#menstrual rites

[haggishlyhagging]

Among the plaited objects in the menstruant's hut, one of the first may have been her rug. Since she was forbidden to touch the ground with any part of her body, leaves were spread for her, banana leaves, broad pandanus leaves, pine boughs, or bark. Later the floor covering would be woven or fitted together—mats, sticks of bamboo, slats of wood. From this practice, it seems reasonable to suppose, people may have developed the habit of putting wooden floors in their houses.

During her seclusions she would have also acquired the wooden chair and stool as a matter of course, because her vulva could not touch the earth: "Among the Yabim and Bukaua, two neighbouring and kindred tribes on the coast of Northern New Guinea, a girl at puberty is secluded for some five or six weeks in an inner part of the house; but she may not sit on the floor, lest her uncleanliness should cleave to it, so a log of wood is placed for her to squat on." The menstruant squatted on special materials that kept her safely raised: slabs of wood, slabs of leather, woven mats, and in clothmaking cultures, pillows. Rachel, in Genesis, sat upon a special "camel chair" seat to menstruate.

The menstruant was propped up with logs or branches on three sides and underneath, to keep her contained and to keep her from lying down or from falling asleep. This form of her sitting body, outlined in wood, needed only to have its parts lashed together to become what we know as a chair. Men of course acquired the right to sit in chairs, just as they acquired clothing. My father and mother each had a designated chair, and they rarely sat anywhere else; chairs now belong to both genders. But as with all cosmetikos, the ideology for and the source of the form chair belong to the menstrual seclusion rites.

From the nakedness of the primal ancestress in her elemental hut, to the menstruant's emergence in full public ceremony at the end of her seclusion, women enacted and communicated fundamental mysteries by dressing in metaforms. The menstruant's paraphernalia piled up around her —her bowls, her straws, her mats, and her plates. They were hers alone; no one else could use them without being harmed. If she didn't break them, they had to be stored in special places, kept away from others in what would eventually become trunks, boxes, baskets, closets, cupboards—and my mother's red cedar chest. Her utensils would be carefully wrapped and cleaned, kept, like her, in the dark. She would become the one with the overflowing purse, the trunks of clothing, the hatboxes, the rolls of rugs and blankets, and the shelves of household "goods" that formed the basis, not only for family and village life, but for all technological measurement. The woman would carry her paraphernalia with her. She would become the gender who—around the world—carries the largest burdens.

-Judy Grahn, Blood, Bread, and Roses: How Menstruation Created the World

[tanuki-kimono]

Cw: We are going to talk here about periods, and sex education in the past. Read this note according to your own sensibilities :)

How women dealt with periods during Edo period, article by shunga enthousiast Shungirl who made a paper pad following instructions found in makura bunko 枕文庫 - ie ancient sex books illustrated with erotic ukiyoe.

One of such makura bunko is 渓斎英泉 Keisai Eisen's 閨中紀聞-枕文庫, first published in 1822. It details Chinese remedies recipes for menstrual pains and irregularities, give tips about sex, and information about menstruations and pregnancy. From a modern point of view, some beliefs are outdated, but it was then such a bestseller it went through several reeditions.

Several words were apparently in use during Edo era to designates menstrual period: keisui 経水, gekkei 月経, tsukiyaku 月水, etc.

When girls went throught their first period, their females relatives or nannies would taught them how to deal with them. One method was to use paper as sanitary products (please note people without easy access to paper probably dealt with periods differently).

__________ 御馬 paper pads

Sanitary pads, such as the one recreated above by Shungirl, were then called mima 御馬 (probably as a pun on true "mima" which were then fine horses own by noblemen, or attached to sanctuaries as mounts for gods etc) or simply ouma お馬 ("honorable" horse).

Ouma were made from inexpensive recycled paper called Asakusagami 浅草紙. Sheets were folded 8 times, tied with twisted paper strings (koyori 紙縒), and then wrapped with another layer of folded paper. It was secured once again with paper strings.

Part of the strings could be left long so to tie around the waist, or/and pad was hold into place by wearing fundoshi 褌 loincloth (which would also help prevent leaking on inner tights).

Asakusagami quality was low (it was also used as toilet paper) so paper pads had to be changed often, meaning you had to fold quite a lot of them to go through your period!

Shungirl folded the pad above following instructions found in the book 実娯教絵抄, which provided several other "models":

__________ 詰め紙 paper tampons

Another method for dealing with periods were tampon-like paper bundles which were inserted into the vagina, the 詰め紙 (tsumeshi? I am not sure of the reading).

This method may have first appeared in red-light districts (?). Beside its use for periods, prostitutes also used those tampons as method of contraception (OP has an interesting article on this subject).

By the end of Edo period and into Meiji, paper tampons were widely used even by women who were not prostitutes - despite voices branding this method as unsanitary.

__________ About girls' coming of age rites

Menarche (first period) was an important milestone for girls, and was celebrated as such via specific rites (shochō o iwau 初潮を祝). Those differed a lot from places to places, and also depended on social status.

Celebrations would concern close family, but often spread to wider community who could received for example a festive meal (sekihan 赤飯) for the occasion (some Edo era senryû poems stress how mortifying this publicity could be!).

Interestingly, some traditions were also pretty sweet: in some places, mothers would sew 3 stiches into their daughter's underskirt (koshimaki 腰巻き) as a good luck charm, hoping their periods would last only 3 days <3

Those rites were part of coming of age traditions (seijoshiki 成女式) which marked the start of a young woman adulthood. Another example is the blackening of teeth (ohaguro お歯黒) which usually started around 16-17 years old.

Celebrating menarche publicly was a way of advertising that the girl was no longer a child and would "soon" be a bride. Yet, if menarche often took place around 13-14 years old, in reality it was somehow unusual to have girls married so soon!

Before marriage, especially in non-noble/samurai families, young women often started their sexual life via flings or yobai 夜這い ("night crawling" ie pseudo-secret nighttime encounters) before any wedding actually took place.

[nyxshadowhawk]

Hellenic Gods Fact Sheets and Hymns: Hecate

Other Names: Trivia, Brimo

Epithets: Anassa eneroi  (queen of those below), Aidonaia (lady of the Underworld), Amibousa (she who changes), Atalus (tender, delicate), Borborophorba (she who feeds on filth), Brimo (angry, terrifying), Despoina (mistress), Eileithyia (of childbirth), Enodia (of the roads), Epaine (dread), Euplokamos (bright-tressed), Khthonia (of the Underworld), Kleidouchos (keeper of the keys), Kourotrophos (protector of children), Krokopelos (saffron-robed), Liparokredemnos (bright-coiffed), Nycteria (nocturnal; of the night), Nyctipolos (night-wandering), Perseis (destroyer/ daughter of Perses), Phosphoros (light bearer), Propolos (guide), Propylaia (the one before the gate), Scylacagetis (leader of dogs), Soteira (savior), Trikephalos (three-headed/of the crossroads), Trimorphos (three-formed), Trioditis (of the three ways), Trivia (of the three ways).

Domains: Witchcraft, magic, necromancy, ghosts, nightmares, death, initiation, the crossroads, gateways, passage between worlds, and the night.

Appearance: [My UPG] A tall (over 6’) woman, neither young nor old, with waist-length black hair, pale skin, prominent cheekbones, a heavy jaw, and intense green eyes. She is usually dressed in black folds molded into a simple dress or robes. She has a severe expression and an intimidating presence. She speaks with a low voice.

Sacred Days and Festivals: Eleusinia (22 Metageitnion). Nemoralia (August 13th-15th). Deipnon, last day of each (lunar) month.

Symbols/Attributes: Torches, keys, daggers, strophalos (iynx wheel)

Sacred Animals: Dog, polecat, serpent, horse, frog.

Sacred Plants: Yew, cypress, garlic, willow, hazel, black poplar, aconite, belladonna, dittany, mandrake, hemlock, asphodel

Elemental Affinity: Darkness, light, fire

Planet: Moon

Colors: Black, saffron, silver.

Crystals: Black onyx, hematite, obsidian, black tourmaline, moonstone, smoky quartz, agate, amethyst.

Incense: Myrrh, almond, cypress, camphor, saffron, mugwort, pomegranate.

Tarot Cards: The High Priestess, The Moon, Death

Retinue: Empousai, ghosts of the dead, dogs, Lampades (torch-bearing underworld nymphs)

Associated People: Witches (and other magic-users), the dead

Offerings: Bread, eggs, honey, garlic, menstrual blood, graveyard dirt.

Syncretized With: Artemis, Diana, Persephone, Eileithyia, Selene, Nephthys, Ereshkigal, Nicnevin, Heqet

Hymns to Hecate

Orphic Hymn to Hecate

Hekate Enodia, Trivia, lovely dame, Of earthly, watery, and celestial frame, Sepulchral, in a saffron veil arrayed, Pleased with dark ghosts that wander through the shade; Daughter of Perses, solitary goddess, hail! The world’s key-bearer, never doomed to fail; In stags rejoicing, huntress, nightly seen, And drawn by bulls, unconquerable, monstrous queen; Leader, Nymphe, nurse, on mountains wandering, Hear the suppliants who with holy rites thy power revere, And to the herdsman with a favoring mind draw near.

Hecate’s Hymn to Herself

I come, a virgin of varied forms, wandering through the heavens, bull-faced, three-headed, ruthless, with golden arrows; chaste Phoebe bringing light to mortals, Eileithyia; bearing the three synthemata [sacred signs] of a triple nature.  In the Aether I appear in fiery forms and in the air I sit in a silver chariot, Earth reins in my black brood of puppies.

(From Porphyry’s lost commentary on the Chaldean Oracles, preserved by Eusebius of Caesaria in Praeparatio Evangelica. According to Porphyry, this hymn was composed by Hecate herself.)

Magical Invocation to Hecate

Approach, you of the netherworld, of earth, of heaven, Bombo! You by the wayside, at the crossroads, light-bearer, night-wanderer, Enemy of light, friend and companion of night, Rejoicing in the howl of dogs and in crimson gore, Lurking among the corpses and the tombs of lifeless dust, Lusting for blood, bringing terror to mortals, Grim one, Ogress [Mormo], Moon – you of many forms, May you come gracious to our sacrificial rites!

(Preserved in Refutation to All Heresies by Hippolytus)

Invocation to Hecate from PGM IV 2708-84

Come, giant Hecate, Dione’s guard, O Persia [daughter of Perses], Baubo Phroune, dart-shooter, Unconquered Lydian, the one untamed, Sired nobly, torch-bearing, guide, who bends down Proud necks, Kore, hear, you who’ve parted / gates Of steel unbreakable. O Artemis, Who, too, were once protectress, mighty one, Mistress, who burst forth from the earth, dog-leader, All-tamer, crossroad goddess, triple-headed, Bringer of light, august / virgin, I call you Fawn-slayer, crafty, O infernal one, And many-formed. Come, Hekate, goddess Of three ways, who with your fire-breathing phantoms Have been allotted dreaded roads and harsh / Enchantments, Hekate I call you

[…]

O Hekate of many names, O Virgin, Kore, Goddess, come, I ask, O guard and shelter of the threshing floor Persephone, O triple-headed goddess, Who walk on fire, cow-eyed BOUORPHORBE PANPHORBA PHORBARA AKITOPHI ERESHKIGAL / NEBOUTOSOUALETH Beside the doors, PYPYLEDEDEZO And gate-breaker; Come Hekate, of firey Counsel, I call you to my sacred chants.

[odinsblog]

Traccye Love used hair relaxers for years and believes the chemicals in those hair products are related to her uterine fibroids. Love, of Oak Park, had a hysterectomy two years ago and is one of thousands of women who have filed suit against the hair care companies.

Growing up in Chicago’s Chatham neighborhood in the late 1990s, Traccye Love wished for the long, smooth tresses of pop star Aaliyah.

“That was the look then — smooth and straight,” said Love, of Oak Park. “My mom would press it (with a hot comb), but I wanted it to stay straight.”

Love wasn’t allowed to get her first chemical hair relaxer until she turned 18. For most of the women in her close-knit, predominantly Black community, the rite of passage of using relaxers to straighten their naturally kinky, thick hair had come much younger. Love’s mother worried about the dangers of using a relaxer: chemical burns or brittle hair caused by lye and similar chemicals in hair-straightening products.

Throughout college, and well into her 30s, Love slathered on chemicals from home straightening kits every six weeks or so. Then, in her late 30s, she began to feel knee-buckling abdominal pain during her menstrual cycles — on her worst days each month, Love downed five 200-milligram tablets of ibuprofen every four hours.

“It felt like someone was taking my ovary and twisting it like a balloon,” Love said.

After several years and trips to three different doctors, tests revealed Love had multiple, golf ball-sized fibroid tumors in her uterus. In 2022, at the age of 38, she had a hysterectomy. She was still using hair relaxers until her husband spotted a social media post about lawsuits targeting the manufacturers. She now thinks the relaxers caused her tumors.

