#which is a rod ive made for my own back i know i know. but! moral ocd intrusive thoughts go brrrrrr)
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unfortunately i am still an introvert after all this time so even if i have a really gratifying and positive interaction with someone outside of my comfort zone i will feel the need to weep afterwards from the stress of it all
#thunder rambles#two good seminars today.... had good convos with my friends in both...... made good contributions to both classes#and i just had a long long conversation with my seminar leader after class as we were walking out the building#its just. AAAAAAAAAAAAA. because i dont usually do that#(and also part of me is always worried about interacting with my male seminar leaders bc i dont want to appear too enthusiastic. in case#they think im coming onto them. but i am an enthusiastic person by nature and i cant help it#and this isnt based on any previous bad experience with teachers its literally just. ocd#im like what if he thinks im trying to bootlick! what if other people think that! what if he takes it as reciprocity and comes onto *me*?!#which is a rod ive made for my own back i know i know. but! moral ocd intrusive thoughts go brrrrrr)#also ~putting myself out there~ on tuesday led to me throwing up in my bathroom so like. im still relearning that its okay to step out of#my comfort zone LMFAO#not all of it will have bad consequences. grrrr#ocd tag
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Been conceptualizing a minecraft modpack of my own, heavily inspired by Raspberry Flavoured (which imo is peak minecraft rn but thats besides the point) but, something im always caught up on, when it comes to progression and amount of content, is...
the item loss system. I know i've talked about it before, but let me walk you through some thoughts ive had: So, keeping in mind I want to use a gravestone-like mod for keeping items on death
"Oh, enchanting tables working with chiseled bookshelves! So once you find an enchanted book, you can just access that enchant pretty easily forever! I love that. I think I want reusable armor trims, too. Since I don't like having to duplicate them with diamonds" Ah, but... that doesn't quite fit with keeping your items on death... because then, its almost TOO easy, being TOO nice. whats the point of being able to trim more armors, if you're not gonna ever lose your armor? and... also, I think delving more into perma-progression like blocks that allow you new recipes, to quickly get back to where you were in terms of gear you lost... is a really fun direction! So lets go with losing items again! But ah! Now... I do have the fun reusable enchanting system, and I even get cooler progression! But certain items REALLY suck to lose now... like tridents, or anything made with echo shards. Because they aren't renewable. Any special reward / incentive that really has deep one-of-a-kindness to it like that... is a massive pain to lose. Don't want to be THAT cruel so, okay, fine. no item loss. you keep your stuff. but ... that makes resource progression less interesting. Who cares about diamonds anymore when you just need a few here and there to repair your tools? Or to duplicate an armor trim? Plus, what to do with enchanting..."
so, caught between a rock and a hard place. I'm unsure if I'd want to keep all my items on death if it meant I'd have to gather diamonds for freakin armor trim duplication lmao. I think I'd rather have an entire progression system designed around getting stuff back. I guess its just like, you want to put the permanence either into the item loss / lack of item loss system, or into the item gain system. Not both - that'd be too much Gain without much Need for many things I think, as I see minecraft clearly going the route of designing incentives around NOT losing items, and clearly eventually having something closer to keepinventory on by default... I'd rather design something ELSE! and so yknow what? incentives can just be... renewable!! or reusable!! yes, you can lose things. but you'll get em back easily! an armor trim, you just make new armor and trim it easy peasy, no needing to get a new trim. you have plenty of Steel from having gained access to the Nether now ! so. could make the mace just need a breeze rod and some iron. so it still is gated to trial chambers... but, put more emphasis on its enchants for its power level and, more things could be Stuff you Place Down. since you cant actually lose those! unlike items you keep on you! ...but then, if i go with this, that might mean i get way less cool modded content to really feasibly play with. a cool rare mob that drops a cool rare helmet? Well that just doesnt work.. so i have to pick between cool helmets and rare trinkets you wouldnt wanna lose... or a cool engaging enchanting and gear progression system! Bwah! I'm sure theres a middleground but. That sounds like the MOST headache inducing one, for ME anyways. to design.
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Christmas Glee!!!
Thank you for the tag @oonajaeadira my love ❤️
1. What’s your favorite Christmas song?
Oh man, trying to pick just one is so hard!! I love Christmas and Christmas music, but I’d have to say A Holly Jolly Christmas has always been a song that makes me instantly happy every time I hear it.
2. What holiday movie do you have to watch during the season?
I mean, Muppet Christmas Carol, obviously. Not just the best Christmas movie, but absolute peak cinema. 100/10, no notes.
But my other favorite Christmas movie that no one knows about and is criminally under appreciated is Eloise at Christmastime. It was one of those made-for-ABCFamily movies back in the early 2000s, and stars Julie Andrews as Eloise’s nanny?!? Literally the perfect cozy Christmas movie.
3. Post a pic of your tree or any decor inside or out, doesn't even have to be from your *house. ☃️🎁
*Anything that has brought a smile to your face this holiday season that you feel comfortable posting.
We can’t have a tree because our cat would eat/destroy it, but I have a series of wooden Santa carvings my grandpa, who I’ve always been incredibly close with, made for me when I was little that I put out on our windowsill. He hasn’t carved in a long time because of his arthritis, but he was so talented! And sometimes he would let me paint them. Can you tell which one he painted and which one eight-year-old Leslie did? 😉


The second one is meant to have candy canes hanging from the rod. Anyway these carvings are some of the most precious things I own and it always makes me happy to look at them!
Idk who has done this yet or not but tagging @lowlights @moonlitbirdie @magpie-to-the-morning and anyone else who wants to!
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oh boy it's star trek update time. friday night we did ds9's "the begotten" (ohio edition) and voy's "coda" (ohio edition), and last night we did voy's "blood fever" (ohio edition) and ds9's "for the uniform" (ohio edition). (ohio edition is when i watch the episodes like normal but i'm in ohio.)
the begotten (ds9) (ohio edition):
BOOOOOO dr mora BOOOOO
i dislike that both plots with dr mora have involved with odo forgiving him in some small way...it's especially silly since the first dr mora episode had odo semi-forgive him and then in this episode go right back to hating him and then. forgive him again. ok.
it also rings false when dr mora is like yeah it WAS shady but i was under pressure from the cardassians and it was for your own good! vs damn when i realized you were a real person i felt bad about shocking you. like he literally SAID "spoil the rod spare the child" and odo was like "yeah good point" fuck off?? that's different from what he said and how he felt five minutes ago???
that said, i thought the ending was extremely touching. odo's child loving him enough to give him back his abilities WAH. AND!!! i loved how odo got to talk about how much he liked being a changeling and what it meant to him and how he would have liked to have been treated
i also liked the b-plot, aside from shakaar, who i felt was pretty petty and jealous for no reason?? i almost forget kira is seeing him bc we see and hear so little about him. but her missing the baby even though it's not hers is the complex kind of thing i love from ds9
coda (voy) (ohio edition):
so, this was billed to me by imdb as "janeway and chakotay are in a timeloop where she always dies at the end." and the first...15 minutes? was kinda that. and i enjoyed what we got of that immensely. mystery spot but it's your lover who you made a bathtub for once. except they only looped like 3 times
i loved the cpr. chakotay holding janeway's body and sobbing. mwah. immensely rewarding for the me community. what the hell was the rest of that
honestly? tng kinda did this concept better. the like "what if the afterlife is real" concept and then it wasn't that they were dead. like i hate to say that but ro laren did kinda do this better
i like janeway better as a CHARACTER but the PLOT was totally nonsensical. i still don't even know how much of that really happened and how much was her hallucinations. i'm choosing to believe the cpr was real though. and the crying
it was nice getting her dead dad backstory i guess but the whole episode felt very like...sloppily written? thrown together? unfollowable? i really want a timeloop episode :( add "jc timeloop but for real" to the list of fic i'll never write
blood fever (voy) (ohio edition):
I LOOOOVED THIS ONE
i was so nervous bc ive loved vorik since he was in tng and him giving b'elanna his pon farr sounded sexist and bad for both of them. ADDED TO THE FACT that tom paris my beloathed was bound to be involved
but you know what. rights for tom paris i think. i really hope this is a trend and not a fluke because i actually very deeply enjoyed tom paris in this episode
i would have never forgiven him if he fucked her BUT HE DIDN'T FUCK HER. i read there was a lot of improvisation involved in this ep and also that garak's actor directed which probably has something to do with like. how good it was. like i was so worried the whole timje tom paris would fuck her because i was worried about HER and then by the end i was also WORRIED ABOUT TOM PARIS. like was this consensual for HIM (no)
equally, i love how uncomfortable vorik and tuvok were with each other. i would have thought it was just the opposite but then when it happened that was i was like wow of COURSE thats how itd be. like just so masterful all the way around
i even liked their little talk at the end. i thought tom paris was very respectful and tactful which is normally not his forte. like. tom paris good. can he be good all the time please
for the uniform (ds9) (ohio edition):
this one was...fine? i didn't like the constant "javier" coming from eddington and i like even less that sisko played into it with only a few weird looks from worf and kira and zero "what the fuck"s from dax.
i also don't understand the point of the holophone. i would never use one of those
i did like nog doing the relays - i like him so much. and even though leaving on a busted ship was silly i thought it was impressive how they made it work on even less than the bare minimum
i just think sisko going darkside wasn't given enough weight, or they acted like it was fake, when he really did poison that planet? and i thought the constant book comparisons were a little silly and tng like. we literally did get lily calling picard ahab in first contact, and i liked that better than i liked this
NEXT TIME: voy's "unity" (ohio edition) and ds9's "in purgatory's shadow" (ohio edition)
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I am a girl, Antigone. I have a sister. We love Each other terribly.
Robyn Schiff
You would think that the two Athenians’ bodies Were poised on wings, and poised on wings they were, Philomela flying off to the woods As a nightingale, and Procne as a swallow Rising up to the eaves.
Ovid, trans. Stanley Lombardo i.
My sister tells me she is a bird. She does not say she is a bird
but I know it to be true. She wheels and dives. Her pinions swoop.
Somewhere, moss and toothwort carpet the wood floor. Somewhere:
generations of birds are born.
ii.
The nest of eggs. The shed in the woods. The foxy
gentleman and the lupines around Jemimah.
Her feathered desire. Into this story Beatrice
poured her sympathy like tea in a china cup.
The hounds lick up the broken eggs.
iii.
My sister tells me and my memory
is clean, an empty stair though she says
I walked up them, opened the door.
That I called my father
at work. What is this? This
nothing in my brain –
this blank day – my life had stood
a loaded gun.
iv.
If you slammed a door too hard
in my family’s house a rifle would fall
from the top of the wooden buffet—
a gun always seemed to be falling.
It never went off.
v.
My other sister’s harm, I remember— another bird in the rafters—
anger on my body like a fine dust on Mars, in my lungs;
anger where the stairs met hardwood hallway,
entryway rugs, the stairs still carpeted, not yet creaking.
My pacifying mother. My other, younger sister.
vi.
I want an otherworldly ex- planation for unkindness which
is the milk of this world.
vii.
Anger is different than rage. Rage: a hurricane that makes
the whole world wet. Anger: directed at another
person like the sharpness of a scalpel; acknowledging
a person the way a wing acknowledges a buffet of air:
by flying into it. The way wing makes power of a draft—rides it.
viii.
The confusion is one of having nothing. The confusion is
I have two sisters, whom I love. They have hands and tongues.
But we three sisters have different memories, speckled and striped.
Facets of a stone. Points on a shell.
ix.
I don’t mean to go on long, to go on with longing—
like a pilgrim with a distance still to go, and a burden on their back—
but at one time all three of us were flannelled and nightgowned,
on the couch together. The moon lit. The cedars filling the night.
Happy. Laughing. Last century.
x.
Sometimes something has to be a wing, a joint and tendon: a
wooden spoon, a dowel rod, wax— as many feathers as you can pluck
with your own two hands from a bird that only two minutes ago ran through
the clover on its yellow, spurred feet.
xi.
For each thing given to you, make one thing up. For every name
told, recite a new name. For each received story with a man making
a woman, build your own person out of feathers and flowers.
Daedalus, Pygmalion: let them go.
xii.
Arachne asks you to come and sit. Never mind her many legs. Move over.
Gossamer silk, the spider’s throwing line, has the filament strength of alloyed
steel. Arachne will teach you nothing. You teach her how to spin a tale so long
she can climb down the end and jump.
xiii.
It will always matter that you are a woman. Or that someone
saw you as one (or not one) in the past, sees you as one (or not one) in the present,
future. That bird is slang for a woman, as well as any “man made object”
(aircraft, rocket, satellite) that resembles a bird by flying, being aloft.
That “the bird” is an obscene gesture; your finger practically raises itself.
xiv.
* * * *
My sisters tell me I am a bird
HANNAH VANDERHART
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i dont remember if i mentioned it before but i decided to join the thieves guild after all

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i forgot all about this cool grave in the riften graveyard that looked Significant and i never figured out why BUT TURNS OUT IT’S THE THIEVES GUILD SECRET ENTRANCE. WHICH IS COOL AS SHIT. and also seems extremely obvious in hindsight. even if most people in skyrim don’t know shadowmarks and don’t recognize the thieves guild symbol, The Single Most Conspicuous Grave in the whole graveyard, which doesn’t appear to actually contain any real grave, and the whole thing like. slides open very loudly when you activate it. how does no one see us going in and out from here. isn’t anyone curious what this grave is for. has no one pressed the button out of curiosity and gotten in here by accident
i know i as the player can’t interact with it until i know about it but in-universe it should still work even if you don’t know what it is

the what
Who Are You
apparently i saved this guy from the thalmor at some point lmao i have no idea when that happened

there’s some papers very conspicuously hidden under an end table next to one of the beds in the guild hq and i cannot figure out any way to interact with them, its driving me out of my mind it HAS to mean something but i can’t see it

what. im the dark brotherhood why havent i been informed of this
i still dont think the guild realizes im the leader of the dark brotherhood lmfao i dont exactly have an option to like. tell them. i mean, delvin knows, but

sapphire is glover’s daughter???
i love being in the thieves guild im learning all kinds of things about people
i should have made the connection sooner that... glover mallory. delvin mallory. of course they’re brothers. but i didnt notice and didn’t know the shadowmarks yet, so

i dont remember what i was doing here. this might’ve been honeyglow estate or whatever its called? i dont know. i was infiltrating a place to steal something and this guy was just like. hiding in his room in the corner. he didn’t see me bc im a stealth master at this point so i dunno what he would have done if he had seen me but like. you okay there man

SPIDER CONTROL ROD????

look at it... a baby....
i actually ended up doing this section like 8 times reloading a save bc A) ive been playing the thieves guild missions as like “kill as few people as possible/try to not be seen at all” as a personal challenge and because they keep saying “we dont kill people thats not how we work” so im tryin to follow the thieves code here but i kept fucking it up and anyway i could NOT figure out how to use the spider without getting it murdered in like 3 seconds. i wanted to take the spider control rod and have a spider friend but it seems like the only thing you can do is make it run to its death immediately so i ultimately ended up just leaving it there :’<
maybe one day i will go back for it just to own the Spider Control Rod if nothing else. i dont even remember what i was doing in here in the first place i know i was stealing Something Important
i still feel bad about betraying calcelmo hes my friend but like, i dont think he knows i was the one who broke in here

would love to know why theres so much blood here in his secret dwarf research lab or whatever this was, but

who threw an entire coin purse in this fountain. do you not know how tossing coins in fountains works
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14 - Mount Weather
Summary: Y/n finds herself in a new place, becoming suspicious of it and it’s motives very quickly. Clarke shares the same suspicion, and both become weary about the safety of the people that didn’t make it into the dropship.
Word Count: 3.90k
Based Off: 02x01, “The 48”

Your eyes fluttered open to an all white room, the brightness stinging your eyes. You closed them tightly again and put your hand over them to block out some of the light, adjusting your eyes to see what was in the room. You sat up in the bed, noticing that you were clean and no longer caked with dirt and blood. Your clothes had been changed, and there was no pain or knife protruding from your backside.
The room was all white. The sheets, walls, floors, couch, and door were the same shade. However, the only thing that was different was the painting hung up on the wall. It was one of the paintings you recognized from art class as the very famous painting of Napoleon Crossing the Alps. You looked at the painting for a few seconds longer before moving to the door, which had a window showing you the hallway.
The thing that had caught your attention was the sign on the opposite wall, which read “Mount Weather quarantine ward”. You looked at the door opposite to you to see the window was empty, but it looked like someone was in there because of the messed up pillows on the bed.
As the memories of the previous night flooded back to you, you began to panic. Bellamy and Finn were gone, possibly dead, and whoever brought you here fixed your stab wound and possibly took the others as well. You couldn’t see any of the other 100, and the thought reached you that you were the only one left.
If there really was no one from the Ark left alive and you were the only one, how was everything going to go after this? How were you going to get out of wherever you were and live without the grounders attempting to kill you at every turn?
Everything blurred and you felt tears filling your eyes as you stumbled, pressing yourself against the nearest wall and sliding down it, gripping your hair, which was no longer in braids, and attempting to control this raging panic attack with no one to help you. Your breaths came out shakily and your eyes remained squeezed shut, forcing yourself to think the exact opposite of what you just were in order to get your mind to stop racing.
You felt time slipping away as you stayed there, before the rage of being all alone and without information took over. You slammed your hands on the floor and pushed yourself up onto your feet, breathing heavily.
You grabbed the first object you could, that being the IV drip, and throwing whatever bags were on it at the door, the saline spilling down it and pooling on the floor. Then you kicked the tray of medical supplies over, the instruments clattering to the floor loudly, and you made swift movements to the room separator, throwing it to the ground, listening to the loud clunk it made when it hit the linoleum floor.
In the small break of silence you faintly heard glass shattering, but chose to ignore it. You grabbed the pole that the IV bags were hanging off of and ran to the door, shattering the window as your feet stepped in the puddle of saline at the door. You hit the doorknob multiple times, to the point where both the metal rod and the doorknob were dented.
You moved back, taking a running start at the door, trying to ram it open with the IV pole. You, however, slipped in the saline and glass puddle as you were running, causing you to knock all of the air out of your lungs when you fell over, and feel the familiar ripping of stitches; along with a brand new horizontal cut on your forearm, near the scar Murphy gave you, from a large shard of glass that you landed on.
The IV pole in your hands fell on top of you as you fell, hitting you on the forehead and blurring your vision, as well as sending a dull throb through your head. You watched the bright room grow dimmer, your vision fading back into black as you passed out. Again.

