#but. i have so many friends who are or have been historians [of the ancient world]

[unopenablebox]

god protect and deliver me from the self-inflicted desire to do enough historical research to confidently make expansions and alterations to this medieval fantasy nonsense setting

[faebled-stories]

The Touch of Time

Kinkvember Day 15: Breeding

Aespa Winter (Kim Minjeong) x Male reader

11.6k words

AN: We are halfway done! This is the longest fic so far, I really enjoyed the concept. Thank you all for the continuous support💖

In the distant future, humanity had shed many of the biological “weaknesses” that once defined it. From the moment of birth, every individual was fitted with a slim, almost invisible patch on their abdomen. This patch, designed to suppress primal desires and impulses, was hailed as a revolutionary step forward in the control of human behavior. Gone were the distractions of physical intimacy, the emotional turbulence tied to desire, and the chaotic unpredictability of natural reproduction.

DNA was now quietly harvested from a simple strand of hair, and reproduction took place in sterile laboratories, pristine and efficient. Physical touch, especially in the context of intimacy, was considered primitive, even taboo—an unnecessary relic of a less evolved past.

Minjeong, a young historian with an insatiable curiosity for the “old ways,” had always felt slightly out of place in this world. Her field of study focused on the intricacies of ancient human customs, the rituals and behaviors that had once bound people together. She spent her days in archives and libraries, poring over fragments of lives long gone.

Sometimes, in moments of quiet reflection, she wondered what it might have been like to live in a time when physical connection hadn’t been stifled by a patch. Yet, even with her questions, she had never truly dared to challenge the norms she had grown up with—until the day she discovered the book.

It was hidden, almost intentionally, in a shadowed corner of the university's vast, neglected library, coated in dust as if the world had tried to forget it. The cover was nondescript, worn smooth by time, with no title to hint at its contents. But as Minjeong opened it, a chill crept down her spine, and her heart began to pound.

The pages held something she had only read about in the most clinical terms: they described, in startling detail, how humans had once procreated—naturally, through touch, mutual pleasure, and deep, emotional connection. These words, so evocative and raw, held an intimacy she had never encountered, not even in fleeting dreams. The patch she wore had always silenced any stray curiosity about such things, but now, as she read each vivid passage, something unfamiliar and undeniable began to awaken inside her.

As she pored over the descriptions, a strange, tingling warmth spread through her body. She could hardly believe what she was reading—the language spoke of touch, skin meeting skin, the rush of unrestrained joy, sensations too elusive to truly grasp, yet undeniably alluring. She felt a pull, as though the book was leading her somewhere deeper within herself, a place she hadn’t known existed.

She kept reading, page after page, her cheeks flushing, her breath catching at times as she envisioned the “lost art” of human connection. What would it feel like, she wondered, to touch another person like that? To be touched, to share in a pleasure as mutual and instinctive as the book described.

Unable to contain her fascination, Minjeong decided to share her discovery with her friends. She met Karina, Giselle, and Ningning at their usual café, a sleek establishment with an atmosphere as controlled and pristine as the society it served. They were her closest friends, the only ones who tolerated her historical musings, though they saw them as mere eccentricities.

As they sipped on perfectly brewed coffee, Minjeong took a deep breath, gathering the courage to explain.

“So,” Minjeong began, her voice edged with excitement and trepidation, “I found this book in the library. It’s about... how humans used to procreate, you know, before the patch system.”

Giselle’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out a dismissive laugh. “Oh, here we go again. Minjeong, your obsession with ancient history is cute and all, but nobody wants to hear about people being all... gross and sweaty with each other.”

Minjeong’s face fell, but she pushed on, determined. “It’s not gross. It’s fascinating. The book describes the way they used to connect physically—how touch meant something. They had this thing called ‘orgasms,’ where their bodies would—”

“Orgasms?” Karina interrupted, giggling incredulously. “You mean, like, they’d enjoy rubbing up against each other? Like animals? That’s seriously disgusting.”

Ningning made a face, shaking her head. “I mean, why would anyone want that? We’ve evolved past that kind of stuff for a reason. I can’t even imagine wanting someone to touch me like that. Ugh.”

Minjeong’s cheeks flushed, but she pressed on, hoping to convey what she had felt while reading. “But don’t you see? It wasn’t just about the physical. The book talks about an emotional bond, a connection we can’t even comprehend anymore. Doesn’t that make you curious?”

Giselle leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Curious? More like horrified. People used to waste time on that nonsense when we have perfectly good tech now. Why would anyone choose to go back to those primitive, messy days?”

Ningning chimed in, her tone a mix of disbelief and pity. “And for what, unnie? So we could feel... what exactly? A little thrill? That’s why we have simulations and sensory upgrades. Why would you even want something so... physical?”

“It’s not about just feeling something,” Minjeong said softly, though her voice shook. “It’s about connection. The book talks about something that went beyond just pleasure or physicality. It describes a bond, an intimacy that’s emotional, even spiritual. Don’t you ever wonder what that would be like?”

Her friends exchanged glances, almost as if they were silently agreeing that Minjeong had gone a step too far.

Karina crossed her arms, her expression guarded. “Honestly, Minjeong, you’re starting to sound a little obsessed. You’ve read too many old books, and now you’re idealizing a time when people barely understood themselves, let alone each other. It’s sad, really, how desperate they were.”

“Yeah,” Ningning agreed, shaking her head slowly. “You’re talking about a past that’s been left behind for a reason. I mean, if it was so great, why didn’t people keep doing it? They moved on, unnie. We all have.”

The conversation shifted soon after, with the others eagerly diving into discussions of their daily lives, work, and the latest technological advancements. Minjeong felt a heavy ache in her chest as she realized her friends couldn’t understand, and worse, they had no desire to try.

She thought of the book’s vivid descriptions—the gentle brush of fingers on skin, the shared gasps of pleasure, the promise of something deeper than she had ever known. It was as if she had stumbled upon a secret hidden within herself, and now, in the presence of her friends, that secret felt more precious but also more isolating.

Karina glanced at her, almost scolding. “Listen, Minjeong, you should probably stop reading stuff like that before it gets too far into your head. You’ll end up wanting things that just... don’t exist anymore.”

As they laughed and changed the subject, Minjeong stayed quiet, her mind lingering on the words in the book, replaying them in her thoughts like a forbidden melody. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the book was more than just a historical relic. It was a portal to something lost yet profoundly human—something she had been denied all her life.

Over the next few days, Minjeong’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about the book. The descriptions of intimacy, of deep pleasure, and undeniable connection replayed in her head, each line lingering like a tantalizing whisper. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had glimpsed something profound, something long buried beneath the surface of her controlled world. The idea of experiencing real touch, raw and unfiltered, was impossible to ignore.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, she decided to track down the author. The book seemed modern enough that she guessed its writer might still be alive. Hours of searching through online records and old archives finally led her to a name, yours.

She imagined you as an older scholar, perhaps with a lifetime of wisdom etched into your eyes—a figure hardened by years of research and deep understanding. But when she met you, her expectations unraveled. You were young, intense, and enigmatic, with a kind of fire in your gaze that spoke of passions and convictions hidden beneath the surface. In your eyes, she saw something she hadn’t expected: the same fascination with the past, the same relentless hunger to understand what had been lost.

Sitting across from each other in a quiet café, Minjeong couldn’t help but notice how differently you seemed to see the world. As you talked, your expressions shifted with each thought, a flash of yearning in your eyes that mirrored her own. Your voice carried a weight, each word carefully chosen as if guarding a truth no one else would understand.

“It’s strange,” she murmured, stirring her tea slowly, gathering her thoughts. “I’ve spent so long studying history, but I never realized how disconnected I feel from… everything. And then I read your book, and it felt like something inside me woke up, something that had been quiet my entire life.”

You leaned forward, a softness in your gaze that made her feel seen. “I know exactly what you mean,” you replied, your voice low and warm. “That’s why I wrote it. I wanted to preserve something real, something that made us human. The world today—it’s too sanitized, too empty. The patch has robbed us of something vital, something that our ancestors once cherished.”

She paused, uncertain whether to share her feelings about the reactions she’d faced from her friends. But your understanding eyes, the way you listened as if her words were precious, made her feel safe.

“My friends… they don’t understand,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “They think it’s disgusting to even consider physical touch or intimacy. When I tried to tell them about the book, they laughed. They don’t want to imagine it, let alone experience it. I feel… so alone.”

Your expression softened as you listened, and you hesitated just a moment before reaching out, your hand hovering near hers. The space between your fingers felt charged, almost electric. “You’re not alone, Minjeong,” you said, voice steady yet full of emotion. “I’ve thought about it constantly, too. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to take off the patch… to feel something real. But… I’ve never met anyone who would even consider it.”

Her heart pounded at your words, the thought flickering to life in her mind. She had been wondering the same thing for days—the possibility of removing the patch and experiencing everything the book described. Just imagining it made her pulse quicken, filling her with equal parts excitement and apprehension.

“Do you think…” Minjeong hesitated, searching your face. “Do you think we could try it? Take off the patch?”

You looked at her in surprise, something deeper stirring in your eyes—a longing that mirrored her own. “You mean… actually take it off?” you murmured. “You know it’s illegal, right?”

She nodded, feeling her breath catch, a flutter of thrill and nerves swelling in her chest. “Yes. I know. But… I want to know what it’s like. With you.” She paused, swallowing. “We just met but... I trust you.”

The air around you seemed to shift, growing thicker with the unspoken possibility lingering between you. Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing gently against her arm, and even this slight contact sent a jolt through her, a strange warmth spreading from the place where your skin met hers.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice soft, eyes locked on hers. “Once we do this, Minjeong, we can’t go back.”

She met your gaze, her heart pounding, her face flushed with a mixture of excitement and something else—an ache she couldn’t explain. “I’m sure.”

The decision was made. Together, you prepared to take a step into the unknown, an act that felt both terrifying and thrilling. Moving in tandem towards stillness of your apartment, everything seemed sharper, as though the air itself were holding its breath with you. Minjeong lay down on your bed, her breathing shallow, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

With a steadying breath, she began to strip, her movements deliberate and unhurried. She lifted her shirt over her head, revealing smooth, bare skin and the soft fabric of her bra hugging her form. Her fingers hesitated briefly before slipping down to unbutton her pants, sliding them off her legs until she stood there, clad only in her bra and panties. The small, smooth patch on her abdomen glinted faintly in the soft light—a mark of society’s control that had rested there for as long as she could remember.

To Minjeong, that patch represented a lifetime of safety, control, and order. It was all she had ever known, a constant presence that quieted any restless stirrings she might have felt. And yet, now, with you beside her, that little patch seemed more like a barrier—a thin, deceptive shield that stood between her and a life of real, unbridled sensation. For the first time, she felt ready to shed it.

You knelt beside her, heart hammering as your fingers hovered just above her skin. A thousand questions flickered in your mind, but one glance at Minjeong’s face told you she felt the same determination you did. This was an uncharted intimacy, raw and vulnerable, and as you gently laid your hand on her side, you felt the heat of her skin, warm and alive beneath your touch.

“Are you ready?” you asked softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, as though the room could be shattered by any louder sound.

Minjeong’s eyes met yours, filled with a trust so complete it took your breath away. She nodded, her voice a delicate thread. “I trust you.”

With a deep breath, you carefully examined the patch, your fingers brushing over its edges, searching for the small, hidden stitches. You had studied its design and knew the mechanics, but this was different. Here was Minjeong, lying before you, vulnerable, willing to let you unlock something deeply forbidden.

Your fingers found the first stitch, and with painstaking care, you began to unfasten it. Each small movement felt weighted with meaning, every shift of your hand a step further into the unknown. As you worked, a tiny prick of resistance tugged back each time you pulled at a stitch, as though the patch itself knew what you were doing, as though it was reluctant to release its hold.

A soft, sharp gasp escaped Minjeong’s lips halfway through, her hand instinctively reaching for you. She clutched your arm tightly, her grip firm yet trembling as she squeezed. Her breaths came quicker, each inhale shallow, as though her body itself were already bracing for the world that lay beyond the patch’s control.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, voice gentle and soothing. You brushed your thumb softly against her arm, steadying her. “Hang in there, okay?”

Your words seemed to ground her, and slowly, she nodded, her face easing as she held onto you. The tension in her shoulders melted just enough for you to continue, and she focused on your voice, your touch, letting the pain drift away.

Finally, the last stitch slipped free. The patch gave way with a faint click, and as you lifted it, Minjeong’s entire body tensed, then softened in a single, breathless moment. Her eyes widened, a gasp catching in her throat as a strange warmth began to spread beneath her skin.

It felt like an electric current, a gentle buzz awakening nerves that had long been asleep. Her pulse quickened, beating fiercely against her ribs, echoing in her ears as her senses seemed to open, stretching in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

The air felt sharper, the softness of the bed more pronounced against her back, the sound of your breathing louder, more intimate. A flush rose to her cheeks, and she blinked up at you, her gaze dazed, overwhelmed by the torrent of sensations flooding her.

Your own breath hitched as you watched her, feeling the weight of her unguarded trust, the openness in her gaze. Her vulnerability mirrored your own, and it gave you the courage to act. With a steeling breath, you reached for your patch, the small, oppressive mark that had governed your life for so long.

Your fingers trembled as you slipped them beneath its edges, the adhesive resisting your touch. Heart pounding, you braced yourself for the pain. Gritting your teeth, you tugged hard. A sharp, searing ache ripped through your side, fiery and almost unbearable, as if the patch was trying to hold on, refusing to let go of the control it had over you.

But then it came free, leaving your skin raw and tingling, and you gasped, clutching the small device in your hand.

As the pain faded, a new sensation filled the space it left—a pulse of energy that rushed through your body, illuminating every nerve. The world sharpened around you, clearer, more vivid, as though a veil had been lifted. The faint hum of distant noises, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed—everything felt magnified, brimming with a life you had never felt before.

For a moment, the two of you simply sat there, eyes wide, barely able to process the surge of sensations overwhelming you both. Each heartbeat, each breath, seemed to resonate with newfound depth, rippling through you in waves.

You looked at her, marveling at the transformation in her expression, her eyes wide and glistening with wonder. She looked back, her face a reflection of the awe you felt, a silent affirmation that you were both feeling something real, something profound.

“Do you feel it?” you asked softly, voice hushed with reverence, your gaze locked with hers.

Minjeong nodded, her lips parting as her voice came in a soft, breathless whisper. “I feel… everything.”

Without the patch, every touch, every brush of skin felt magnified, alive with a rawness that left Minjeong dizzy. Her senses felt heightened, each nerve sparking as if awakened for the first time. The air seemed thicker, charged with an energy she could almost taste, and her skin buzzed with an unfamiliar intensity. When you reached out, gently placing your hand on her thigh, her entire body jolted as a wave of warmth spread from where your hand rested, pulsing outward. Her breath hitched, her heart thudding as she instinctively leaned into your touch, craving more of this strange, electric feeling she couldn’t name.

Your hand moved slowly, almost reverently, sliding higher as your fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin. Each tiny movement sent sparks through her body, lighting up places within her that had been silent all her life. Minjeong’s body quivered, her skin hyperaware of every inch you touched, as if your fingers were leaving trails of fire in their wake. Her hips shifted involuntarily, her body responding to you with an eagerness she barely understood but couldn’t resist.

When your fingers brushed over the delicate place between her legs, a flood of sensation hit her, and her control snapped, unraveling as her entire being reacted to that single touch. The pressure, the intensity—it was overwhelming. She felt her body arch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as a surge of heat radiated through her, more powerful than anything she could have imagined.

“Oh—oh my God,” Minjeong gasped, her voice trembling as her hips bucked against your hand, her body acting on instincts that felt both new and achingly familiar.

You froze for a moment, watching her with wide eyes as her body trembled under your touch. Minjeong’s breath came in short, desperate bursts, her chest rising and falling as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure surged within her. She reached out, clutching at your arm as if you were her anchor, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of awe, confusion, and something else—a deep, unspoken yearning.

“What’s happening to me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, breathless, as her body shook, caught in a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You looked down at her, your gaze filled with understanding and warmth, as if you knew exactly what she was feeling. Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, you leaned closer, your voice low and soothing. “I... I think you just had an orgasm.”

The word echoed in her mind, stirring memories of the book’s descriptions—the culmination of human intimacy, the apex of physical connection that had always seemed like a distant concept.

She remembered the clinical language, the detached explanations, and realized just how shallow those words had been. They hadn’t prepared her for this—something so consuming, so raw it made her feel as though she was discovering a part of herself that had been hidden all her life.

Her fingers tightened around your arm, anchoring herself as she felt the aftershocks ripple through her, each one leaving her a little more breathless. “That was... an orgasm?” she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder and disbelief.