“It had never occurred to me that there was serious risk to using relaxers,” Love said. “I thought the risk was getting scalp burns.”

In October 2022, the first of several thousand lawsuits was filed at the Dirksen Federal Courthouse in the Loop by a woman from St. Louis claiming that chemicals in hair relaxer products she used — such as Soft Sheen, Just for Me and Dark & Lovely — caused her cancer.

(continue reading)

[hekatean-path]

Ways I connect with Hekate and my deities when I am feeling burnt out

Sometimes, there are days or weeks when I feel so burnt out that I forget to pray or worship my deities. It happens to all of us, and it is perfectly normal. So, I have found subtle ways to pay my respects to my deities that are meaningful but also don't weigh too heavy on my mind.

Hekate:

In Sorita d'Este's book Hekate: Liminal Rites, it mentions that some of Hekates devotees were vegetarian or did not use meat in their rituals. So, I have made 95% of my diet plant-based as a devotional act to Hekate.

Another thing I do is if I can not think of anything to say as a prayer to Hekate when I am at her alter, I play TikToks or Reels of prayers and hymns other people have created. It's not as powerful as saying your own prayer, but it is a good substitute if you can not think of anything.

Aphrodite:

I have a playlist of devotional songs to Aphrodite, which I play in the shower. These songs are also centred around the sea. I find the ocean sounds and songs soothing and cleansing.

I dedicate my makeup and skincare to routine to Aphrodite.

Selene:

As well as being the goddess of the moon, Selene has also been linked to the menstrual cycle. So I have dedicated mine to Selene, and at the start of my mind, I ask her for a good cycle.

I also track the moon cycle and plan my activities around the position of the moon. If the moon is close to a new moon, I will take things easier and put more effort into my self care routine.

Nemesis:

Out of all the deities I worship, I work the least with Nemesis. Not because I don't like her, it's just because my connection to her is not as strong as it is with others. Saying that, one of my small devotional acts to Nemesis is standing up for myself when I am being bullied. I am a quiet person, so standing up for myself is hard. But I do it as a devotional act to Nemesis.

Thanathos:

My route to my nail salon goes through a cemetery, and ravens/crows frequent the area. When I walk through the cemetery, I pay my respects to the crows/ravens that guard the area. I also take the time to honour those who are laid to rest there and reflect on my life and how much love there is.

[serpentface]

What body parts do people typically do their daily bloodletting from? Is there any significance for blood coming from specific locations? And are infections common among bloodletting, particularly with using plants?

It's expected to perform everyday offerings from the hands and lower forearms in the vast majority of cases. On a philosophical level (which the average everyday person will not be actively thinking about) the hand is the place of interaction between the body and the outside world, the body's mode of Action and transformation of its environment, which makes its blood very powerful while also highly versatile in use. The exact location on the hand/forearms does not matter for generalized offerings, and people will alternate between specific points (either with each offering, or sequentially as an area becomes scarred) throughout their lifetime.

Most people will have visible scarring, which both practically identifies one as adherent to orthopraxy and is a metaphysical signifier and agent- one has the signs and proof of a sustained connection to God permanently marked into the skin (one of the exceptions to taboo about permanent body marking for its highly specific purpose). Many people find these scars to be a source of comfort, a pinpoint on the body in which they can strongly feel their connection to divinity. It's a very intimate (though not necessarily romantic) affectionate gesture to kiss someone's scars, as a part of the body that is reckoned both deeply vulnerable and empowered- kind of establishing a connection to a very private, important part of a person.

Blood in of itself is regarded as having a universal power as the vessel for the body's living spirit, but there is great significance ascribed to blood coming from specific locations in regard to the Wardi medical-spiritual model of the body, where normal physical function is sustained by bloodflow carrying the living spirit through each part and organ and allowing these parts to perform their physical/spiritual functions. Location is important for more specified rites wherein certain Kinds of blood need to be offered, usually in league with the body part's perceived/actual function (you'll most frequently see rites requiring blood specifically from the hands, feet, lips, tongue, penis, or breasts).

This applies to animals as well- some sacrifices are generalized offerings of the entire body (in which case the throat just needs to be slit to allow the blood to drain) while others might require the extraction of blood from internal organs for specific purposes (in which case the animal is killed with less blood being spilled, and opened up to have its organs processed). This is not as applicable to human sacrifice, as the only officially condoned human offerings occur at the peak of the dry season and require all blood to be drained from the body, as an exceptionally grave and powerful offering of an entire body and living spirit in recreation of God's self-sacrifice to bring life to an empty earth.

Menstrual blood also has significance. It has a dual nature as an indicator of health and fertility, but considered to be impurity expelled from the womb and the bloodstream at large and to be a spiritually polluting substance. There are a select few rites intended to utilize and direct this impurity- it can be used in curses and countercurses, particularly pertaining to fertility (ie if your crops are poor and this is reckoned as caused by a curse, menstrual blood can be involved in the process of breaking the curse and restoring fertility).

The ritual prioritization of physical cleanliness goes some ways to decreasing infection rates. The majority of people bathe on a daily basis (though the cleanliness of the water used varies) which is seen as a necessity for physical/spiritual cleansing, and social etiquette (there's HEAVY disdain towards strong body odors in this culture). Vinegar has been widely used for cleansing for generations, with its use having been discovered through evidence based medical practice and being ascribed (largely indistinguished) physical and spiritual cleansing properties. The majority of urban people have access to vinegar and use this to clean tools and wounds, which greatly decreases infection risk. Everyday bloodletting wounds are also very small and shallow and not at tremendous risk of infection.

Infection still is known to occur- families are usually sharing tools, vinegar is not universally accessible (nor the absolute best antimicrobial agent), water used as a substitute is often taken directly from rivers or the sea, piercing with thorns results in a deeper puncture wound that may be harder to clean, etc. Bloodletting wounds that become infected are interpreted as a consequence of having entered into the rites unclean, which means the rite has failed, the connection not made, and polluting entities have been able to enter the body that would have been otherwise blocked by the established blood-spirit flow with God.

[techhasmjolnir]

Rites of the Covenant

Plot A: You're out on an extended scientific mission with Clone Force 99, assessing a planet for possible threats before the Republic moves ahead with plans for colonization. Damaged equipment leaves you and the squad stuck on the planet until replacements arrive.

Plot B: Hunter fulfills an intensely private mission of his own.

Author's Notes:

This is another one-shot story with a hefty word count (10,696). It features subject matter that is not intended for squeamish readers. The latter half of the story is roughly based on personal experience, although for the sake of entertainment, there is some embellishment. Please proceed with caution, and if you like what you read, please feel free to reblog!

Important Notes:

This content is strictly for audiences 18+. The roles in this story assume female readers and Hunter. Concepts introduced include: biting, blood, blood play, dirty talk, F oral (receiving), M & F masturbation, menstrual cycle, pain, PiV, and voyeurism (accidental).

The assignment was a relatively straightforward one – you, one of the Republic's leading scientists in the highly specialized field of bioacoustics, were to head to the planet of Eyyhá to record data and assess the feasibility of possible human colonization. Normally, a squad of regs would have been assigned to you for security detail and general assistance out in the field. However, this time around, you were left with questions when the word came down that a squad of specialist clone troopers – Clone Force 99 – would be accompanying you.

You found out that General Skywalker and Captain Rex were the ones who pitched the idea of giving you this assignment after your assistance helped the 501st locate a deeply hidden Separatist base that previously, no one was able to detect. You received the proper clearance, and the day you first met the squad still sticks out in your mind. Memories of Rex walking you up to the guys, who were casually waiting outside the Marauder for you to arrive... Remembering the looks each one of them gave you, particularly the tall silver-haired one, and the one with the facial tattooing; you assumed him to be the squad leader before he even spoke.

“Men, I'd like to introduce you to Dr. Y/N. She will be accompanying you on this mission to gather critical bioacoustic data that will ultimately lead to a decision as to whether Eyyhá can be colonized. You are to provide round the clock security and assist with any help she needs out in the field.”

The silver-haired one looked at you, an expression of contempt riddled upon his lips. “Just great...our talents being underutilized yet again for a civilian. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my bunk.” He picked up the large rifle at his side and walked into the ship. “Hunter, why are we even doing this?!” he said loudly, before disappearing.

“I'm really sorry about that,” the tattooed one spoke, his voice low and smooth. “That's Crosshair, by the way. Resident sniper, and usually a completely insufferable asshole. I'm Sergeant Hunter. I'm glad to meet you.”

“No offense taken, Sergeant. I've worked with regs before and gotten my share of snide remarks, but his was a bit much,” you reply, a little curtly.

“Please, call me Hunter. Everyone else does,” he said with a genuine smile. “Let me introduce you to the rest of my squad. The behemoth next to me is Wrecker, our demolitions expert. The one with the cybernetics and wearing the kama is Echo, who's new to the squad. The one who can't seem to be pulled away from his datapad for a split second, is Tech. Both Tech and Echo's electronics and engineering skills should be invaluable in the field.”

You smiled at the one called Wrecker, who caught your gaze and returned it with a light wave. “Glad to have you aboard, Y/N! If you need anything blown up, I'm your man!”

Hunter put his face into his hand, shaking lightly. You laughed heartily and winked. “I don't think there will be any real need for explosives on this mission, but you never know!”

Both Echo and Tech looked over at you. Echo smiled and gave you a salute with his scomp-link arm. “Welcome, Y/N. I'm looking forward to assisting you in any way possible.”

Tech looked up from his datapad and nudged his lenses up with a finger, nodding a few times in what you considered to be approval. “I have heard a great deal about you, Dr. Y/N. Your work as a bioacoustician is unparalleled. I read your last published journal...remarkable observations, I must say. I look forward to working with you, as well.” He glanced down at his datapad once more, tapping away at it absentmindedly.

Rex clapped his hands together once. “Excellent! You're in good hands with these men. You'd better be on your way. Intel we received indicates it will be best to land on the day side of the planet and establish a base camp. We know the planet is teeming with life, but the last thing you need are any unwanted surprises in the dark.”

“Then we'll take our leave, Rex. Let me take those cases from you, Y/N,” Hunter offered, picking up both the heavy black cases like they were nothing. “Good luck, everyone. May the Force be with you,” Rex called as Hunter took your belongings into the Marauder, Echo and Tech entering behind him, with you and Wrecker bringing up the rear.

Wrecker clapped you on the back a little too cordially, causing you to stumble with your overloaded backpack full of personal effects. He caught you just before you fell face first onto the entrance ramp, laughing loudly. “Sorry about that! Guess I don't know my own strength! I'm happy you're joining us. I don't know what bio... Uhh, bioac-- What is it that you do, again?”

You paused a moment, turning around to look at Rex, with his always handsome, stoic face. Raising your arm, you waved to him. He nodded once, then turned and walked off. Turning back, you looked up at Wrecker, feeling supremely tiny next to him. “I'm a bioacoustician, Wrecker. It means I study the sounds of nature, put simply.”

He nodded thoughtfully, and you knew he was trying to figure out exactly what you meant. “Well, I don't know what you'll do with all that, but it sounds kind of boring, if I'm being honest.” His remark caught you just the right way, making you laugh long and hard. “You're not the first one to say that to me, Wrecker. It's definitely not for everyone...”

His infectious laughter joined yours. “Come on, let's get you a bunk so you can settle in.”

*****

The mission was doomed from the very start. You quickly realized the intel was missing critical information that didn't prepare you or the squad for the horrific storms Eyyhá often has, and not long after you had set up base camp, some of the equipment had been struck by lightning. Cases of precious sensor arrays and receivers were mangled beyond repair, although you had Tech and Echo look at the blackened parts to see if anything was salvageable. They looked at you, and didn't even say anything...they just shrugged and gave you the look that clearly said, “sorry, you're shit out of luck.”

Thankfully you still had a few spares to at least get some work started, but without everything in place, it was rather pointless to start data collection. Your request to the Senate to return to Coruscant was denied after being told that despite how little functional equipment you had left, you needed to begin research immediately; a transport with replacement equipment would be sent as soon as you submitted a request with your needs.

Much to your chagrin, most attempts at field work have been rained out thus far, so you've spent more time hanging out with the guys in the Marauder than you have doing any actual research. They've certainly turned out to be a lot different than the regs you've worked with in the past. Very distinct personalities, senses of humor, personal habits... Hunter and Wrecker warmed up to you very quickly. Wrecker took to you so much, he affectionately started calling you ad'íka, while Echo and Tech took a little longer to come around, and Crosshair... You're still unsure of Crosshair.

Initially, you were afraid that being a woman, the risk of awkwardness or sexual tension would be quite high, especially since you were spending a lot of time in close quarters with them. Quite the opposite, actually...you get along with them very well, tolerating the light flirtation and off-color remarks better than you thought you would. You discovered just the level of respect they had for you the week you went through your period for the first time while on the mission.