You woke back up in a different room, one that wasn’t white. You tried to cover your eyes with your hand to block out the light as they adjusted, but your hands were restricted.
“Y/n?” You heard Clarke’s voice.”Y/n wake up!”
You opened your eyes and saw that you couldn’t move your hands because they were tied down, one restraint just barely overlapping with a bandage they put on for your new cut. You looked to your left to see Clarke sitting on the bed next to you, also restrained, but sitting up.
You did the best you could to do the same, the restraints holding you back. You heard the door hiss open on your right, watching as two guards, a woman in a lab coat, an older man, and a girl came in, along with another guard.
“Hello, Clarke,” The woman greeted. “How’s your arm?”
Clarke didn’t say anything in response. The woman took a glance at you to see you also awake. “Hello, Y/n, I see you’re awake, too. How are you feeling?”
You did the same as Clarke and just stared at the woman.
“They’re not very talkative, are they?” She commented.
“A skill they picked up from the savages, no doubt.” The elderly man said. “Maya has something to say to Clarke first anyway.”
The girl that came in with the rest of them looked up at Clarke, almost scared of her. “You were the next one to be cleared through quarantine. Another 10 minutes and you would’ve-” She was cut off by the older man clearing his throat.
“And then it was supposed to be her.” She looked at you for a second and then turned back to Clarke. “I’m not pressing charges.” “Thank you, Maya.” The old man said. “You can get your treatment now.”
The doctor directed Maya to a bed and the older man looked to the guards. “Restraints aren’t necessary. On either of them.”
One guard came to untie you and the other went to Clarke. Once the restraints were off, you came to sit at the edge of the bed like Clarke.
“Dante Wallace,” He introduced himself to Clarke, extending a hand for her to shake. She grabbed it to inspect the black smudges on his hand.
“Oil paint,” He said. “That’s right. You’re an artist too.”
Clarke stood up and asked him who told him that.
“Your people.” He said. “They also said you and Y/n here were their leaders.” You stood up and went to stand beside Clarke.
“Looks like you two and I have a lot in common, kiddos.” You looked apprehensively to Clarke, who looked back at you the same way.
“Where’s my watch?” Clarke asked. It was then that you noticed the cool metal of your locket wasn’t present on your chest.
“And my locket?” You asked. “What did you do with it?”
“I’m sorry, but we can’t let contaminated items inside Mount Weather. We couldn’t risk it.” He told you. “Our protocol is very strict. We prioritize safety over sentimentality.”
“That was the only thing I had left of my mother! The only picture of her and my father are both in there you asshole!” You started to get angry again, but Clarke’s assuring yet sad eyes stopped you from going any further.
“How many of us did you capture?” Clarke asked, pulling her eyes away from the machine that Maya was hooked up to. You kept your gaze on it, too, curious.
“48, including both of you. But, Clarke, you’ve got it wrong. You’re not prisoners. We saved you.” Dante assured her.
“Well, in that case, you won’t mind if we leave.” You said. “If there are 48 of us here, we still have people out there.”
“The patrol brought in everyone they could find,” Dante told you.
“What about the Ark? I saw it come down last night.” Clarke asked.
“We saw it,” Dante said. “There were multiple crash sites over 100 square miles. If there were survivors, we will bring them in, too. You have my word.”
“We want to see our people.” Clarke decided.
“Of course, you do. I would too.” Dante motioned for two guards behind him to roll forward a crate, opening it to reveal an array of clothing and jewellery. You and Clarke marvelled at the sight as Dante spoke again.
“Change and meet me in the hall.” He and the guards left the room, leaving you and Clarke to choose what clothing suited you.
She chose a pink shirt with a turquoise sports jacket over it and some blue pants that didn’t quite reach the bottom of her calf, along with some simple sneakers. You, however, grabbed a white shirt and some black leggings, with a jacket that was similar to Clarke’s but was black instead of her turquoise and running shoes similar to hers.
She ran her fingers along the shoes before she put hers on, picking up a pair of heels and handing one to you. You followed her actions by snapping off the heel and slipping it underneath your jacket sleeve, ready to use when needed.
You pushed open the door and saw Dante waiting for the both of you with about 4 guards standing by. The room was very noisy as you walked up to him.
“Sorry about the noise!” He yelled as you started walking. “Hydroelectric power from the Philpott dam. Fresh water from our own underground reservoir.”
“Fresh food from our hydroponic farm,” He said.
“I don’t understand,” Clarke shook her head. “You’re on the ground, you know it’s survivable. Why would you stay here?”
“It’s not survivable for us,” Dante told you.
“The grounders seem to have managed.” You said.
“Natural selection works,” Dante replied. “The grounders who couldn’t survive in the radiation didn’t. Those who could passed on their DNA. For better or for worse, here, we never went through that process.”
“Well, neither did we,” Clarke said. “We’ve been on the ground now for…”
“Solar radiation.” You continued her sentence, coming to the same realization.
“Very good.” Dante smiled. “Your DNA ran the same gauntlet as the grounders. Only because radiation levels in space are even higher, your ability to metabolize that radiation is even stronger.”
You stopped at an elevator and waited for it to come up, Dante still speaking to you and Clarke. “Truth be told, our scientists were blown away with the efficiency of your systems. If not for that, your friends would still be upstairs in quarantine.”
“I have a question,” You said. Dante looked at you and nodded for you to continue. “I wasn’t with the others. I was near the front gate with a knife sticking out of my back. How did I end up here?”
“Well,” Dante responded. “Our patrol found you outside the gate not long after we got there and bought you in with them. And it was a good thing that we did, too. You were almost dead when you got here.”
You nodded and the elevator doors creaked open, Dante allowing you and Clarke to enter the elevator. You both entered hesitantly, watching Dante as the doors began to close. Dante stopped them and held out his hand.
“First, give me the heels.” You looked at Clarke in shock, but reluctantly pulled the heel from your sleeve, pressing it into Dante’s palm with Clarke.
“You’re not fighting for your life anymore, girls. You’ve made it. Welcome to Mount Weather.” The elevator doors closed and brought you both to level 5, the guards escorting you. Clarke began to walk towards the small crowd, where you heard a woman talking.
“Your packet contains everything you need to know about Mount Weather, which I promise isn’t as confusing as the map on page one makes it out to look. You came from level 3, which houses our medical facility including…”
The woman's voice was drowned by your Monty’s, saying yours and Clarke’s name. He ran towards you and enveloped Clarke in a hug, while Jasper came to you.
“I thought you were dead,” He whispered. Once they both let go of you, you hugged Monty and Jasper hugged Clarke, the other delinquents coming to greet you.
“Finn?” Clarke asked.
“And Bellamy?” You asked.
“Y/n they uh… they didn’t make it.” Jasper whispered.
“We don’t know that,” Clarke assured everyone. “What about Raven?”
The silence was enough of an answer, the crowd breaking to let the woman you heard before come to meet you.
“Welcome Clarke, Y/n.” She greeted you. “If you have any questions, I’m Keenan.”
She handed you both packets and walked away with a smile. Your head was spinning. You didn’t know what to think, what to do. Things felt weird around here and you just wanted to go back to the dropship.
Clarke opened up the packet and looked at the map. You took a glance at it from her packet, not bothered to open your own, the map confusing you.

