#THANK YOU FOR READING MY AGENDA…
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Hello it is me, francis, wondering 2 things (making up my own ask game ahahah):
- what was your lancepill moment? Like moment you fell for Lance… never to recover…
- can u elaborate on Alex/lance??? I have recently been shown intriguing material and saw your tags a while ago… you have thoughts👁️?
Hiiiii francis 🫶
first of all, my lancepill moment... definitely 2020. i was kind of aware of him before that and followed him on socials but I only properly got into f1 in 2020. I got into it through the lockdown streams and when they got back to racing I was bewitched by his pink suit and silly aura. but the point of no return was watching his Monza podium... LIFE CHANGING.
And oh boy.... alex/lance... strollbon. where do i even begin. for the past couple weeks, Ann and i have been having absolutely derranged convos about them... our beloved rarepair. my thoughts are below the cut in case this gets too long:
I have too many thoughts to possibly mention them all but I think the core energy of this ship is that... lance is a spoiled princess who needs to be treated right, and alex is a nice guy who could TREAT HIM RIGHT... as can be seen by the iconic umbrella moment:
As the genius @lil-shiro said... lance has reverse daddy issues, in that his dad has always been able to give him exactly what he needs, so he expects the same kindness and dependability from his partner... i think alex could give him that.
they both have a similar sort of energy of hating media duties, being very nice but also having a bitchy side... i think they'd mesh very well together. as you can see here, their combined sassy energy… unstoppable.
also we know that lance has extreme cat energy, and who on the grid is good with cats? alex albon of course.
and another very very important element of strollbon is of course georgeture. the concept of george's best friend being in a relationship with his enemy... groundbreaking. traumatising. perfect. the potential drama here is so delicious… I may have to write it.
of course the utterly devastating moment of George realising alex and lance are together... maybe he sees a notification from lance on alex's phone, maybe he catches them in the act... either way, he passes out. and then wakes up. and then passes out again. his life is ruined and he'll have to learn to balance his hatred for lance with his desire to be a supportive friend to alex (and eventually, reluctantly, admit that lance isn't that bad).
TLDR, lance is a princess and alex should spoil him. I hope my ramble made sense 😅 but if you have any other questions im always happy to answer 🙏
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Elysium [Sylus/Reader ★ 16K words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Beneath the azure sky and across the luscious green grassland, a love story unfolds. A/N: AO3 user InsomniacForevermore planted an itsy bitsy seed in my head, and…it grew...out of control, actually… 👁👄👁 My Grassland!Sylus Childhood friends/Arranged Marriage/Soulmates AU is finally here and I only had to sacrifice four nights of sleep for it. 🥹 (btw, not necessary, but…listen to DJ Sammy’s Heaven – Candlelight Mix while reading...or post-reading, whichever)
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elysium — n. a place or state of ideal happiness
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The warriors are home!
You first heard the excited cries while tending to your flock of sheep on the grassland. All around you and from far away, people were already abandoning their tasks and chores to rush to the village entrance to greet and welcome the returning warriors.
“Sylus is also back!” one of the young maidens cried with delight.
Your heart paused at hearing his name, your breathing coming out uneven. Instinctively, you also rose to your feet. You left behind your flock to idly graze as your feet took off running at a breakneck speed back to the village. When you had arrived, a large, dense crowd had already formed at the square. The elders and the chief—your father—were praising the warriors’ heroic victories against opposing tribes, but among those who was lavished with the most praises was Sylus. His build larger than the other men and his intimidating height towering above others. Even from the back of the crowd, you could see him clearly.
Your heart quickened, seeing his sharp eyes surveyed the large crowd, going from face to face. The moment his eyes locked in on your petite form, his cold expression broke, the intimidating glare softened completely as he pushed through the crowd and rushed to you. In just seconds, he had gathered you into his arms, lifting you high above the crowd.
Laughter and cheers broke out at the sight of Sylus holding you up high, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs. You steadied your balance, hands resting on his shoulders, gasping and laughing, “Welcome home!”
He smiled back lovingly and murmured for your ears only, “I’m home.”
“Today, let us feast and praise our young men for the glory they have brought upon our tribe!” the chief declared, his words met by loud cheers and thunderous applauses all around.
You were helping bringing the food to the banquet when you felt a strong grip on your arm, tugging you gently back. You steadied the basket of flatbreads you carried and looked up, meeting Sylus’ gaze. He smiled at you mischievously.
“Let the other girls handle this,” he said, tossing a look to the other young women behind you giggling and smiling with envy. “Come with me.”
You couldn’t get a word out as one of the girls came over and took your basket from you, all of them laughing and prodding you to leave with Sylus, much to your embarrassment.
“Go on, we know how much you have been missing him,” one of the girls said, batting her eyelashes teasingly at you.
“It’s a wonder our sheep didn’t get stolen away by wild beasts while its shepherd was so lovesick,” another teased as she exaggeratedly patted her heart rhythmically.
“Was she now?” Sylus asked, amused. He gave you a knowing glance and you glared right back at him.
“Oh, hush, all of you.” You rolled your eyes at your so-called friends before grabbing Sylus’ hand and dragging him away, your ears burning as you could still hear the laughter and cheering.
You paused in your steps once you both were out of sight. You looked up at Sylus, feeling sheepish now. “Um…Actually, I don’t know where we are going…”
He laughed and shook his head. “I was wondering where you were dragging me off to.” He leaned down and pinched your cheek, his grin widening. “The chief’s daughter still gets so easily flustered when others talk about her betrothed, hmm?”
“Sylus, quit it!” You rubbed at your sore cheek with a pout.
“I can’t help myself,” he said, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I have missed seeing you and hearing your voice these last few months.”
Your arms slowly encircled around his waist. You looked up with a bashful smile. “So…you felt the same?”
“Do you doubt me, my beloved?”
He leaned down and kissed your lips. It felt just as sweet and tender as you remembered when he last kissed you goodbye months ago. He parted, but his gaze remained on you, searching—beseeching.
“I would never,” you responded, standing on your toes and stealing another kiss from him, much to both his surprise and delight.
“Come,” he said, breaking away and smirking at your disappointed pout. “I have the horses ready.”
“The horses?”
“We have much to catch up on, my beloved,” he said, taking your hand in his, “And I do not wish for prying ears to listen in on our conversations.”
You rode upon your chestnut-colored mare while Sylus rode his stallion, its black coat sheening in the sunlight on the grassland. The horses walked leisurely across the plane side-by-side as their owners idly conversed. You excitedly rambled on and on about the most mundane events that had happened in his absence, only becoming acutely aware of his silence when you caught sight of his smirk.
“…I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
He shook his head in disagreement. “I have missed your voice,” he answered, “Won’t you tell me more?”
You felt embarrassed by how much you were talking, and even more so when you realized he was listening and watching you with such rapt attention. You shook your head fervently. “No, it’s your turn to talk.”
“It won’t be nearly as entertaining as your story of the goat herder getting drunk and falling asleep in the goat pen while his goats took over his home.”
You rolled your eyes. “I will not be swayed by such weak flattery.”
“Then shall I serenade to you instead, my beloved?”
You covered your ears. “These mortal ears are not worthy of such…unearthly…singing.”
He huffed. “My men have enjoyed my singing these past few months,” he responded proudly, “Surely, my future bride would as well.”
“They’ve truly earned their feast tonight then,” you murmured more to yourself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing—” You paused, your playfulness disappearing instantly the moment you caught sight of several small colorful pouches in the saddlebag on Sylus’ horse, items meant to proclaim affections for the receiver of them. You didn’t even think before blurting out, “Who gave you those pouches?”
You silently cursed the moment you realized what you had asked. You tried to look away nonchalant, missing the smirk rising on Sylus’ face.
“Jealous?”
“No…” You nudged your horse, urging her to walk faster.
Sylus did the same with his horse, matching your pace. “These were welcome home presents.”
“Were they?” Even though you tried to maintain a façade of indifference, you felt your skin crawling at the thought. Against your better judgment, your mind was already racing through the names and faces of all the village girls that could have gifted him those pouches. You played out possible scenarios of how the events could have transpired. You pictured those girls giggling and blushing as they handed him their homemade pouches that they had spent so much time on for him.
You pictured him—smiling. At those girls. Smiling, as he received their gifts. Smiling, as his hand might accidentally brushed against theirs. Smiling…
At others.
Sylus called your name, and you found yourself breaking out of your self-imposed stupor. You turned away to hide your red cheeks, embarrassed by your sudden behavior change. You tried to speak calmly, suddenly becoming very aware of how stiff your voice sounded, but it was better than to let your actual emotions come through. “It will get dark soon. We should head back.”
“Are you jea—”
You kicked your mare’s sides, urging her to take off at a gallop. You didn’t want to hear him finish that sentence, didn’t want to think further about what had transpired. You knew you were behaving irrationally and immature, but you felt like you couldn’t face him, couldn’t stand for him to see you in such a vulnerable, ugly state.
Sylus chuckled as he watched you atop your mare, racing away across the land in the direction of the village. He tugged at his stallion’s rein, yelling, and his own horse took off after yours. Even though he had allowed you a head start, it didn’t take long for Sylus’ horse to close the distance.
You could hear the heavy hooves of the stallion behind you, and you urged your mare to run faster. It was a futile attempt to evade the approaching party. In a matter of seconds, Sylus’ stallion was running side by side with your mare again.
Your eyes widened when Sylus leaned over, his strong legs still keeping him steady on his horse. He grabbed you by the waist from your horse and easily carried you over to his, ignoring your panicked cries. The stallion had slowed to a halt, giving Sylus a chance to settle you and him more comfortably atop the horse. You watched with dismay as your mare continued galloping back to the village, leaving you trapped with Sylus. You looked up, shooting Sylus a heated glare.
“Why did you do that?!”
“Why are you glaring at me?”
“Why did you grab me like that?!”
“Why did you run away?”
“Why—why—”
He waited, his arrogant smile making you even more flustered and angry and emotional. Your glare wavered; you could feel the hot tears brimming in your eyes. You hurriedly blinked them away, but now you could also feel your chest tightening with pain, your breathing coming out ragged. The longer Sylus looked at you and the more you struggled to keep your emotions in check, the worse you felt, knowing a dam was about break and you could do nothing to stop it.
“So why—" Sylus stopped. His smile faltered when you finally broke down crying:
“Why…did you accept them?”
“What?”
You buried your face in your hands, crying, unable to calm yourself or keep the hot tears at bay. You shook and sobbed, your words tumbling uncontrollably out of your mouth, “Why did you accept those girls’ pouches?”
Sylus looked down at you, shocked, not expecting to see you crying, your voice holding so much hurt and pain, he felt guilty for putting you in such a state. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back to rest against his chest. He shushed you softly as he whispered apologies while you cried. You felt him burying his face in your hair, his chest pressing closer to your back, and you couldn’t understand why, but the act itself just made you cry harder as you wrapped your arms around his, hurt and scared and angry.
As dusk settled in, painting the sky in purple and orange, the air felt heavy. In the wide expanse of the grassland, the plane stretched for miles and miles, seemingly endless. You were but a speck in the field, and in that moment in his arms, you truly felt so small and insignificant.
As you returned to the village, nightfall had already descended. You and Sylus had ridden back in silence, the awkward atmosphere only worsening with each passing minute. Sylus had kept an arm protectively around your waist the entire time while his other hand held the rein. You looked down, eyes following the horse’s hooves as he trotted back to the village.
