#THEIR WORK?? THEIR STOLEN WORK THAT MAKES YOUR PRECIOUS GENERATORS POSSIBLE??

[writersmilex]

Sapphire Earrings

Larry "Peanut" Romano X Fem | Preppy | Reader

Summary: (Y/n) lost her very sentimental Sapphire earrings and a secret friend is willing to help her find them. ______________________________________

She just really, really wants to wear them. The prettiest earrings she has. And the best thing is, that it matches her Aquaberry uniform! And even the rest of her elegant jewellery. But, there is one thing, those beautiful Sapphire earrings are a family heirloom, once owned by all the women in the (L/n) family before her. If anything were to happen to these earrings, her mother would surely break her legs. She'll have to be extra careful then!

"Those Earrings look really cute, (Y/n)!" Pinky, (Y/n)'s best friend compliments the jewellery. (Y/n) beams at the compliment, "Thanks, It looks great!" She admires the blue gems in her small hand mirror. "They're family heirlooms." She brags a little, the gems match the Sapphire necklace that your mother got you for Christmas. "I should totally ask my daddy to get me Sapphires." Pinky comments, "Then we can match outfits." she explains, and (Y/n) smiles at her. That sounds like fun, but (Y/n) still has to be careful, if she loses these precious jewels she'll surely disappoint her mother, and even her grandmother. And all her ancestors!

After showing out their outfits for today, (Y/n) and Pinky make their way to the gymnasium to join the other girls in the locker room to get ready to change. "Nice Earrings, (Y/n)." Mandy compliments in an overly sugarcoated tone as she glances at the shimmering gems that (Y/n) takes out of her ears as gently as possible. It's time for cheerleading practice, and (Y/n) really shouldn't be wearing them while jumping around.

"Come on! (Y/n)!" Pinky shouts from outside the girls' locker room, "Coming!" (Y/n) calls back and rushes over to her best friend without closing her locker, leaving her clothes and trinkets out in the open. And those precious gems are out in the open as well... ~~~~ The best friends giggle among each other, gossiping about how the Jock was totally checking them out while practising. Upon entering the girls' locker room again, (Y/n) notice that her locker is open, that sight causes her to get slightly nervous, as any person would upon seeing that. "Oh no, I forgot to close my locker. Thanks for distracting me, Pinky!" (Y/n) is almost too quick to blame her best friend. "Don't blame me! You should look after your stuff!" Pinky shoots back snarkily. (Y/n) goes through her things to ensure that everything she owns is still here, and almost everything is there. Only one thing that is missing, the one thing that (Y/n) had feared would easily be stolen if they ever were in public. And when she doesn't find the objects she is looking for, her face turns pale. "Oh no, no no no! Oh my God, NO!" (Y/n) panics as she can't find the precious earrings. "What is it?" Pinky rushes over in a panic and worries for her friend. "The earrings, They're gone!" (Y/n) sinks to her knees dramatically, "No! My parents are going to kill me!" She is nearly in tears. Pinky tries to comfort (Y/n), rubbing her hand over her back. "Don't panic, (Y/n). We'll get them back," she says, although it doesn't seem to work much. ~~~~ (Y/n) has been stressed out ever since the gems when missing, her best friend has been beside her to try and console her this whole time. Sitting outside on a bench, (Y/n) has her elbow on her knees, her head in her hands. This is a disaster, now she surely won't have any access to her trust fund now! "I'm so done for..." She sulks and presses her face in her hands, hoping it could make her disappear from the world. Her parents and grandmother will have her head for losing those earrings that have been in the family for 6 generations. "We'll find them, (Y/n). Don't worry!"  Pinky is slightly losing hope herself, those precious gems, anyone could have taken them. "What's going on here?" A New voice joins in, causing both girls to look up in surprise. It's Peanut, standing there rather awkwardly with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He looks rather concerned, seeing (Y/n) so upset like that. "Move along, Greasball." Pinky hisses at the Greaser, keeping a protective arm around her best friend. "I just wanna know what happened." Peanut defends himself and shrugs. (Y/n) lets out a sad sigh, running a hand through her now messy hair that is usually styled. "oh, Peanut. It's a disaster!" she stands up, "I lost my Sapphire earring! It's horrible." And her face is in her hands again, muffing a frustrated groan. "You're upset about some earrings? Just get new ones- oh!" Peanut is cut off guard when (Y/n) grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and shakes him roughly. "You don't understand, Larry!" she pulls him close to her, face to face. "Those were real Sapphire earrings! They were family heirlooms, my great-grandmother looks down at me!" (Y/n) hisses right in his face, before pressing her face in his chest and sobbing. Peanut is left speechless at the rather pathetic display. Looking down at (Y/n) leaving stains on his shirt, he pats her head awkwardly. "ah, don't cry, (Y/n). I'll get your earrings back." he says to try and comfort her. (Y/n)'s head shot up from his shirt. Looking him in the eye, "Really!? You'll help look for them for me?" she asks, her eyes showing newfound hope. Peanut is not sure what he is getting himself into this time, but he nods anyway, he likes seeing his Preppy friend happy. "Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" (Y/n) then hugs Peanut around his shoulders and quickly lets go of him before Peanut could react. The two girls rush off, seemingly to look for (Y/n) jewellery. ~~~~

Jimmy is walking around the school looking for something to do. Somewhere in the grass, he finds The Greasers' second-in-command kneeling, presumably looking for something. "What are you doing?" Jimmy asks with amusement to see a Greaser searching through the grass like this. Peanut looks up and then stands up, dusting up his pants. "Uh... I'm looking for (Y/n)'s Sapphire Earrings," he explains, looking down and gesturing at the grass. "That Preppy girl?" Jimmy questions, Peanut confirms with a sharp nod. "why doesn't she just get new ones?" Jimmy wonders out loud with a nonchalant shrug. ''That's the thing, man." Peanut adds and walks up to Jimmy to talk to him. "Those earrings are like, heirlooms or something. And she said her parents will have her head if she loses them. And I'm gonna find them so she'll like me!" peanut confesses honestly. "Wow, A Greaser and a Preppy. Romantic..." Jimmy chuckles and is about to walk away, but not before the Greaser snatches him by the arm. "You gotta help me, man! Please!" Peanut almost begs. Who knew that looking for expensive jewellery would be so hard? "Alright, fine. I'll help..." Jimmy agrees reluctantly, causing Peanut to beam at him. "Awh, thanks, man! You're a real life-saver!" Then he turns back to his search. Jimmy walked away to start his own search for some jewellery from some rich girl. Sapphires weren't they? Jimmy started asking around for the earrings, mostly the girls. And the best lead so far is the one he got from Christy Martin. "I saw Mandy snatch them, when (Y/n) accidentally left her locker open. Why should she steal such sentimental stuff like that? It's just wrong!" She said to him. Jimmy already had a pretty good idea of what happened to the jewellery, Mandy took them. And now he has to take them back from her to give to Peanut, so Peanut can give them (Y/n) and woo her or something. Jimmy found those earrings in Mandy's locker in the main building, damn thief... After Stealing the Earrings back, Jimmy returns to Peanut. "I got your Earrings!" Jimmy announces himself loudly and throws the jewellery in the Greaser's direction. Peanut could catch the Sapphires just in time, scrambling to get a good grasp of them. They are indeed Sapphire earrings, decorated with pearls and smaller diamonds, they feel old and fragile, Jimmy really shouldn't have thrown them. "Thanks for helping me man, Here is a little something for ya." Peanut pressed 50 dollars in Jimmy's palm, and he is to make sure to spread the good word about him to the other Greasers. Right now he needs to return the earrings to (Y/n), he is sure that she'll be over the moon once she sees her precious gems again. ~~~~ (Y/n) simply cannot calm down, walking back and forth in front of the Harrington house and biting her usual manicured nails until she nearly has no nails anymore. She'll have to get new nail polish later. Peanut got a sharp glare from Bif as he approached the rich kids' house, Bif made a gesture that he is watching the Greaser while he is there and will not hesitate to pummel him if he tries anything. The Greaser does his best to ignore the threat to resume his goal. "Hey, (Y/n)!" He calls to the Prep girl once he sees her. (Y/n) stops pacing and makes eye contact with Peanut, smiling at him and walking up to meet him halfway. "Did you find them? Please tell me you did!" (Y/n) begs, paranoia evident in her voice. Peanut only smiles at her, then digs in his pocket. "Are these yours?" He asks in a playful tone and reveals the Sapphire gems in his palm. (Y/n) lets out a surprised yelp and snatches the earrings from the Greaser, inspecting them and quickly pocketing them herself. "Oh my gosh! Larry, you're the best!" She jumps for joy and then wraps her arms around his neck in a grateful hug, squeezing him tight. Peanut laughs surprised and returns the embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist. This is exactly what he had hoped for, being praised by (Y/n) for pleasing her. "Thank you so much! You're amazing!" (Y/n) beams at the Greaser. Peanut grows a little flustered at the praise. Surely now, he got a little closer to wooing the cutest Preppy girl in school. _______________________________________ This one took a little longer than expected. This is all my fault since I was procrastinating on this one, but it's finished now so I can work on the rest of these. Thanks for reading❤️ - Smilex🙂

[quiet-compassion]

OFMD Fluffvember Day 11: Treasure

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51679648

“You hate it, don’t you?”

Stede startles, face shifting from vague befuddlement to wide-eyed panic.

“Of course I don’t!” he asserts indignantly. His eyes flicker back down to the paper in his lap. “But, uh, what is it, exactly?”

Ed sighs. Fucking figures. He’s been working on this gift for Stede for two weeks, staying up late after Stede fell asleep and bringing supplies out with him on the dinghy while fishing to maintain the secret and surprise. And even after all of that, it’s still not right.

“It’s a map,” he explains, voice resigned. 

Stede rolls his eyes on instinct. “Yes, I can see that.” His tone is extremely bitchy in a way that makes Ed feel incredibly fond even in the midst of this moment of embarrassment. Stede takes a moment to breathe, schooling his expression into something softer, more polite, before continuing on. “I meant, what is it a map of, dear?”

Ed hesitates. This already feels like a bit of a disaster and the idea of digging himself even further into this hole, of seeing this gift idea through, is not pleasant. The thing is Stede is just so good at gifts. He’s always been overwhelmingly generous with Ed, sharing his fine things, giving Ed finery of his own. Even now, with considerably less wealth at his disposal, he’s always giving Ed thoughtful stuff. He saves Ed the last bit of pineapple. He fashions Ed a new fishing rod, taking the time to carve his name into the handle. He writes Ed letters full of love. It comes easily to Stede in a way it doesn’t to him.

And look, it’s not that he doesn’t want to give Stede things. It’s that the gift ideas he comes up with never feel worthy of Stede. You don’t become history’s greatest pirate without getting your hands on a lot of loot. He’s stolen precious jewels, plundered fine heirlooms, amassed a plethora of riches. Stede is by far the finest most precious thing he’s ever beheld. What present could possibly live up to that? But every time Stede gives him something, he feels warmed from the inside. And he wants to make Stede feel like that.

So, pride be damned, he’s giving Stede this gift.

“It’s a map of the island,” he says in answer to Stede’s question. “Well, a map of what we’ve explored so far. The positioning and the landmarks should be right but the scale’s a bit wonky I reckon, since I did it from memory.”

Stede’s mouth falls open into a little ‘o’. “You drew me a map of our home?”

“Yeah, but not because I think you’re gonna get lost or anything!” Ed rushes to assure him. “Just—fuck! Okay, you see this spot up here?” He leans over the map still clasped in Stede’s hands, pointing to a corner he’s marked with an ‘x’.

Stede nods, bringing his finger up to the spot in question and tracing over it.

“Well, you gotta use the map to get there, to find it.”

There’s a beat of silence

“You drew me a map and planned me a treasure hunt?”

Ed nods, rocking back on his heels, hand shoved into his pockets. He’s trying to project nonchalance despite the roaring insecurity threatening to consume him. “Yeah, not like it’s a big deal. Just an idea I had—”

“Ed,” Stede interrupts. “You drew me a map and planned me a treasure hunt!” He sounds giddy, astonished. Ed chances a glance at him.

“Well…”

“Edward, this is amazing! We get to go on another adventure together! You must have spent a while on this,” he pours over the map again with more enthusiasm. “There’s a good bit of detail here!”

Caught off guard, Ed asks, “So…you like it?”

Stede beams at him. “Ed, I love it! It’s a lovely surprise! But I thought you said pirates don’t bury treasure.”

Ed smiles bashfully. “Yeah, they don’t. But we’re not really pirates anymore, are we?”

Stede’s practically vibrating with excitement now. “What’s the occasion? What brought this on?” he asks.

“No occasion, really. Just, you do thoughtful shit for me all the time. And I wanted to show you that I was thinking of you too. Am thinking of you. Like, all the time.”

The smile he receives from Stede then is a gift in its own right. Instantly, the uncertainty and reticence he’d been feeling melt away, replaced by a cozy calmness. He blames the warmth in his chest for the sappy line he says next.

“Besides, you’re my greatest treasure, so this seemed fitting.”

It’s cheesy as hell but Stede seems touched, if a little disappointed. 

“Ah, so that’s the treasure, is it? Symbolic? Time spent together on an adventure?” His voice is deceivingly light.

Ed laughs. “Um, no. Fuck that. There’s trinkets buried up there,” he assures, envisioning the sea glass necklaces he had painstakingly made to bury alongside a jar of marmalade and some cool-looking shells. “What, you think I’d drag us all that way only to not dig something up?”

“Oh thank god,” Stede exhaled. “That would have been such a bummer!”

Ed leans against the wall, watching with fond admiration as Stede darts excitedly around their cabin grabbing supplies and pondering an outfit change. Perhaps he’s not as bad at gifting as he thought.

[llatimeria]

another example of Instagram actually being a pretty nice place sometimes - I've somehow wandered into teacher/parent/adults-who-interact-with-kids-frequently Instagram and it's so fucking refreshing seeing adults retaining the negative lessons they were taught as kids&teens and actually trying to help their kids overcome problems instead of just punish punish punish.

like I just ran into a computer science teacher who observed that kids in her class post-covid were having a harder time getting off their phones and focusing on their work, but she still wanted to not confiscate the phones entirely because you can't just. take someone else's stuff like that. and she wanted them to be able to listen to music while they worked if they wanted, since that's now extremely normal and it'd be really frustrating and unrealistic to force someone to work in silence if that's just not how they work best.

so she came up with a genius solution: when a kid was messing with their phone too much, she'd put it in a paper bag and staple it shut, then leave the bag at the kid's workspace. this is so fucking smart it's sending me reeling. I got in trouble for fiddling with my phone too much in class so much as a teen... because I was developing PTSD and my phone was my lifeline. now, post-covid (ok "post" is a stretch but yknow), basically every fuckin kid on earth is traumatized, basically kneecapping an entire generation with focus issues and all the other delightful things that come with experiencing trauma. they aren't struggling because they're dumb phone addicted iPad babies, they're struggling because they've experienced being ripped away from their friends, their family, their culture, their community, leaving them completely isolated (in potentially toxic home lives) if it weren't for their phones. of course these kids are hesitant to put them down. they had "phone = where I get love" kicked into their skulls by a cinderblock during an extremely sensitive point in their brain's development. taking their phones away could be a minor retraumatization - not to mention all the other logistical difficulties involved with confiscating a $1000 piece of personal machinery (like if it gets broken or stolen under your watch... you might be on the hook for it, and that's no fun lmao)

so basically. you just can't do that. it's in no one's best interest.

but the kids still need to like... learn. in school. it's good for your brain to learn things, and learning skills (especially creative/technical skills like coding) might actually help them heal, so you really do not want to associate your classroom with pain and anxiety like that, and the paper bag method feels so perfect for that. the kids still have their phones, and precious little is actually separating them from it -- it's just a paper bag. if they really need their phone, it's no issue to break into it. but the paper bag is enough of a barrier that it helps redirect their attention back to their work. if they start feeling The Itch(tm), they'll look at their phone and be immediately thwarted by Bag, reminding them of their assignment or redirecting them to scratch their Itch with a fidget toy instead so they don't get sucked into an infinite-scrolling black hole or a stupid mobile game designed to hijack people's attention and keep them on their phones for as long as fucking possible because that's how ads make money.

this isn't foolproof obviously but this absolutely would've worked on me as a phone-clingy teen. honestly it probably will still work on me as a phone-clingy adult. I might actually try it. i wish someone had thought to try it when I was in school! I definitely would've felt like it was more fair than confiscating my phone entirely but still actually help me improve my attention span. I'd definitely just be like "that's actually a pretty fair deal" and put my phone in the stupid bag if it was offered to me ever, but instead I just had to endure living in a soul blender until I graduated.

[flock-of-cassowaries]

When Mason Verger said that he had a surrogate for Margot, I was absolutely sure he meant Will.

I think that would’ve worked even better than the pig, dramatically (and, presumably, equally poorly, medically).

Obviously, you wouldn’t have the baby at the same somewhat advanced gestational age as what’s portrayed in the pig scene - it would be more of a blastocyst scenario - but I think that the sheer body horror element of Mason not only ‘harvesting’ Will’s face, but also using his disfigured body as an incubator, would work really well.

I feel like that would just be… so medically-insane, and so dehumanizing to Will, and so cruel, that I feel like it takes Mason Verger around the corner from cartoonish and campy all the way back into terrifying again.

Because at that point, even though his ideas are fucking baldfaced lunacy, he’s got enough money that he’s being enabled in his madness.

And I think that’s a very frightening concept.

I also think “Will Graham as an unwilling surrogate” would appeal to Mason, because Mason makes it quite clear on several occasions that he thinks Margot should be carrying his baby.

By Will having become the father of Margot’s would-be child - the would-be child that Mason killed - Will unknowingly usurped the position Mason has convinced himself was rightfully his.

So there’s a certain deranged symmetry to him (Mason) forcing Will into the position of being pregnant with his and Margot’s baby; and I think that would really work for Mason.

(Especially because I feel like Mason hates women - he must, to abuse Margot the way he does - and I think the added element of ‘demeaning’ Will by casting him in the feminine role would do things for him.)

From Margot’s perspective, I think it would be just as devastating for her to realize that all her harvested eggs had been inseminated by her brother’s sperm; because if you think about it, she has been trying to escape his oft-repeated intention to impregnate her for as long as we’ve know her - most likely her entire life.

And now, he’s stolen her last precious chances at reproduction - the eggs he harvested from her during the surgery that killed her and Will’s fetal child - and he’s infected them with his sperm. He’s found another way to beat her - a way she didn’t even realize was possible. He’s won. Again.

(I am a strong Margot would never act to bring any form of Mason’s child into the world truther. I understand that the plot set up a financial motive for it, but that part never sat right with me. It just feels unrealistic that a woman abused the way she was would ever intentionally create a child descended from her abuser.)

I also feel like introducing something that’s somehow even more unlikely to actually work than the face-transplant plan would work with the pacing and general tone of the episode.

When you open with your one lead trying to bone-saw open the other lead’s cranium, you pretty much need to consistently keep raising the stakes; because the moment you let the audience catch their breath, the sheer over-the-top silliness of it all is going to become glaringly apparent.

I think I see what they were trying to do with the pig scene, but for me, it drags.

Like, in another context (perhaps with a dying human surrogate instead of a pig, and definitely in an overall less-absurd episode), I think it could work really well. But I don’t think you can pair that scene with the general over-the-top nature of Digestivo without really bringing the action to a screeching halt.

It just doesn’t pair harmoniously. It’s like serving fine wine with a platter of marshmallow peeps. The elements; they are fighting each other.

“Mason attempts to make cis-male mpreg A Thing”, on the other hand, would amp up the horrifying absurdity of that whole scenario; and that, in turn, would keep the stakes ratcheting up nicely, and the tension on the ropes suspending the audience’s disbelief nice and taut.

[solitaire-sol]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

Big thanks to @mycupofrum and @lovelymasks for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

29, though all but one are 500-word microfics so it's not that impressive.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

17,377... which is pretty on-par, given the above.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment, I'm only actively writing and posting Harry Potter fics, though I've written more widely in the past, for many and varied fandoms. Most of it went unpublished, though.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

All but one are oneshot microfics, and all are Prongfoot, of course. None of them have done big numbers, but I cherish every little heart!

this universe of you and me (we'll make ourselves inevitable) [45]

10. Diamond [41]

21. Deprive [25]

22. Lineage [22]

10. Hope [22]

5. Do you respond to comments?

Every comment! I might take a while, depending on how things are going for me, but I don't get a lot so the ones I have are extra-precious. As a commenter, I love it when the author responds so I know I'm not annoying them with my comment, so that's a factor, too.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Um... I guess the second bonus epilogue to 05. North? Since it leads into the canon path for Sirius, which is, as we know, not his best possible timeline.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm going to go with 16. Cultivate, because it's just kid!Prongsfoot and strongly-implied mutual crushes and nothing bad happens to them after this, okay?? we can pretend, dammit

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, though that's probably due to audience size + wordcount, so not much room to offend or people to be offended. Silver linings!

9. Do you write smut?

Yes! But none that I've published. It's good enough for me, but I don't know if anyone else would like it, and then: Self doubt! Preemptive cringe! And I don't post it.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not in a "characters from Thing A meet characters from Thing B" way, but I've done some yet-to-be-published microfics that take HP characters (mostly James and Sirius, obviously) and put them in other settings, like Madoka Magica or Pacific Rim. So... Yes, I guess?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge! Honestly, I think I'd be kind of flattered that anyone would consider my writing worth stealing.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge! Although, like the above, it'd be very flattering if it ever happened.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not unless prose-style roleplaying counts as fanfiction! I'd be interested in trying it, but I have no idea how it would go.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

James/Sirius, Sirius/James, Prongsfoot, Bambibelle, by any other name, they're my overall favorite ship with 99.9% certainty.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

... Anything that's more than a oneshot, yes. It's so much easier to imagine the perfect fic and watch it play out like a mind-movie rather than hauling it out of my brainpan like a deep-sea fisherman wrestling a trophy marlin onto dry land, all typed and edited and posted despite second/third/more thoughts.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like descriptions and scene-setting and lore/worldbuilding, and I've been told that I'm pretty decent at this, so I'd say those? The fact that I've written a lot of microfics without any dialogue whatsoever probably says a lot.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue! Especially in HP, because the intricacies of British English and years of seeing British/Commonwealth opinions on Americans failing to write British characters (in fanfiction, specifically) has me too anxious to try. I have so many modern Prongsfoot ideas that I can't bring myself to attempt due to this, leaving them to rot like fallen leaves in the orchard of my imagination. More generally, I'm terrible at longfics or anything that requires extended effort because the number of spoons I have is variable but usually rounds up to "too few." Then I feel bad because I haven't been writing, etc etc, which is why I've only published microfics.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I don't have any problem with it if it fits; I got really into Poe in middle school and he loves throwing in random non-English quotes without translating it, so I can't begrudge anyone who does it now. I only speak/write in English so that's the language my fics are in.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Pokemon. It was based on my first-ever playthrough of Pokemon Blue, but with the "Red" MC replaced by a pseudo-self-insert who spent most of the fic disguised as a boy/her own deceased twin brother whose soul was somehow inside of her for... some reason. (Note: I don't have a twin brother.) I wouldn't learn what fanfiction was for at least a few more years, but I'm pretty sure that was my first.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I once did a novelization of an obscure JRPG that rewrote huge chunks of the game, improved characterization, closed plot holes and fixed the terrible English translation, as well as expanding the world and lore. It had an actual physical folder dedicated to all my notes and I had plans for an even bigger sequel. Sadly, I only posted the first chapter before my computer died and I lost everything on it (back up your work, kids!), and I subsequently lost most of my notes in a move. I'm not sure if this is a subconscious contributor to why I've only written short-form things since then, but I have fond if wistful feelings about it anyway-- Like my fanfic lost Lenore.