Later in the day, you were back in the dining hall for lunch, which was the best food you’d ever eaten. While the food was nice, you were still on edge about Mount Weather. Something seemed off. You sat next to Monty as he and Jasper ate dessert, Jasper offering his pie to Monty to try some.
“My turn,” Jasper said, pointing to the cake on Monty’s plate.
“This? Nah. You won’t like it. The pie is way better.” Monty brushed Jasper off and you giggled under your breath, knowing he was keeping it to himself because he didn’t want Jasper to have any. Jasper eyed Monty’s plate and tried to take it, but Monty was quicker.
“Really?” He asked and Monty nodded, fighting a smile.
They both stood up, dishes clattering, ready to fight for the chocolate cake. Monty moved to the left and Jasper copied, then they both moved to the right and stopped abruptly, seeing Clarke approach the table.
“Hey, Clarke,” Jasper greeted.
“Sit down and pretend you’re happy to see me.” She whispered, sitting down next to Jasper.
“We are happy to see you,” Monty told her, mouth full of chocolate cake.He offered some to Clarke and you laughed as your brother put on a look of fake betrayal.
“I’m not eating their food.” Clarke told him, her eyes on Dante at the head table. She pulled out her packet and showed the map to the three of you.
“Look,” She said. “They gave us a map with no exits. I need you to tell me everything you’ve seen. Every room, every hallway, every way out.”
“Way out?” Jasper asked. “Look around you, Clarke. There’s no one hunting us here. First time in our lives we’re not hungry. Why would we want to leave?”
“Because we have friends out there who need our help.”
“They’re looking for survivors,” Monty assured her. “And they’re way better equipped to find them than we are.”
“I think she’s right,” You jumped in. “This place, it’s too good to be true. I don’t trust it.”
“You guys are bumming me out. I’m-- I’m gonna get more cake.” Jasper laughed lightly and took his plate as he stood up, making his way to the dessert table.
You watched him interact with the girl that Clarke attacked earlier, a smile making its way to your face. Clarke watched him, too, an idea springing to her head. She took her packet and looked at you, motioning her head for you to follow her. You both stood up and walked over to Maya and Jasper.
“Hey,” Clarke put her packet on the table. “It’s Maya, right? I just wanted to say sorry, for this morning. I was scared and worried about my friends; I hope you can understand that.”
Maya smiled and nodded, still anxious to be around Clarke, who picked up her packet and walked away, the both of you smiling at Jasper and Maya beforehand. Clarke discreetly revealed that she had swiped Maya’s keycard when she left, slipping it in her pocket.
Not long after you left, alarms started blaring throughout the white hallway you were walking down, bright yellow lights flashing at the door behind you.
“Not a prisoner, huh?” Clarke muttered as you both took off down the hall.
You came to an intersection, looking to your left to see armed guards running towards you, and even more coming from your right. You kept running straight, zig zagging to throw off the guards, until you reached a rusty door. Clarke swiped Maya’s card on the keypad and you helped her pull open the door, slipping inside and pulling it shut.
You looked around and were met with stairs going up and down, you starting to go up as Clarke disabled the keypads and followed after you. You stopped at the first level, opening the door and coming to a stop at the beginning of a hallway. There was a large, round door at the end of it, and you and Clarke ran to it.
She tried pulling the lever beside it, but to no avail. She smacked the concrete wall in front of her and you looked at the door, seeing a hatch on it. You both moved to it and began to turn it, hearing a loud clunk after a few turns.
Clarke moved back to the lever and you put a hand on it as well. Just as you were about to pull it and open the door, Jasper and Maya stopped you.
“Clarke, no!” Jasper yelled. “If you pull that lever, these people will die. Even a little radiation could kill them.”
“Don’t make me shoot you,” Maya said, shakily holding a gun up to the both of you.
“Wait,” Jasper said, standing in front of Maya with his hands out, walking up to you and Clarke. “Don’t do this.”
“I don’t believe them,” Clarke shook her head.
“Why would they lie?” Jasper asked. “Listen to me. We are safe here. Because of you guys, we’re safe.”
“Not all of us,” You said.
“I’m the one that fired the rockets, should I not have done that?” Jasper asked. “Clarke, when you pulled that lever, you saved lives. Don’t throw that away by pulling this one.”
You and Clarke let go of the lever, sniffling and trying to prevent the tears from escaping your eyes. Bellamy was out there, he was out there with Finn, and you couldn’t get to him. The guards came barrelling in, Jasper raising his hands and moved to the side to let the guards through.
You put up no fight as they shoved you to the ground along with Clarke to handcuff you. Two guards guided Clarke down the halls, while another two guided you, a hand on each elbow as they brought you into Dante’s office.
“Lose the handcuffs,” He instructed the guards as he painted. “There’s a blank canvas if you’d like,” He offered to Clarke, who shook her head.
“I used to paint the ground, too.” Clarke told Dante.
“It’s not just the ground,” He said. “It’s a memory.”
“You’ve been outside?” You asked curiously.
“Yes. 56 years ago, for 5 minutes.” He said. “I was 7 when the first of what we call the outsiders appeared. Before that, we thought we were all there was. Imagine our surprise.”
“We don’t have to imagine,” Clarke replied.
“My father- this was his office at the time- believed it meant that the earth was survivable again, and so he opened the doors.” He recalled. “Within a week, 54 people were dead from the exposure. My mother and sister among them.”
He turned to put his paint brushes and pallet away, facing the both of you. “Loss… pain, regret. Time eases these things, girls, but the only time it’s ever truly gone is when I’m painting.”
He took off his jacket and placed it on the chair as Clarke looked around. “You didn’t bring us here to talk about painting, did you?”
“I’m afraid I have bad news.” He stopped on the other side of his paint cart. “Our patrols have swept the area and found no evidence of survivors, either at the camp or from the Ark.”
“How can they be sure?” You asked, shaking your head.
“They can’t,” Dante replied. “I’ve ordered them to keep searching.”
“We need to see for ourselves.” Clarke demanded.
“I’m sorry, I can’t allow that.” Dante denied. “I’m doing this for your own good, girls. It’s not safe out there.”
“Radiation has no effect on us. “ Clarke rebutted.
“It’s not the radiation I’m concerned about,” Dante motioned for the guards to come back in. “You need time to grieve. These men will show you to your room.”
“And if we try to leave?” You asked.
“Please don’t test me, girls.” Dante said.
Sighing, you turned and followed after Clarke, who left the room just before you. You tried not to think about the patrols not finding any survivors, but there was nothing you could do but that. The silent walk to the bedroom tore you apart on the inside as your thoughts collected and got worse and worse by the minute.
Soon after you were brought back to the room where the rest of the 48 were sleeping, you were brought back to the dining hall for dinner. Everyone stood at the table and joined hands, you between Clarke and Jasper as everyone said a prayer.
“For the past and the future we serve,” Dante said.
“We give thanks.” The room replied.
“Good health, good food, and good company. And the blessing of new friends.”
“We give thanks.” Everyone sat down to eat, digging into a wonderful beef stew. The thoughts of Bellamy and Finn loomed in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away and focused on talking with Jasper and eating.
Afterwards, back in the shared room, you sat on a bunk with Harper, who talked about how amazing everything was in here. “They have actually tasteful food, here, Y/n! I mean, the clothes could be a little nicer but I’m not complaining.”
You nodded absentmindedly, and Harper caught on. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I am, it’s just…” You trailed off.
“Bellamy?”
“Yeah. It’s worrying me that I don’t know where he is, or if he’s even alive, I just-- I need to know if he’s okay.” You ranted. “And these people haven’t found anything yet but I need to go look for myself but they won’t let me.”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Harper put a hand on your arm. “He’s Bellamy, the guy can survive anything. You will see him again, Y/n. But for now, we need to get some sleep.”
You smiled at Harper and gave her a hug. “Thanks for that, Harper. I needed it.”
You got up from her bottom bunk and climbed the ladder to the top one, slipping under the blanket as Harper did. Your hair splayed across the pillow and you tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep.
“May we meet again,” You whispered into the air, tucking your hand under your cheek and closing your eyes, hoping for the day you reunite with Bellamy to come soon.
Taglist: @soullessbabee | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis | @dummythiccwitch | @sireddobrev | @gxvrielle | @hurricane-abigail | @holyhumorliteraturelight
#bellamy blake#bellamy blake imagine#bellamy blake series#bellamy blake x reader#bellamy blake x you#bellamy blake x y/n#this is war series
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“The Garden of Janus”
I The cloud my bed is tinged with blood and foam. The vault yet blazes with the sun Writhing above the West, brave hippodrome Whose gladiators shock and shun As the blue night devours them, crested comb Of sleep's dead sea That eats the shores of life, rings round eternity! II So, he is gone whose giant sword shed flame Into my bowels; my blood's bewitched; My brain's afloat with ecstasy of shame. That tearing pain is gone, enriched By his life-spasm; but he being gone, the same Myself is gone Sucked by the dragon down below death's horizon. III I woke from this. I lay upon the lawn; They had thrown roses on the moss With all their thorns; we came there at the dawn, My lord and I; God sailed across The sky in's galleon of amber, drawn By singing winds While we wove garlands of the flowers of our minds. IV All day my lover deigned to murder me, Linking his kisses in a chain About my neck; demon-embroidery! Bruises like far-ff mountains stain The valley of my body of ivory! Then last came sleep. I wake, and he is gone; what should I do but weep? V Nay, for I wept enough --- more sacred tears! --- When first he pinned me, gripped My flesh, and as a stallion that rears, Sprang, hero-thewed and satyr-lipped; Crushed, as a grape between his teeth, my fears; Sucked out my life And stamped me with the shame, the monstrous word of wife. VI I will not weep; nay, I will follow him Perchance he is not far, Bathing his limbs in some delicious dim Depth, where the evening star May kiss his mouth, or by the black sky's rim He makes his prayer To the great serpent that is coiled in rapture there. VII I rose to seek him. First my footsteps faint Pressed the starred moss; but soon I wandered, like some sweet sequestered saint, Into the wood, my mind. The moon Was staggered by the trees; with fierce constraint Hardly one ray Pierced to the ragged earth about their roots that lay. VIII I wandered, crying on my Lord. I wandered Eagerly seeking everywhere. The stories of life that on my lips he squandered Grew into shrill cries of despair, Until the dryads frightened and dumfoundered Fled into space --- Like to a demon-king's was grown my maiden face! XI At last I came unto the well, my soul In that still glass, I saw no sign Of him, and yet --- what visions there uproll To cloud that mirror-soul of mine? Above my head there screams a flying scroll Whose word burnt through My being as when stars drop in black disastrous dew. X For in that scroll was written how the globe Of space became; of how the light Broke in that space and wrapped it in a robe Of glory; of how One most white Withdrew that Whole, and hid it in the lobe Of his right Ear, So that the Universe one dewdrop did appear. IX Yea! and the end revealed a word, a spell, An incantation, a device Whereby the Eye of the Most Terrible Wakes from its wilderness of ice To flame, whereby the very core of hell Bursts from its rind, Sweeping the world away into the blank of mind. XII So then I saw my fault; I plunged within The well, and brake the images That I had made, as I must make - Men spin The webs that snare them - while the knee Bend to the tyrant God - or unto Sin The lecher sunder! Ah! came that undulant light from over or from under? XIII It matters not. Come, change! come, Woe! Come, mask! Drive Light, Life, Love into the deep! In vain we labour at the loathsome task Not knowing if we wake or sleep; But in the end we lift the plumed casque Of the dead warrior; Find no chaste corpse therein, but a soft-smiling whore. XIV Then I returned into myself, and took All in my arms, God's universe: Crushed its black juice out, while His anger shook His dumbness pregnant with a curse. I made me ink, and in a little book I wrote one word That God himself, the adder of Thought, had never heard. XV It detonated. Nature, God, mankind Like sulphur, nitre, charcoal, once Blended, in one annihilation blind Were rent into a myriad of suns. Yea! all the mighty fabric of a Mind Stood in the abyss, Belching a Law for "That" more awful than for "This." XVI Vain was the toil. So then I left the wood And came unto the still black sea, That oily monster of beatitude! ('Hath "Thee" for "Me," and "Me" for "Thee!") There as I stood, a mask of solitude Hiding a face Wried as a satyr's, rolled that ocean into space. XVII Then did I build an altar on the shore Of oyster-shells, and ringed it round With star-fish. Thither a green flame I bore Of phosphor foam, and strewed the ground With dew-drops, children of my wand, whose core Was trembling steel Electric that made spin the universal Wheel. XVIII With that a goat came running from the cave That lurked below the tall white cliff. Thy name! cried I. The answer that gave Was but one tempest-whisper - "If!" Ah, then! his tongue to his black palate clave; For on soul's curtain Is written this one certainty that naught is certain! XIX So then I caught that goat up in a kiss. And cried Io Pan! Io Pan! Io Pan! Then all this body's wealth of ambergris, (Narcissus-scented flesh of man!) I burnt before him in the sacrifice; For he was sure - Being the Doubt of Things, the one thing to endure! XX Wherefore, when madness took him at the end, He, doubt-goat, slew the goat of doubt; And that which inward did for ever tend Came at the last to have come out; And I who had the World and God to friend Found all three foes! Drowned in that sea of changes, vacancies, and woes! XXI Yet all that Sea was swallowed up therein; So they were not, and it was not. As who should sweat his soul out through the skin And find (sad fool!) he had begot All that without him that he had left in, And in himself All he had taken out thereof, a mocking elf! XXII But now that all was gone, great Pan appeared. Him then I strove to woo, to win, Kissing his curled lips, playing with his beard, Setting his brain a-shake, a-spin, By that strong wand, and muttering of the weird That only I Knew of all souls alive or dead beneath the sky. XXIII So still I conquered, and the vision passed. Yet still was beaten, for I knew Myself was He, Himself, the first and last; And as an unicorn drinks dew From under oak-leaves, so my strength was cast Into the mire; For all I did was dream, and all I dreamt desire. XXIV More; in this journey I had clean forgotten The quest, my lover. But the tomb Of all these thoughts, the rancid and the rotten, Proved in the end to be my womb Wherein my Lord and lover had begotten A little child To drive me, laughing lion, into the wanton wild! XXV This child hath not one hair upon his head, But he hath wings instead of ears. No eyes hath he, but all his light is shed Within him on the ordered sphere Of nature that he hideth; and in stead Of mouth he hath One minute point of jet; silence, the lightning path! XXVI Also his nostrils are shut up; for he Hath not the need of any breath; Nor can the curtain of eternity Cover that head with life or death. So all his body, a slim almond-tree, Knoweth no bough Nor branch nor twig nor bud, from never until now. XXVII This thought I bred within my bowels, I am. I am in him, as he in me; And like a satyr ravishing a lamb So either seems, or as the sea Swallows the whale that swallows it, the ram Beats its own head Upon the city walls, that fall as it falls dead. XXVIII Come, let me back unto the lilied lawn! Pile me the roses and the thorns, Upon this bed from which he hath withdrawn! He may return. A million morns May follow that first dire daemonic dawn When he did split My spirit with his lightnings and enveloped it! XXIX So I am stretched out naked to the knife, My whole soul twitching with the stress Of the expected yet surprising strife, A martyrdom of blessedness. Though Death came, I could kiss him into life; Though Life came, I Could kiss him into death, and yet nor live nor die! XXX Yet I that am the babe, the sire, the dam, Am also none of these at all; For now that cosmic chaos of I AM Bursts like a bubble. Mystical The night comes down, a soaring wedge of flame Woven therein To be a sign to them who yet have never been. XXXI The universe I measured with my rod. The blacks were balanced with the whites; Satan dropped down even as up soared God; Whores prayed and danced with anchorites. So in my book the even matched the odd: No word I wrote Therein, but sealed it with the signet of the goat. XXXII This also I seal up. Read thou herein Whose eyes are blind! Thou may'st behold Within the wheel (that alway seems to spin All ways) a point of static gold. Then may'st thou out therewith, and fit it in That extreme sphere Whose boundless farness makes it infinitely near.
-- Aleister Crowley
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Her Royal Highness (H.R.H.), Part XXV (The Ring)
Part I: The Crown Equerry | Part II: An Accidental Queen | Part III: Just Claire | Part IV: Foal | Part V: A Deal | Part VI: Vibrations | Part VII: Magnolias | Part VIII: Schoolmates | Part IX: A Queen’s Speech | Part X: Rare | Part XI: Watched | Part XII: A Day’s Anticipation | Part XIII: The Location | Part XV: Motorcycle | Part XV: Cabin | Part XVI: Market | Part XVII: Stables | Part XVIII: Alarms | Part XIX: Visitor | Part XX: Cuffed | Part XXI: A Woman’s Speech | Part XXII: The Harlot Queen | Part XXIII: Rarer | Part XXIV: Balmoral & London