You pulled Hunter aside just before you were due to start, and cautiously explained what was about to happen. At the time, you couldn't have known that he already knew, because the changes of your pheromones in the days prior, along with subtle behavioral changes, told him so. He was empathetic, offering to make up a makeshift bunk for you away from the others, if that's what made you feel most comfortable.

He explained that women worked alongside them on other assignments in the past, so he wasn't uncomfortable with the subject. Little did you know that those days leading up to and including you bleeding, would be some of the most arousing and tempting for Hunter. That was four weeks ago...

*****

Early this morning, you wanted to go exploring, extending the invite for the entire squad to join you. It finally stopped raining, and you wonder if this is just a temporary reprieve from what you believe to be Eyyhá's rainy season. Echo declined, offering to stay back at the Marauder, trying to think of ways to modify equipment to help you until the new parts come. The rest of the men were more than happy to come with you, grateful for fresh air and a change of scenery.

Here you are now, sitting in a field of tall prairie grass, swaying gently with the warm summer breeze. There's not much of anything you can do right now except scribble notes in your field journal about meteorologic observations and visible flora and fauna. After finding out replacements may take up to six weeks to arrive because your parts requisition request had been mishandled, you resigned yourself to the fact you might have to chalk up this mission as a failure. Looking up at the clear blue sky, you put your field journal in your backpack and lie back in the grass, hands cradling your head.

Unbidden thoughts of Hunter flit through your mind – some savory, some not so much. You've discovered through casual observation, coupled with confirmation from Tech, that Hunter's genetic enhancements shine through in his senses of hearing, and especially scent; his exceptionally keen tracking skills are merely another perk. A thought races through your mind now, thinking back several weeks to when you had last gone through your cycle – was he able to SMELL all that?

Oh, Maker, I hope not... Then you realize how much time has actually passed, and that you're due for your next cycle within the next day or two. That would explain why you haven't been sleeping well for the past several days, despite the fact you've been feeling quite fatigued.

“Oh...shit...” you say, thinking that no one is within earshot.

“Y/N, what's the matter? Is everything all right?” Hunter asks, emerging over the top of the grass, very close to you.

You let out a startled gasp, then cover your eyes with a hand. “No, Hunter, not really. I need to make use of the spare bunk...I just realized that now,” you say a little sheepishly.

He looks at you with those expressive brown eyes of his, concerned, but caring all at the same time. “No worries, I'll make sure it's fixed up for you.” “I'm sorry this is so much of a hassle,” you blurt out. “I can't help it, and I'm sure it doesn't make things any easier for any of you. ”

“Hey now, what kind of talk is that?” Hunter replies, coming to sit down next to you. “This isn't a hassle at all. Sure, the rest of us have to make some minor adjustments, but it really is no trouble, I assure you. When I get back to the Marauder, I can set it up for you, okay?”

Out of nowhere, his finger comes to your face, pulling a lock of stray hair back into place. He smiles gently at you, then gets up and starts walking back to the ship. You touch the place on your face where his finger had been, shivering a little. You have no idea what that's about, but the slow heat beginning to build between your legs is trying to tell you otherwise.

The warmth of the sunshine feels quite comforting today, so you close your eyes and exhale deeply. The rest of the guys are somewhere nearby and won't leave without you, so now seems like a perfectly acceptable time to catch a little loth cat nap. Maybe in dreams, Hunter's actions will become more apparent. You already think he's the most attractive of the squad, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't fantasize about him fucking you hard at least a couple of times, especially the last time you went through your cycle...

*****

Hunter's strong, warm hands slide their way up your legs, parting them when he comes to your knees. Running his hands along your thighs, he lets one of his thumbs rest on the hood of your clit, the other lying on one of your outer lips. Slowly, he begins to retract your hood, exposing the smooth pearl within. The other thumb begins to pull you open, exposing your glistening wet entrance. He moans softly as he traces his thumb through your wetness, smearing some on your clit. Gently, he begins to swirl the flat of his thumb over it, making you moan and arch up into him.

He chuckles as he slowly slips his index finger inside you, marveling at how tight, hot and wet you are. “Someone's needy, isn't she?” he teases. “I think you like it when I've got my fingers buried in your pussy...isn't that right?”

“Y...yes, Hunter...” you moan softly, grinding your hips up against his hand in an attempt to get him to start stroking your insides.

“That's my girl,” he whispers, pushing his middle finger inside you, your deep-seated groan of satisfaction bringing a broad grin to his face. He starts to move his fingers in and out, hooking them upward a little so he can touch that beautiful little sensitive spot that always makes you come so hard for him. “You want to come all over my fingers, mésh'la? Or do you want my cock, instead?”

You don't answer him right away, for the feeling of his fingers touching your sweet spot make you moan out his name. Hunter takes one of your breasts in his hand, squeezing gently, before his thumb swirls over your hardened nipple. He leans down and his tongue flicks over it, sending chills down your spine and a pulse of heat in your core. You contract your walls around his fingers, breath catching in his throat.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, suckling lightly on it, causing involuntary contractions that to Hunter, feel like delicate kisses on his fingers. He moans against you, swirling his tongue madly before his teeth close down on you, pulling gently. Your hand runs through his hair and down the back of his neck, cradling him as he releases you and his ravenous mouth searches for yours.

Hunter takes your lower lip gently between his teeth, pulling just a little before licking at it and letting his tongue slip into your mouth, letting it glide over yours. You moan deeply into his mouth as he gives your insides a few loving strokes before pulling them out. As he breaks the kiss, he looks at his fingers that are coated with your creamy juices. Your eyes meet his and he smiles, tracing his wet fingers over your lips.

“I want to watch you suck my fingers clean, cyar'ika. Do it like you're sucking my cock,” he tells you, his voice dropping into a husky whisper.

You comply, opening your mouth slowly as his fingers slip into your mouth. Your hand closes around his wrist as your tongue swirls around them, tasting the salt and tang of your secretions. Hunter moans softly and reaches down to adjust himself through his sleep shorts; he's almost painfully hard right now and wants nothing more than to sink himself balls deep inside you.

Suckling more firmly on his fingers, you start to mimic the motions of giving him a blowjob, your head moving to and fro with vigor. Hunter smirks as you fight to suppress your gag reflex once his fingers are fully in your mouth. With his open hand, he begins to free himself from his shorts, the elegant curvature of his thick length aching for the sanctuary of your pussy. He pulls his fingers out, then leans down to kiss you deeply, the taste of your juices still there.

“That's my good girl,” he whispers into your ear, making you shiver and moan his name once more. “Open up for me, cyaré, and take my cock...you're such a greedy little slut. Isn't that right?”

Hunter aligns himself with your entrance, slowly gliding the head of his cock through your outer lips to pick up your wetness, then lets it slip effortlessly over your swollen clit. A heated cry escapes you and you close your legs around his waist, pulling him forward and coaxing him to enter you. He plants his hands on either side of your shoulders, breathing heavily in anticipation as he parks himself firmly at your entrance.

“Fuck me, Hunter... I'm your greedy little slut,” you plead.

“That's all I wanted to hear, mésh'la.”

His lips press against yours for a heated kiss, tongue easing into your mouth as he begins to slowly push inside you, moving slowly so you can stretch around him. You let out a lusty moan of unbridled pleasure as he seats himself fully inside you. Instinctively, you flex your walls around him, squeezing his cock with everything you can muster. Hunter's head snaps up as you do this, with a primal growl. He closes his hands around your hips as he withdraws his cock until he's almost out of you, and with no warning, he surges forward –

*****

“Ad'íka? Ad'íka, where are you?” Wrecker yells, looking over the sea of grass, trying to spot you. “We're gonna catch hell from Hunter if we can't find her,” he groans. “Oi, Tech! Help me find Y/N. I know she's here somewhere.”

“Wrecker, please calm down. The likelihood of her going far without at least one of us accompanying her is statistically speaking, quite low. I saw Hunter heading back to the Marauder awhile ago, so I assume he likely spoke to her before doing so. I believe I can make an educated guess as to where she may be,” Tech replied.

Tech begins to move off in the direction where he last spotted Hunter, walking slowly and parting the grass as he goes, careful not to make a misstep – or accidentally step on you. He looks around cautiously, trying to look for telltale signs such as places where grass looks unnaturally flattened. The wind picks up and the skies are beginning to cloud over again, threatening to bring more rain, or worse, another storm.

“Wrecker, pack it in and move to my location. The weather is becoming inclement and we need to make it back to the Marauder with haste,” Tech calls.

He's still looking around and finds a patch of the grass that doesn't look quite like the others. Striding with a little more purpose, he's almost to where you're lying, but since he can't get a good visual of what's just beyond the grass, he stops and looks up at the grove of trees that marks the division between the forested area and the field.

“Crosshair, can you give me visual confirmation that I'm close to Y/N?” Thunder booms in the distance and Tech looks to the tree line.

When you and the squad exited the grove, Crosshair stayed back and got himself up into one of the taller trees, closely keeping an eye on all of you. He sighs and looks out upon the field, seeing Tech and Wrecker waving. Luckily, he's up high enough and can easily see that they're right at the edge of where you are, still blissfully wrapped up in your dream about Hunter. He laughs and then they hear him rasp, “she's down there all right, fast asleep. Watch your step. If I were you, I'd wake her gently...looks like she's having one hell of a dream!”

Wrecker looks at Tech with a quizzical look on his face. “How does he know that?”

“I do not know. Maybe by her body language?” Tech postulates.

“Wrap it up, you two. I'm heading back to the ship. Last place I need to be is up in a tree when it starts storming,” Crosshair warns as he starts making his way back to ground level.

Tech plows through the grass once more, and finally comes to a stop where his suspicion is confirmed. Sweeping the grass aside with one arm, he sees you lying on the ground, head resting on your backpack. You're still asleep, and Tech's eyes go wide when he realizes that you have slipped a hand down your pants and are slowly rubbing your clit.

“Did you find her? Is she okay?” Wrecker says lowly as he stands beside Tech. “I...I...yes, I found her all right,” Tech mumbles, feeling his face grow hot. This is something new for him, and he's distinctly uncomfortable, feeling like he's somehow violating your consent by seeing you in such a vulnerable state. “She's...well, I...how do I put this,” Tech stammers.

“Tech, what's the matter with you? What's she doing? Crosshair said she was sleeping, so what's got you all jumpy?” He looks down and sees you touching yourself and his eyes get just as big as Tech's, and he clears his throat, trying not to stare and desperately trying to ignore the fact he feels himself starting to grow hard. “Oh, I see, now. She's, uh...she's...” He's embarrassed, not wanting to say the word.

“Yes, that,” Tech replies, not wanting to say it either. “I am not sure how to approach waking her up. But we have no choice. It is going to start raining shortly and I do not wish to get caught out here if it decides to storm.”

“Let me do it, Tech,” Wrecker offers. He kneels down next to you and very carefully places his hand on your arm. “Ad'íka, he says quietly. “Ad'íka, I need you to wake up, honey, please?”

You groan softly and remove your hand from your pants. Tech coughs nervously and also kneels down at your side. “Y/N, it's time to wake up. A storm is coming and we have to get back to the Marauder quickly.”

“Come on, ad'íka, we'll get you out of here. I just need you to wake up first,” Wrecker tries again.

You slowly open your eyes and blink a few times, trying to focus. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you do know that your dream of Hunter fucking you mercilessly is now hopelessly irretrievable. “Tech? Wrecker? What time is it?” you murmur sleepily, rubbing at your eyes.

“Time to go, honey,” Wrecker says, slipping his huge arm under your back, pulling you up into a sitting position gently. “It's getting ready to storm, and this could be a bad one. Come on, let me help you up. Tech, grab her backpack, would you?”

Wrecker helps you get to your feet, and you let out a mighty yawn. “I'm so sorry, guys... That sunshine felt so good, and you know I haven't been sleeping well lately.” You grimace a little as you feel your lower abdomen beginning to seize up a little. You swear under your breath and Tech's eyes narrow as he studies your features.

“Are you quite all right, Y/N? You look like you're in pain.”

“I'll be all right, Tech. Don't worry about it.” You glance up at the sky and black clouds are building in behind you. Glancing at your chrono, you curse again and take your backpack from Tech. “Yeah, we need to get out of here. I can't believe how late it's gotten, and those thunderheads are looking nasty.”

You begin to feel a few raindrops hit your face, and you shoulder your backpack, wincing as pain shoots through your lower abdomen. What you don't see is Tech's look of deep concern as you start back toward the grove, with Wrecker quickly blazing a trail for you and Tech to follow. The three of you end up making it back to the Marauder in record time, sprinting through a deluge as you leave the relative protection of the grove into the clearing where the ship lies.

“What the hell happened?” Hunter calls from the cockpit. “I thought you would have all been back a few hours ago!”

“I'm sorry, Hunter, it's my fault,” you reply. “I ended up falling asleep and it took Tech and Wrecker awhile to find me.”