“We’re almost back,” Sylus’ soft voice broke through the tensed atmosphere.
You looked up, seeing the huts that lined the outskirt of the village and your mare quietly grazing in the distance. You wriggled a little, but that only made Sylus tightened his hold. You looked down at his arm around you and you said softly, “Let me down. I can walk back.”
“No,” he answered.
“Sylus—"
He suddenly yanked the rein, forcing the horse to turn around in a different direction.
“Sylus?!” you looked up, panicked, not expecting this sudden change in pacing. Sylus’ sight remained ahead, and your heart sped up at the view of seeing his handsome face from this angle, bathed only in moonlight.
Sylus commanded his horse skillfully and you both rode atop the stallion at a brisk pace across the grassland. The cool night breeze brushed against your cheeks, drying your earlier tears. You even found yourself starting to smile and laugh, the adrenaline taking over and stealing away your earlier anguish.
Eventually, Sylus took you back to the village once he had seen that you had calmed down. The horses were returned to their stable. After giving your mare a comforting stroke down her mane, you turned just as Sylus handed you the saddlebag. You looked up surprised.
“They mean nothing to me,” he said resolutely, “Burn them.”
“I’m not going to…”
He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, making you swallowed your words. “I had never meant to make you upset or have you cried like that, nor did I mean to make you jealous…”
“I was not jea—”
He leaned down and kissed your lips, silencing you. You dropped the saddlebag, the pouches spilling out on the ground. “Sy—”
He lifted you into his arms and you looked up in surprise. “What are you—"
He carried you out of the stable before letting you down again. You looked at him exasperatedly. “You always do what you want—this is not fair…”
“What’s not fair?”
“It’s not fair…how…I’m the only one…feeling insecure…”
In the village square, you could hear the celebration dying down as people started making their way home. The bonfire in the center still blazed brightly.
“You are right,” Sylus responded, “I don’t feel insecure.”
Your shoulders slumped and you kept your eyes lowered. You suddenly felt Sylus’ finger under your chin, tilting it up so your eyes met his.
“You were promised to me,” he said, hushed, “And I to you.”
He kissed you. “We are meant to be, and were we not, I would rewrite the stars, to change the course of destiny and weave a new tapestry of fate to make you mine.”
His forehead pressed to yours. “My beloved,” he held his gaze with yours, “I will always choose you, in this life and the next. Whether we are meant to be or not—”
He kissed you again, and the last remnants of your jealousy and hurt faded away.
I will always choose you.
The following morning you were lazing in the field as the flock of sheep grazed peacefully all around you. The warm sunlight had you yawning, already feeling yourself being lured by the tempting sun into drifting back to sleep.
As the time passed, your eyes felt heavier, and you nodded off a little. Another yawn escaped before you decided a few minutes of rest wouldn’t hurt. Slowly, you closed your eyes, letting them rest for a few minutes.
“Is this what you do when I’m not here?”
You immediately opened your eyes when you heard Sylus’ approaching voice. You let out a soft surprised squeak when he knelt down next to you, his face looming just mere inches from yours. He was smirking. “Lazing around and sleeping? What if your sheep gets stolen by wild beasts, my beloved?”
You glared at him. “I was not sleeping. I…was blinking.”
“Your eyes were closed for far longer than a blink should be.”
“I had some dust in my eyes.”
“I’m quite sure I heard you snoring.”
You blushed and shoved his face aside, glowering when he started laughing at you. “Did you come all the way out here just to tease me?”
“Mmhmm,” he answered with a pleased nod as he sat back with his legs propped up. His elbow rested on top of his leg while he cradled his chin in his hand. You noticed in his other hand was a wreath crafted from leaves and berries.
Your heart quickened and you gasped softly. You looked at him expectantly, wondering if this meant what you thought it meant. It was at that moment, though, that you noticed the dark bags under his eyes. You crawled over to him and he sat back, allowing you to settle in between his long legs. You reached up and touched his face.
“Did you not sleep last night?” you asked him worriedly.
He simply smiled and shook his head. Without a word, Sylus placed the wreath on top of your head. You reached up and touched it tentatively as you looked at him confused.
“I wanted to finish this for you,” he explained, smiling, “Just as I had thought. This suits you.”
“R-really?”
“Mmhmm,” he hummed again, nodding. He leaned in to steal your lips. “You look beautiful.”
“Sylus…” You could feel your cheeks warming up as he spoke.
“Now everyone will know you are mine and I am yours.”
You felt touched by his gesture. Without thinking, you threw your arms around his neck, surprising him into losing his balance. Sylus laid on the grass with you on top of him. You grinned and kissed him happily. He looked up, gasping softly when he saw the sunlight had formed a radiant halo behind your head.
How…ethereal...
He smiled, his hand gently grasped your chin, his thumb brushing over your soft, trembling lips. “We are already promised to one another,” he said, “but if I may be presumptuous, I would still like to ask.”
You looked down at him confused.
“My beloved,” he said, voice soft and sincere, “will you be my bride?”
You stroked his cheek, and as you leaned down closer to his face, your wreath tilted on your head. “What do you think?”
He smiled. “Your wreath is going to fall off.”
“You’ll put it back on for me, right?”
He huffed in amusement at your audacious question, but he nodded. “Yeah,” he said lightly, reaching up to fix the wreath for you, “I will…my bride.”
For that brief moment, you felt like your heart had stopped, your mind replaying what he had just said over and over again. Slowly, you smiled again as you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his strong arms wrapped around you and holding you close to his body.
“This is my vow to you, my bride” he said, your faces just barely apart, “There is only you in my eyes. In this life and all of the lifetimes afterwards, I will always choose you.”
“Same for me,” you answered, gazing back at him fondly. You stroked his cheek, letting yourself willingly and helplessly drown in those passionate crimson eyes.
“I will always find you,” you promised, “In all of our lives together, I will always find you and choose you, my love.”
Your ardent words beckoned his lips to yours, and for the rest of the day, you lay together under the warm morning sun on the grassland, lost in your own world of bliss.
Hands intertwined, you returned to the village with Sylus, his handmade wreath worn proudly on your head. There were envious looks directed at you and sighs of resignation heard here and there. You felt a squeeze from Sylus’ hand and you answered back with your own.
His love for you had always been true and steadfast.
When you looked back on your years together, it seemed he was always there, always yours.
The boy who was promised to you and you to him. An oath had been formed between two powerful families long before either of you came into the world, but perhaps it was always meant to be, because never once did either of you seemed to rebel against your destiny.
You grew up alongside him on the grassland, running barefoot and riding horses across the endless green pasture under the sun. It was a rich childhood filled with laughter and smiles, skinned knees and clumsy first kisses, with the boy who had carried you on his small back home. With the boy who had promised to grow up and become the strongest warrior on the grassland. With the boy who had sworn he would always keep you safe and protected.
The same boy, one day, had become a man, who had unwittingly stolen many young maidens’ hearts, but his own he had safeguarded and kept for you alone.
The man who would always find his way back to you no matter how far his duties may take him.
The man who would soon become your husband, the promise made so long ago between two families would now be honored.
You tightened your hold on his hand, and he smiled down on you.
That smile alone seemed to have banished any lingering insecurities you had. As you stared into his eyes, falling deeper and deeper, you knew nothing could ever sway him, could ever tear him from you. Likewise, there was no one else in your eyes and heart.
It was always going to be him.
There was much to celebrate in the coming weeks. Weddings after weddings took place across the village as one after another, couples were married off.
In the middle of spring, on a warm and sunny day, you were the last to be wedded, but your wedding ceremony was the most extravagant. As the only daughter of the village’s chief, you were the pride and joy of your father. From birth, you and Sylus had already been matched, your future destined together, and now as young adults, the day for your wedding was finally here.
Dressed in red and gold, the colors symbolizing love and prosperity, the elder women prepared you for your groom. You pressed your lips between a lipstick paper, staining them crimson as your cheeks were painted in a similar shade with the rouge made from the scarlet flowers gathered in the grassland. Your hair had been cleansed, fragranced, and styled with gold and red flowers decorating your tresses. You were the very image of a new bride, and now the time had come for you to go meet your groom.
As you made your way through the village, passing cheers from well-wishers, your eyes honed in on Sylus waiting for you at the end. Your breath hitched, your heart speeding up. Dressed in a matching red/gold ceremonial robe and trousers, he waited for you with a smile. You couldn’t help but noted appreciatively how the robe he wore brought out the beauty in his eyes.
His crimson eyes were always so sharp and piercing, able to strike fear into his enemies’ hearts, but when he gazed upon you, there was only soft, gentle joy, love, and gratitude.
The happiness he felt in this moment, knowing soon, by the day’s end, you would be his wife from now until the end of your time on this earthly plane.
The love he felt for you was deeper than the ocean’s depth, unmatched by any force in this world. He would lay down his life for you, rebel against the gods for you, he would submit to you time and time again.
The gratitude he felt for being born into the same lifetime as yours, to be able to have you as his, to build a life with you. He couldn’t begin to express the depths of his gratitude, but he would gladly spend the rest of his life trying.
As you approached him, his gaze seemed to soften even more. You stood facing him, your heart beating faster than normal. One large hand cupped your face and you smiled, leaning into his touch, feeling your heart steadying again.
Soon, he and you would be tethered together in matrimony, your bond witnessed by your village and the heavens above.
You exhaled slowly as the priest began the ceremony.
“May the gods and goddesses bless this pair, allow their union to be fruitful and their happiness endless.”
You stole a glance at Sylus, startling when you met his crimson gaze already settled on you. The fond smile he wore quickly transitioned to a smirk at your flustered expression. You started to look away out of sheer embarrassment, but you caught sight of him quietly mouthing to you: “Eyes on me.”
You found yourself obediently listening to him, your focus entirely on the man you were marrying. Likewise, Sylus kept his own eyes on you.
Time felt sluggish as the ceremony wore on, your body moving through the motions and unable to truly comprehend anything that was said. You didn’t even remember when the ceremony finally ended, only breaking out of your daze when the whole village erupted in cheers as even more scarlet flowers were tossed and thrown in the air to celebrate.
Now husband and wife, you linked arms with Sylus as you made your way back to the square, smiling and laughing as everyone cheered and blessed your marriage. You looked up just as Sylus leaned down and captured your lips, his sudden public display of affection causing a commotion.
While you were hyperaware of the many eyes on the two of you, Sylus appeared unconcerned. To him, there was no one else around. It was just the two of you.
“My bride…”
From morning to sundown to nightfall, it seemed like the celebration would never end. The feast was plentiful, the alcohol abundant, and all around you, people enjoyed the festivity to their hearts’ contents, feeling encouraged to engage in gluttony and merriment for this one special day. It was not every day that many would witness such a blessed union as this marriage between the most powerful warrior in the village and the chief’s daughter. There was much cause for celebration, much joyous anticipation for the bright future that was to come.
While everyone was taking part in the merriment, you and Sylus sat at your own private table, idly chatting and dining, unable to tear your eyes away from one another. You were feeding him some fruits when the village herbalist brought forth a tray with two wooden bowls filled to the brim with a specially prepared wine for newlyweds, the alcohol laced with a potent aphrodisiac. You took one of the wooden bowls hesitantly while Sylus grabbed the other. You took an uneasy glance at your new husband.
He smirked, meeting your gaze. Without any hesitation, Sylus raised his bowl to his lips, downing the wine in mere seconds. You felt a flutter in your belly before you drank from your own bowl, feeling the alcohol burning down your throat. The wine itself rushed to your head, already causing you to feel a little tipsy.