[chryblossomjjk]

hi kiki !!! im pretty new here and this is the first ask i’ve sent but i just wanted to pop in and say how much i adore not only ur writing but just u in general !! both practice and imagine are incredible n i could go on and on about how much comfort ive found in ur writing and ur characters but we’d be here for DAYS… weeks even 🫣 idk how to explain this exactly but u do such a wonderful job at making the story and the characters so beautifully human… like ofc most stories keep it as realistic as possible but when i read urs i literally feel like im living the experience or watching the ppl i love from the sidelines yk?? its just so REAL and RAW and i cant get enough. when i tell u practice couple have me by the NECK like ive reread it so many times already and i find something new to love about it every single time !!! i hope everyone finds a love like theirs, truly.

and as for u, U ARE SOOO PRECIOUS. ive spent the last few days catching up on kiki lore just bc i wanted to get to know u better aside from ur works and u have stolen my heart actually !! ur so funny and down to earth and i can tell just how much u love writing and interacting with everyone and something about u and ur page is so warm and cozy and refreshing 🥺 i hope ur taking care and that u always find things that bring u joy in every day, even if it’s something little!! u deserve all the good things this world has to offer and as a new follower i cant wait to see what the future has in store for u and im so happy to experience this little journey!! and i hope u never forget how loved n valued u are, u have a beautiful heart and dont let anyone ever tell u otherwise!!

ill wrap this up bc ive already made this so long but thank u for all that u do 🥺🫂🫶🏻 u work so hard to create these amazing stories for us and i hope u know we will never take that for granted ! always remember to rest and put ur health first, i know life can get crazy so it’s important that u look after urself !!!

p.s. - so excited for the weekend i could pee my pants. u have no idea.

not sure what emoji i should go by in ur asks… hmm… maybe ⭐️? or is that taken already?

lots of love to u!!

ummm soooooo

idk what tf i've done to be deserving of such a sweet message but im literally tearing up while writing smut what have u do to me friend akejndajdnsajn

first of all, thank you so much for being here and sending in such a sweet fucking ask. i hope you're enjoying your time on here so far my love!!

and this is probably one of the biggest compliments ive ever recieved about my writing. its so reassuring so thank you so so so so much ugh! its so incredibly difficult to make things feel/sound realistic. i often mull over the same scene and dialogue over and over and over again, wondering if the conversations feel normal, or if the dialogue feels right for that specific character, so your comment literally means everything to me!! and it makes me so happy that you care about the characters like im literally fucking gushing!!

AND EXCUSE U NO YOU YOU'RE PRECIOUS AND YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING GOOD IN THE WORLD NO STFU YOU NOT ME YOUUUUUU!!!!

I LOVE YOU SO DEARLY!!!

i generally feel like i am a very annoying n extra human being lol so thank you for sticking through n reading my posts and yeah :'(( i do really love interacting with people on here and i try my best to make this blog feel as safe and inviting as possible so im it makes me saur soft that you feel that way and ugh i cant i dont even know what to say other than i love u sm my lil star friend :'))

[thedisneychef]

Are Recipes Protected By Copyright Law?

Have you ever made a recipe from the internet and wondered if it was copyrighted? If you're like me, I'm sure this question has crossed your mind. It's a good thing to be aware of as recipes can often include unique ingredients or cooking techniques that someone may have developed themselves. In this article, we'll discuss whether recipes have copyright protection and what implications this could have for cooks looking to share their creations online. Copyright Basics When it comes to meal planning, I'm all about making things as simple and efficient as possible. Knowing that many recipes can be copyrighted is a great reminder to make sure what you're using is in the public domain or properly attributed. Recipe databases are helpful resources for this purpose because they often cite original sources of information. However, not every recipe out there may have an original source, so if you’re unsure whether something is copyright protected or not it's important to do some research. Copyright law protects creative works like literary, dramatic, artistic and musical works including certain kinds of websites and software from being used without permission from the creator. Recipes aren't excluded from these protections either; even though ingredients themselves cannot be copyrighted, their combination into a unique recipe can be. It's always best to seek permission before reproducing any kind of work that has been created by another person or entity unless your goal is to create something completely different than what was originally made. So if you want to use someone else's recipe for dinner tonight or share them with friends online then make sure you know who owns the rights first! Copyright Protection For Recipes I'm sure many of us have a favorite recipe or two that we guard carefully. Whether it was passed down through generations, found in an old cookbook, or created from scratch, these recipes are precious to us and can be very valuable if published. It's important to understand copyright protection for recipes when you consider publishing them in a cookbook. Copyright law provides some legal protection for original works, including recipes, so your work isn't stolen without permission or credit given. If someone publishes your recipe without giving due credit, then you may have the right to take action against them under copyright law. However, there are some caveats - the author must prove they own the rights to the recipe and that their version is significantly different than any other versions already published. When it comes to protecting your recipes before cookbook publishing, registering with the U.S Copyright Office is recommended as this will give you additional legal recourse should someone try to use your creations without authorization. Additionally, consulting a lawyer who specializes in intellectual property matters is another way to ensure proper protection of your recipes while navigating the complex world of cookbook publishing. Copyright Exceptions For Recipes I'm wondering if recipes can be copyrighted. I know that some recipes are in the public domain, so anyone can use them without permission. But what about derivative works or recipes that are based off of other recipes? Does fair use apply in these cases? I'm interested in finding out what the rules are when it comes to copyrighting recipes. Can I legally create a recipe based on someone else's work? I'm just not sure what the legal implications are when it comes to copyrighting recipes. Public Domain Recipes Cooking up something delicious can be a fun and creative activity, but did you know that some recipes are actually protected by copyright law? It's true - the same laws that protect books, music and films also apply to certain recipes. That said, there are exceptions for public domain recipes – those which have been passed down through generations of cooks or documented in cookbooks. Understanding cooking techniques is key when it comes to creating recipe variations on your own. For example, if you learn how to make an omelette from scratch, you could create endless variations with different ingredients like spinach and feta cheese. However, many people don't realize that they should still give credit where due; even though these adaptations may not be exact replicas of another person’s copyrighted work, their inspiration should still be acknowledged appropriately. In conclusion , while traditional cooking techniques often remain freely accessible to everyone who wishes to use them, care must still be taken when discussing recipes as there may be legal implications involved. Knowing the difference between public domain and copyrighted works is essential for any aspiring chef! Derivative Works Now let's look at derivative works, which are a form of copyright exception that applies to recipes as well. A derivative work is when someone takes an existing recipe and modifies it in some way - such as adding new ingredients or changing the instructions. While this type of modification isn't strictly protected under copyright law, it still requires credit to be given back to the original creator if their modifications have been used. This is important for aspiring chefs to remember so they can stay on the right side of the law! When creating your own recipe variations from public domain recipes, you don't need to worry about getting permission from anyone else or giving them credit; these recipes are free for all to use without restriction. However, if you find yourself taking inspiration from copyrighted works then make sure that you give due recognition where it’s deserved. In other words, understand the legal implications before diving into cooking up something delicious – by doing this, you'll be able to ensure that both yourself and others get the credit they deserve for their creative culinary efforts! Fair Use Exceptions It's also important to note that there are some fair use exceptions when it comes to creating recipes. This means that if you're taking inspiration from existing works and using them in your own recipe creation, it doesn't necessarily have to be considered a violation of copyright laws. As long as the original creator is given credit for their work and any modifications made don't exceed what's necessary for cooking techniques, then you should be fine. For example, if you're adapting an existing recipe by adding a few additional ingredients or changing the preparation methods slightly, this can all still fall under fair use - as long as you give due recognition back to the original author/creator. Of course, always make sure to do your research beforehand and double-check with legal experts just in case! With that said, remember that all forms of creativity take time and effort; so don’t forget to give others their deserved credit whenever possible - while also protecting yourself legally. Copyright And Recipe Sharing Cooking can be a creative act, so it makes sense to wonder whether recipes are subject to copyright protection. It turns out that many countries offer some degree of legal protection for recipes. Ownership of the recipe is usually protected by intellectual property law and requires attributing credit when sharing or publishing the recipe. In terms of ownership, most countries recognize that there may be an implied copyright in recipes if they are original creations from authors who have taken considerable effort to create them. In these cases, attribution must always be given when reproducing or sharing the recipe with others. For example, if a food blogger creates an original dish, any reproduction would need to include proper recognition of the author’s work. When cooking at home from someone else's recipe book or website, no one will come after you for carrying out their instructions; however, it does not mean that you should take advantage of someone else's hard work without recognizing where your meal came from. Recipe attribution involves giving credit to the creators – those chefs, cookbook authors and bloggers who put time into developing delicious dishes we love making and eating! Copyright Infringement Penalties I'm sure a lot of us have heard about copyright infringement and what it means. But does that also apply to recipes? The answer is yes! If you copy someone else's recipe without their permission, you are committing a form of plagiarism which can be considered as copyright infringement. This is especially true if the recipe has been published or copyrighted in some way. When it comes to recipes, the concept of fair use may come into play depending on how much of the original work was used and how it was presented. Fair use allows for limited portions of another person’s work to be reproduced without breaking any laws related to copyright infringement. However, if too much of the other person’s work is reused or not properly credited then there could be legal consequences involved with recipe plagiarism. It's important to remember that when creating your own recipes, you should always give credit where it is due and avoid copying others' works completely in order to stay away from potential issues with copyright law. If you're ever unsure about whether something falls under fair use or not, make sure you do thorough research ahead of time so that you don't run into any problems down the road. Frequently Asked Questions How Do I Register My Recipe For Copyright Protection? If you want to register your recipe for copyright protection, there are a few steps you can take. First and foremost, it's important to make sure that the recipe is original and not adapted from another source. Once this is established, you will need to look into registering with the U.S. Copyright Office or making sure that your work is properly covered through an online platform like Recipe Sharing Network (RSN). With RSN, they will help ensure that recipes are copyrighted and enforced in order to protect them from being shared without permission. Additionally, if possible, include disclaimers about ownership on any website or blog post featuring your recipes as well as proper credit given when others share them - this goes a long way! Can I Copyright A Recipe That Is Similar To Someone Else's? Yes, it is possible to copyright a recipe that is similar to someone else's. However, the original author may have already copyrighted their own version of the recipe. In order for your variation to be protected, you must create something unique enough to qualify as a derivative work, meaning it needs to possess some form of creativity or originality. If not, then unfortunately there is no way to protect such recipes from being copied by others without permission. Is It Possible To Copyright A Recipe That Is Already Published? Yes, it is possible to copyright a recipe that is already published. However, if the recipe was made open source or in public domain, then it may not be legally copyrightable. Additionally, for any recipes you find online or in books, make sure that there are no copyrights attached so that you can use them freely without potential legal issues. How Can I Tell If My Recipe Has Been Copied By Someone Else? You've worked hard to create a delicious and unique recipe, so it's natural that you'd want to protect it. But how can you tell if someone else has copied your recipe without permission? One way is to research copyright laws surrounding recipes and look into the possibility of registering your recipe with the US Copyright Office. You should also keep an eye out for suspiciously similar dishes being served at other restaurants or food companies, as this could be a sign that your recipe was plagiarized. Additionally, there are services available online which allow you to check existing recipes against yours in order to determine if any similarities exist. If you believe that someone has stolen your work, then you may need to consult legal advice on what action can be taken next. What Happens If I Accidentally Infringe On Someone Else's Recipe Copyright? If you accidentally infringe on someone else's recipe copyright, it can be a tricky situation to deal with. Depending on the severity of the infringement, copyright enforcement could come into play. This means that if your recipe is too similar to another one or closely resembles someone else’s work, there may be legal repercussions like hefty fines and other penalties. It's important to understand how serious recipe piracy is in order to avoid any potential issues. Conclusion In conclusion, it is possible to register a recipe for copyright protection, but there are certain elements that must be met in order for the recipe to qualify. For example, the recipe should not be too similar to an existing one or already published. Additionally, if someone has copied your recipe without permission, you can take legal action against them. It's important to remember that copyright law applies to recipes just as it does any other creative work and understanding how it works will help protect your intellectual property rights. Read the full article

[usbdriveundelete]

How To Recover Lost Data With USB Data Recovery

Have you ever experienced the heart-stopping panic of realizing that an important file or document is gone? In this article, we will discuss how to recover lost data with USB data recovery. We'll look at the steps involved in the process, what kind of data can be recovered, and what other options you have for rescuing your precious files.

How to Recover Lost Data on Your USB Data Recovery

If you have lost data on your USB drive, there are a few things you can do to try to recover it. First, try plugging the USB drive into another computer and seeing if the data is still accessible. If not, try using a data recovery program like Recuva or Pandora Recovery. These programs can scan your USB drive for any recoverable files and attempt to recover them.

If you're still having no luck, then it's time to try a more drastic measure: send your USB drive to a professional data recovery service. These services specialize in recovering data from all sorts of storage devices, including USB drives. They will be able to use their advanced tools and techniques to try to retrieve your lost data.

Of course, there is no guarantee that any of these methods will work, but it's definitely worth a shot if you've lost important data on your USB drive.

Professional Software for USB Data Recovery

There are many different software programs that claim to be able to recover lost data from a USB drive. However, not all of these programs are created equal. Some are more effective than others, and some are even scams. It is important to choose a professional program that has a good reputation in order to get the best results.

One such program is Recover My Files by GetData. This program has been around for many years and has helped thousands of people recover their lost data. It is very user-friendly and has a wide range of features that make it one of the most effective programs available. Another great option is EaseUS Data Recovery Wizard. This program is also very user-friendly and offers a wide range of features to help you recover your lost data.

If you are looking for a professional USB data recovery program, then these two options are definitely worth considering.

Tips to Avoid Losing your USB Data

As a general rule, it's always a good idea to have backups of your important data. That way, if you do lose your USB data for any reason, you can restore it from the backup.

There are a few specific things you can do to help avoid losing your USB data in the first place:

1. Use a USB drive with built-in encryption. This will help protect your data if the drive is lost or stolen.

2. Set up automatic backups to an external hard drive or cloud storage service. That way, if you do lose your USB drive, you'll still have a copy of your data.

3. Be careful when removing the drive from your computer. Eject it properly so that all data is safely written to the drive before it's disconnected.

4. Don't put all your eggs in one basket - use multiple USB drives for different purposes, and spread your important data across multiple drives (or even better, multiple locations). That way, if one drive is lost or damaged, you won't lose everything.

Conclusion

USB Data Recovery is a powerful tool that can help you recover lost data from your USB drive. It’s important to note that this process should only be used as a last resort, and if possible, it’s best to try other methods first such as using the Recycle Bin, File History or third-party backup software. If those methods fail, then you may want to consider trying out one of the many USB Data Recovery tools available on the market today. With these tips in mind, we hope you have been able to find an effective solution for your data loss woes!

[trackimei12]

Boost Mobile Phone Insurance What You Need To Know

preamble –

moment, as a result of the rapid-fire development in technology and the release of new bias, numerous people choose to buy a smartphone. So if you have a smartphone and you don’t want to worry about breaking it, you also need to buy mobile phone insurance from Boost. This composition will outline the colorful benefits of Boost Mobile Phone Insurance and what factors you should consider when copping your policy.( imei check iphone)

figure –

Boost Mobile Phone Insurance

Why Get Boost Mobile Phone Insurance?

What Does Boost Mobile Phone Insurance Cover?

How to cover Your Smartphone with Boost Mobile Phone Insurance

How important Does It Cost?

Conclusion

Boost Mobile Phone Insurance

Boost Mobile offers phone insurance for$ 7/ month. The insurance covers lost, stolen, or damaged phones, and includes up to two relief phones per time.

Still, that’s what you need to know

If you ’re considering getting Boost Mobile phoneinsurance.How much does it bring?

Boost Mobile phone insurance costs$ 7/ month.

What does it cover?

The insurance covers lost, stolen, or damaged phones. It also includes up to two relief phones peryear.However, Boost will repair it, If your phone is damaged.

What is n’t covered?

The insurance does n’t cover damage caused by water or purposeful damage( like dropping your phone on purpose). It also does n’t cover lost or stolen accessories, like dishes or cases.

Is it worth it?

That depends on many factors. How much would it bring to replace your phone without insurance? If you ’re prone to losing or damaging your phone, Boost Mobile insurance could save you plutocrats in the long run. (check number location)

Why Get Boost Mobile Phone Insurance?

Still, you may be wondering if you should get insurance for it, If you enjoy a Boost Mobile phone.

The cost of the phone If you have a precious phone, it may be worth getting insurance in case it’s lost or stolen.

The value of the phone If the phone isn’t worth much, insurance may not be necessary.

Your life If you’re active and frequently outside, there’s a lesser chance that your phone could be damaged. 

Your budget Insurance generally costs around$ 5- 10 per month.

After considering these factors, you can decide if Boost Mobile phone insurance is right for you.

(mobile tracker free online)

What Does Boost Mobile Phone Insurance Cover?

Boost Mobile Phone Insurance covers your phone against theft, loss, and damage. It also covers you against accidental damage, water damage, and screen damage.

Smartphone with Boost Mobile Phone Insurance

Boost Mobile Phone Insurance comes in. you can cover your smartphone with boost mobile insurance.However, stolen, or damaged, If your phone is lost.

That’s how it works

still, train a claim at Trackimei, If you lose yourphone.net or by calling You ’ll need to give your account information and the periodical number of your phone.

still, you ’ll need to file a police report within 24 hours of the incident and submit it to Boost Mobile, 

Still, you can file a claim at Trackimei, If your phone isdamaged.net or by calling You ’ll need to describe the damage and give prints if possible. A representative will also determine if the damage is covered under the insurance policy.

Once you file a claim, Boost Mobile will shoot you a relief phone as soon as the coming business day. The relief phone will be new or refurbished, and it will.( find my samsung phone)

How important Does It Cost?

There’s no single answer to this question since the cost of Boost Mobile phone insurance will vary depending on many different factors. For illustration, insurance for a high- end smartphone like an iPhone will obviously bring further than insurance for a introductory point phone.

Other factors that can affect the cost of your insurance include the length of your policy and the deductible you choose. A shorter policy or an advanced deductible will generally affect a lower yearly decoration, but it’s important to make sure you ’re still getting the content you need. (boost mobile imei check)

At the end of the day, the stylish way to figure out how important Boost Mobile phone insurance will bring you is to get a quotation from their website. Just enter in some introductory information about yourself and your device and they ’ll give you a personalized quotation.(boost mobile insurance)

Conclusion

Boost Mobile phone insurance is a great way to cover your investment. For a small yearly figure, you can have peace of mind knowing that if a commodity happens to your phone, you’ll be covered. We largely recommend Boost Mobile phone insurance for anyone looking for an affordable way to cover their mobile device.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

I have been thinking hard about how I'd want that man Danny Johnson catered to me. And I came to the conclusion that Danny breaking into the reader's home, threatening to have her guts all over the fucking floor if she isn't a good obedient girl would be ideal. Bonus points for begging, knife play and leather gloves. And the mask stays on for the whole show. Your choice if the scenario is really could-be-lethal stranger danger, or an arranged kinky night. I trust your taste in this. -Furball891

Oh my fucking Goddddd, Furball! I love you! You have been here longer than fucking anyone and I am so happy to be doing this for you! Seriously amazing prompt! I worked so hard on this and really wanted to get it out before the new year and I am so glad I managed it! I didn’t wanna rush this and think it is all the better for taking my time! Juding by the ask I figured you wanted a fem reader with she/her pronouns, hope that is correct. I am dying to hear your thoughts on this one, so without further ado let’s get into it!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 5.2K. Danny Johnson/DBD Ghostface X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Reader. Warnings: DUB CON. Canon Compliant Creepiness. Stalking. General Creep Behaviour. Mentions Of Murder And Violence. Voyeurism. Masturbation. Obsession. Breaking And Entering. Panty Snatching. Man Handling. Mask Kink. Hitting. Knife Play. Blood Play. Glove And Hand Kink. Spanking. Teasing. Danny Being A Bastard. Oral Sex. Blow Job. Throat Fucking. Vaginal Fingering. Vaginal Sex. Cream Pie. Dirty Talk. Praise. Begging. Degradation. Gagging. Victim Blaming. Threat Of Death. Complex Kink Play.

—

Be Good For Me.

—

Danny always loved to really get a feel for the objects of his affection and obsession. He liked to get in their head and feel like he really knew them before making that all important first introduction. And what better way to get to know someone than following them and seeing how they live? Stalking someone for days, bleeding into weeks and sometimes even months, and he had to say that you were one of his favourites.

Easily.

Not everyone got such specialised and personal attention, not everyone was worthy of so much of his precious time. The fact he deemed you to be important enough, you should be honoured really. He wondered how you would feel about his level of devotion to you.

He had that journal where he kept a record of all the people he had killed and how he did it, how it went, what he felt in the moment, what they said or how they looked, just whatever details he could write down for him to pour over at later dates to help him recreate and reminisce. Typically that book in one hand and his aching cock in the other.

He writes about you often. Small details and moments and logs of your daily goings on as he follows you. Honestly it would be almost kinda cute with how schoolyard crush the whole thing was, you know, except for the whole stalking, invading your privacy and with intent to harm, thing.

He naturally has so many pictures of you too. Stolen while you are out and about or through the windows of your home or when he has braved the inside of your home, you asleep in your bed or in your shower.

Trying to pick the right time to strike might seem difficult to the casual outside observer but that is not the case for him. He plans so carefully, it has to be just right, he can feel when it is coming up.

There is a kind of giddiness to it when he can tell whoever he is after is almost ready for him, this excitement and anticipation that permeates deeply inside him. He really revels in those last few times watching the person, knowing it is so close to the end, the fantasy so near to becoming reality. Fingers itch in anticipation and his mind runs wild with the possibilities stretched out before him, so many choices, but what avenue to take? He thinks over that during those last few times watching someone, thinks long and hard about what he wants to see, hear and experience from that person.

Usually it comes to him easily and it is so clear.

But then we get to you and how he feels when you are nearly ripe for the taking.

It is hard to describe, stumping him on that front is no small feat when writing is his livelihood and so integral to his personal ‘hobby.’ His vocabulary is massive and he is so rarely at a loss for words and yet that somehow, you just have that effect on him.

Tonight is the last time he is just going to watch.

There is always something special in that, even with people that aren’t as important to him as you are, knowing the next time he comes by it is with that explicit intent. That this private one-sided affair, whatever between him and them, or in this case, him and you, is about to change forever.

It was truly a unique feeling.

Sitting outside in what had become his favourite spot to watch you outside of your home. He’d followed you all day, really took it all in because he knows it is so close. You had the day off, went out, did some errands and shopping before coming back home, doing chores and cooking and just all of the best mundane things you got up to in your usual daily life.

He watches you make breakfast for dinner, he loves watching you cook. He watches you eat in front of the tv and as you do your dishes. He watches you relax and unwind.

And he enthusiastically watches you masturbate in the shower and he jerks off to you solo for the last time. Watches as you have your back against the shower wall, how you gasp and the way your body reacts to how your fingers work in and out of yourself. He can't wait for his fingers to be in place of yours, feel how soaked you are, be the one making you cry out like that.

You look too good, watching how your back arches, chest bounces and the water cascades down your frame. How can he be anything but obsessed with you?

He cums shortly after you do. Paints the glass of the window and wishes that he was cumming on your still trembling form, post-orgasm.

Soon after you go to bed. You read for a while and pass out.

He watches you sleep.

He knows if he goes in there tonight he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

Then again he thinks why is he holding back? His hands are on the window, starting to open it. He gets it halfway before pausing.

Normally he always sticks to his plan, when he picks the night he never deviates but you, fuck, you are naked and sprawled our so inviting and so damn tempting. He could always come take another pair of your panties for his collection, he loves how you react when you notice another pair is missing but no, he shouldn't.

He knows that even him considering this is crazy.

He makes himself pull away, less than a day and you are going to be all fucking his. He knows that the anticipation is going to make the eventual prize all the sweeter. All the more worth it.

The next day the tension is palpable. He can hardly wait to enact it, to get you all to himself. He is even more captivated than usual. If only you knew the effect you had.

You are so unaware.

He likes to think it is because he is that good at what he does rather than you being so utterly unobservant.

You are so busy, having a clearly stressful day, you look so tense and keyed up as you are making your dinner again at the end of your day. He watches as you are chopping vegetables almost angrily, in your comfy clothes, still damp from the shower you hopped into as soon as you got home.

He pictures coming in quietly, of coming up behind you, taking the knife out of your hand and using his own on you. Pinning and contorting you in such a way that your knife is right there but just out of reach.

A taunt.

The ability to defend yourself nearly in your grasp, a frankly perfect way to mock you. He is already hard just thinking about it.

He can’t wait anymore.

He can sit here and fantasise and dream, or he can make it happen.

It is shockingly easy, you need much better locks, your home security is almost nil. You really should do something about it, or some real sicko could get in here.

This isn’t the first time he’d been inside your home. Usually you were either out of the house or dead asleep.

But now it’s night time and the lights are on and you are plating up your dinner and the food smells so good and it is all terribly exciting for him.

He watches you through the entryway of your kitchen door for just a few moments, your back is to him, he sneaks up, so quietly and then his hands are on you.

You have been so in your own head lately.