Her Royal Highness (H.R.H.) Part XXV: The Ring
Time slowed in the cabin.
That was Jamie’s conclusion.
Each touch was a lifetime. The sunrises took longer, seemed more impactful. The banalities of a life – their life – existed for study (after she had carefully captured all aimlessly-wandering droplets off the whipped curves of her body, Claire was fastidious about folding her bath towel – halved lengthwise first, folded carefully over the curtain rod). His heartbeat marked time like an obedient soldier as her hand became a tool to mark him (pushing his knee to the side), to ready herself for a kiss (sweeping curls aside along a jagged deep side part), to ground her already-steady digits (resting above his heart as she lowered her mouth to his throat with a whispered “I will never tire of you”).
With each moment hanging like a ripe, ready-to-pick fruit on a too-thin branch, it was a strange sensation – to have each moment so meaningful and memorable, each revolution of the earth feeling like it took time as day-after-day fell away rapidly. It was as if the history between them – as new as it was – made each second swell until bulbous and fertile with memories, until it was tangible.
At the dawning of their first full day alone and together, Fraser settled into a chair on the front patio, making a space for his truest love – a queen, a woman, just Claire – on his flannel pajama pants-clad lap.
“Come here,” he said, quite unnecessarily as she was already approaching.
Claire plodded towards him in stocking feet, tipping her head to the side in a show of coquettishness so blatant that it made his belly stir. She hadn’t bothered with pants on the morning after her televised mea culpa – just knickers and an old chunky knit jumper she found at the back of his closet (sitting at the end of the bed as she asked for help that morning, he had rolled the impossibly-long sleeves and kissed the backs of her hands, her palms, ten fingertips, the pulse in each wrist). The crown of her head (where a literal crown frequently perched among tamed tresses, awaiting his fingers to free it) was a riotous tumble of curls. And the lazy, first fingers of morning light had painted that crown golden in a more brilliant display than any precious metal that ever rested there.
Neither had spoken much that morning, just letting blissful sighs and honeyed smiles stand in for all the words. Nothing was left to say for the moment. As she lowered herself to his lap, he felt as though the sun had come out on a rainy day.
Just seeing her, knowing that she was his.
A dhia.
Perhaps someday he would tell her that – how in this moment on the porch, he had been irrevocably, painfully in love with everything she was, ever had been, was destined to become. That she had his name, his family. The protection of his body. That as long as he lived, no one could take this from them.
Just a hair’s breadth from him, the swollen pout of her mouth was as good as a recording of the previous night. How he had thoroughly debauched her mouth with his own – tasting her, sucking her lower lip, swallowing her every sound, and feeding her his own.
Her golden head fell forward, her hand tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck, and she kissed him.
“You are a fool for loving me, James Fraser,” she mumbled against his mouth. She tasted of coffee and marmalade, each of the small hairs along the slope of her exposed neck rising as he kissed one bared clavicle reverently. “But you love me, and love me well. Your life will change forever.”
He had only one thing left to say: “Too late.”
That night, as the sun was setting with the same lazy, quicksand sink as the meandering, overweight lift of the sunrise, she rode him furiously, one hand curled around his shoulder and one flat against the side of the cabin. His hand crept beneath the sweater, pushed the fabric up and bunched it on her shoulder, lowered his mouth to the peak of her breast as he bucked up against her. He was desperate to bury himself in her, almost as if he wanted to crawl inside of her (something his sister had said years ago, that a man when making love wants to return to the womb – he had ached with laughing at her, now knew precisely her meaning). Claire cried out, losing rhythm, falling forward and spilling profanity against his unshaven throat.
After they were spent, he whispered, “Your life will change forever.”
It took a moment before she whispered, “It already has.”
Days later – they had a routine. A series of sunrises and sunsets in which they made love and ate breakfast foods. A palpably awkward afternoon where they sat on the front room’s couch like nervous teenagers as the imposing matriarch of the Murray family interrogated them about the whole thing (Claire confessing afterwards that she had never, ever felt less like Queen than when asked by Janet Murray what her intentions were with Jamie). Over forgotten chapter books, they talked about futures and pasts and moments that might be or could have been. They vowed not to break one another’s heart.
And then it was time.
Five sunrises and sunsets later, they were set to return to Balmoral.
They readied themselves next to one another in a charged silence. One where the platitude that things would change had finally taken on a meaning, where the promise of their new life was palpable.
Fraser shaved. Claire put on her earrings for the first time since he had removed them for her on that first night, manufactured a smile as she swept blush onto the apples of her cheeks, traced the cupid’s bow of her mouth with nude lip pencil (one they had tested and found to be remarkably resilient to a kiss, provided no tongues were involved), and straightened the waistband of her smart skirt suit.
“Ye forgot something.” He held out a fist, opened his fingers. The ring sat on his palm – heavy, diamonds glittering and onyx glowing. With a blushing ferocity, she took her ring, uncharacteristically mumbly as she thanked him, asked him never to remind her of what had happened again, and slipped the heavy bauble onto her slim finger. “Do ye ken the meaning of onyx?”
She looked down at the ring, her fingers stiff as she inspected the stone. “What does onyx mean, Fraser?”
He slipped behind her, arms coming to rest around her waist. “It transforms negative energy. It’s a hopeful stone. It helps one walk through life as the master of her own future.”
In the mirror, he could see that her lower lip trembled a little. Her eyes narrowed, wet along the lower lash line as she asked, “Is that true?”
“Aye, through the stone, ye can draw strength to lead the life ye want.” Humming, she kissed the corner of his mouth. “Do ye ken the meaning of a pearl, a nighean?”
“Well, Cleopatra dissolved a pearl in vinegar and drank it to make a point – that she could rule an entire empire,” Claire teased, her voice wavering a little. “But the meaning? I will venture a guess that you are about to tell me, Fraser.”
“And ye’d be right, Claire.” Her name became a tease on his tongue. It was light, sexy. It made her glow. It made her question their decision to go to Balmoral and the assumption they had made all along that they had to do anything. “A pearl is for beauty, of course, but a pearl… weel, it means new beginnings.”
He reached around her, opening his hand once more. On his palm was a simple, single strand of pearls. Somewhat irregularly shaped and interrupted by tiny golden seeded beads, they were no less beautiful than any strand she had in her collection.
“I canna give ye anything as fine as what ye already have. I ken the life that I will lead, that I willna ever be able to provide for ye, to surprise ye wi’ a bit of jewelry. But what I do have… are these.”
He heard her swallow, felt her back melt fully into his front, felt the shift of her ribs as she took a deep breath and then another.
“They’re Scotch pearls. Belonged to my mother. And now they belong to you, mo nighean donn. They’re one of the few things I have left of her. Verra precious to me. As are you, Claire.”
He kissed the top of her shoulder, her ear, and carefully fastened the necklace around her neck, fingers straying at a single errant curl along her nape. Fingers resting on the strand, her eyes met his in the mirror as she whispered, “They are beautiful.”
“Ye probably have a dozen finer–”
Turning, she shook her head and gave him a dire look, her finger pressing over his lips. “Never say that. Ever. I have a collection of all sorts of riches – diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, gold and silver, and yes… pearls too – but nothing will ever live in my heart like these do.”
She cupped his cheeks, rose onto the very tips of her toes, and gave him a chaste kiss.
“Now, take me home to Balmoral.”
* the love of @notevenjokingfic, @balfeheughlywed, @smashing-teacups, and @desperationandgin has kept me going through this story, and I owe them each a good night out on the town. <3
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NerdBae - Part IV
It was impossible not to feel the electricity budding between them. It was everywhere and everyone could feel it just as much as Tre and Elle did. She’d had a little too much to drink after the banquet and got a little too drunk. Tripped on the steps and into Tre’s arms like in the movies, all the wide eyed passion between them only for the impending kiss to be interrupted by Gina opening the front door. Then a week of meetings and R&D for Tre that had been planned for months.
“Y’all need anything?” He asks finding Elle and Gina in the movie room giggling after midnight.
“Ice cream, the one we just bought and chips” Gina fans making Tre chuckle.
“Please” Elle reminds her demanding friend.
“I got you” Tre nods getting the snacks happy to see them comfortable in his home theatre. He hands them their requests before Gina gets up.
“Gonna go call my boo”
“Gi!”
“This shit is boring and Tre will enjoy it more” Gina says leaving with her snacks only to be ice grilled.
“He’s a better cuddler anyways” Elle shouts throwing a pillow playfully. She opens her pint of ice cream stopping herself from taking a spoonful and offering it to Tre.
“Want some?”
“You good” he refuses.
“Too much sugar or something”
“Yes and sugar isn’t good for any part of our bodies, especially highly refined and processed” he begins making Elle smile. She could see the wear of him from the stressful week taking the spare eye mask from the vacant chair beside her.
“We’ll invent something to save me from my sweet tooth” Elle mutters eating the spoonful anyways. It was her response to anything. She opens the package placing the jelly like substance under his eyes.
“I’ll give you all the sugar you need” Tre smiles grabbing her and smothering her with kisses while tickling her mercilessly. He’d missed her a lot.
“Thank you, as much as I appreciate that affection attack this is still my shit, taste it. Then sit still this is good for your eyes” Elle hands him the spoon and he understands the minute it melts on his tongue.
“Wow”
“Uh-huh” she responds as he continues having some. It takes her no time to smooth the patches onto his under eye area. “See this is how you need to be around the competition, confident and yourself. Relaxed” Elle adds.
“Business gets to me because it’s how I provide. All I’ve ever wanted to do was take care of you guys”
“And who takes care of you?”
“All of you do, except Gina but I’ll give her a pass cause she loves me”
“Does she?” Elle teases with a raised brow. “I’m joking, she’s always singing your praises. We both are and we love you Tre. Even if you couldn’t provide” Elle admits. He’d grown up with a chip so big he wanted to be what they all needed in exchange for all the love he got as a kid. All the laughs, adventures, whoppings.
Her phone rings from a blocked number and she ends it immediately.
“Cameron?”
“It’s likely but I’m done. Haven’t been this happy in a long time to be honest, had to learn the hard way I guess. Thanks for inviting us all here and being you” elles words are sincere. He wants to kiss her lips. She was never this sweet with other men, not even Cameron when they were together. He’d seen them together a few times - she wasn’t under him, cuddly or so soft spoken.
“Happiest I’ve been in a long time too Ellie. I’m happy you’re back. I’m here for everything always” he repeats earnestly.
“So right now you’re going to cuddle me and watch this movie and tell me it’s amazing” Elle says getting comfortable and rewinding the parts they missed. She falls asleep in his arms before it’s over and he carries her to her room ticking her in and kissing Elles cheek wanting to get in bed beside her.
“You gonna be okay sleeping in here alone?” He asks.
“Yes?” Elle smiles making a face of uncertainty.
“Come on”
“Lines are a bit blurry - so I better just stay in my room” Elle blushes getting her phone. “You make me nervous when you look at me like that” Elle admits feeling the weight of his gaze on her and liking every bit of how it feels.
“Cant help it” he shrugs openly. “And I know how it goes until you’re comfortable in a space you don’t sleep then get groggy. Come on” he takes her hand gently walking her to her room.
_________
Tre helps Gina stretch - she’s one a mission to get thick. Somehow their mommas genes skipped Gina and she was tall and thin for the most part. They head to a juice shop she he gets her his special.
“Tre, this is amazing”
“Told you” he smiles as they sit down watching the waves crash on the coast. “It’s paradise here, I don’t want to leave”
“Y’all don’t have to” Tre responds honestly. “The house is big enough for all of us. I can move mommas to the pool house and they can have their own areas, whatever makes y’all happy” he shrugs. Gina rests her head on his shoulder.
“How about when I get a boyfriend or Elle and we bring guys home?”Gina smiles feeling his tense knowing she’s hit all the right buttons. “You think you’re slick T but I caught all the looks, you were buzzing”
“You didn’t tell me that she got locked up” he comments.
“We already know I have - she wanted her privacy” Gina defends. She’d spent a night in jail on her twenty first for being plastered.
“That’s not Elle, if she acted out she was hurting”
“Yeah well she was. She broke dishes pulled down curtains rods and all, threw a paper weight breaking a window took an knife to his canvases. Cam kept telling her to stop then she threw a crystal at him and knocked him out for a few minutes. She did cpr and called 911 they came cuffed her up. Cam woke up demanding them to let her go saying it was a lovers squabble or whatever the fuck. She wouldn’t even let him bail her out”
“So is it over for good?”
“Yes! Elles ashamed he got her to that place. I saw the place when I went to get her things. It looked like a natural disaster hit. She was screaming this is art too then and fuck your art.” Gina laughs. “God, I wish I could have seen it live. Stirred the assholes loins, he writes her letters now. Saying bullshit like her passion showed him he made the wrong choice and he’s been painting her but she’s pissed” Gina explains laughing. “I was proud of her”
“She doesn’t need that”
“So she needs you?” Gina questions.
“Yes”
“It’s about time your balls dropped” Gina laughs at her brother.
“What’s so funny G”
“Nothing, you were her first crush, she’s always sweet to you. I’m pretty sure she’s crushing still. All Jo was talking about the other night was how good the two of you looked together. Which means you have my blessing, her moms and we both know Ma adores Ellie” Gina explains making Tre smile.
What’s not to love? He thinks to himself. She’d been the sweetest girl ever. She was always sharing and helping however she could. Even when Gina terrorized him she’d give him a hug. It’s never been her character to cause tension or lash out.
“It’s Elle, if we don’t work out the family is broken” Tre explains with a logical reason against his possible happiness.
“When did you fail at getting something to work. If she’s not feeling you then that’s that. But even if she is, Elle won’t make the first move.”
“Why are you being nice”
“My title for your personal enterprise is consultant. I figure I might as well contribute to my salary every so often. Who knows you strike gold and I might get a raise” Gina winks.
Authors Note: Thanks for reading everyone! How are we feeling about the two main characters? And Gina’s work to get them together? And the actions that landed Elle in jail for a night? Comment your feedback, xx.
TAGS:
@bugngiz @lifelover4u @l-auteuse @notsomellowmushroom @princessasaani @heavensangelxo @bakarilennox
@tastingmellow @chaneajoyyy @thehomierobbstark @jad3djay @thickemadame @doublesidedscoobysnacks @aanairb @hooliemooliedonutshawp
@quietstorm-73 @thememoireeofme @tip222u @amelatonin @cherrystainedlipsbaby @keiva1000 @highlifeflylife
@queenflaws @uzumaki-rebellion @cutewylie @twistedcharismaaa @xo-goldengirl @lostennyc @xo-goldengirl
#nerdbae#Trevante Rhodes#masterlist#trevante rhodes x reader#trevanterhodesimagine#trevante x black reader#trevante
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The intentions with this post have been circling in my brain for days. But now that i'm actually getting the chance to write, i feel at a loss for words.
My need for activism surrounding animals has been at full force lately. I have seen all of the debates, watched all the documentaries, and read all the books regarding the injustice and specism around non human animals. I finally felt ready to take my activism into my own hands, and visited my first dairy farm. With this being said, I had never announced that I was an animal rights activist. None of the employees or other guests on the farm knew my intentions. And to be quite honest, neither did i. I knew that i was going to do whatever i could to keep my cool to bear witness to these beautiful animals. But what i didn't know, was how my emotions were going to play a part in that. I have always been a pretty emotional being, and i was trying my hardest to not let that get the best of me and cause a scene. I knew that nobody there would listen to the extent i was wanting, so in a sense i felt hopeless. I did learn something while on this farm. I learned that even the most “humane” farm has awful brutal conditions for these animals.
This farm was an hour away. I went alone, which meant on the drive down, I had plenty of time to mentally prepare for what I was going to witness. I had this thought in the back of my mind that for some reason, “maybe it won't be as bad as i think it's going to be”. After all, the milk bottles always seem to talk about “ happy cows” and cartoonized them into “loving to provide” for human consumption.
Arriving at the farm, I instantly felt my nerves take over. I walked in with a shaky voice into the lobby, and waited to be taken to the “ milking room” by the farmer on site. My group and I walked down a long narrow hallway that soon was greeted by an overwhelming smell of rotten food, feces and manure. Once we made it to the milking room, i was shocked. I couldn't believe that this small room was used to milk over 400 cows, daily. They had several cows crowded and crammed into this room. The cows tried to back away any chance they could get, but couldn't because they were so confined in between metal rods and surrounded by other cows. There was one cow in particular that caught my eye. She had her head rested on a bar that held her close by. She looked exhausted, from being constantly bred and milked her whole life. This broke me. Every wall I had built up leading to this moment brought me back to square one. I felt vulnerable and to be honest, quite embarrassed. But more than anything, i was angry. Angry that everyone around me saw this as normal. I felt like the only one in the room that saw the situation from the victims perspective. I tried to reason with the rest of the group and see it as a necessity, but its too hard to look at it that way when there are so many alternatives that don't cause suffering. I quickly calmed down and realized I was here for the animals, and my motivation shot back up.
After the milking room, we were taken next to the line of cows leading up to the milkroom. We were told that there would be baby calves for us to “pet” and for anyone to get the chance to “milk a cow” for the first time. It broke my heart to watch this sweet mama be touched and pulled at by random strangers, while her baby sat across the room pinned up. Her baby had been taken hours after he was born, and would soon be sent to slaughter, because he wasn't born for the means to be milked someday.
I spoke with many employees that day. I asked questions, made comments, and expressed my concerns regarding the wellbeing of these animals. I forced them to answer questions regarding artificial insemination, slaughterhouse send offs, and touchy subjects about the whole process of taking the babies from their mom. These workers seemed happy to do their job. It seemed so normal to them, that when someone asked these questions, it took them by surprise. I asked an employee if he ever felt upset or saddened when the cows were sent off to slaughter and he shrugged and said “well, when they stop producing enough milk, there isn't much we can do”.
The owner of the company shared that he can “get the cows to do whatever he wants them to do”. Despite the “happy cow” persona, these cows were being held and forced against their will, and I can assure you that they were not happy during the process.
While they offered cheese and milk samples, I snuck off of the tracks of the tour and went behind the farm. I saw hundreds of day/week/month old baby calves, locked up in what seemed to be small dog houses. Every single one was trying to run and jump in the small space they were “provided”. I couldn't help but cry to these babies. The world let them down. They needed their mother. But, the dairy industry took their mothers from them, for societies cereal and coffee. Before long they will be put into this industry for about 3 years until they are sent to be slaughtered.
This experience was a start to a long journey for me. I am learning more and more every day about how to help educate those around me, and how to better myself. Being an empath and a vegan has been a very narrow road for me. I often become angry, and sad simply because its difficult to have such a small voice in a big world. I often wish it was easier to reveal these industries to those i care about, but everyone having their own choice plays too large of a role for me to intervene. If there's anything i've learned at the beginning of this journey, it is to be gentle with myself. It can sometimes be hard to come to the conclusion that I live in a not yet vegan world. I have learned to listen more intently. and sometimes, it may seem as though someone is being ignorant, but their views just differ from mine. Ive learned patience and so much perseverance in this process and how passion is beautiful.
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Yandere! BTS Reaction: Trap & Bound
A/n: *risen from the dead* I-I'm...alive!

Pairing: Yandere! Bts x Reader
Words: 1,663
Content: Slight mention of abuse, toxic relationship, horror/ thriller, delusional, force relationship, drugs, manipulation, etc.
Prompt: “Take care of me will you?”