You nodded, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you watched her, your expression filled with tenderness and awe. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Just like in the book... but maybe better than either of us ever imagined.”

Minjeong lay back, her mind reeling, as her body continued to hum with the afterglow of pleasure. She felt alive, awake in a way she’d never known before, as though she’d unlocked something deeply hidden within her. She had just experienced an orgasm—something her body had been denied all her life, a sensation so visceral it left her trembling.

“I... I didn’t think it would feel like that,” She admitted, her voice soft and still a bit unsteady. She looked up at you, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide. “It felt... so much more than anything I read. It was like... like I was completely free, like I’d let go of something I’d been holding onto forever.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing her cheek in a gentle, grounding touch. Your gaze was steady, filled with warmth, as if you truly understood what she was feeling. “It’s different when you experience it,” you said softly, your voice soothing. “The patch kept it all locked away for so long... it makes sense it would feel this intense.”

As the waves of her orgasm began to subside, a new feeling stirred within Minjeong—an instinctual curiosity, an urge she hadn’t anticipated. She felt an almost primal desire to reciprocate, to touch you the way you had touched her. If her body had responded so powerfully, so completely, to your touch, what would happen if she reached out to you?

The thought of seeing you experience that same kind of release, of watching your body tremble and surrender to pleasure, sent a fresh surge of excitement coursing through her, a thrill that made her heartbeat quicken.

Without hesitation, she shifted closer, her fingers reaching out tentatively to trace a line down your stomach. The feeling of your skin under her fingertips felt both foreign and exhilarating. She could feel your muscles tense beneath her touch, your breath hitching as her hand drifted lower, guided by a mixture of curiosity and a lingering echo of the sensations she’d just experienced.

Her movements were deliberate yet hesitant, testing the boundaries of her newfound courage. Slowly, Minjeong’s fingers found the waistband of your pants. With a slight glance up, her gaze met yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. When she found none, she hooked her fingers into the fabric, tugging them down along with your boxers in a single motion, exposing you completely. Her breath hitched, her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t stop.

Her hand moved with a new confidence, wrapping around you gently, the warmth of her touch sending a jolt through your body. You exhaled sharply, the sensation overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but notice the way your body responded instantly to her. A soft groan escaped your lips, your hips shifting slightly toward her touch as if your body was seeking more.

She began to move her hand slowly, cautiously, her strokes experimental but deliberate, guided by what she’d read and a deep, unspoken desire to bring you the same kind of pleasure she’d just felt. The weight and heat beneath her palm were new, almost intoxicating, as she adjusted to the rhythm that seemed to draw those delicious, throaty sounds from you.

“Minjeong…” Your voice was low, breathless, your eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and desire. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she whispered, her determination evident in the way her strokes became more confident. “I want you to feel what I felt.”

Her hand moved steadily, her touch becoming bolder as your body reacted to her. She felt the tension ripple through your muscles, your breathing growing heavier with every passing moment. Each groan, each subtle arch of your hips, sent a shiver down her spine, fueling her desire to keep going.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as her pace quickened, her strokes more purposeful now. The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and soft moans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you. She watched your face, captivated, as the tension in your body built toward an inevitable release, your hips moving in time with her hand in a desperate, instinctual rhythm.

Minjeong’s curiosity got the better of her as she adjusted her position, leaning closer to get a better look. Her eyes lingered on every detail, mesmerized by how your body responded to her touch. She wanted to see everything, to witness the effect she had on you up close. Her hand continued its rhythm, her strokes steady and deliberate, her lips slightly parted in concentration as her gaze stayed fixed on you.

Then, with a deep, guttural moan, your body tensed, your muscles tightening as your climax surged through you. Minjeong’s eyes widened as she felt the first sudden, hot burst against her hand. She gasped in surprise, her heart pounding as she watched, unable to look away. The release was powerful, shooting hard and fast, catching her completely off guard.

A warm streak hit her cheek and trailed down to her jaw, while more landed on her neck and pooled in her hands. Her breath hitched as she stared, her lips parting in astonishment at the sight. The moment felt surreal, intimate, and raw, leaving her stunned and unsure of what to say or do.

Her face flushed a deep red as she glanced up at you, her hand still resting lightly against you. “Oh my God,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Did I… did we waste it? I-It’s supposed to… you know… go inside.” Her gaze flicked nervously between you and the evidence pooling in her hands, uncertainty clouding her features.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came down from the high, your body still trembling slightly from the intensity. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, the glazed expression softening as you met her worried gaze. A gentle smile tugged at your lips, and you let out a low, reassuring chuckle.

“No, Minjeong,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You didn’t mess up. This… this is normal. You did everything right.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, her lips curving into a shy, tentative smile as she glanced down at the evidence of her effect on you. Still holding it in her hands, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Despite her initial embarrassment, a flicker of pride warmed her chest—she’d brought you to this moment, and it filled her with an intoxicating mix of exhilaration and wonder.

Minjeong’s gaze lingered on her hands, her fingers glistening with the warm remnants of your release. A curious expression crossed her face as she processed everything, her mind racing. She had read about this before—about the way a man’s body reacted at the height of pleasure—but witnessing it firsthand, feeling the heat of it against her skin, was entirely different. It was raw, intimate, and strangely captivating.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she continued to look, her curiosity getting the better of her. Almost without thinking, she tilted her hand, letting a small trail of it slide down her finger. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at you as if seeking silent permission. Then, emboldened by the heat still lingering between you, she brought her finger to her lips.

The taste was unexpected—salty, slightly bitter—but it sent a shudder through her, her body reacting instinctively. Her cheeks flushed a deeper red as she licked her lips, the unfamiliar sensation heightening the arousal already simmering within her. The intimacy of the act, the knowledge that it came from you, made her heartbeat quicken.

Minjeong glanced up at you, her eyes dark with unspoken emotion, the lingering taste on her lips seeming to ignite something deeper within her. “It’s… different,” she murmured, her voice soft but filled with a quiet, almost shy desire. Yet there was no mistaking the spark in her gaze as she leaned closer, her curiosity and arousal intertwining in a way that left her yearning for more.

“But… what now?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain. “Does it… does it take a long time to… I don’t know… come back?”

A gentle smile spread across your face as you reached for the edge of the blanket, wiping yourself clean, your gaze warm and understanding. “No, not as long as you’d think,” you replied softly. “Just give me a minute… trust me, with the way I’m feeling right now? It won’t take long.”

Minjeong’s cheeks flushed as she felt the tension still pulsing between them, an intensity that hadn’t faded but had only grown stronger. Though her body had already released once, it was still alive with a hum of anticipation, craving more of the closeness that had only begun to reveal itself. Her skin felt sensitive, every inch of her alive and awake, and the desire that lingered between you both seemed almost endless.

As you pulled her close, your breath warm against her ear, your voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper. “The desire… it’s unbearable, isn’t it? We’ve held it back for so long… now that it’s free, it’s hard to stop.”

She nodded, her own breath catching as she leaned into you, feeling the heat radiating from your body. “I didn’t think it would be like this,” she whispered, her voice soft and filled with wonder. “It’s like… I can’t get enough.”

Your hands drifted down her back, fingers tracing slow, delicate paths that sent tingles down her spine, igniting her senses further. With deliberate care, you reached for the clasp of her bra, unhooking it and sliding the straps down her arms, exposing her to your gaze. She shivered under your touch, the anticipation in her eyes mirrored by the rising heat between you. Gently, you guided her panties down her hips, leaving her completely bare before you.

You leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to her neck, shoulders, and collarbone, each one drawing a soft gasp from her lips. Your mouth trailed lower, worshipping her with every kiss as you explored her body, your lips brushing against her chest, stomach, and hips. The warmth of your touch and the intimacy of your kisses set her skin ablaze, her body trembling beneath you as your affection deepened the connection between you.

She could feel you stirring beneath her, your body responding just as eagerly, recovering quickly and pressing against her with a palpable urgency. Her heart raced, her pulse quickening as she realized just how deeply this hunger ran—not fading, but growing, expanding with each heartbeat, filling every part of her with a yearning she hadn’t known was possible.

Her voice barely a whisper, she looked up at you, her cheeks flushed with desire. “I… I want to do it again.”

A flicker of something intense crossed your gaze, desire deepening in your eyes as her words sank in. You leaned in close, your fingers trailing down her stomach with a deliberate slowness, and her body reacted to your touch as if it had been waiting for it all along, each caress building a tension that left her breathless. “Me too,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “We can take our time… explore every part of this together.”

Minjeong felt her pulse quicken as your hand drifted lower, each touch more confident, and yet filled with care. There was no rush this time—each movement, each gentle caress felt purposeful, as though you were savoring every moment. Her breath hitched as your fingers found her center, brushing over her with a tenderness that set her body alight. She could feel her hips lifting involuntarily, craving more of your touch, her body arching toward you, completely attuned to the rhythm you were setting.

But you held back, your movements measured, each stroke a deliberate invitation to surrender. Minjeong’s hands gripped the sheets, her fingers twisting in them as she fought to keep some sense of control, but every motion of your hand sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her, slowly eroding any restraint she had left. Her mind was hazy, her thoughts blurred as she gave in to the sensations, letting herself feel every spark, every touch.

Your voice, soft and steady, cut through the haze, anchoring her. “I’ll follow what the book says,” you murmured, your tone reassuring yet filled with quiet excitement. “But you can tell me if anything feels too intense… we can go as slow as you want.”

She met your gaze, her eyes filled with trust and anticipation, nodding as her voice caught in her throat. She watched as you reached for the book—the one you’d written, your meticulous research woven into its pages—flipping to a section that you both had studied countless times. Back then, the words were abstract, a roadmap for a journey neither of you had truly embarked on. Now, they felt vivid, alive, as you stood on the edge of turning theory into reality.

Your voice was steady but tinged with wonder as you read aloud, revisiting the descriptions of intimacy that had once seemed so clinical. “This part,” you murmured, “it’s about connection—real, physical connection. It says to feel, not just to touch. To be present in every moment.”

You set the book down beside you, your hands trembling slightly as they moved to her skin. Following your own written guidance, you traced a line down her arm, feeling the softness of her flesh, your touch lingering. “Even after all my research,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, “I never understood how different this would feel. How real.”

Minjeong shivered at your words, her lips parting as your fingers brushed her thigh, gliding lower to gently spread her legs. Her breath hitched, her body already responding to the unspoken promise in your touch. “It says to let the connection build naturally,” you continued, your tone soft yet deliberate. “No rushing, no hesitation… just us.”

Your hand slid between her folds, your fingers moving slowly, reverently, as if committing every detail to memory. Her hips bucked instinctively against your touch, and the sound of her soft moan filled the room. The book’s instructions felt distant now, a framework that was giving way to something far more instinctual, far more profound.

As you continued to explore, positioning yourself over her, you kept your gaze on her, your eyes holding a mixture of tenderness and longing. “According to this,” you murmured, your voice soft and steady, “I’m supposed to… enter you slowly. We can take it at your pace… but once we both reach our climax… I’m meant to stay inside, to hold that connection.”

Her heart pounded, but she nodded eagerly, the words barely leaving her lips as she whispered, “I want that… I want to feel it all.”

With a careful, gentle movement, you positioned your shaft and slowly entered her. The both of you stilled, caught in the shared intensity of the sensation. A rush of warmth spread between you, each of you feeling the other in a way that was beyond description.

Minjeong’s hands found your back, her fingers pressing into your skin as she closed her eyes, losing herself in the overwhelming sensations that pulsed through her. It felt as though her entire being had awakened, each nerve attuned to the rhythm you created together.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost missed your voice breaking the quiet.

“So, apparently,” you began, glancing down at the book with a look of intrigued curiosity, “if two people share an emotional connection, every touch, every sensation can deepen the experience. It says to explore, to learn each other’s bodies, to let it build naturally.”

Her breath hitched as your words settled in the space between you, her body already trembling beneath yours as you began to move again. The slow, deliberate rhythm of your thrusts made every nerve in her body feel alive, each motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through her. She met your gaze, her vulnerability mirrored in the unspoken trust you shared.

You leaned closer, trailing soft, deliberate kisses along her neck, letting your lips linger on her skin. She shivered at the warmth of your mouth, your movements in sync with the rhythm of your hips. Her breath hitched again as you moved lower, your lips brushing against the sensitive curve of her collarbone before descending to her chest. Her body trembled as you kissed her nipples, your tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before your lips wrapped around it.

The sensation was overwhelming, an electric jolt that combined with the fullness of you inside her, making her arch instinctively beneath you. When you began to suck gently, a soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, her hands clutching at the sheets as the intensity of the moment consumed her. Each thrust seemed to amplify the pleasure, the combined sensations creating a crescendo of raw emotion and physical connection.

Her mind raced, her heart pounding as waves of pleasure built steadily within her, each one more powerful than the last. Every pull of your lips, every flick of your tongue, every deliberate movement of your body within hers heightened the connection between you, making her feel more vulnerable and alive than she ever thought possible.

She arched into you, her body moving instinctively in time with yours, her breathing growing shallow and uneven. “This,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, “it’s so much more than I ever thought it could be.” Her words were punctuated by gasps and soft cries, her body surrendering completely to the rhythm you shared.

Each touch, each calculated movement between you was designed to bring you both closer to that edge, but neither of you rushed.

Minjeong felt lost, spinning in the sensations as you guided her towards a second climax, your every touch bringing her closer to that peak once more.

“I’m close again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling, her body tensing in anticipation. “I can feel it…”

“Me too,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. Your hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as you moved with her, your breath hot against her skin. “Let’s do it together.”

Your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, your pace quickening as the tension built between you, an energy so intense that Minjeong felt it vibrating through her very core. Her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps as her hands gripped your shoulders, feeling the second wave building within her, ready to crest.

The pressure was unbearable, the heat flooding through her body as you moved together, faster, harder, each movement pushing her closer to the edge.

“Now,” you whispered, your voice tight with urgency, as if holding back any longer was impossible. “Now, Minjeong.”

Minjeong’s body surrendered completely, her second orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. The sensation was all-consuming, rippling through her in waves that seemed to touch every nerve, every hidden corner of her being.

Her back arched sharply, her head tipping back as her mouth parted in a breathless, almost desperate gasp. The pleasure was unlike anything she had ever known—raw, overwhelming, and deeply intimate.

Her legs wrapped tightly around you, instinctively pulling you closer, as if anchoring herself to you in the midst of her climax. The intensity of the moment only heightened as her inner walls clenched rhythmically around you, pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat.

Each contraction was powerful, drawing you deeper, her body gripping you with an unrelenting tightness that seemed to plead for more, to keep you there, locked in this moment of shared ecstasy.

She felt the warmth of your release flooding her, a sensation that sent an unexpected jolt through her body. It was an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling, the heat spreading within her and amplifying her pleasure to a level she hadn’t thought possible. It was raw, primal, and so deeply intimate that it made her tremble in your arms, her body shuddering as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

For you, the feeling was equally overwhelming. Her inner walls milked you with a desperate, almost unrelenting rhythm, each squeeze sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. It felt as though her body was drawing out every drop, holding you tightly in a way that made it impossible to hold back. A deep, guttural moan tore from your lips as you gave in completely, the force of your release leaving you trembling.

Each pulse of your release was matched by her contractions, the two of you locked in a perfect, instinctual rhythm. Her warmth surrounded you, heightening the intensity of your climax, every squeeze of her body dragging out the pleasure, making it feel endless. The connection between you was palpable, an unspoken understanding communicated in every motion, every sound, every shared breath.

Minjeong’s cries blended with your own, the room filled with the raw, unfiltered sounds of pleasure. As your climax subsided, the echoes of her soft moans and trembling gasps remained, lingering in the air. You stayed buried within her, her legs still wrapped around you, her arms pulling you close as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

Both of you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly consumed by the intensity of what you had just shared—a moment that transcended the physical, leaving an indelible mark on both of your hearts.

For a brief, perfect moment, it was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you, entwined and breathless, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of what you had just experienced. The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths, rising and falling together as you clung to each other, feeling the lingering aftershocks of pleasure resonate between you.

Minjeong’s chest rose and fell in sync with yours as she held onto you, her heartbeat slowing as she grounded herself in the warmth and weight of your embrace. The sensation of being so close, so in tune, left her feeling utterly content, yet completely vulnerable.

Each time she felt you shift or tighten your hold, she felt the memory of each pulse, each lingering sensation, flooding her with a gentle warmth, a comfort she hadn’t realized she’d been craving.

Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back as she lay there, absorbing the reality of what you had shared. She felt every lingering pulse within her, each subtle echo of your release, and the closeness left her feeling both exhilarated and deeply moved. She looked up at you, her eyes soft, a small smile on her lips, still too overwhelmed to find words but hoping you could feel the depth of what this moment meant to her.