You were still pouring over your super shitty and stressful day, but finally you were home, clean, had food and wine and you were dying to start unwinding. Just as you pick up your bowl of pasta and are about to make your way to the living room to drown yourself in trash tv you feel a strong pair of leather clad hands on you. One hand over your mouth and one on your shoulder and you jump, he holds you so close to him, feels the warmth of you and how your body fits against his for the first time.

He can smell you and touch you and even through the gloves he knows you are soft, pliable, perfect.

And all for him. Just for him.

He had been thinking long and hard about what should be the first thing he would say to you and what he chose was ultimately basic but it was the way in which he said it that makes it good. He leans in and says in your ear in a tone that is far too light and teasing, “Hey there.”

What the fuck, who the fuck was this and what were they doing in your house?

You are terrified, struggling right away on pure instinct, and he holds you tighter, barely holding back a laugh. It isn’t even fair, he is so much stronger than you and you have no hope.

He tries to quiet you. “Shhh, shhh! Awe don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

You don’t stop, in fact you struggle more and he gets even harder than he already is.

He adjusts, one arm around your neck and his hand over your mouth, holding you closer, his other hand slides down your shoulder and holds your hip, presses your ass to him with the express purpose of you being able to feel how hard he is. You let out a muffled sound of fear from behind his hand.

He speaks to you again, “Fuck, you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? How long I’ve been watching you-” A small grind on your ass and it feels almost as if your heart is gripped in an icy hand of pure terror.

You have to do something.

You make a futile attempt to kick him, throw an elbow back too and it doesn’t work. He laughs, he actually laughs, “Oh wow, look at you! Love when they put up a fight-”

“They.”

He said “they.”

The implication of that, of the ‘they’ meaning more than one, you aren’t the only one this sick fuck has watched and stalked and done God knows what to. What will he do to you? What does he want?

“-you must be really fucking scared hmm? Let’s check-” He turns you around, makes you face him, he shoves you so hard against the counter, the bowl containing your dinner tips over, your food spills but you aren’t focused on that.

Instead you are forced to confront that white mask, that permanent scream and the cold empty eye sockets, it looks horrifyingly unforgiving. His figure looks imposing, still pressed so close, one hand covering your mouth as his other hand is on your throat, thumb pressed just right and he can feel your pulse. Your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest.

He makes sure to watch your face during this, watch how your expression shifts upon seeing him, truly seeing him, for the very first time. God it was good. You looked totally thrown off balance, so confused and he was eating it up. He couldn’t hide how excited he was when he said, “Oh yeah you are.”

You are still trying to struggle and make sounds, any small thing you could do to not feel so helpless and he tsks, tightens his grip and you almost whimper, “Shhh, shhh, quiet. I know, I know. This must be so exciting for you but I need you to calm down for what I want to do-”

You refuse.

As if you would just give in so easily and do whatever he says. You continue to put up a fight.

Or you do until you hear his knife being unsheathed and feel it press to your throat. It makes you freeze. His mask is close to your face as he says in a tone as sharp as the blade in his hand, “Now I don’t want to hurt you-”

His head tips forward and he laughs, a small shake of his head, “-fuck, couldn’t even say that with a straight face, alright, I’ll rephrase-”

His head is back up as he hums and you can’t see his eyes through the mask but you can FEEL him staring you down as he considers how to word this next part, “-okay so I DO want to hurt you but honestly I want to, hopefully, be hurting you for a looong time. I don’t want a reason to kill you.”

He leans in closer, right in your ear, “Not yet.”

The blade feels cold, you’ve never felt more afraid, he is surely able to tell and loving every second of this. He speaks again, “So if I move my hand are you gonna scream?”

You shake your head, eyes pleading, trying to convince him and after a moment of thought he says, “Okay, don’t make me do something-” his knife moves so slowly, a tease that doesn’t cut but tells you just how sharp it is, “-rash.”

He moves his hand and you don’t make a sound, even when he presses the blade harder, the edge of it biting into your tender flesh and he coo’s out, “Ooh there you go. It’s a start.”

He pats the side of your cheek condescendingly with the hand not holding the knife, the cool leather in any other circumstance would feel nice. You are about to work up the courage to ask what he wants from you but he beats you to it.

“So if you do everything I want and are a good girl, I might not just spill your guts all over your nice clean kitchen floor.”

You could do that.

You could be good, you could be useful and entertaining and whatever else he wanted you to be if it means you will get to live.

A shaky nod with a shuddering inhale before you say with a surprisingly steady voice, “I’ll be good.”

A small laugh before saying, “I bet.”

Jesus, you were in deep, how were you ever going to make it out of this with your life?

The way he rocks his hips into yours, makes you feel again how hard he is. With one hand on the back of your neck, the other one still holding the knife dangerously close, he kisses you through the mask and you have to fight the urge to squirm away from him.

When he pulls away he practically purrs for you to get on your knees for him and you fall to them the second he inches the knife back away from your throat. “So obedient.”

He traces the line of your jaw with the edge of his blade and tits your head up, trying to commit the sight of you scared and on your knees before him to memory. He speaks in a tone that even in circumstances where your life was at stake would make you shut up and take notes. “I don’t want you to just go through the motions, I want you to make me feel like you truly want it. Convince me.”

You can manage that.

You lean in, he is holding that knife and his other hand is on your chin, leather clad thumb on your bottom lip, forces you to open your mouth and he tilts and turns your head from side to side, inspecting you.

“Mmm this mouth of yours, the thoughts I have had about it-” With your mouth open you lick over his thumb and it makes his sentence stop short as he watches your lips close around it and suck, tonge lathing over it inside of your mouth.

You’ve known him for such a short while but my God could he talk, good to know he was capable of shutting up.

You pull off and then you lean in closer and mouth at the outline of his hard cock through the material of his pants and press a few kisses there, looking up at him. You had your hands on your spread thighs as you stared up at him, you began to beg. More pressing of your lips bookending the word as you ask, “Please?”

“Please what?” He almost wants to hold his breath as he waits to see what you are going to say.

“Please let me make you feel good?”

Oh that is fucking great to hear, turns him on further.

But he is greedy and wants more. He has that knife to your cheek now and he sing-songs out, “I dunnoooo-”

You whimper in fear and are still looking up at him, you need to try harder to impress him. More kisses, your cheek right against his hard cock, you can almost feel it throbbing through the fabric. You step it up.

“Please let me prove I’m worth keeping alive? Let me choke on it.”

God, he knew there was a reason he liked you so much.

“Fuck yes, you may.”

You jumped at the chance. If you could give him some spectacular head then he would let you live, right?

Your hands worked on opening his pants and freeing him from the confines of his clothing. There was this look in your eyes, lust, hunger, genuine want.

He wanted to make you choke on him until you cried and you honestly looked like you wanted the same thing.

You were a good actor.

You actually looked like you fucking wanted this, wanted him. The threat of death could make people do crazy things though, what better motivator than a big fuck off hunting knife right in your face?

The thing was you weren’t that good of an actor.

You actually couldn’t help it. You were feeling insanely turned on by this. Had to admit to at least yourself, it was so much like the porn you liked to read and indulge yourself in.

You had his pants open, your masked assailant had no underwear on, went totally commando, he really had been planning on doing this and wanted to make it as easy as possible. Less clothes means easier access after all.

Then you lean in, tongue starts at the base of his shaft and runs all the way up the length of him. Your breath is warm, your lips are soft and your tongue is so wet, you’d barely gotten started and it felt fucking good.

You kiss and lick and your mouth closes around the head of his dick and you suck indulgently. You hum around him and start sliding more of him into your mouth right away, no more preamble.

Your mouth feels amazing, better than he ever dreamed. He leans against the counter, making himself even more comfortable while you were certainly starting to feel less than on your knees.

You tightened your lips and pulled back, sucking harder, bobbing your head up and down, your hands on his thighs for support, looking up at him.

“Shit, this mouth-” He bucks forward and you take it with a slight gag. You move with more purpose. Harder, your hand around the base, you suck and take him deeper, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth as you continue to move.

His hand is on your head, pulling you forward until your nose is pressed flat against him, forcing himself as deep as he can into your mouth. He rocks into you over and over, fucking your throat, feeling how you gag and your throat closes around him and he groans out, “Fuck! Take it so well-”

He needs to see more of you. Knife hooks into the strap of your tank top and he cuts it in half, you make a sound of protest against his shaft but he is holding the weapon so threateningly, pointing it right at you as he says, “You know what I want.”

You nod once, not pulling him out and your hands come up and pull the top down, exposing your braless tits to him.

“Perfect.”

He pulls back and thrusts in again and you groan, spit is leaking out now as you continue to move, you shift your hips in a weak attempt to try and make yourself more comfortable, it doesn’t work.

He has the urge and doesn’t stop it. He cuts your cheek and you try to yelp, pausing your sucking, but the knife is still right there, pressing into the fresh wound and it makes you hold him in your mouth, terrified of what might happen if you pull him out and stop.

Your brows are furrowed in discomfort and the expression and the wet and muffled sounds of pain makes him throb on your tongue, he thrusts in again, harder, you gag and as he looks at you it almost steals his breath.

You on your knees, sweat on your brow, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, drool dripping down your chin and onto your tank top, blood streaking down your cheek and onto your exposed chest.

He wants this moment forever.

Lucky for him he came prepared. He pressed the knife into the cut, digs it in harder and you groaned and the vibrations up his shift makes him groan again too, “Don’t fucking move.” he spat.

His other hand is off of your head, well over half his cock is still shoved into your mouth, it weighs heavy on your tongue.

He takes out the camera he purposefully brought along and lines up the shot.

He takes a picture and you look perfect, he is pouring over the picture for a moment, debating about taking another.

You get an idea, you slowly move back, tip of his cock pressed to your lips, spit dripping off of it, your hand on his shaft, holding it there. You lick the tip and said, “Go on.”

As if he needs encouragement.

You play along and allow him to get some different shots, lean down and give his balls some much needed attention as you stroke the shaft, all while looking up at him, he praises you, “What a good little model.”

No way are you dying tonight. Not when you do something totally unexpected.

Your other hand that isn’t holding the base of his shaft swipes through the blood leaking from the cut.

You don’t break eye contact, you bring your hand back over, fingers that are stained scarlet pressed and run down the centre of your tongue and then you show off the blood there. Tastes salty and iron and you then wrap your still red stained fingers around his shaft and pull him back into your mouth. Slowly blowing him again with the mess of spit and blood and he throws his head back with the loudest groan yet.

Camera abandoned on the counter as you pick up the pace. Stroking and sucking, harder, messier, fucking your throat with his cock of your own free will.

He can’t take it anymore. “Ohhh, fuuuuck, that’s it-”

He pulls you off roughly and shoves you to the ground, dropping to his knees on top of you, forcing you how he wants you. Arms are over your head as he sits on your chest, one of his hands forcing your head down, other hand on his own cock.

He rubs his dick on your face, smears more of your blood on it.

“This is all your fault, you know that, right? How am I supposed to hold back around you when you look like this?” The mix of spit and blood and your tears has him harder than he’s been in God knows how long.

“Hope you aren’t gonna miss these.”

He pulls back and gets between your legs, his knee comes down on one of your thighs to help hold it open and he uses that knife, cuts up the leggings you had on. He rips the crotch open with both hands and then cuts your panties in the middle, exposing your dripping wet cunt to him. Gloves fingers run though your folds, you’re soaked and you shift with a small moan, fuck, leather shouldn’t feel that good.

“You are SUCH a slut, I fucking knew it!” His thumb presses and rubs over your clit and you bite back a moan, back of his hand smacks your inner thigh, hard, and you look up at him, he points at you again with that knife, makes your breath catch. His other hand still between your legs, thumb swirling around your clit as he says, “Don’t! Do that shit. I better hear you, understand?”

You nod shakily and he says, “Good.”

He moves off of you and reposes you again until you are face down ass up. He was so rough when he did it, then again, why would he care for your comfort in this?

He has one of your arms twisted behind your back to allow him to keep the upper hand, as if you can do much right now to stop him.

He lines up and sinks inside of you with one long stroke that has him releasing a loud and long moan and makes you inhale sharply at the stretch of him inside.

He watches as he enters you, disappearing into your drenched hole. His hips are resting on your ass as he is fully inside of you, soaking in the feeling of you. He breathes out, “Goddamn.”

You clench around him and he groans out your name, rocking in and out once and you moan, genuine and so hot and he takes then. Grip on your wrist tightens as he sets the pace, brutal and unrelenting as he fucks your own blood into you.

You feel so good, just hot and soaked, he is not holding back at all, why would he after waiting for long?

Loud moans, and panting out broken dirty talk as he is holding your head down, one cheek to the floor, knife gripped in his fist as he ruts into you, pulling you back onto him with the hand that is on your wrist. “Stupid, fuck-ing slut. Look at you! Drooling on the floor-”

It didn’t take long to get to that point, lost in sensation and being vocal right along with him. You are moaning incoherently, panting really hard yourself. “Worthless bitch, this is alll you are good for, fuck! Lucky you have such a sweet cunt.”

The way he has you is killing you, he is hitting that sweet spot perfectly, you feel like you are drowning in pure pleasure, the way he is talking down to you is only adding to it.

You are a moaning mess, shifting and squirming, not fighting back but just unable to stay still because of how good it feels.

He feels it. You are actually getting close, and so fast! He can’t believe it and so he acts on instinct and makes fun of you.

"Holy shit, no way-” He pants out, another hard thrust that has you gasping, “-you're actually gonna fucking cum from this?"

You moan something that sounds akin to a yes, eyes nearly rolling back and your sweaty fingers barely able to gain purchase on the floor below you.

He laughs breathlessly at that, this is so fucking perfect, too perfect, he spits out "Beg for it."

You do.

You beg pathetically to cum on a murders cock, you don’t care about anything else, the only important thing in this moment is getting off and satisfying yourself. “Please, shit, please, lemme cum, wanna cum so-so bad, please, please-”

And he lets you.

“Do it.” You cum hard on his dick, strangled moan pouring out of your panting mouth. You haven’t cum this hard in forever, gush around him and it makes him groan. You think he is still degrading you, something about you being a bitch you think but your ears are ringing and who cares when you are riding this high.

He isn't far behind.

He crushes you. Pins you hard. Knife to your throat with his arm around you, he might slit your throat as he cums inside of you, would he though? You fear he would but what can you do to stop him?

His other hand in between your legs, rubbing your clit sloppily, you came so recently, you’re too sensitive, it hurts. You can't control how your hips buck or how your walls squeeze him, this is just what he wanted, "Fuck-choking me, so good, gonna fucking cum in you-"

Your walls squeeze him again and you moan weakly. His grip on the knife tightens, "You want that?"

You nod frantically, panting out, “-yes, yes, yes-” over and over again and he finally spills.

His hips grind into your ass, and he cums deep in you, groaning out into your ear, "Goooood girl."

You felt like it.

You also felt like a wreck.

Blood and sweat and cum. Heaving and so hot. He slowly pulls out, you feel his hand on your ass, spreading you open, you feel his cum leaking out and he spanks you lightly.

You take a deep breath before asking, "Did, haaa, did I do good?"

He responds amusedly as he snaps a picture of your abused and cum leaking hole, "Good enough to live to see another day."

You are there on the ground. You feel and hear him get up, hear him walk away and you stay there, recovering. Can’t even think about everything that just happened, much too spent for that.

You then feel his hands again. Adjusting you to a much more comfortable position,rolling you onto your back, a warm and wet cloth starting to wipe away the streaks of red. You are looking up at him now and he still has the mask on. You say softly, "Hi."

He can't help letting out a little laugh, shake of his head as he responded, "Hi."

He is still wiping you down as he says, "You seem like you're doing just fine."

You roll your wrists and stretch as you said, "Yes I am. I get to live another day."

He is sitting back on his heels as he looks you over, admiring the already forming bruises and marks and the hurt he inflicted on you as he asks, "You ever worry you won't be good enough for that one day?"

You scoff and laugh as you sit up, cock of your head as you say, "What do you think I'm masturbating to when you're creeping on me?"

He lets out a soft groan at that, "This is why I fucking love you." his hands on your arms pulling you to him.

How could you not be his favourite?

[hoodoobarbie]

The mythology of the Siren, Mermaid, Water Spirits & Mami Wata and it’s origins within black feminity.

Today I had to listen to other another black woman rant about how mermaids/sirens/mami wata are evil low key. So this educational post was born in response. 

Did you really think the divine essence of the black feminine wouldn’t protect itself ? That energy exists for a reason.  Suddenly it’s evil, to have teeth and protect yourself from predators. Water is a precious resource. You will be tested to see if you are deserving of it or not. Also these spirits will defend natural resources so they don’t get fucked up by human greed. 

It’s common for some places in Africa for people to offer the Sirens/Mami Wata/Water spirits or make an offerings/contracts with them in order to use the resources on their land. It also keeps the white ppl away too because they cause so much trouble.

Sirens are also associated with being the killers of children and men, but often this is completely misrepresented intentionally.

Men fear the power of the siren because she can override the patriarchy at core and can completely unravel them. The orgins of many water spirits lie in matriachal societies, temples divine feminine and motherhood. This is why temples and sacred magikal knowledge was intentionally destroyed and stolen, especially to empower the white patriarch.

Sirens are also described as thiefs of children and child killers. Sirens have been known to kidnap kids who were being abused or have were murdered near water and take them to their kingdom to restore them.

Sometimes the child returns, sometimes they are not. However in general they are big on kidnapping people, mostly women and giving them powers, if they decide to return. The idea of them eating and killing children, was a lie perpetuated by Greeks to cover up some truly horrific acts. Unfortunate these false accusations have been allowed to continue to perpetuate.

If a siren is acting in a predatory way, there is a reason why as their energy as been disturbed. Sirens are natural guardians. 

So the real question is . . . what did you do ? Did you destroy their habitat ? Abuse a child or a person ? Commit an egregious act against a woman ie rape/murder etc ? Disrespect a sacred place, the land, the seas or rivers ? Steal precious resources that weren’t yours to take ?

These sacred traditions are more than just deities, spirits and our ancestors. All forms of ATR are access to our spiritual mind state as an entire community. When you move in Vodou, you can sense the whole of black consciousness and all of our problem spots, specifically  areas that need healing. 

Oxum-Oshun, Olokun, Yemaya, the Mami Wata, La Baliene, La Siren, Met Agwe, The Simbi - these are all spirits with a connection to waters. Water is life and has always been inherently associated feminine energy. I’m not going into detail about all these cross connections but let’s chat about La Sirene, specifically.

La Sirene, Queen of all Mermaids is more than just a powerful sorceress and queen of song/music and dreams, she is also a keeper of secrets an a guardian of sacred memories & knowledge.

Many of the souls of slaves, from the Transatlantic slave trade that were thrown off the boats into the ocean are her children, citizens and warriors now. She comforts them eternally & they live in paradise. That doesn’t mean all of these souls are at rest, plenty continuously ask their mother if they will be avenged, especially the young children. She also has a close connection with the Indigenous Taino. The isle of Hispaniola also known as Haiti (Ayiti) & the Dominican Republic is her most known domain. 

Let’s not act like slavery and colonization was a cake walk. Rape was common place and mermaids, water spirits offered African and Indigenous women protection and power over men. They became demonized overtime for their hypnotic powers and killing men, who often overstepped their boundaries. Women could leave offerings to these spirits, work or commune with them and be quickly avenged or gain great power and wealth. All of this was threatening to the white patriarchal standard.

La Sirene’s presence in Haiti and other merfolk tales that float around the Caribbean/West Indies, is not without purpose. She has ties to many people and many different cultures. Her sacred symbols are global. This is why I speculate she is much older than people think. La Sirene, is a fairly young evolution. She clearly has ties to much older things. Her older names might have been lost but she has evolved, to save her self and also document other forgotten elements of history in the process. There are those who speculate that La Sirene is the embodiment of a cross mixed culture, the evolution of Indigenous & African water spirits combined, due to the excess trauma of colonization and so the Mermaid Queen was born. Others will argue that she is the Orisha Yemaya but a newer avatar of her.  I hate to argue semantics but I will say this, she exists and her presence is felt to this day, all around the world. 

La Sirene is often depicted as a mulatto woman with eyes like the sea but if you have been blessed to see her in dream state, she does appear sometimes as a brown or dark skinned skinned woman of possibly mixed Indigenous/African ancestry with glowing hypnotic eyes.  Alot of her older depictions, deal with colorism and slavery, but as things have grown in the modern world this imagery has begun to change. However mermaids, are known for their shapeshifting powers - to truly behold her true form, is a gift reserved for the rare few. 

As a keeper of the mysteries, La Sirene also access to many forgotten things in the black subconscious. The element of water is an intensely psychic sign.  Water is her domain, and what is the human body 80% of? WATER! The truth does not hide from her hypnotic eyes. This sacred connection to water and her essence, also means you can  track forgotten elements black history and connect to other deities/cultures who’ve had contact with her & her whole court or other black water spirits as a whole. So let’s take a short historical trip down memory lane.

The Greeks & Black women. Sirens, Aphrodite, Sibyls and other Children of Water 🧜🏾‍♀️

The deity Aphrodite/Venus is of Grecian and Roman legend.  

A little known magikal fact is that Aphrodite/Venus is half siren. She is a child of the water, she was literally birthed this way after Uranus got his balls cut off & thrown into the sea. Much of her Venusian influence and powers of love and beauty come from this element. Now my Mambo doesn’t like mentioning it but Aphrodite, is tolerated by the oceanic court of sirens/mermaids. Any child of water, falls under the domain of the queen. La Sirene has a sort of strange fondness for her and so does Aphrodite for her. However this doesn’t mean they are best friends.  It’s tentative friendship at best and comes with some perks. Aphrodite works quickly for children of water sirens and often will send mermaids to her devotees who misbehave. She has deliberately placed me around her people have pissed her off, to cause mischief. She’s quite petty but also  very generous. I won’t go as far to dare and say she is in the queen’s court, but she does curry favor with the queen. Being born of water, her half siren/mermaid influence has definitely attributed to legends of her beauty in myth but also her treachery with men 🧜🏾‍♀️😂. She clearly also has some sort of homesickness for the world underneath the water, because many of her offerings are gifts of pearls, kisses, sea shells, beauty products etc. Anyone who serves the Mermaid Queen knows the meaning behind those gifts. If you’re a black gyal with water or siren energy and decide to work with Aphrodite, do it!  If you ever irritate her, the least she’ll do is give you pimples and fuck up your skin, she won’t have the full power to completely fuck up your love life like she does with the white girls.  And let me tell you, she has completely ruined some white girls lives by giving them terrible lovers or men.  

The trident 🔱 is known for its connection in Greek and Hindu cultures.  However La Sirene or other African water spirits are depicted carrying it, which is largely ignored in the occult world.

You can track the trident in Hinduism, with the serpent spirits, the nagas or Lord Shiva but let’s focus on it’s Grecian connection. The usage of the trident and Poseidon, even in mainstream society today is associated with him.  This lets us know there is a connection between the mermaids, merfolk and La Sirene/African water spirits. Poseidon’s trident was rumored to made in Athens by the Cyclops - this is the city of Athena. So now we can track an element of black history all the way to Poseidon & Athena. Keep that in your thoughts we’ll come back to that later.

Tridents were also used ceremonially in Africa & India as well, as scepters, tribal weapons and religious symbols.

They were also associated with the sea faring people and fishing. It’s highly likely the origins of the trident are cross mixed between these two societies. Indo-African relations, go back to the Bronze age and the Indus Valley civilization. Which means traveling over by sea to reach each other was necessary. There is historical evidence of African millet being found in a Indian city Chanhudaro, including a cemetary or burial ground for African women.  Maritime relations between these two groups existed before Grecian & the Egyptian Ptolemaic dynasties.

Now of course there are some deranged historians that will try to whitewash history and say the trident has its origins from the labyrs but the Ancient Greeks & Africans/Indians interacted regularly. The trident also looks nothing like a labyrs, which is quite literally a double sided axe.  This is one of the more painful obvious pieces of white washing and historical revisionism. 

Regardless, the trident is associated with water, ceremonial/religious purposes, fishing, battling in the coliseum and the symbol of power for a few African,  Black diasporian an Hindu deities.