“Maybe you need to start carrying a homing beacon with you,” Crosshair interjects, coming around the corner as the three of you get inside the ship. “Wouldn't want you getting lost, or anything,” he says, looking at you with that smug expression you wish you could slap off his face. He lets his gaze linger as he looks you over, and you feel like he's boring holes into you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” you fire back at him.

“Oh...no reason,” he says, and then he winks at you before walking into the cockpit to join Hunter. You look at Tech and Wrecker in disbelief, shaking your head. “What's his problem, anyway?”

“He's always like that, ad'íka. Try not to take it personally,” Wrecker says, frowning.

“I must agree with Wrecker, Y/N. We are used to him always trying to get under our skin. Do not let it get to you.”

Hunter emerges from the cockpit, a little smile on his face as he looks the three of you over. “You all look like drowned womp rats. Go get yourselves cleaned up and then come get something to eat. I managed to trap and kill some kind of larger foraging animal, so we've got some fresh meat, for once. Tech, I might ask you to keep an eye on the radar later. We might be in for a long night with this storm... If it looks like something dangerous is brewing, we'll need to get out of here as fast as possible.”

“Certainly, Hunter. I shall keep you updated.”

“Come on, ad'íka, I'll take your backpack,” Wrecker says quietly, pulling it away from you as he starts walking back to the bunks.

Tech gently touches your shoulder, startling you. “Are you quite all right, Y/N? You do not look well. Would you like assistance returning to your bunk?”

You look up at him, his large, golden brown eyes clearly showing signs of worry. “I'll be honest with you,” you say quietly. “No, I'm not feeling well at all, and yes, I think I'll accept the help, if you don't mind.”

A small smile briefly crosses his face, and he offers his arm to you. You happily accept as more cramping strikes, trying not to audibly groan, but you can't help it. As you get back to the bunks, you can see that Wrecker has carefully put your backpack by your bed. He sees you holding onto Tech's arm and immediately looks concerned.

“Hey, ad'íka, you don't look so good. Is there anything you need?” “Could you take my backpack to the spare bunk, please? Hunter said it would be ready for me by the time I got back. I'm...not feeling well, Wrecker.”

As you mention the term “spare bunk,” Tech turns to look at you, and then it all makes sense to him. “Ah...now I understand. You are not feeling well because you are...” He hesitates to finish his sentence, and he coughs awkwardly.

“It's all right, Tech. You don't need to say it. I think I'm going to grab a quick shower before coming to join you all for dinner. Thank you for helping me today...both of you. I appreciate it.”

As you let go of Tech's arm, he turns to look at Wrecker. “I think we should leave Y/N alone for awhile, Wrecker. Why don't you go see if Hunter needs any help with dinner preparation? I need to speak with Echo and see if he came up with any workarounds we can use for Y/N's research until the new parts arrive.” As Tech turns to leave, he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, concern still etched across his face. You give him a little smile, then nod. He accepts that as the sign to leave, and heads out.

Wrecker picks up your heavy backpack and walks it back to the small room just off the main sleeping area, separated by a floor to ceiling curtain fashioned from an extra blanket. He pushes aside the curtain and gently puts your backpack on the floor. On the way back, you stop him and put your hand on his upper arm. As terrible as you currently feel, you still feel the need to thank him again.

“Thank you again, Wrecker. Both you and Tech have been very kind. I'll come eat after I'm done in the refresher, okay? Maybe a shower might help me feel better.”

“It's nothing, ad'íka. As far as I'm concerned, you're a member of our little family now. We've got your back.”

You chuckle quietly. “Even Crosshair?” you ask, with a hint of suspicion in your voice.

Wrecker stops to think about that for a moment, and with great amusement gives you an honest response. “Yep, even Crosshair.”

*****

The pain in your pelvic floor is steadily growing more intense. As you strip off all your wet gear, you check your panties to see if you've started bleeding yet, and sure enough, there's a few spots of blood. Sighing in annoyance, you throw them on top of the pile of wet clothing, mentally reminding yourself to ask Tech later if there's any kind of good stain removing solvent on board. You see that Hunter was kind enough to leave a stack of clean towels for you, and you suddenly feel irrationally guilty, but then you can't help but smile when you see Wrecker's beloved Lula tucked in the corner of your bunk.

You pick up a towel and wrap it around yourself, grabbing your bag of toiletries as you peek your head around the curtain, making absolutely sure the bunks are cleared out. You don't particularly want most of the guys seeing you like this, and thankfully the path to the refresher is clear. You step in, and crank the hot water. As you wash your hair, you start feeling marginally better, although you're worried about how the rest of the night is going to play out. You finish the rest of your bathing routine quickly, not wanting to make the guys wait too long to have dinner.

When you get back to your bunk, you only want to be as comfortable as possible for the rest of the night, yet still be presentable. Fishing through your clothes to find the special black panties you have specifically for absorbing blood, you slip those on, along with a clean bra and one of your oversized t-shirts that you use for sleeping in. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in a small mirror as you comb out your hair, and you can clearly see you're not well. Dark circles under your eyes, and paler than usual.

“Could be worse,” you say softly as you dig through one of your bags for a small bottle containing painkillers. Tapping two pills into your palm, you down them with a swig of water from your canteen. You look back at the mirror and sigh. “Could be a hell of a lot worse.”

You make your way to the common area where you know you will find the guys waiting for you. They will not eat unless you're present, which you've told them repeatedly they don't need to do, but they still insist upon it. You remember the last time you went through your cycle, there was one night you were too sick to eat anything, and you had spent the entire night in your bunk. Now you truly feel guilty, because that means they all went hungry that night.

You stop in the doorway and see them sitting around the table, laughing and having an animated conversation. This brings a smile to your face, seeing that they're content and happy, despite being stuck on what has truly been a horrible mission. The others don't notice that Hunter turns to look at you standing there. He knew you were coming; he picked up your scent after you left your bunk, the smell of blood teasing his senses.

As your eyes lock on his, you see his expression change from one of acknowledgment to one of definite interest. His dark eyes began to take on a hooded appearance, and you realize what you see there – it's sheer lust. Then it hits you that he knows you've started bleeding, and a twinge of arousal begins to form in the pit of your chest. Hunter raises an eyebrow at you and a sly grin forms, because you've betrayed that you're more than interested, too.

Conversation stops when the rest of the guys notice that Hunter falls silent, and they turn to follow his gaze. You walk slowly toward them, one hand clutching the material of your shirt between your breasts. Glancing over at them, you can see that Wrecker's mouth is hanging open, a look of surprise on his face. You catch Tech's gaze, and he immediately blushes and looks away. Echo, always the gentleman, looks away immediately. Crosshair's usual stony faced visage is replaced by something resembling a combination of surprise and the same kind of interest you saw in Hunter's eyes.

“I'm sorry, guys, I just need to be as comfortable as I can tonight, so please forgive the way I'm dressed,” you say quietly.

“There's nothing to forgive, Y/N. We understand,” Hunter replies, gesturing for you to come and sit. “Hopefully after you eat a little something, it will help take your mind off your discomfort.” Your eyes widen as he says this, because he didn't see you grimacing earlier...how does he know? “Tech and Wrecker told me you were exhibiting clear signs of being in pain. It's nothing to be ashamed of,” he says reassuringly.

“Please, ad'íka, have something to eat,” Wrecker says as he nudges a plate of roasted something at you. “Take whatever you want.”

You look around at the others and they look at you expectantly. It certainly smells good, whatever it is, and you haven't eaten much other than a measly ration bar early this morning. As you pick slices that have the brownest, crispiest skin, you can hear Echo next to you letting out his breath in a large sigh of relief. You pat his arm gently as you start to eat. Whatever this animal is, it's surprisingly tasty.

“This is really good, you guys. It reminds me of boar-wolf meat.” Tech turns to you with a look of rapt interest. “When did you get the opportunity to have boar-wolf? They're supposedly endemic only to Endor.”

You swallow a mouthful of food and grin. “I was part of an expedition to the forest moon of Endor. We were tasked with locating any sentient life with the goal of establishing contact, but ultimately we found nothing. Some of the men decided they wanted fresh food instead of the rations, so they went out hunting and managed to bring down a boar-wolf. That was some fine dining, I tell you. The expedition was a total failure, but spit-roasted boar-wolf was the highlight of that entire trip.”

“Fascinating... Y/N, when you feel up to it, I would like to talk with you further about your trip to Endor, if you don't mind. So little is known about the planet itself, let alone the forest moon.”

“I'd be more than happy to share that information with you, Tech. I have all of my findings backed up on one of my datapads.”

You turn to look at Hunter, and his eyes still have that sultry look to them. You pause a moment before speaking again, because you feel the familiar heat of arousal creeping back between your legs. Your face starts to grow hot just looking at him, as juicier bits of your dream come back to flood your mind. Hunter notes that your scent has drastically changed, your pheromones intermingling with the thick smell of rich blood. He's glad he still has his codpiece on, because it's hiding the fact he's hard as steel underneath it.

“Truly, this is outstanding, Hunter...thank you for all of this.” You look around at the others, and do your best to not betray the fact your insides feel like they're being squeezed half to death. “Dig in, everyone. There's no guarantee we'll get an offering like this again while we're here.”

“You heard Y/N, boys! Let's eat!” Wrecker booms enthusiastically.

The rest of dinner is a rather noisy affair, with a great deal of spirited conversation, bad jokes from Wrecker, a few dirty ones from Crosshair, and plenty of raucous laughter. The others don't see that you and Hunter are constantly exchanging glances, looking at each other progressively longer each time your eyes meet. You can feel yourself beginning to bleed a little more, the intoxicating scent of it starting to dominate his keen senses. Hunter's earlier assumption is correct – it's going to be a long night.

*****

As you lie in your bunk, the screaming of the wind and driving rain against the Marauder's hull does nothing to ease your shattered nerves. The spasms in your pelvic floor escalated during the course of dinner, after which you quickly excused yourself to retreat to the privacy and confines of your bed. You've attempted to distract yourself with one of the many books you brought, but nothing can take your mind off your body tearing itself apart.

The painkillers you took did nothing to abate your misery, and the only thing you wish is to be released from this punishment. You cradle Lula in your arms and curl up into the fetal position; it's not long before you feel the tears slowly roll down your face.

“Make it stop,” you whisper. “For the love of the Maker, just let this be over...”

Time loses all meaning as more waves of acute tightness pass through you. Clutching Lula tighter, you start rolling back and forth as the tears flow faster, and you try to cry as quietly as possible. The intermittent roaring of thunder combined with Wrecker's snoring provides adequate cover, but you're afraid that at some point, you're going to wake someone up. You've shown no weakness to these men the entire time you've been with them, and not about to start by admitting you're crying from pain.

Hunter lies awake in his bunk, restless and overstimulated with the scent of you assailing him. Visions of lying with his head buried between your legs, tongue slipping into you to rapaciously lap up blood dominates his every thought. He shifts uncomfortably as he feels himself starting to grow hard again, and his hand drifts down between his legs to start touching himself through his sleep shorts.

In the dim, cool white glow of the bunks' overhead lights, Hunter looks around the room at his brothers. Confident that they're all sound asleep, he sits up, swinging his feet to the floor. Lifting his head a little, he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. Though the room is filled with natural scents of the others, the one that permeates the air the most is yours – the metallic, iron-rich tang of blood commingled with the unmistakable perfume of female pheromones. He groans quietly as his cock swells, hand sliding into his shorts to start stroking himself.

Hunter stops as he picks up the sound of your distress, feeling compelled to go and check on you. Rising slowly, he makes his way from the bunks down the small hallway to where you lie, sobbing quietly. He stops just outside the doorway, hand on the curtain, rooted to the spot as he listens to you, trying to ignore the incredible redolence of blood emanating from your room.

Pulling the curtain aside, he cautiously enters, seeing you sitting up, arms wrapped around your middle and hunched over as pain wracks your body. He sees that you laid a towel down over your bed, now tinged with deep crimson. So this is why she wanted to be sequestered from the rest of us the last time... You look up at him with blurry, red-rimmed eyes and at first you have no idea who it actually is that's come to check on you.

“Y/N, are you all right?” Hunter says quietly, coming closer. You don't answer, but the slow shaking of your head and the heavy trembling speak volumes. “Mésh'la, talk to me. How bad is it?”

You let go of yourself and rest your hands on the edge of your bed before exhaling sharply, pushing yourself up and onto your feet. Your knees wobble as you take a few steps toward Hunter. As you stop, a fresh wave of cramping tears at your midsection; you let out a cry and bare your teeth at him. Locking your eyes on his, your fingers close around the hem of your nightshirt, not caring if he sees you like this. Hunter's eyes go wide, breath catching in his throat as you begin to pull it up.

“You...want to see? Look at this and...f-f-feel my pain,” you choke out.