Kim Seokjin:
Sitting in front of your vanity mirror with such a petrified look as you do your best to calm down and try not to breakdown. Jin was behind you, combing your luscious locks as he glides a comb down smoothly to tame the messy tresses. Never would you have thought this person was capable of being a monster.
Jin was everything a person would've wanted in their life before everything went downhill. He was charismatic, so funny with his lame puns and jokes, and to the point your parents liked him.
Hell, the reason why you're sitting in front of a vanity and being decorated like a bride for a wedding…that is was is happening now.
“You look so pretty,” he complimented before leaning down next to your face and smiles at you in the mirror. It would've sounded nice but the fact that you can see your parents mangled bodies behind you through the reflection is very off-putting. Clenching your hands together into fists, Jin chuckles, “Since you're gonna be a Kim alongside with me,” he then utter those words that cause dread to set within you.
Min Yoongi:
Breathing deeply as you feel another convulsion of a shock going through you again. You shaking hands grips the knife tightly in your hands.
Silently sobbing into the dark, you can't prevent any sounds coming out from your throat as the images of people who were precious to you like jewels lay dead in their own pool of blood.
“What do you want from me Yoongi?!” You scream angrily into the dark narrow hallway that was almost deprived of any light but was saved but a lone candle that seems to be walking closer to you in the hands of someone.
“What do I want from you?” Yoongi mocks your question rhetorically before a slight laugh and scoff came from them. “That's a good question,” he brings the candle closer to his face to show there was blood splatter across as it glint by the light. “Since you've made me so crazy for you and you're all I ever see in my head,” he stalks closer to your face and held the candle closer to you both, and whisper those words to you so soft and dangerous.
The candle then was blown out as a scream echo out.
Jung Hoseok:
Faintly tracing the marred scars on your collarbone you look at your haggard self in the mirror. Dried blood smear on your lips due to being abused. Tired eyes from the lack of sleep. Bruises of handprints litter on your body due to being mistreated.
The sound of the door being knock open at the front brought you back from reality. Quickly putting your clothes—that was given by Hoseok, you open the bathroom door and fear overtook your body. Your heart was hammering loudly in your ears and it feels like it wants to bust out from your chest.
“(Name)!” Hoseok shouted in the house. He sounded angry by the tone and use of your name.
Slowly approaching the man, he throws a knife pass your head that implanted deeply on a dartboard and you stop walking immediately and close your eyes in fright.
“What took you so long? Also, did I tell you to stop walking?” His eyes dangerously narrow at you and you shook your head as a ‘no’ to appease him. Continue towards him, his mood shifted immediately to a happy one you recognize during the first few months of dating him. “Come here,” he opens his lap for you while extending a hand out at you.
Slowly accepting his hold, he pulls you into his lap and you tense up. It's not like he cares anyway. “Since I have been so nice to you for so long, why don't you…” He whispers out while one of his hands glides underneath your shirt.
Kim Namjoon:
Hands clutching onto a much stronger one as the feeling of life is being depleted from you every second. Water spills everywhere from the bathtub from the frantic kicking and erratic movements.
Namjoon pulls you out of the tub of ice cold water and you gasp out for air. He tosses the glasses he was wearing somewhere in the bathroom as his white dress shirt was drench in water, which shows his chest and his stomach.
You were coughing and shivering in the bathtub. You were also sure that your lips were purple too.
“I've been patient (Name), and you're just taking advantage of it.” He was calm, and you can see he was disappointed in you. “I also expect much better behavior from you from now on.” Namjoon took off his tie and start to unbuttoned his wet see-through shirt. “Get out of the bath and drain the water, draw me a warmer one.” He then proceeds to pull you up from the bathtub by the arm. One of his arms snake around your waist that spare no personal space.
Namjoon then whispers those words slow and seductive, which cause you to squirm in his hold.
Park Jimin:
You never thought something so innocent and pure would destroy your world overnight like this. Sitting in front of you was Jimin who happily talk to you minus the mess of dismembering corpses blood and bodies were everywhere in the room.
“Noona did you listen to me?” The man pouted and shook you slightly. Snapping back to reality, you stutter out a few incoherent words in fear. Seeing you try to answer him he just giggles at you. He thought it was cute how you were so afraid of him, “It's okay,” one of his bloodied hand went to your face, “I get that being newlyweds must be kind of shocking.”
“What do you mean newlyweds?” Your question makes the man pout again, and you gulp nervously at what he was about to say.
“I ask if you were okay that today we are married to each other, and you nodded. I even ask the part of wanting children too and you also nodded.”
Oh fuck, you're so screwed.
Jimin then grasp your hands tightly and pull you across the table to him, “You won't lie to me right?” You were so afraid that his eyes darken and you just nodded at what he said. “Great!” He let's go of your hands and clap his hands together, “Let's get started!” What Jimin said next didn't match his cheerful manner, those words that he said only makes you more afraid.
Kim Taehyung:
Nothing seems to register to you, every time you look at the paper the world seems to spin around you. “Dr. Kim,” you childishly called out to Taehyung who was busy giving you a drug through the IV drip that'll keep your mind like a child, “I don't understand this!”
Taehyung snatch the paper from you and scan the paper, “Where do you get this?”
“I got it from outside! Doesn't the girl in the paper look like me?” Proudly telling him, the man hit your face. This made you whimper as you feebly hold your cheek in pain.
“What did I tell about the outside world?”
Cowering under his tone you can't help it but cry. “Y-You told me not to go outside and to never do it.”
“Good that you remember, and yet you still do it,” he then pulls out an electrical rod from a drawer, “but there is punishment for consequences too.”
Your eyes widen and you start to hyperventilating in your chair. “I'm sorry please don't hurt me!”
“You do know how hard it is for me to take care of you don't you? But I can let this slip if you'll be willing to please me.” That somehow made your ears perk up. “If you're willing to take care of me and help me lure the bastard who had handed you that flyer then I can let this go.” There was a smirk from him and a dark glint in your eyes. And without hesitation, you told him, ‘yes’ and that made him happy.
Jeon Jungkook:
Chain to the bed headboard you try to tugged the cuff links just to make sure that there would be a defect in the links.
“What are you doing baby?”
You look at the door to found an amuse Jungkook who cocks a brow at you while leaning against the doorframe. Blowing hair out if your face you just roll your eyes at him and throw your head back into the pillows.
Jungkook heavy boots approach your prison form. The man looms over you. He grabs your jaws and let his thumb caress the bruise underneath before pressing it and this cause you to lash out violently at him in pain. But the cuffs prevent you from doing it so.
“You don't like it when I'm being nice nor mean to you, so you better pick a side and stick to it, baby.” Palming your face with his callous hand be gives a few slaps. You spit at Jungkook and he just chuckles, “Guess mean it is.”
He then presses a finger at the barely close wound on your stomach and you scream in pain as he digs it deeper to open it back up. Sinister as he is, he can replace the devil anytime.
Taking his finger out he then drew a heart on your unbruised side of the face. Blood seeps out from the wound. “I can be nice sometimes, all you had to do is just swallow your pride and submit to me.” He then drums his fingers down your bloodied stomach, “But then again, it's your turn so…”
His sweet voice says such words that sound so vehemently in your mind makes you wish you were dead.
#bts#bangtan#bts jungkook#bangta boys#bts v#bts suga#bts jhope#bts jimin#bts jin#bangtan boys#bts namjoon#bts-x-reader#fan fic writing#fan fiction#fanfic#bts imagines#bts reaction#bts imagine#bts reactions#bts fandom#bts fanfction#bts fanfic#bts yandere
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Mainland + Blonds 1 [Macgyver/Hawaii 5-O]
Mainland + Blond’s
Danny really has good reason to hate the Mainland now and Mac decides that being blond is overrated.
Prompt: Cages
MacGyver/Hawaii 5-O crossover
Part 12 of Love + Angst
Ao3 Link
Chapter 1 [Danny & Mac]
Mac felt like someone had taken a jackhammer to his forehead. He moaned weakly as he pried his sore eyes open before instantly closing them at the sudden brightness.
“Easy buddy, take it slow.” A male voice coached and Mac found himself following the advice and soon the world didn’t seem so bright and everything swam into focus. That’s when Mac realized he was in trouble.
“Don’t try and sit up, it looks like you have a pretty nasty head wound and who knows what they are pumping you full of.” The voice returned and Mac squinted down at his right elbow where he felt a pinching sensation coming from and blinked at the IV line that was coming from his skin.
He lifted his left hand to pull it out but cold metal and a clinking sound made him pause. He looked over at his left wrist to see it was handcuffed to a steel rod, which made no sense to Mac. Mac slowly looked around and groaned; of course, it made sense if he was inside of a cage.
“Yeah, that was my reaction,” The voice snorted and Mac slowly turned his head to the left to see an identical cage sitting a few feet away from his. A ruffled blond with slick-backed hair was sitting against the far side of his cage, his dress pants and shirt dirtied with blood and dirt.
“Where are we?” Mac asked, voice raspy and he licked his chapped lips as he slowly levered himself up, the world briefly spinning around him before he blinked rapidly and slumped against the side of his cage breathing heavily.
“No idea, the bastards who grabbed me, kept me unconscious the whole time.” The blond gritted his teeth, looking like he was beating himself up over it.
“Sounds familiar, why am I drugged up and you’re not?” Mac asked as he noted the heavy cast iron shackle that was latched too tight around his right ankle and the matching chain looped around one of the steel rods.
“You injured one of the bastards when they grabbed you, must have freaked them out enough to keep you doped up.” The blond ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing some stray pieces back into place.
“I’m Mac,” Mac offered as he tried to remember what had led up to him being taken, he hated to say it but at least it wasn’t Murdoc this time.
“Danny,” The man gave a brief smile and shifted over to the side of his cage that was closer to Mac’s, a clinking noise made Mac realize Danny was shackled as well.
“Any idea who took us?” Mac asked, suddenly glad he wasn’t alone in this mess and that Danny seemed oddly calm about this whole thing.
“I saw some other cages in another room each time they bring in water and bread, all of them fit blond males… I hate to say it but it looks like human trafficking.” Danny surmised and Mac frowned at the thought.
“I think being blond may be overrated now,” Mac muttered getting a brief laugh from Danny.
“Figures I’d be taken on the mainland, Steve is going to love this,” Danny muttered as he swiped his palms down his pants.
“Mainland?” Mac asked, needing to talk to try and fight back against the drugs that were keeping him feeling heavy and off balance.
“Oh right, I’m from Hawaii well now I am. I just came back to LA for a layover to Jersey to see my family. That was maybe a day ago? Steve is anal about me checking in when I’m traveling so since I haven’t in 24 hours he should be looking and he’ll find us. He isn’t a SEAL for nothing.” Danny explained, looking fond as he spoke about Steve the SEAL and Mac felt suddenly lonely and he hoped Jack realized he was gone.
“SEAL huh? Mine was my Overwatch in the army and he just kind of followed me home, if both of them are looking for us then we should be rescued sometime soon.” Mac said confidently before shutting his eyes and breathing through another dizzy spell.
“Mac, hey, look we aren’t going anywhere in the meantime so try and get some sleep yeah?” Danny advised as he looked at the younger blond in concern.
“Yeah, good plan… Try and get that bolt out of the cage and maybe, maybe you can use it to get your door open… Jack will be here soon…” Mac said drowsily before his eyes slid shut and his head lolled to the side.
Danny took a few breathes to stop himself from freaking out about Mac passing out, it was just the drugs and if they were being held by human traffickers than they wanted them in relatively good shape.
Danny looked at the bolt and shook his head in disbelief, the kid was drugged to the gills but still managed to find the one bolt that wasn’t all but nailed into the cement floor. Danny settled by the bolt and got to work.
It was tedious work and his fingers were a bloodied mess but in the end, Danny had a bolt settled on the palm of his hand and he didn’t feel as useless as he had before. He tugged on the shackle that had been a source of annoyance for a while now and frowned at the lock, it would be impossible without the key and Danny didn’t know how much time they had.
Traffickers didn’t stay in one place too long, especially if people started to hunt them down and Danny had no doubts Steve was doing just that.
Danny could have collapsed in relief when gunshots began to echo around the warehouse, instead of relaxing Danny got into a crouched position and held the bolt up like a weapon and to him it was. Danny bared his teeth as the door was kicked in and an unfamiliar man in black unmarked tactical gear stormed in, his gun still raised. The moment his eyes landed on Mac, unconscious inside of the cage next to Danny, his face melted into one Danny had seen on Steve’s face many times.
“You must be Jack,” Danny said in realization as the man who was followed by the rest of a tactical team swarmed the room, knelt next to Mac’s cage, hands fluttering around the IV.
“Yeah, and you must be Danny Williams. McGarrett has been going nuts with you missing.” Jack nodded at Danny who slumped onto the floor but kept his grip on the bolt.
“Steve, is he here?” Danny asked as a man opened the cage doors with a set of keys they must have gotten off of their kidnappers.
“Yeah, he’s here the crazy man. McGarrett, we found them. South building!” Jack said into his com piece and quickly entered Mac’s cage, unlocking the shackle and cuff, gathering the unconscious blond into his arms protectively.
Danny was being helped out of the cage, his leg feeling ridiculously lighter when Steve and Junior burst into the room, both decked out in their own tactical gear.
“Danno,” Steve breathed out in relief as he shoved his gun into his holster and pulled Danny into a tight hug. Danny clung to the taller man, not realizing he was shaking until he was in Steve’s arms.
“You found me,” Danny said into Steve’s shoulder and blinked back the wetness that was stinging at his eyes.
“Always Danno,” Steve promised fiercely, kissing the blond’s forehead.
“Hey, Jack? Thanks, man,” Steve nodded at his old army friend who had Mac in his arms bridal style.
“No problem brother, we found them,” Jack said as he looked down at Mac with soft eyes before leaving the room and the cages behind.
“He looks at Mac like you look at me, I wonder how long it will take them to get their heads out of their ass’s.” Danny mused as he, Steve and Junior followed Mac and Jack.
“Hopefully not as long as it took us,” Steve said with a smile on his face.
“No kidding, I can’t imagine what it was like before Tani and I joined,” Junior muttered under his breath and laughed when Steve shot him a playful glare.
“Nah even drugged out of his mind, the kid was insistent that his Jack would save us,” Danny commented and Steve just smiled knowingly.
“You should have seen Jack, I thought I was going out of my mind but he was another level,” Steve said just as knowingly. They just exchanged looks when they stepped outside and spotted Jack caressing Mac’s face, as the blond was now awake and strapped to a stretcher, words being traded in soft tones.
“Yeah, they won’t take as long as we did.” Danny decided and leaned into his husband’s side content now that they were all safe.
#MacGyver#hawaii 5-0#Crossover#Love + Angst#Established Steve McGarrett/Danny Danno Williams#Pre-Mac/Jack#whump#non-con drug use#cages#human trafficking#kidnapp#kidnapped Danny#Kidnapped Mac#Protective Steve Mcgarett#protective Jack Dalton#fallenqueen2
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Part 3 of @sittingoverheredreaming‘s commission series! Group post is here, if you want to catch up (which I recommend doing before this chapter!). This part is right around 2400 words. If you like it, thank Sam for commissioning it, reblog, leave a comment - y’all know the drill :) If you’re interested in commissioning me, click on this handy lil link!
Haruka had returned in a matter of minutes after Hotaru’s exit, so quickly that Michiru wondered aloud how they had not ran into each other in the hall, to which Haruka just shrugged. The nurse had acquiesced to lowering Michiru’s pain medications, and she could feel the fog dissipating from her vision. Though this should have been a relief, the intense pain of her wounds healing at accelerated speeds acted as a hot knife, slicing and searing through each agonizing moment. She could taste blood on her bottom lip from biting down to hold in a scream when a particularly bad wave had hit, the coppery aftertaste lingering even after the wound had stopped bleeding.
After a few minutes of Haruka whispering reassurances from beside her, Michiru began to regain enough sense to fill her in on the updates from Hotaru. The act of explaining kept her mind somewhat distracted from the sensation of her bones knitting back together, and Haruka seemed to sense this as she quietly listened, simply nodding when Michiru would pause.
“And thus, here we are,” Michiru concluded, the somehow still perfect manicure on her left hand digging deeply into her palm as she clenched her hand into a fist from the pain. “The handful of us against Serenity, with Mercury at her back besides.” The pain mercifully dulled to an acute throb - impossible to ignore, but more manageable as her body and mind adjusted to its presence. “Will you join us in killing the would-be Queen? Of ensuring that Crystal Tokyo never comes to pass?”
There was barely a pause before Haruka’s answer came, delivered with a small smile. “Michi, you don’t even have to ask. You know I would follow you anywhere, even into Hell.” She punctuated this statement by moving a piece of hair back from where it had stuck to Michiru’s cheek, tucking it gently behind her ear, the touch as soft as a quiet wind.
Relief swelled in Michiru’s chest as the tension in her shoulders sagged. There had not been an argument, as she had assumed there would be, and for this she was immensely grateful; she had not needed to defend the fact that Usagi, too, had died on that battlefield, and an imposter now wore her corpse. She allowed the balm of her lover’s assurances, more effective than any medicine the hospital had to offer, to wash away the twinge of fear that the argument had been too easily won. She almost allowed herself to believe that Haruka’s love for her meant more than her devotion to their Princess, but her brain stopped short of such blatant optimism, the serpent’s voice in the back of her mind whispering that it must be too good to be true, that she needed to ask; she could not remain blissfully ignorant in the Garden when such fruit hung inches from her face.
Michiru smiled, forcing those thoughts down, focusing only on the deep green of Haruka’s eyes as they twinkled, the brightest stars amidst the constellation of freckles on her nose, her lips wishing to explore every inch of the galaxy that her love contained. “I’m glad to hear it. This will be challenging enough with you; I do not wish to imagine without.”
“You’ll never have to,” Haruka replied easily before standing, the bed barely moving with the smoothness of her rising. She leaned overtop of the resting woman and pressed a gentle kiss on the sweat-dampened forehead, and Michiru knew she should be appalled that Haruka was seeing her in such a state, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care about anything more than the lips on her brow.
As she stepped backwards, Michiru’s skin immediately tingling from the memory of those lips, gentle as a ghost, Haruka deftly plucked the call button from where it rested and placed it underneath her right hand. “Now that’s settled, why don’t you call the nurse and ask for more pain meds? You look like you need them.” It wasn’t said unkindly, her lover’s eyes sympathetic and warm, but Michiru still felt the sting of the words, a cold spray of seawater splashed onto her cheek by an aggressive breeze, her cheeks flushing with the impact.
“I - perhaps it is unwise to…” her sentence drifted off as she stared at Haruka’s face, brow quirked and mouth still wearing that gently teasing smile.
“You already got approved to leave tomorrow, right? Why make yourself suffer in the meantime?” The corners of her mouth ticked downward and her voice took on a somber tone, losing the playful lilt of a moment before. “I hate seeing you like this,” Haruka murmured as her eyes darted around Michiru’s body, carving out a path from the bandages on her chest to the IV in her arm, and every bruise and cut in-between. “It’ll be easier if you just take the medicine, Michi.” Haruka’s expression was somewhat forlorn, and Michiru found that if a suitable argument existed to the contrary, she did not know it.
“All right,” Michiru whispered, index finger lightly touching the call button. The smile returned to Haruka’s face and she leaned down to give another feather-light kiss, the sweet temptation of her breath overpowering all traces of blood on her lips.
--
When Michiru awoke the next morning, eyes squinting with the effort of not simply succumbing back into blissful sleep, her vision cleared around the sight of hawklike eyes, watching her every breath intently. It took another moment for her to realize that it was Haruka’s gaze that met her own. “How are you feeling, Michiru?”
Michiru forced her eyelids to open and shut several times, her vision still dark at the corners despite these efforts. “Tired,” she replied plainly as she stared at the clock, brain initially almost too sluggish to determine what it read. “Isn’t it a bit too early for visiting hours?” She knew that her memory wasn’t currently at its best, but a memory stirred involving someone trying to see her and a nurse shooing them away, citing the policy as their argument faded into the blackness of sleep.
“Not if you’re family,” Haruka answered with a grin, although she took that moment to glance down at the watch on her arm. “Visiting starts soon - bet the girls will be here right as they open it up. Are you sure you feel well enough to leave?”
“I don’t feel as though I have much option,” she sighed, head sagging against the pillow behind it, the one that hadn’t improved from Haruka’s dozen or so attempts to fluff it up. Hotaru had been correct; she was healing more quickly than a normal person would. The doctor attributed this progress to his own qualifications, unable or unwilling to see what was there instead, and Michiru had allowed him to think that was the case. But a few of the nurses didn’t seem to trust the good doctor as much as he trusted himself - the woman who had changed the bandage over her heart where the defibrillator had scorched her flesh had made a few too many comments about the now-unblemished skin for Michiru’s comfort.
“You can do anything, Michiru. We can do anything.” Haruka looked to the doorway, ensuring that they were alone before continuing in slightly hushed tones. She leaned forward co-conspiratorially, eyes alight with mischief and promise. “We could run away together, just the two of us. Let them sort out all this mess. Didn’t you say you wanted to go back to Paris this year?”
“But you hate Paris,” Michiru blurted out, her forehead crinkling as her limited cognitive function struggled to the surface, each thought threatening to sink back down to the ocean floor. “And if Serenity is allowed to rule, there will be no Paris, besides.” She pictured the Eiffel Tower replaced by a huge crystal shard and wrinkled her nose in distaste.
“Maybe - or maybe they can beat her without us. We could be eating pastries and drinking wine this time tomorrow, if you wanted.” It was a careful argument, measured and thought out and so unlike Haruka’s usual rash insistence that it seemed somehow more logical than the alternative.
Because of this, Michiru was running out of arguments against the temptation of flight. She had always known herself to be selfish, and often a coward besides, and she could think of no better Eden than the penthouse suite of a fine hotel, Haruka ordering copious room service between rounds of intimacy under the silken sheets -
She forced those thoughts out of her head before they threatened to swallow her up, definitively shaking her head in response to the proposition. Michiru had bitten the apple long ago, the first time her fingers touched the warm metal rod and felt the call of the sea at her command; she knew that she could never remain in that garden paradise after knowing such destruction, lest she decimate its beauty. “What about the Mission, Haruka? Were you not always the one who loved the Princess so?” The argument was all wrong, all backwards - shouldn’t she be the one wishing to flee, to escape the destiny she had so loathed?
“My Princess is dead. I have no one left to protect.” Haruka leaned forward, eyes smoldering with heat and intensity as she swore her next words, a devotion deep as prayer falling from her lips. “No one - except you.”
Michiru felt her heart thud and flip wetly in her chest, a combination of joy and confusion that muddled the ability to feel either emotion in its entirety. A reply did not come swiftly, but mercifully she was saved the trouble by a knock from the doorway of her hospital room, Hotaru’s pale fist rapping against the wooden doorframe and lingering there.
Without waiting for an invitation, Hotaru entered. She was followed by Minako, the cadence of her walk almost military, and then Rei, her usual stomping footfalls louder than the rest as she bustled in behind.
“You got everything fixed, right?” Hotaru asked as she stopped at the foot of the bed, crossing her arms impatiently.
“And good morning to you all as well,” Michiru snipped, knowing that perhaps she deserved no niceties but wishing for them all the same, especially from the girl she had once looked after as though she were her own. “Yes, everything is taken care of.”
“Good,” Minako answered, ignoring the snide remark. “Once we get you home, Hotaru has volunteered to use her healing powers on you intermittently. It’ll help the healing happen even faster.”
“Thank you,” she replied frankly, trying to catch Hotaru’s gaze as the younger girl pointedly looked out of the window to her right.
Minako snorted. “Don’t take it as a favor; we need all four of us if we have any chance of taking down Serenity, especially now that she has Mercury with her.”
“Five,” Michiru automatically corrected, also choosing to ignore the slight handed to her, the two exchanging blows in a more intense version of their usual verbal sparring, the training foils replaced with thin, sharp blades that required a deft ballet to dodge.
The three women standing at the bottom of her bed looked at one another with indiscernible expressions before Rei stepped closer to Michiru, eyes fixed firmly on her own. “Michiru, there are four of us.”
Michiru shook her head and looked at Haruka, still sitting in the corner, her expression neutral as she watched the exchange. “Unless the fundamentals of basic mathematics have been altered during my absence, I am counting five. You, Hotaru, Minako, Haruka, and myself.” She punctuated each name by gesturing loosely towards the corresponding woman, their eyes following her movements.
“Shit,” Minako cursed under her breath.
“I told you,” hissed Hotaru at the same time. Rei was silent as she turned to glare at them both, and Minako turned away from the bed, her expression hidden from view. Rei inhaled deeply before perching on the bed next to Michiru, the mattress sagging under her weight.
“Michiru, where’s Haruka?” she asked, her tone that nearly-gentle lilt she sometimes used with Usagi when she was being particularly difficult, a patient schoolteacher imparting a lesson on some unruly child.
She huffed somewhat, unaccustomed to being patronized by anyone, let alone one of very few people that she would consider a friend. “She’s right there,” Michiru indicated, again pointing to the corner where Haruka sat sideways in the chair, her back resting against the wall. “She’s been here since I woke up.”
Rei opened her mouth to say something, but Minako whipped around in a flurry of blonde hair and raised her face up to meet Michiru’s gaze, tears streaming down her cheeks even as her eyes were filled with fury. “Haruka’s dead.”
Michiru felt her heart burst open and drop, hemorrhaging blood and bile into her stomach as it twisted and roiled in her gut. Her eyes moved unbidden to the corner chair, where Haruka was casually engaged in staring at the ceiling. “That’s not possible,” Michiru whispered, the words shaking as her breaths heaved unsteadily.
“Oh, it’s more than possible,” Minako answered coldly, her voice a sword as it was unsheathed, the metallic scraping present over every syllable. “It happened. You didn’t stab the monster; you stabbed Uranus - you stabbed Haruka - instead.” She let out a bitter snort, and it was the sound of the blade pushing through flesh. “You’d think you’d remember killing your own partner.”
Michiru shook her head wildly, hands clenching the hospital sheets as they balled into tight fists at her sides. “Whatever idea of a joke you are presenting, it is not funny, Minako,” she hissed, never taking her eyes off of Haruka, almost afraid that if she looked away, the woman would disappear into the wind.
Rei took hold of her hand and Michiru startled slightly at the contact, her gaze moving to the woman on her bed instinctively. The hand squeezed hers carefully, avoiding the IV line, and all Michiru could focus on was the fact that Rei’s middle finger’s nail polish was chipped, a piece of the red missing to reveal the pale pink underneath, naked and exposed. “She’s telling the truth, Michiru,” Rei said in tones almost hushed enough to be a whisper, a sort of pleading in her eyes that Michiru pretended not to see as she looked back to the chair where Haruka still sat, handsome and smiling and real.
“I told you we should have run away together,” Haruka murmured sadly, a wry grin on her face. She pulled a perfectly red apple from her pocket and took a bite, letting the juices run down her chin.
#DUN DUN DUN#my writing#commissioned work#sittingoverheredreaming#fanfiction#sailor moon#michiru kaioh#sailor neptune#haruka tenoh#sailor uranus#hotaru tomoe#sailor saturn#rei hino#sailor mars#minako aino#sailor venus#character death mention#i have been SO EXCITED to write this part#y'all do not even KNOW
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Dom(me)s Aren’t Built In a Day: Johnny Vers. (M)
Pairing: Johnny X Reader
Features: Choking/Breath play, restraints, spanking/paddling, cock rings, Switch!Johnny, bratty behavior, oral sex/69, light scratching/biting, rough sex, established relationship and some fluffy shit because i couldn’t resist
Genre: Slight Angst, Smut.
Word Count: 7.3k
A/N: So I kinda got carried away with this one. And i was going to make Johnny a sub all the way but the story took it’s own course. Anon I really hope you like this because i love it! I’m so much better writing kink than fluff lol. Thanks Anon <3
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My hands slid underneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the warm skin and firm muscles underneath. I dug my nails in ever so slightly when his hand grabbed my ass forcing me closer to his body. I sighed softly into his kiss, wanting more and hungry to feel him deeper.
“You wanna go to the bedroom?” I smirked as i laid open mouth kisses on his neck.
“I guess…”
He guessed?? “What do you mean you guess?”i asked.
He shrugged and diverted his eyes. “If you wanna…”
“Well it's not really consensual if you dont want to.”
“I'll do it for you.”
I pushed Johnny off of me and got up from the couch. “Just say you fuckin’ dont want to. Damn.”
It had been like this. For weeks now. Apathetic, mediocre. Trying to get a groove back that seemed to have faded already. We had been dating for almost a whole year now, and when it first began it was like we set the whole world ablaze. Every moment with him was ecstatic and filled me with feelings of lust, love, and happiness all at once. Yet lately it seemed like he didn't even want to touch me. I was shocked when he initiated the make out session, even a little turned on to be grinding on the couch like horny teenagers. But even that little bit of a spark disappeared within minutes. And now I knew for sure that he was just doing it to try and please me. Not that him rutting unenthusiastically into me made it feel good.
I had plenty of thoughts running through me head. Was he cheating? Did he fall out of love with me? Was he sick? Medical issue? Depression? He wasn't talking to me and that made me even more worried. How did we even get to this point?
I went over to his bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed. A few moments later he was in the doorway, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I'm sorry…” He said quietly. He was hiding behind his dark brown bangs, shyer than he normally was.
“What is going on with you? You're never like this and you wont talk to me about anything! When did that start happening?” i let out a frustrated sighed as my mind went to that place again. “Are you….are you cheating on me?”
Johnny’s head snapped up instantly. “What? No! Fuck no! I would never. Why would you think that?”
“I DONT KNOW! You’re not talking! Tell me what's going on then!” i couldn't help the angered tone in my voice.
“It's nothing! Nothing's wrong i just…” He shrugged. “I guess I'm in a funk or something. I don't know. I was hoping it would go away but it hasn't.” He rubbed the back of his neck and groaned. “Dont worry about it ok? I'll figure it out.”
“Figure it out…” I scoffed. “So you've been ‘figuring it out’ by yourself for weeks and you've become reclusive and it feels like you're repulsed by me.”
“Don't be so fucking dramatic. I'm not repulsed by you. Nothing wrong with you. Just let me do this by myself.”
“Fine.” I got up from the bed and pushed past him. “You can call me whenever you ‘figure it out’.” i rushed to grab my bag and keys from by the couch and went over to the door.
“Yeah, thanks for being understanding!!” He screamed after me. “Selfish ass!!”