You brushed a strand of hair from her face, your gaze filled with a tenderness that matched her own, and pulled her close, holding her as you both soaked in the quiet intimacy. The connection between you was more than either of you had expected—something that reached beyond the physical, beyond what words could express. And for now, the world outside could wait.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke, your voice soft and filled with a wonder that mirrored her own. “That was… more than I ever imagined.”

Minjeong nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak. Her body buzzed with lingering aftershocks of pleasure, her mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of what she’d just experienced. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel so much, to connect so deeply with another person.

“The book didn’t even come close,” she whispered, her voice trembling as emotions welled up within her. “I didn’t know… it could be like this.”

A gentle smile played on your lips as you brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking at her with a gaze filled with understanding and affection. “Neither did I,” you replied softly. “I can’t believe we went our whole lives without that.”

You lay together in the quiet of the room, still tangled in each other’s embrace, your bodies warm and relaxed as you both reflected on what had just happened. The weight of your decision to remove the patches, the overwhelming intensity of your shared experiences, and the depth of the connection that had formed left both of you in awe. Minjeong realized then, with a clarity that made her heart ache, that she couldn’t go back to the way things were. Not after this.

A warmth stirred within her, different from before—not just curiosity or experimentation, but something deeper, something that felt like an unstoppable need. Her body craved you, not just to explore, but as if she were drawn to you in a way she couldn’t fully explain. The thought of being close to you again, feeling your touch, sent shivers through her entire body.

You noticed her subtle movement, the way she shifted against you, and gently ran your fingers through her hair. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, your voice filled with care and understanding.

Minjeong looked up at you, her heart pounding as her eyes met yours. The connection felt stronger now, more intense, like a current running between you that couldn’t be ignored. “I… I need you again,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Your eyes darkened, a spark of need flashing as you took in her words. Your hand slid down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her body against yours. “Already?” you asked with a faint smile, though your voice betrayed the hunger that mirrored her own.

“I can’t help it,” Minjeong admitted, her cheeks flushing as her body pressed against you, feeling every inch of you against her. “I can’t stop thinking about it… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your expression softened as you held her close, sensing the depth of her need and responding with your own. The air thickened between you as you both gave in once more, realizing that the bond you had unlocked wasn’t something that could be silenced or ignored

She felt you stir beside her, your body responding immediately to the heat in her words. The hunger within her sharpened, an intense, primal need that was more than just physical. It was something deeper, something raw and instinctual that seemed to awaken with every heartbeat, urging her closer to you. Her body ached to feel you again, to pull you closer in every way, and the intensity of her need made her breath catch.

Your hands roamed over her body, your touch igniting a fire beneath her skin. The anticipation sent a thrill through her, her pulse racing as she took you in, the desire radiating off both of you like a palpable heat.

“I want to feel you again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of her need. “I want you to… to keep going… to keep bre—”

She hesitated, her cheeks flushing, searching for the right words as her eyes met yours. But you seemed to understand without her needing to say it. Your hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as your gaze locked with hers, filled with both passion and tenderness.

“To keep breeding you?” you murmured, your voice thick with both lust and affection.

Her body reacted instantly, a hot wave of sensation spreading through her at your words. The idea of it—of you filling her again and again, the intimacy of it, the unbreakable connection it represented—was overwhelming. She felt her breath hitch as she nodded, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering touch.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “I want you to breed me… again and again.”

A soft groan escaped your lips at her words, and you adjusted her position, your hands sliding beneath her thighs as you pushed her legs up, resting them on your shoulders. The shift folded her body slightly under your weight, her knees pressed close to her chest as you leaned into her, your body flush against hers. The angle sent a shiver through her as the anticipation built, her heart racing as she felt your hands gripping her hips firmly.

Slowly, you pressed into her, her body stretching to accommodate you, the familiar pressure igniting every nerve in her body. Minjeong gasped, her head falling back against the pillow as the sensation overwhelmed her. The new angle made everything feel more intense—every inch of you seemed to reach deeper, filling her completely in a way that made her toes curl.

Her hands gripped your arms as her hips instinctively rolled forward, meeting your movements as you began to thrust into her, slow and deliberate at first. Each motion sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, her back arching as you leaned further into her, your weight pressing her firmly into the bed.

The pleasure was electrifying, each thrust bringing her closer to the edge, her body trembling beneath you. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as your pace quickened. Her body folded under your weight as you leaned forward, driving her deeper into the bed.

Your hands slid up her sides, trembling with urgency, before cupping her face gently, your thumbs brushing over her flushed cheeks. The contrast of your tender touch against the intensity of your movements made her gasp, her soft, breathy moans growing louder as you pressed her further into the mattress.

“Minjeong,” you groaned, your voice thick with need, your gaze locking onto hers. Her flushed cheeks and parted lips only spurred you on, the sight of her beneath you, completely vulnerable and lost in the moment, driving you closer to the brink.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her fingers clung to your shoulders, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I’m completely yours.”

Her words ignited something primal in you, and your movements grew faster, deeper, the new angle amplifying the sensation for both of you. Her body tightened around you, her inner walls gripping you with each thrust, milking you for everything you had. The pressure building within her was almost unbearable, her core aching for release as her muscles clenched and fluttered around you.

Overcome by the intimacy of the moment, you leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her soft, eager response heightened everything, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored the rhythm of your bodies. The warmth of her mouth, the way she gasped into the kiss, made every nerve in your body feel electrified.

As your lips pressed harder against hers, you felt her trembling beneath you, her inner walls clenching tightly around your member in rhythm with every thrust. Each squeeze sent shockwaves through your body, the intensity of her responses drawing you deeper into the shared ecstasy. Her whimpers were muffled by your kiss, and her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close as if afraid to let go.

The kiss deepened, slow but intense, a perfect counterpoint to the raw, primal connection of your movements. Her cries became softer, breathier, blending with your groans as the sensations built to an almost unbearable level.

The intimacy of the kiss, combined with the feeling of her pulsing around you, brought you both closer to the brink, your bodies and hearts completely in sync as you moved together toward the edge.

“Minjeong… I’m close…” you murmured, your voice strained, your body trembling as you fought to hold back for just a moment longer, wanting to bring her over the edge with you.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” she gasped, her voice breaking as her hands pressed against your chest, her body trembling beneath yours.

As you tried to hold on, your body trembling with the effort of resisting your release, your position unintentionally shifted. Your hips angled slightly as you pressed into her, and suddenly, your length grazed something deep within her that made her entire body jolt violently.

A sharp, high-pitched cry tore from her lips, her eyes flying open in shock and overwhelming pleasure as her nails dug into your arms. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and desperation, her voice trembling as she gasped, “Oh my God—right there!” Her thighs trembled against your shoulders, her whole body arching into you. “Do that again—please, keep doing that!”

Her reaction sent a rush of adrenaline through you, and despite the accidental nature of the movement, you adjusted to repeat it, angling yourself to hit that spot again. Her cries grew louder, her body tightening around you as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her, the intensity of the sensation completely melted her.

Minjeong's cries grew louder, her body arching beneath you as her legs trembled on your shoulders. The intensity of her pleasure was palpable, each thrust drawing a mix of desperate gasps and cries from her as her walls tightened around you even more, gripping you with a rhythm that was almost too much to bear.

Suddenly, with a powerful thrust, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her with a force so intense it felt as though the entire world had disappeared. The weight of your body pressing her into the mattress, the relentless rhythm of your deep thrusts, the angle perfectly abusing her most sensitive spot—all of it combined into a crescendo of pleasure that overwhelmed her completely.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Minjeong’s mind went utterly blank. The sensations overtook everything else—waves of ecstasy rippling through her as her body convulsed uncontrollably beneath you. Her walls clenched and pulsed around you, milking you desperately, her muscles tightening in a rhythm that seemed to beg for more, even as the overwhelming intensity left her trembling. The warmth of your release filling her, mixing with the previous flood, heightened everything, the feeling of fullness amplifying every pulse, every flutter of her core.

Her body shook violently, her hands clutching at you for grounding as tears welled up in her eyes. A broken sob escaped her lips, her voice trembling as she gasped for air, completely overcome. Her hair was a wild mess, clinging to her damp, flushed face, and her cheeks were streaked with tears she didn’t even realize she was shedding.

Each thrust, each contraction, sent her spiraling further into a blissful haze until her body could only quiver under you, her mind and body utterly consumed by the raw, primal connection.

Finally, her cries softened into breathless whimpers as her climax began to wane, leaving her trembling and spent. You slowed your movements, carefully easing her legs down from your shoulders, and leaned into her, wrapping your arms around her trembling body. She clung to you instinctively, her face buried against your chest as she shuddered uncontrollably, her body still quivering from the aftershocks of her release.

“It’s okay,” you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as you held her close. Your hands stroked her back in soothing motions, trying to ground her as she came down from the overwhelming high. Her breaths were uneven, and you could feel her trembling against you, her body still wracked with small, involuntary shakes.

Minjeong’s fingers gripped your shoulders tightly as if anchoring herself, her voice trembling as she whispered, “That was… that was so much… I’ve never… I didn’t know I could feel like that.”

You hugged her closer, cradling her against your chest as she melted into your embrace, her trembling gradually easing under your touch. The room was quiet except for the sound of your shared breaths, the intensity of the moment lingering between you. As you held her, her quivers became softer, her body finding solace in your warmth, the bond between you deepened by the raw, unfiltered intimacy of the moment.

For a long moment, you stayed like that, tangled in each other’s arms, your bodies still humming from the intensity of what you had just experienced. Her heart raced in time with yours, her mind spinning as she held onto you, feeling as though nothing else existed but the two of you.

As the aftershocks of their shared pleasure began to fade, Minjeong lifted her head, her eyes meeting yours. The connection between you was undeniable now—deeper and more intense than anything she had ever imagined. It wasn’t just about the physical closeness anymore; it was the way you looked at each other, the way your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, the way her heart seemed to beat in time with yours. She could feel that you were a part of her now, in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and fiercely protective.

You smiled softly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “That… was even better than the first time.”

Minjeong nodded, her body still buzzing in the blissful afterglow. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way,” she murmured, a dreamy smile playing on her lips.

“It’s like we’re rediscovering it all over again,” you replied, your voice filled with wonder. “Every time.”

Her heart swelled, a warmth blooming within her that went beyond the physical. She looked up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the sincerity of her emotions bringing a slight tremor to her voice. “I think I’m falling for you,” she whispered, her words laced with a vulnerability she hadn’t shown before.

Your gaze softened, and your hand cupped her face, pulling her closer. “I’ve been falling for you this whole time,” you whispered back, your lips brushing over hers in a tender, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down her spine.

You lay together, tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. The quiet moments that followed were thick with understanding, an unspoken connection that now simmered between you both.

Each touch, each kiss felt like a rediscovery of something sacred, something you had both been yearning for without knowing. Minjeong could feel the bond between you growing deeper, a realization that filled her with a comforting sense of security, yet also stirred something unsettling within her.

After a long silence, with her head still resting against your chest and her fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, reality began to creep back into her thoughts. She thought about the future—the knowledge you had uncovered together, and what you would do next. What you had discovered was too profound, too life-changing to keep hidden. She lifted her head, meeting your gaze with a determined look.

“We need to tell people,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of the revelation. “We can’t keep this to ourselves. Others deserve to feel what we’ve felt.”

You listened, though a shadow crossed your face, your hand stilling as you gently traced her back. “I know… but who do we tell? And how? Most people… they won’t understand. They’ll think we’re out of our minds.”

Sitting up slightly, Her mind drifted to the three other girls she held closest to her heart “Maybe… we start with people close to us. People we trust. Maybe I could tell my friends.”

Your expression remained serious as you considered the idea. “Your friends? The ones who thought the book was just some weird obsession?”

A hint of uncertainty entered her voice, but she pushed on. “Yes. I mean, they laughed it off, but they’re like family to me. They’ve been my closest friends for years. I love them… and maybe, if I explain it to them, they’ll understand. And who knows? Maybe they’ll want to experience it too.”

At first, the idea of sharing this discovery with her friends was thrilling to Minjeong. Karina, Giselle, and Ningning were her closest friends; they had been by her side through everything. If they could experience the depth of what she’d felt with you, maybe it could change their lives, too. But the more she thought about it, the more her excitement twisted into something else.

The thought of them with you—of any of them touching you, experiencing your closeness, seeing the look in your eyes that had been meant for her—left a sour, unsettled feeling in her chest. She imagined your hands on them, imagined you laughing with them, and it made her stomach clench with a sharp pang of jealousy she hadn’t anticipated.

Her heart pounded, and she felt a fierce possessiveness rising within her. This was different; what you shared was hers. The mere image of anyone else sharing in the same closeness made her skin prickle. She shifted, tightening her hold on you almost instinctively, her fingers curling against your chest as she tried to suppress the surge of emotions.

“Actually… maybe not,” she muttered, almost to herself, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she gazed up at you.

You raised an eyebrow, catching the sudden shift in her tone. “What happened to wanting to tell everyone? Didn’t you say you wanted to help people feel what we’ve felt?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I do,” she stammered, glancing away. “I just… I don’t think they’d get it—not yet. And maybe not them.”

You chuckled softly, amused by her possessiveness, your eyes glinting with teasing curiosity. “Oh, so now you don’t want to tell them?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips. “Weren’t they your ‘closest friends’ a second ago?”

Her face grew warmer, and she huffed, shifting uncomfortably as she avoided your gaze. “It’s just… they didn’t understand the book at all,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “And besides, I… I don’t want—”

You tilted your head, still smiling as your fingers traced gentle patterns along her back. “You don’t want what?” you asked, your tone soft but teasing. “You don’t want them to know about me?”

A small, frustrated sound escaped her as she buried her face against your chest, mumbling, “I don’t want them to… try anything.”

You chuckled, finding her protectiveness endearing. “So you don’t want anyone else getting too close?” you teased gently, your fingers brushing through her hair.

“It’s not funny,” she grumbled, her cheeks hot as she sulked against you. She sighed, glancing up at you, her voice laced with worry. “What if they’re curious? What if they want to know what it’s like with you?”

The laughter rumbled softly in your chest, and you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. “Minjeong, you’re overthinking this,” you murmured, stroking her hair. “They don’t need to experience it with me specifically.”

But her mind couldn’t let go. She imagined them asking you questions, seeking the same closeness that had been so deeply personal to her. Her pout deepened as she looked up, her voice quiet but insistent. “But… what if they wanted to try it? What if they wanted you?”

Seeing the worry in her eyes, your expression softened. You brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting your hand linger on her cheek as you held her gaze. “They’re not you,” you said simply, your voice steady and sincere. “What we have… it’s special. No one else can have that.”

Minjeong felt her heart flutter at your words, but a part of her still sulked, her brow furrowing as she clung to you a little tighter. “I just don’t want to share you,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not with anyone.”

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and your voice was warm as you spoke. “You don’t have to. I only want you, Minjeong. You’re the only one I want.”

She let out a soft sigh, nestling closer against you, her tension easing slightly. “But what if they do get curious?” she murmured, almost to herself, her voice filled with a hint of lingering protectiveness. “I know how they are… they always want to try things they don’t understand.”

You chuckled again, finding her jealousy both adorable and sincere. “Minjeong, I promise no one’s going to get between us. If they want to know what we’ve found, we’ll explain it together. But you’re the only one I want to share it with like this.”

She looked up at you, a pout still lingering on her lips, though her eyes softened. “You’re sure?” she asked, her tone almost childlike, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Because I don’t want you to change your mind later… I don’t think I could handle it.”

You gently cupped her face, looking at her with steady, genuine warmth. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice sincere as you met her gaze. “Minjeong, I don’t want anyone else. What we have is ours. No one else can even come close.”

A small smile began to spread across her face, and she felt her possessiveness slowly fading, replaced by a warmth that made her cheeks flush. “Okay,” she murmured, though a hint of playfulness glinted in her eyes. “But just so you know, if they do try anything, I’m not sharing.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Good to know. But trust me, they’re not going to get the chance.” You pulled her closer, your arms wrapping securely around her, reassuring her with the warmth of your touch. “Besides, I think it’s kind of cute how protective you are.”

She grumbled, rolling her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. “Well, you better get used to it,” she muttered, snuggling deeper into your embrace. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t plan on letting anyone else get anywhere near you.”

A laugh escaped you, and you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “That’s perfectly fine with me,” you murmured. “I’d be happy with just you by my side.”