🧜🏾‍♀️ Oracles & Sibyls

Some sibyls/oracles were known to be African prophetesses/Mamissi to the Mami Wata/Sirens in Africa, some were stolen or captured by Greeks or Romans, sold into slavery and made to be oracles, some of whom became quite famous in legend. Their connection to these water spirits, is what gave them their gift of prophecy. Not every sibyl or oracle was African but SOME were.  This lead to the sharing and theft of sacred knowledge. It’s likely these women shared this sacred information, with their colleagues, some whom may or may not have been enslaved or kept in these temple and likely this information was traded, for their freedom, power or money etc. This gave way to the usage of sacred spirits and magick being used by men. A great example of this is the snake spirits of the genii, genius spirits (not to be mistaken with genies) and which then evolved into a diluted lesser energy in Greek society being known as daemons (not to be confused with goetic demons) Instead of a woman commanding these specific energies/spirits, the patriarchs decided that these specifics powers were only worthy of being used by men. These spirits were whitewashed, adopted into their religious practices and said to only be given to men at birth. No woman was allowed to possess them anymore.

🧜🏾‍♀️ The whitewashing of Medusa & Lamia. 

In mainstream society these two women stories have been white washed but also to hide a very shameful history and narrative. These two were beautiful women, in older stories of black black mythology were known to be black and they were children of water & daughters of the powerful water spirit/snake/siren divine mother/feminine goddess. 

Medusa was raped by the GREECIAN GOD OF THE SEA, POSEIDON  and Athena covered it up, refused to avenge her and punished her by making her ugly to everyone. It’s speculated in several magikal circles that the snakes in her hair were actually dreads, due to their lack of understanding of black hair and also allegorically might have been a reference to her devotion to the fish or water snake, great mother goddess. A child of the divine feminine, mother goddess was assaulted in a temple by a man and a woman covered it up & celebrated it.

Let’s start there ... cuz this story says a lot! It’s one of the first historical cases  in myth that really documents the issues that surround the black feminine specifically and it was intentionally whitewashed. Then to add insult to injury, Athena made her hideous to all men and her chopped off her head and used as a symbol of protection but also a subtle sign of disrespect to the fullest. This still goes on to this day.

In fact ALGOL, the demon star, which is considered to be strongest protective magick talisman in the occult world today is the HEAD OF MEDUSA. The child of water! BITCH! This energy is invoked constantly and the spirit of medusa is never allowed to rest.

However these egregious acts did not come without a price. Athena at time was a goddess of fertility. However desecrating a child of water or the sirens, is seen as an attack by the divine feminine and can will cause people to be afflicted with fertility and other mental health issues as well. This is speculative but it’s also likely that after this they were constantly visited by droughts, floods or repeating issues with water sanitation & purity after this. Lowered fertility rates and miscarriages might be more prominent, for Athenians and Athena devotees & likely continues to this day.

Devotees of Athena may also develop severe issues when it to their mental health because of this connection. They completely lose touch with their feminine energy and become extremely misogynistic after continued work with her.

Not only did Athena, cause Medusa to be seen as hideous throughout the land but she celebrated when she was murdered and proudly wore Medusa’s decapitated head on her shield. From the feminist eye this virgin deity/woman was extremely male identified and adhered to the patriarchal standard. She was tested by the divine feminine and failed.

Even more strange, Athena’s birth allegorically proclaims her essential character: her wisdom is drawn from the head of a male god; the bond of affection between father and daughter; her championship of heroes and male causes, born as she was from the male, and not from a mother’s womb. A dreaded goddess of war, she remained a virgin and a servant of the patriarchal society and remains so to this day. She is the misogynistic cool girl and very asexual at the core. In fact if you explore more of her mythos, it becomes very clear she hates women. I’m bewildered at how she has become associated with lesbians and the feminine at large, when it’s been very clear that she was intent on transcending her gender from the very beginning, but never managed to escape it.  

To top it off, I’ll leave you with this quote from Aeschylus’ Oresteia by Athena:

“There is no mother anywhere who gave me birth, and, but for marriage, I am always for the male with all my heart, and strongly on my father’s side. So, in a case where the wife has killed her husband, lord of the house, her death shall not mean most to me.”

Queen Lamia was a said to incredible beauty who seduced Zeus, (a literal man whore) which as made Hera jealous. Hera cursed Lamia with infertility and insomnia. She went insane and is said to have killed her own children and ate them. Zeus is said to be the one who gifted her prophecy and gave her the ability to take out her eyes, so she would not be irritated at the site of other happy mothers.

She became associated with a child eating monster who was half woman and half snake, which ties into the Libyan snake cults. She was associated with phantoms, the shapshifting laimai or empusai and the daemon spirits.

Medusa and Lamia were Libyan by heritage and came from a place in Africa where temples to the water snake mother goddess & divine feminine were common before they were destroyed by invaders intentionally. These women likely had extreme gifts of seduction, mind control and other abilities etc. It’s highly likely that Queen Lamia used her powers of seduction, at the behest of her people to save them from colonization and was demonized for it. Zeus’s temple was in Cyrene in Lybia, so this is far more than an allegorical story. This may be a real life story that was disguised in mythos. Unfortunately deeper research into this subject has turned up many dead ends for me. It’s highly likely Medusa was a priestess of the the matriarchal Mami Watas or water goddess/snake spirits and was likely raped intentionally in Athena’s temple, as a show loyalty to the rising patriarchy by descrating the symbolism of the great mother and the divine feminine. This was likely an attempt to lessen power and status of the matriachal societies that existed at the time. Rape was common war tactic amongst colonizers and news of such disgrace would likely spread like wildfire. This also solidified Athena’s place amongst the male gods and gaining her their respect. Athena and her devotees went a step further to show their allegiance to the patriarchy, by stripping Medusa of her beauty supposedly and exiling her, then parading her decapitated head on shields, when going into battle likely with Libyan enemies.

This is just a brief explanation of a few horrific acts in history, which were whitewashed & explain why the essence of the black feminine has evolved to become more protective, predatory and fierce. She learned to defend herself. Now she kills those who threaten her. 

Fun history tip: Usually anytime you see a snake in Grecian mythology, just know something got whitewashed, because the truth was really fucked up, made them look really bad & a black woman was there.

🧜🏾‍♀️ The black feminine is capable of more than you know.

Yes, mermaids/sirens/snakes & the mami watas can be scary at times but that’s what stepping into mysticism of deep waters is like. Water is capable of many things, it is one of the most powerful elements on earth. It can nourish you and kill you, and that’s the beauty of it really.

We should all be grateful the black feminine is so beautiful, fierce & scares the living daylights out of everyone.

You would be dead if it wasn’t.

[aithorin]

Chasing You - Thranduil x Reader

Plot: Imagine overhearing Thranduil’s conversation with Tauriel and running away

A/N-This fic is also posted on AO3 under the same username. I will insert a link to it below. However, this is also a slightly different version as I’ve made a couple of edits. I’ll post the updated version eventually on AO3, but for now this is the only edited version. Also, some of the lines in this are from the movies, so as a disclaimer, I do not own any recognizable content.

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823933

Slight NSFW Warning!

The hooves of your horse thundered in your ear as you pushed it to gallop quickly throughout Mirkwood. All around, the sickened trees passed in a blur, and yet somehow they still managed to loom over you, mocking your troubles with their height. You hunched closer to your horse, looking for comfort, and threaded your fingers throughout its mane. The wind burned at your eyes, causing tears of a completely different kind to well. They mingled with the ones symbolic of your heartbreak, mixing so thoroughly that they became indistinguishable from one another. The wind pulled at both, tugging at them as they trekked down your face. The tears disappeared into the air behind you, the wind having successfully stolen them.

So distracted by your thoughts, you didn’t even notice how the wind had prematurely dried the tear tracks along your face, pinching the skin slightly underneath. All you could focus on was Thranduil. Just the thought of his name sent a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, blurring your vision even more. Moments from your relationship flashed through your mind, and confusion merged with your hurt. You just didn’t understand. All this time he had seemed so genuine. To find out it was all a farce so suddenly only made your anguish sharper. There were no suspicions at all; you had been happy, and you thought that he had been happy too. But as a sob escaped your mouth, you realized that maybe some things weren’t meant to be. Echoes of the conversation you had accidently heard rang throughout your mind, and agony grappled at your heart as you thought about Thranduil’s betrayal.

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

Having finished your chores for the day, you hurried toward the throne room hoping to catch a moment alone with Thranduil. It was difficult to spend time with him considering your relationship was a secret, so every spare moment you had to sneak with him was precious. As you passed by a corridor, muffled voices floated through the air causing your footsteps to slow to a halt. Curious, you crept towards the sound, excitement filling you as you recognized Thranduil’s voice. It was perfect! You’d just wait for him to finish and then maybe you could spend a few moments together. But as the muffled noise turned into clear voices, your excitement quickly diminished as a deep hurt took root within your heart.

“Legolas said you fought well today… he has grown very fond of you.” Thranduil’s deep baritone resonated throughout the room.

A few moments passed before Tauriel stammered, “I assure you my lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a captain of the guard.”

“Perhaps he did once...now I’m not so sure.” Thranduil sneered.

“I do not think…  you would allow your son to pledge himself to a lowly silvan elf.” Tauriel stuttered back.

“No, you’re right. I would not.” Thranduil declared, “Still… he cares about you. Do not give him hope where there is none”

At his words, a gasp left your mouth as your heart plummeted. Both of their heads snapped in your direction, but by then you had already turned and fled down the hall. Tears welled in your eyes as you began to understand the meaning behind his words. You were no different than Tauriel. In fact, you were inferior to her being that your station in life was that of a maid. If Legolas couldn’t pledge himself to the esteemed captain of the guard, then there was no hope that Thranduil would ever truly pledge himself to you either. All this time, you were nothing more than a fling to Thranduil, maybe even less. Did he see your feelings as a game, something to be toyed with? The conviction with which Thranduil spoke his words told you more than you ever needed to know. It was obvious he didn’t share in any of the things you felt. A choke escaped your throat as you realized your relationship was nothing but a lie.

Fleeing from the corridor, you ran to the comfort of your room. The door to your chambers creaked open, and light from the hall seeped through to illuminate it. As you stepped inside, you looked slowly around the room. Nothing seemed right anymore. You felt as though you were suffocating, and with a sudden clarity you knew what you had to do. You had to leave. The thought of staying in Mirkwood made you nauseous. Having to stay and look at Thranduil everyday, knowing that he never cared about you, would only break your heart over and over again. Leaving was the only way you had any hope of moving on. You quickly gathered what meager belongings you had, and hurried towards the stables. Climbing on top of the nearest horse, you saddled your pack and took off without a backward glance.

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

The trees of Mirkwood continued to whiz by, the tears continuously spilling from your eyes creating a distorted view of your surroundings. Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to make sense of the situation.

‘How could he do this to me? I loved him! I gave him everything. My heart, my mind, my trust, my body, everything, and yet in the end he didn’t care at all. It was nothing but a game to him.’ A choked, bitter laugh escaped through the sobs erupting from your throat. Everything just hurt; your heart felt tight, a huge lump in your throat made it difficult to breathe, and your eyes were swollen and tired from crying.

Why, why would he do this to you! You never thought he could be so cruel. Lost in the river of your despair, you failed to notice the sound of legs scurrying across the forest floor until it was too late.

A rustle of leaves sounded to your left before a giant spider leapt from behind the brush causing your horse to rear up in fright. The sudden change in gravity threw you from its back, causing your backside to hit the floor with a hard thud, knocking the breath from you. Letting out a wheeze as you attempted to regain your breath, you looked up just in time to see your horse let out a loud whine before bolting back in the direction you came. By then, the giant spider had turned its attention towards you and moved with a speed that surprised even your elven senses. You scurried back on all fours in terror, the dead leaves crunching beneath your hands. All too soon though, your path became blocked by one of the towering, ill trees that resided in the forest. Still, your arms flailed as you tried to get away, but the spider continued to advance, slowly trapping you in your place. Your breath started to quicken, and terrified gasps resounded throughout the forest. This was it. You were going to die in the forest alone, with the knowledge that no one had ever really loved you. A few stray tears escaped your eyes as you realized just how pathetic you really were. By now the spider loomed above you, its pincers poised above you, ready to strike. Ominous hisses spewed from its mouth, and you squeezed your eyes shut, unwilling to watch it deliver the killing blow. Having accepted your fate, your body relaxed, and you waited for the world you knew to be no more.

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

“I want the watch doubled at our borders. All roads. All rivers. Nothing moves but I hear of it. No one enters this kingdom and no one leaves it.” Thranduil ordered, an unspoken warning in his tone, before walking away with a swish of his cloak.

No sooner had he left the throne room was he stopped by a servant.

“Forgive the intrusion my lord, but I couldn’t help overhearing your order and…” The elleth hesitated.

“Out with it, you insolent child! I don’t have all day! You’ve already overstepped your boundaries, don’t push them anymore.” Thranduil said, his patience growing thin.

“Well,” she began, “it’s just...I’m worried about (Y/N). When I stopped by our shared room all of her belongings were gone. I think she went into the forest, but she hasn’t come back. Will she be able to get back into the kingdom with your order?”

At the mention of your name, Thranduil’s blood turned ice cold in his veins. Where could you have possibly gone, and with all of your belongings too? You wouldn’t just leave without telling him, and you knew better than to go into the forest alone. You weren’t trained in the art of combat, and there were too many dangers that lurked in the forest these days. Thranduil’s mind became laced with panic as he ran through all of the possible things that could have happened to you. Were you lost? Injured? Dead? At that last thought, Thranduil swallowed as a hard lump of fear developed in his throat. He had to find you. Now.

He turned to look at the elleth, the cool facade on his face betraying none of the inward worry that he held.

“As king it is my duty to see to the safety and wellbeing of all that dwell within my kingdom. As such, I will personally see to it that (Y/N) is brought back home safe and unharmed.”

At his words, the elleth visibly relaxed. “Thank you my lord. You are most generous and kind.” With a nod of her head, the elleth bowed her head before walking away to return to her duties.

Thranduil turned to the nearest guard. “You,” he said, “Ready my elk. We leave at once.”

“Yes my lord.”

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

Thranduil raced through the forest, looking for any sign of a trail. Suddenly, a lone horse came barreling in their direction, rearing in a panic. The small group of guards he had with him leaped in front to calm it down.

Grabbing its reins, Thranduil inspected the horse, noticing a pack saddled to its back. Peering inside, he saw your possessions and his expression turned grim. Without a word, he swung back onto his elk and charged down the path the horse came from.

Galloping along the path, Thranduil prayed that you were okay. He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to you. Meeting you had breathed new life into him. For the first time since his wife died, he actually felt happy, something his own son couldn’t even provide him. Every beat of his heart was dedicated solely to you, and if you were to be taken from him like his wife was, he didn’t think he would ever be able to recover.

Deep in the forest now, Thranduil was beginning to doubt that he’d be able to find you when he heard noises coming from off the path. The hiss of a spider, leaves crackling as someone scrambled. His eyes widened as he realized a spider was attacking someone. Jumping from his elk, Thranduil’s footsteps pounded as he ran, and the sound of metal scraping could be heard as he drew his sword. Bursting into a clearing, he saw a giant spider above someone, poised to kill whoever was trapped. As the spider went in for the killing blow so did Thranduil. Fortunately, Thranduil was faster, and blood spurted as he drove his sword into the spider’s back. The spider howled in pain, limbs flailing as the life slowly drained from it along with its blood. All too soon, the spider dropped dead, and Thranduil hurried to push it off of whoever was trapped beneath it.

Rolling the spider’s body to the side, Thranduil was met with the sight of you curled tightly, hugging your knees to your chest with your eyes clenched shut. Dried tear tracks painted your cheeks, and visible tremors shook your body. Thranduil kneeled next to you as a big weight lifted from his chest. You were alive! Scared and shaken but alive. He had made it to your side in time, albeit he was cutting it a bit close.

Right in front of you, Thranduil slowly reached out to place a gentle hand on your shoulder. At his touch, you jumped and started to shake even harder, your eyes still shut tight.

“Meleth nin,” he spoke softly, “Open your eyes. I am here, and you are safe.”

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

“Meleth nin” you heard a soft voice whisper, “Open your eyes. I am here, and you are safe.”

At the sound of his voice, you wanted to let out a sob. It sounded just like him, but you knew that it couldn’t be Thranduil. There was no way that Thranduil was in front of you. He was back at the palace, most likely atop his throne, while you were here, probably bleeding out from a spider bite. That was it you reasoned. You had been bitten by the spider, and now you were going delirious from its venom before you died. It was the only explanation. He didn’t love you. You didn’t want to open your eyes. If you did the illusion would be shattered. At least this way you could pretend that you wouldn’t die alone, and that your love was here.

But when his hand started to shake your shoulder, the possibility that maybe he actually was here started to seem more like a reality. You reluctantly opened your eyes to see his cerulean ones staring into yours, deep with concern. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold him, but with the threat of death looming over you gone, you remembered why you left in the first place. You snatched your wandering arms back and lowered your eyes as more tears suddenly welled in your eyes. ‘He isn’t mine’, you reminded yourself, ‘he never was’. Having him be so close yet at the same time so far made your heart clench painfully in your chest.

“Melamin, are you alright? I was so worried I had lost you.” Thranduil whispered.

Deciding to ignore the endearment, you chose to answer the way your relationship now demanded. That of a respectful servant addressing her king. Still looking down at your feet, you replied meekly, “Yes, your majesty. Thank you for rescuing me. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

At your words, his eyes squinted ever so slightly in confusion. Why were you talking to him like that, as though you were just another one of his subjects? Something else was wrong. You couldn’t even look at him. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the few guards surrounding the clearing leaving just the two of you.

“What is wrong meleth nin? Why can’t you look at me?”

The continued endearments caused the sob that had been stuck in your throat to escape. Why did he insist on continuing the game? Was it not enough that he had taken your heart? Must he continue to squeeze it as well? How spiteful could he be to insist on calling you that?

“Please,” you whispered “Do not continue to jest. My heart cannot take it.”

Thranduil grabbed your hands and with the sudden movement, you finally tilted your head to meet his gaze. Seeing your heartbroken face, he felt his own heart twinge within his chest. He could feel you slipping away and with every passing minute he feared that he would not be able to get you back. “I don’t understand,” he pleaded, “Whatever it is that I have done, tell me, and I will not rest until I have eased your mind.”

His words made your head droop in despair. So he was going to continue to feign ignorance until he could break your heart and see your expression for himself. His insisted cruelty caused the first seeds of anger to break through the dam of your heartbreak. Thranduil might have shattered your heart, but you’d be damned before you’d let him see the effects. You’d get through this conversation, and then part from Mirkwood and put this chapter of your life behind you.

With your newfound determination, you looked at him with your face hard and eyes steely. “Do not think me so naive that I will continue to play along with your game, my lord. You may have fooled me once, but I refuse to let you do so again. You can cease your act of mocking love and concern. Please, just go back to the palace and have a laugh about the foolish maid who believed that a king could ever possibly care for her, and I will be on my way.”

Thranduil stared at you in bewilderment. Where was all of this coming from? Just this morning, everything was fine, and in that short time you now doubted his love for you. What could have possibly happened?

“Whoever has planted this seed of doubt in your mind will wish that they had never opened their mouth,” Thranduil swore gravelly, “I do not know what has caused this skepticism, but know that my feelings for you are honest and true.” He lifted your hands enclosed in his to place a soft kiss upon them.

Looking into his eyes, you were tempted to believe him. He seemed so earnest, but the words that he spoke earlier rang through your mind, “Do not give him hope where there is none”, and your temptations were banished. You let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. YOU were the one who made your feelings toward me clear as day, no one else. If you cannot bring yourself to be honest about anything else, then at least take responsibility for revealing your true feelings about me.”

“I do not know what you speak of!” Letting go of you, he stood from the forest floor and began to circle the clearing in frustration. “Care to enlighten me?”

Crossing your arms, you stood with him. “I heard you. Earlier, in the corridor with Tauriel. With it, the veil from my eyes was lifted, and I am now able to see this relationship for what it is: a complete and utter lie.”

He spun around to face you. “That had absolutely nothing to do with you! It was about Legolas. It, in no way, concerned how I feel about you.”

“It had everything to do with me.” you spoke softly. “If the prince is not allowed to pledge himself to Tauriel, the esteemed captain of the guard, where does that leave me? I am a servant my lord, the lowest of the low, and if the prince cannot be with someone who is far above my own station, why would the king of all people do any different?”

You turned to face him, and saw a guilt stricken look cross into Thranduil’s eyes as he realized the implication of his words.

“Forgive me Meleth. I did not realize the severity of my words when I spoke.” He apologized. He crossed the clearing to stand in front of you. Gently grabbing your shoulders, he looked deep into your eyes, “My feelings for you are earnest and unchanging. You have reminded me what happiness looks like. When you came into my life, I saw glimmers of light that I had not seen since my wife died. The first time I looked into your eyes, my heart thawed and began to beat within my chest again. You are the one who has breathed life back into me.”

Shrugging his hands off, you turned away from him.  “Be that as it may, you must believe it someplace deep inside otherwise you would not have spoken as you did. If it really was a mistake, then you would not care if Tauriel and Legolas were together, but you do.”

“No!” Thranduil protested, “I did not realize how selfish I was being when I spoke with Tauriel. If Legolas wishes to be with her so be it. I do not care.” Turning you back around, he gently cupped your cheek and tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “How could I care if it would cost me you?” He whispered.

Staring into his eyes filled with nothing but love, you felt the weight on your chest slowly begin to lift for the first time in hours. Perhaps there was hope after all. Yet as your overwhelming emotions faded, your mind began to clear, leaving nothing but logic and the cold sting of reality as you reconsidered his earlier words. Casting your eyes to the ground, you said, “As much as it pains me to say it, it does not really matter whether you care or not. In many ways, the words you spoke held nothing but the truth. It’s foolish to believe that we can ever truly be together. I am a maid, and you are a king. This relationship has no future for you surely cannot pledge yourself to me. The people would never accept me as queen.”

Crossing your arms, you turned your back so that he would not be able to see the tears welling in your eyes. “We aren’t even truly together right now. We ignore each other around the presence of others, stealing hidden moments in the dead of night. Do you know how painful it is? To see you look at me so coldly, so uncaringly, in the light of day, yet share in the warmth of your embrace at night. It’s exhausting. Do you have any idea how much it makes my heart ache? All I want is the freedom to speak to you, comfort you, touch you, whenever I wish, but our relationship forbids it! I can’t even send you a simple smile when I pass you in the halls! Too often, I can see the stress of a wasted council meeting etched on your face, and I yearn to soothe you and share in your troubles but I cannot. I did not lie when I said your conversation with Tauriel lifted a veil from my eyes, but I can see that it's different from what I originally thought. I think it would be best for us to part ways right here, and that way we can both move on. Elves are immortal. If I left now, I would be but a flicker on the line that is your life. I’m sure it would not be too hard to forget me and our relationship.” you mumbled quietly.

Thranduil’s gaze turned fiery. “Do what you will. But know this, should you choose to leave this forest do not think for one second that I will ever forget you. Ten, a hundred, even thousands of years from now, I will ache for you every second of every day. Not once will you ever leave my mind.”

His gaze softened, “Please… come home, and I promise we will truly be together, no more sneaking around. I am not ashamed to be with you; we will walk the halls together and share in each other’s troubles as you wish.”

“But your advisors and the people-”

His eyes flashed, “Speak no more of it. Love has slipped from my grasp once before, and I refuse to allow it to again. I am the king of this realm, and if I wish to be with you then the people will have to accept it.”

Hearing his words, you wanted nothing more than to accept, but your doubt and insecurity still lingered near the surface. How could you accept when you knew that you would only hold him back? The people would not be happy, and it would lead to unrest in the kingdom. How could you be that selfish? You couldn’t tear apart an entire kingdom for your own happiness. To make matters worse you wouldn’t even be able to help Thranduil bring about peace. You were a servant for crying out loud; you knew nothing about diplomacy!

As an internal war waged within you, Thranduil noticed the doubt in your eyes holding you back. He could sense that you lied upon a threshold and with one little push, you would surrender your doubts and come back to him. Determined to give you that final push, he glided towards you. Lost within your mind, you didn’t even notice that he had started to move until he had pressed himself against your back. The feel of his hard chest against your back brought an immediate halt to the worries swirling within you. Time came to a complete standstill, and you held your breath in anticipation, nervous yet also excited to see what he would do.

Achingly slow, he lifted a hand to gently brush your hair back, baring your neck. With the back of his hand, he started to tenderly trace a path along the curve of your neck. The hand continued downward, skimming the curve of your breasts to reach its resting place on your belly. Your eyes fluttered closed again in appreciation, and without even realizing, you leaned slightly into him, unconsciously craving to be closer. He bent down, his breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Tell me Melamin, what troubles you so?”

You shivered as the heat of his breath hit your neck. As he started to pepper your jawline in featherlight kisses, your mind became clouded, but you still managed to share your doubts with him. “I still worry… of the people’s reaction… to our relationship.” you whispered.