As you lift your nightshirt up past your waist, his eyes gravitate lower to see that you're wearing nothing underneath, having shed your panties earlier in the night when you knew they would be useless at being able to catch the flow that was to come. Parting your legs just a little, he sees that your inner thighs are covered in blood, a fresh trail quickly coursing its way down your leg onto the floor. He continues to watch transfixed as a large, thick blood clot oozes out from between your legs, followed by another, unable to fathom how you're tolerating this.

Swallowing hard, Hunter stares as you bring a hand down and run your fingers through your outer lips, coating them before bringing them back to your mouth, where you slip them inside to suck them clean. He can see that blood is smeared under your lower lip, and the urge to taste you is overwhelming. Stepping forward, he reaches out and slowly takes you by your upper arms. You don't flinch as his head dips down, mouth hovering just above yours.

“Mésh'la, is it all right if I taste you?” Hunter whispers, his rapid, shallow breathing hot on your face.

You close your eyes and moan softly as his lips trail across your cheek, stopping short of the patch of coagulating blood. “Yes, Hunter...don't be afraid.”

His tongue trails delicately over you, passing over several times until the blood is gone. The concentrated taste of iron combines with the salt from your skin and tears, creating a potent aphrodisiac for his already overtaxed senses. Hunter releases your arms, then slips one of his around your waist, and the other around your shoulders to pull you close.

As you do the same, you feel his lips brush against yours, and you moan deeply into his mouth as he kisses you, his tongue ardently sparring with yours. He breaks the kiss and your eyes meet his. All you can see is a fierce hunger, and you gasp as he takes one of your hands and plants it on his cock, yearning to break out of his shorts. Without thinking, you begin to massage him through the material, feeling him twitch underneath.

“Let me help you,” Hunter says, before gritting his teeth and moaning quietly as you fondle him. “Do you trust me, ad'íka? You can't go on through the night like this.”

“I'm willing to try anything at this point... I just want it to stop,” you whimper.

“You didn't answer me. Do you trust me? I won't do anything unless I'm absolutely sure you're okay with it.”

You hook your free hand around the back of his neck and pull his head down, pressing your lips to his and slipping your tongue into his mouth. Hunter moans deeply against you and bucks his hips into your hand. You squeeze his cock hard, and this time he lets out a loud groan.

“You're here, aren't you? That means I trust you.”

Letting go of him, you turn around and step back to your bed, pulling off the heavily stained towel. Thankfully, there's plenty of towels, so you grab a few more and lay down a thicker barrier. You turn back to him, and see that he's got a thumb hooked in the waistband of his shorts. The head of his cock peeps out above it, slick with pre-cum. Eyes laden with desire bore into yours as he slides off his shorts, the graceful curvature of his thick length just as remarkable as it had been in your dream.

“Take your nightshirt off, mésh'la,” Hunter commands. “You've already shown me that delicious bloody pussy of yours. Now I want to see the rest.”

Heart beating wildly, you obey, pulling your nightshirt off and casting it to the side. You scarcely have time to breathe before Hunter rushes you, hooking an arm around your waist and slipping the other under one of your legs, not caring he's being painted with blood as he lifts you. He sets you down gently on your bed, spreading your legs with hands that feel like they're wreathed in flame. The flat of one thumb trails lightly through your outer lips before it gently flicks over your clit, eliciting a gasp from you.

“I've never seen anything more beautiful,” Hunter murmurs, trailing a fingertip from your bottom lip in a straight line from your chin down to your pubic mound. “...and I have waited so long to do this.” He looks at you with a wanton grin spreading across his face. “But before I do anything, I need to know that you want this. Trusting me is one thing, but wanting me to do this are two different things.”

You press yourself back against your pillows, stretching out a hand that Hunter readily accepts. “I want this, Hunter... You said you could help me. So help me through this...please...” you implore.

He lets go of your hand and leans over you, bringing his head down just above yours. You moan deeply into his mouth as your lips reconnect with his, feeling your clit pulse as his tongue slips across yours. One of his hands closes around a breast, squeezing tenderly as you begin to arch your body up into him in the silent plea to take you. Hunter breaks away and moves his attention to your neck, alternating between light kisses and gentle licking. As he reaches your pulse point, he nips at your flesh, making you cry out in surprise.

“Shhhh, ad'íka, you want to wake everyone up?” Hunter laughs quietly as he moves to position himself between your legs. “Just relax, Y/N, and remember, if it's too much or something hurts, tell me and I'll stop right away.”

You nod and let out a shaky breath as you look down and see how much blood is already on your lower extremities. Hunter looks up at you with fire in his eyes, and you don't look away when he turns to one of your legs, using the flat of his tongue to lick a wide path through the newest trail of blood from your knee all the way up your thigh. Lifting his head, he lets his tongue hang out of his mouth just a little, and you moan when a single drop of fresh blood drips off the tip.

“You taste so fucking good,” Hunter growls. “I want to find out how luscious that pussy is, mésh'la... Are you ready for me?”

“It's all yours, Hunter,” you moan softly.

He slides his arms under your legs, resting his hands on your hips as his face closes in on his quarry. His eyes close as he breathes you in; blood obfuscates nearly everything, but the essence of your fluctuating pheromones is the undercurrent driving him mad. In a flash, his tongue is slipping between your scarlet folds, licking at the fresh trickle of blood slowly seeping out. A large blood clot finds its way into his mouth, and Hunter moans deeply against you, the vibrations sending chills down your spine.

He lifts his head to look at you, and your eyes widen as you see not a man now, but a beast. Blood is on his nose, lips, and chin – macabre tattooing that complements what he already possesses. Hunter turns his attention to your clit, now sticky with drying blood. Out snakes his tongue, swirling over that tiny seat of all your pleasure, cleaning you off and making you moan his name deeply. Closing his lips around it, he suckles gently, letting the tip of his tongue glide along the underside effortlessly.

“Oh, Maker,” you sigh, “don't stop, Hunter...don't you fucking stop...”

He pulls away briefly, looking up at you with a devilish grin. “I have no intentions of doing so, ad'íka. I'm just getting started...” He shifts positions and sits up, bringing one finger to your entrance, which is already leaking once more. “That's what I want to see,” he says, voice dangerously low. “You're so nice and open now...play with your clit for me while you take my fingers.”

Hunter begins to sink his finger inside you slowly, letting you acclimate to him. As you squeeze your walls around him, his brow furrows and he closes his eyes, groaning as his cock flexes.

He starts to glide his finger in and out, watching as it's coated with hot, fresh blood. Watching as you deftly lick your fingertips, he waits for you to slip your hand down between your legs to start rubbing your clit.

“That's my girl,” he croons softly. “Come undone for me...”

He slides his middle finger in, stifling a moan of his own as reflexively, you constrict your walls down around him. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and let your fingers dance over your clit in tight, concentric circles, a low and perpetual moan pouring out of you. Hunter begins to move his fingers in and out gently, watching you closely for any signs of discomfort. Seeing none, he picks up the pace a little, this time hooking his fingertips up to catch your sweet spot.

Your eyes snap open and meet his as you feel that familiar tingle inside you, breath catching in your throat as Hunter's tender stroking draws you closer to the edge. Faster your fingers swirl around your clit, feeling that delicious heat and pulsation build. He grins at you as he slowly trails his free hand down his body until he closes it around his cock, stroking it in time with the rhythm of his fingers. Your walls tighten around him little by little, and he knows you're not far from your climax.

“So close, Hunter...let me come,” you moan lustily.

“Not just yet, mésh'la,” he chuckles, pulling his fingers out of you abruptly, watching a splatter of blood follow them. He holds his hand up for you to see, blood quickly flowing down his palm and onto his wrist. “On your hands and knees, baby. There's no hiding how much you want my cock... So let me show you what I've been waiting to do to you.”

Slowly, you bring your legs down, stiff from being spread apart for so long. As you get on all fours, you purposely tilt your ass up a little bit in a clear sign you're presenting for him. Hunter licks the dried blood from his mouth and shifts until he's up against you, his cock lying between your outer lips. He begins to rock his hips lightly, slipping through your wet cleft, guiding the head of his cock over your clit, relishing at the sound of a deep moan from you.

Hunter plants his bloodied hand on the back of your neck, dragging a wide maroon path down your spine before leaning down and biting into your shoulder, making you curse in both shock and pain. He curls an arm around your waist as you writhe underneath him, still latched onto your shoulder. After what seems like an eternity, he pulls his mouth off you, smirking as he sees the mark he's left behind. As he straightens up, his strong hands fall upon your ass, kneading the flesh gently.

“Now this is a view I could get used to,” Hunter murmurs as he looks down to see blood beginning to drip out of you again. “Such a messy wet cunt, waiting to take my cock...”

You push your ass back against him, and he closes a hand on one of your hips, the other hand on his cock. He slips once more through your hot, slick folds, running the head of his cock over your clit slowly, sighing happily as you moan his name. Finally, he aligns himself flush against your entrance, his other hand closing around your other hip.

“Here we go, mésh'la,” Hunter says quietly. “I want to savor every moment of this.”

He closes his eyes and exhales slowly as he eases his way inside you, relishing at how tight and wet you are for him. You moan deeply at the intrusion, feeling just how thick his cock is, stretching your walls tightly. Bringing a hand down between your legs, you start to stroke your clit again, letting out a sigh of relief as your fingers glide across it, slick with new blood. Hunter takes this as the sign to continue, inching the rest of his cock inside until you gasp as he presses up against your cervix.

“Shhhh, don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. That's it...work your clit for me. Such a good girl...”

“Fuck me, Hunter...make me come...I need you,” you reply with a heated whisper.

Slowly, he begins to withdraw from you, stopping just before the head of his cock slips out. Looking down, he sees he's fully veiled with blood, thick droplets of it dotting the towels underneath. He runs his tongue over his upper lip and one of his canines, grinning as he threads himself back into you. Your breath comes hard and fast, and you have to stifle a scream as he fills you back up. Fingers swirl over your clit a little faster, and Hunter can feel your pussy fluttering against him; he flexes hard in return and now begins canting his hips into you.

He relaxes the grip on your waist, moving his hands to rest on your ass, his thumbs gently spreading your cheeks apart. You begin to bear down a little as you stroke your clit, relaxing your pelvic floor to accommodate Hunter's meaty girth. Exhaling sharply, you feel his thumb press lightly on your hole – almost curiously – giving pause before he pushes down carefully on it, massaging it as his hips collide with you noisily.

“That's the way, Y/N...” his voice dropping into a husky whisper. “You're doing so well...is this okay?”

“Keep going...I'm all right,” you reassure him. “Don't stop...”

He pulls his cock out just enough for him to wipe blood on his fingers, before pushing back deeply into you, making you gasp and squirm underneath him. Bracing himself with one hand, he leans over you and brings the other to your mouth, running the tips of his fingers over your bottom lip and chin before pushing them into your mouth. You let out a muffled cry, but quickly take to sucking his fingers clean.

“That's it, ad'íka, take my fingers like you are my cock,” Hunter groans.

You contract your walls around him hard as you feel his breath on the back of your neck, then his lips as he kisses your neck and your shoulder, moaning loudly as you give his fingers one last hard suck before he pulls them out. As he straightens once more, his hands return to rest on your ass, and now you feel him withdraw enough to feel the thick, swollen head of his cock spreading your entrance wide.

“Hunter...”

“Breathe, mésh'la...”

A tremendous rush of heat radiates through your pussy as Hunter presses forward and starts to fuck you, this time with no more teasing. His hands move from your ass back to your waist, gripping firmly as each forward surge is replete with a singular purpose. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back as he bucks his hips up harder into you, smacking against your ass at a progressively accelerated pace.

The moans from you both grow unchecked, not caring that you're getting increasingly loud. You start to throw back against him, Hunter letting out a deep growl and loosening his hands from your hips to let you be in control. You move back and forth effortlessly along his cock, feeling him beginning to swell each time your ass claps back against his body, relishing at the way he massages your sweet spot.

He lets out a low moan as you connect with him again, this time stopping to swirl your hips as he bottoms out within you. You lower yourself onto your bed, guiding your hand back down between your legs. Your clit pulses heavily, screaming at you to bring forth the relief you desperately seek. Once more, you swirl your fingers over the hard little nub of flesh, quickly feeling that magical electricity returning.

Blinded by instinct and utterly blood-drunk, Hunter grasps your hips and retakes control. He fucks you hard and fast, hips slamming into your ass and thighs, spurred on by your cries of ecstasy. His cock drives relentlessly into you, slipping past your sweet spot, magnifying the quivering of your walls around him. Stroking your clit in time with each thrust, every nerve ending is alight as you're nearly at your peak.

“Come for me, Y/N,” Hunter groans deeply. “I know you're so close...”

Your moaning crescendos as Hunter slows his pace down, his cock swelling to its maximum. A heaving cry flies out of you as your orgasm breaks, your walls contracting around him wildly. Hunter can't believe the strength of your pussy as you bear down and start to push his cock out. He pulls out of you fully, agape as a gush of blood drenches his hand. Undeterred, he strokes himself hard a few times and doesn't hold back a roar of pleasure as he spills his seed all over your ass and onto your back.