Finally feeling at ease, Minjeong let herself melt against you, feeling a bit silly for her jealousy but incredibly reassured by your words. The tension and uncertainty that had simmered beneath her feelings now softened, melting away as she realized the depth of what you had both discovered. It was something so much bigger than either of you alone—something that the world had long forgotten.

The patch was supposed to protect humanity from its own vulnerabilities, to mute the wild unpredictability of desire, of connection. It had promised a life of control and purpose, of efficiency and calm. But in shutting out the power of feeling, it had left behind a vast emptiness, a numbness that had become so normalized that no one had even realized what they were missing.

But now, she understood the beauty of that vulnerability, the fire of human connection that couldn’t be controlled or contained. Every touch, every shared breath, every heartbeat reminded her that being human wasn’t something to manage or tame. It was messy and consuming, unpredictable and deeply, deeply real. It was finding peace in another’s arms, feeling the thrill of closeness, and, yes, even feeling possessive and protective of the person she wanted most.

Minjeong looked up at you, her gaze warm but serious. “I don’t think I could ever go back to the way things were. Not now that I know what it’s like… to feel everything so deeply. To be connected to you like this.” Her voice was soft but steady, filled with a quiet determination. “It’s like I’m finally… alive.”

You held her closer, your expression filled with a tenderness that needed no words. “I feel the same,” you whispered. “I don’t want to go back either. And maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we can be the ones who bring back what everyone’s lost. Show people what it really means to be human.”

In the quiet warmth of the room, as you both held each other, Minjeong felt the weight of that purpose settle into her heart. What had begun as a curiosity, a glimpse into forgotten history, had turned into something so profound, something that connected her to the core of her own humanity. It wasn’t just love she felt—it was a fierce commitment to the truth you had uncovered together.

“We’ll start slowly,” she murmured, her voice calm but filled with conviction. “One step at a time. Maybe people will be afraid, maybe they won’t understand… but we’ll show them. We’ll show them what we’ve found.”

You nodded, and your hand found hers, fingers intertwining as a silent promise. “Together,” you said, your voice steady.

As the night deepened, the two of you lay there, wrapped in the knowledge that the connection you shared was precious, rare, and undeniably real. It was the beginning of something new, something powerful. And as Minjeong drifted off in your arms, she knew that whatever lay ahead, you would face it side by side, carrying the flame of a rediscovered humanity—one that pulsed with raw, unfiltered feeling and a love that no patch could ever silence.

You had both rediscovered what it meant to be human, and together, you would awaken a world that had forgotten.

[curioussubjects]

i started my mourn watch playthrough the other day, and so far it's exactly what i wanted from the veil jumper origin. don't get me wrong, im loving the mourn watcher origin, i just wish a veil jumper rook had gotten a similar treatment. honestly, this might just be my biggest complaint about veilguard.

the special interactions when you reach the necropolis really make you feel like a part of the faction. emmrich has so much special dialogue with a mourn watch rook and he doesn't treat you like you're ignorant of knowledge you should have. instead, he takes your knowledge for granted, based on your likely rank in the watch, and talks to you like a peer. there's also a real sense of kinship between him and rook as fellow necromances dealing with a world that largely misunderstands them and finds their art off-putting.

i also liked the familiarity between rook, myrna, and vorgoth. they're not as close as rook and the crows, for instance, but that makes sense considering the dynamic of the different factions.

meanwhile, as a veil jumper it seems like strife and irelin barely know rook, and bellara talks to you as if you're completely unfamiliar with the workings of arlathan. playing as a mourn watcher now, i barely noticed a difference in dialogue/interaction between rook and the veil jumpers. or even that much difference in how a veil jumper rook behaves in arlathan forest versus a non-veil jumper rook.

it's a huge disappointment too because i can see so many ways that the veil jumpers could've been more developed, letting rook shine regardless of lineage and class, and without overshadowing bellara:

rooks who are tinkerers and can "yes, and" bellara with their knowledge and enthusiasm, historian rooks who are curious about ancient elves and are more focused on the culture than the relics, fade nerd rooks who really care about the metaphysical wonkery in arlathan forest, explorer rooks who really know their way around the forest despite all its weirdness. real missed opportunities here!

and while the veil jumpers aren't as close knit as the crows or the watchers, maybe there could've been more npcs with ambient dialogue who have worked with rook before, or more general commiserating between veil jumpers and their experiences in arlathan forest. i also think it could've been really interesting to lean into strife being strict with rook and irelin being an actual friend who goes behind his back to keep rook in the loop or something.

seriously, bioware, what the hell.

i'd be curious to hear from players who did the other origins. are they as well crafted as the crows and mourn watch origins or are they like the veil jumpers?

[historicity-was-already-taken]

hi! hope you're doing okay—I've got a holocaust-history-in-media question for you. I was talking to my brother the other day, and he mentioned how his 10-year-old son tried out "Anne Frank mode" on the meta VR headset. I was kind of horrified, because that sounds deeply exploitative and disrespectful—but he went on to say it's just a VR version of the Anne Frank house, and that it let my nephew explore history in a new way. He was able to touch things and move them around in a way he wouldn't be able to IRL, not to mention the accessibility of not having to travel.

My nephew's kind of an unusual kid, and he chose this "game" while at a friend's house. All the other kids got bored and left pretty much immediately, but he stayed to learn, and my brother says that at the end his takeaway was, "It's so sad. It's so sad and awful what human beings do to each other."

Part of me is just like "No, absolutely not, that is not for VR companies to profit off of in any way, this feels inherently exploitative." But idk. If it increases accessibility and education in a meaningful way, then perhaps that disquiet is simply reactionary.

Then I remembered I have access to an actual Holocaust historian, someone who even specializes in women's narratives and the media portrayals of same.

So, no worries if you're busy/don't have time to respond to this, but I thought it might be an interesting question for you. Do you think the VR Anne Frank house is a good thing?

Ooooooh this is an interesting one. It's also a question that I think I would have answered differently a few years ago. I mean, I've posted here about my issues with central role Anne Frank has been accorded within Holocaust memory, I've posted about the politics of people playing Pokemon Go at sites of atrocities and disasters...

But. Technology changes SO quickly. I read this fantastic article probably 10+ years ago now about how the millennial generation began to express collective nostalgia SO quickly and so young, because technology and the norms it introduces change so quickly. I'm 34 and while that's hardly ancient, the technological world inhabited by children and adolescents is effectively alien to me because of this massive, rapid, ongoing change.

Moreover, I think the pandemic gave us all an...unwanted but helpful bootcamp in what works wrt education over the phone/computer, and what doesn't. In my personal and professional life, I've met and spoken with STEM companies/individuals who specialize in working with museums, historical societies, etc. And they're not just in it to make a buck--they're there to work with museums etc in increasing access and keeping up with educational trends because they know it's important and smart people value STEAM education.

So, despite my acknowledged concerns issued in the first paragraph, and the kneejerk negative reaction I think you and I share, I think my conclusion is that this is a good thing. Like, as a Holocaust historian, pubic historian, educator, and now a Hebrew School teacher of 7-11 year olds, I think whatever gets kids interested and engaged is Good; whatever draws them and gets them thinking about it is Good; even if the tech and infrastructure involved is something that I previously took (philosophical) issue with.

This doesn't mean I don't still have concerns about the centrality of Anne Frank, but let's be real: I lost that battle a long time ago. I've said my piece, and if Anne Frank is going to be kids' gateway into learning about the Holocaust, I'm glad to see that it's being done responsibly, well, and in keeping with how kids engage with education and tech in 2024.

There are, obviously, many theoretical conversations to be had about the implications of this kind of thing, and I hope a grad student applies like, Walter Benjamin to it for a first year paper, but this is my answer purely in terms of access and education.

[gatorbites-imagines]

The small amount of Conner/ Kon-el x male reader fics is sadden.

You know how Conner is half kryptoniton? Seeing your headcanons for Kryptonition's, what if Conner figures out that he loves the reader's scent and not really knowing why, so timidly starts stealing like a hoodie or two from the reader.

Bonus points: the reader already knows why, because he is responsible for being the historian for the alien cultures on earth.

Conner Kent/Kon-El x male reader

Headcanons

This is my fav Conner gif btw

You are so right about the lack of Kon x male reader content, it saddens me sometimes.

-          I have always had the headcanon that scents and alike are important in kryptonian society, that in ancient times it was used more than speech at times. Like communicating intention, feeling or the likes.

-          Its not used as much in modern time, though scents still play a pretty important part when it comes to finding a likely partner, or just scenting stuff that you own or good friends.

-          Conner isn’t as extremely affected by the likes of scents and wants that a full blooded kryptonian might, but he still is effected by it to some extent, so when he notices your scent makes his chest rumble and makes him feel jittery all over he’s confused at first.

-          He has very little knowledge about kryptonian biology at the time, and it also took him a while to realize no one could actually hear his purring. He later learns its because kryptonians purr as a frequency very few can hear, so he doesn’t have to worry about embarrassing himself.

-          The pull in his chest isn’t as powerful as a full blooded kryptonian, but he is still extremely drawn to you and wants to be around you at all times if he can get away with it.

 -          The first hoodie he steals is an accident, some laundry had been mixed up and your hoodie ended up in his things on accident. Now, he was gonna give it back, but that pull in his chest wanted to keep it.

-          He thought you might not notice a missing hoodie, so he kept it. Kon would go around wearing it in his room or when he was alone, even as your scent faded from the fabric over time, just knowing it was yours made him purr.

-          As time went on, he got a little more bold, stealing more of your laundry or even stealing one of the blankets. He had gotten his hands on the blanket during a sleepover where a lot of your mutual friends, titans and alike had holed up in the living room to watch movies all night.

-          He took your blanket “on accident” and brought it back to his room where he spread it on his bed and rubbed against it like an over excited puppy.

-          Kon might even have started to scent you without noticing, rubbing up against you or hugging you for longer periods of time.

 -          It was when Kon started truly scenting you that you realized what was happening. Clark had allowed you to the fortress of solitude where you learned a lot about kryptonian history and biology.

-          The information had of course been passed on to Kon as well so he could learn about it, but he didn’t seem to notice anything he was doing. Even after you two became official he didn’t notice how he was hoarding all your clothes and blankets.

-          At some point you end up semi moved into Conners room because he already has all your stuff in there. He also uses you two dating as an excuse to be close to you all the time. Expect many cuddle piles and many kisses.

-          Based on his kryptonian urges he will also be bringing you food or other offerings and gifts. You have a shelf for all the trinkets he brings you, there’s a lot of cool rocks on that shelf.

-          Conner would want you to wear his leather jacket, because it looks cute on you but also because he wants you to wear it as a claim or to show you are taken.

-          All in all he’s a sweetie who tries his best, so kudos to you for bagging him as a boyfriend, even though he steals your favorite clothes and hides them under his bed.

[goldrushenthusiast]

The Hunger Games characters have some unique names based on many cultures we've lived in today.

What's your favourite character names from THG world? What's their names meaning?

Bonus questions :

If you're a fanfic writer writing about characters who lives in Panem, what's their name gonna be?

If you're a reader, what's a name you read in a THG fanfic that stuck with you?

Thank you, @curiousnonny

Got to be Sejanus. By far who his name is based off of and who is is just…perfect.

Copied straight from the Wikipedia page, the very first paragraph;

“Lucius Aelius Sejanus (c. 20 BC – 18 October AD 31), commonly known as Sejanus (/sɪˈdʒeɪnəs/),[1] was a Roman soldier, friend, and confidant of the Roman Emperor Tiberius. Of the Equites class by birth, Sejanus rose to power as prefect of the Praetorian Guard (the Roman imperial bodyguard), of which he was commander from AD 14 until his execution for treason in AD 31.”

Like ok come on now Suzanne at least make me have something more to interpret!!

What’s interesting about him though is the fact that he is district born, and as we see in Katniss, Gale, Primrose, Madge, Mayfair, Carine (Katniss’ mom), Rue, Delly, and any non career district, district kids typically have fairly normal names or names related to their districts (Reaper the farming name from D11, Coral & Mizzen, sea & ship names from d4). While their names still have something to do with their character, they make more sense with district kids and are less obvious (will explain later).

However, with Sejanus, he was born in district two. His parents were from district two. Strabo even can be related to Strabo’s character but that’s for later.

Sure, it can be argued that district two is a career district, but Katniss & Coriolanus’ accounts together hint that this process took decades to be sure of and to really benefit from. District two would be a bit better off after the first revolution, but not much.

I just find it funny it’s so clear with Sejanus what he was always meant to be.

Strabo’s name is a bit more a stretch, but Strabo was an Ancient Greek geographer. He was mostly known for being, and I quote;

“historian whose Geography is the only extant work covering the whole range of peoples and countries known to both Greeks and Romans during the reign of Augustus (27 BCE–14 CE)”

He specialized in geography. District two is full of mountains (that Ma loves), and he literally moved his whole family. As I said, a bit of a stretch, but still there’s SOMETHING there.

Even the family’s last name, Plinth, means a heavy base supporting a statue or vase. Every part of Sejanus’ name includes some type of support, and it’s so apparent with just one google search. I love it, and we know so much about his character so it’s easier to make these inferences than it will be with the Ring Twins or Remus Dolittle, yet I will. This answer might have to be two parts lol.

Now onto other characters that we know just a bit better: Tigris, Persephone, Iphigenia, Vipsania, Arachne, and saving last for last, Coriolanus.

Firstly; Tigris! Tigris was the easternmost river out of two that defined Mesopotamia, one of (or maybe the) the earliest civilizations/cultures, dating back to 14,000 BC as the time period when people originally started settling. Because I’m not here to give a history lesson I’m not gonna explain the importance of a river to a civilization, but I went through 6th grade geography and suffice to say she was important as hell.

Tigris was believed to have been created by the God Enki, the Sumerian god of knowledge, crafts, and creation among other things. Tigris is continually proven to be resourceful, creative, and gives very much DIY girlie vibes, which sound a lot like Enki.

As I said before, the Mesopotamian region was one of the first civilizations. Many have theorized that mankind as we know it wouldn’t exist without Mesopotamia, and what would Mesopotamia not exist without? Tigris.

Tigris provided opportunities for the Mesopotamian region (Coriolanus) to grow, get stronger, become innovative, and provided for them. If that doesn’t scream Tigris I don’t know what does.

Now, Persephone! My favorite capital names are the ones from Greek mythology (I am a Percy Jackson fan page) or ancient mythology, because it’s less work to find connecting factors. Honestly I had no clue who Sejanus was, I just googled his name, and my mom is a Shakespeare fan which is how I know Coriolanus.

Anywho, for y’all who are normal, Persephone was the daughter of the farming/harvest goddess who was kidnapped by the death god. All versions of this myth agree on that. Some say that it was part of a deal with Zeus that Hades (the death god) knew about, but Demeter (farming/harvest goddess) didn’t. Of course these are definitely a very simple and quick way to describe Hades & Demeter, but it gets my point across.

The funny thing is, we don’t know much about Persephone in canon. I don’t know if Suzanne did this on purpose like she clearly did with Sejanus, but I find it interesting that whenever Persephone Price is brought up, so is cannibalism.

See, Nero Price, Persephone dad and Coriolanus was the main example that Coriolanus used to show how bad things were during the war. Coriolanus and Tigris saw him one snowy evening sawing off the leg of a maid with a large knife, wrapping it in the skirt from her waist, and going on his way. It makes Coriolanus question if he could ever be seen as edible, which is kinda funny to me lowkey, but the whole scene is on page 31-32.

Persephone. She is literally torn between the harvest (farmers food & stuff) and the underworld, the realm of the dead. Part of her myth is she stays there for 3 months and in the realm of the living for the other 9 because she ATE 3,pomegranate seeds. She ate something she wasn’t supposed to. Let me also mention, in different versions of the myth she wanted to leave or didn’t. When Festus and Persephone are getting close, Coriolanus questions if Persephone ever knew what was on her plate.

Now Iphigenia!! If y’all didn’t remember Persephone, I doubt yall will remember Iphigenia, as I only did combing the list of names Coriolanus had for interesting ones and finding her. She’s a very minor character- we don’t know much about her hobbies or likes and dislikes or her personality. But I’ll get to TBOSAS Iphigenia in a second.

I’m sure of y’all at least know the Trojan war. If anyone studied it specifically, you probably know Agamemnon. Here’s the paragraph explaining the story from Wikipedia;

“In the story, Agamemnon offends the goddess Artemis on his way to the Trojan War by hunting and killing one of Artemis' sacred stags. She retaliates by preventing the Greek troops from reaching Troy unless Agamemnon kills his eldest daughter, Iphigenia, at Aulis as a human sacrifice. In some versions, Iphigenia dies at Aulis, and in others, Artemis rescues her.”

You’re probably wondering, “wow, what could such a minor character have to do with that tale?”