With your inhibitions suddenly lowered, Sylus pulled you to him, his lips seizing yours, and you tasted the rich wine still staining his lips while he tasted yours. You were told the wine would take some time to take effect, so you wondered why you felt so lightheaded in that moment from just a mere kiss.
“Come away with me,” Sylus murmured, his lips just a breath from yours. Taking your hand in his, Sylus dragged you to your feet, steadying you, before leading you away.
He spirited you away to the field on the outskirt of the village. You both left behind the raucous celebration, hearing the drunken laughter and singing fading with each step you took. As the other villagers continued in their festive merriments, no one noticed the absence of the newly wedded bride and groom.
On the outskirt of the village, there was no lamp or bonfire to light the way—only the distant stars overhead to guide you through the darkness. You passed the slumbering flock of sheep, all clustered together for warmth and protection.
“They need to be sheared soon,” you remarked, laughing as you pointed out the fluffiest of the bunch.
He smiled and grabbed your hand again, fingers intertwining together. He led you far away from the village, across the grassy plane.
How strange. You had run barefoot on these grass as children, and now you were walking side-by-side as husband and wife. You not-so-subtly leaned closer to him. He smiled.
“Where are we going?” you asked, looking up at your new husband.
Sylus shrugged. “Away,” he answered, “It’s too noisy back there.”
You laughed. “Celebrations are supposed to be noisy.”
He shrugged again. “I do not care for them.”
“How ironic, coming from a man who has been celebrated for his many feats all of his life.”
He chuckled, but decided not to deign a response to your quip. Instead, he paused in his steps, turning to face you, asking, “Shall I take you away from this place then?”
“And go where?”
“Wherever you would like,” he answered, making suggestions, “The sea, the mountains—”
“And if I say I enjoy our life on this grassy plane?”
He smiled. “Then I will build the biggest hut worthy of my bride.”
You giggled. “Such a powerful boast,” you said, humoring him. “What if I don’t like it?”
“Then I will build a new one.”
“What if I they all displease me?”
“I will still have a lifetime to please my fickle bride,” he responded, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. You both stumbled back, rolling down on the grass until you laid beneath him. Your cheeks suddenly felt warmer. Sylus peered down at you with a knowing smile. “My bride is suddenly silent…”
You looked up, wide-eyed and mouth slightly parted. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your senses suddenly heightened as you became all too aware of the close proximity of Sylus to you. He leaned down and nuzzled his cheek against yours.
Above him, the dark night sky loomed overhead, millions upon millions of stars scattered the heavens, bearing witness to the sacred union on the grassy plane. You felt a slight warmth in your body, but you brushed the feeling aside.
“The moon…” you murmured, gaze looking past him at the bright, full orb in the sky, “She is beautiful…”
“Indeed,” he answered, hushed, eyes fixated only on you. His long, slender finger trailed down your smooth cheek as he spoke softly, “Have I stolen a goddess to be my wife?”
“Such sacrilegious words,” you chided him, but Sylus responded with a roguish grin, stealing your lips and taking your reprimand with delight.
He hummed and murmured in between the sweet kisses, “Am I wrong? Would the gods not bow down to your beauty? Would goddesses not become green with envy and wish to covet the love I have for you?”
You gasped for breath, unsure if your racing heart was spurred by his relentless kisses or the feverish words he had so sweetly uttered. You panted softly, voice still scolding, “The hubris of this mortal man…”
He pressed his forehead to yours, laughing, “I speak of only the truth—my truth.”
“The gods will surely punish you for such loose lips.”
“To bear punishments simply because my only crime is that I wish to lavish my bride with praises and love?” He kissed you again, a haughty smile graced his face. “Then let them punish me.”
The warmth in your body spread. Surely, such words couldn’t have this much of an effect on you, right? You vaguely noticed Sylus’ own expression seemed more heated, his eyes darkening with a look of desire and longing.
He kissed you again, but you felt it was different from the previous light, affectionate pecks. He was practically ravaging your soft lips to the point you felt like you would bruise. You moaned against his mouth, this burning inside of you worsening as you kissed him back just as eagerly.
As the night wore on, you began to notice the effects of the aphrodisiacs settling in, feeling the warmth spread in your body and seeing the flushed look on your new husband’s face.
“Sy-Sylus…” you called for him, and his lips and teeth grazed along your neck. You panted and tugged at his ceremonial clothes urgently. “I…I feel so warm…”
“I know,” he husked back, hand cradling your face. He breathed in sharply. He himself was also beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiacs on his body, and coupled with the erotic sight of your flushed expression, he could feel himself hardening, needing you just as much as you needed him in this moment. He kissed your lips again, his voice coming out in soft pants, “I cannot wait to go back to our hut. I must have you now.”
You nodded, your body was aching, yearning for him in a way you had never felt before. You tossed your head to the side, your arms reaching up to wrap around your body, your own hands tugging at your clothes impatiently. “It’s so hot…Sylus…my body…it…it feels…it feels like…like it’s throbbing…I…I…”
He groaned at your words. He pulled away, and you looked upset at the sudden loss of contact, already missing his heavy weight on you, his warm heat against you, his soft touches on you. You whined softly, needing him on you again.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, breathless.
“With my life,” you answered immediately, and he smiled.
He knelt before you, like a devout follower, your body his temple to worship at. He offered you his kisses, words praising your beauty. You watched, eyes glazed over, your throat drying, as he removed his clothes tossing them to the side unceremoniously. You felt the ache inside you worsened as you took in the magnificent appearance of your husband, your eyes raking up and down his glorious body. Your breath hitched as you bore witness to his manhood, feeling both trepidation and excitement swirling inside you.
He reached out and disrobed you, his own eyes greedily taking in the sight of your exposed body. There was no other beauty or treasure in the world that could entice him the way he was feeling for you in this moment.
“Lay back,” he ordered, and though you were confused, you obeyed him. Suddenly, your eyes widened when he had your legs slung over his powerful shoulders while he settled between your parted thighs. You felt his warm breath trailing along your thigh, reaching your core.
“Sylus, what are you—ohh…” your head fell back as you let out a moan, feeling his mouth pressing against your most intimate area.
His mouth…he is… “Ahh…!” You covered your mouth, embarrassed by the unexpected noises you were making.
“Don’t.” Sylus looked up, chiding you gently, “I want to hear more. I want to hear how good I am making you feel.”
“Ohhh…” You could feel him parting your slick lips, his tongue diving in and stroking against you in all of the right places. Your hips moved on their own, wanting more of this stimulating sensation he was bringing to you.
You opened your eyes a crack, barely able to see him, but you did catch a glimpse of his hand, seeing it wrapped around his magnificent manhood, pumping it urgently as he continued to pleasure you. You could feel your body pulsing at the sight, your breathing coming out in quick gasps and moans.
“Sylus…ohhh…”
You whimpered, feeling an unfamiliar sensation happening to your body. “Sylus—I…I feel strange…ahh…ahh…”
“Do you feel good?” he pulled back just a moment to check in on you, a smirk on his face. You whined in frustration at the sudden loss of attention. He laughed and continued. You cried out when Sylus’ other hand pressed against you, brushing over an area that had you bucking against him. He continued stroking that same spot, feeling that sensitive little pearl, that was making you cry and moan so desperately, the erotic sounds you were making had him stroking himself harder and faster. Your helpless cries rose in pitch, coming out faster…and faster…and—
Your hips bucked up, your head tossed to the side as you let out a strangled moan, fingers finding only grass to hold onto as your body experienced the most euphoric sensation you had ever felt.
Sylus lapped at you greedily, forgetting his own pleasure as he wanted to only extend yours. You had never felt this high, this searing, hot pleasure coursing through your body. You focused on the feeling, wanting to hold onto it for as long as you could.
You were panting so hard, body trembling uncontrollably with pleasure. You didn’t know how long the heavenly feeling lasted, but when you felt the haze starting to subside, you realized Sylus was lavishing you with kisses. You hummed back tiredly, feeling his hands explored your body. You moaned as he squeezed your breast experimentally.
“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft. He pressed a kiss into the nape of your neck.
“So…so good…” You said, but then you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him again. You still felt so hot inside, still not fully satisfied. You whimpered to him, “Sylus…the wine…”
He panted, his hand cupping your sex, the friction from it only easing your ache a little. You needed more. Instinctively, your hips moved on their own, your body trying to seize whatever friction it could to satisfy this agonizing ache inside you.
“You are still so wet,” he murmured, laughing softly to himself, “This is good…”
You were confused by his words, but Sylus immediately kissed you again, reassuring you. “I’ll quell the fire inside you.”
Your eyes widened when he aligned himself to you, the head of his massive manhood pressing into your slick folds. You bit down on your lip, wincing from the unfamiliar sensation as you felt more and more of him entering. You gasped, tensing.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Bear with the pain a little, my bride.”
You arched forward, voice scared. “Sylus—!”
He hushed you softly as he pressed more of himself into you slowly, groaning as he felt your walls stretching to accommodate him. He gauged your reaction closely, pleased as you became used to the feeling of him penetrating you.
He watched as your expression slowly changed, your arousal coming back stronger as he sheathed himself fully inside you. For a moment, he remained still, buried completely inside you and letting you adjust to the feeling. His lips found yours again, his hand slipping into yours.
“Ahh…m…more…”
Sylus’ ears perked up the moment he heard your soft plea. He began moving. Slow, careful movements at first, and then he slammed into you, making you cry out as stars filled your vision. Once he was sure you were enjoying yourself, he picked up his pacing, setting a hard, fast rhythm.
You writhed beneath him on the grass, moaning as he spread you more, taking you in deeper. His kisses trailed down your neck to your chest, his mouth finding your nipple to suckle. You squirmed when his tongue teased the sensitive nub, swirling around it until it hardened. “Sylus!”
He groaned when your fingers found his hair, tugging at him, urging him on. His voice was heavy with arousal when he spoke, “Taking me so well…my beloved beautiful bride…” He kissed your neck, his hands explored your body, learning and memorizing all of the curves that only he would ever know and trace. He memorized the way you sounded, the way your body was trembling with pleasure as it felt every burning touch and thrust from him.
“Sylus…more…more…please…”
He smiled and kissed your lips, swallowing your pleas hungrily.
Every powerful thrust had you calling his name, begging and pleading for him to go deeper and harder and faster. He answered your desperate pleas, giving you everything you were begging for. “Sylus—I am…ahh…it’s…close…”
He grunted. He could feel it too, knowing you were so close to coming undone again by him. That sweet, mounting pleasurable feeling you had felt earlier was almost here, just within reach, a little more, and—
You could feel your world tipping over, a white-hot searing pleasure coursing through your body, more powerful than the last. You didn’t know which god or goddess to praise for the intense pleasure this man was bringing to you, but you continued to cry out anyway. You gripped the grass, tugging until you pulled them free from the ground. The grass blades slipped from your fingers and scattered in the wind.
Sylus continued to rock into you, his own climax nearing. His hands gripped tightly your hips as he pounded into you with enough force that your breasts bounced. His hand skimmed over your flat belly, already imagining it growing heavy with a new life inside.
“Going to have you bear my children,” he murmured against your ear, his large hand gripping your much smaller one.