Trembling from exertion and still coasting the waves of your orgasm, you collapse onto your side. Hunter shifts forward and slips his hands under your legs, moving you onto your back. You hold up your hand, marveling at the velvety crimson rolling down your fingers, down your palm, and back onto your wrist. He looks at you and smiles, both of you still breathing heavily and bathed in sweat. Leaning down over you, he reaches for your hand and brings it to his face, pulling it across his cheek, mouth, and chin to mark himself once more.

“Ad'íka, that was incredible,” Hunter murmurs against your palm. “So much more than I ever thought it would be. I need to ask...do you feel any better?”

Thinking for a moment, you realize you long since forgot your pain, as you now bask in the pleasant warmth spreading through your entire body. “I feel like a million Republic credits, Hunter. That was...beyond intense.”

He chuckles softly. “May I ask you for one more thing, Y/N?” He lets go of your hand and moves down to your thighs, trailing his fingertips down them gently, making you shiver. “Can I have one more taste of you? We probably won't get to do this again while we're here, so I'd like to have something to remember this night.”

You smile and nod, slipping your hand down between your legs to spread your folds apart for him. “Take all you want, Hunter. I know I'll never forget this.”

A little sigh of contentment is heard as he dips back between your legs, tongue licking every last bit of flesh, sucking on your outer lips to clean them off. Gently, he licks your still-sensitive clit, making your legs twitch involuntarily. You can't help but moan softly as his tongue probes at your entrance, before slipping in and gathering what he can. As he pulls away, he slips two fingers inside you to glaze them, then draws parallel lines on each of your cheeks and down your chin.

His lips seek out yours and you meet him halfway for a deep, passionate kiss, moaning into his mouth as he lets you have the remainder of the blood he took from you. Hunter pulls away from you and moves your hair out of your face, his dark eyes now full of tender care. He smiles and shifts you over so he can lie next to you, his hand resting on your chest, head next to yours. Putting your hand over his, you close your eyes and exhale deeply.

“Y/N,” Hunter begins, “there's something you should know.” You turn your head to look at him with a quizzical expression. “It's no secret that blood consumption is practiced by many cultures throughout the galaxy. But there's one thing that's considered universally sacred, and that's getting to taste the precious lifeblood from a woman during her cycle. Something to do with honoring women as the ones who bring forth life, and the bonds of family, I guess. Unlike my brothers, I've never gotten to go through the ritual...until now. For that, I'll always be grateful to you.” “Hunter, you don't need to...”

“There's more, ad'íka. Since you have given me the intimate honor of being the one to have you during your time, I want to offer you something, if you would accept it.”

“What would that be?”

“A place here with us... I heard what Wrecker said to you earlier today, about being part of the family. My brothers and I pledged to take care of each other in all circumstances, and I want to extend that covenant to you. What do you say?”

You shift onto your side, reaching to touch his face, your thumb gently caressing the corner of his mouth. His eyes search yours hopefully as he slings his arm around you and pulls you against his chest. “I think I'm going to the be most well-protected scientist in the Republic,” you tell him softly. “Yes, Hunter, I accept... I know you don't offer this to me lightly. I need to thank you for everything...you and the others have made this entire ordeal so much easier to bear.”

Hunter's mouth joins with yours in a surprisingly soft, delicate kiss. You chuckle quietly and curl your arm around his waist as you return the favor, slipping your tongue into his mouth and letting it tussle with his. As he presses his forehead to yours, cradling your head gently in his hand, he whispers, “No, cyar'íka...thank you. Welcome to our family.”

“What are you going to tell the others? Are they going to be okay with this? I'm not concerned about Wrecker, obviously, but –”

“Shhhhh, Y/N, there's no need to worry about anything. They'll understand why. Hell, they've been waiting long enough for me to even do this. There won't be any waiting to tell them, either.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, sounding slightly alarmed. Hunter starts laughing, covering his face with his hands. “We woke everyone up, cyar'íka. They heard everything. There's no point in hiding what we've done.” Your face grows hot with embarrassment as he sits up and moves to the edge of the bed, looking down at you. “I think you and I both need a trip to the refresher...we look like we came from a slaughterhouse. Get up, and I'll lay more clean towels down.”

You rise slowly and look back at the mess you two made, and then you look at Hunter, who looks like something out of a horror film. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and you see the tattooing on your face that he gave you – grisly marks of initiation. Dried blood coats your inner thighs, but it looks like the worst of the bleeding is over. Glancing back at Hunter, he's gathered up all the soiled towels, along with his sleep shorts.

“Come on, Y/N, let's get cleaned up.” You look at your nightshirt that's crumpled up on the floor and move to go put it back on. “Leave it,” Hunter remarks as he peeks out of the doorway and down the short hallway. “If we're lucky, we can make it to the refresher before anyone spots us. If not, then...”

“Then someone's getting an eyeful,” you chuckle dryly. “It's not exactly the end of the world if the others see me naked. I guess in time, it's bound to happen, anyway.”

Hunter steps out into the dimly lit hall with you close behind him. Quietly, you approach the junction leading to the refresher, catching a shadow of someone coming toward you. Crosshair stops and leans up against the wall, arms crossed with a distinctly irked expression on his lean face.

“Pfffft....couldn't even be bothered to put your damn clothes back on, could you? Nice job waking us up!” he gripes. “You were going at it like two banthas on glitterstim and I didn't think it was possible, but you even managed to wake up Wrecker!”

“Crosshair, shut the fuck up and keep your voice down,” Hunter snarls. “Cyar'íka, with me. It's all right.”

“Cyar'íka? Hunter, what are you talking about?”

You gather your courage and step out from behind Hunter, his hand closing on your shoulder protectively. Crosshair gets a good look at you and Hunter now, eyes wide, his sleep-addled mind not entirely comprehending what he's seeing. His face grows hot as he stares at you first, dried blood caked on much of your body, your hair disheveled. Seeing all the blood smeared on Hunter's face, he covers his mouth with his hand and starts laughing quietly.

“What's so goddamn funny, you smug prick?” you snap angrily.

“Y/N, don't. I think I know what this is about. There's no need to get upset,” Hunter says, squeezing your shoulder gently.

Crosshair composes himself and coughs before looking at Hunter with soft amusement. “So, you finally went through with it, Hunter. Congratulations... We took bets ages ago as to how long it would take you to get the job done...if I'm not mistaken, I believe Tech has now earned himself quite a few credits. Jokes aside, I can see you took things to a far higher level than the rest of us ever did, but for what it's worth, ner vod, I'm proud of you, truly. I have to ask, though...what's with calling Y/N cyar'íka? I'm missing something, here.”

Hunter's hand leaves your shoulder, trailing down your spine before his arm comes around your waist loosely, holding you close to him. “She gave me something incredibly sacred, and in return I offered her something just as sacrosanct – a place in this family. You know what that means, Crosshair, and you know I didn't offer this lightly.”

Crosshair turns to you, this time his expression changing from amusement to one of solemnity. You could swear he almost looks guilty, as if he's feeling remorse for being rude to you on numerous occasions. “If he's offered that to you, Y/N, then...” He trails off, looking down at the floor, resting a hand on the back of his head.

“Then what?” you ask gently.

He looks back at you and exhales sharply. “Then I accept you too...ad'íka. Is it too late to apologize for not being exactly kind to you? For that, I was wrong. Forgive me.”

“No, Crosshair, it isn't too late. And...thank you. It's an honor to be welcomed into this family...an honor that will never be forgotten.”

“Good. Now do us all a favor and get your asses in the refresher. You reek of blood and sex, and frankly, it's a little insulting,” Crosshair laughs just as Hunter steps forward and shoves the blood stained towels into his arms.

“Just for that, you go ask Tech for that special enzymatic cleaner he has,” Hunter growls, taking your hand gently in his, turning in the direction of the refresher.

You wait until you're out of Crosshair's earshot before finding your voice. “Is it always going to be like that with him?” you ask curiously.

Hunter sighs as he opens the door to the refresher, then laughs quietly. “I'm afraid so. I did enjoy seeing you rip into him, however. He needs to learn a little humility, anyway.” As the door closes behind you, Hunter cranks on the shower. He turns toward you with a seductive grin, beckoning for you to join him. “Let me test a theory, mésh'la, that it's going be just as much fun getting you clean as it was getting you absolutely filthy.”

As you step under the blissfully hot water, Hunter's arms close around you, one hand wandering down to squeeze your ass as his lips touch yours for a particularly deep, sensuous kiss. You feel his cock stirring to life once more, twitching against your stomach.

Welcome to the family, indeed...

*****

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

[audreyscribes]

What powers would you give to a child of Rhea?

Oooof, I’ve been thinking about this for a while so here we go!

[LONG TEXT POST BELOW!!!]

Let’s just start off who Rhea is. Her name means “Flow; Ease” and she’s the Titan mother of the gods, goddess of female fertility, motherhood, and generation. Being Kronos’ wife and with her name, she represents the flow of time and generations, alongside with the flow of menstrual blood, birth waters, and milk. She was also the goddess of comfort and ease, and is considered also the Titaness of Protection and Blessing. 

So first and foremost, a child of Rhea would have her ability to induce serenity; as the Titaness of Comfort and Ease, her demigod child would be able to emit feelings of tranquility. This can happen by either an actual power or be inherent personality, seen in Hestia, where they just exude comfort and ease, giving an aura of warmth, comfort, safety, and so forth. Regardless, just because its comfort and ease, personality-wise it doesn’t have to come off as something quiet and composed (though it can very much be). Their personality can be something gruff and tough, but  there is comfort and ease behind a strong persona, like a heavy weighed blanket. 

Though being a demigod, the caveat is that as a power, it can only be attuned if they practice the act of comfort and ease. Something like achieving Inner Peace but with Comfort and Ease. The best way I can put into perspective is like the child of Rhea already exudes comfort and ease but their aura leaks out much like a leaky tap. Only when they come into their power can they let the power of Comfort and Ease flow out of them like getting the stuck tap to flow. Once that’s achieved, I can also imagine their power being used to force their opponents to not fight, in a sense where a child of Hypnos just makes their enemy fall asleep kind of deal, getting their opponents or target to lose their desire to fight. In a better situation, it can be used to keep the peace and ensure communication is exchanged with words and not fists; which if they were at Camp, this would be used so many ways. In most situations, people are drawn to them to just feel at peace.

However, this power is not necessary a good thing to have on all the time. While Comfort and Ease are good things, it is a passive thing and things cannot always be passive. They will have to learn or be forced to allow things to happen and it is inevitable that people will fight one way or another because it is required and there are reasons to fight and be active in. 

Other than that, I can see the child of Rhea picking up the skills to invoke protection and blessings, stuff like having a safe journey, to be healthy, and etc. It’s not powerful and permanent as a god+ blessing, but being a demi-titan?demigod? Of Rhea has some power. Another power they would have is to heal, possibly their speciality in “Curing”; especially harder to heal afflictions, reflecting how Rhea cured Dionysus of madness casted by Hera. I can see the child of Rhea spending most of their time at the Apollo cabin.  There is also the minor perk of being able to befriend felines because Rhea and her lions. Obviously if the child of Rhea has contact with lions, they have their own pride of Lions by their side.

Y’know what their ultimate power is though? Being able to talk back to the First Major 6 Gods and direct children of Rhea, with no consequences (except Hestia, she is their favourite half-sister and reminds them the most of Rhea). Not because they have this power of immunity, but its solely because they’re their half-sibling, and by sibling rite, they are the youngest and able to annoy them and call them out. Of course they shouldn’t nor wouldn’t insult them to their face and blatantly disrespect them, because Rhea raised them better than this but when Zeus is trying to leverage his power as King, you’re allowed to call him out on his pettiness of power.

The direct children of Rhea can’t really do anything because that’s their half-sibling and Rhea would give them the ultimate “I’m not angry, I’m disappointed” which is far more effective than anything. It’s also a bonus they act very much like Rhea so it's really hard to justify doing anything to them; even by Demigod standards. And in turn the child of Rhea treats them like family, albeit with the whole being a demigod and whatnot.  Thus a revolving door of gods asking for them to join them and gaining little favours and payment. Hermes, Apollo, Athena, Ares, Hephaestus, etc. Heck even Zeus has asked politely to come to appeal Hera, and vise-versa.  