When I say we get very little from her, I mean it. I don’t mean we get very little from her in the same way as I do when talking about Festus, or any other classmates. We know she doesn’t know if district 5 girl’s (her tribute’s) name is Sol or Sal (it’s Sol).

There’s one piece of information on her that stands out though. I’m going to paraphrase Coriolanus on page 252 when I say this- “her father oversaw food stuff in Panem, but she always looked almost malnourished. Clemensia had once said it was the only revenge she could take on her father but didn’t give any other details,”

boy oh boy. Because of this one, small little paragraph, Iphigenia has always interested me. When Clemensia doesn’t give any other details, she means it. NO details appear afterwards and Iphigenia is maybe mentioned once ever again. Trust me, I know. Every time I reread TBOSAS I look for different things, which is part of the reason I reread it sm.

We never know why Iphigenia takes revenge. We never know anything about her relationship with her father. There are so many possibilities (abuse, Iphigenia the rebel, etc), and considering her namesake’s issues with her father it’s just crazy the amount of detail Suzanne put into such a minor character.

Next, Vipsania- there’s actually not much I can say about her, I just thought it was a funny coincidence this is what came up when I googled her;

“Vipsania Agrippina (/ˌæɡrəˈpaɪnə, -ˈpiː-/; 36 BC – 20 AD) was the first wife of the Emperor Tiberius.”

Two things- first, recognize what emperor she married? Yep! Tiberius- aka the emperor Sejanus was a friend and confident of. I think Suzanne might’ve gone down a Tiberius rabbit hole, because her last is familiar as well- Professor Agrippina. She was the gym teacher, and Sejanus’ mentor. This little circle of names and relations is just funny to me is all, although there’s not much on VA in history or much to say about Vipsania.

Arachne!!! Gosh I love her. Well, I love how plain the connection is between her character in TBOSAS and her character in mythology. Really she’s pretty disrespectful and a jerk in both lol.

In Greek mythology, Arachne is a woman-turned spider, the first spider. Arachne believed she could win a weaving competition against Athena, goddess of crafts, because of how beautiful her work was and how much everyone complimented her.

Athena, hearing this hubris, disguised herself as an old woman and told Arachne not to boast like that. Arachne then challenged Athena, and told the old woman the only reason Athena hadn’t gone against her herself was she was too scared.

Of course Athena then revealed herself, and they battled. Athena’s weaver thing showed the Greek gods doing good stuff, Arachne’s showed the gods in their most unfavorable aspects. Due to this disrespect, and in some versions because it was better (tho I personally don’t believe that), Athena turned Arachne into a spider so she could weave forever.

The pride?? The taunting until it becomes serious?? The permanent change?? The rage that prompted the act?? Arachne as Arachne is the most perfect name on here, because who else would she be?? Another great one of Suzanne’s names. Genius.

Before we get to the last name, Coriolanus himself, let me point out I have no district people on here. Let this show just how interesting Strabo & Sejanus’ names are.

Finally!! The last one!! Coriolanus.

Coriolanus is actually quite disappointing compared to Sejanus or Arachne, but there’s still something here so I’m going to paste the Wikipedia on Coriolanus, the man Shakespeare based his play after & what happened in the play.

“Coriolanus is the name given to a Roman general after his military feats against the Volscians at Corioli. Following his success he seeks to be consul, but his disdain for the plebeians and the mutual hostility of the tribunes lead to his banishment from Rome. In exile, he presents himself to the Volscians, then leads them against Rome. After he relents and agrees to a peace with Rome, he is killed by his previous Volscian allies”

Now, unlike many of these other characters, Coriolanus’ relationship to his namesake mirrors his relationship to another character (Lucy Gray) more than his personality.

Coriolanus wants to be with Lucy Gray, but eventually due to his hatred of the districts and love of the capital, he ends up turning against her. He starts out wanting to help her, yet his own disgust only ends up hurting him.

Coriolanus is eventually killed by his former allies, what he’s created. That’s what happens in the original hunger games series. When Coin does the faked bomb drop, everyone he worked so hard to make love him turn against him quickly. He revolutionized the capital and they turned against him.

He almost changed his own feelings about district people and it ended up almost taking his life and career.

Help I forgot there was another part to the question 😭. Anywho if I was gonna write some, I’d probably just use random names or if I had a really good and accurate name (or totally opposite name) from mythology or a poem or something I’d use that and make it correspond to the character.

This is embarrassing, but a lot of the names from crimson rivers, a hunger games/marauders au stuck with me! Nothing specific, but anything that wasn’t a marauders character always made me go “huh! I like that!”

In conclusion though, Suzanne is a genius. As I said, I might have to reblog this later with more names if I ever think of any. This is probably my most researched answer, due to all the mythology and Wikipedia searches I had to do, so sorry that it took longer! Usually I just remember things and explain them lol.

Thank you for the question @curiousnonny, and as always, feel free to debate in the comments/reblogs but please don’t argue. I always enjoy answering and dissecting questions, so anyone feel free to ask!

[bots-and-cons]

Can I request some hc's about bot!reader who's friends with the predacon trio (predaking, skylynx, darksteel) platonic or romantic is up to you

I honestly don't have a good grasp on the personalities of Skylynx and Darksteel, so these are mostly focused on Predaking. I watched the movie in like 2019 and have not watched it since. Honestly I considered making this like a romantic polycule thing, but I felt like it was a bit too much for me, so I just went with platonic, and this is like the very start of the friendship

•You met Predaking, Darksteel and Skylynx when you returned to Cybertron after the war

•They were really isolated from everyone else, but Predaking especially preferred it that way

•Darksteel and Skylynx were much more interested in the other cybertronians, because they had never really met anyone they didn’t have to fight or didn’t actively dislike

•You’re a historian, so your familiar with the predacons that way, but not with any of the new generation personally

•You went to look for them for research purposes, and ended up making friends with the trio

•Predaking is not very enthusiastic about your questions when you appear, and his answers are very limited

•Darksteel and Skylynx on the other hand, will tell you what they know, which isn’t very much, but they ask just as many questions in return

•The questions are pretty different from yours in theme, but you answer happily

•Predaking isn’t particularly happy when you visit them the first couple of times, but you start growing on him

•While you’re taking an interest in what he is, you’re also interested in who he is, and he appreciates that

•Sure, maybe you ask wayyyy to many questions, but it’s nothing weird or inappropriate

•They’re all much bigger than you, which was pretty intimidating at first, since all of them were also pretty aggressive or at least irritated

•You were scared for a while, sure, but you never let it show, and they grew to respect you more quickly because of that

•If you had been running and screaming in fear, it would not have led to friendship and mutual respect

•You’re of course older than all of them since they’re all very newly made, but that doesn’t really earn you any points or admiration or anything

•Predaking acts like an ancient relic already, and Skylynx and Darksteel can be like bickering younglings sometimes

•They can be a bit of a headache sometimes, but they became good friends to you, which also includes them being protective of you

•They don’t exactly consider you weak, but you are small compared to them, so they think you need protecting sometimes

•It’s very rare for others to mess with you or pick a fight with you, especially when any of the trio are around

[katerinaaqu]

Soo is Orestes and Pylades like..another patrochilles? Like are they just really good friends but many people ship them anyways?

My dear Anon at this point people ship characters that are barely in the same frame yet alone those who show tender feelings for each other! It seems like nowadays it is impossible for people to see two characters (particularly male or female ones) being tender with each other without shipping them!

But anyways many researchers also tend to generalize that and always use the filter of homoerotic material to their interpretations even if there isn't much to indicate that because people immediately assume that characters of Greek mythology must have been a couple for some reason. It also doesn't help that many ancient or medieval scholia also said similar things for several mythological figures.

Orestes and Pylades share a very strong and tender friendship and they also share family bonds. An affair between them is not indicated by the text itself so again I mostly see it as people interpreting way too much the naturally tender speech of characters on greek texts as them being somehow couples (and is not just modern retellings but also official papers that seem to blast this out of proportion) in combination to the generally overblown idea of homosexuality in ancient Greece as if it was the absolute norm. It was not at least not the way many people interpret it. It certainly did happen and it was much more acceptable than for the upcoming Christian times but yeah it was not like people were...waving their pride flags around or anything hahaha I mean open scenes of tenderness of SUCH intimacy were generally discouraged anyways to be shown in public (the famous Greek phrase that translates as "the things you do or say at home are not for the world")

I do not see any reason to see them as couple in the text. Their relationship seems to be a tender and strong friendship. Orestes even is betrothed or married to Hermione. Pylades as well seems to support him in every step which is probably why I think of them as friends. Their tender relationship is not overly expressive or passionate. They seem to cooperate and deeply care for one another and I find no reason to assume they are lovers or rather I think it is important to project the platonic relationships such as friendship or companionship without associating them necessarily with romance or sexuality but at the same time yes I do see people interpret them as such for a combination of the reasons I mentioned above. I am not saying that the hypothesis that they are lovers as people interpret the sources or even like I said ancient scholia which also were inspired by the ideals of their time, is wrong. It is just I personally wouldn't interpret them as such because I really want to project their friendship

But yeah I guess one can say the same for any character that is tender with another or have good collaboration or anything. If one wants to filter it through the lenses of romance then nothing one other say will change that idea. The relationship between Orestes and Pylades is not as blasted out of proportion like Achilles and Patroclus but yeah I guess every time we do discover the word "friendship" in ancient texts there is always a dude in the background (ancient or modern) that would yell the overused joke "historians say"

[zerogate]

Today, people tend chiefly to remember the healings of Jesus – and not without reason. These miracles played so prominent a part in the early Christian message that one historian of early Christianity, Adolf von Harnack, bluntly wrote that ‘Christianity is a medical religion.’

But Christianity wasn’t the only medical religion. This was a world that could glitter with miracles and be moved by the hand of heaven. One Greek text – from the third century BC – praises a divine ‘gentle healer’ for the ‘diseases that thou didst wipe away, Lord, by laying on us thy gentle hands.’ One single ancient stone – inscribed in the fourth century BC – gives grateful thanks to a god from a group of supplicants who have variously had ‘the sight of both eyes restored’, had their lameness healed and been cured of paralysis. Long before Jesus arrived on earth, there were many who took up their beds, and walked.

Accounts in which the blind were healed and the lame walked were perennially popular – perhaps, a cynic might say, because they were easiest to fake. (Accounts in which amputated limbs regrew are rather harder to find in the historical record.) Some of these stories became particularly celebrated. In the first century AD, in the East, a prophecy started to circulate that said men would come from Judaea who would rule over the entire world.

Many came to believe that the prophecy had referred to the emperor Vespasian – not, it must be said, without reason, since he did. Certainly he seems to have been touched by heavenly powers. One day, after he had visited a temple, two sick men approached him. One of the men was blind, the other lame, and they implored him to heal them.

Vespasian was reluctant; he was both sceptical that such a stunt would work and had a lot to lose and little to gain from attempting it. As the historian Suetonius records, ‘he could scarcely believe that the thing would any how succeed, and therefore hesitated to venture on making the experiment.’ Vespasian was eventually jollied, or perhaps bullied, into it by the encouragement of his friends and, in public and before a large crowd, did as the men asked, touching the eyes of the blind man with his spittle, and touching the lame man’s heel. His attempt ‘was crowned with success in both cases’. The blind man saw and the lame man walked. For an ancient event, this story is exceptionally well attested. It appears in Tacitus, Suetonius and Dio Cassius – and was clearly widespread in late AD 69 or early AD 70, when it (allegedly) happened.

It is notably similar to other stories told at the time – perhaps most famously in the story that Christians told of Jesus, which was probably written down at about the same time. In this, Jesus is approached by ‘some people [who] brought to him a blind man and begged him to touch him.’ Jesus, more willing than Vespasian to attempt such a thing, immediately helped: he took the blind man and ‘spit on his eyes and laid his hands on him’. Initially, the blind man saw nothing, then ‘he looked up and said, “I see people, but they look like trees, walking.” ’ Then Jesus ‘laid his hands on his eyes again; and he opened his eyes, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.’ It has been suggested that the story of Jesus was tweaked to compete with that of Vespasian.

Christians were initially happy to admit similarities between their own healer and the healers of other religions. ‘When we say that He made well the lame and the paralytic,’ Justin Martyr wrote, ‘and that he resurrected the dead, we seem to be mentioning deeds similar to and even identical with those which were said to have been performed by [the Greek god] Asclepius.’ Asclepius wasn’t the only wonder-worker with whom Christian healers were compared – or perhaps confused. When St Paul and a companion arrived in a town and healed a lame man there, the crowd knew precisely what had happened. ‘The gods have come down to us in the likeness of men!’ they cried. St Paul and his companion were assumed to be, respectively, Hermes and Zeus in human form; so much so that the local priest of Zeus promptly brought wreaths to the city gates ‘to offer sacrifice with the crowds.’

It is Jesus’ healing miracles that are remembered today; but in the ancient world his fame was far eclipsed by that of Asclepius. And, as ancient critics of Christianity didn’t hesitate to point out, the similarities between the two men didn’t stop merely at their miracles. Asclepius was also not merely a son of a god, but was said to be a god on earth: some believed he was none other than Apollo, made flesh in human form.

The similarities went on: Asclepius, like Jesus, suffered a violent death, and was also deified and ascended into heaven. Devoted followers of Asclepius would describe him as being dressed in ‘white raiment and with flowing hair’ and as sitting, as one second-century-AD follower put it, ‘enthroned in the sky’. He too was able to perform all the usual miracles: to make the mute speak and the blind see; to make withered hands work again; to smooth the skin of the leprous, raise the dead and heal the lame. Indeed, in one account, Asclepius, with Apollo’s help, healed a lame man so successfully that, when a small boy stole his crutch, the man instantly got up and ‘pursued him’. He was so loved for his healings that his followers took to calling him ‘Lord’ and ‘Saviour’ and even ‘Saviour of the human race’.

-- Catherine Nixey, Heresy

[myeagleexpert]

The Silence of the Seven

Synopsis:

The peaceful atmosphere is shattered when Yuu finds one of her friends in a coma of unknown causes. Determined to uncover the truth, Yuu and her friends begin investigating the case and discover a curious pattern that links the victims. But as the investigation progresses, they find themselves in a tangle with powerful enemies, and this time the danger is out of Twisted Wonderland. Yuu and her friends will have to fight against unknown forces to find answers and unravel the mystery before it's too late.

Notes: I won't give many warnings before each chapter, because, you know, the suspense. Yuu is a girl and is around 18 years old. I'm just saying that we will have many platonic and romantic moments in the series, and that you always read until the end of the chapter <3

Chapter I: I'll Get You

Yuu walked through the long corridors of the ancient library, passing them as if he knew every old corner and every forgotten book. Because actually, she does. As soon as she arrived in this strange world, she tried in every way to return to her original dimension, digging through all the books on multi-dimensional travel, mining any and all information about how to return home. But that's not why she's here today and with Riddle much less.

“If you want to survive in this world, you have to learn about it”

It was the purpose Riddle insisted on taking some classes with the foreign student. The leader of Heartslabyul had crimson red hair and the temper of a kindergarten principal, his nostrils always smoked and his mouth recited the 810 questionable laws of the Queen of Hearts. If not for the beautiful blue-gray eyes, Yuu would have joined the chaos of anarchy, but being peaceful she opted for one provocation or another.

"Riddle, I've been wondering, are these laws really necessary?" usually this led to some fun discussions with the grinning Cheshire cat

Today they were at a secluded table in the ancient library, discussing the origin of some figures and mythology.

“According to historians, the Queen of Hearts had a proportionate head, but due to an accident just before the coronation, she suffered an injury that led to swelling of her head.”

“And your ego…” Yuu muttered, he had several things to say about the tyrannical majesty but bit his tongue… today at least

"What did you say?"

“What about the creatures from the Kingdom of Roses?”

“It is said that the creatures are extinct species from the kingdom during the colonization…- he stopped and looked for the page in the book with illustrations- When the settlers tried to explore some unknown lands it was reported that they found flowers so tall that they stopped them from going on, so they decided to cut them down and heard voices from the forest expelling them.” Was that supposed to be scary? An idea flashed through the mind of the magicless student, her eyes glistening with memories and she did the best horror storytelling voice she could muster.

“The legends here are very interesting, but in my world we have a different view of nature”

“Ah, please tell me Yuu.” Riddle leaned forward as Yuu approached, naturally curious and thirsty for knowledge.

“In the era of exploration, a rich farmer wanted to increase his lands and for that, he destroyed the protected lands of the indigenous people. Once he took his foreman to open the forest in a sacred land and on this day, the furious nature sent a creature with a head of fire and feet turned backwards to end man's miserable life.”