You moaned at his words. This was to be your role. You had always known it. The women were expected to bear their husbands’ children, the future of the village depending on these fruitful unions. For a powerful warrior like him, there was even more pressure for you to conceive, to bear him many strong sons who would inherit and carry on his legacy.
“Yes, yes,” you answered him breathlessly. You held onto him as he drove into you, his words reigniting the fire inside you. You whined softly into his shoulder. “Please, Sylus…”
“Oh, gods,” he grunted, “You are going to look so beautiful, my beloved.”
You mewled at his words. “More…ah…tell me more…”
His breath hitched, but he continued, his own words making him dizzy with pleasure. He was smirking as he panted, “Would you like that, my beloved? Would you like to grow big and round with my baby in your womb?”
You whimpered. It was your role. It was your duty. However, the way he asked, the way his deep voice sounded, rasping with desire, made you realized that you did want to have his babies—not out of obligation, but as an expression of your sincere love for him. You gasped and cried out, “Yes!”
That one word seemed to have driven Sylus wild. He spread you more and drove in deeper, his powerful thrusts unrelenting as he neared his own release. Your cries echoed in the dark night sky. You practically squealed, unprepared for this sudden aggressive switch.
“You’re going to carry my baby,” he murmured, nearly delirious with desire, “Grow big and round with my baby. Everyone will know. Everyone will know it is my baby in your womb, my baby that I fucked into you.”
You panted and moaned, your hands searching desperately for anything to hold onto, anything to keep you grounded as he took you for himself. Normally so sweet and affable with you, his sudden lewd words had you throbbing all over again. You didn’t realize you could get so aroused by such obscene words, but you found your body was craving more. You wanted to hear him say more of these perverted words, wanted to hear these indecent thoughts spoken aloud by his deliciously and sinfully deep voice. You wanted him to act on his lascivious desires, wanted those words to come true, wanted him to actually fuck a baby into you. You whimpered his name, gasping and pleading.
Sylus leaned in closer to you and you instantly encircled your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly. He wrapped his own arms around you, lifting you off the ground, your legs locking around his waist as he penetrated you deeply, hitting that sweet spot that had you feeling that same euphoric feeling approaching again.
“You are going to look beautiful—so fucking gorgeous—heavy with my baby in you. Going to keep feeling you, going to fuck you over and over again while you are pregnant.”
His movements had become hurried and graceless, his own words mixed with your reactions had him close to the edge. “Gonna fill you up, gonna keep you full, gonna make sure my seed take.”
“Oh, Sylus—I am going to—ahh, don’t stop, don’t stop!”
You felt it, it was coming again, it was mounting, getting tighter, so close, so close, so fucking close—
You screamed your release into his shoulder, your nails scraping frantically along his back as you felt him emptied into you, filling and flooding your womb full of his seed. You bit down into his shoulder, and he hissed with pain and pleasure. There was just so much.
“Sylus—ahh, I…I feel so…full…”
He groaned and buried his face into your neck. His voice was low and commanding, “Take every last drop.”
“Ahh…Sylus…Sylus…”
He lifted your head from his shoulder, and he leaned forward, your lips his to take. You trembled against him, the aftershocks of your release still coursing through your spent body. You stayed in his arms, boneless and satisfied, the effects of the aphrodisiacs finally wearing off.
You looked at him with half-hooded eyes, meeting his own satiated gaze. His lips found yours again, his kisses more tender this time as you stayed in each other’s embrace longer as you both slowly came back down from your shared climaxes.
You lay with him beneath the stars, the cool spring breeze a welcoming presence after your heated lovemaking. You nestled into Sylus’ embrace, sighing softly when he tightened his hold. He covered you both loosely with his ceremonial robe as you basked in the afterglow.
You prayed for this moment to last, to always remember every single detail of this night. Among the million stars above, you hoped at least one would hear your silent prayer and make it come true. You closed your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped by Sylus’ warmth. As you slipped into a deep slumber, you could hear Sylus’ rich, deep voice murmuring softly:
“My beloved bride…I love you.”
As daybreak came, you found yourself waking up on top of fur, feeling a strong, protective arm wrapped around you. When you looked up, you didn’t see the sky. You looked around and realized you were inside a hut.
You heard soft snoring and looked up, seeing Sylus’ sleeping face close to yours. You smiled as memories of the previous day rushed back through your mind, your cheeks tinging pink as you remembered the passionate night beneath the stars with him on the grassland.
You snuggled into his embrace, his now familiar warmth enveloping you. Sylus stirred when he felt your movements. He looked down and smiled, kissing the top of your head.
“Good morning, my bride.”
You smiled, answering him, “Good morning…my husband.”
The one word seemed to have robbed Sylus of all thoughts as he seemed to sleepily replayed what you had just said again in his head. Slowly, happily, he smiled and pulled you into a kiss.
“Say it again,” he murmured against your lips.
“My husband.”
“I love you,” he whispered back, his words making you swelled with joy. He rolled over and had you trapped beneath him. His feverish kisses covered you and you struggled to keep up.
“Sy—Sylus, the sun is up—!”
“I do not care,” he murmured, nibbling your neck, “Do not worry. Just let this happen, my bride.”
You mewled softly, feeling his soft lips all over you, his hands roaming your body brazenly. Helplessly, you gave in to his wicked temptation and to your desires, surrendering yourself completely to him that morning.
By the next moon cycle, many of the new young brides had fallen pregnant—yourself included. The men had already departed for their hunting trip, already prepping for the cold winter months to come. They would not be receiving news about their expecting brides until they returned—hopefully with a bountiful hunt.
You had all conceived around the same time, so everyone’s growths were only slightly different. Even though, you were the last to lay with your husband, everyone noticed how fast you were growing, belly rounding out bigger and faster than the other new brides and mothers.
Oh, worry not, that is normal, one woman said.
The women in Sylus’ family all bear big, strong sons, another explained.
That’s right. You should be proud that you are already this big, you were told.
Child, do not fret, you were made for this, an elder assured you.
At night, you lay in bed, hand smoothing over your growing middle. Though the women in the village had offered you their wisdom and experience, you still felt unsure and worried about your fast growth. Your heart beat softly, your worries mounting. You turned in bed and stared at the empty space next to you, missing and yearning for your husband’s warmth and comfort.
You closed your eyes, hand cradling your belly, and you prayed for Sylus’ safe and quick return.
When the summer heat crept in unexpectantly, the village resounded with joyous cries as the men returned with wild games and fowls. Some were to be feasted on in the coming days while others would be cured for the winter months when food was scarce.
You raced through the village as fast as you could in your current delicate condition, arriving at the square just as you saw the imposing figure of your husband. A large wild boar was slung over Sylus’ strong, broad shoulders as he entered the square, but the moment he saw your approaching figure, seeing your rounded belly, he dropped the wild beast and rushed to you, gathering you into his arms, laughing joyously.
He carefully steadied you on your feet, dropping to his knees as he cautiously felt your belly, surprised when he was already feeling faint movements. He looked up at you adoringly, “You look breathtaking, my beloved.”
You covered your mouth with both of your hands, suppressing the laugh and cry threatening to rise. He looked at you concerned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve missed you,” you confessed, feeling tears brimming in your eyes.
He smiled. “I’m home.”
“Welcome home,” you said the familiar words you had said so many times in the past, but this was the first time you had uttered them as his wife. You sighed, relieved, repeating, “Welcome home.”
Nightfall arrived once more, and throughout the village, families settled in for the night one after another.
“I’ve missed you,” Sylus murmured as he climbed into bed with you, his lips already finding yours. You hummed softly, feeling your heart beating fast when his large hand rubbed against your belly, feeling the faint movements of the baby inside.
You could hear his soft, disbelieving chuckle as he parted from you. His forehead pressed to yours, his lips still near yours. “This is really happening,” he murmured, overjoyed “How do you feel?”
“Good,” you answered with a smile.
“No sickness? No discomfort?”
You shook your head. “The herbalist had given me some medication to help with the sickness.”
Sylus nodded in understanding. “That’s good then,” he murmured. He kissed your forehead, and he apologized softly. “This won’t be easy on you, so I want to ease your discomfort as much as I am able to.”
“Sylus…”
He leaned down and kissed your belly. “You are giving me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.” He rubbed your belly fondly, delighting in feeling his child responding to his touch, “Thank you, my beloved.”
The fears and unease you had felt about your changing body disappeared the moment you laid with Sylus. The flames in the lamps had long been extinguished, but you felt like in the dark hut, you could still see him clearly, see the love and desire in his eyes.
He worshiped your body the same way he did on your wedding night, reveling in the beauty and changes happening. The stretch marks that had started to appear around your stomach were caressed and kissed with revere, his voice full of praises and gratitude for the sacrifices you were making to carry his child.
When he gripped your soft, widened hips, you let out a low, deep moan, your body welcoming him in. The night air was cool on the grassland, but within this hut you both called home, there was a heat unlike any other as sweat-slicked bodies moved together with familiar ease. The air was thick and heavy with the sounds of your intense lovemaking, and where your moans ended, his began.
You kissed him, your ardent words coming out in between gasps and moans, “Welcome home…my love…”
He smiled against the sweet kisses, greedily taking them for himself. His forehead rested against yours, his movements reaching you where you needed most, and as you came, trembling so beautifully with pleasure beneath him, he breathed against your neck:
“I’m home.”
The once vibrantly green grass of the plane had begun to yellow, drying out as the weather started changing. The morning air had been chilly, and within Sylus’ warm embrace in the early hours, you both felt reluctant to leave the comfort of your shared bed.
You could hear stirring outside your hut as one by one, many of the villagers were getting up, ready to start the brand-new day. You burrowed into Sylus’ embrace, ignoring him when he laughed.
“Are you not going to get up, my bride?”
You shook your head. “It’s still early…”
You felt his hand brushing aside your hair, hearing a soft agreeable hum from him. You perked up when you heard him speaking again, “I will have to leave soon.”
“No,” you said, grabbing his arm and preventing him from getting up. “Stay with me a few minutes longer…please?”
He chuckled and shook his head in amusement. He leaned over and kissed your head, his hand smoothing your hair to the side. “So needy this morning,” he teased, though you didn’t care. You did feel needy, wanting him to stay and coddle you a little longer.
“So what if I am?” you challenged him. You attempted to sit up, but the heavy weight you carried made the once simple task much more difficult. Sylus immediately helped you as you cradled your large belly. You wondered just how big you could get for the remainder of your pregnancy. You already felt impossibly large, almost embarrassed by your size compared to many of the other expectant women in the village. You leaned back against the wall, sighing as you rubbed your belly restlessly.
He smiled sympathetically and kissed you again, his own hand resting over your stomach. “The baby is already so active this early in the morning,” he said, astonished.
“He must take after his father,” you said wearily as you shifted uncomfortably, “He doesn’t let me rest at all at night.”
Sylus smirked; his expression wickedly lewd. “Is that so?” He felt your belly again, feeling nonstop movements from the baby. He glanced at you, seeming intrigued by your earlier comment. “You said ‘he.’ What makes you so sure it’s a boy?”
You shrugged. “The women have told me that I am carrying low, which they said all points to me carrying a boy.”
Sylus looked puzzled by your explanation. “And you believe them?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “But I thought you would be pleased to hear the baby might be a boy?”
“I wouldn’t care if it’s a boy or a girl,” he said firmly. He leaned closer, his hands pressed against the wall on either side of your head, keeping you trapped. He smirked and kissed you. “Besides, I have no intention of just having one child with you.”