[inkwingsinc]

ok so about my lack of update. I got sidetracked writing about the nightmare horse (!!!!spoiler!!!!) and the other flesh gifts Feyd is going to give Laera. Harkonnen giftgiving traditions are atrocious, I've decided. Also I've re-written chap 21 like three times and I'm pretty sure some of my readers will unionize to beat my ass if I don't post eventually. ~tee hee~

Here, have some random headcanons related to BMGWMBGG because I'm deranged:

the Harkonnen tradition of offering "flesh gifts" to the bride is essentially the manifestation of that one post that's like "my love language is acts of service and all I know how to do is kill"

given that Geidi Prime has to pump groundwater since the planet has no oceans and little rainfall, there are likely thermal pools/natural springs somewhere in the Fortress. They function like bath houses, essentially. Feyd-Rautha visits them frequently.

the Harkonnen tradition of draping their brides in betrothal chains came from the practice of having to physically restrain their wives because uhhhhh they did not often consent to marriage. Now the chains are just brutally pretty jewelry, but in ye olden days Harkonnens would kidnap their brides caveman style

the ceremonial lyggal warpaint is mixed with human blood. often the wearer's

Harkonnen men totally get married half-naked covered in warpaint. How else is the bride supposed to take her blood rite if he's all covered up? :(

Geidi Prime has a renowned rave scene. Party drugs? Evil techno? That's basically Tuesday for the upper classes

Despite keeping appearance of the contrary, Feyd-Rautha is not a hedonist with all pleasures. He holds himself to the standard of a warrior and forces purity of mind and body so that he can feel superior to others. Baby boi deffo has an eating disorder and like six different hangups about eating in front of others. Violence is his chief vice but sex is a close second, so he's not a monk all the time...

Feyd-Rautha thinks it's just so charming that women have a menstrual cycle. oh his partner lifts her skirt? and she's already bleeding? it's like Christmas came twice.

Feyd-Rautha has met Princess Irulan on two occasions prior to Arrakis. He was buck-ass naked during their first meeting (I will not explain) and covered in blood for their second. The Baron offered Feyd as a marriage prospect to the Emperor's daughter both times. "isn't my nephew strong? isn't he capable? wouldn't you like to give him children?" *gestures to the horrible little man covered in blood*

Feyd-Rautha is freaked out by horses. It's the spindly legs...

Feyd-Rautha's favorite food is nutrient paste. I am not joking

[justabrowncoatedwench]

Alternative gods that aren't Shar to turn to in times of sadness & mourning:

Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead

Jergal, the Final Scribe, servant of Kelemvor (Withers, maybe)

The Raven Queen, Goddess of Death/Dying (collector of memories & strong emotion, esp dealing with loss & sadness) - lesser known deity, largely worshipped by shadar-kai

Loviatar, the Maiden of Pain (a way to externalize internal pain)

Talona, Lady of Poison (worshiped by survivors of pestilence)

Myrkul, quasi-deity re power level, serves Kelemvor (oversees old age, among other pieces of his portfolio)

And that's just deities who also have Death as a cleric domain. This is just talking about broad Faerunian deities, most races also have their own pantheons, with their own deities they'd turn to in different situations. The majority of people in Faerun aren't solely worshiping a single deity, they worship deities within the situations & circumstances that that deity has jurisdiction over.

Deities of human/broad pantheon(s) who aren't Shar that you might turn to in a time of grief, sadness, or loss:

Chauntea, the Great Mother (OG nature goddess, these days goddess of agriculture & how civilization interacts w nature)

Selûne, the Moonmaiden (viwed as cyclical, & esp worshipped by human women during their menstrual cycles for example)

Ilmater, the Crying God (portfolio is endurance, suffering, martyrdom, perseverance)

Lathander, Morninglord, Lord of Birth & Renewal (the death rites are actually pretty neat imo)

Umberlee, Goddess of Oceans (for deaths at sea)

Etc etc etc

Basically, if a person has a deity they favor, every church/organization is going to have death & mourning rites. The majority of people aren't going to be turning from their other deities to seek succor at Shar's door just because they're mourning or sad; the kind of loss, and the solution Sharrans offer, is the way you'd rather forget what made you happy so you don't have to feel the pain of having lost it. That's what comfort Shar & her clerics offer.

[haggishlyhagging]

Lipstick, then, may be considered the first cosmetic: "Among the Dieri and other Australian tribes, menstruating women were marked with red paint round the mouth, while among the tribes of Victoria a menstruating woman is painted red from the waist up. Among Tapuga tribes of Brazil and on the Gold Coast of Africa, she is also painted red." Among the Cheyenne, at her first menstruation a girl was painted red all over her body and secluded for four days in a special little lodge. In China, formerly, a woman customarily put a red mark in the middle of her forehead to signal that she was menstruating, and also as a cosmetic.

Pregnancy, childbirth, and nursing were also special states designated with red paint. The Kaffir and many other tribal women painted their bodies with red ocher when they were pregnant. Pregnancy and childbirth are numinous phases of life, but it was because of the creative/decreative powers specifically accruing to women's blood that the use of red signaling during pregnancy and lactation gave women enormous powers of restraint over men and the spacing of childbearing. In some tribes, by using paint women might signal "no sex" for six or seven years at a time, while they continued nursing. More usual was the period of three years used by Nigerian women of the eighteenth century, who kept their bodies smeared with red earth throughout the entire period as a public announcement that they were bearing, nursing, or weaning a child.

One meaning of the blood signals was surely reassurance: "It's safe to look at me now," or "I'm old enough to bleed, but I'm not doing it right now," or "Now I'm available for sex or marriage." Among other peoples the red marks meant danger, keep away, not sexually available at this time: "Don't look at me." Mouth marking and paint was a display not only of the female power to bleed, but of a range of complex signals meaning "come here" or "stay away".

All the earliest cosmetics—menstrual blood, slashed blood, and tattoos of blue or red lines suggestive of blood on the face—must have enabled women to free themselves from some of the severest world-forming taboos. Most of the complex taboos would have remained intact in the initial major rite of menarche, but more minor ones would mark all the menstrual periods after the first. Western reporters noticed that the strict seclusions of the menstruant were being replaced in the nineteenth century by milder menstrual signals, such as a brightly colored scarf, face paint, a special apron or ring, or even a smoking pipe clenched in her teeth.

Whole peoples in older times studied the color red through body use. Some completely painted their bodies red (the "Red Clay People" of the eastern United States). They tattooed themselves from head to foot (Scotland, Canada, Borneo). They plastered their hair with ocher and grease, with thick red clay (South America, Africa), or stained their teeth red (Southeast Asia, South Pacific, South America), or painted and dyed their hair, hands, and feet with henna (India, Middle East, North Africa, Europe). Even now, when menstrual rite has largely vanished, women continue to paint their cheeks and lips red to impart vitality, health, sexual desirability, and self respect.

-Judy Grahn, Blood, Bread, and Roses: How Menstruation Created the World

[aldhidbah]

A mythological and Pop culture run down of Ammit and her associations. (Based on my experience with her)

(art credit to Jeff Simpson)

Ammit: Crocodile headed goddess of death and the scales of justice / Truth

Associations: Associated with Entropy, Death, Spirit Work, Justice, Afterlife Rites, Protection, Vengeance.

Appearance: her usual depiction, her moon knight depiction and then she has a human form to me that resembles isis

Symbol: Scales of Justice/ Truth

Animal associations: Salt water crocodiles, Nile crocodiles, (crocodiles in general), Alligators, Lions, Hippos.

Colors: Gold,  Greens, Browns, Yellows and Oranges (Ties to Sekhmet)

Titles: Lady of the Duat, Bringer of Justice, Eater of Hearts/ Man

Insense:  Jasmine, Dragons Blood, Myrrh

Other offerings: Salt water, Sand meat and bread based foods- traditional, dark red wines or nonalcholic colored drinks (needs to be red or red is preferred), menstrual blood, obsidian stones, blood stones, moonstones

Herbs: Hibiscus, Rose, (anything associated with death and or protection)

Tarot Card: Judgment, The Star. 

Note: Ammit, like Sekhmet is balanced out with Anubis or Tarweret. 

Worked with at any period that is a transition: i.e. new moon into full moon ect.

(so like any period of the moon just starting to enter a new moon or full moon phase of thats confusing- riiiight when it's almost a new moon or full moon but not quite)

Note 2.0: I personally use her Funko pop for a figurine and she seems to absolutely love it

Update: October 2023: actual organ offerings such as beef or chicken hearts are acceptable, blood magic/ offerings are acceptable (only if you have an understanding of the pros and cons of such magic and it is a practice you are comfortable with)

[lilflowerpot]

I was wondering as a child of teenage pregnancy what would that be like in the galran empire and if its even possible for galrans to get pregnant durring their teenage years. And if it is possible what would the discussion around that be like and what are the resources for the parents and chlid. And if it isnt how would they react to the fact humans as young as 14 can get pregnat.

Sorry if this make u uncomfortable and u dont have to answer. I just rarely even see the topic talked about in general and got curious.

Aging & Lifespans | Pregnancy & Children | Galra Fertility | Q'tskraal

Infancy: 0–13 idp Childhood: 14–38 idp Adolescence: 39–63 idp Young Adult: 64–139 idp Older Adult: 140–229 idp Elder: 230–280 idp

The above illustrates the broad strokes of different galra life stages, though for this question we're obviously focusing on adolescence. So galra adolescence (and therefore puberty) occurs between the ages of 39–63 imperial decaphoebs, with female galra typically reaching reproductive maturity a little later than their male counterparts; the absolute youngest a female galra could likely conceive would be around 50idp (the human equivalent of 14y), but remember that galra pregnancy is high-risk enough as it is, and even more so if the host's body is not yet fully grown. Then, of course, there's that monestrous fertility cycle to consider: unlike humans, whose menstrual cycle occurs year-round, female galra only experience a single phoeb of fertility per decaphoeb, meaning that an accidental pregnancy is infinitely less likely to occur.

All that being said, it is still possible for an adolescent galra to find themselves with child.

I here want to address the particular relevance of my Q'tskraal post, as there is technically a small overlap of 4idp between the youngest one could be when they succeed in the galra rite of passage (and therefore are considered an adult in Imperial society), and those last few decaphoebs of adolescence: if someone of 61idp who had passed their Q'tskraal were to fall pregnant, this would not be considered a "teenage pregnancy" by Imperial standards! In contrast, however, you could have someone who is 72idp and technically better equipped biologically to carry a pregnancy, but has not yet passed their Q'tskraal and so is still deemed a child themselves.

But I digress.

As I've said countless times before, the galra foster a collectivist culture, and so the very first social instinct would be for the entire local community to rally around the expectant parent(s) to provide them with all the emotional and practical support they could require—including unequivocal love if the pregnant galra decides they would like/need to terminate the pregnancy altogether. I thought I'd addressed the topic of abortion before (though if I did I cannot for find it for the life of me) but essentially, though Imperial culture puts great value on children, a foetus is not yet that: ever more important and therefore the priority is the bodily autonomy and right of the host parent to make their own damn decisions. In particularly dangerous cases, abortion may in fact be heavily recommended, if to proceed with the pregnancy is likely to result in fatality, but again,,, this decision is utterly at the discretion of the individual in question.

In the modern Empire, there is a third choice beyond those of child-pregnancy vs abortion: gestation pods! These serve as an artificial controlled environment within which a foetus can be carefully monitored and supplied with all the necessary nutrients it might require—the only caveat being that if a pregnancy is being transferred from a biological womb into this artificial one (rather than having been fostered within the gestation pod from the beginning as an intentional form of surrogacy) then the foetus must be transferred before the placenta takes over the transfer of nutrients to the embryo (at the end of the first quarter of the pregnancy), as at this point it has become entirely reliant on its host body for survival.

If, however, the pregnant galra decides they neither wish to abort nor transfer their pregnancy—or if it is too late for the latter—then every care would be taken by both their family and medical services to keep them as comfortable as possible; they'd likely be relocated to a local medical facility where they could be carefully monitored for the full duration of the pregnancy so as to minimise the associated danger, and all being well both they and the resultant kiting would end the experience hale and healthy. After this point, neither they nor their child would be treated especially differently from any other new family: the Imperial government would still grant them the allotted child support, while the local community would assist in child-rearing just as they do in all things.

The only thing that would induce a resoundingly negative reaction would be if one of the parents had passed their Q'tskraal while the other hadn't... unless conception had occurred prior to the Q'tskraal (in which case both parties were still legally children) this would be considered predatory behaviour on the part of the adult galra, even if the two are of the same age.

[wibbley-wobble]

I think the fact that Grunt doesn’t know what the Rite of Passage is is sooooo funny. Warlord Okeer gave his ultimate krogan creation intricate knowledge of how to best kill, multiple textbooks worth of historical information, and his same sense of superiority over other krogan but forgot to tell him about his upcoming menstrual cycle. Was the plan to slowly guide him into the intricate processes and procedures around a krogan period and the following krogan puberty milestones? Because if so, why did he give him the other information that Okeer could have guided him with?

I have a solution to this potential plot hole in the making: Okeer had krogan autism.