Widening his eyes and holding his breath, Riddle silently nodded his head for Yuu to continue "With an animalistic scream the creature drove a fiery stake through the heart of the man who fell 'dead' to the ground-

“Why the quotes? Is he not dead?” Rido questioned the physical quotation marks his friend made, but felt an immediate chill when he saw how much his face darkened.

“However… he was so hideously terrible that both heaven and hell rejected him and earth refused to bury such a devilish soul. The now Dry Corps was cursed eternally into a condition of filthy spirit doomed to roam the cities until the end of time but… it is said that if the Dry Corps finds a host as bad as it is, it will possess it and use the living body to do even worse evils until a stronger entity of nature appears.”

The so stern leader of Heartabull kept his eyes fixed on a specific corner, he felt anesthetized with so much information that he had just heard so much that he didn't even notice that Yuu had gotten up from his chair with the mischievous intentions of scaring him from behind.

“Riddlee~” with a light pat, the red-haired one let out a high-pitched squeal that, yes, the entire library heard.

“Oh by the Seven! Yuu!”

"Riddle-chan, you shouldn't make noise in the library, you know?" teased him

“I wouldn't have yelled if you hadn't—

“Yanoo….cans of tuna…” a darling feline, Grim, was sleeping peacefully with no problems on top of the books when he escaped words in his sleep Such an action, brought to the two leaders childish and innocent giggles, which were muffled by the soft fur of Grimm. A sweet moment few would ever see…

And like all good things come to an end….

"Aaaah Kingyo-chann I know you're there" a very familiar voice of the two echoed through the halls

“Aa-ah Floyd! He can't see me, otherwise I'll be late for the Riding Club" his little antennae flick up in warning and in agitated whispers he turns to Yuu

"I distract him, Grim takes him to the corridor 03 passage" whispered back Yuu and traded a can of tuna for his companion

The girl knew the secret passages of the NRC like the back of her hands, and Riddle trusted them so because Ramshackle's memorable duo were like brothers to him, which was very difficult considering the walls and barriers that had been built since his overblot .

“See you later, thank you.” "Thank you"

A code of signs was exchanged between the two before Riddle entered the dark secret passage on the other side of the library, the language was created little by little, a mix of the sign language of his dear world and Twisted Wonderland that deepened as he went. that the bonds with the other person were deepening.

“Who was Koebi-chann talking to?” The twin's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, he was at the table they'd been studying at just now, his posture relaxed with the familiar wide, sharp-toothed smile.

"Floyd, let's play."- determined she started her plan in mind.

“Aaah, I'm not in the mood to play tag with Koebi-chan, I want to play with Kingyo-chan"- Already uninterested Floyd got up with a serious expression

“What if we make a deal?” When Yuu stepped in front of the tallest one, he didn't expect those words from her "If you catch me in 3 minutes, I'll tell you where Riddle is, but if not, I won't tell you anything." Oh that got his attention, already setting the timer on her watch

“Koebi-chan is so creative! Let's play! I count ok: 1…2…3 and that's it! Run fast or I'll catch you~” the twin hummed, lazy voice but a predator's gaze

The two ran wild leaving the library, Yuu was dodging the tables while Floyd, the mermaid, preferred to jump on top of them to annoy the students. Outside, the girl got a good boost down the hall, taking advantage of Floyd trying to get through the door.

2 minutes…

Each on the opposite side of the hall, Floyd showing his sharp teeth and Yuu a playful smile, the laughter of both spread in the hall: loud, uncoordinated and without any concern. As she turned a corner that led to the patio, she lost Floyd and only then did the adrenaline let her remember a little thing: Where there's fire, there's smoke. And the horror twins, as Grim calls them, are a real fire. Floyd is here…where is Jade?

1 minute-she checked her watch

"Ahh I'm so close to getting rid of this crazy guy!"-She thought with her chest rising and falling and breathing heavily. Her eyes searched every possible place to climb or hide, Floyd is faster but if she can stay away from him until time stands still…

"The tree!"

30 seconds

The girl ran with all her might towards the patio tree, her loud footsteps alerted Floyd who was trying to see where she was. The little bug was out of breath and was trying to circle the patio trying to kill time to get to the damn tree just didn't count that—

“Oya oya, what do we have here?”- She didn't see where the voice was coming from, she just felt someone put her foot on her for her to fall, Floyd who is not silly at all, took the opportunity and grabbed the student rolling them both on the floor.

“I got you Koebi-chan!~~~” for a moment they forgot why they were running, laughing until their stomachs hurt, biting each other- hey, that's a sign of trust, right?- “Come on little shrimp…I got you ahead of time. You have to do your part of the bargain!”

“You cheated Floyd! I made the deal with you and not Jade-

“I was just passing by and coincidentally tripped over it just as our dear Yuu was running. Oh, I'm so sorry. What a tragedy.” With her hand on her chest, Jade helped her to get up from the ground, but her smile had nothing innocent about it.

“Don't even come with that Jade-” not here you felaa-” Floyd, it was supposed to be you alone but since I'm in a good mood today let's do this: I'll tell you where Riddle is NOT and you can hug me more…”

“What a good treat Koebii~” Floyd didn't need any more words to convince him, throwing his tall frame on top of Yuu and her brother, taking them to the ground.

But she was used to the twins' unpredictable tendencies. After all, 1 year had passed since his arrival. When she arrived in this strange world, everything was very “strange” for her, so much so that reality only dropped three days later, and when it did, all she could think about was hiding in a dark corner of the abandoned house.

The sun was setting when they got up, after laughing and talking about various topics Yuu would probably regret someday. After so much brutality, Floyd extended a gentle hand for his friend to stand up, his eyes widening as he realized—

“Neee~Koebi-chan, you're getting heavy and meaty too!” happily he comments

“Hunhun, and it looks stronger fufu. It ran a lot further this time and endured my brother's hugs longer” Jade congratulates her, looking at her legs and biceps that were no longer fragile matchsticks

“But if you grow too big, I won't be able to call you little shrimp anymore…ah! Ah! I know! If you grow any bigger I’ll call you the little lobster, okay?”

“Well, get ready, honey, I’m going to be a lobster!” determined Yuu hugs her friends and then says goodbye. She didn't know it, but there were eyes watching her...

A year later adaptation arrived, his body that had lost a lot of weight due to the excessive work of a certain crow and the constant stress that brought it, was weak and thin, but now with the balanced diet that Vil himself had prepared and physical exercises with Vargas she was able to get back to the body she was: strong, toned and curvy, she could keep up with the athletics group with Deuce and go for morning jogs with Jack - when Grim pushed her out of bed she inevitably woke up and by coincidence Jack was passing by Ramcharchle. Killing two with one stone.-

It was at the start of quiet sophomore year that her hair, once a shade of brown with golden, curly strands, was dyed night-black. Her hair was opaque before and didn't reach her chin, as the foreigner used her impulsive cuts as a defense mechanism, saying it was "not to draw attention". A year later, her hair was bust-length, shiny and perfectly brushed and styled.

At first glance, her ties were deepened here, but there was a symbolism behind it that left your mouth bitter. Her natural hair was her memory of home, something that says "I'm not from here, I have a place to go back". Crowley was the one who came up with the idea "Well, if you're going to stay longer, why don't you look like your beloved director who welcomed you as a father figure, my little bird?" Crowley and Crewel became very attached to the girl, always taking care of the puppy with affection but with hugs that didn't allow her to go very far. .

In her second year, she improved her beast taming capabilities. Occasionally, she is seen piloting a great blue dragon through the skies, or combing the fur of a dangerous chimera, or stopping Grim from stuffing his mouth with fish at Scarabia's dinner. The latter, he finds to be the most useful skill.

Not far from there, Riddle had finished his Riding training, saying goodbye elegantly to his colleagues and walking to the Heartstabull...unfortunately he didn't get there.

Trim..trim…

'Huh? Call from Carter?' - In the middle of her sacred coffee with Grim, Yuu receives a call from her senior, Carter Diamond. What would the magicam star want at a time like this?

-Hello? It's Yuu, all right senpai? -A-ahh Yuu, I need you to come to the dorm now! -Is it really necessary? I put my coffee on now… -What Yuu?? I'm not l-l- istening! Something… interfering… -The toast is warm too…want to have a coffee with me? -I'm serious Yuu! It's- an emergency! Come quickly!

And hung up…

Her precious coffee was already in the cup filled to the top, waiting to be taken and enjoyed by the tired student, but the agitated and trembling voice of the so cheerful Carter made her take only three sips worriedly, leaving quickly with Grim meowing that the toast would get cold. Until a hoarse, frightening scream interrupted her mind and the thousand scenarios of what could be happening.

“How strang-!!!”- Yuu gasps, clutching Grim protectively in her arms, despite being flustered the girl takes a moment to record the image of the sound maker, who was on an old pole near the house.

It was a white bird, a type of owl with a heart-shaped face and eyes like completely black spheres, then a hook-shaped beak. The creature turns 160 degrees and stares at Yuu and Grim, the girl feels a shiver run down her spine and a bad feeling settles in her stomach but….

Yuu decides that with so many fantastical creatures and so many overblots, a white owl is the least of her problems right now and continuing on her way more quickly she thinks back to what could have happened in the dorm, which she considered her second home.

Of all her imagined scenarios none came close to the vision in front of her.

Riddle was lying on the floor. His body pale and icy. His eyes were completely white, without corneas, without irises and without pupils. His red hair was an aged shade of red, as if all of his life had been sucked out of him. Veins, now transparent, pulsing reluctantly to life and bringing a barely existent low breath, no signs of waking up.

“Carter! What's going on? What happened to Riddle?”- one of the clones of the red haired one grabbed Yuu who ran when he saw the scene and tried to calm her down, while Trey covered his fallen friend's body with a jacket.

“Riddle took a long time to come back, 15min late. This has never happened before.”- Trey replied from afar.

“We arrived here and when we saw his state, we called you and the Director”- completed Carter, who was trying to take Yuu to check the body, he himself didn't have the courage- “We cast an invisible barrier spell, and we waited for the director to arrive to take him quickly to the infirmary.” he concluded.

“What do you think it could be?”

“I don't know, I've never seen anything like it. It must have been something really strong to catch him off guard and leave him with…”- swallowing the fear and sadness trapped in his throat, the green-haired one tries to continue, being the responsible senpai ever-”… with that expression. terrified in the face.”

There were no signs of violence on the body, no spell fighting, no signs of poisoning. Grim didn't smell any different, saying it was the same as the one in the library.

“Let's sort this out, guys.”- giving one last look at his friend, Yuu puts his jacket over him again and stands up to look and investigate.

They checked every inch of that area, but the wind blew a small white feather from the enclosure.

You are here Next>>

[specialagentartemis]

#wait is there something wrong with the history hates lovers song? I read the linked post and now I'm worried D: (via @gardenofarson)

I thought I explained pretty straightforwardly in the linked post why I hate the "History Hates Lovers" song: It takes the explicit stance that you, ordinary citizen of the world with no special training, are actually smarter than the experts by virtue of being gay.  It assumes that historians are all old ivory-tower eggheads and homophobic clueless idiots and only they, youtube user Oublaire, know the REAL truth. It's smugly anti-intellectual in a meme way, rather than historically curious in any serious way. "Too afraid to call it what it is / It doesn't take a scholar to understand this" like oh Come On.

Other reasons I hate it:

"Who's gonna tell us the stories, that our textbooks don't?" Gosh I don't know, maybe Actual Historians? Believe it or not, "writing high school history textbooks" is not the sum total of what historians do. There are so many books about queer history written by queer historians out there. Aside from narratives about Stonewall, AIDS, and various worldwide rights movements in the 20th century, of which there are Lots, how about any of these books or these ones or these or this book about Sappho or these biographies of Oscar Wilde or this study of homosexuality in Ancient Greece - by a historian from the 1970s! Wow!!! Maybe historians have been thinking about this for a While! - and all the various articles written by academic historians about homosexuality in history. Untangling histories that were either treated as derogatory, hidden in shame, or ignored is important... and people are doing it. This is such a dismissal of the work that a lot of historians - especially queer historians - are doing these days!

Have you (Oublaire) ever read a biography. Even once. Historians and biographers LOVE to speculate about historical figures' sexualities. You can't get away from it. Especially when someone never married, biographers and writers looooove to speculate about the love affairs and heartbreaks they must have been having. Gay or straight. History loves lovers to the point where it's hard to find a discussion of a perpetual-bachelor-or-spinster figure that doesn't dip into trying to imagine them as Being A Lover. Yes I'm vaguing at American Bloomsbury's treatment of Thoreau (and Margaret Fuller, who she soooo wanted to be having torrid romances with both Hawthorne and Emerson) and The Fossil Hunter's insistence on imagining Mary Anning as secretly being in love with her male friend despite no evidence of this.

The haughty amatonormativity. "'Just friends' don't live like that / They don't look at each other / With love in their eyes" Deeply sorry to all Oublaire's supposed friends for learning via this song that Oublaire doesn't care about their friends, I Guess. The assumption that anyone who cares about each other has to be In Love. Fuck off.

"How many decades of hiding? Twenty-one centuries of hate Some things may not've been okay back then But it's sure all right today" This is what proves that Oublaire doesn't actually care about history. Back when? Are they implying that homophobia was invented with the birth of Christ? Was history just the same for 2,100 years, until a switch flipped in the 21st cenntury and now everyone is chill with gay people? What a narrow-sighted reduction! "It's a rhetorical flourish" well I hate it anyway. Get better rhetorical flourishes.

People who really like the song keep applying it to Achilles and Patroclus, who are, notably, fictional characters, and not historical figures.

The scansion and rhymes are terrible.

[alexjcrowley]

I saw a TikTok of Cicero and Hortensius on the music of Non-Stop (I feel like just naming Hortensius is making this niche) as someone who hasn't really thought about Hamilton in...5 years now and I have realized many thing:

1) THAT USER WAS SO RIGHT, IT IS THEM

2) Cicero's existence answers the question: what if Alexander Hamilton was a looser? (yeah historically he comes before Hamilton but I don't care right now).

3) Mark Anthony is Jefferson.

Evidence:

"Where have you been?" "Mhhhh Par Egypt" "We have to win (against this kid Ottavianus)" "SO WHAT'D I MISS"

Come on Egypt (and Cleopatra) are his France

But he is the one who dressed like fake royalty (COME ON THE PHILIPPICAE, THE CABINET'S BATTLES ARE JUST THE PHILIPPICAE)

4) I don't care for the Greek God musical, give me a musical about Ancient Rome. Come on, it is just as controversial as a musical on founding fathers. And I do want to hear Cicero rapping the Catilinarian orations.

5) ALSO COME ON CATILINE OWNS THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENS.

Bro staged a COUP D'ÉTAT to be in THE ROOM WHERE IT HAPPENS.

5) Also do you know we could have "Dear Theodosia" and "It's quiet Uptown"? Cicero's daughter, Tullia, affectionately called Tulliola, died on him when she was still young. I could talk a lot about this and how for her death Cicero created a new word in latin (taken from greek, actually: apotheosis) but if I start now I'll be very emotional.

6) "The Caesar Administration"

7) I would pay real money to see Cicero being beaten repeatedly by every historical figure in Rome

8) Atticus is his John Laurens's but like waaaay more annoyed by Cicero. He is also very "Why do you write like you're running out of time". Cicero used to write Atticus 2 times a week and an ungodly amount of pages, I want Atticus's song on "maybe I chose a bad friend".

9) Atticus coward villain song in which he gives his and Cicero's personal letters to Mark Anthony because I am not over that yet. It could be a but like Burn, you know. We're still talking letters. But Atticus is the little shit here.

10) The whole first number with people talking about Hamilton, but there are actual quotations on Cicero by fellow romans and later historians.

11) "Bright young man. Yo, who the eff is this?" will always be more Cicero-coded than any other historical figure. AT 26 CICERO CHALLENGED BASICALLY THE GOVERNMENT TO DEFEND A KID WHO WAS BEING ACCUSED OF KILLING HIS OWN FATHER BY THE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY KILLED HIS DAD SO THEY COULD TAKE HIS RICHES (I am oversimplifying a bit but what I said is essentially correct, reference is the Pro Roscio Amerino). And it was Cicero's first criminal law case. Fresh new kid from the block exposes dictatorship crimes. Nice.

12) Once again, I would pay actual money to see a song about Cicero writing the Pro Milone saying this is going to be his masterpiece and then being unable to recite it because the crowd is threatening to kill him. Just imagine Cicero with a song or without a song maybe reciting a few sentences on his own, a choir going something like "This is gonna the best oration ever" or "This is gonna be a masterpiece", "This is gonna go down in history as the best oration ever seen", you get the gist. And then he is in the square (well, the forum) and he is about about to start talking but you hear threats getting louder and louder, and a crowd with weapons, making noise with their feet (and swords!) and then Cicero just can't utter another word because he is too scared they'll kill him. His perfect oration, going to waste, not able to save his friend. Yeah I haven't got over this one either.

