared hand and slapped you so hard your ears were ringing. You would have crumpled to the floor if he did not have a leg planted between yours to keep your forced upright.

“My Lord please, I-I-” you stuttered, not able to find any fight amongst the freeze when he manhandled you back around to be clinging to the bedpost, grabbing your hips and wrenching them back so you were bent over with him behind you.

“You'll get your proper treatment as my Lady after sweetheart, right now you need to learn your fucking place.”

Your skirts were fully flipped over your back, a rough palm keeping you bend fully at the waist so the fabric could drape and leave you exposed to him. You hated knowing he could see you were leaking between your legs, your body at odds with your mind. It was a sickly sweet sort of humiliating. You choked a shocked sob when with no ceremony his cock was out and shoved inside you.

“Too full, t-too fast. Please- unf- please take it out!” you screamed, feeling like he was in your stomach.

He only tsked, unmoved entirely by how you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to shift away, not able to with his hands holding you still.

“Don't know what I expected, of course your traitor little cunt wouldn't be tight enough anymore. What was it he said? If you didn't keep your eyes open…”

You were confused about what he meant until he brutally ripped out of you and the hard head of him was rubbing at your arse, catching on the puckered hole.

“Please please no I'll tear! My Lord, Lord Riley please I didn't mean it” you babbled, trying to claw into the bedpost to pull away but only being rewarded with such a sharp smack to your arse that you knew his handprint would be there for days.

“Y-you can't!” you screeched as he started to push inside you.

The press of him against your hole, the pop as his head finally pushed through the tight ring of muscle, it made your body try to fight against a danger it didn't know what to do with. You couldn't breathe, as if you were underwater and your brain would not allow you to gulp in a breath because it knew it would be lethal.

You could barely choke in any oxygen at all as he started moving your hips back and forward on him, rocking his hot, hard cock more and more into your arse each time. He would break you surely, he would rip you in half. You could only make choked noises as you were stuffed more and more full. He smacked your arse again at that.

“Quit your bitching whore or next time I won't even do you the courtesy of having my men prep you. Find your fucking manners, say thank you” he said, an arrogant dominance rolling off if him in waves as he gave one particularly cruel thrust that had you crying out a thank you to please him.

“Manners my Lady” he snarled, punctuating his point with another spank that landed directly where you were already tender.

“T-thank you my Lord.”

“There she is, was that so difficult?” he asked with a horrid sweetness, thrusting hard into you again. “Lost all of your grace with that animal, don't worry, I'll fuck it back into you.”

The next thrust he bottomed out with a groan, holding still for a few breaths. It gave you time to try and adjust but it was an impossible task. He was too big, you were too tight, the stretch was too impossible. You were vaguely thankful that the ache you had felt waking up must have been because someone had already been playing with your arse. There was some slide, it wasn't so dry that you were being torn apart but it felt like a close thing. He leaned over you, his huge torso draped over yours. You could feel his sweaty face plastered to yours, the heat of his breath. He only said one word before he straightened back up, an innocent little word. But it terrified you none the less.

“Breathe.”

It was the only warning you got before he pulled out and slammed fully back into you. You felt far more brutalised as he drilled into you slow but incredibly hard in this plush room with the warm glowing embers of a fire and in a beautiful gown than you had being fucked in the dirt in the cold darkness in only your torn chemise.

His pace was torture, not fast enough to keep the pain a consistent thing you could anticipate, not slow enough to allow your insides to adjust to his impossible size. Your brain went fuzzy with every hard and deep piston of his hips. That one word was something you clung to like a prayer. Breathe. He pulled out to the tip. Breathe. He slammed back in all the way to the root. Breathe. He held there and your muscles fluttered around him, seemingly confused as to whether this was an intrusion or welcomed now that his own slick and whatever they had prepared you with while you were knocked out was mixed and making the slide smoother, making each rough thrust squelch loudly. Breathe. The drag of him slowly pulling back out made your cunt clench so hard it was nauseating. Breathe.

You could never quite fully catch your breath, always just on the edge of feeling like you were suffocating. You suddenly wished he would at least talk to you. Johnny was never able to stop, always saying something filthy in your ear so you could at least focus on that and not hear your own desperate panting, the sticky snap of sweaty skin on sweaty skin. It was painful, a pain that dangled pleasure in front of you, always just out of reach. You were chasing it, pushing back in the hopes that the heavy weight of him would bump against your clit. It only ever served to add the sharp smack of hand on flesh to the noises.

He did not provide any warning before he sped up, suddenly rutting into you with none of the control he had kept until now. You forgot that word, forgot everything in favour of biting down on the wood of the bedpost to stop from screaming your throat raw.

And then you saw stars as his throbbing cock was pulled out of your arse and in your cunt finally instead, deep. He pushed your hips until you were standing straight, his cock spearing up into you deeper than you thought possible. He brought a hand round to play roughly with your clit.

“Milk me.”

There was no room for refusal as you came, bearing down on him hard. The scalding heat of his seed spilling into you felt like some twisted form of divine justice for what you had done, how you had begun to feel about the Savage. There was so much of it, a biblical flood to wipe away the stain he saw left in you. His chest was plastered to your back, his hot breath puffing over the side of your hair.