Thranduil hummed in response and raised his hand to caress the other side of your jaw. He pressed himself even closer to you and with it a fire that only he could sate ignited within you. “Tell me, does it feel like I care for their reaction? Let go meleth, and I promise you everything will be fine.”

With that, he used his hand to tilt you toward him and leaned down to capture you in a kiss. It started sweet but soon an overwhelming need took over you. The kiss was transformed into a battle of passion, and you turned around to fully face him. Your hands trailed all over Thranduil’s body, sliding up his chest to eventually twist themselves into his hair. With a soft tug, you pulled him even closer to deepen the kiss. Your lungs burned for air, but you didn’t care. At that moment, all that mattered was him. With every second that passed, your doubts slowly melted away as thoughts of Thranduil consumed your mind. All you could focus on was the feel of his lips and his hands gliding over your hips. You wanted nothing more than to drown in the river of his love.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, you opened your eyes to gaze into his. Seeing the love and adoration he held for you in them, you allowed yourself to be drawn into the torrent, and you let go.

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

Afterwards, as you lay cuddled together on the forest floor, Thranduil reached down to entwine your hands together. Resting his head against your shoulder, he brushed a stray strand of hair out of the way and asked once again, “Come home, meleth nin?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you replied, “Yes.”

[shimmersing]

Constellation

Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Relationships: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Male Republic Trooper, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Republic Trooper Characters: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Qyzen Fess, Yuon Par, Parkanas Tark-Lord Vivicar Additional Tags: Angst, Tython, Emotional, Mentioned Mutual Pining, Fluffy, Sad, Melancholy Returning to Tython after shielding the last master suffering from Vivicar’s Force plague, Aitahea is faced with more struggle in her efforts to heal the Order and keep the Force in balance. Tired, injured, and longing for someone she can’t have, perhaps ever, the lines of her responsibility as a Jedi and her own convictions begin to blur. As Aitahea nears the end of her quest to save Yuon Par and the other Jedi Masters, she’s confronted with painful revelations and answers that only give rise to more questions. Shouldering the lives and minds of Jedi across the galaxy – alone – may prove to be more than Aitahea can bear.

Part Three

AN: I highly recommend you read Impending, a once-upon-a-oneshot that snuggles right into Constellation here, between parts two and three. Enjoy!

May the Force be with you.

Standing in the airlock, Aitahea let the echo of Erithon’s voice roll over and through her, like she might flow through saber stances during practice. Six syllables, like the spiral of a breath, a last sigh of hope to cling to in her fierce exhaustion and anguished determination.

It was the first time they’d spoken since Alderaan; everything else had been missed calls and quickly dashed-off messages. She’d mentioned her return to Tython, but not her weariness, loneliness, or how since leaving Alderaan, the only dream she’d remembered on waking was of him, humming Star by Star and stroking her hair. As far-flung as they’d been, she had doubted he’d see her injuries in a grainy holo.

Instead, she’d simply listened.

Erithon’s mother and sister had given him no end to their questions about the “princess” - as his youngest niece had gleefully declared - having seen their gala appearance splashed across the holonet. He’d explained with proud reticence that he had been harassed into calling to say hello for them, but he hoped she was doing well, of course.

See-Too had whirred politely in the common room entryway, a subtle warning that the other crew had begun stirring in response to their arrival. Aitahea had gently interrupted Erithon a final time, thanking him for calling, but she was needed urgently. He’d nodded, evidently used to the same, and then… “May the Force be with you.” She hadn’t even had a chance to reply, to wish him the same, before the call had disconnected, and she’d been alone again in the dark.

Minutes later, the Luminous had docked to Vivicar’s stolen ship, though Sia had only done so under protest.

“I don’t fucking like this, Ai.”

“There’s no other way, Sia. I trust you to keep the Luminous safe.”

“Yeah, me too, but what about you?”

Aitahea had pressed her lips into a tight line and turned away from her friend, unable to offer anything more to assuage Sia’s concern or her own guilt. The Progress had made all reports on time, presumably under Lord Vivicar’s control, so no one in the wider Republic knew that anything was awry.

Qyzen had refused to let her board alone, though she’d helplessly argued for it. They both knew she was still healing, only maintaining the shielding by a hair’s breadth. Vivicar’s ruinous intrusion on the ritual had done more damage than Aitahea had been willing to acknowledge. Sia had muttered under her breath something about needing to get a kolto tank installed in the med bay.

The Progress was shrouded in flickering darkness, the black of deep space. The stars still glittered, but coldly, distantly. Aitahea wasn’t certain what they’d find on board; there were many lives, but they writhed beneath a shadow grown powerful. Qyzen waited beside her as the airlock cycled to admit them to the hijacked ship.

The first rush of soldiers took her off guard; she flinched at the sight of Republic insignias below fevered eyes and slack faces. A growled warning from Qyzen brought her back to the task of disabling them with as little harm as possible.

It all horrified her, this perversion of so many things she held dear. The horrible stain of the dark side flowed on the ship and everyone aboard. She could barely hold it in check, growing steadily more vulnerable as her shielding was meticulously assaulted.

Vivicar was blessedly silent until Aitahea reached the first computer console. When he finally spoke, it was like being plunged into dark water. The consular reeled, fighting to keep her fingers on the control panel and not digging into her own temples.

I wasn’t sure if you’d be foolish enough to come aboard, Aitahea. But I can sense your presence.

Aitahea swallowed hard against a wave of nausea. “And I sense a man tormented by the past.”

You are blinded by the light side. You can’t understand what you face.

Biting back a sharp retort, Aitahea shoved away from the console – she didn’t possess the necessary slicing skill to coax open the blast doors from there. She could cut her way through the thick durasteel with her lightsaber, but time felt too precious.

Nearby were a few barrels, each with a combustion risk label splashed across it. She could fling them into the door using the Force, but it would be violent and destructive.

Oddly, Aitahea found she didn’t mind that so much right now and lifted a hand. The explosion was terrific, throwing back her hood. The wave of heat quickly grew so intense Aitahea had to shield herself and Qyzen until it abated.

As they stepped through the hissing, superheated breach, Vivicar’s voice echoed in a hateful thrum. Come to me, Jedi. I’ll show you how light can be snuffed out.

Aitahea swayed briefly, closing her eyes. There was no part of her that wasn’t in anguish. If this wasn’t already snuffed out, what could possibly be worse? She felt alarmingly close to knowing exactly what.

May the Force be with you.

It was Erithon’s voice this time, no tainted whispers, just her own beautiful memory. A light in the dark. She could follow that through this horrific present; through anything, perhaps. Aitahea opened her eyes, signaled her companion, and forged ahead.

Most of the unwitting fighters in their path could be stopped with a Force wave, tumbling them unconscious but mostly unharmed to the floor; but the squad leaders would be hardier – she knew from experience.

The first squad leader, a hulking being of indeterminate origin, was waiting for them at the first intersection, alone. The soldier didn’t fall for Qyzen’s feint and instead hoisted his cannon toward Aitahea, spraying cryogenic fluid. She flicked it away, readying her lightsaber to deflect any shots from the holdout blaster she knew he’d be hiding.

Qyzen shifted into an effortless and decisive strike, taking advantage of a seam in the trooper’s armor. Aitahea shuddered, feeling the soldier’s perception flare out, leaving nothing but gleeful darkness seething in every shadow.

“Herald?”

“I’m fine,” she bit out. “Let’s proceed.”

After navigating a few more hallways, they located the secondary computer terminal. She’d barely set her fingers to the keypad when Vivicar splintered her thoughts.

Tell me, Aitahea, what was it like? Letting your life force drain away to shield a stranger from me - how did it feel?

Aitahea frowned at her suddenly balled-up fists, unclenching and resettling her fingers on the keys before replying. “Painful, but I endured it.”

Pain makes us stronger. And the pain I have endured is beyond your comprehension.

That is why I have won.

Her throat seized, but even after swallowing hard, no words came to her, all her skillful, diplomatic platitudes absent.

“Hunt is not over until beast is skinned, dark thing,” Qyzen rumbled. The console began blaring a klaxon warning, and droids began pouring into the room.

You will understand soon. If you live that long.

“Your power and tactics have brought you this far, but no further.”

Until now, Aitahea had imagined Parkanas Tark as a youth, bright with potential and the Force. But the being that turned to face her as she dragged herself toward the bridge was aged, wretched, and twisted by the dark side.

“This battle was decided before you stepped aboard.”

“I’m tired of your delusions,” Aitahea hissed, past exhaustion and numb with pain. “Explain yourself.”

Vivicar gave her a mocking bow. “As you wish. My plague isn’t just a disease; it siphons power from its victims. With the proper rituals, that power can be channeled. Soon, the combined strength of your Masters will make me the most powerful Force adept who has ever lived.”

The pressure against her shielding intensified, thousands of threads – lives, she realized – suddenly pulled taut. Trembling with the strain, Aitahea took a step forward. She hadn’t come here to bicker; she’d come here to help.

“Turn away from this path, Parkanas. The Order can help you.”

Vivicar laughed.

“Oh, Aitahea.” This time, she visibly flinched when he used her name. “Parkanas Tark died long ago. Even ‘Vivicar’ is merely a skin to be shed. Parkanas offered himself to me on Malachor Three, to crush the Order that destroyed us. He embodied my spirit.” He lifted his hands, a seething glow thick with the dark side writhing around him. “I am no lost Jedi, no ordinary Sith Lord. I am Terrak Morrhage.”

“You can turn away from this path, Parkanas,” she beseeched, fumbling for words while he stalked toward her. “The Order can help you. Just… just come home.”

“No one can oppose me, certainly no child, barely more than a Padawan.” He grinned, ghoulish and without remorse as he ignited his lightsaber. “I am beyond flesh… beyond death!”

Aitahea realized tears were slipping from her eyes, her vision blurring. She was so tired. “No one is beyond the will of the Force,” she whispered, uncertain who the platitude was meant for.

Morrhage laughed again, a sound like plasteel shredding. “I will crush you, Aitahea, and your shattered body will fuel my rebirth!”

For a fleeting moment, she thought of running. Simply turning about, dashing to the safety of the Luminous. She questioned the choice she’d made on Tython, to come here carrying so many injuries, so much guilt and fear. Should she have stayed to heal? She remembered what the Noetikon of Secrets had explained, that the Jedi Master who had created the shielding technique had given his life to end Morrhage’s first plague. Was Morrhage right? Had the light blinded her?

Aitahea took a breath.

The light didn’t blind. Light revealed, left no shadows to hide in. Light nourished; light gave everything yet lost nothing. Light was right now in this moment, not in the past, and would always be in reach in the future. If light called, light would answer.

Aitahea called out.

“Parkanas! I know you are there; I sense you!” Morrhage ignored her outcry, continuing to advance. Aitahea sucked in a breath, ignited her lightsaber, and took a defensive stance. “Help me stop this monster, Parkanas, please!”

Morrhage attacked with spectacular brutality, thousands of years of rage and hatred against Aitahea’s weakened shielding, against her physical self. The Jedi parried and dodged, evading strikes she couldn’t hope to block. Qyzen Fess did what he could to aid her, but Morrhage was fixated on Aitahea. Her body quailed under the assault, shredding her determination. There must be another way…

Morrhage’s next attack struck true, and Aitahea lost a few moments to fiery agony searing across her left side. Reckless with pain, she flung out a wild, violent Force wave that sent Morrhage to the floor and left several nearby panels crushed beyond recognition. A few precious seconds passed while she waited, panting, for her vision to clear.

The fallen Jedi, the false Sith lord, struggled to his knees, glaring death toward Aitahea as she approached.

“Impressive, Aitahea, but my victory is already complete. My plague has spread farther than you can imagine. Jedi Masters across the galaxy are succumbing to it as I speak. The plague binds these Masters to me. Hundreds of them… the heart and soul of your order.

“You feel it, do you not, Aitahea?”

No lies this time; Aitahea could indeed feel the mingled torment of hundreds more Jedi as Morrhage siphoned their lives for strength. Every crack in her shielding, down to the smallest hairline fracture, screamed in agony.

“Kill me, and you will kill every Master I have ever infected. Every one! Shielded or not, they are still bound to me.”

Aitahea dispassionately placed the blade of her lightsaber at his throat. It felt like someone else doing it. She spoke in clipped tones, her voice unrecognizable in her own ears. “Free those Jedi, Morrhage. Now.”

“And if I refuse? Will you cut us down? What choice do you have? You cannot let me live, and I am deathless.” Morrhage leered, his dark victory seemingly assured, and took one more jab: “Your shielding talent cannot harm me. You’ve lost!”

Everything went silent and impossibly still. Your shielding talent cannot harm me. Of course not. It was never meant to harm, only to heal, to offer a path toward the light that anyone could take at any time, without judgement, without conditions, just… a welcome home. The path that she’d longed for, that she’d tried to circumvent over and over, a path she could not offer until she, too, chose it.

Aitahea lowered her arm and deactivated her lightsaber. “I can save you, Parkanas.”

Morrhage reeled back as Aitahea drew the Force around her. The effort would not be without risk, but it was the path that lay before her. Another stillness enfolded her, this time of peace, willingness, and release. Fighting had never been her forte or focus; she was a healer, with words and hands and her lightsaber only when absolutely, undeniably necessary.

Now, she isn’t simply performing the shielding ritual; she is part of it, wholly within and throughout, a numinous space that feels like a Coruscant ocean, like the forests of Tython, like warm sun and a hand to hold on Brentaal, all at once.

Now, she realizes how to bring it full circle; she must allow the Force its will, stop trying to control it, and just let go. Light spills through the cracks in her shielding, and everything is suddenly and wonderfully illuminated.

May the Force be with you.

Parkanas – and it was with every certainty him; the sudden burst of hope where none had been the moment before was unmistakable – went flying backwards, away from Aitahea and leaving the vulnerable spirit of Morrhage isolated before her.

The spirit howled in fury. “No, this body is mine! Damn you, Jedi!”

Aitahea noted with detached amusement that she was levitating, Morrhage’s furious tirade a soft rumble in the background. She felt untethered, undefinably light. Closing her eyes, Aitahea exhaled a long breath and stepped softly down to the floor.

“When my strength returns, no matter the years – I will destroy you,” Morrhage snarled, but Aitahea was already walking toward Parkanas, feeling her own strength returning. She brushed past the raging specter, and in a few more moments, it had disappeared.

Qyzen had already lifted Parkanas Tark to his feet. He had a hand to his head, and Aitahea allowed a thread of sympathy to unwind, a guide to the path she hoped he would be able to take, too.

Parkanas Tark stared at her with open disbelief. “I’m… still alive. You spared me.”

She half-smiled. “Healed you.”

“My mind is…” Parkanas shook his head again. “Clearer now. But – it was your duty to kill me and destroy Morrhage.” His eyes – still smoldering amber, revealing a bitter internal strife – begged for an answer. Why?

“Too many Jedi have been lost already.” Aitahea lowered her gaze, the barest of brief moments to grieve for those lost. “Including Parkanas Tark.”

“Perhaps he deserves another chance, but…” Parkanas’ voice trailed off, adding in a pained whisper, “I cannot return to the Order.”

Swallowing hard against the lump in her own throat, Aitahea pressed. “Tython has its hidden places. Its forests.” That half-smile danced across her lips again, and for a flickering moment, she was light years away. “You could find peace there.”

“I could… go home.” Parkanas grew still, eyes distant and filled with evergreen leaves and rushing water. After a moment, he startled, reaching out to grasp her hands. “But first, Jedi, listen. Take this warning in exchange for my life: You can’t trust the Order. Or the Republic.” Aitahea drew breath to contradict, but he continued. “You may be their heroine now, but they will abandon you, too.”

Aitahea pulled away from Parkanas’ frantic grip, shaking her head while she scrabbled for a coherent thought. “Why…What do you-” Nothing coalesced, leaving her once again a diplomat with no words.

Parkanas held her gaze. “Remember that.”

“We felt it! A massive shift in the Force. The Masters you saved have reported a sudden improvement in their condition. The plague is over, thanks to you.

“And… I sense Parkanas Tark. For the first time in many years. How can that be?”

Aitahea nodded at Master Syo and glanced sidelong toward Parkanas, who was being assessed by Tharan and Holiday. “You can ask him yourself, Master. When he returns to Tython, he can answer all your questions.”

Her companions had dashed through the ship as soon as she’d signaled their safety. Bringing medical equipment to help with the injured and traumatized crew, Prelsiava Tern had even dragged along a protesting See-Two.

“I told you there’d be plenty for you to do; look at that console! It’s completely trashed! Go on, get on it,” Sia had ordered, and the affronted droid had conceded, tottering over to examine one of the smashed panels.

With the logistics managed, and a scant few moments to tuck away the memory of Parkanas’ unsettling words, Aitahea had commed the Council, Master Syo answering with his victorious statement: We felt it!

“Well done, Aitahea. The Jedi Order owes its survival to you.”

Relief swept over her like a wave. “It’s my privilege to serve.”

“Hurry home. We’re waiting for you.”

Aitahea felt nearly presentable again by the time they arrived on Tython. She’d had her injuries treated. She’d eaten and bathed. She’d slept, mostly dreamless but for dappled sunlight and burbling water.

As they touched down on Tython, Aitahea marveled at the incandescent radiance of the Force within the hallowed walls of the Jedi Temple. Each Jedi shone like a bright star, a constellation she’d missed terribly beneath the weight of the shielding. Even Qyzen shimmered, kindling with satisfaction and pride. Beneath all, the grand symphony of Tython itself soared.

In the Council chamber, Master Yuon, Master Syo, Master Satele, and Master Jaric were waiting. Schooling her expression into practiced serenity, Aitahea dropped into a bow, only lifting her gaze when Yuon spoke.

“You have saved untold lives through your defeat of Lord Vivicar and destruction of the plague.” Aitahea felt Yuon’s pride in every syllable.

Even Master Jaric was smiling. “There’s a title reserved for the most prestigious among us, whose wisdom and skill safeguard the galaxy. It hasn’t been bestowed in thousands of years.”

Aitahea became keenly aware of her flushed cheeks, suspended between delight and disbelief, and nodded in vague acknowledgment.

“You have proved worthy,” Master Syo declared. “Now, the Council names you Barsen’thor, warden of the Order.”

Absurdly, Aitahea’s thoughts turned to how much she’d enjoy reading about the other Barsen’thor that had preceded her. Would the archive even contain that knowledge? How many thousands of years? Who were they, who had they set out to be, and what had they done to arrive where Aitahea herself now stood? The Force bloomed with assurance. “I will do all I can to live up to this honor.” Aitahea clasped her hands, sweeping into a low obeisance.

“I never imagined your potential would take you so far.” Yuon beamed, and Aitahea returned the expression as she lifted her head.

Yet concern laced Master Syo’s next words: “And not a moment too soon. We have need of you. The Council has received word that the Republic is facing a new threat.”

“We need time to prepare a war council,” Satele clarified, much to Aitahea’s unspoken relief. “The Supreme Chancellor himself will be attending.”

“I stand ready, Master,” Aitahea assured.

Accepting her pledge with a nod, Syo nodded towards the doors. “Take time to record your journey in the Jedi archives. History must know of your actions.”

Aitahea blinked, more surprised at her own surprise than anything – of course there should be a record of the current Barsen’thor as well; that’s the first place to start, obviously – and almost missed Master Syo’s final words. “We will contact you when the war council is ready. For now, the entire Order will know that there is a new Barsen’thor among us.”

After a round of congratulations from each of the Masters, Aitahea and Qyzen left the Council chamber, ostensibly to bring her story to the archives.

“Scorekeeper smiles, Herald. Is great honor your people give you.” He gestured broadly, sending a few initiates scurrying out of the way. “Points beyond measure!”

Her heart sang with gratitude. She’d trusted him as her ally, her second, her friend; and he’d returned that trust hundredfold. Questioned and advised her, criticized and coddled her, but never judged her. Steadfast and patient, always. If what they had done brought points-beyond-measure to her, he’d have the larger portion by far. “We hunt together, my friend. Whatever my score, you share it.”

Qyzen paused, abruptly turning to face her. Traffic streamed around them; Temple life carried on. “Is… a noble thing you say. My thanks, Herald.”

“My thanks to you as well, Qyzen. Thank you for…” For protecting me? For challenging me? For warning and guiding and validating me? For seeing me when even I could not? “…for everything.”

“Must share the story of this hunt with your Order. It is good to share knowledge.”

Aitahea thought of the Noetikons, the immense value of them for so much beyond the lore and history of the Jedi. Even after becoming one with the Force, they had set alight a path for so many Jedi after, herself included. Like she might, generations from now.

Blinking back tears and knowing full well she couldn’t have hidden them if she’d wanted to, Aitahea smiled. “Then I must make yet another request of you: that you tell the story with me.”

Qyzen regarded her for a long moment, long enough that she began to fret that she’d somehow stumbled into an insult. “You are Scorekeeper’s Herald,” he said solemnly, “and you are true Jedi.”

Aitahea nodded, feeling and breathing and illuminating the Force around them.

“I’m home.”

Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three

[nanasparadise]

“Your musketeer in a blue tunic” Yan! Polnareff x female reader (musketeer AU)

Hiya everyone! As promised, here is a Yan! Polnareff writing, since he was in the top four of the poll for the special but hasn’t reached the top three. I thought it might be a fun idea to make him a musketeer and now I’ve realised this fic turned out to be low-key a Belle and Gaston situation from Beauty and the Beast lmao. Anyway, there might be historical inaccuracies in the story, I’m sorry for that.

Summary: You’re a farmer woman in 18th century France and a certain musketeer keeps crossing paths with you…

TW: toxic relationship, noncon kiss, low-key harassment, forced marriage, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Word count: 3900

“Just about half an hour and I’ll be there”, you mumble to yourself. 

The pouring rain drenches your whole form, an icy cold having already nested deep in your bones. But you can’t stop now, even if it’s raining cats and dogs. You know you have to arrive to the main market place, which is located a good three hours from the farm you live in. If the wool – which you hope isn’t too wet, knowing the burlap bags aren’t protecting it well from the rain – won’t be sold today, you don’t know how you could afford some bread for your family. You think of your little siblings, how they always stare at you with big eyes, expecting at least some crumbs of stale bread in order to satiate their hunger a bit. Your heart aches painfully at that mental image. No, you’re going to sell the wool at all cost, no matter if it means you get sick due to the weather. You owe it to your loved ones, needing to protect and provide for them as the oldest sibling. 

A chilly wind blows intensely into your face, making you shiver even more. Lucky for you, no other person is currently on the road, meaning you’re in safety. You’re aware about how many sketchy men lurk in these streets by the countryside, just waiting for a young woman like yourself to pass by and to do God knows what with her. As a protection measure, you always carry a knife with you, hidden in your boot. Fortunately, you haven’t needed to use it, yet…

Suddenly, you hear the footsteps of a horse approaching you, the characteristic sounds of its hooves drawing closer to you. Your first instinct is to immediately pull out your knife, but you refrain yourself. 

“It’s probably just another merchant who wants to go to the market, too”, you think, comforting yourself. And even if that shouldn’t be the case, it would be wiser to take your possible aggressor by surprise with an attack if needed. 

The steps are now dangerously close to you, too close for your liking, until they come to a halt. Surprised, you stop your walking as well and look up to the person on the horse. Next to you on his steed is a man around your age, probably a few years older, with peculiar silver hair and bright blue eyes. Through his uniform, consisting of a characteristic blue tunic with a white cross on it, you immediately recognise the stranger as a King’s musketeer. You hastily curtsy and meekly avert your gaze, given that he’s of a higher social rank. Why would a musketeer want from you, a farmer? 

“Good day, Monsieur”, you greet the musketeer politely. 

“Good day, Mademoiselle”, the stranger answers jovially. “Please forgive my intervention, but what does a young lady like you travel alone on such a dangerous road?”, he asks you, sincere concern marking his voice. 

Why would he care? And why would he refer to you as a lady when you’re clearly just a commoner? You get the sudden urge to grab your knife again, but of course your rational brain side hinders you from doing so.

“I’m only going to the market place, good sir. I’d like to sell some wool”, you explain shortly, your eyes still not meeting the stranger’s. 

“All alone?”, the Frenchman wonders. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice, Monsieur. My father has to work on the farm and my mother looks after my younger siblings”, you reply truthfully. Honestly, you’d prefer not giving too much information away to the stranger, but lying doesn’t seem like a safe option either. 

“I see, Mademoiselle,” the musketeer utters politely, “in that case, I’d be pleased to escort you to the market place. After all, my heart couldn’t handle if something happened to a damsel.” 