You blushed and tried to look away. You gasped when he went in and kissed your cheek, his lips traveling further south as he continued down your neck. “Sy—Sylus…”
“I knew it. You look so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his hand continued to caress your belly, delighting in feeling his child moving inside you. “Carrying my baby, having my baby…”
“Mmm, Sylus…”
He laughed again when he felt a particularly strong kick. “I see we have a fighter,” Sylus said, smiling, “Maybe he does take after me—or she.”
You looked at him curiously. “‘She’?”
He nodded and laid back down next to you. He kissed your belly, stroking it fondly. You felt a warmth in your chest when he did that, his look of adoration and delight making you smiled fondly.
“I want both sons and daughters,” he said firmly, looking up at you. He stroked your cheek, “I want daughters as pretty as their mother. As sweet as their mother. As loving as their mother.”
You smiled, your cheeks colored a pretty shade of pink. You decided to play along with him, teasingly asking, “Does that mean I want sons as strong as their father? As dependable as their father? As free-spirited as their father?”
“Is that how you see me?”
You nodded. You tilted your head and looked thoughtful. Sylus raised a brow at seeing your sudden quiet disposition.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stroking your cheek again.
“Do...do you…”
“Do I what?”
Your cheeks brightened further.
“Tell me,” He demanded. “What is it?”
“How many children are we going to have?”
Sylus wasn’t expecting that question, so it took him a few seconds to register what you had asked him. He then laughed, making you feel embarrassed. He quickly apologized, kissing you reassuringly. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “But I want to have a lot of children with you.”
He sat up, his hands cupped your face as he leaned in closer. “As many as my beloved will allow me to have.”
“Then,” you started hesitantly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest, “If I say…I want to give you as many as you want…”
Sylus looked surprised, and then he smiled again, his lips brushing against yours. “Then, I feel like the most blessed man in the world.”
He pulled you into his embrace, showering you with sweet words and kisses.
Outside the hut, life had already begun again as people went about their day and chores. You both could hear the laughter of children running outside, mothers scolding their little ones, and men already laboring away to provide for their family.
For this particular morning, you and Sylus both decided to idle, to lounge around and enjoy the comfort of each other. As you lay in his arms again, Sylus lulled you back to sleep with stories of the future. You drifted to sleep, his deep voice describing a memory yet to come: beneath the azure summer sky and across the luscious green grassland, your children raced barefooted, their sweet bell-like laughter carried away by the playful wind.
“I feel like I am being kicked in all directions at once,” you sighed one cold evening, your hands rubbing restlessly all over your stomach. “Surely, this is not normal.”
Sylus wrapped his arms around you from behind. He looked down at you, your pout nearly making him laugh out of complete adoration for you. He couldn’t help but found you endearing whenever you looked frustrated and upset.
“You must be close to giving birth now, right?”
You nodded as you grabbed Sylus’ hand, guiding him to where you felt the most movements in your womb. You smiled when you looked up, seeing his surprised expression when he felt the baby’s strong kick. You answered his inquiry, “The midwife said it wouldn’t be long before the baby drops.”
As soon as you finished saying that, your expression faltered. Sylus noticed the change and he questioned you gently. You tried to brush it aside, but Sylus persisted, demanding to know what was upsetting you so suddenly.
You reluctantly relented. “Sylus,” you started, your voice growing smaller as you prepared for your confession, “I’m…scared.”
His expression softened. He turned you around to face him, but you kept your sight downcast. You could feel Sylus rubbing your cheek in comfort.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, “Speak to me.”
“What if…something goes…wrong.”
Sylus was immediately silent. You slowly looked up. His lips were a tight line, his eyes hardening. You could see him inhaling sharply as he seemed to try to keep his emotions under check for your sake. You then felt him guiding you to your bed.
You both sat down and Sylus was holding your hand tightly in his. At first, he didn’t say anything, almost as if he was trying to gather his thoughts and choose his words carefully. After a few beats, he began to speak:
“I do not wish to lie to you,” he said, mindful of his words, “But…I also do not like thinking of the possibility. All I can do is believe that everything will be fine.”
You looked unassured; your expression still anxious.
He pulled you into his arms. “I refuse to think otherwise,” he continued, his hand rubbing the back of your head soothingly, “You are strong and capable. Our baby is healthy and active. I have no reason to think differently.”
“Sylus…”
He leaned down and kissed your forehead. He looked apologetic as he spoke, “I wish I could take away your worries.”
You rested your cheek against his chest, eyes closed. You could feel the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. This was…calming, you realized. His presence alone was comforting you, easing your fears. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, hesitant.
“Will you…stay with me? When I give birth?”
He looked at you confused.
“Please…”
He gave you a small smile, his hands cupping your face as his thumbs massaged little circles on your cheeks. “You know men are not allowed in the room.”
“Since when do you follow rules?”
At this, he laughed, conceding immediately. “You’re right,” he said, nuzzling his face against yours, “I will gladly stay with you, my beloved. I don’t want you to ever feel like you are alone, especially during this time.”
You smiled against him, feeling as if the worries you had been shouldering silently was easing. You still felt scared, felt so unsure of yourself, but you knew with Sylus by your side, you could find the confidence to believe that everything would work out in the end.
“Oh!”
“What’s wrong?” Sylus looked down at you, his face hardening.
You laughed as you peered down and felt your belly. You gasped again, laughing louder, “He is really not making it easy on me!”
Sylus relaxed, smiling with you.
“Or she,” Sylus reminded you, his own hand covering your stomach. He stroked it lovingly as he continued to speak, “She could be upset that her mother is scared and anxious.”
Sylus nuzzled his face against yours again, kissing your cheek. “But I hope her mother will feel better knowing I am here.”
You smiled, touched by his attempts at comforting you. “I am,” you answered. You then poked his cheek playfully, your expression puzzled. “But why are you so insistent that the baby is a girl? I thought you said it didn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Sylus reaffirmed, grinning, “But we don’t know for sure yet if it is a boy or a girl. I don’t see why we can’t entertain the idea that we could be having a daughter.”
You laughed softly. You wrapped your arms around your large belly. “You say it doesn’t matter, but why do I get the feeling that you are really hoping for a girl?”
He smirked. “Am I?”
He pulled you down into bed, helping you lay on your side, your back resting against his chest. Sylus rubbed your stomach soothingly, his warmth encompassing you. You closed your eyes peacefully as you listened to his calming voice:
“We could have a pretty little daughter,” he began, his smile infectious. “Perhaps she will be as feisty and sweet like her mother. She would be the brightest jewel in the grassland, our precious little treasure.”
“We would have to find a good husband for her,” you quipped teasingly. You opened your eyes and looked up just in time to catch Sylus’ look of utter disdain. You giggled and poked at his cheek again, making him frowned even more. “What is with that look?”
“The very idea displeases me.”
“What about it displeases you?”
“Just…everything.”
You tsked at him. “Be honest,” you said, amused, “what do you not like about this?”
Sylus groaned and looked down at you with a light glare. “You are really going to make me say it?”
You nodded with a grin.
“No boy will be good enough for her.”
You laughed.
“You’re laughing at me,” Sylus said, offended. He had genuinely thought you would be on his side on this matter. “You are actually laughing at me. How impudent.”
You rolled your eyes at him, saying, “I am sure we can find her a perfect match. After all, we were matched perfectly by our parents, right?”
Sylus looked at you defeated. “You are being very unfair.”
“I am being as fair as I can be when we are discussing about our baby, who we still don’t know for sure if it’s a boy or a girl.”
Sylus sighed. “Very well,” he conceded, still unhappy, “You really ruined my good mood.”
You looked at him with mock-pity. “And your baby keeps me up at night. And it’s your fault I can’t see my feet any more—and they are swollen because of you, too. And also—”
“Alright, alright,” he relented, amused, “I know when to call it quits.”
He pulled you back against him, his hand resting over your stomach. He murmured into your ear, “Boy or girl, it doesn’t matter. The baby is already the greatest gift you can give me, so thank you, my beloved.”
You closed your eyes and smiled, letting his gentle ministrations eased you to sleep as you felt the baby you carried calming down, seemingly also lulled by their father’s presence and voice.
One by one, many of the young mothers went into labor with their child. Day after day, week after week, the painful wails and desperate cries of laboring mothers were heard throughout the village as a child was brought forth into the world.
You were the last, and everyone waited with bated breath for your child’s birth. You were already the biggest, and with each new day, you continued to grow uncomfortably bigger. The cold winter month was also settling in, stripping the grassland of its once vibrant colors and life.
On this particular evening, the first snowfall had arrived, already blanketing the grassland in a layer of snow. You had heard the laughter from children as they played, attempting to catch the falling snowflakes on their tongues. You looked down at your belly, rubbing it as you wondered what your child’s first reaction to snow would be like.
“Please come out,” you pleaded to your stubborn baby, “Don’t you want to see the snowfall, too?”
You felt a strong kick, almost as if the baby was responding negatively to your plea and question. You sighed, and huffed resignedly, “Already stubborn like your father…”
“What about me?” Sylus entered the hut just as you finished speaking.
“Nothing,” you lied, giving him a poorly-disguised smile. He knew you were fibbing, but decided it was perhaps in his best interest to not antagonize you during this time. He knew the last couple weeks had been rough on your body and with so many women having already given birth to their babies, he knew your anxiety was also increasing as your own child seemed adamant about prolonging your discomfort.
“Do you want to eat something?” Sylus offered, but you shook your head.
“I think I want to walk.”
“It’s snowing outside,” he answered.
“I know,” you responded, “Maybe I can just walk around the hut. It will help with the pressure around my hips.”
Sylus nodded.
You paced your hut restlessly, one hand on your lower back as the other cradled your large belly. You breathed in and out slowly, wincing in discomfort. Sylus walked up behind you, his hands settling on your hips as he rubbed soothing circles.
“Do you think it’s almost time?” he questioned, worried.
You were about to shake your head, but you winced again in discomfort. “I don’t know,” you admitted, as your hands rested over his appreciatively, silently urging him to press in harder. He complied.
“The last three days have been false pains,” you said, frustrated, “Does the baby not want to be born?”
He chuckled and leaned down to nuzzle his face against your cheek. “The baby probably feels safe inside you, so it doesn’t want to be born yet.”
“I would feel touched by such lies,” you started, turning to peck his cheek to his amusement and delight, “but, Sylus, I am too uncomfortable to put up with your thinly-veiled flatteries.”
“When have I ever flattered you?” he remarked with a teasing grin, walking around to face you. He rubbed your overdue belly with a sympathetic smile. He couldn’t help but found your frustration endearing, though he knew better than to voice such thoughts aloud during this time. Instead, he guided you to bed.
You sat down in between his legs, your back against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, his hands rubbing soothing circles around your gravid middle as he leaned down and nibbled on your neck, whispering huskily, “I know this has been tough on you, my beloved, but I have adored seeing the changes that you have been through to carry our child.”
His brazen touches felt so possessive, as if it made him proud to know that the many changes that had happened to your body was his complete doing. You whimpered and sighed as he continued, seemingly growing bolder with his intents. The featherlight kisses he peppered along your neck felt like such a stark contrast to the lustful words he whispered to your ears.
“So beautiful, so fertile,” he said, his voice so honeyed and sultry, you felt like you were pulsing inside. You could barely keep your breathing steady or your voice quiet. Sylus gazed at you intensely, his scarlet eyes seemed to shimmered with satisfaction. He appeared almost pleased by your flushed doe-eyed look. He continued in the same hushed, sensuous voice, his hands practically groping you all over, “And so voluptuous. You have filled out beautifully, my beloved.”