I guess I was being selfish. It wasn't really about the sex...part of it was of course but what the hell was he hiding? I had spent various nights crying, going days without a call or text, even though he was posting his photography on instagram. It seemed like he was going on without me. That was until one night he finally broke the silent vow that had manifested between us.
“I'm sorry. I really wanna see you. I miss you.” i heard him breathe into the phone.
“Are you drunk?” i sighed.
“Yeah but it's fine. I know what i'm saying. Come over.”
“I'm not going over while you're drunk. Where even are you?” I could hear loud noises in the background and people screaming over each other.
“Out. Please. Meet me at my place. You still have the key dont you?”
“Yeah but-”
“Let me fuck you.”
No. That was bad. Very very very bad. And i should not go over there. I got up and grabbed my keys, swiftly putting on my shoes and making a terrible decision.
When i got to his place he was already pushing me against the door, his mouth overwhelming mine and hands roaming everywhere. I was clawing at his clothes, practically tearing them away. He looked amazing. Tight jeans that accentuated his firm ass, black shirt that was now tossed aside and heated muscles that drove me to open my legs instantly. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to the bedroom, pushing me onto the bed and crawling on top of me. My breaths were coming out so hard that my lungs were starting to burn. The only thing i could think about was him making me cum. Just please make me cum. Ive missed you so much, Johnny. So much.
I couldnt say what i was thinking. I was too busy pulling him closer to the heat between my thighs, wanting to ride his face until the sun came up. My hand was digging into his scalp while his were on my breasts, squeezing and kneading as he rained kisses over my lower stomach. I shoved off my sweatpants and panties, eliciting a growl from his hungry lips. “Fuck Johnny….please.”
He grabbed my hips with a smirk, yanking me towards him and moving up to swallow my lips again in sinful twists and turns of his tongue. “I'll get to you in a minute, baby i promise.”
I whimpered wantonly. “Don't keep me waiting. Ive missed you so much.”
He licked my lips and groaned. “Fuck, me too. You feel so damn good and i'm not even inside you yet.” He trailed his lips to my neck biting down hard against the sensitive skin as his denim clad cock ground into my center. My hands raked up his back, stopping right at the base of his neck. I arched into him, returning the rolls of his hips as gasps of pleasure fell from me. “Choke me.”
I stopped then and there. “What?”
“Choke me. For the love of god, fuckin’ choke me.” He took my hand in his, placing it on his neck as his eyes sealed shut, waiting.
I pulled away, sitting up slightly. “Johnny! That's dangerous!”
“No, it"s fine. Please just do it. It'll get me off.”
My eyes went wide and i scrambled away from him. “I-i cant do that. That's just…”
“Why not? It's easy. Just do it.”
“You could stop breathing! I'm not gonna kill you.”
“Exactly! It wont kill me! You're not gonna hurt me. Just…” He looked at me, eyes dark and pleading.
“I cant. Im sorry. I...i knew this was a bad idea. I have to go.” i quickly grabbed my pants and pulled them on. He didnt even try to stop me. He just sat there, head hung low and hand clenched around the sheets. I rushed out of there fast, my heart still racing with nervousness. I had never been asked that before and for Johnny to even suggest that...was that what he was wanting before? Why he was so distant? I just...i couldn't do that to him no matter how badly he wanted it. My heart hurt now...maybe we werent exactly made for each other after all.
--
A month had passed and we still were barely talking. I wasnt ready to move on but...maybe it was time. He was on my mind everyday and i also continuously wondered if maybe he had found someone else. Someone who could do what he wanted. We had arranged to meet at his place again. I was going to get my things and probably break it off for good. As I drove to his apartment i willed myself not to start crying. I had to be strong. This was for the best. Maybe not for me but maybe for him. In my head I tried to convince myself that I wanted him to be happy even if it was with someone else. But it wasn't really working.
When i got to the front door and knocked there was no answer. He knew I was coming...he had to be home. I sent him a text and waited. Minutes passed and still no answer. I still had the key to his place -i had planned to give it back to him today- but i didnt want to burst in there. It seemed rude now since we were so distant. But he still wasn't answering. I reluctantly set the key in the lock and went inside. The place was dark, there was only a dim light coming from his bedroom. “Johnny?” I called out.
Still no response. Now i was starting to get worried. I went over to his bedroom, the door wide open, and i could see him lying in bed fully naked with his cock in his fist. His laptop was beside him and his headphones in his ears which would explain why he hadn't heard anything. My face was bright red and i panicked. I had no idea if I should stop him or not. I almost didn't want to. He looked so...damn good. The way his chest was rising and falling, his legs tensing and hips bucking with each pass of his hand over the tip of his cock. I dared to step a little closer to him and i noticed the video that was playing on his laptop. Of course it was porn but stuff that we had never watched together. The man was tied up, rope decorating his skin in intricate patterns, his mouth gagged shut and a blindfold over his eyes. There were marks all over his backside, most likely the branding from the tall amazonesque women dressed in latex behind him. She was holding a thin rod of what looked like maybe wood in her gloved hands and he was begging her for more. She complied, landing another hard whip from the cane making him cry out. When the wood landed on skin, Johnny's body tensed, his breath hiccuping for a moment before he licked the dryness from his lips. His cock was leaking now, the sound of wet skin on skin coming to my ears.
I swallowed hard and reached out to him, setting my hand on his sweat slicked chest. His eyes shot open and he jumped up quickly, yanking the headphones out his ears and slamming the laptop shut. “Jesus!! Dont you knock!?” he pulled a pillow over his lap and glared up at me.
“I did!! I knocked, i texted you, and i called out to you! You're the one with headphones jacking off to…that stuff…”
His face flushed a bit and he got up from him bed trying to making his way over to his bathroom. “Why are you here?!”
“We agreed for me to come over and get my stuff! Don't you remember?”
He groaned. “Shit...that was today?”
“I thought that's what we said!” i shifted my feet a bit. “Sorry, i came in with the key. I didnt want to but you didnt answer and...well…”
He pushed his hair back briefly wiping the sweat from his forehead. “It's fine...it's my fault. Um…” He looked down at the pillow that he was clutching tighter. “I'm gonna uh...you know.”
“Finish?”
“What?! N-no! I mean not while you're here now! That's like...weird.” He said.
“Why? I mean I know why but i've seen your dick like...hundreds of times.”
“Yeah but we're…”
“What are we exactly?” I asked.
He looked down at his feet. “I dont know. I thought you hated me.”
“Hate? No! I thought that...i thought a lot of things. I thought you didnt want to be with me because i was scared to choke you. I thought that maybe sex was that important to you and then it made me feel like shit.”
“i felt like shit when you thought it was weird. And i'm sorry about the choking thing. Me being drunk and springing it on you wasn't the best way to go about it. I'm glad we didn't have sex that night.” He replied.
“Me too.” i nodded before glancing back at his laptop. “I really miss you Johnny. Like it hurts so bad to not be around you. And if...this stuff is important to you i'm willing to at least try it.”
His eyes snapped up to me. “R-really? You really don't have to. I dont want to make you uncomfortable. I guess this is what we’re struggling with anyway.”
“I am uncomfortable but...maybe you can teach me and we can try stuff?” I nibbled my lip a bit. “You looked really hot listening to it...just saying.”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Thanks...um…” He leaned in a bit placing a soft kiss on my lips. I smiled and looked up at him.
“So do I spank you and call you a bad boy now?”
He nodded. “That would be kinda nice.”
“Do I say mean things to you?” I asked fumbling over the thoughts in my head and just spitting them out.
“No, i'm not into degradation, just control. Or lack thereof. You're in control. You command me essentially.”
“Command you?” I thought for a moment. “Like get on your knees and eat me out?”
“Right now?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
I cleared my throat. “If you dont i'll...spank you.”
He smiled which made me cover my face. “Im sorry! I'm trying!”
“No, no. It's okay. I appreciate it. You're so cute.”
I set my face in his chest, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Am i supposed to sound scary? Like how am I supposed to do it?”
He kissed the top of my head. “Not for nothing but we can watch some stuff together. Its a bit exaggerated but you'll get the gist of it.”
“Watch porn...together?”
“Nothing more romantic, am i right?” He laughed and nodded towards his bed. “C’mon.”
I took off my sweatshirt and jeans, tossing them away with my shoes and climbed into bed with him. He sat up against his headboard, setting the laptop on the pillow and opening it back up.
“Ok,” I held onto his arm and exhaled. “Let do this.”
--
Oh god. I could see why he wanted this so bad. Never in my life had i seen anything so lustful and sensual than my small hands wrapped around Johnny's throat. His full lips were parted, only being able to let out small raspy gasps as his chest tried to compensate for the lack of air. I held his life in my hands, which in of itself was the most powerful thing i had ever felt. My thumbs pressed into his adams apple and his hand instantly grabbed the top of the headboard to steady himself while i rode his cock like I was never going to see him again. And when he came -Jesus- when he came it was like a whole new world had opened and we were the only ones in it. My whole body tensed, convulsed, clenched around him as his cum filled me. He had arched against me, making my nails dig into his skin before he tapped my wrist quickly. I let go instantly and he gasped in air in huge gulps, coughing just a bit.
“A-are you o-okay?” i stammered as i still felt my legs shaking on either side of his hips.
He nodded, coughing into his elbow and struggling to regain his breath. I bit my lip now worried that i had done something wrong. “Johnny!”
He waved me off, giving me a thumbs up before he finished his coughing fit. “FUCK!” he wiped the back of his mouth. “Damn...that was-”
“Did it hurt? Are you ok? I'm sorry, God i’m so sorry. I was caught up in the-”
He interrupted me like i had done to him except it was with a hard kiss. He pulled me down to him, kissing me deeply and desperately. When he pulled away I was almost lightheaded from the intensity. “You're amazing. Like...incredibly amazing.”
“You've never cum like that before. I um…” I looked down at our bodies still connected and the bit of stickiness that was slowly sliding out of me. “It was a lot...and really….wow.”
“Yeah...wow is...one way to describe it. Can we do it again?” He smirked.
“Right now? Are you sure? I think I marked your neck though.” I blushed.
He bit his lip in his charmingly awkward way. “Hell. Yes.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pushed me down to the bed, attacking my neck and chest with kisses and bites making me giggle.
“Johnny! Wait!” I squirmed beneath him, trying to still his nibbles and licks. Him laughing against my neck tickled even more until I was almost in tears. “Stop!” He didn't, even when i begged but an idea popped into my head amidst my giggles. I landed a hard smack against his ass using as much force as i could given my position beneath him. He stopped instantly, clutching my sides roughly. “When I say stop what do you think that means?”
“Stop, ma'am.”
“Ma'am?” I mulled it over. I didn't think I was a Mistress or Mommy or Queen or anything just yet. Besides some of those titles still made me squeamish.
“Would you want me to call you something else?” he asked, head still bowed and buried in my neck.
“No. I like that. Say it again.”
“Yes ma'am.”
I smirked feeling the sense of power return. “Good boy. I think you should bend over now.”
--
~2 years later~
“Why are you mad at me? You're the one who walked out on me!” Johnny yelled once we got into our shared apartment.
“Because I don't like public proposals and you did it right in front of everyone!”
“It was a surprise engagement party!”
“I still dont like that! It puts me on the spot and it makes me have anxiety and it forces me to say yes!”
“So you dont want to say yes?” He looked at me confused and full of hurt.
“No, i mean...i just...can i think about it?!”
“Think about it? We've been together for so long already! What is there to think about?!”
“I dont know! I mean...divorce rates, family shit, insurance, an entire fucking wedding that we cant afford! A stupid dress that i'm only going to wear once and costs like a quarter of my college debt.”
“And all of that was enough to make you walk out on me? Really?”
“I just have to think about it, ok?!”
“Think about it on the couch then.” He walked into our bedroom-the one that used to belong to him and only him- and slammed the door shut. I sighed, angrily kicking off my heels and plopping down on the sofa. My arms crossed as my stubbornness was kicking in. I wasnt apologizing. I hated crowds and when he got down on one knee in front of our friends my anxiety went into over drive and i panicked. I had run outside, my emotions a terrible melting pot of odds and ends. I didnt come back to the party. It ended horribly. That was when we drove home in a tense silence that had exploded as soon as we stepped foot into our home.
I thought back to the first year of our relationship. How hot and cold we were because of all the changes we were going through. It was so distant and painful. I didnt want to go through that again. That was when the giddiness hit. He had proposed, completely unexpected and while i almost had an anxiety attack at our surprise engagement party….he had actually proposed. Like PROPOSED. I covered my face with my hands and felt the heat rising all the way to the tips of my ears. I never thought that would happen ever. It hadnt even crossed my mind before. I was so focused on building my business and living our life as a couple who lived together that I hadnt thought that far. A piece of paper and a ring wouldnt change how i felt about him but he had clearly thought it through. Enough to do a party after all.
Oh Johnny. This is why even though I controlled you, you had me wrapped around your finger tight.
I got up and unzipped my form hugging dress, stepping out of it and kicking it out the way. I went over to the bedroom, knocking gently before stepping in. He ignored me, opting to keep his eyes glued to his phone. His blazer was strewn on the bed, tie and top buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows while his hair escaped the hold his pomade had on it. “Johnny…” I called out softly.
His thumb flicked over the phone screen, his eyes following the scrolling blue and white masses of texts and photos. I crawled onto the bed and sat behind him, rubbing my hands over his shoulder. He smacked them away quickly. “Dont.”
“I'm sorry.” I began, placing a kiss on the back of his neck. “I didn't mean to upset you. I panicked.” I wrapped my arms around his ribcage and held him tight.
He sighed and set his phone on the night stand. “Do you really not want to get married? Honestly i'll return the damn ring and get myself a camera.”
I turned his face towards mine and kissed his full lips gently. “Let me think about it ok? Please?” I didn't give him much of a chance to respond as i deepened the kiss little by little, pushing him back onto the bed. He let out a small grunt and i assumed it was because he was mad at himself for being persuaded so easily. But i've always had that effect on him. While our tongues were clashing with one another i drew my hand up to his neck, gently running my hands over one of his most sensitive areas. He jerked at the touch at first, knowing what it meant and the possibilities for the night. He pulled away ever so slightly, his warm breath coating my lips as he panted.
“Ma'am?” he asked tentatively.
“Mhm…” I nodded in response, letting the switch set off between us as our dynamics changed. He wasn't just my sweet, loving, awkwardly goofy boyfriend anymore. He was my pet, my submissive- the one who catered to my every desire to enact my power over him, to see him crumble beneath me, begging helplessly.
“I'm still mad at you.” He said softly.
“I know.” I gripped his neck, adding pressure right against his adam's apple. His breath stilled for a moment as i slid my legs over his lap, straddling him. “That's why I'm making it up to you. Or at least trying to. Will you let me?”
His hand fell to my hip which he squeezed twice-our signal for yes. I smiled down at him dragging my eyes to the tie that hung loosely from his neck. Improvise. I let go of his throat momentarily- much to his dismay- and undid the tie. The shirt came next, a slow tease of testing his patience as I undid each button placing kisses on each new exposed area of skin. I untucked the shirt from his pants, opening a new area across his stomach to litter with kisses and a few harsh bites just to keep him on his toes. He was usually a quiet sub until he started begging and only let out a few hisses when i bit into him. My eyes drifted up to him- he was watching me intensely, wondering where i would go next- before looking down at the zipper of his dress pants.
I ignored it for now, shuffling down to remove his shoes and socks instead. He was shifting in the bed, fingers flexing around the bed sheets as he became raptured by every move I was making. I suppose it did help that i was in nothing but a sheer bra and panty set. I had planned that way before our fight, thinking we would have a chance to slip away in the middle of the party, but at least my plan came back around full circle. “Now dont move. Stay right where i left you.” I commanded before I left him in the bed and retreated to our closet. Behind all the clothes and totes and shoes was our little box of secrets- well, over the years the size of the box had increased as our collection grew and we learned how one another worked. I pulled it out, rifling through the goodies to find exactly what i was looking for. When i turned back to the bed Johnny had removed his shirt and unzipped his pants which instantly made my brow furrow.
“Did I ask you to do that?” i gripped the base of the paddle i now had in my hand tighter.
He licked his lips and swallowed hard. “N-no but I thought-”
“You thought...huh. last time I checked your job isnt to think, it's to do what i say.” I bound over to him, grabbed the tie from the bed and pinned his wrists together, securing them in a bowline knot, making sure it was tight enough that his big hands wouldn't slip through. “On your knees. Now.”
“Yes ma'am.” He shifted onto his hands and knees, ass raised in the air. I always loved seeing him like this. Especially because his ass was so cute, even cuter when covered in bruises and hand marks too.
“Hold onto the headboard and dont move.”
He followed my order while i yanked his dress pants down along with his black boxer briefs, exposing him completely. I bit my lip, trying to stifle my giggle as i still saw faint traces of the bruises I had left on him a couple weeks ago. He was definitely due for some more. I picked up the paddle once more, turning it over and running my fingers over the leather that covered it and the icy steel grommets along the edges. I could see his shoulder blades tensing in anticipation, making his back muscles ripple. God, he looked so good. I stepped a bit closer to him, rearing my hand back and landing a hard slap across his cheeks with the paddle. He pursed his lips together, trying to suppress a groan from deep within his chest.
“What was that?” i asked, rubbing the leather across the bright red sting.
“N-nothing ma'am.” He replied through grit teeth as his head dipped.
“You know i prefer you quiet unless your begging, right?”
“Yes ma'am.” i watched his fingers grip the headboard tighter and smirked.
I brought the paddle down again for another loud thwack. His entire body lurched forward, his ankles crossing over each other sending the tension to his calves. There was no sound from him except his heavy breathing that was slowly starting to shift into raggedness. I switched from using the paddle to rub against him to my hands, trailing my nails over the burning skin. The light scratches were enough to make him squirm, his stomach dipping towards the mattress. I dragged my nails up the base of his tailbone trailing all the way up his spine. I heard the faintest of curses under his breath which made me chuckle. I pressed my index and middle finger under his chin and tilted his head up towards me. “You're purposefully being a brat now arent you?”
His eyes were hooded, long lashes fluttering as his lips parted to say something but he thought better of it. “If you think this is your punishment then you've got another thing coming, baby boy. Trust me i've got something much worse planned for you.”
I dropped my touch from him and slithered back to the box grabbing the thing he loved to hate the most. It was small and simple yet dangerous and carried the weight of torture within its expanding walls. I grabbed the girth of his hips and yanked him back to me. Johnny complied until my hands were over his semi soft cock, sliding on the cock ring over his shaft, making a slight twist in the silicone to wrap around his balls as well. “What?! No!” He hissed.
“Ooh, you're back talking me today too? I definitely won't be taking it easy on you now.” I pressed a heated kiss against his neck, kissing up to his ear before biting against his earlobe. “Get back into position.”
He nodded meekly, returning his hands to the headboard. Now he knew he was in punishment territory and there wasn't any turning back. I may have wanted to make it up to him so he wouldn't be mad at me but there was still a teensy part of me that was angry that he embarrassed me and sent me into a panic. I gave him no warning, mimicking the way he sprung that loaded question me, and slammed the paddle into him again. The indentation of the grommets were starting to form on his skin like fiery o's. I gave him little room to breathe within the next few hits, making sure every inch of his backside was covered in some sort of sordid mark. He was holding up better than he normally did though his knuckles were white and tensed around the headboard. His toes were digging into the sheets as he rocked himself slowly, trying to ease off the heavy burn in his flesh. I propped myself by the headboard, setting the paddle on the nightstand “Hi honey,” I said in a bit of a mocking tone. He lifted his head, eyes falling on me instantly. “You ok?”
He could only groan, a bit of irritation and aggravation hidden within. “Hmm just...peachy.”
I looked down between his legs at his newly formed erection that was already struggling against the cock ring. I giggled and pet his hair back gently, narrowly escaping his teeth as he attempted to bite me.
“Oohh, my baby boy's feisty. Should i just leave you here like this for another hour? Not even touching you? Or maybe i should make you watch me touch myself while you stay trapped in this cock ring.” His eyes lowered into angry slits but he said nothing. “Or I could touch you...edge you...make you scream your begs until your lungs burn? Yeah. I think i like the sound of that more.”
Johnny pursed his lips together hard. His mind was working on processing the upcoming plans and possibly on a way to give me the cold shoulder later on while i got to work on tossing his pants off completely and shoving him against the headboard. I swung my legs over his hips, getting into our favorite position. He looked up at me, his still bound hands freezing right before he attempted to touch me. He knew he was teetering on a fine line and wasn't going to push it just yet. I grabbed his hands and pinned them above his head while my hips hovered above his straining cock. His eyes stayed locked onto the small gap of space between our heat waiting for the first brush of contact. I let him have it, gliding the mesh fabric of my panties over his cock, circling my hips slightly when my clit met his head.
Johnny swallowed back a gasp biting his lip hard to keep himself steady. I fell into a slow and easy rhythm of rocking my hips against him, the thin fabric between us adding just a bit more friction and sending my nerves ablaze. I was focusing on rubbing my clit against his head, feeling his pre cum seep onto his stomach. The grip i had on his wrists tightened, my breath becoming a rough staccato. Meanwhile, Johnny was trying to increase the painful grind, digging his hips up into me. “Please…”
God, that perfect little beg always drove me crazy. He knew it to. Hed pout out his full lips, lick them so they'd glisten and entice me more and toss his head back, exposing his neck for choking, biting or both. And just when i would let go of his wrist hed try and touch me. I knew his game and he wasn't going to win this time. “Please? Please what, Johnny? Use your words.” I sunk my teeth into his neck, pulling blood to the surface and creating a deep mark. He arched up against me, letting out a soft hiss that turned into a strangled groan. I edged my hips up his torso, letting his cockhead press ever so slightly against my entrance.
“Fuck! Please, baby…let me fuck you.”
“Hmm, absolutely not.” I lowered my head to lick at his lips, tracing my tongue over his top lip and giving it a sweet kiss. He reached his tongue out to meet mine, sucking it slowly into his mouth and humming around it. I pulled away just to tease him and he arched his head towards mine, lips parted and willing to accept another kiss. I let go of one of his wrists-being sure to keep a tight grip on the tie- and wrapped my hand around his neck, keeping him pinned to the headboard. A faint whimper escaped him.
“Please ma'am, i'll be good to you. You just-” he tried reach for my kiss again but i tightened my hold on his throat. “You just…” He swallowed back and i could feel the struggle against my palm. “Untie me a-and I can-”
“Quiet. Im gonna make you put your mouth to better use.” I wiggled away from him, sliding my panties off as Johnny excitedly slid down so his head rested on the pillow. I resumed my position on him, my knees now on either side of his head. “Get to work, brat.”
He nodded and pressed his lips against my heat, already prying his tongue through my folds as he growled hungrily against me. He swirled his tongue against my clit before sucking it fully into his mouth. My head fell back and i closed my eyes reveling in the hot wet sucks and kisses he gifted me with. I edged myself forward commanding his tongue to flick into my eager hole. I wanted some form of release myself. Seeing him tied up and spanking him always made my hormones rush into overdrive. I was trying to stay strong but the way he was drinking down every bit of my slick heat had my thighs quivering. I shifted my hips into quick bounces, making sure he would dig his tongue into me, that was until i felt it disappear. I looked down at him angrily. “Did I tell you to stop?”
“N-no ma’am but...a-ahh it hurts.” I rolled my eyes and looked back at his cock that was making a mess all over his stomach. It was bright red and aching, crying out for attention. “Please? Just a little?” He gave my lower lips a few tender kisses, his chocolate brown puppy dog eyes getting to me. I grumbled angrily and accepted his little conquest before adjusting myself so my stomach pressed against his chest in a sixty-nine.
I lapped at the precum that had settled between the grooves of his abs, trying to hide the coy little moan i let out as soon as i tasted him. I trailed my tongue up to his slit, digging the tip in just enough to get him squirming. Meanwhile, my nails raked along his shaft, tracing veins that pulsated with each tantalizing stroke. Johnny pressed his hips up, just a minimal inch, trying to get me to take him into my mouth and i gave in. My lips wrapped around his head enveloping him in heated pulls. I felt his fingers wrap around my ass, pulling me closer while his thumbs spread my hole wide. His tongue resumed its rightful place inside me carving out patterns against my walls.
I swallowed hard around him, trying to get my mind to focus on his torture when all i could really think about was my pleasure. I rocked myself slowly, my mouth slurping him down each time i went forward and his tongue disappearing inside me when i went back. His deep moans were vibrating against my lips making me clench around him and i returned the sentiment. His cock throbbed against my palm as i stroked what i couldnt fit in my mouth edging him even further. My free hand slipped between this thick thighs to grab at his balls giving him a rough squeeze. His hips jerked roughly slamming his cock to the back of my throat and i harshly landed a slap against him before pulling away. “Johnny.” I growled.
He let out a deep groan as more precum leaked from his slit. I bit at his thigh harshly, gripping his balls even tighter. He cursed against my folds and his nails dug into me. He called out to me, my title thrown away, as he pleaded for me to release him. I glared back at him.
“You want it bad don't you? You're a mess baby boy.” I said. “You want this gone?” I tugged at the ring of silicone that was suffocating him. He nodded profusely, wiping away the sweat that beaded across his forehead.
“Please….” He whispered huskily. I bit my lip as his deep voice cut right through me. I undid the tie and carefully eased off the cock ring from around him. He let out a sigh of relief before covering my back and shoulders with kisses. “Thank you. Hmm...can i fuck you now ma'am?”
“You better make up for you being an impatient brat.”
“Maybe you can make up for being such a shithead then.” He chuckled.
Before i could even argue he pushed me flat on my back, my head dangling off the edge of the bed. Any protest i was going to make dissolved into a loud cry as i felt his swollen cock shove into me. My walls stretched and swallowed him down greedily. He wasted no time in slamming into me over and over creating a swirling fire in the pit of my stomach. My hands reached for him, wanting to pull him closer to me but he pinned them to my side. From over the swell of my breasts i could see him watching every movement my body made beneath him. Though he had a crushing grip on my wrists my fingers dug into the sheets trying to find a way to stabilize myself. “F-fuck! Johnny!!” I cried as my back arched against him.
He had never been this hungry for me before. Begging, whiny, and submissive yes but this was...I wanted more. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his lower back as i panted out my own pleads. Johnny finally blessed me with heavy kisses on my neck pairing it with slithering licks. I turned my head towards his trying to capture his lips but he pulled away quickly as if i had burned him. “No.”
No? My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean no?! Give me my kiss.”
“Now who's being a brat?” He smirked. His hips were slamming into me even harder. I could hear the harsh slapping of skin on skin that mixed in with his heavy pants and groans. I tried wiggling out of his grasp but it was no use. Blood was rushing to my head making my entire body feel like it was floating. I could hear my heart thundering in my ears, pouding louder and louder to match each of Johnny's thrusts that dug into me. I arched against him, my body begging for him to aim towards my spot. Just when the head of his cock brushed against the place i desired most he pulled away and i almost screamed. He was testing me and possibly this was his way of getting revenge on me too.
He flipped me over pressing me face down, ass up, his hand gripping the back of my neck firmly. When he reinserted himself into me i felt every pleasure point ignited. My eyes rolled back as my mouth stayed in a permanent moan, my fingers digging into the edge of the mattress. My ass rocked back against him as i felt my impending orgasm approaching. He was relentless and unending and i felt like i was going to snap in half at any minute. The pressure he was putting on my neck strangled my breathing, my chest struggling to expand but it drove me wild. I could finally feel what he had felt; the feeling of abandoning control, of trusting someone so deeply and feeling your entire body slipping away to a space of heightened pleasure.
And as my explosive orgasm hit me i sunk my teeth into the edge of the bed, screaming my sins out. A rush of heat seeped inside me as Johnny bottomed me out with a final thrust. His grip loosened on my neck but i didnt move. It was like i was frozen against him. I felt him place kisses against me, crawling up to my face where he hovered above me so i wouldnt be crushed under his tall frame. “You okay?”
“Yeah….yeah…”
“You sure?” i felt his bangs brush against my shoulder as he kissed my cheek. I nodded and swallowed hard. We shifted slowly so we laid on our backs beside each other staring up at the ceiling as our breaths returned to normalcy.
“So….” he said.
“So…”
“I think i might be a switch.”
“I think i might be ready to marry you.”
We both looked at each other quizzically having said two completely different statements at the same time.
“What?” we said again before laughing.
He turned onto his said to face me. “Did you say you're ready to marry me?”
“Maybe.” I buried my face in his chest, trying to avoid looking at him. “What's this shit about you wanting to switch?!”
“Dont change the subject!” He pulled me away from him forcing me to look up. “You serious?”
“Yeah….i mean if you want to be a switch and do...all of the shit you just did now you damn right we're getting married.” I said.
“So you're just in it for the sex, huh?” He nudged me playfully.
I cupped his face in my hands. “Of course not. I have to deal with you tripping over your own feet, and constantly recording me or taking unflattering photos of me, and you whining when i have to fix your photography website because you messed up the html code yet again, and you sending me cryptic messages because you don't know how to send a text without it sounding ominous. And if i hated all of that i would've left you by now. But the dick is a plus.”
“Ehh, you're pretty decent yourself.” He smiled at me. “Especially when you're getting fucked out from behind.” he placed a slow heated kiss on my lips, teasing me with licks and pulling away like i had done to him. “You'd make a cute sub.”
“Easy now, hotshot. I didn't get the hang of it instantly and you definitely wont either. Doms aren't built in a day you know.”
“I know that but-” His hand wrapped around my neck, his thumb tilting my head up to his. “I'm gonna have fun learning.”
#johnny#johnny nct#nct 127#nct fanfiction#nct 127 fanfiction#johnny suh#johnny seo#nct fanf#nct 127 fanfic#requests
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Coronation of Anne Boleyn
Anne Boleyn emerged from the Tower of London at 5pm on Saturday the 31st of May 1535. She had spent the previous days in the queen’s chambers in the Tower. According to contemporary sources, the last day of spring was bright and warm, and the sky was an unbroken azure, spreading out above Anne in a serene canopy. It must have seemed to her that nature itself foreshadowed her success as the soon to be Queen of England and Henry VIII’s wife.