“Thank you for your generous offer, Monsieur”, you answer civilly, curtsying gracefully again. Though internally, you sigh and roll your eyes at the Frenchman’s words. 

“More like his ego couldn’t handle getting rejected by a common woman”, you ponder cynically. You’re about to continue your walking as the stranger stops your action abruptly. 

“Wait a moment, Mademoiselle,” he shouted hastily, “I’ll take your bags and settle them on my horse.” The silver-haired man dismounts from his white horse and takes the bags filled with wool from your hands, placing and tying them on the animal’s back. 

“You are far too kind, Monsieur”, you say with an overly sweet voice. Lucky for you, the stranger doesn’t seem to notice the hint of sarcasm hidden in your tone. Instead, he smiles brightly at you, revealing a row of impeccable white teeth. 

“As a musketeer, it’s my duty to help a lady in need”, he boasts proudly. Again, you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Ah, how rude of me, Mademoiselle, I haven’t properly introduced myself. My name is Jean-Pierre Polnareff, I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss…?” 

“Y/N L/N”, you reply meekly. 

“What a lovely name, Milady.”

~

The pair of you have been walking silently side by side for a while. You simply wish to arrive as fast as possible to the market place, wanting to get rid of Polnareff’s present. After some time, the stormy weather has changed into a brighter, more pleasant sky. Though some sun rays peek through the clouds, the cold from the previous rain remains. Upon seeing your slightly quivering form, Polnareff offers you a blanket he has in his supplies with him. Politely, you decline his offer. You certainly don’t want to be more in the debt of such a high ranking man. 

“I apologise if this may come across as rude, Mademoiselle Y/N, but I couldn’t help but notice that there isn’t a ring on your finger”, the musketeer suddenly mentions. The hairs on your arms stand up at his observation and you instinctively straighten your back. If Polnareff has seen your discomfort, he still chooses to continue speaking. “And you’ve said previously you’re living with your family on a farm. How come such a fair maiden like you isn’t married yet? I reckon you must have many suitors.” Something about his tone and the dangerous gleam in his blue eyes sets you on edge. 

“Oh, I do have had some suitors in the past,” you answer truthfully, but cautiously, “but I’ve chosen to not marry. My family needs me and I don’t wish to let them down.” Polnareff gives you a tender glance, the prying shimmer being replaced with sympathy now. 

“Maybe you’ll soon find a wealthy man who’s able to help your family out”, he mumbles softly, though you still could hear his words. 

“I’d rather not base my life on such an improbable dream. After all, I’m just a common farmer,” you say, slightly amused. “He doesn’t have a clue how life’s for a commoner, does he?” 

“So you’d like to marry? It’s your dream, didn’t you say that, Mademoiselle?”, Polnareff counters, hope swinging in his voice. Why is he hopeful? But you decide to not voice this thought. 

“Well, that’s quite a difficult question, Monsieur Polnareff,” you retort,  feeling unsure now “it would be the wisest choice for me to marry, but at the moment, I feel content to take care of my family.” For some reason, the musketeer’s face falls at your last sentence. Disappointment takes over it instead, his lips turning into a bitter, thin line. 

“Ah, I see”, he replies wearily. You immediately notice the change of atmosphere, though you don’t comment on it. Instead, you two continue strolling in silence.

Eventually, the pair of you arrive at the market place. During your travel, none of you spoke further, the mood being too tense and awkward. You settle your burlap bags on the floor on a free spot after the silver-haired man has removed them from his horse for you. 

“My sincerest thanks, Monsieur Polnareff.” You bow politely. Even though your eyes have been trained on the floor for only a matter of seconds, some stealthy thief has been able to snatch one of your bags. Immediately, your head leaps up. 

“Hey, this belongs to me! Give it back!”, you scream angrily. You wouldn’t let some trickster take your wool, not after working so hard for your family! You’re ready to run after the knave, but a hand on your forearm hinders you from doing so. 

“Let me handle this, Mademoiselle Y/N,” Polnareff says confidently, “you’ll have your merchandise back in no time. Just wait for me here.” Quickly, the musketeer dashes into an alleyway after the thief. Confused, you’re left alone at the market place, the man’s horse being your only companion. A sigh rolls off your lips. 

“Guess I’ll have to do what he says if I ever want that wool back”, you exclaim exasperatedly. This is the last thing you’ve needed today. First, you’ve been drenched by the rain, then a weird musketeer has started following you and asking you eerily invasive question and now your precious goods have been stolen. In the meantime, you try your best to sell the remaining wool.

After half an hour, you still haven’t sold any wool at all. Though you were definitely drawing attention on you by shouting out some offers, no one has seemed to be interested yet. No one even cared enough to look towards your direction. 

“I guess I’ll just have to stay all day, then”, you think gloomily. From the corner of your eyes, you notice an all too familiar form approaching you, though this time with a bag in his hand. 

“Mademoiselle Y/N!”, Polnareff shouts excitedly, “I’ve retrieved your bag from the thief!” A sincere expression of gratitude appears on your face. Yes, the man is more than annoying to you with his clingy behaviour, but at least he was chasing the trickster for you! 

“Thank you so much, Monsieur Polnareff!”, you exclaim happily, relieved to have your wool back. Now there’s only the matter of selling it left… 

“Of course, nothing to thank for, Mademoiselle! I’d never want to see such a charming lady like you in need.” 

Purposefully, you ignore his statement, an awkward feeling bubbling up in you. Instead you’re thanking him again. All the while, the Frenchman keeps staring at you with a look of fondness, a huge and proud smile adorning his face. In his mind, he’s just proven to you how capable he is of taking care of you and your family. How could you refuse him now? He’s literally your knight in shining armour! Or your musketeer in a blue tunic. It doesn’t matter, he’s practically your hero! 

Polnareff’s grin only widens at the thought of you swooning over him. The silver-haired man doesn’t know why he feels like this towards you. Maybe it’s because you just looked so pitiful when he saw you on that road, soaking wet from the rain. Maybe it’s his pride that doesn’t let him relent. Maybe it’s the way your eyes sparked with determination and love when you talked about your family. Maybe it’s your radiant atmosphere, which draws him in like a moth. Maybe you’re secretly a witch who put a love spell on his poor self, making him a fool for you after having only met you. Maybe, maybe, maybe…  

Polnareff quickly stops his pondering. “It’s not of importance,” he muses, “as long as she’ll realise I’m the best choice for her.”

“I see you haven’t sold any of your goods yet”, the musketeer says, trying to sound casually. Though in his thoughts, he already has a plan schemed. 

“No, unfortunately not,” you reply, an exasperated sigh following swiftly, “but there’s still some time left until I have to return home. Surely, I’ll be able to sell some.” 

“You know, Mademoiselle Y/N, I’d rather not see you standing here all day, maybe even for it to be in vain,” Polnareff utters, concerning coating his voice, “let me help you, I’ll buy the wool.” Your eyes grow big at his proposition. Even though it’s more than a generous offer, especially after all he’s been through for you today, you can’t help but feeling alerted. Why would he go all these lengths for you? He can’t be that kind, there must be something he wants in return. 

“You’re far too generous, Monsieur Polnareff. I can’t accept such an offer”, you tell the musketeer, hoping he’ll actually drop his suggestion. But the Frenchman remains stubborn as a mule. 

“Ah ah Mademoiselle,” he tuts you condescendingly, “I’m a man of my word. How much would you like? Are two livres enough?”

Your eyes widen so much at his offer, you wouldn’t be surprised if your eyeballs fell out. Two livres? Is that man insane? The wool is hardly five sous worth! 

“I think you must have meant two sous, Monsieur Polnareff,” you answer him, still shocked. 

“Pas du tout, Mademoiselle. Two livres is what I said and what I meant. Or would you maybe want more?” 

Vehemently, you shake your head. Two livres… That would feed your family for at least three months! “No Y/N, you can’t take this offer!” Your thoughts interrupt you suddenly. Not only does your conscience forbid you from doing so, your parents would also wonder where all that money comes from. They might assume you’ve stolen it as no one would believe a stranger to be so kind to just give a random farmer way too much money. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you try again to change his mind, “I really don’t think you should-“ 

“Ah, there’s my pouch!”, the silver-haired man exclaims happily, ignoring your previous words. Eagerly, he takes two shiny coins out of it, pressing them in your palm. Admitting your defeat, you curtsy and express your deep gratitude again. Though a small part inside you does enjoy the fact of getting provided for.

After your exchange, Polnareff insisted on bringing you home again. You dislike the idea of him knowing exactly where you live, but that man’s stubbornness and pride is bigger than the Palace of Versailles. Which is why the two of you are walking back to your farm, the wool resting on Polnareff’s horse’s back. 

“What are you doing with all the wool, if I may ask?”, you say with a questioning look on your face, “Surely, a musketeer doesn’t need to fabricate his own clothes.” The Frenchman rubs sheepishly behind his neck and offers you a smile. 

“Ah Mademoiselle, you see, I might just donate it. I’ve just wanted to help you out, I don’t need it myself.” Even though you still cannot bring yourself to trust him, your heart warms at his statement. 

“That’s indeed very noble of you, Monsieur Polnareff”, you reply candidly. The musketeer sends you another bright grin, a subtle blush forming on his pale cheeks.

The sun has begun to set as the two of you arrive on the farm. With a polite curtsy, you’re ready to finally return home, excited to tell your family the good news regarding the money. But Polnareff stops your goodbye. His hand finds its way to your wrist, halting your movement. 

“Before we must depart, Mademoiselle Y/N,” he counters hastily, “I’d like to be assured that we’ll meet again soon. I find myself enthralled by your presence.” 

Your heart beats faster at his proposition. Suddenly, you realise the dangerous situation you’re in, the big hand capturing your smaller wrist. Could you really deny him without facing consequences? Thoughts like these rush through your head as the man in front of you keeps waiting for your reaction. Still, you’re going to try. If something should happen, you still have your knife with you and your father would surely rush out once he hears your screams. 

“Monsieur Polnareff,” you start hesitantly, “I’m deeply flattered by your words. You are truly an admirable and honourable man whose kind actions shall always carry my most sincere gratitude. Though I must admit, I don’t think it would be a wise idea to meet again.” The Frenchman makes a crestfallen face at your words. You feel almost bad for him. “Ah, I think I should explain myself further. Well, Monsieur Polnareff, we are of two different social classes, continuing mingling with me would put a bad reputation on you. I cannot offer you something of interest. Plus, I like staying with my family so far, this is my home.” 

“Y/N”, Polnareff whispers affectionately, his thumb rubbing softly on the inside of your wrist. You shoot him a surprised look, confused by him dropping the formal title. If anyone would have heard this, they’d turn it into a scandal. 

“I know my offer might appear strange to you, but I wish to marry out of love one day. I’m aware it’s fairly uncommon and even looked upon with scorn to marry below someone’s station, but the matters of the heart outshine the matters of the mind in my case. I have more than enough money, a comfortable estate and an honourable title. So you’re correct by saying you can’t offer me anything. Though you forgot one important thing, dear Y/N: you can offer me companionship, love, a meaningful bond between two souls.” Upon his last sentence, Polnareff tenderly grabs both of your hands in his, admiring how they seem to fit perfectly. Too astounded by his words, you let the man do as he pleases. Quickly, Polnareff catches on with his speech. “Please Y/N, let me see you again. Let me court you properly. I can give you and your family a beautiful life, a life you deserve.” The silver-haired male’s form moves now closer to yours, his blue eyes fixated on your lips. This action breaks you from the spell you’ve been caught in previously as you abruptly rip your hands off his grip and step back. 

“I’m sorry, Monsieur Polnareff,” you manage to say, your voice sounding breathless from the adrenaline rushing in your veins, “I don’t think I’m the right woman for you. I do not wish to disappoint you further, that’s why I’m being direct with you. I’m going home now, please do not seek out for me. Have a good evening, Monsieur Polnareff.” You give him one last glance, noting his furious facial expression, before you eventually walk rapidly the path up to your family’s farm. 

“I’ll be coming back, Mademoiselle Y/N!”, you hear the musketeer shouting behind you, “I’m not giving up that easily!” His sentences only make you pick up your pace as fear makes itself present in your body. Why couldn’t he just respect your choice? You’re sure there are enough suitable ladies in his rank pining for him, so why would he bother you? Finally, to your happiness, you arrive at the front door. Quickly, you enter your home, locking the door from the inside. Still, it feels as if a pair of blue eyes continues burning holes in your back…

The following month had been both positive and negative. Positive, because your family didn’t need to worry about food thanks to the two livres Polnareff gave you. Negative, because the latter had been true to his word and kept showing up at your place. Every time you told him you won’t change your mind, the musketeer only seemed to be more encouraged to prove you otherwise. 

Today isn’t any different. As you make your way to the market to buy some food, you hear the familiar hooves approaching you. Annoyed, you let out a sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Bonjour Y/N! What a pleasant day to see you again, mon amour!”, Polnareff exclaims happily while he dismounts from his horse to walk next to you. 

“Bonjour Polnareff”, you reply politely. In the meantime, you’ve dropped the titles when you two were alone, not seeing the point of them anymore. Plus, the Frenchman even decides to call you pet names, so why showing him respect? 

“Ah, ma puce, no need to be so cold today! After all, I bring some splendid news”, the Frenchman replies excitedly. You eye him suspiciously, brows knitted together. What on earth is he planning now?  

“And that would be?”, you answer matter-of-factly. “You’re finally leaving me alone?” 

“You see, before I came to meet you, I’ve finally talked with your parents.” At these words, you immediately stop your steps. A feeling of dread emerges in your stomach, making you feel sick. 

“Oh no,” you think desperately, “this can’t be good.” 

“Very lovely people, indeed. It hurts my feelings knowing you haven’t invited me to them, mon cœur”, Polnareff continues his talk, a hand put on his chest in mock concern. 

“And why should I have done such thing?”, you reply coolly, though internally you’re freaking out. You already know you won’t like the answer… 

“My dearest, how come you act so cruel? Don’t you think your future husband should see your parents? After all, we’re betrothed now!” 

“No”, you retort without thinking. Your palms grow sweaty, a deep fear manifesting in your body. The silver-haired man smirks at your reaction. 

“Non? I think your parents disagree with you, ma chérie. In fact, we’ve already picked out a date for the ceremony. Can you believe it? In two months, we’ll be finally one.” Panic overflows your mind, your breathing becoming laboured. How could your parents decide on such a matter behind your bag? After everything you’ve done for your family? Polnareff notices your stress as he softly wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to his chest. The musketeer tries to comfort you by shushing you and gently brushing over your back, though his actions only fuel your terror. You squirm in his grasp, trying to escape him, escape this situation, but his grip on you only strengthens. 

“Let me go!”, you scream all while tears stream down your cheeks, “I don’t want to be with you! Why can’t you just accept that?” 

“My little Y/N,” Polnareff mumbles calmly, “if you hadn’t  been so stubborn, we could have discussed the wedding plans together. I know you think our union is not favourable, but if even your family agrees to it, it surely can’t be that wrong, hm? You’re so blinded by your little provincial life that you can’t see what’s best for you. And trust me, my dove, I’m the best choice.” The Frenchman grabs your chin, staring lovingly in your by now puffy eyes. “It’s fine if you need some time to realise that. As long as you remain by my side.” With these words, the silver-haired man puts his mouth on yours, his hand now wandering to your cheek. You wriggle harder in his grasp, though your attempts to escape remain futile. Tenderly, Polnareff caresses your face as his lips finally leave yours. 

“Je t’aime de tout mon cœur, mon ange*”, he whispers adoringly, pressing your face against his chest again. Your tears smudge the blue fabric of his tunic, your voice hoarse from screaming. And even though you wish this is but a nightmare, you start comprehending you’re truly trapped in Polnareff’s oh so loving arms for the rest of your life.

*former French currency. 2 livres are about 30 euros, which was a lot of money back then

*former French currency. 5 sous are about 3,70 euros, which was still quite some money back in the day

*”I love you with all my heart, my angel”

[yungidreamer]

Moving Day

Moving in together is just the start of making a life together... 

word count 9.3k

Pairing: Yunho, Mingi, unnamed fem character, established poly relationship

Content warnings: brief mentions of semi public sexual contact, making out, oral sex (m/m and m/f), descriptions of sexual frustration, loss of virginity, protected sex, cuddly aftercare, lots of confessions of love and just general lovey dovey stuff.

“Honey, where are these boxes supposed to go?” Her father asked, carrying a large cardboard box marked Bedroom on the side. 

“Uhhhh, my room is the second door on the right after the bathroom.” She answered, poking her head out of the kitchen. She had been the first one to arrive on move-in day at the new place she was renting with Yunho and Mingi near the university they had all gotten into together as they had promised when they started applying.

“This one?” Her father shouted down the hall. “It's huge. Why are you getting this one?”

“What do you mean?” She asked, coming down the hall to join him in the room.

“I don’t know…” He shifted uncomfortably. “Why not put both of the boys in here and make one of the others into an office or a study or something?”

“Uh well,” she began. “I won the paper, scissors, rock competition and, yeah, I think everyone wants their own room. You know...in case they want to bring over...a friend…”

“Okay, okay, nevermind, I never asked,” her father threw up his hands, wanting to completely avoid such a topic, as she had suspected he would. In truth, the arrangement she and her two boys had come to was a little bit more complicated. Yes, everyone had their own room, a place to keep their stuff, a place to get away and be alone, but her room was ‘their room.’ It was a place for movie nights, cuddling, and hopefully, now that they would be away from prying eyes and parental observation in general, maybe something more.

They had known each other now for a little more than a year. A little more than a year since they met at summer camp and started down their journey to being best friends and a little bit more. That week had been magical, but the year since had been even better. As hard as it was finding as much time as she had wanted to spend with them between a part time job, school, and getting into college with them, the stolen moments they had shared had only brought them closer. Every holiday they found time to get together, exchange gifts, and talk about what was happening in their lives.

They had decided to only apply to colleges that they could all go to together and promised to only go to one that they all were admitted into. Thankfully, in part due to their hard work and dedicated studying for finals and national exams, they had all gotten into the top school they had wanted. Their parents were all proud, even if they didn’t quite know what to make of this little clique their children seemed to have suddenly formed over a week away at summer camp.

Now they were all moving in together to a house they had found for rent not far from campus. Her father had tried to say no. He didn’t want his daughter moving in with two boys. She had spent a month arguing with him and giving her best persuasive arguments for the lower cost than dorms, the safety of the neighborhood, and pointing out how she would be less likely to end up at some rowdy parties living with them rather than some unknown strangers in an on campus dorm. He had given up eventually, once her mother had ganged up on him with her, kindly pointing out the archaic and sexist idea that the lovely boys, her sweet and smart friends, were just predators looking to pounce on anything with boobs. 

Though he still grumbled now and again, here he was, moving boxes into a house she was going to share with her friends. Really, he liked them. They were good kids, it was just...he didn’t get it. They both looked at his daughter in a way that reminded him of how he looked at his wife, who had been his high school sweetheart. When he had first met them, he was sure, sure, that Yunho boy was trying to get in and date his daughter. Then he had been sure it was Mingi. But nothing ever came of it, no matter how many times he asked if she was dating someone.

No daddy, I’m not dating one of them, she always demurred, you know I adore both of them and could never choose. After a year, it seemed like she was being honest. They were almost always together, all three of them. They did everything together. They studied together, they hung out together, they celebrated together, and now they were going to school together. At least they were as good of influences as he could have wanted.

Before too long, the boys and their families came and the house was bustling with activity as everyone tried to get everything in the house and unpacked before all the parents all had to drive the two hours back home. Yunho’s mother concentrated on the kitchen, worried that, if she didn’t make sure that they had all the dishes, all the pans, and all the appliances they could possibly need unpacked, her precious baby would starve. Admittedly, over the last year her son had grown three inches and become a bottomless pit when it came to food. He was growing still and everything that he put in his mouth just seemed to be going into the width of his shoulders and his height.

Mingi’s parents focused on his things and his room, grumbling just a bit that he hadn’t gotten the largest room no matter how many times his son rolled his eyes and told him that he liked his room and didn’t mind sharing a bathroom with Yunho and letting her have the master bedroom and her own bathroom. He understood the bathroom, he would say every time, but maybe if they offered to pay a little more of the rent, the big room could be his.

“Dad, seriously,” Mingi grumbled, putting the last of his clothes into the drawers. “It’s fine for her to have it. Yunho and I have the consoles in the living room and she can have a little extra space to get some quiet.” His father grumbled, but let it go, finishing the last of their unpacking in no time. With everyone satisfied, and pizzas ordered for the new college students on the credit card of Mingi’s father, all the parents said their goodbyes, promising to visit in a few weeks, and piled into their cars  for the trip home. They stood in the yard, waving them off, a little sad, but mostly relieved to finally see them go.

When the taillights of the last car disappeared around the corner the trio dashed inside their new house and closed the door. A thrill went through them at the knowledge they finally had the privacy to be themselves. The moment that Yunho closed the front door behind him, he grabbed Mingi, trapping him between his body and the door and pressed his lips to the other boy’s, pressing him into a hungry kiss he had been wanting to give him all day.

Mingi was surprised by the bold move, but quickly caught on, kissing him back hungrily as his hands moved to hold Yunho around his ribs. Yunho pulled back after a moment, disconnecting his lips but pressing his forehead to Mingi’s as he caught his breath. “I’ve been wanting to do that half the day. Wanted to rub it in your father’s face. His stupid snippy comments every five minutes, about everything. How did you do it all these years?”

“You get used to it eventually,” Mingi shrugged, running his hand along Yunho’s waist, pulling his hips against him. “I barely hear it anymore to be honest. God, can you imagine his face if he ever saw you kiss me?”

“I don’t know if he would die or try to kill one of you,” She said from across the room, where she had flopped tiredly on the couch. “But I am pretty sure someone will be bleeding when he finally figures it out.”

“I don’t know if it scares me or makes me happy that you think we’ll last long enough he’ll have to figure it out at some point,” Mingi gave a nervous laugh. Over the last year there had been a couple of close calls with their parents when they hadn’t been careful enough. Once when Yunho’s mom had come home from work early to find the two boys cuddling on the couch while they waited for her to come over after school. Mingi had immediately rolled off and they had played it off as roughhousing together, hoping that they were hiding the blushes and slight arousal they were both experiencing just as the result of wrestling. Just be careful, his mother had said, don’t hurt each other. I don’t know why boys have to be so rough with each other. She had sighed as she left the room, shaking her head. They had been more careful after that. They almost never went to Mingi’s house given his dad’s general attitude. Her house was alright, but her father had an annoying habit of dropping in to check on them a lot. But finally, finally, they had a place they could be themselves.

“Come here,” she invited, patting the couch next to her. “I want to see my boys for real.” They both bounded over, eager to see her and touch her without the fear of eyes on them. Yunho flopped into the seat next to her and Mingi literally crawled onto her lap, looming over her small frame as he took her face in his hands, holding it as he drew her into a deep and passionate kiss.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he groaned against her mouth. “It feels like it's been forever since I could kiss you.”

“I think it’s been more than a month,” she decided, taking half a second to think when the last time she had been able to get out with them.

“Why did your family have to take that vacation?” He pouted, touching her like his hands had been hungering for the feel of her.

“Because I was moving away for college,” she laughed. “My mom acted a little like I was going to basically disappear when I moved out. She wanted us to have some quality family time. But my dad spent a quarter of the time grumbling about me moving in with you two and my brother wished he was anywhere but with all of us uncool people. But no, it was fun and I am glad I got to spend some time with them, even if I missed you both.”

“I missed you, too,” Yunho said, turning in his seat to face her with his iconic shy smile. It always made a little knot in her stomach whenever she saw it. He was so beautiful when he smiled. It was like it lit him up from the inside.

“C’meer,” she reached for him, asking him to come over without making Mingi move off her lap. Yunho leaned in and gave her a slow, patient kiss, showing that he had missed her too, just in a different way.

“When is the pizza going to be here,” Yunho asked, hoping someone had been listening when Mingi’s father had said he had ordered it for them so they wouldn’t have to cook tonight.

“Can’t be long now,” she said, looking at her phone. “He must have ordered it about half an hour ago and it was from that ‘under an hour or its free’ chain. You that hungry?”

“No,” Yunho answered. “Well, I mean, I am hungry, but someone has to answer the door when it comes so I can’t do what I want to spend my evening doing until it comes.”

“You have plans?” Mingi teased, his hand reaching out to caress the other boy’s cheek as he teased him.

“Like you haven’t spent the last month thinking about what you wanted to do on the first night you had alone with us,” Yunho laughed.