“Sylus…” Your voice sounded breathless as you reached down to grab at his mischievous hands. You felt a building warmth in your body, his devilish voice and tantalizing words igniting a fire inside. With his teasing ministrations on your sensitive body, you began to crave for more from him. You squeezed his hands.
“What is it?” His breathing stopped for a moment, seeing the aroused look in your eyes.
He smirked.
Sylus leaned in and kissed you, his touches shameless and greedy.
He helped you lay down and as he continued to trail kisses down your neck, his hands were already working on undressing you. You tugged at his own clothes, and he chuckled in amusement at your impatience. He began undressing himself as well, letting all of the clothes fall to the ground. He lay down behind you, his lips trailing along your shoulder as his hand rubbed your much overdue belly. You whined as you felt him rutting against you from behind, his hard member pressing against your slick entrance.
“P-please…please, Sylus…”
You felt your insides throbbing, desperate to be filled by him. You gasped into a pillow as he answered your plea, his massive manhood slowly easing in, drawing out your heavy moans. You felt his hand pressing into your hip, gripping you tightly as he buried himself in you.
You were practically crying with relief, just feeling him sheathed inside you was easing the discomfort you had been feeling these past few weeks. You rocked back against him, a silent invitation. Sylus smirked.
He began moving, but compared to your previous lovemaking with your husband, this time Sylus was careful, his movements slow but precise, still able to draw out your pleased moans. He gauged your reactions, his own pleasure secondary as he was more concerned about your comfort.
“Sy—Sylus…m-more…”
“Are you sure?” His words came out in soft pants. Seeing you so heavy, so close to going into labor with his baby, was arousing him in a way he never knew it could. He wanted nothing more right now than to fuck you like a wild beast, to make you writhe and scream with pleasure. He was only holding himself back for your sake.
When you nodded, unaware of his inner desires, that was enough to break his restraint. You gasped as you felt his thrusts getting harder, feeling it reaching you deeper and deeper. Your fingers curled around a blanket, gripping it tightly as your face was buried against a pillow as you felt him driving into you with more force than before.
You groaned and moaned into the bed, your grip around the blanket vicelike as you felt his length piercing you with precision over and over and over again. You called out his name, your pitch higher than normal. Sylus groaned deeply at the heavenly sound, his arousal clouding his mind with only thoughts of claiming you again and again until you went into labor.
Sylus’ pants grew heavier, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of you. In his eyes, you looked absolutely perfect like this. On your side, heavily pregnant with his baby, your leg held up by him as he fucked shamelessly into you. Your cries and moans were the sweetest noises he had ever heard.
Sylus reached around you with his other hand, groping your heavy, tender breast, kneading and teasing until your milk leaked and dribbled openly down your chest. At this point, you were too far gone, completely lost in this thick haze of pleasure to even feel any embarrassment or worried about your modesty. Whatever he was doing, you wanted even more from him.
“Don’t stop…don’t stop…ahh…please, Sylus, more, more, more…!” you whined over and over, his name spilling shamelessly from your lips. You could feel your pleasure was cresting, reaching new heights. “…Sylus…Sylus!”
“Fuck!” he hissed as he felt you cumming around his cock. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, one hand squeezing your breast as his other gripped your hip so hard, you would surely bruise by morning. Without a word, he spilled into you, hot and heavy.
Your eyes squeezed shut, lost in this state of euphoria. You moaned, feeling so full. He was cumming into you so much, you felt his release dripping out of you.
You gasped, feeling a twinge in your belly.
“Oh, gods, ah…ah…ah” you panted as you reached for his hand over your breast. You whimpered as you felt an unfamiliar tightening around your stomach, the pain intermingling with the residual pleasure you were feeling. “Sy—Sylus…”
You called for his name weakly, and Sylus was immediately alerted. He looked down at you in concern, feeling your nails scraping against his hand. “What is it? What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the whimpers from escaping your lips. The cramps were worsening and you just wanted to curl up. “Ah…Sylus…my belly hurts…”
At those words, Sylus pulled out of you slowly and more of his release spilled out obscenely. His breath hitched the moment he realized his seed wasn’t the only thing dripping out of you and down your thighs. There was a growing wetness on the bed beneath where you lay.
Your water had broken.
You gasped and clutched your belly, feeling the first pangs of labor as well as the baby descending lower in your womb. There was so much pressure in your hips, you began to panic. Seeing your distress, Sylus immediately dressed and rose to his feet, rushing outside the hut, his deep voice bellowed across the quiet village, “Call for the midwives! It’s time!”
Night descended over this small village once more, and the first snow of winter continued to gently fall, the ground already accumulating several inches from the past hours. The village was quiet, giving the illusion of tranquility, but within one lone hut, the atmosphere was tensed as you labored while several midwives tended to you.
“It won’t be long, child,” a midwife commented, checking the progress of your dilation. Another wiped at your sweat-soaked face with a cooling cloth, giving you a look of sympathy.
You whimpered and gritted your teeth as you breathed through the next pains.
“Easy, easy now,” you heard Sylus’ voice behind you. Cradled in between his long legs, you leaned back against his chiseled chest, panting heavily. You were grateful that he had insisted on staying with you in spite of the midwives’ initial opposition. With only one sharp glare from Sylus, he had everyone yielding to him, none daring to oppose the fearful warrior.
You felt Sylus caressing your small fingers in his hand, this simple act already keeping you grounded and calm. You whimpered quietly, “It hurts so much…”
He looked down at you helplessly. “I know, my beloved, but you’re doing so well. Stay strong.”
You moaned softly as you felt Sylus large hand massaging your hips, easing some of the pain, if only a little. As the minutes ticked by, you felt the pains getting closer and closer until you finally heard the words you were desperately waiting for:
“She is ready to deliver.”
You leaned further back against Sylus as he helped you get into position to start pushing. With your legs spread and propped up, you began pushing at the midwife’s urging. Your eyes widened as you felt the baby shifting inside, dropping lower.
“It…it feels so…big,” you gasped.
Before one of the younger midwives could make a quick remark regarding the genetics in Sylus’ family, he silenced her with a cold glare, making her cowered back. He looked down at you warmly, your hand in his. “That’s it, keep going…”
You pushed for several seconds longer, but honestly to you, it felt like an eternity. You could have sworn the pressure was intensifying, feeling the weight so heavy in your pelvis. Quick, short grunts left your lips as you bore down again. Once the pains ebbed, you collapsed back against Sylus, crying in frustration, “Nothing is happening!”
Sylus shushed you gently as the midwife reassured you that you were progressing well. You found it hard to believe. You panted softly, already feeling your energy drained. Sweat glistened down the sides of your face as you shut your eyes again, body tensing as the next pains arrived. You instinctively started pushing once more, feeling more progress being made this time. All around you, you heard hushed gasps and whispers, but you couldn’t comprehend anything said as you concentrated on birthing your baby.
Without a word, Sylus guided your hand lower and you felt between your legs. You opened your eyes in shock. “So much hair!” you exclaimed, laughing in spite of the agonizing pain you were feeling. Your fingers felt the little tufts of hair again. You couldn’t believe it. This was your baby’s. Your baby was right there.
For this brief instance, you felt your energy renewed as you gave your everything and bore down again, your laboring grunts heard throughout the room. As you pushed, your hand found Sylus’ again and you squeezed it tightly, his presence giving you the strength to persevere through this arduous ordeal.
“Just a little more,” he said, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck. “You are doing so well.”
Your efforts yielded slow result, feeling the baby emerging little by little. When the contractions subsided, you leaned back against Sylus for a brief reprieve, but instead of resting, you whined in frustration when you felt the baby receding a little and negating all of your progress just now.
Sylus whispered praises and encouragement soothingly to you as the midwives also assured you everything would be fine. You barely registered any of the voices, your body demanding your full attention again as you felt the next urge to push.
“Oh, gods…”
You panted softly, your eyes clenched shut as you put all of your focus into pushing out your baby again. You unconsciously squeezed Sylus’ hand, and then you let out a tired cry when you felt the baby’s head emerging fully. You trembled and sobbed, feeling a strange mixture of pain and relief in that moment. You could hear voices all around you encouraging you on, but the words meant nothing to you as you could only focus on the excruciating pain you were enduring.
“Here comes the shoulders, push, child, push!” the midwife’s voice rang loud in the room. You reflexively shook your head, begging silently to any merciful goddess who would take pity on you and end this suffering now.
“Please…I can’t…!” Your grip on Sylus’ hand tightened, your nails digging into his flesh. If he had felt any pain, he did not voice or show it. Instead, you felt his warm breath close to your ear, his soothing voice low and only audible to you.
“I know it hurts, my beloved, but you can’t stop now.” Sylus’ voice pulled you back, and you leaned against him crying softly. He rubbed you up and down, whispering more words of comfort and encouragement. “You’re so close, so close, a little more, my beloved, just a little more…our child is almost here…”
Your breathing was ragged, but you tried to gather what little strength you had left. In spite of your exhaustion, your body was already acting on instinct, already pushing again and you groaned lowly, feeling like you were being spread more and more, feeling each shoulder painfully coming out one at a time.
“Hah…hah…Sylus…ahh…”
“I’m here, I’m here, I won’t leave you,” he whispered, his eyes darting rapidly from your face to his baby slowly emerging from you. He seemed to have stopped breathing as he watched, awestruck, as the baby was born.
You collapsed back against him, sobbing in relief.
Not too long afterwards, the room resounded with the loud cry of a newborn.
“It’s a boy,” the midwife declared after cutting the cord that connected you and your son. The baby was immediately cleaned and prepared to be swaddled.
Sylus stilled at the announcement, the reality of the situation slowly settling in. His face broke out into a wide smile as he looked down at you. “A son, we have a son—”
The joy in the room was short-lived. Sylus was the first to notice you straining again, hearing your soft grunts and whines and seeing the pained look still on your face.
He was immediately tensed. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”
You gritted your teeth and then let out another strangled cry. “It still hurts!” You turned, burying your face against his chest again, sobbing. You couldn’t even rest for a moment as you felt the now all too familiar urge to push. You gasped and panted against Sylus’ chest. It couldn’t be…this couldn’t be happening…you had just given birth already…this couldn’t be happening—
“Another child!” One of the younger midwives cried out, alerting everyone else in the hut. There were shocked gasps and mutters as many crowded around while others continued to focus on your first baby who continued to cry.
“Twins,” another muttered, shocked, “She was carrying twins.”
The eldest and most experienced of the group quickly accessed the situation, already barking out orders, “Don’t just stand there! Hurry! Prepare for the second child!”
You did not know whether it was because of the first baby or not, but your second child was coming much quicker. You had no time to rest as your body was already straining again, already feeling that painful ring of fire as your next child started to emerge. Using the last of your strength, you leaned forward, chin to your chest and you bore down, your voice strained as you struggled. You rested for a few seconds and you continued again, and within just another three hard pushes, you delivered your second child, its cry almost immediately joining its older twin.
You fell back against Sylus once more, completely spent both physically but also emotionally. Sylus leaned down, his cheek nuzzling against yours, his praises plentiful.
“Twins?” he questioned, amazed. He kissed your cheek. “Rest, my beloved, rest, I love you.”