13) Cicero singing a song on how Augustus is going to save them. AH.

14) I think Cicero's Reynolds Pamphlet would be, you know, sentencing people to death without the provocatio ad populum (after Catiline's failed coup d'etat)

15) I already said that but Catiline villain song.

16) Funky neoteroi song. Can you imagine. Catullus and friends just following around Cicero to annoy him while he insults them.

17) Obligatory song on how Rome is changing and Republic is dead.

18) Is it a major event? No. But I would love to hear a take on what Caesar said to Cicero when they were walking all on their own after Caesar won on Pompeius. After Caesar won against Pompeius people were all expecting him in the Brindisi harbour and Cicero was dying inside because he had taken the wrong side. Again. So Caesar gets off the ship, Cicero thinks he is dead, but Caesar pardons him in front of everybody and then take him for a private walk, just them two. And sometimes instead of sleeping I think of what Caesar might have said to him.

19) I'd also need a general chorus to comment on how many bad decisions Cicero is taking.

20) song on Cicero trying to remain back his good reputation as he feels everything that he has ever known about Rome is changing and that's not his or Republican time anymore

21) angst Cicero song about holing himself up in his villa, writing philosophical dialogue because the time of politics and freedom is over

22) BAM LAST SURPRISE SONG THEY KILL HIM AND HE SINGS THE LAST SONG THAT MUSICALLY REPRISES ONE OF THE FIRST SONGS (maybe the Pro Roscio Amerino one during which he was so young and hopeful) BUT HE SINGS IT WHILE HE IS ALREADY DEAD ON THE ROSTRA LIKE THAT'S HIS SPIRIT SINGING

23) And then you see Rome become and empire with Ottavianus villanously declaring the Republic is no more

[augustus-hater]

An essay on why Octavius from NATM is NOT Augustus

It is evident that I hate Augustus. However, hating Augustus does not mean I should support misinformation about Augustus. There are many characteristics that Octavius from NATM has that do not match up with Augustus, the first Roman emperor. Here's why I believe they are completely different people:

1-Appearance

First of all, let's compare their physical appearances. Augustus has been described by Suetonius as pale, dirty blonde and blue/grey eyed. He was quite skinny and short, most likely due to his asthma preventing him from going out in his childhood and teenage years. While Octavius from NATM has dark hair, dark eyes and is well built. They don't look alike at all. I see no reason as to why the creators of NATM changed his appearance other than because 1. They are different people. or 2. NATM Octavius is a made-up ancient Roman. Of course, there may be other reasons such as Octavius' appearance not being important enough for them to do research on it but I insist that if he really were Augustus, he would not be a general at all.

2-Personality

Second of all, they have different personalities. NATM Octavius is stubborn, brave, a leader. Just your average roman general. Augustus, on the other hand, is not a man to be put on the battlefield. Augustus is said to have been completely disinterested by all things military and often fled the battlefield due to an affliction (sometimes stomach aches, sometimes asthma attacks). An example of this could be the battle of Philippi, when he fled into the marsh because he was feeling ill. He left his battles for his best friend Marcus Agrippa, who handled them with his outstanding military mind. NATM Octavius seems to have no problem with leading an army and fighting during the first movie. Another distinction between their personalities is their composure. Augustus is said to be strangely calm, no matter how bad the situation is while Octavius seems to get pretty hostile sometimes, like he did with Jedediah in the first movie.

3-Name

Third of all, their names don't exactly match. This is a very important thing, because there are many romans named "Octavius" and NATM Octavius could have been any other Octavius. Augustus' birth name was Gaius Octavius Thurinus, but he eventually changed his name to Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus, after finding out that Julius Caesar had adopted him and named him as his heir. Since then, this Roman politician has been referred to as "Julius Caesar". You may think that they called him Octavius to differentiate him with Julius Caesar but that is also wrong, because if they did change his name, they would change it to "Octavian", the name that historians used to call him before he was Augustus. They could've also used Augustus. There is nothing that really indicates that NATM Octavius is Octavian before Actium.

4-Agrippa

Because I love Agrippa, I will give him his own paragraph. NATM Octavius can do what Octavian/Augustus could not do : excel in the military domain. However, that is what Agrippa is for. Let's say Octavian learned strategies and logistics and becomes a good general. What the hell happened to Marcus Agrippa? Did he die from some illness? Perhaps gout? Did he betray Octavian? Where is he then? Is he safe? Is he alright? This paragraph is about Agrippa but Agrippa isn't Octavian's only companion. There is Taurus, another of Octavian generals. Maybe he wasn't important enough to be shown. But what about Livia? Octavian's wife? Where is she? At home? They don't really have one. Does she approve of his affair with Jedediah.? Maybe she listens to the album Be the Cowboy by Mitski because she is so sad that her husband is going on adventures and sleeping with a cowboy. What about Maecenas? What about the poets? What about Octavia? Marcellus?

The fandom doesn't acknowledge those people. However, you know which roman they remembered? Julia the elder. I was so mad when I found out you people draw them together, doing wholesome things. Augustus would never. Your fanfiction is super cute but it doesn't change what happened to Julia (TL ; DR for people who don't want to search it up : she got exiled because of Augustus' misogynistic policies against adultery (cheating on the 70 year old man you were forced to marry)). NATM fans who mention what really happened to Julia, I like you and thank you.

Though this may be subjective, I believe that NATM Octavius is not Augustus because he does not have those essential allies that Augustus had.

Conclusion

NATM Octavius is not Augustus because he does not have the same physical appearance, qualities, names & titles, and friends as him. I don't understand why people believe that Octavius is Augustus when they only share a nationality and birth nomen (not even his real name). I'm not saying this because I want to hate on Augustus without hating on Octavius because I hate Octavius too.

[theteaofhistory]

Hadrian & Antinous

The Roman Empire is a place of so many interesting stories, it is quite sad that most of them are not that well known.

Especially the one of Roman Emperor Hadrian & Antinous, which is probably one of my favourites from that time.

(So please prepare your cups, because some tragic ancient romance is about to go down)

So, Hadrian himself was like a pretty good Emperor, he did a lot to secure & strengthen the Roman Empire from 117-138 AD. He had a wife, Vibia Sabina (who is the grandniece of Hadrians Predecessor), but their marriage was rather poor. They never had any biological children (but 2 adopted ones), which may be, because Hadrians interests lay elsewhere.

Hadrian travelled a lot and during one of those in 123 AD he probably met Antinous, who was a greek from Bithynia and around 14 at the time. (meanwhile Hadrian was 47, which was quite normal back then, but it still is incredibly weird)

Of course, while Antinous became Hadrian's lover, many historians dubbed them as "very close friends" (cause of course they do, but future actions will speak for themselves). Antinous accompanied Hadrian on various travels, which leads us to Egypt in the year of 130 AD, where the tragedy begins.

While sailing on the Nile, Antinous drowned in the river, the exact circumstances remain unknown.

What is known is that Hadrian must have been lowkey pretty heartbroken and extremly sad about the death of his "very close friend", because he founded a whole city in honor of him and named it Antinoöpolis.

But it doesn't stop there, dear readers.

Hadrian ordered Antinous deification & founded an organised cult devoted to him, AND he founded games in remembrance of him. Antinous lowkey became a figure of "Pop culture" in the Roman Empire.

There even are dozens and dozens of sculptures of Antinous, which now can be found in various museums across the world.

Sometimes I wonder how people get the idea, that some people are "just good friends"? like, LOOK AT THIS.

M.

[rocklover719]

History Lessons (Jiahto x Reader) (botw/totk)

Don’t fucking look at me. I don’t know what I’m doing.

My pal @thezoraprince and I had a conversation about if we HAD to fuck an elderly Zora…who would we take? They decided on Jiahto while I picked Seggin (because let’s be honest, Dorephan is too damn big to survive)

Here’s Jiahto, and your last warning to keep your sanity- I mean unless you LIKE expired sushi?

No specific age range or gender for the reader!

———————————————————————————————————

The rain pelted the stained glass window of the office as a soft light emitted from the luminous stone and candlelight. You let out a deep sigh, comfortable, with the smell of old books, leather, and ink hanging in the air. In the hearth a cozy fire thrives, heating the quaint but cozy space. Jiahto’s office provides a calm and comfortable ambience for research. The old historian mumbles to himself, flicking through a few folders. You two had been working on piecing together more of the story of the ancient Zora and their connections to the other races throughout Hyrule, hoping to collaborate it all into a single book. As Hyrule grew, so did travel and trade. All the races felt it was important to reach out to others and spread their culture and knowledge. Jiahto took this as an opportunity to condense and spread the joys of Zora history.

Several trips to various stone monuments and days spent digging through the library archives left the two of you tired but determined to sew together any missing pieces in the known records. You had just finished your section on the Royal Zora line, which was difficult considering that the passing of the throne was not based on bloodline alone, as Sidon had informed you during your process of interviewing him. Put simply, you couldn’t just trace up one family tree. Rather, you had to search for specific documentation in the instances where a king or queen had no heir, or did not have a worthy heir. You sighed again, this time more so about the work you two still had left.

“Aha, here we are..” Jiahto nodded as he placed a new scroll on the table, this one very dusty and tattered- indicative of its age. You perked up, excited for something new.

“This appears to be from the time of Queen Rutela. This should be interesting..” Jiahto explained as he carefully opened the scroll. You stood up, standing beside him as he laid out the canvas.

You had to admit, all this time spent with the senior historian had brought the two of you closer together quite drastically. Originally your relation was cordial, polite, and distanced appropriately. But as time passed, you began to take comfort in his presence, as the two of you slowly became research companions. He is one of the most intelligent people you know and takes great care in his research. His strive for preserving and encouraging education in Zora’s domain was admirable. He was so thoughtful about it, too. He would constantly repeat phrases such as, “We must learn our history or else we are doomed to repeat it,” and “Knowledge is the power which guides the flowing stream of the mind”.

“Look here, Y/N…” He points to a string of text, his finger moving along it as he speaks, “This text here describes the prosperity of the kingdom, and how the economy was booming. And over here, the trade system between ancient Zora and Hylians.” You took diligent notes, leaning in at some points to get a better look. Jiahto kept speaking, excitement growing in his voice as he lamented from the old text.

The firewood popped, making you glance up. Jiahto didn’t stop speaking. You pull your eyes away from the fire, and take a moment to observe your friend. There was this…spark in Jiahto’s eyes- and not one from the reflection of the hearth. His cat-like eyes were softened, pupils dilated ever so slightly. A small smile had etched his way into his features, aged smile lines showing his true joy as he continued to read. It was…sweet. He was sweet. Many know the Zora for being a kind but incredibly strong race. With tall statures, strong muscles, and sharp teeth, the Zora are careful to be mild-mannered and friendly- lest their appearance alone scare off potential friends. Even the elders, while decrepit more often than not, are surprisingly strong. Zora elders are known for their bitterness and crotchety attitudes, mostly those who lived during the time before and during the Calamity. And while Jiahto was definitely stern and often chose to remain alone as he studied, he certainly has a soft side. You had grown close to him, and it seemed that he enjoyed your company as much as you did his. Often times he would carry your books for you, or hold your bag while you took down notes at a monument.

As you observed your friend, a warmth bloomed in your chest. He was caring and soft as well as determined and educated. You found that attractive. His wisdom was gathered not just from his long lifetime but also gathered from his ambition and desire to seek knowledge and grow his mind. You were so lost in the thought of your admirations of the Zora that you didn’t even realize he was looking right at you.

“…Y/N? Is something the matter?” He questioned, a bit worried by your glazed over eyes.

“Hm? What? Sorry.. I did not mean to space out!” You quickly waved your hands, attempting to hide your embarrassment. “I think it’s just been a long day, is all!”

Jiahto stared at you for a moment, for the slight blush across your cheeks did not go unnoticed by him. He was old and wise enough to understand without question, but chose to hide this. He nodded.

“It has been. Though I suppose I must have gotten carried away with my excitement. Allow me to repeat myself.” Jiahto cleared his throat, and began to restate the tale of Queen Rutela’s demise and the life of her son Prince Ralis. You listened this time and focused your attention on the scroll spread out in front of you. As Jiahto’s hand moved across the page, you found yourself leaning towards him as you followed the words on the page. You place your hand on the table for stability, accidentally brushing against his still hand in the process. With a sharp inhale, you retract your hand closer to you, putting another few inches between your hand and his on the table.

Jiahto notices, taking just a second to glance in the corner of his eye towards you, but resumes his talking. You do your best to swallow your nerves and snuff out the flames of your anxiety as you try to keep your focus. But, all of your hard effort was instantly shattered the moment you felt his hand shift to graze against yours. You froze, holding your breath, and glanced at him from under your lashes. He kept his gaze forward on the documents, and you felt his pinky slowly move over yours, intertwining slightly.

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest! He looked down at you for a moment and a small smile made its way across his lips. Your mouth hung open like a trout, and he found some humor in that. He returned to his reading, leaving you stunned. But you weren’t one to be dragged along, so you closed your jaw and took a breath before stepping closer to him, your sides just barely brushing. He reciprocated by lighting pressing into you, clearly receptive to the advance.

But after a moment or two passed he pulled away, walking to a cabinet against the wall. Your heart dropped, but only for a moment. Jiahto opened a liquor cabinet and you watched as he poured two glasses of a fine wine. He returned to the desk, holding out a glass for you with a warm expression.

“I believe we have worked hard, Y/N. We deserve a treat, won’t you say?”

You accepted the glass and smiled in return, lightly clinking it against his own before taking a sip. He did the same, though he did not take his eyes off of yours. After his sip, he took the journal he has been noting his historical findings in and motioned for his to join him on the small sofa in front of the hearth. You did not hesitate to join him. You sank comfortably into the plush material and sighed at the warmth from the blaze.

“Comfortable?” Jiahto smiled, sitting close to you, knee grazing against yours. He opened the journal and scribbled down his notes from the scroll he just read, and made his plan on where to incorporate it in the historical text you two have been planning. Then he set the journal aside and turned his full attention to you.

“Tell me, my dear, what’s gotten you in a tizzy this evening?” He remarked, a glint of mirth in his eyes. You try to avoid his gaze as your embarrassment begins to show. Suddenly the luminous stone flooring is very interesting. Just as your eyes begin to trace some of the natural inclusions, you feel a gentle finger curl under your chin. Jiahto raises your chin so that you face him properly as he gazes at you with kind eyes.

“My dear Y/N… why don’t we enjoy this evening expressing how we truly feel..?”

Historical findings be damned, this was the most important discovery of your evening.

—————————————————————————

There it is, and yes I will work on a Seggin one when my college schedule allows.

Sadly for me, physics and geology is more important than fish people.

[weirdestbooks]

Love Letters Between Ancient Tahiti and France (Wattpad | Ao3)

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This collection of letters was compiled after the French Republic reached out to the Countryhumans Research Archival Project in order to set the record straight on her relationship with the Countryhuman of Ancient Tahiti. France and Ancient Tahiti were lovers and despite the evidence proving that, many historians choose to describe them as “very good friends” because they are both women. France, annoyed by this, has given us photocopies of many of the letters exchanged, as well as an interview discussing the course of their relationship, so we can, in her words, “make those homophobic historians see what really happened.”

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Recording of an Interview with France, 28 February 2022, Transcribed and Translated from French by Pierre Roux.

[Start recording]

Interviewer: Interview with the Countryhuman of France about her relationship with the Countryhuman of Ancient Tahiti. Good morning, France. I must thank you again for contacting us about wanting an interview.

France: Of course I did. If people are going to be idiots and assume that I am a straight woman who didn’t spend the first twenty years of my life in a relationship with a woman, and a woman of color at that, I’m going to make sure no one pretends to be confused about the nature of our relationship anymore.

Interviewer: People could always just not listen to the interview. While we aren’t as obscure as we used to be, people might not want to learn.

France: Ugh, of course, humans wouldn’t. It’s these kinds of circumstances that led to me castrating Napoleon back in…1812, I think it was?

Interviewer [shocked]: You did WHAT?

France [smugly]: They don’t teach you that in your history classes, do they? Now, back to my Tahiti. Oh, that was a time. I was a new nation and eager to prove my worth. It didn’t help that many people believed I should follow the example of the France before [Transcribers Note: Referring to the Kingdom of France] and be a country that stays at home and makes the government look all pretty. I would not do that. I was born of blood and struggle, and that is the life I wanted. After the War of the First Coalition, when I had proven myself as a republic and as a countryperson, my government wanted me to rapidly expand my knowledge of the world. The one before may have been a fool and a coward, but she had been more traveled and educated than me, and my government wanted to rectify that. Not to mention, they were getting a lot of hate for having a female nation on the front lines, and they wanted me out of the way. 