“I did but you already heard about it every time we went for a drive to kill time this summer,” Mingi admitted, feeling a little like he should apologize for the hours the other boy had had to listen to him fantasize out loud while they waited for her to call.

“Is that what you guys were always doing when I would call?” She let out a cackle at herself for never putting it together. “I wondered why I never had to call you both on any of the nights. Where did you go while you waited for me to call and say good night?”

“Different places,” Yunho shrugged. “We went to the Sonic near the hospital a couple of times, got something to eat and just listened to the radio while we waited. A few times we just parked somewhere at a beach. More than once we were still just driving while we talked to you.”

“My poor boys,” she sighed sympathetically. The car was the only place they could find privacy to talk. To her, to each other. 

At some point during the third week of her being gone, they had pulled over in a deserted parking lot near the shore of one of the lakes to wait for her to call. The summer sunset had been beautiful and they had ended up in a full make out session, in part because Mingi couldn’t keep his hands to himself most evenings. As soon as the car door was closed and Yunho was pulling away from Mingi’s parents’ place, he would feel a hand creep up along his thigh until he dropped one hand off the steering wheel to interlace his fingers with the other boy. He wasn’t even sure Mingi realized he was doing it at some point, he just needed the comfort of something solid to assure him Yunho was really there.

That evening was the second time they had given in to the desperate tension that had been building over the summer with too much time and not enough to occupy themselves. In the almost year they had been together, they hadn’t really gone much beyond kissing. In part because they had no safe place to go further, in part because with all the obligations of their senior year, finding time to even meet up had become increasingly hard. But this summer, with money from part time jobs and the freedom of near independence, they had the time and the means and spent all the time they could manage, out of their houses and in each other’s company. 

Hidden from view from most passers by, the boys had moved to the big back seat of Yunho’s old classic car so they could sit together and kill the hour they were probably going to be waiting for her to call. It had started innocently enough with Mingi leaning in for just one more light kiss. He couldn’t help it. He had been listening to what Yunho said, he really had, then suddenly he noticed how lovely Yunho’s lips looked when he talked. Those perfect Cupid’s bows moving so pleasantly as the words he no longer really heard spilled out. His lips met the other boy’s, eating the last of the words. He still tasted a little like the cherry Slurpee they had gotten at the start of the evening. He was so delicious.

Shifting in his seat, Mingi had ended up half facing Yunho with one hand holding his head and the other desperately fumbing at the other boy’s waistband to get inside and touch him. Yunho had given in, helping him undo his jean shorts before pulling Mingi’s basketball shorts down enough to give him the access he needed to fondle him back. It hadn’t taken long for both of them cum, letting go of some of the tension they were both carrying all the time these days.

They cleaned up, making sure they weren’t leaving any evidence of their activities in the car for a parent to find. The car smelled like sex and the dampness of the nature that lined the shore as Mingi leaned back to rest his head against Yunho’s chest as he lounged between his leg.

“Do...do you think we’ll have to take turns?” Mingi asked quietly, playing with the finger on one of Yunho’s hands.

“Take turns?” He asked the other boy, completely lost as to what he was talking about.

“When we live together,” Mingi started, letting out a sigh. “Do you think we’ll have to take turns being with our girl or...like can we really do it together, all three of us?”

“Okay, I know you watch porn,” Yunho snickered. “I am sure you know it is totally possible for two guys and a girl to do things together.”

“I’m not stupid,” Mingi protested, dropping both of his hands into his lap. “But like, do you really see yourself fucking our girl like they do in ‘Gang Bang Boys 5’?”

“Point taken,” Yunho admitted, resting his chin on the top of Mingi’s head.

“Besides,” Mingi fidgeted again. “I don’t think she’s slept with anyone before. What if it hurts or what if we do something wrong? Do you really think she’ll want to be with two people the first time?”

“I don’t know, love,” he admitted, slightly ashamed that none of this had occurred to him. Leave it to Mingi to have clearly fantasized himself into a little bit of a panic.

“If she lets us choose, can you go first?” Mingi mumbled the question in the quiet of the car.

“You want me to do the deed, huh?” Yunho teased, hugging him to his chest.

“I’m not always that careful when I...what if I hurt her?” He finished with a sigh.

“You won’t, not any more than I would,” Yunho assured him. “We’ll do whatever works. We don’t even know if she’s ready to be with us like that. Maybe it will just be the two of us sneaking off to jerk each other off so we don’t bother her.”

“It’s okay if she’s not ready,” Mingi agreed. “But I don’t want to be sneaking around. Do you think she would be disappointed in us for doing this without her?”

“No,” Yunho scolded. 

“You sure?” Mingi asked.

“You want to confess when she calls, ask if she’s okay with it?” Yunho offered.

“Maybe,” Mingi admitted, not sure if he felt like an idiot for needing to do it or not. 

When she called that night, Mingi blurted out what they had done when she asked how they were doing. She met the confession with a laugh and asked if making out in the back of a car was as fun and iconic as the movies always made it look. The teasing assured Mingi that she wasn’t upset they had done something without her and let Yunho segue into the topic of room sharing to see if they really were all on the same page. They had talked about her room being the shared room they would all stay in together but hadn’t actually talked about whether they were really ready to be together in that way.

“We have our own rooms, too,” Yunho pointed out. “We can stay there for a while and see when things feel right.”

“Do you want to wait?” She asked after a pause.

“I would gladly drive us the three hundred miles to wherever you are right now to answer that question by making love to you tonight,” Yunho answered, only slightly hyperbolically.

“The only thing that has made the bickering between my dad and my little brother bearable for the past three weeks has been thinking about how each day, I am that much closer to going to bed every night in your arms.” She told them earnestly.

“You know that doesn’t mean we have to do everything right away, though, right?” Yunho pressed.

“I’m not saying you have to throw me against the wall the first chance you get,” She gave them a low chuckle. “But I started birth control a month and a half ago and you two aren’t the only ones who have been suffering from this stupid tension. God I wish I was in the backseat with you two right now.”

“We wish you were here too,” Mingi finally piped up, sending the phone a longing look.

“Okay I have to go,” she told them. “I’ll call you again tomorrow, okay? And take care of each other for me...however you want. Bye.”

A knock sounded at the door and Yunho sent a prayer of thanks to whatever it was in the universe that loved him just a little as he hopped up to accept the pizzas that had thankfully already arrived. He accepted the three large boxes of pizza and thanked the delivery person, passing them the fiver he happened to have on him and closed the door. He set them down on the coffee table and walked over to the end of the couch where Mingi was still smothering her with affection and knelt down on the couch beside them.

“I’m not that hungry right now,” Yunho told them both. “It feels like I have been waiting to be alone with you two. Can we…”

“Spend a little quality time in our room? See where we end up?” she finished for him. Yunho nodded and Mingi slid himself off the couch, eagerly skipping down the hall. Yunho drew her into his arms and honeymoon carried her into the bedroom, playfully tossing her into the middle of the bed. 

Pulling herself up, she knelt on the bed and patted either side, inviting the boys to join her on either side. Mingi crawled into the bed and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“Yunho, can you do me a favor and bring that box to me?” She pointed to a plain white box that had been left unpacked in the corner. He placed the box near her and stretched out on the open side of the bed. She muttered to herself as she opened the top and rustled around in the box, obviously looking for something.

“You have no idea how many times I had to hide this box today to stop mom and dad from trying to unpack it,” she let out a nervous laugh. “Ah-ha!” She cleared her throat, pulling out what she had been looking for in the box. It was a headband with a large white bow attached to the center of it. Placing it on her head, she dove back into the box. Yunho bit his lip to keep from bursting out laughing. She was making herself their present.

“I don’t know what to take out,” she sighed, giving the box a hard quizzical look. “Okay this--” she plopped a tube of something onto the bed. “These...I got two different sizes…” she tossed a couple of small boxes down next to it. “Maybe this one too...it's flavored…” she pulled out a smaller tube and, with a last sift through the box, she closed the top and moved it to the foot of the bed. “Please close your eyes.”

Both boys looked at each other and gave little shrugs. Mingi let her go and stretched out on his side of the bed, closing his eyes as requested. Yunho did the same, also putting his arm over his eyes to prevent himself from peeking. They felt the bed move and heard the rustling of clothes and the sound of the box being lifted. Her weight briefly moved off the bed before coming back to where she started.

“Alright, you can open your eyes,” she declared. The bow was still placed nicely on her head but nothing else she had on was the same. She was kneeling in the center of the bed, stripped down to a sheer white mesh balconette and panty set, decorated with colorful embroidered flowers. She looked beautiful...and a little nervous. Mingi couldn’t help but stare, his eyes sticking on the sight of the pretty pink nipples he could just make out through the fabric. Yunho’s eyes skated over every surface and curve, trying to take it all in. The silence stretched and she couldn’t help but feel the nervous energy in her swell as she waited for one of them to say something.

“You look so pretty,” Mingi breathed, sitting up. “All this, is this just for us?”

“I’ve been thinking about tonight for a while and I wanted everything to be perfect,” she explained. “Tonight I get to be with the two people I love the most. I want to give you my everything. Welcome home.”

Mingi pulled her into his lap, tucking his head against her shoulder as he held her near. “We have a home.” His voice was grateful and contented. Yunho’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. He so loved to see them both looking so happy. His eyes flicked to the things she had pulled out of the box, still lying on the bed. Water based lube, pineapple flavored lube, and two boxes of condoms. He smiled at himself as he moved them off the bed and onto the bedside table to get them out of the way but keep them within reach. His hands went to the hem of his shirt, starting to pull it over his head when he heard her soft, wait. He half turned in his seat on the edge of the bed to find her crawling up behind him.

“Stand up for me,” She instructed, giving his neck a quick kiss. Yunho stood up beside the bed, turning to face her and the bed, keen to know what she had in mind. “I want to unwrap you,” she gave him a teasing grin. Her hands went to the hem of his black t-shirt. It was an old favorite of his, worn enough to be as soft as flannel and a little more grey than black. She slid it off over his head and tossed it near the foot of the bed. Taking a moment, she admired his bare chest, decorated only by the short but thick silver chain and pendant. It was solid and lean, covered in gorgeous light brown skin. She loved the shade of it, just the right shade, somewhere between light toast and milk tea. His skin always made her hungry, both of them did, and maybe that is why food always came to mind when she thought to describe them.

Her hands trailed down his chest and ribs, exploring his body slightly as her hands moved to the waist of his black jeans. He had worn his favorite e-boy look today, complete with studded belt and wallet chain. Her hands undid his belt and popped the button before carefully pushing the jeans and his underwear down his hips and past the curve of his lovely ass so they could drop and he could step out of them. It was the first time she had gotten to see him in all his glory and it was...beautiful. From the breadth of his shoulders which had filled out over the last year, to the soft ripple of muscles in his chest and stomach, to his narrow hips and thick muscular thighs, it was all so much better than she had imagined. And he was...big. All she could think was, thank goodness she got the magnums. Yunho noticed her stare and put his hands in front of himself, a pink spread over his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Her gaze lifted to his face again and she pulled it to her so she could give him a kiss.

“Sorry, I was staring,” she said after the kiss. “You’re just so tempting.”

“No,” He shook his head. “I just, I can’t tell what you’re thinking.”

“Come lie down,” she moved back to give him space and he crawled into the bed. “Mingi, baby, can I…” The other boy looked a little startled to have the attention on him again but nodded, scooting off the side of the bed and waited. “Do you want to help me?” She directed the question to Yunho who eagerly nodded at the invitation. Her hands went to Mingi’s face, pulling it to her for a kiss. He looked nervous but excited, just not sure what it was he was supposed to be doing.

“Me next?” Yunho gave him a big grin as mingi pulled back from his kiss with her. Mingi nodded and angled himself to meet the lips of the nude boy who was kneeling beside her. Their kiss turned hungry and Yunho hooked his fingers in the belt loops of the other boy, bringing his hips forward to press against his own. As she watched their lips clash, she felt a thrill of anticipation. They pulled apart panting and the moment had only added to the obvious and growing arousal Yunho was sporting.

She reached for the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head while Yunho unbuttoned and lowered his jeans. She tossed the shirt away and let Mingi step out of his jeans. Yunho pulled at Mingi, urging him onto the bed with him.

“Do you still want me to go first?” Yunho squeezed the other boy’s hand. Mingi nodded sheepishly.

“You talked about this?” she suppressed a laugh, but couldn’t stop herself from letting out a choked giggle.

“Just...since it is your first time, too,” Yunho explained. “We wanted to be careful, to make sure that it's good for you.”

“Thank you for worrying,” She soothed, reaching out to both of them. “I know that my boys are going to take care of me so well. Come and lay with me, please.” Mingi crawled to her and pulled her back to lay against the mound of pillows piled against the headboard. He kissed her cheek, taking the bow off her head as he did, he wrapped an arm around her waist. Yunho came up beside her and slipped a finger into the waistband of her panties.

“Can I take these off?” He asked, pulling at them lightly. She nodded and lifted her hips to allow him to slide them off.

Mingi’s hand moved to the mound of her breast and gave it a testing squeeze. Her pink nipple showed through the sheer fabric and his mouth watered to taste it. “I want to see you...all of you.” His hand played with the strap of the bra and she sat up to unhook the bra and slip it off herself. Mingi reached up and stilled her hand, unhooking it himself and sliding the straps down her arms.

She laid back down again, her hands moving to cover herself automatically. Yunho’s hands moved to cover hers, drawing them off her to let them see her. “No love, we’ve been waiting so long, let us see you.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Mingi fawned, his hand traveling down along the plane of her stomach to the curve of her hips. His fingers paused over a small mole on one side of her stomach, wanting to commit the detail to his memory. He leaned over, taking her lips in a timid kiss as his fingers splayed over her stomach, exploring her body through touch. He broke the kiss, letting his lips move lower to nibble at the line of her collarbone. Slowly he moved lower, tasting his way to her nipple which he teased with a soft flick of his tongue. The soft intake of breath, half gasp, half moan, emboldened him and he opened his mouth, suckling the soft flesh.

“Mingi, yes, that feels good,” she encouraged, her hand resting on his shoulder. His large hand gripped her rib cage, feeling the speed of her breathing increase. Yunho felt himself grow harder as he watched patiently. He wanted Mingi to explore her without self consciousness. Over the month she had been gone he had talked a hundred times about things he wanted to do, ways he wanted to touch her, fantasies about the pleasure he wanted to bring her. Mingi wanted this moment with both of them. He wanted to let go of the frustration of having to hide his affections, his closeness to the people he loved. Finally, he could touch them without fear of judging eyes and in more than just stolen moments.

Mingi pulled back, his eyes wandering over her body again. “Can...can I touch you?”

“You already are,” she teased. “But if you are asking for permission, you can touch me anywhere.” Mingi blushed and moved further down, looking up at the other boy for his permission as well. Yunho nodded, reclining along her on the other side. He watched as Mingi’s fingers traveled along the line where her stomach and legs met, following it towards the junction of her thighs. His light, testing touch sent a shiver through her.

“Good?” He questioned.

“Yeah, good,” she nodded, her hands reaching to touch both of the boys to ground herself. Her nerves danced with a nearly painful anticipation. Mingi slipped his hand between her thighs, gently parting them as he moved to be level with her pussy. He laid down between her spread thighs, kissing up along the smooth skin of one side he moved closer, but stopped just short of touching her there. He ran one finger along the slit.

“You’re already getting wet,” he commented, using her thighs to draw her closer.

“Is our girl ready already?” Yunho asked him, running a hand over her stomach, feeling it twitch as the other boy touched her.

“Not yet,” Mingi ran the tip of his tongue along the slit. She gasped at the sensation, curling her hips up and away from him involuntarily.

“Hold her hips,” Yunho suggested, sliding an arm under the pillow under her head as he held her closer. Mingi nodded, hooking both arms under her hips to hold her still. He repeated the teasing motion of his tongue drawing a strangled moan from her again.

“Say if it’s not good or if it’s too much,” Yunho murmured into her hair as he held her, feeling her nod in reply. His arm wrapped her torso, holding her as close as he could without getting in the way of what Mingi was doing for her. She moaned as Mingi’s mouth explored her more fully. “Does he make you feel good?” He whispered as he heard her breath catch. “Tell him how good he makes you feel, babe.”

“So g-good,” she keened. “Fuck, Mingi, please. Don’t stop. It feels so good.” The sounds coming from between her legs filled the room alongside her pants and broken gasps has he hit a particularly good spot.

“Are you close?” Yunho soothed her, stroking her hair softly.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I haven’t really… when I did it by myself it didn’t feel like this.” He could feel her tensing, her hands gripping the sheets beneath them.

“Relax, love,” Yunho kissed her temple just as Mingi slid his tongue inside her, his nose brushing against her sensitive clit. She jumped under their collective touch, the sensations feeling overwhelming. From his spot between her legs, Mingi watched them both as he licked and tasted her. Her face was a mask of pleasure as Yunho held her, softly talking her through the pleasure. He felt a surge of confidence. He made her feel that; he gave her that pleasure. As painfully hard as he was, nothing could have made him feel better than seeing her break under the touch of his tongue. Her body moved against him and he tested sucking the small bud with the suction of his soft lips locked around it. Her toes curled and her thighs gripped his head and suddenly she let out a choked yelp. He continued to suck it for another second before flicking it with the tip of his tongue as she squirmed under him.

“Wait, wait,” She whimpered finally and Mingi pulled back, seeing a tear escape the corner of her eye.

“Was that bad? Too much?” He came to his knees between her thighs, drawing in a little on himself.

“No baby, it was so good,” she reached for him as the overwhelming sensation faded to a warmth that filled her body. “Please, I need to touch you.” Mingi crawled up beside her, holding her as she came down from her high.

When her breathing had returned to normal they both loosened the grip of their arms around her and looked at the peaceful expression that had taken the place of the intense look that had been there a moment ago.

“Was that enough for today?” Yunho asked, propping himself up on his elbow as he brushed some hair from her face.

“I don’t want to stop,” she shook her head. “I want someone inside me.”

“Okay,” Yunho nodded, giving her a kiss. He rolled to the side and reached for the bedside table where he had put the lube and the condoms earlier. Sitting up on the side of the bed he opened one of the packages, ribbed for her pleasure, and ripped open one of the little foil packets.

“Can I try putting it on you?” She asked from behind him, having pulled herself up onto her elbows.

“Sure,” he nodded and handed her the opened packet.

“Can you lie down for me,” she prompted, scooting closer to Mingi to leave more room for him. He stretched out on the bed on his back, carefully watching as she pulled out the small rolled bit of latex. “Okay...pinch the tip and roll it down.” She said to herself as she positioned it on the head of his penis. Yunho bit his lip to keep from moaning at the sensation of her rolling it all the way down his length. His eyes widened as she moved to straddle his hips.

“Hold one one second,” he stopped her and reached for the bottle of lube on the table. Clicking open the top and squeezing some of the gel-like liquid onto his hand, he spread it on his length and wiped the last of it onto her. Tossing it aside, he helped her guide his length to her entrance. 

“Let’s go slow,” Yunho’s voice was tight. “We aren’t in a hurry. Here, put your hands up here by my shoulders.”

“Okay,” she leaned forward and let his hands guide her down. The head slid into her easily and she let herself move lower on him until a slight stinging made her hips stutter.

“You okay?” He asked, unclenching his jaw and letting his head drop back to the pillows as he looked up to her face.

“Yeah, it just feels...weird,” she let herself sink down a little more, then waited for the burning to subside, joking, “There is a lot of you.”

“Sorry, love,” he gave a breathy chuckle. “I can’t really change that.”

“I know,” She scrunched up her face as she moved down a bit more.

“How are you feeling?” Yunho’s thumbs stroked the soft skin of her stomach and hips as he held himself still.

“I’m good.” She exhaled before joking, “Is that all of you?”

He looked down to where their bodies met before nodding. Turning his head, he looked at Mingi who was laying on his back on his side of the bed. He ran one hand lightly over his length as he stared at the pair beside him, his eyes drawn magnetically to where they were connected.

“Mingi,” Yunho breathed, one hand going to reach for him. “Can you help our girl move?”

“How?” Mingi asked, sitting up. “What can I do?”

“Get behind her, I think,” He replied, trying not to move. “Hold her and guide her hips when she is ready to move. And touch her, make sure our girl cums again.”

Mingi nodded, fitting his long body against her back, his thighs cradling her from behind. One long arm reached down to hold himself up and the other engulfed her, holding her to his chest. He kissed her temple, his eyes meeting Yunho as he did. “You’re doing so good,” He told them both. “You ready to move?”

She nodded, lifting her hips experimentally. Stopping half way, she slowly let herself sink down again, sighing at the pleasant sensation. Mingi’s hand moved down to feel where her body enveloped Yunho, using two fingers to frame his cock, feeling it move in and out as they rocked in unison. Together they slid almost to the tip, sinking down with a collective groan.

“Touch her for me,” Yunho panted. “I’m not going to last very long. She feels so good. God, I knew she would...but it’s even better than I had imagined.”

“You want to feel her squeeze your cock?” Mingi teased, his fingers going to brush her clit as they continued to move.

“Yes,” Yunho confessed, his hands gripping Mingi’s thighs. “I want to cum inside her. I want to make her ours forever. Make her feel so good, no one else could ever compare.”

“You want to make her feel how much you love her,” Mingi tempted.

“God yes,” Yunho admitted, arching slightly off the bed.

“Then move,” Mingi commanded. “I’ve got our girl. Show her how you want her.” Mingi leaned them both forward so that Yunho could move enough to buck his hips up. His hips snapped up, drawing a gasp from her. Her thighs quivered as the boys worked together to pleasure her. Yunho’s eyes went to her face, searching it for any sign of pain or discomfort. Finding none, he let go of the last ounce of control he had been clinging to. He could feel Mingi’s fingers work between them, sending waves of pleasure through her that made her twitch around him.

Just when he thought he wouldn’t last long enough, he felt her crumble. Her walls fluttered then milked him as she let out a breathy keen, half collapsing on him. He thanked the universe and stopped his struggle to last. With a few last stuttering thrusts, he emptied himself into her, with only the thin layer of the condom between them.

Mingi watched the look of bliss bloom on Yunho’s face and kissed the damp temple of the girl between them. He was still painfully hard but he was quite sure that the surge of satisfaction he felt at that moment could not be topped. He pulled her limp body up to lean against him as he held her, murmuring comforting words of encouragement and love.

“Do you want to lie down?” Mingi asked, petting her cheek softly. She nodded, allowing him to lift her off Yunho and lay her down on the bed beside him. Mingi continued holding her, one hand stroking down her side as he praised her, told her she was so beautiful and wonderful. She relaxed into his arms and let her eyes close.

Beside them, Yunho let his breathing return to normal before sitting up to slide the messy condom off his softening length. He blushed at the sight of the pink streaks that were present, glancing over at her relaxed form and wondering if she really was alright. He tossed the condom away in the trash before padding back to the bed. Mingi looked so sweet curled around her, but Yunho couldn’t help but notice his straining erection pressed against her hip. His mouth watered at the sight.

Those couple of stolen moments they had shared in the car that summer had left Yunho with a desire to taste the beautiful length he had caught brief glances of as they chased their pleasure in the backseat of the car, always with one eye out to make sure they weren’t caught by someone.

She lay between them nearly asleep, barely noticing when Yunho pulled her closer to his side, tucking her up into the pillows with a kiss to her forehead.

“On your back, love,” He ordered lowly to Mingi. The other boy acquiesced, rolling over, carefully drawing his arm out from under her so that he wouldn’t disturb her. Yunho crawled over to the other side of the bed and began kissing his way up the other boys legs as he looked hungrily up the planes of his body. Mingi held his breath watching Yunho devour him with his eyes. His cock twitched against his stomach as the other boy neared it, placing kisses along the v where his thighs and stomach met.

“Wha...what are you doing?” Mingi asked as Yunho parted his thighs to recline between them.

“I’m going to taste you,” Yunho explained with a playful smile on his Cupid’s bow lips.

“You don’t have to,” Mingi gave him a shy look, still a little afraid deep down that the other boy didn’t really love him, not like that at least.

“I want to,” Yunho assured him. “I’ve wanted to feel you in my mouth since that first night in the back seat.”

“Really?” Mingi’s voice was flavored with a hint of disbelief.

“Didn’t you ever think of it?” Yunho ran his fingers lightly over the underside, drawing a sharp intake of breath from him.

“Yeah but, I didn’t think you’d want…” Mingi blushed, trailing off.

“You didn’t think I wanted you?” Yunho chastened. “Then what did you think?”

“I don’t know,” He mumbled, looking away. “I was there and, I guess…I guess I’m better than nothing.”