Not too long afterwards, the afterbirths were expelled from your body. You were immediately tended to, cleaned and cared for and showered in endless praises for your remarkable feat. You smiled wearily, barely conscious and barely registering any of the competing voices in the room. You had never felt an exhaustion such as this one.
Perhaps it was because of the long, strenuous hours of labor, but it felt like you were drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to decipher what was a dream and what was reality. You were drained entirely, but you knew you could not sleep just yet. You didn’t want to go to sleep right now. You wanted to see your babies. Babies.
You opened your eyes wearily, sensing an approaching figure. You looked up, confused, when the midwife handed you the two swaddled babies. You nervously took them both into your arms, staring down in amazement at the two small red-faced newborns fussing and cooing quietly.
You let out a choked gasp, your tears barely held back as you smiled down at your children. Your children. How surreal, how sweet, those words sounded to you.
“Identical sons,” the matronly midwife said, praising you warmly, “You did well, child.”
She helped you adjust to holding your babies, patiently explaining to you everything you needed to know. When one of your sons started crying again, she helped guide both babies to your nipples, and you gasped softly at feeling both of your sons latching on and suckling hungrily for their first meal. You could feel your milk flowing, entering hungry little mouths. You half-laughed and half-sobbed, unable to even comprehend fully the current surreal situation.
You felt so overwhelmed. You had given birth to not one, but two babies, and they were identical boys. You were now a mother to identical twin boys. You just could not seem to register that thought no matter how many times you repeated it in your head. You looked up at Sylus, and he smiled back just as helplessly, also unable to wrap his head around the current situation.
“Thank you,” he murmured instead, kissing your lips. He smiled tenderly as you gazed at him wonderstruck. “My beloved bride, you have given me not one but two sons.” He kissed you more deeply, drawing out your soft moans. He kept you in his warm, protective embrace for just a few minutes longer as the midwives cleaned the room and prepared for their leave.
He peered down at you and his children, his smile unwavering. For Sylus, there was no greater treasure in the world than the three treasures he now held in his arms. For you and for his children, Sylus was willing to face Heaven and Hell’s wrath, to do everything in his power to keep his beloved family safe and protected.
As he watched you nursed his children, his hand reached up, his finger gingerly stroking one of the twins’ cheek. The baby’s skin felt so soft and smooth and delicate. He was enthralled that these two beautiful little babies came from you, that you had went through such an arduous trial to bring his children into the world, and now you cradled them protectively against your breasts, letting them suckled the precious milk your body was providing for the newborns.
He had never seen such beauty and strength as this, and so it seemed the only thing he could do was willingly let himself fall deeper and deeper in love with you, his beloved.
In the center of the hut, there was a firepit. Flames danced within the space, warming the quaint home.
It had been a few hours since you had given birth, and after making sure both you and the babies were taken care of, everyone had left, including Sylus, leaving you alone with just your sons.
It was still so dark outside. Dawn would not break for a few more hours, so you wondered absently where your husband could have gone this late in the night. You did not idle on those thoughts for too long, your attention focused entirely on the babies you had just birthed hours ago.
You sat up in bed, gazing in wonder at the two sleeping babies sharing the wicker bassinet, still in awe that these two little ones came from your body, conceived from the love between you and Sylus. You smiled as you watched your babies sleep, unable to ignore that they were indeed bigger than most babies born in the village, but not so drastically as many had you fearing for months. You chuckled to yourself, unable to fully fathom how these two babies were inside you just this morning, and now they were asleep right next to you.
One of the twins started hiccupping, breaking you out of your spell. Instinctively, you took him into your arms, carefully holding him over your shoulder. You gently patted his small back, softly comforting your son with soothing words.
“Motherhood looks lovely on you.”
You looked up when you heard Sylus’ voice as he entered the hut covered in a light dusting of freshly-fallen snow. You noticed he was carrying a basket of food in one hand and an extra bassinet in the other. There was also a fur blanket strewn over his shoulder. You raised a brow in confusion, and he chuckled in response.
“Everyone’s been so kind,” he explained as he set everything where they needed to be. He adjusted the second bassinet next to the first one before turning to face you. You handed him the baby in your arms, watching as he carefully placed the infant in his own bassinet.
Almost immediately, both babies started fussing and crying softly. You laughed quietly as you leaned in closer to Sylus, your arms wrapped around his. “They have never slept away from one another before,” you remarked, finding the situation heartwarming.
Sylus nodded, smiling softly. He helped you back into bed to rest before he knelt down on the ground between the two bassinets. He lightly rocked both bassinets at the same time, pleased when his sons calmed down, the gentle motion lulling them back to sleep.
As you lay on your side, watching this sweet scene, you felt so much love and joy in your heart. You yawned softly, and at Sylus’ gentle urging, you allowed yourself to succumb to sleep as well.
When you opened your eyes again a few hours later, you saw the two newborns tucked in Sylus’ arms as he cradled and rocked them while pacing around the hut. His deep, gentle humming was joined only by the warm crackling fire in the hut and the soft whistling winter wind outside.
You felt at peace, as if the world had quieted down. This moment in time felt so surreal, like a sweet dream you never wished to wake up from.
“I love you,” you found yourself saying sleepily, alerting Sylus.
He smiled back and walked over, settling down in bed next to you. You sat up, taking one of the babies from Sylus. You leaned closer to him, gentle eyes flitting back and forth between the two identical babies you both held with so much love and adoration.
Warmer than the fire, you heard Sylus’ gentle murmur, “I love you, too, my beloved.”
The years had rolled by on the grassland, life remaining, more or less, unchanged. This era of prosperity continued with the village now under Sylus’ leadership. You had seen six springs passed since your marriage to Sylus, and from this union, you two were blessed again and again and again.
The warriors are home! came the familiar words from the village and carried all the way down to the field where the sheep grazed.
“Mother, Mother, Father is home! Father is home!” your children ran by you barefooted, many already leaving you behind to rush to the village entrance.
Your twins helped you to your feet, and your hand settled on the large, round bump you carried once more. Another child was on the way. Your seventh.
Swaddled and resting on your back was your sixth, barely ten months old. He cooed happily, seemingly sensing his older siblings’ excitement. You smiled, always delighting in hearing your children’s sweet laughter.
You carefully made your way back to the village, listening fondly as your twins chatted and laughed. They were the spitting image of their father from head to toes, and while they inherited little of your physical appearance, they gained many of your mannerisms and quirks instead.
When you and the twins finally arrived at the village square, a crowd had already formed. After months apart, families were reunited again. This familiar scene had played out so many times before in the past, and yet you never tired of it. As always, there would be a celebration, for the glory and victories these brave men have brought home, but more importantly, to celebrate families reuniting once more.
As you and the twins treaded through the dense crowd, you saw your beloved husband towering in the center. Sylus already had his youngest daughter—barely three—sitting on his shoulders, her little legs swung over his shoulders and her small hands tugging at his hair happily. Your other daughter and son danced circles around their father asking for their turn to be held by him. You laughed softly as you witnessed Sylus’ overjoyed but helpless expression as he tried to accommodate his children.
At the sound of your familiar laughter, Sylus looked up. Seeing your approaching figure, his crimson eyes lit up with joy. He carefully set his daughter down to join her siblings. The twins immediately left your side and ran to their father cheering and already showering him with questions and praises. He greeted his sons affectionately, kneeling down to embrace all of his children and accept their kisses.
Your youngest son was now held in your arms, balanced on your hip as you stood in your place. You gazed at Sylus with the same love and joy as the spring when you had married him. Sylus slowly stood up, sighing blissfully as he took in the sight of you round and heavy again with his child.
“I’m home,” he said the familiar words warmly, and your heart swelled with happiness and love.
“Welcome home,” you responded fondly, smiling as he crossed the distance with just a few short strides. He gathered you into his arms, enveloping you in a familiar warmth and scent only he possessed. You sighed happily against him, only broken out of your daze when you heard your youngest son giggling. He squirmed against you as he held his little arms out for his father. You smiled as Sylus took the baby boy from you, easily holding him in one arm.
Beneath the azure sky, in his loving embrace, you remembered a story Sylus had once told, a memory that was yet to come. The sweet bell-like laughter of your children was carried on the playful wind across the luscious grassland. Surely this moment must be it, you thought, unable to fathom a greater happiness than this.
Sylus knelt down before you, his lips touching your growing belly fondly, his touch gentle and loving.
“My beloved.”
You looked down lovingly at your husband, your heart beating quietly for him as he gently guided your youngest son’s hand to your round belly. He spoke softly to the baby boy, his voice sweet and tender. Sylus looked up, the depths of his love for you reflected in his crimson eyes.
In this moment, you also recalled the elders had long ago told tales of a paradise after life, but you wondered how there could be a greater heaven than the one on the grassland with your lover—your destined half.
Sylus.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace fanfiction#love and deepspace x reader#sylus x reader#lnds fanfics#sylus smut#x — fanfics#me realizing this is the second sylus fic where you guys planted a seed in my head#and it turned into a 10k+ word fic#am i#am i just#that easy to coerce???#is the sylus chokehold that bad?????#(yes)#(but that’s ok)#(my soft sylus agenda will live on heck yeah)#(ok bye thank you for reading stay hydrated you lovely lovely ppl <3)
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i just think they should wear cute summer outfits and go on little summer dates together that's all
#imodna#Imogen temult#laudna#critical role#critical role fanart#cr3#bells hells#i really love them and i miss them when are you girls gonna KISS#also welcome to my very tall/very short imodna agenda thank you#i tried to emulate their colour palettes but as modern-ish outfits so it kind of reads the same as their in game og outfits#also goth gf x cowboy gf really is the moment
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me, putting jason grace in my pocket: they expect you to top? even when considering your internal character struggles? in this economy?
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Thoughts on akutagawa being drawn with no highlights in his eyes, hair, coat, or on rashomon,,,like everything is drawn pure black? I like when he's drawn a little bit like not-human--contrasts real well with Atsushi's dilemma of being a tiger, personally thinking. Also like when he's drawn like a void. Little bit like the cryptid creachur he is. I think you wrote something about it in the tags on panels in his introduction in the Manga. I like to think other characters also see him the way we see him so his void ass scares the fuck out of others too. Man's skeevin and tweakin even in his design
I'm OBSESSED with Akutagawa's design. Look at him. This is what he looks like on a white background:
And this is what he looks like on a black background:
It's BRILLIANT. He literally disappears in the black. He's the ultimate monster. In his appearance, he embodies what above all is most scary for the human psyche: the darkness, the unknown. The way Harukawa took advantage of the the art rule of never using pure black by breaking it in the most clever way! No light gets reflected on him, because his form absorbs everything– is absolute darkness. Visually, his figure itself is Rashomon eating everything it encounters, and it's genius.
He is so nightmare coded. I love his big, inscrutable eyes that look like two voids, two black holes. I love how oftentimes you can't tell where Rashomon ends and where he starts, I love how sick and unhealthy he looks. I love how he looks scruffy like an abandoned dog. I love how young he looks– way younger than he is. It gives the impression of a ghost, someone who was killed before growing up and is now stuck with his young appearance no matter how many centuries pass.