Interviewer: Did they choose to send you to Tahiti?

France: They wanted me in Egypt, but I had heard stories of the Oceania isles, and I was curious, so I decided we would go there, and I could Go back to my land once I was tired and done there.

Interview: And by Go, you mean—

France: The teleportation, yes. When I first arrived in Tahiti in 1798…well, I should start by saying I was born when the Catholic church was banned in my land. So, while many of my people were Catholics, my government supported that stupid religion that had been invented, and I, in the chaos of that, would not practice anything. I started practicing Catholicism after Napoleon came into power. So…1800, 1801, perhaps. That is why, when I first saw my Tahiti, I did not feel my crush, and my love for her was a sin. That silly idea had not been taught to me. 

Interviewer: So, you have always been comfortable with your queerness?

France [laughing]: Oh, Pierre, I have always been comfortable with myself. I know who I am, even if everyone else doesn’t. 

Interviewer: How did your relationship start?

France: Ah, poorly. I would love to paint myself as being suave and sexy in this, but I was a lovestruck fool, and I won’t distort history to save face. Besides, you’ll get my letters. I was…perhaps a little too desperate for her love. But my Tahiti had this grace about her, that confidence and power, and she was awe-inspiring. She was beautiful, too. Her people called her a goddess, and I believed it. She was more beautiful than Aphrodite, a goddess of beauty to make all others jealous. In my mind, then and now forever, she was the image of exquisite perfection. 

Interviewer: It sounds like you really loved her. But what was the start of your relationship?

France: Ah, right. Well, I was very confident at the time, perhaps overconfident, and I was convinced that Tahiti would be impressed by me. I wanted to impress her because I felt I could not live up to her centuries of life. Tahiti, I think she found me funny at first. She had an air of power like any empire, an air that drew you in and made you admire her power, and I watched her twist many people around her finger with just a few short words. She was so beautiful in those moments when her beauty became a deadly kind of power.

Interviewer [concerned]: That sounds like a red flag.

France: There are details about this relationship that would horrify humans and would be seen as abusive. But this was a country-country relationship. There are inherently going to be power dynamics put into place. Was it toxic being with her? Maybe. Was she perhaps manipulating me? Maybe. But she made me happy and made me feel loved and adored. It is the same love I feel with human partners. I will not call it toxic because we loved each other, and for a country relationship between a white country and a colored one, it was very, very good. Now, back on topic, Tahiti did not seem interested at first until we grew to know each other more, and she realized that my people would have me…what’s a good word…forced, I guess, forced me to give up my affection for women. I think…she hated that, and she was very eager to support my queerness. That grew into our love. Our collective hatred for people trying to control us.

Interviewer: You began to get along because you were powerful women with similar beliefs.

France: Yes, that is a good way of putting it. I think Tahiti and her people were also what gave me the god complex I had for so long. It was brought on by being around her and her people, being seen as a goddess. Then, I would go home and be told to be a woman, and I hated that. So I began to inflate my ego, which my Tahiti helped to do, as she told me I should be treated like a god. Combined with my religious confusion, I was… pushy, mean, demanding. Part of it was due to the fact that I was not being taken seriously as a woman due to the France from before me, but Tahiti pushed that mindset. World War Two brought me out of that, with…well, you know why. My point is, I think that was the only part I would see as toxic in any way.

Interviewer: Do you think your relationship would have continued if Ancient Tahiti had lived?

France: Yes, I do think so. It never weakened in her final years, and our love only grew stronger. I believe if we had more time it could have lasted many decades more. And even if our relationship had ended, I think we could have remained friends. I have thought much about those what-ifs over the years.

Interviewer: What was the reaction of people who you knew during that time period to your relationship?

France: Hatred, scorn, and…oh, what’s the word…hmm…people did not like it, that much was clear. It was used by my enemies in the Napoleonic Wars to attempt to destroy my standing as a country, and it was used by others to treat me as lesser. I was the godless nation, and many people believed that I was never going to be blessed by God. Some even believed that I was not a Holy Angel like the other countries but rather a demon sent by the Devil to plunge France into a godless age and make it the country of sinners and the Devil.

Interviewer: How did that make you feel?

France: I didn’t care. Sure, my dear Britain brought it up in almost every conversation, acting like he had some sort of high ground, like he wasn’t beating every colony that came under his control, and many of my politicians and leaders attempted to send me to a nunnery or some other religious place to save me from sin. It never worked because they could never keep me there. When I converted to Catholicism, I appeased some, as they believed they had “purified the demon” or some such nonsense, but I never stopped being open about the fact that I was queer. Eventually, the humans gave up. The countryhumans took longer, but they, too, just accepted that they could not change me from who I am and just resorted to using it for barbs and insults like it was insulting to be queer. 

Interviewer: Did you know anyone who admired you for being queer at that time?

France: I’ve had a few people tell me now that it was appreciated, but no one brought it up then; too hesitant to be seen as gay as well. Most preferred the closet then, as I’m sure you know. I think the closest and, mind you, that this was not admiration more of the closest queer experience I had with another properly-recognized nation was with Hawaii.

Interviewer: Don’t you two hate each other? I’ve seen your tweets.

France: I’d like to think we understand each other. But I first met her when she was…starting to be indoctrinated into internalized homophobia. I always tried to convince her to give that up because she had told me about a partner, a female partner, and I…I…I didn’t want her to hate herself. We are very close in age, and I felt I could find a…confidant in her, someone who understood. Of course, I was too late; Britain was already in her head. It was a shame, but I still tried.

Interviewer: Wasn’t Hawaiʻi related to Ancient Tahiti?

France: She is…the niece of my Tahiti. Hawaiʻi believed my Tahiti was her grandmother for a long time, however.

Interviewer: Oh, right, there was a significant age gap between you and Ancient Tahiti, right?

France: She was about 2300 years older than me.

Interviewer [shocked]: Holy…did the age gap ever bother you or anyone who knew?

France: The people who knew were more concerned by the fact I was sinning by fucking her. And no, it never bothered me. We countrypeople perceive age much differently than you. A country born yesterday is an adult, while a colony born three hundred years ago is a child. How we view age is based more on status than physical or chronological years. To me, my Tahiti and I were of equal status and, therefore, of similar age.

Interviewer: That’s strange.

France: What about us isn’t? Is there anything else related to my relationship with Tahiti that you would like to know about?

Interviewer: I know you have only given us a small sample of the surviving letters that you and Ancient Tahiti sent to each other. Is there anything about the letters or your correspondence that might not be covered in the letters provided?

France: Well, we had properly the world’s first long-distance relationship.

Interviewer: I don’t think that’s right.

France: Yes, it is now hush. Much of our relationship was done through letters. We did the letter version of sexting, and we grew as partners through our letters. I was the one to show Tahiti how to travel to that little world that countries only live in, and that allowed us to meet more often and be physically affectionate with one another. Many of the more private letters I will keep to myself, as those words are meant for myself and my Tahiti, but…the ones I gave, I think, will paint an accurate picture of how we grew as lovers.

Interviewer: Thank you for your time. I have no more questions, but is there anything else you’d like to say?

France: The next person who calls me and my Tahiti “very good friends,” I will be suing for defamation.

Interviewer: Agh, alright.

[recording ends]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Letter from France to Ancient Tahiti, 12 June 1798. Translated from French by Pierre Roux. France says that this is the first letter she ever sent to Ancient Tahiti.

12 June 1798

Countryhuman of Tahiti

I hope you will excuse the lack of formalities in this letter. I have never been one for them, and you do not strike me as a woman who will mind if I am more open in this letter than another else would be. You are an intriguing woman, someone who has captured my thoughts and been the first countryhuman I have met that I would truly classify as holy and godlike. You are filled with a grace and beauty that the countries of Europe could never hope to replicate. I know that we have only known each other for a short time, but I wish that we could get to know each other more. You are more respectful to me than many of the other countryhumans I have met have been, and it is something I appreciate greatly. You recognize me as an equal, an equal in the unique power we share.

I came to your land in hopes of learning more about the world, in hopes of finding someone who appreciates me for who I am and, more importantly knows what I am. My people have not been the kindest nor the most understanding to me. They are unsure what to do with a new France that acts so differently from the old one. I’m sure you understand, after all, you have that countryhuman that so many of your people are determined to see as the new countryhuman for your land, and you must know the scorn that the supporters of that young one give you. However, our commonality is that we are both the true countryhuman in power over our land, but, unlike you, I am not respected for it. I am treated as if I am a mere human.

I don’t know exactly what I am writing this letter for. I want to start a correspondence, yes, but I really need not to bother you with my personal issues. There is just something about you that consumes my thoughts and makes me want to divulge my secrets and troubles to you. I am unsure if it is some power of our nature or simply a feeling that derives from your presence and power that you project, but you are the kind of woman that all women should strive to be. You are a being that could make Aphrodite herself jealous.

I wish you good health and good fortune for all the many hundreds of years to come.

Yours respectfully, 

The French Republic 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Letter from Ancient Tahiti to France, approximately 1804. Translated from French by Pierre Roux. 

France,

I have heard that you have become involved in another war with the other nations of Europe. I wish you luck with that. While I am unsure of how war is conducted in your land, I know it is very different from mine, so I won’t try to offer any advice other than don’t be an idiot and use people’s perceptions of you as a weapon. Those have always served me well. However, I am confident that you will have victory. You may be young, but you are more competent than many other land spirits I’ve met.

I will admit I miss your company too. You are entertaining to talk to, and I enjoy getting to share stories and spend time together. It is a shame that our land has to be so far and that delivering letters takes so long. I wish to hear news faster and know what is happening in your land. I know you are having internal problems, and that, combined with the new war, makes me worry for you. Farāni, I do not want to lose you, not when I have just met you. We have barely begun to know each other in a way that surpasses who we are as goddesses, and I want to think that we could be friends for a long time.

You and I have much in common, and I wish to learn more about your styles of combat and your strange customs. You are fascinating and full of fury and courage that I have seen land spirits twice your age lack. When you return, I wish to learn from you and teach you. I am many hundreds of years old, and in all my years I have never met someone like you. You are strange and in many ways foreign, but that is what I like the most. I have grown somewhat bored and complacent in the repetitive day to day life I have lived here for the past thousand or more so odd years. You bring an excitement to my life that I have not felt in a long time. 

I thank you so much for that.

The last thing I wish to talk to you about concerns the captains from your nation, as well as other places in Europe, that visit. They do not speak positively of you, something that concerns me greatly. They do not understand that you are a goddess, that you are above them. They talk about you as if you were a common criminal. They speak as if your bold and fierce nature is a crime. They say they want to drain you of all that you are and turn you into something so terrible I cannot find the words for it.

They speak as if you, in all that you are, are wrong. It is most terrible. I would defend your honor on your behalf, but they respect me less than they respect you, and I know you would much rather fight your own battles. It disgusts me.

I hope you do well in your battles and show those other nations the Fārani that I know.

Tahiti

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Letter from Ancient Tahiti to France, approximately 1812. Translated from French by Pierre Roux. France informed us that her human name at the time was Catherine, and Ancient Tahiti often used the more Tahitian form of the name, Tatarina, in their letters.

Tatarina, 

I am so delighted to hear of what you did to Napoleon. I know you will regret it because he is your leader, and you are you, but you cannot argue that he did not deserve it. He has spent much of his reign trying to deny you your place and your purpose simply because you are a female in a relationship with me. It is against the very nature of the world for him to do that, and I am so happy that you showed him who you are and the consequences of going against the divine. Napoleon already disliked much about you, so it’s not like you are losing any sort of respect with the man.

Do not feel guilty about that. It is not your fault, and I find it very amusing. 

I have been practicing going to that strange world you showed me how to visit, and it has been very enlightening. I am glad that I now have the skill to be able to visit you more frequently, and be able to share my affection with you outside of just the words we write in these letters. It is far more fun and far better to see you in person. I still write to you, however, because I enjoy doing so, and the power of the written word will never stop being exciting to me. Your past letters also cheer me up, and I can read them when things involving that false god that calls itself a kingdom get rough.

Truth be told, my love, is that I am starting to believe that that kingdom will take my place, like how that Kingdom of Hawaiʻi took the place of my son. For the first time in my life, I am beginning to grow worried about the possibility of death. I have met many young countries recently, and it seems like the world is in the middle of a great change, where all the gods of old are being replaced by younger ones. Despite my worries, I ask you not to worry about me. I know you will because your heart is big and you care far too much about others (even if you don’t care about what they think of you) and know that even if I do die, it is far from your fault and that you made my last days some of the greatest and most exciting of my entire life.

I wish that there had not been this great change in the world, that so many people I knew and loved didn’t pass, for I wish I could have introduced you to my family the way I have with many of my other partners. I hope that you could have met my children and I yours. But between all those that have passed here and the endless wars you have been caught up in by Europe’s refusal to leave you in peace, I fear that that may not be possible for many more years.

I know those years will pass quickly for me, for I, as old as I am, see time so quickly pass. But with you being so young, I know those years will pass by slowly. As you have said many times in past letters, six months is too long for you. 

But if time truly does pass by slower for you, then perhaps, if I do only have a few short years left, those will feel like an eternity to you. 

With all the love I have to give, 

Tahiti

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Letter from Ancient Tahiti to France, approximately 1814. Translated from French by Pierre Roux. 

Tatarina, why is it that whenever I hear of you, you are at war? I know that you do not seem eager for it and that you blame the other nations of Europe, but why is it that they attack you and leave you unable to leave for a visit? Why do they keep you from me? I miss you, and visiting you in that world is not the same as when your mind is clouded by war and fear. 

I worry still that all this war will cause you to waste away into a shell of yourself. I have seen time change many, but I worry that if wars do not end for you, it will change you beyond repair. However, that depressing matter is not what I want to discuss today. I send you letters to bring you joy and hope in these hard times for you, not to bring you down with the ramblings of an old woman. However, my mind has been clouded recently, and I find it hard to keep myself thinking positively. I do not know if it is my fear for you, that you will eventually lose against superior numbers, or if it is the fact that meeting you made me begin to feel lonely when you aren’t around.

I am beginning to wish I had been more open to having human friends. I try now, but too many of them fear the goddess Tahiti, and the friendship I am trying to achieve feels more like worship. I know you have a human friend, and I want to know how you did that. How did you convince a human that although you may be a goddess, you can be just like them? How did you convince them you wanted to know them for friendship, not worship? I cannot figure it out, and you have a way with people. You have a way that I lack, and I think that is a flaw on my part. I did not understand how wonderful friendship really was until you.

It has been so many hundreds of years since I have had a true friend, and as much as I love you, you are far, far more than a friend to me. I hope that this request is not seen as silly by you. I can’t wait to see you again.

Much love, 

Tahiti

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Letter from Ancient Tahiti to France, approximately 1819. Translated from French by Pierre Roux. 

Tatarina,

My love, I write this with shaky hands, feeling weaker than ever. I write this with tears on my face and love in my heart, wishing that I was by your side so I could tell you this in person. I write this wishing I had the strength to travel to that in between so I could hold you one last time.

I write this, knowing I am about to die.

I have much to say, so I write this hastily. I do not know when death will come for me, and I do not want to pass before I can finish my last words to you.

First, you are not allowed to blame yourself for my death. The only person at fault is the kingdom and it’s foolish people, and those are the only people you are allowed to blame. Any guilt and anger you have should be placed on them, not on yourself. 

Second, you must get around to killing Britain at some point. He is annoying, and I know you dislike him greatly. I know for a fact that you are stronger and more capable than him, and I have faith that someday, you will be the victor in your rivalry. You can put an end to what your mother started with England all those years ago.

Third, I know you will lose your teacher of my language with me gone, but I implore you to seek out someone else who can teach you my language. You might not be the most fluent speaker, but the way you speak my language is beautiful, and I would hate for the world to lose that beauty just because I am gone.

Lastly, the time we had together, however short, was some of the best years of my life. I loved the time we spent together, and I love you so badly that the thought of leaving you behind hurts me more than any wound. I am not prepared to be the one to leave someone behind. Normally, I am left behind by others. I know that hurts like it is an old friend, and I know that my death will hurt you. But please, never be afraid to love again just because I am gone. The hurt of my death will fade in time, and any person you choose to be in a relationship with after I am gone will be a very lucky person indeed. I am fortunate to be your first love, and I am grateful that you were my last.

All my love, now and forever, 

Tahiti