[fiendishlywitchy]

do you know any wiccan/dianic literature that focuses on women's relationship with food/weight/body-image and in general is there any sort of wiccan/witchcraft/dianic literature that you think can help me overcome my eating disorder? i feel like the usual ''therapy'' and social media body positivity stuff just doesn't work on me. i need something like a mantra and a personal belief or even personal rituals to keep me from my eating disorder and only the rare times i adopt something akin to it does it help me not obsess over food and not have unhealthy relationship with food.

Hmm thats actually a good question Anon! Love your lady Landscape comes by Lisa Lister comes to mind as it is a book that teaches you to connect with your body in a more Holistic fashion; there is more of a focus on periods/ a side of sexuality from what I've researched about the book, but does claim to speak about how to become embodied in yourself winch seem to be mostly what you're looking for. I do know that eating disorders can cause disruptions in your menstrual period and otherwise harm that aspect of Feminine Help, so if you feel an issue in that department I'd sincerely recommend picking it up

Non Wiccan but I did see The Beauty Myth being advised frequently among rad circles as something that helped some Gyns i knew personally dispelling some myths about the worth of patriarchal beauty standards. It may be worth looking into as a way to unpack some of the societal conditioning that does no service to your condition.

I'd encourage you to look into A Goddess you'd want to tap into and embody and make your own mantra to aid you whenever your ED flairs up as well. A number of Dianic Go to Books such as Ariadne's thread, Spiral Dance and Women's Rites and Women's Mysteries can help you carve out the best solutions spiritually and magically for your condition. If you're interested in the Greek Pantheon, Goddess in Everywoman by Jean Shinoda Bolen can be of great assistance and a gateway of how The Goddesses tend to appear in our Psyche and Shape us.

The Divine Feminine Handbook Vol I by Marilyn Pabon talks explicitly about Holistic/ Intuitive eating and overcoming self doubt; during my research into books that could possibly help you this part stood out to me most.

If you're comfortable you can reach out to me any time you'd like Anon! I'm no stranger to a distorted view of my own body even if I have no ED and I sympathize with your plight sincerely.

)0(

[youwouldntlietopapa]

First Impressions - Chapter 2

Rating: 18+

Features: Secondo x OC (Ophelia)

Tags: developing relationship, crush at first sight, brothers being brothers

(Also available on AO3)

____________________________________________________

In the weeks that followed the meeting, it would have been more than fair to call Secondo distracted. Which was unusual for him. Unusual and uncomfortable. But he didn’t seem able to help himself. The headstrong Sister occupied every thought that he didn’t keep a tight hold on. Every time his mind wandered, it wandered back to her. The minor rush of chaos after she’d walked out of the meeting. The dozen emails he’d dealt with afterward. The hint of a smile and the fire in her eyes when she’d looked at him. 

He silently chastised himself again. It was foolishness. At best. A weakness was more like it. To let someone, anyone, consume his thoughts so completely after what could barely be called an introduction. She was one sibling among many. One woman among even more. He knew this without a doubt, he’d taken many of them into his bed. Why should this one be anything more? It was nothing he couldn’t master. Nothing that couldn’t be solved with one night to get it out of his system. And yet…

Weeks. It had been weeks. He hadn’t managed anything more than developing some rather embarrassing new habits. Wandering the grounds at lunch because he’d noticed she preferred to eat out there. Looking in on Choir practice as if it had ever been a priority before. Spending an ever increasing amount of time in the library, browsing the shelves that provided a view of her office. He didn’t need anyone to point out to him that his behaviour was verging on unhinged. Like some giant creep who was, by nature, as far from inconspicuous as a person could get. But when had his younger brother ever needed to be asked for his input?

“You are in here again??” Terzo said, too loudly for the quiet space. 

Secondo hissed in annoyance and moved further behind the shelf between him and her office door. “It is the library, idiota! Keep your voice down.”

He dropped his voice into a stage whisper that, frankly, wasn’t much better than his usual volume. “Oh so now we are quiet and spending all our time in here? Since when?”

“You think I am not allowed to come find my own books?” Secondo snapped back. 

“Allowed? Si. Willing? No.” Terzo smirked and looked over the shelf he was standing next to, plucking out a book and holding it up. “Rites and Rituals of the Blood Moon: Witchcraft of the womb and menstrual cycle? If this is your plans for her, I think maybe you take her to dinner first, fratello. Seems only polite.”

He grabbed the book from his little brother and smacked him with it. “Se hai qualcosa da dire, dillo e basta. Basta con queste sciocchezze.”

“What is there to say?” Terzo rubbed his arm where the book caught him. “I am not blind and you are not stupid. You follow her around like a… well not like the puppy. You are not so cute. Like a terrifying shadow. Standing outside her office, trying to look like you need a book so bad. Every day. For days.”

“You exaggerate.” He grunted unconvincingly. 

It was his turn to smack Secondo. “Since when are you so afraid to ask, ah?”

“I am not afraid!” 

“Oh, si? So you just act like a stalker as a new hobby?” He nodded toward Ophelia’s half open office door. “Maybe I ask her out first, since you don’t.”

Secondo’s expression hardened and he drew himself up to his full height, glaring down at his brother. “Farai quello che vuoi, come sempre, Terzo. La vuoi così tanto, prendila. Ce ne sono altri. Molti altri.” He growled deeply and pushed past him, storming out in a swirl of robes and anger. 

Terzo watched him go, a half formed apology dying on his tongue. It was a delicate balance, pushing him out of his comfort zone or getting him to confront his feelings. And Terzo, admittedly, wasn’t much of a delicate touch with those things. Still, the guilt twisted in his stomach, wondering if he’d managed to spoil the entire thing. He glanced back over at the new Sibling that had his brother so twisted in knots and sighed, weighing the chances that he’d end up dead if he meddled. 

At least Primo would protect him. Probably. 

Ophelia looked up from her work when he knocked, moving to stand when she saw who it was, but he waved for her to keep her seat. “How can I be of service, Papa?” She asked calmly. 

“Oh no, no. I don’t come here for business, Sorella. Only I realise there is a new sibling here, one who is very experienced in the Ministry. And I am failing in my duties to make her welcome.” He tsk-ed and shook his head, dropping into the chair across from her dramatically. “I don’t even introduce myself properly or ask your name.”

She stared back at him looking amused, even if she was holding back. “I can assure you, Papa Terzo, you need no introduction. Your reputation far exceeds you.”

He couldn’t help looking pleased with himself taking it as a great compliment. “Ah, but you don’t tell me your name, Sorella.”

“Ophelia.” She offered her hand. 

Terzo took it more delicately than the shake she’d offered, turning her hand to kiss it. “A pleasure, Ophelia. I hear you make an impression with Seestor when they offer to make you Imperatrix. And with my brother. I hope he is not the one who puts you off the idea. Usually I am the one for those meetings, but he says yes first this time.”

She chuckled softly and tactfully retrieved her hand. “No, not at all. I was very honoured he took the time from his day.” Her expression turned a bit suspicious. “Have you come to try and change my mind, Papa?”

“No! No, no, no. Nothing like this. On my life, Sorella.” He held up his hands in surrender. “The decision is yours and, if you don’t mind, I say it is impressive to say no when everyone is watching. Most people? They can’t do it. They crumble when the spotlight is on. Perhaps you teach me your tricks, ah? I am terrible at saying no.”

Her look stayed suspicious even as a smirk crept onto her lips. “So I have been told.”

Terzo blinked at her for a long moment, not quite sure he’d heard correctly. But no. No, he had definitely heard her. All at once, he tipped his head back and laughed. “I see now why Seestor doesn’t like you!”

“I suspect she has many reasons.” 

He waved away the comment like a fly. “That one has a list for all of us. I am near the top, I know. Consider it a badge of honour. She hates the best.”

Ophelia considered him for a moment, looking him over in a way that he wasn’t accustomed to. As if she could read him like a book. It was an odd position to be in but he tried to keep a calm expression. 

“May I be candid, Papa?”

“Of course.” He put on his best charming smile. 

“Are you trying to make a move? I don’t like to presume but, as I said, reputation.” Ophelia was blunt but not unkind. 

Terzo opened his mouth to reject the very idea, and then closed it immediately. Secondo, he thought, is doomed. “Can you blame me, Sorella?” 

“That depends.”

“On what?”

That amused look washed over her features again. “Are you doing it just to wind up your brother?”

“My….?” He paused. Satanas, she was a hard one. If not for Secondo, he might have tried his own luck sincerely. “Not just.” Terzo admitted. 

“Oh?”

He sighed and dropped the game, sitting back in his chair and eyeing her just as shrewdly. “You see him watching, si?”

“The tallest man in the Abbey, in his robes and paints, following me around at a distance?” She chuckled. “He would be very hard to miss.”

“But you don’t say anything to him?”

“It seemed impolite to interrupt him. Besides, all things come in their own time and I get the impression he’s not one to appreciate being hurried.” Ophelia said earnestly. “Is this to try and force his hand?”

“Maybe. A bit.” He had the good sense to look a little ashamed. “More I think… that I really don’t introduce myself properly when you come here. I don’t make the effort to meet you. And my brother is… he is a difficult man. But he is fragile. And if you tell him I say this, I deny it.”

She nodded and held up a hand. “My word, your secrets are safe with me.”

Terzo stared at her, weighing his options and how much he should say. He was probably a dead man anyway, if Secondo ever found out. “I don’t remember ever seeing him like this. I think maybe I should worry. But he won’t listen, no matter what I say, so I think to talk to you. Make sure you don’t take advantage. That this is not some kind of game you play with him.” He shrugged. “He is a pain in my ass, but he is my brother.”

Ophelia stared back, giving equal weight to her words. “I don’t play games. Certainly not like that. Certainly not with him.”

There was nothing in her tone that left any room for doubt. He nodded once sharply, content with her answer. “Maybe it is you I need to warn in that case.”

“Warn?” Her eyebrow quirked up. 

“I tell you, he is a difficult man, my brother. And not easier because he is interested.” He smirked without any real humour. “Maybe worse because he is interested.”

For the first time since he’d sat down, her eyes drifted away from him. Focused on nothing. Her expression settled into something more pensive. “Are you trying to force his hand or run me off, Papa?”

“No.” He said gently. “Only I know him better than anyone, I think. And I know he is bad at wanting. Worse at having. Terrible at keeping. I try to keep him safe, but you need also to know before you walk face first into that wall.”

Ophelia looked back at him. “He’s very lucky to have someone like you on his side.” 

Terzo snorted. “Maybe you tell him this, ah? I don’t think he believes it from me.”

“Well, if you’ve gone to this much effort on his behalf, I can only think he must be worth the trouble. And I will keep what you’ve said in mind.” She considered him again and, again, he felt uncomfortably seen. “Posso chiederti come mai eri così sicuro che fossi interessato a ricambiare?”

He blinked at her a few times, not anticipating the switch. “Ho sbagliato?”

She chuckled softly. “No.”

“Non sono poi così male nel leggere le persone, sorella. Oltretutto lavori negli archivi. Pensavo fossi bravo a maneggiare cose vecchie, danneggiate e fragili.”

Ophelia tipped her head back and laughed in a refreshingly unaffected way. “Se questo è un tentativo di ottenere riparazioni gratuite, ti faccio pagare per il lavoro nascosto, Papa."

“Oh no, Sorella.” He assured with a wink. “I don’t think all the glue and tape in the world is enough to fix this antique. We only try to maintain.” 

“Conservation it is.” 

“I do ask one favour.” Terzo looked at her seriously. 

She nodded once. “How may I be of service, Papa?”

“Don’t tell him I talk to you. I prefer not to die like that.”

“You have my word.”

Terzo caught her hand once more, kissing it, careful to avoid leaving his paints on her skin. “Grazie, Sorella. Sono in debito con te.”

With that, he stood and slipped back out of her office. Leaving Ophelia staring at his empty chair, wondering what in all the depths of hell she’d gotten herself into.

____________________________________________________

“Se hai qualcosa da dire, dillo e basta. Basta con queste sciocchezze.” = If you have something to say, just say it. Enough of this foolishness.

“Farai quello che vuoi, come sempre, Terzo. La vuoi così tanto, prendila. Ce ne sono altri. Molti altri.” = You will do what you want, as always, Terzo. You want her so bad, take her. There are others. Many others.

“Posso chiederti come mai eri così sicuro che fossi interessato a ricambiare?” = Can I ask why you were so sure that I was interested in reciprocating?

“Ho sbagliato?” = Was I wrong?

“Non sono poi così male nel leggere le persone, sorella. Oltretutto lavori negli archivi. Pensavo fossi bravo a maneggiare cose vecchie, danneggiate e fragili.” = I'm not too bad at reading people, Sister. Besides, you work in the archives. I thought you'd be good at handling old, damaged, fragile things.

“Se questo è un tentativo di ottenere riparazioni gratuite, ti faccio pagare per il lavoro nascosto, Papa." = If this is an attempt to get free repairs, I charge for under the table work, Papa.

“Grazie, Sorella. Sono in debito con te.” = Thank you, Sister. I am in your debt.