Anne was dressed in the French fashion. The coronation procession from the Tower was en-route for Westminster. It was headed by twelve servants of the new French ambassador to England – Jean de Dinteville, who was King François I’s maître d’hôtel. This illustrates Anne’s pro-French preferences, which her numerous foes considered unpatriotic, calling her a Frenchwoman. This, nevertheless, was true in many aspects because Anne loved France, French culture and fashions.
Then appeared the gentlemen of the royal household, who were by tradition the eyes and ears of the reigning monarch whom they served. Next came the nine judges clad in their scarlet gowns and hoods, followed by the Knights of the Bath. Then moved the state council, the ecclesiastical magnates, and the peers of the realm. At last, behind them emerged the queen’s fabulous litter.

Eric Ives describes Anne’s appearance and her attire:
“She {Anne} was dressed in filmy white, with a coronet of gold. The litter was of white satin, with ‘white cloth of gold’ inside and out, and its two palfreys were clothed to the ground in white damask. In ravishing contrast was the queen’s dark hair, flowing loose, down to her waist. Over her was a canopy of cloth of gold held up by the barons of the Cinque Ports. Then came her own palfrey, also trapped in white. Twelve ladies in crimson velvet rode behind.”
Several more riders and carriages, as well as thirty gentlewomen on horseback, each of them richly attired, were followed by the king’s guard in two files, one on both sides of the street. All of the servants in the livery of their masters or mistresses were at the end of the long procession. Most definitely, many of them did not support Anne and viewed her as the usurper of Catherine’s place in the king’s affections, but they participated in the coronation out of duty and fear, for they would find themselves on the receiving end of the king’s wrath. And Anne was truly magnificent!