“Better than nothing?” Yunho repeated in disbelief. “I love you, Mingi. I love you and your laugh and your smile. I love how you make me feel so happy when you are there. I love your kisses and I love your hands on me. I love your body and your face. I want you, I want all of this with you.

“This summer was hard because she was gone,” He continued. “But it wasn’t hard because she was gone, it was hard because we all weren’t together. It would have been the same if you had been missing or, I hope, if I had been. What we have isn’t bad or wrong or second best. It's part of something bigger that fills a little hole in my heart I didn’t know was there until I met you two.”

“Really?” Mingi said a second time, wanting more than anything to believe him.

“Can I taste you?” He asked this time. “Can I show you that I want you, too?”

“Yeah,” Mingi agreed, lacing his fingers in the messy brown locks of the other boy. The long fingers of one hand encircled the base of his cock, angling it so that he could better reach it. With his eyes locked with Mingi, Yunho pressed a kiss to the underside of his head. Mingi whimpered and could only watch as Yunho’s pretty Cupid’s bow lips parted to take it in his mouth. The warm wet of his mouth encircled him and it felt like paradise. 

Yunho broke eye contact as he pushed his mouth down the length until it filled his mouth. He pulled back to just the tip and swirled his tongue around it like it was the sweetest candy. With his free hand, he fondled the balls hanging so tightly against his body. Mingi moaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back.

Pulling himself higher, Yunho propped himself up, his hands caressing and holding the trim waist of the other boy. He reveled in the soft velvety skin as it stroked against his tongue and along the roof of his mouth. He drew himself off taking a few steadying breaths, he angled himself to take as much as he could into his mouth. Like Yunho himself, Mingi was not a small boy and Yunho met his limit before he managed to take all of him. Mingi gasped, eyes widening as he watched the other boy sink down on him. His stomach clenched and he had to keep himself from bucking up as he felt his tip hit the softness of the back of Yunho’s throat.

Yunho drew back, lines of slick drool covering the stiff line of Mingi’s cock as he did. He stroked the length as he paused to catch his breath before going back, again working his mouth down as far as he could. Yunho let out a low moan, stroking the flat of his tongue against the underside of Mingi’s member as he moved his head up and down.

“Yunho,” Mingi breathed as the other boy pulled back again.

“Hmmm?” Yunho looked up at him, running the pat of his thumb over the slit on the tip.

“I’m getting close,” Mingi shook his head, hands reaching for the soft mop of Yunho’s hair.

“Good,” He grinned back. Yunho took him back in his mouth bobbing as quickly as he could, careful not to graze his teeth along the thick length as he moved. Mingi felt waves of pleasure clench his stomach and curl his toes, he twitched and gasped. His hands clutched for something to steady him. They tangled in the sheets and in Yunho’s hair, feeling his head move with the waves of pleasure.

Yunho took a deep breath through his nose and watched Mingi’s face screw up into a mask of mindless pleasure. He wanted to see him as he finally let go. Sliding down again, this time he ignored the discomfort when it brushed the back of his throat. It made him gag slightly, drool pooling in his mouth. But he pushed past it, letting his cock slide back into his throat. Mingi, overwhelmed by the feel, lost control and bucked his hips up, driving himself all the way into Yunho’s mouth as his orgasm hit him.

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry,” he stuttered as he felt his cock twitch as it emptied down Yunho’s throat. Yunho blinked away the blur of tears that had come along with the triggering of his gag reflex. It was all worth it for the look he could still make out on the other boy's face and to feel the warm gushes of his cum run down his throat.

“It’s okay,” Yunho croaked, his throat slightly irritated by Mingi’s repeated intrusions. “That was as good as my fantasies.”

“Thank you,” Mingi leaned forward, tilting Yunho’s face so that he could kiss him. “If we do that again, I promise I’ll try to be more careful.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yunho gave a dark chuckle. “I like that I can make you lose control like that.”

“I’d say you are mean, but…” Mingi’s face split into a joyful smile. “You’re too sweet.”

“I think we should clean up and get our girl cleaned up a little,” Yunho suggested, looking at her sleeping form curled up beside them. Mingi nodded, sliding off the bed onto wobbly legs and heading to the large master bath attached to the room. He waddled in and turned on the shower, letting the water warm up. Yunho came in behind him, arms filled with a still groggy girl.

“Go ahead and hop in the shower,” Yunho suggested. “I think our girl is going to need a bath.”

“Is she okay,” Mingi asked, worried that they had made her so tired.

“How about it babe,” Yunho asked her, sitting both of them on the edge of the large porcelain bathtub. “You okay?”

“Mmm,” she nodded. “I’m tired...maybe hungry now.”

“Let’s get you in the bath and then I will bring you some pizza,” Yunho offered. “If you wash up, you can get in the tub with our girl, help her clean up.” He tempted the other boy, in part because he didn’t want to leave her alone in the water as sleepy as she was, but also wanting to give Mingi a few moments with her. Mingi nodded happily and stepped in under the warm water.

Yunho started to fill the tub before he leaned over to search the drawers near the sink to look for something to clip her hair up to keep it out of the water. He found a claw clip and twisted her ponytail into a messy bun.

“There, perfect,” he declared, tweaking her nose and making her giggle. Mingi stepped out of the shower, his hair a damp mess. He padded over to the filling tub and stretched out in the water, opening his arms to accept her small form. Yunho carefully laid her in Mingi’s lap, stepping back as he enveloped her in his long arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Yunho stepped into the shower to wash off quickly, letting the warm stream of water relax his muscles and wash away the stickiness of the sweat that had coated his skin. He smiled at the happy murmurs and chuckles that reached his ears from the other two. They were just quiet enough to obscure what was said, but the happiness was evident in their tone, nonetheless. He turned off the shower, clean and refreshed, tousled his hair with a towel and dried himself off before stepping out.

Yunho slipped out of the room while Mingi was still holding her, rocking tenderly, as he held her against his chest. She smiled up at him, pressing a light kiss against his cheek, lifting her foot to break the surface of the water, watching the ripples skate over it’s stillness. 

“Are you okay, really?” Mingi asked quietly, bending his knees slightly to make a better seat for her on his lap.

She nodded, threading her fingers through his where they rested on her stomach. “Thank you for tonight. It was better than I had hoped.”

“It didn’t hurt?” He pressed, unable to forget some of the boastful stories he had overheard in places like locker rooms when guys bragged to stroke their egos with each other.

“No, it didn’t hurt,” she promised. “But now my thighs are sore. I think I used muscles I didn’t know I had. I’m gonna need some practice to get them in shape.”

“Next time, maybe I can...you know,” He couldn’t finish his sentence. She could feel his face warm as he blushed.

“Maybe next time you can…” She teased, letting the pause carry. “Make love to me? Fuck? Screw me? Fornicate?” Behind her he giggled, squeezing her more tightly against him.

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “I was just afraid I was going to do it wrong; that I would hurt you.”

“You would never,” she assured him. “Not my precious Mingles.”

“I love you two so much more than I can ever say,” he confessed, his voice tight with emotion. “I don’t know what I would do if you ever left me.”

“You’re stuck with us,” she promised. “You could run to the ends of the earth and we would come to find you.”

Mingi could only hold her as he swallowed past the prickle of tears and the lump in his throat. Yunho stood outside the door, holding one of the boxes of pizza, listening to her reassure the other boy, his heart swelling at her words. He couldn’t have put it better. He would go to the ends of the earth and back for them. No, they were his world and he would do anything just to make them smile.

[four-loose-screws]

FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 15, Section 2

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I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

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Chapter 15 - The Day the Empire Fell (con’t) The unthinkable happened in Port Taizel.

Myrrh disappeared.

Their difficult journey to the capital had Ephraim's head full, so much so that he even forgot to keep an eye on her. When he thought about it after the fact, she looked like she had been trying to tell him something multiple times, but he didn’t listen. There was too much on his mind, and though he didn’t mean to, he ended up putting off whatever she needed from him. 

What could she have been trying to say? For what reason would she leave without saying anything? Could she have run out of patience with him and left when he didn’t listen to her…?

‘No, Myrrh isn’t like that.’ Ephraim reassured himself, but his worrying only continued to worsen. He felt sorry for being so indifferent to what she wanted to say, but no matter how much he regretted what he had done, it was too late. With things as they were now, he had to search for her.

With eyewitness testimony from one of the locals that said they'd seen Myrrh wandering east, Ephraim’s army headed east. The person said that she'd been seen walking alone, so it seemed she had not been captured by bad people again, but left of her own free will. However, though they were gaining more information, they still didn’t know anything about the reason why she left.

Along the way, every time they passed through a town or village, they explained to the locals what Myrrh looked like, and gathered eyewitness accounts. 

She had originally run off on her own, but at some point, seemed to have joined up with another person. 

“A girl with indigo hair? Yeah, she was with Lady Selena.”

“...Selena, you said?” Ephraim’s face became pale. Did this mean that Myrrh had been taken by an imperial general? What could an imperial general want with her?

“Yeah, you know her, right? She’s called General Selena, the Fluorspar, and is a beautiful, strong, and charming woman. Though I wonder why such a beautiful person would become a general. I think it’s a waste…” Said a villager they passed by on the street, becoming completely distracted from Ephraim’s original question.

“Why was Lady Selena in this village?”

“She was shopping. A gemstone being sold here caught her eye, and she left the capital just to buy it.”

“A gemstone?”

“I don’t know what it’s called, but it sure was pretty. It was too expensive to sell right away, but word of it got to the capital, I suppose. Lady Selena is a soldier, but she’s still a woman. She likes gemstones, so she came here to buy it.”

The villager said with a laugh, but Ephraim couldn’t imagine that this was the sort of time for a soldier to leave the capital for personal reasons like a shopping trip. This stone could not be any ordinary gemstone.

“So then what did General Selena and the girl do…?”

“Hm, this happened right after Lady Selena bought the gemstone. The indigo haired girl came up to Lady Selena and started talking to her about something. She’s not from this village. In fact, I’ve never seen her around here before at all. I don’t know what they were talking about, but they had really serious looks on their faces. In the end, Lady Selena took the girl with her and left the village. I don’t know anything about what they did after that.”

Based on this story, Ephraim was able to piece together a conclusion.

The “gemstone” was likely the dragonstone that Myrrh was searching for. It was a precious gem to those of the dragon tribe, but Myrrh’s was stolen on her journey, and she’d lost all knowledge of its whereabouts. A merchant, not knowing just how valuable dragonstones are, sold it as a gemstone.

Meanwhile, General Selena had been called back immediately from Bethroen to the capital. 

That was probably because she’d received the information that the dragonstone was being sold as a gemstone. The Sacred Stones, the Dark Stone, and now a dragonstone… the emperor seemed to be drawn to stones with great power hidden within them.

When they had arrived at Port Taizel, Myrrh had likely already sensed that her dragonstone was nearby. She'd tried to tell Ephraim that, but he didn’t listen to her, so she had no other option than to go out alone. That led her to this village, where she met Selena just after Selena obtained the dragonstone, and decided to talk to her...

The details were all consistent with each other. The problem was why Selena had taken Myrrh with her… and where they were now.

He explained the situation to Duessel, who crossed his arms and started to think.

“I can’t imagine that she would harm a civilian. Her demeanor and way of speaking are rough, but she has a kind heart. She probably wouldn’t do anything violent.”

“Then why would she take Myrrh with her? She doesn’t intend to hand Myrrh over to the emperor, does she? If anything happened to her, I....” Ephraim couldn’t calm down, and paced around as he shouted. This was all happening all because he hadn’t listened to her… That regret was still torturing him. “We may have to fight General Selena. General Duessel, it may be difficult for you to do that. Please stand down this time. You do not have to participate in the battle.”

“What are you saying? I have dedicated myself to your service. Whoever your enemies may be, I will fight them. Even if my opponent is Selena, I will not hesitate.” His tone was firm. He was probably thinking that if he hesitated, then it would dull Ephraim's will to fight as well… so he wanted to go out of his way to make his thoughts clear.

Ephraim was thankful for his teacher's thoughtfulness.

The next day, Ephraim’s army finally found Myrrh. Or rather, she came back on her own.

She appeared from within a forest that followed along the main road. When Ephraim saw her, he rushed over to her, and she looked up at him with large tears in her eyes.

“Ephraim…”

“Myrrh! You’re alright!”

“I’m sorry, Ephraim! All I ever do is cause trouble for you… I didn’t want to make you hate me again… but I still left anyway…”

“What are you talking about? You could never make me hate you or anything of the sort. I’m the one who was in the wrong. I’m sorry for not paying attention to you.”

However, they had no time for a joyous reunion. 

A flustered soldier ran up to him to report, “Lord Ephraim! The Grado Army is coming this way! Their commanding officer is an imperial general, Selena the Fluorspar!”

“Let’s go! All units, get into battle positions!”

Ephraim tried to grab his weapon, but Myrrh grabbed his clothes tightly and pleaded, “Please wait, Ephraim! Whatever it takes, don’t fight her! She’s not a bad person!”

“Who? You mean General Selena?”

“Yes. She helped me run away. And told me to return to you…”

“But she took you away. Even if you say now that she told you to run away…”

“You’re wrong! She listened to what I had to say. She loves the emperor… and is suffering greatly. Please don’t fight her! Please…” Myrrh was always so quiet that this was the first time she’d ever shown any emotion like this. 

Ephraim was taken aback by it, but he nodded. “I understand. I’ll do everything I can to try and persuade her.”

“Thank you, Ephraim…”

From what Duessel and Myrrh had said, General Selena didn’t seem to be a bad person. There was a very good chance that they could talk things through.

Ephraim was optimistic, but the expression on Duessel’s face was grim. 

When he asked why, Duessel said with a pained look on his face, “Selena has a very pure and genuine personality. Her loyalty to His Majesty is steadfast. No matter how unreasonable the order, if it is what he wishes, she would happily dirty her own hands… That’s just the kind of person she is. I don’t believe that she will lend an ear to your plea.”

“Even if you did your very best to persuade her?”

“I am a traitor. She is the person who first declared that I should be executed. She is probably still suspicious of me.”

“So that means…”

“Yes. It is unlikely that we will be able to avoid fighting her.”

Still, Ephraim did not give up hope. He wanted to grant Myrrh her wish.

Selena’s army was in battle position in a marsh. Ephraim’s army had to trudge through sopping wet mud as they marched onwards.

He stayed away from the oncoming Grado soldiers as much as he possibly could, and avoided fighting as he searched for Selena. She was deep within the center of the marsh, riding atop a white horse and surrounded by her soldiers.

Ephraim continued to dodge the Grado soldiers, and approached Selena. 

Selena also noticed him, ordered her soldiers not to fight, then neared him.

 He’d heard that she was beautiful, but he was surprised at just how true was. Although her appearance was plain in her soldier's uniform, she couldn’t help drawing in the fascination of those around her. Her glittering eyes were befitting of one called “Fluorspar.”

“Are you General Selena?" Ephraim asked.

Selena nodded and answered, "I am indeed. And you are Prince Ephraim, correct?"

"Yes. I'd like to talk to you.” Ephraim put his weapon behind his back to show that he had no intention of fighting. 

Selena's soldiers broke out in a commotion, but Selena stopped them, then she looked at Ephraim. "What about?"

"I want you to withdraw your soldiers. A battle such as this one is meaningless. Emperor Vigarde is not in his right mind."

"...I know." Selena nodded, and Ephraim breathed a sigh of relief. However, her following words betrayed all of his hopes. "But I will not withdraw my soldiers."

"Why not?"

"I am an imperial soldier. His Majesty's orders are absolute."

With her unshakeable words, Ephraim was the one to flinch.

Was she some sort of fanatic? No, he saw none of that distinctive insanity in her quiet eyes. 

"How foolish… you know the emperor has descended into madness, yet you still swear your loyalty to him even now?"

"A noble like you could never understand. To us knights, this is our way of life."

"General Deussel deliberately disobeyed Emperor Vigarde. You may think of him as a traitor, but he chose that path because of his sincerity as a knight."

"I know that. I was wrong to call him a traitor. He loves Grado from the very bottom of his heart, and grieves his emperor's fate. He is truly a loyal retainer."

"If you know that much, then why wouldn't you do the same?"

"I am different from General Deussel. I respect his way of life, but I can only choose my way of life."

"You are a fool!" He shouted at her.

Selena nodded gently. "You are right. I agree with you one hundred times over."

"Surrender, Selena! I don't want to have to defeat you!"

"You, defeat me? Don't patronize me, Prince Ephraim. I have no intention of dying here. Now ready your weapon!"

It was already impossible to persuade her any further. Ephraim drew his lance back out from behind him.

Selena swiftly chanted a spell. Ephraim jumped the moment before fire shot from her fingertip, and avoided the attack.

The Grado soldiers initiated their own attacks to guard Selena. The Frelian soldiers standing behind Ephraim also readied their weapons and rushed forward.

Selena expertly steered her horse while also launching attack spells one after the other. Her speed and power amazed Ephraim.

The power that had elevated her to the title of imperial general at such a young age was of course not just for show. To Ephraim, who knew nothing about magic, taking just one good hit would very likely be fatal. 

Ephraim cut down the oncoming Grado soldiers as he avoided Selena's spells. He trudged through the mud-soaked earth, and was soon covered in mud himself.

He was overcome by intense anger so great that he wanted to scream. He did not want to kill a person like Selena. But if he did not kill her, then he would be killed.

His anger gave him strength. He stabbed each Grado soldier that came at him at random intervals, then charged at Selena. The Grado soldiers did not fear his great force, but still slowly backed away. He did not slow down.

"Lord Ephraim…!" His attacks looked so reckless that his allies started to yell at him.

Selena stared down at him from atop her horse with her eyes open as wide as they could be.

He glared at her beautiful face and screamed, "You're such a fool… You're an absolute idiot!"

The moment Ephraim leapt into the air off the muddy ground, a ball of orange fire shot from Selena’s fingertip.

Ephraim did not dodge it. That had never been his intention.

His lance stabbed deep into her side. Her body slumped over, and she fell from her horse.

The soldiers all stopped moving. Ephraim was still breathing heavily when he looked down at Selena. She was trying to get up, but no longer had the strength to do so.

When she lost her remaining strength in her arms and back, the pained expression disappeared from her face. In its place, for the first time since Ephraim had seen her, she was calm.

Her lips moved slightly, so he bent down to try and hear her final words.

 "I'm so tired…" she whispered.  Her eyes slowly closed, and she stopped moving.

"The enemy general has fallen! My army is the victor!"

Ephraim stood up and declared as loudly as he could, causing the panicking Grado soldiers to drop their weapons one after the other. Some of the Grado soldiers fled, but most of them surrendered to Ephraim’s army.

"Please let us heal you, Lord Ephraim!"

The healers called out to him, and Ephraim finally noticed his wounds. The stress he’d been experiencing mentally had kept him from feeling the physical pain, but Selena's fire magic had covered half of his body with serious burns.

Before retiring to his tent, he ordered his soldiers to search Selena’s belongings. They quickly found the stone that she had gone to the village to buy.

If one was told that it was a gemstone, then they could certainly see it. It emitted a strange light, and was very beautiful. Ephraim put it in his breast pocket.

ー

Duessel and Myrrh came to visit Ephraim while he was in the healing tent. It was hard for him to face her.

However, he couldn’t look away. Ephraim pulled the dragonstone out of his pocket, and handed it to Myrrh. “This is your stone, isn’t it?”

Myrrh wrapped her hands around it and took it. “...Yes. It is my stolen dragonstone. But…” Her large eyes were filled with tears. “I am sad. I have gotten back my precious dragonstone, and yet… I am so very, very sad.”

“I’m sorry, Myrrh. I wanted to persuade her somehow, but I couldn’t do it. I… had no choice but to defeat her.”

“I understand. It wasn’t your fault. It is just sad. Even though she was such a good person… Even though she looked so happy when she talked about the emperor…”

Ephraim closed his eyes. The image of Selena, the woman who was still proud to be the emperor's general despite knowing full well of his insanity, was burned into his mind.

“Why can’t it just be bad people, but also good people who must fight? Why can’t we end this without any good people dying?”

Ephraim closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know why either, Myrrh. But I’m going to the capital to search for answers. That is where everything will be made clear.” Ephraim shifted his gaze over towards Duessel, who was standing quietly behind Myrrh. “General Deussel, Selena said that she was wrong to accuse you of being a traitor. She fully understood your true intentions.”

Those words only made Duessel’s expression grow darker. “....When Glen died, I turned my back against the emperor… So she had to bear the weight of all of that all by herself. The only people left around His Majesty now are wicked men like Riev and Valter. Amid all of that, she fought to try and defend her loyalty to His majesty. She couldn’t help having regrets, but… she did not pity herself.”

“I’m so tired…” Ephraim remembered her final words.

Her voice had sounded like all of the life had been sucked out her, but he thought that he had seen peace in her expression. Perhaps it had been the relief of finally being freed from her grueling fight?

Ephraim stood up. Thanks to the diligent care of the healers, he hardly felt the pain of his burns at all any more. “I don’t understand. She was a smart person. She saw that the emperor was not in his right mind. Then why did she continue to serve the emperor, despite that? Surely she should have known that was not the right path…”

“Lord Ephraim. I was born into a family of knights that has served at the capital for generations. I wanted for nothing, and studied combat under a great teacher since I was young. It was obvious that I would be inducted into the knights.”

Ephraim looked straight at Duessel, wondering what he was telling this story for.

“But Selena was different. She was born in a poor, deserted village. She wasn't one to talk about it much, but I heard rumors. The area was always plagued by famine, and they had to sell off their young children just to survive… That is the kind of village I was told it was."

Myrrh timidly opened her mouth. "It's true. She told me about it as well. When I told her about the terrifying powers of the dark stone, she looked very sad… She told me why she continued to trust the emperor. She said that when she was poor, didn't have anything to eat, and everyone was starving and freezing, he sent food…"

Duessel nodded. “I remember that period very well. One year, a terrible cold front assaulted all of Grado, leaving the remote villages in a state of ruin. And the worst among them all was Selena’s birthplace. His Majesty immediately decided to rush to their aid. Most of his vassals spoke out against using any funding for such a reason. It is embarrassing to admit it, but the nobles and officers, living carefree lives in the capital, did not care what happened to the people living in those regions. They would rather thousands of people starve to death if the opposite meant cutting into their incomes and making them do more work… There were many who thought like that. His Majesty rebuked those rotten nobles and had large shipments of food and clothing sent to the remote villages. I served at his side, so I know this very well. His Majesty… what was happening made him cry.”

Ephraim was reminded of Lyon. Knowing that the ordinary citizens suffered and lived in poverty also pained him. That kindness was likely a trait he had inherited from his father. “So Selena became a knight to repay that favor…?”

“That is correct. For a starving, freezing young child who could only wait for death to come for her, nothing could have made her happier than the food sent from the capital… Selena came to the capital only wanting to serve His Majesty, and knocked on the door of the knights’ barracks. When I first met her, she was a raggedy, thin little girl. Some of the knights even laughed at her. They said this child, who was so poor she couldn’t even buy a decent outfit, must be out of her mind. However, I thought she had promise. There was no one else as passionate and pure in their loyalty, even among the knights. She stood out above all others, and gained His Majesty’s trust. Some were envious that she became a general so young, but I thought she was a perfect fit for the promotion. There was no one better to be Grado's… no, His Majesty’s knight." Duessel closed his eyes to hold back his tears.

The emperor, compassionate towards his citizens, who would cry at just the thought of their suffering, had completely and suddenly changed on that fateful day into a cruel invader. Ephraim could only imagine the extent of Selena’s despair and suffering.

“I’m so tired...” It would be nearly impossible for Ephraim to ever erase her final words from his memory in his entire life.

“And it’s all because of the Dark Stone… right? Does this Dark Stone that Lyon created really possess such terrifying power?” Ephraim looked at Myrrh. “Is there any way for us to return the emperor to who he once was? If we destroy the Dark Stone, will the evil controlling him disappear? He'll return to normal, won't he?"

“That… cannot be done.” Myrrh shook her head with a sunken look on her face. “The ominous energy does not simply control a person. It completely changes them. It is as if the stone breaks who they once were, and plants a new personality within them…”

“Are you saying that in other words, Emperor Vigarde’s kind personality is already completely destroyed?” Ephraim whispered with a sigh.

This meant that Selena had died for an emperor who had become an entirely different person on the inside, even though he still looked the same as always on the outside. There was nothing in the world more pitiable.

“Anyway, we will hurry to the capital, and figure out a way to stop Emperor Vigarde’s tyranny. We cannot allow anyone else to become a victim to the Dark Stone.” Ephraim declared, and walked out of the tent.