“Good girl. Knew a proper English lady was still in there didn't I? Just had to exorcise the whore MacTavish put inside you.”

Your head was so fuzzy. Your body throbbed with pain and the flush of a devastating orgasm. You whimpered pathetically when he eventually pulled out, fingering the leaking cum gently back into your oversensitive pussy.

“I'll get a plug for you, you'd like that hm? Keep my seed nice and safe inside your little cunt.”

You drifted then, drifted to somewhere else. You didn't know that you nodded, that you were pliant and soft for him as he undressed you fully and took you to a bath. It was all like there was a pleasantly weighted fog over your senses as he fed you, rubbed oils into you, dressed you for bed and climbed in behind you like a lover. Like Johnny.

“Sir, we've tried. It's like she wisnae ever here tae begin with. Nae trace of whoever took her. Whoever it is, they're a ghost.”

Johnny barked out a bitter, manic sort of laugh.

“A ghost aye? Fucking Riley.”

“Garrick and Price were spotted naw far frae the border just this morn, if it was him that took her then he's naw far.”

“Cannae imagine so, why take himself a pretty prize unless he intends tae dangle it in front of me.”

“Orders sir?”

“Get me information. Going tae take her back obviously. Fuck the Scottish back in tae her if she's lost her way.”

And this time he'd made sure it fucking stuck even if he had to carve his fucking name into your skin to prove who you belonged to.

#mhairiwrites #cod au #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #you asked for a sequel so you will in fact take it and thank me <3

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spacelazarwolf · 9 months ago

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hilarious but also terrifying how many gentiles are one (1) interaction with a jew who is sick of their bullshit away from going full on nazi.

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a-queer-seminarian · 9 months ago

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I made these charts to provide an easy reference guide for comparing the four Gospels! Feel free to share around wherever.

I think tumblr's crunching up these images so visit here for crisper versions (plus they're table format instead of png format).

Alt text version is under the readmore, necessarily formatted slightly differently but with all the same info.

TEXT ONLY / NON CHART VERSION:

Images show two charts, each credited to Avery Arden with a note that the material largely derives from the abridged version of Raymond E. Brown's An Introduction to the New Testament.

Chart 1: Comparing the Gospels, Part 1 – historical context

Mark

When:

Late 60s/early 70s

Who:

Jewish

Multi-lingual — peppers Aramaic into the Greek

Where:

Rome or Syria (clearly unfamiliar with Palestinian geography)

To whom:

Mainly to Gentiles new to Christianity who were experiencing persecution

Priorities:

Encourage audience and show them how their suffering fit into Jesus’ vision of the Kingdom of God

Matthew:

When:

Late 70s/80s

Who:

Jewish

Also multi-lingual, with Aramaic phrases;

Greek more polished than Mark’s

Where:

Probably in or near Antioch (in Syria); possibly Galilee

To Whom:

Mainly to well-educated Jews who were debating internally about how Jewish tradition fit into following Jesus

Priorities:

Promote Messiah Jesus who fulfills audience’s Jewish scriptures

inform church life and structure

Luke

When:

mid-to-late-80s

Who:

Gentile (possibly Jewish convert)

Educated Greek “historian” familiar with Septuagint; no use of Aramaic; expert use of Greek

Where:

Probably Greece; possibly Syria; also unfamiliar with Palestine

To whom:

Mainly to wealthy Gentiles influenced by Paul’s mission; living in an urban setting

Priorities:

Promote Isaiah-like Jesus; challenge audience to live out faith more actively (e.g., by redistributing wealth)

John

When:

90s / as late as 110

Who:

Jewish

Student(s) of “the Beloved Disciple” (the “Johannine school”)

Where:

Traditionally Ephesus; possibly Syria

To whom:

To a mixed crowd of Jews & Gentiles, at a time when tensions between Jews who did & didn’t follow Jesus had reached an all-time high

Priorities:

Promote Jesus’s divinity; strengthen unity in a group increasingly defining itself as separate from Jewish ones

Chart 2: Comparing the Gospels, Part 2 — Thematic Content

Mark

Emphasizes Jesus as:

Jesus as miracle-worker / healer; human being

Unafraid to depict human limitations & emotions in Jesus

Other defining attributes / content:

Focuses on Jesus’s actions, e.g., his miracles; as well as on his suffering and death

Originally ended with the empty tomb & fear; no resurrection relief

The disciples often fail to understand Jesus; Jesus is frequently secretive about his identity

Matthew

Emphasizes Jesus as:

A Moses figure, Messiah, Son of God; teacher

Removes descriptions that make Jesus seem limited, naïve

Other defining attributes / content:

Beatitudes (ch. 5); judgment of the “sheep and goats” (ch. 25);

Instructions for intracommunal relationships; forgiveness; “Great Commission” (ch. 28)

Polishes Mark’s depiction of the disciples to present them more favorably (esp. Peter as the “rock” of the church)

Luke

Emphasizes Jesus as:

Self-aware Son of God; prophet of the poor

Removes descriptions that make Jesus seem emotional, harsh, or weak

Other defining attributes / content:

Beatitudes (ch. 6) — with added “woes”; frequent warnings about risks of wealth

Also depicts disciples more favorably

Favorable depictions of tax collectors as sinners on the way to redemption;

negative views of Pharisees as rejectors of Jesus, juxtaposed with stories of Gentiles who express faith

John

Emphasizes Jesus as:

Divine, the Word / “I Am” made flesh; lamb of God

Often misunderstood by disciples & crowds due to his use of figurative language

Other defining attributes / content:

Poetic format, full of symbolism; similarities to Gnostic texts that arose in the same era

Lots of “testimony” and “signs”

Despite Jesus & his disciples being Jewish, John depicts “the Jews” as being against Jesus; his Jesus says things like “It is written in your law…”

#gospels #reading and studying the bible #bible study tools #log #summer 2024

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phyrestartr · 7 months ago

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Rhubarb | Zagreus x M!Reader (WIP!!)

#SFW, reader is a daimon, ik nymphs can't be male but let me have this!!!, reader tends to persephone's decayed garden, hurt/comfort, lots of fluff, COURTING!!!!!

“You wouldn't happen to be the one gifting me all these flowers, would you?” Zagreus asked.

You cleared your throat as you scrambled for an excuse, a reason, an explanation to give the godling–it didn't feel right to outwardly admit to it (Gods, that'd be embarrassing), and you couldn't find it in you to turn the prince away; if you did that, what would be the point of your bashful little gifts? You wanted to show support, you wanted to try and embolden him when few else would.

But still–

You tucked some hair behind your pointed ear and cleared your throat once more, never ripping your gaze away from the flowerbeds to look at your opponent. Nope. You wouldn't do it. You couldn't or you'd die on the spot (again).

“I beg pardon?” You asked, willing your earth magicks to replace that which had withered in the garden.

You swore you heard him smile. “Those flowers, the ones in my chambers? The ones that renew every night, or–or day, or what have you.” His cindered footsteps ventured closer to you. “Surely you must have some idea.”

“I'm afraid I don't, Prince,” you hummed, stepping away as he followed. “But I can keep an eye open, if you so wish.”

“Oh, come on. Do you really think you'll be punished for giving me a flower or two?” Zagreus asked.

“Everything can be punished in this house. Anything in regards to the runaway prince, even more so.” And that was true. You'd heard of Megaera and Thanatos being promptly admonished for their inability to stop Zagreus, or their blatant refusal to even try to stop him. Most didn't give Zagreus the time of day. What would you, a mere shade, say in your defense if the lord of the underworld found out about the simple fondness you felt for the prince?

Before you could linger on that dread for too long, a hand caught your wrist, stopping your further retreat. It wasn't painful, nor did it frighten you–but it was odd. So, so odd. You'd not felt the warmth of another for decades. It reminded you of a warm summer's day.

“Look, I–I just want to thank you,” Zagreus said, sounding far too flustered and honest. You couldn't help but turn to him and meet his mismatched gaze, finally.

“Thank me?” You said, dumbstruck. A little because of the brilliant emerald and ruby eyes staring down at you, a little because of his words.

The prince nodded. He didn't release your wrist. “Is that so unbelievable?” He asked with a smile.

“Not when it comes to you, no.” Your face heated, but you kept your composure calm and collected. “Well. You're, uh, free to speak. If you wish.”

“Thank you,” he said, not hesitating the slightest bit, “For taking the time to…well, think of me, I suppose. These days, it feels like everyone's against me, so the flowers, they--they're a welcome sight.”

His smile melted your faux frigid expression, and you let the slightest hint of gentility peek through. “I worried they'd be a nuisance.”

“A nuisance?” Zagreus balked. “No, no, anything but. It's what keeps me going most days, if I'm being honest.”

You raised your brows, despite a smile not following. “Well, that's depressing. To think few others are cheering you on brings a tear to the eye.”

The prince snorted. “Huh. Never knew gardeners could be the sarcastic type.”

“Seems you haven't met enough gardeners, then.” You clasped your hand over the one holding your wrist. “Truthfully, I don't understand the extent of your quest, but I've no doubt you'll succeed. I wish you to know that I've full faith in you.”

Zagreus’ energy surged tenfold. His smile nearly blinded you, he who had become so used to the dark, and his eyes gleamed like polished gems. Cerberus probably bore the same look when he was a pup, you figured. Did he play tug with the prince back in the day? Probably. Or fetch, perhaps.

“Really?” The prince asked, now holding both of your hands in his and squeezing. “You think so?”

You swallowed away your shock at being touched again and stared hard at the spot between the prince's eyes. “Well, yes--you're like rhubarb.”

He leaned toward you, leaning down and welcoming himself into your personal bubble. “I've not the slightest idea what you mean, but I'm eager to know.”

You almost smiled. Almost. But you wouldn't let him win, not that easily.

“Once you accomplish your goal, perhaps I'll tell you.”

#male reader insert #male reader #zagreus x reader #zag x reader #zagreus hades x reader #zagreus hades game x you #hades game reader insert #hades game x reader

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