Observers reported that some notable people were missing in the cortege. Neither the king’s sister, Princess Mary Tudor, nor her daughter, Frances, was present, nor Lady Elizabeth Stafford, Duchess of Norfolk. Anne’s step-grandmother – Agnes Howard née Tilney, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk – rode in one of the carriages, along with either Anne’s mother, Lady Elizabeth Boleyn, Countess of Wiltshire, or Margaret Wotton, Dowager Marchioness of Dorset. However, the absences of the king’s sister and her daughter, Frances, can be easily discounted: Princess Mary Tudor had suffered from consummation for months and was very ill at the time of the coronation, while her daughter was barely out of childhood. The Duchess of Norfolk could have chosen to stay away from her ruthless husband, from whom she had separated in 1534 after their notorious quarrel. Thomas More, another doubter, was also missing, as he deliberately refused to attend.
For the inhabitants of London, this was their first glimpse of the scandalous, extraordinary woman who had changed the life of the country. For Anne, the coronation procession was her first chance to see the reaction of the English people to her new station. Hostile accounts disparaged everything: according to a report that reached the Imperial court in Brussels, the crowds did not cheer and take their hats and toques off when Anne passed. Some say that later, Anne complained to Henry about the cold reception with gloomy throngs on the streets. At the same time, Eric Ives thinks that spectators were ‘more curious than either welcoming or hostile’, so perhaps the most negative things from the coronation reports should be given little credit to.

Disappointed by their reaction, Anne must have felt a blend of dejection, anxiety, pride, and triumph. Regardless of their opinion of her, her beloved Hal chose her to be his queen, and soon she would give the country a long-awaited male heir. Anne was heavily pregnant at the time of the coronation, and I can imagine her placing a hand on her swollen stomach, hidden by her gown, as she thought of a Tudor prince she presumably carried. Defiance was one of her most controversial qualities, and she had committed her first act of defiance of social norms years ago, when she had accepted the monarch’s marriage proposal while Henry was still married to Catherine of Aragon. As she contemplated the sullen people who did not want her to be their queen, she probably decided that if defiance was her destiny, she would be defiant again against all the rules if necessary.
What shall this day bring to me, June?
A brilliance with every summer hue:
The cloud-white dream of happiness,
Shot with the primrose sunshine through…
Or shall my coronation bring me pain,
People do not want me, their stillness say it,
The day will see me crowned despite them,
Yet, making ancient rhyme of lovers sore,
As if my joy is dead, my sadness lingers yet.
Oh, Henry! They love you, their dear prince,
Will you work to make them favor me too?
Some say your love is like a flight of doves –
With wanton wings, with promises and ways,
But flashing white against the sky only to die.
You may love, and sigh, and soon forget?!
I do not believe! You are my Hal forever!
A thousand roses will blossom red for us,
And a thousand hearts will be gay, I pray,
For the summer of love lingers just ahead,
And our boy is on his way to a Golden age,
Fate will have him born in autumn for us.
The moon and the stars will weave new spells
Of love – for my Hal, for me, and for our boy,
The music of marriage bells will sound to us.
Oh, sadness – stay behind and die in May!
I’ve started writing a lot of poetry as of late, and I cannot explain why I need it. Now I can write both prose and poetry, and it is not difficult for me at all. In this poem, which I composed to describe Anne’s feelings during her coronation procession, I strove to stress her strong faith in Henry’s love and in her happiness with him, and to remind of their expectation that the child in her belly was a boy. The reference to England’s Golden Age foreshadows Elizabeth I’s glorious reign, but at that time, Anne and Henry could not know about it. I hope you like this poem.

Soon the coronation party made its grand entrée into the City of London. During the reign of Henry VIII, this historical place was mostly confined to that small area with a population of about 100,000 people. The City was the center of business and finance, where trade guilds and livery companies elected the Lord Mayor every year. Since the days of William the Conqueror, the City has retained its independence from royal interference. Thus, Anne’s coronation procession was a significant event aimed at showing the king’s second spouse to the population of London.
There were 6 traditional points for pageants through the city and additional 3 locations, each of them opulently decorated for Anne as a sign of King Henry’s undying devotion to her. On the 1st June of 1533 after what must have seemed an eternity of waiting, the coronation procession entered Westminster. The witnesses began assembling in Westminster Hall from 7am, but it was just minutes before 9pm that Henry’s wife appeared there.

Anne must have breathed out a sigh of relief as they approached Westminster Abbey, where she would finally be crowned; she was in a family way, so she must have been tired, in spite of her exhilaration. Climbing down from her litter, she and her ladies set out along a route carpeted with cloth of blue ray all along the several hundred yards between the dais of the hall and the high altar of the abbey. Anne was watched by all the peers of the realm and foreign ambassadors, aldermen and judges in scarlet, the monks of Westminster and the staff of the Chapel Royal, all in their sumptuous copes, as well as four bishops, two archbishops and twelve mitred abbots in full pontificals. The abbot of Westminster had his complete regalia.
Ives describes Anne’s appearance in Westminster in these moments:
“Anne was resplendent in coronation robes of purple velvet, furred with ermine, with the gold coronet on her head which she had worn the day before, though it is not clear that she followed tradition by walking barefoot. Over her was carried the gold canopy of the Cinque Ports, and she was preceded by the sceptre of gold and the rod of ivory topped with the dove, and by the lord great chamberlain, the earl of Oxford, bearing the crown of St Edward…”

On the way to the high alter, Anne was supported, according to custom, by the bishops of London and Winchester. The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk carried her long train, and a myriad of her ladies and gentlewomen, each of them accoutered in scarlet with appropriate distinctions of rank. Perhaps having an enigmatic expression on her face, Anne seated herself into St Edward’s Chair, draped in cloth of gold. The grand chair was situated on a tapestry-draped dais two steps high, which was itself set on a raised platform carpeted in red. For a few moments, Anne sat there before she stood up, and the official ceremony of her coronation started.
A solemn mass was performed by the bishop of Westminster. Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, who supported and adored Anne, prayed over her as the royal wife prostrated herself before the altar, despite her pregnancy. She was anointed by Cranmer before she walked back to St Edward’s Chair, where the archbishop crowned her and handed to her the sceptre and the rod of ivory. It is remarkable that Anne was the first female monarch who was crowned with the crown of St Edward, which was previously used to crown only a reigning ruler. This was King Henry’s obvious attempt to make others see the significance of his marriage to Anne.
A bit later, the heavy crown of St Edward was replaced with a lighter one, of course for the queen’s convenience. The service continued: Anne took the sacrament and made the offering at the shrine of the saint. As his beloved cemented her place in history as the new Queen of England, King Henry watched the ceremony from the special stand from behind a latticework, which had been erected in the abbey so that the sovereign could see everything incognito.

This mystique of monarchy belonged to Queen Anne Boleyn. At that time, she could not predict that in about three years, she would die on her husband’s orders for crimes she did not commit. Her emotions must have alternated between celestial delight, unutterable joy, and a feeling of unprecedented triumph. It seemed to Anne that a golden future stretched before her, a future composed of nothing but hope, new victories, and contentment.
The sun has shone upon all of me and fed
My heart and soul’s rhythms with light,
Raised me from dust to a rose, big and red,
Now I’m Henry’s queen, my life is bright!
A white star-flower of joy I will encounter
As sweet darkness envelops the earth
This night – no, not my wedding night,
But the first night of me being a queen.
In the dark, my Hal is still my sun of life,
He will guard my body and sleep tonight,
Holding all the starts in the sky true to us,
Reassuring me that we will defeat any foe.
In the morning, as I will open my eyes again,
From heaven, Hal’s sun will stoop to breathe
A flower of our love into the air in our room.
Surely, my life is now not beneath my Hal’s,
For I became his true queen in Westminster,
Beloved forever and feeling his kindness,
His care for our son growing inside me.
All make me believe it will last forever.
So, from the ashes of my odd sadness,
That lingers in my bosom like a dirge,
Will beauty and hopes grow in my life.
I’ve also written the poem describing Anne’s feelings after her coronation. I may be wrong, but I do not think she had any fears about her future at that time. I believe that Anne loved Henry, perhaps not from the very beginning of their romance, but she fell in love with him somewhere along the way. The long way to their wedding and Anne’s coronation. Nonetheless, the mentioned “odd sadness” foreshadows that Anne’s happiness with Henry would not last long. The “odd sadness” lingers “like a dirge”, which foreshadows her tragic death after an awful lot of unhappiness Anne would experience in her marriage to the king after his passion for her cooled off.
And so far, the nobility of England saw Anne being crowned and accepted or were forced to accept her as queen in the sight of God. Whatever Anne’s fate would be, the mystique of a queen was unbreakable even after her death.
William Shakespeare would declare a generation later:
“Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balm from an anointed king.”
_________________________________________________
“Two poems were written by Olivia Longueville
All images are in the public domain. Text © 2019 Olivia Longueville
#Anne Boleyn#queen anne boleyn#Boleyn#King Henry VIII#Tudor History#Tudor period#the Tudors#henry VIII of england#Tudor#henry viii#royals#coronation
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