I adore everything about these chapter 33 pages. The way he initially appears as just a single black shape, hardly resembling a human. His crunched, unnatural stance. The staggering. The way you can feel with your senses the thick and sticky blood. The top picture is the left page of the manga, so just imagine the visual impact of turning the page to be hit with an almost full-black page- it's meant to impress, it's meant to shake. The way he's one with the darkness: no textures on him, only white making out his outlines. The way you can't tell where his coat ends. His left arm hanging numb, limp, lifeless, inhuman. The spurts of blood on his face. His smile, how you won't notice it at first and how that makes it all the more disquieting; its juxtaposition with the violence that surrounds him and that he is the cause of. The way he covers his face, the impressions of hiding and looming. His face being split, which only adds to the horror elements. Akutagawa's character design as a whole is an ode to the gothic and grotesque.
And then this. Hello??????????????? The progression from how Akutagawa used to be to the last time we saw him alive is astonishing. It's upsetting. It really makes me wanna cry from a technical execution standpoint alone (imagine from a plot related standpoint). All the black is now replaced with predominant white, everywhere. His shirt is white and candid and pure, emphasizing contrast with the splash of blood in a way that almost results sickening. The blood on him is his this time. His face looks rounder, and healthier, and he overall looks more mature. His smile is sincere and genuine, it's light, it's affectionate. This scene is the culmination of Akutagawa's character both visually and thematically: the monster, Akutagawa, too, can be good, and arguably had good within him since the very start. Does it really matter if he lives after this? His character already developed to be the best version of himself‚ and this panel here is the proof.
Further readings: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)
#Sorry I blacked out and now it's been three hours#Don't kill me over the last line akdbfjksndjeks I love Akutagawa I swear#No wait I think I got it: Me 🤝 Atsushi → bullying Akutagawa as love language#ryūnosuke akutagawa#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd ch 04#bsd ch 33#bsd ch 88#Me: I will NOT compare chapter 88 panel Akutagawa to an angel. That is NOT something I'm willing to do.#bsd analysis#people asks me stuff#Thank you for the ask!!!#Actually someone reblogged a post from me with a very clever addition about Akutagawa's physical appearance#I haven't gotten around to reblogging it yet because I wanted to take a good read to it but it was very clever!!#I'll try to reblog it as soon as possible#I also love how half the time his coat will just look like a gown. I adore it.#I love his heels. He does have a very feminine figure‚ in a way– especially in how thin / feeble he looks.#It's real fuel for my transmasc Akutagawa agenda#Back to Anon's words– I only have a very very vague memory of writing tags about this it must have been from a very old post?
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Hey Nora Sakavic, I just finished The Sunshine Court. Thanks.
#i love the world nora has written with all my heart#it is beautiful and dark and full of love#it is mean and full of bad people#but it is more about good people and full hearts#and i just love that all of these characters live so much outside of these stories#and i love how every book is an essay on being hurt and getting better#how to say thanks for writing something worth reading#i will never know how#thank you#the sunshine court#all for the game#jean moreau#neil josten#jeremy knox#kevin day#nora sakavic#berry agenda rise
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I doubt Charles and Max ever could be friends. Both are too competitive and I feel like Max would stop being too nice to Charles once things doesn’t go his way. I know everyone believes it’s Charles who would hate Max again if they start to fight for Championship again but for me it’s Max, he already showed annoyance toward Charles in those moments.
Hey anon! Thanks for sending something in, but damn, prickly topic. I have some time on my hands now so I’m going to go extra in depth with my thoughts on this
It’s quite difficult to speculate on the future state of their relationship, because we’re dealing with a lot of hypotheticals and we quite literally only know what they decide to show us, publicly. For all we know, they could secretly be besties who text every night. Though, I do agree with you (or what you implied) that they aren’t friends on a personal level right now. Honestly, I think they don’t have much in common beyond racing, if you look at their friends and their passions outside of motorsport. But then again, racing is and has always been a huge part of who they are, it is pretty much the core of who they are right now, and as drivers, Max&Charles are very similar. So outside of racing I don’t think they interact much, but within racing I see their relationship as two people who vibrate on the same wavelength. And that produces, yk, the Maxsplaining and Leclerifying.
As for whether there will be hatred between them if they have a tense title fight, I tend towards not at all, or not to a level that destroys their relationship as friendly colleagues. First, the stakes going into 2024 are simply not equal. If this were Charles and Max fighting for their first title, and only one of them could get it, I would place my bets on a Lestappen downfall. I do agree with you that both of them are crazily competitive, but Max has already won… trice. I’m not saying that this means he doesn’t want to win anymore, but he quite literally doesn’t have much to prove left. He’s just had the most dominant season in the history of the sport, the next step up would be like a complete win whitewash and I’d actually quit watching f1 forever if that happens. I don’t feel that Max is the sort of driver who’s aiming to break records for WDCs held, and I’m basing this off his comments about retirement and being bored at the front this season. From what I’ve seen, Max is a racing nerd. To him, the thrills are just as important as the accolades and that’s significant because he’s already collected a bucketload of accolades. And so I don’t think a 3 time WDC Max would resent Charles for giving him a close title fight. I also feel that from his comments in interviews about acknowledging that “everyone can be stopped”, his ego isn’t as large as some people make it out to be. But I also can’t really think of any recent instances of Max showing irritation towards Charles apart from on the radio in Vegas 23, and the overall race proved that Max does enjoy Charles taking the challenge to him. It’s probably because I don’t follow Max too closely, so feel free to update me haha.
As for whether Max would U-turn on his love-peace-Charles agenda if Charles presented a real title fight to him, ignoring my somewhat shallow Max knowledge, I’d point to Bahrain 2022 as an example that Max isn’t that insecure. It was the first race of the season, the Red Bulls DNFed, Charles won, but they were still all smiles and Max even took the initiative to come up to Charles to chat (on live tv). This ties back to the point above, that the stakes for Max aren’t as high anymore so we see less Mad Max. I’d also add that Max has been very consistent in showing that he sincerely admires Charles’ skill as a driver, I’d go as far as to say that Max respects Charles the most in the current grid. I’m pretty sure you can pick any year from 2018-2023 and Max has done at least one interview in which he praises Charles’ talent. And this brings me to what Max said in 2018 predicting that he and Charles will be “like Hamilton and Vettel, fighting for titles in the future”, which aptly illustrates how Max&Charles are, in my opinion, the most prepared to have a tense title fight without developing personal grudges. People like calling them the reverse Brocedes, I can certainly see it. Circling back to the very first point about them not being friends, they have always been rivals first. They’ve had over a decade of experience going into races and championships and seeing the other as “Max/Charles, who I have to beat”. They’re competitors with a healthy amount of hard-earned respect for each other, and I do believe them when they say that they’ve matured beyond petty rivalries. That is basically the tl;dr of this very long thing.
I don’t see why Charles, who is going into 2024 with the awareness that he’ll have to beat Max to win the WDC, would become resentful of Max in the process. Likewise, I don’t think Max, who has already proven himself, would be mad that his childhood rival who he rates very highly, beat him to a title. I think it’s important that they aren’t friends, as you said, because then there are no expectations or trust to betray and their professional relationship can be maintained.
The only scenarios I see happening where they fall out because of the title fight are if 1) either one of them decides to drive dirty and the FIA turns a blind eye (haha.) 2) they magically regress into their 15 year old selves and Charles shoves Max into the marina in Abu Dhabi in Val D’Argenton 2.0
#lestappen#…i wrote a lot. if you read everything thanks!!#all in all we literally don’t know what will happen we’re all just speculating for fun#we don’t know them and are just analysing what they’ve given us 🤷🏻♀️#we will only know for certain when ferrari gets their shit together and becomes a competent team#either way my enjoyment of lestappen is secondary to my charles leclerc wdc agenda#asks
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y'know what i mean?
#vip#very important people#vic michaelis#kimia behpoornia#fourth witch#witches hairflipping cinematic universe#but i'm not putting this in the wicked tag thank you very much#t-shirt that reads 'talk to me about my host!vic/glinda parallels agenda'
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Kingdom of Ash Chapter 51
He didn't care, didn't marvel that he was soon to be airborne on one of those incredible beasts. Didn't care that tomorrow, they would all take on the dark army gathered beyond.
He'd fought in more battles, more wars, than he cared to remember. Tomorrow would be little different, save for the demons they'd slay, rather than men or Fae.
Demons like his former queen, apparently.
He had offered himself to her, had wanted her, or believed he did. And she had laughed at him. He didn't know what it meant. About her, about himself.
He'd thought his darkness, Hellas's gifts, had been drawn to her, that they'd been matched.
Perhaps the dark god had wanted him not to swear fealty to Maeve, but to kill her. To get close enough to do so.
Lorcan didn't adjust his cape against the gust of frigid air off the distant lake. Rather, he leaned into the cold, into the ice on the wind. As if it might rip away the truth.
There was no fear or pity on her face, her black hair gilded by the torches and campfires. Of all of them, she'd mastered the news with little difficulty, stepping up to the desk as if she'd been born on a battlefield.
"I didn't know," he said, voice strained.
Elide knew what he meant. "We have bigger things to worry about anyway."
He took a step toward her. "I didn't know," he said again.
She tipped her head back to study his face and pursed her mouth, a muscle ticking in her jaw. "Do you want me to give you some sort of absolution for it?"
"I served her for nearly five hundred years. Five hundred years, and I just thought her to be immortal and cold."
"That sounds like the definition of a Valg to me."
He bared his teeth. "You live for eons and see what it does to you, Lady."
"I don't see why you're so shocked. Even with her being immortal and cold, you loved her. You must have accepted those traits. What difference does it make what we call her, then?"
"I didn't love her."
"You certainly acted like you did."
Lorcan snarled, "Why is that the point you keep returning to, Elide? Why is it the one thing you cannot let go of?"
"Because I'm trying to understand. How you could come to love a monster."
"Why?" He pushed into her space. She didn't balk one step.
Indeed, her eyes were blazing as she hissed, "Because it will help me understand how I did the same."
Her voice snagged on the last words, and Lorcan stilled as they settled into them. He'd never ... he'd never had anyone who-
"Is it a sickness?" she demanded. "Is it something broken within you?"
"Elide." Her name was a rasp on his lips. Lorcan dared reach a hand for her. But she pulled out of reach. "If you think that because you swore the blood oath to Aelin, it means anything for you and me, you're sorely mistaken. You're immortal-I'm human. Let us not forget that little fact, either."
Lorcan nearly recoiled at the words, their horrible truth. He was five hundred years old He should walk away—he shouldn't be so damned bothered by any of this. And yet Lorcan snarled, "You're jealous. That's what truly eats away at you."
Elide barked a laugh that he'd never heard before, cruel and sharp. "Jealous? Jealous of what? That demon you served?" She squared her shoulders, a wave cresting before it smashed into the shore. "The only thing that I am jealous of, Lorcan, is that she is rid of you."
Lorcan hated that the words landed like a blow. That he had no defenses left where she was concerned. "I'm sorry," he said. "For all of it, Elide." There, he'd said it, and laid it out before her. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
But Elide's face did not warm. "I don't care," she said, turning on her heel. "And I don't care if you walk off that battlefield tomorrow.
"I have never heard Lorcan apologize for anything. Even when Maeve whipped him for a mistake, he did not apologize to her."
"And that means he earns my forgiveness?"
"No. But you have to realize that he swore the blood oath to Aelin for you. For no one else. So he could remain near you. Even knowing well enough that you will have a mortal lifespan."
The birds shifted on their feet, rustling their wings in anticipation of flight. She knew. Had known it the moment he'd knelt before Aelin. Weeks later, Elide hadn't known what to do with it, the knowledge that Lorcan had done this for her. The longing to talk to him, to work with him as they had. She'd hated herself for it. For not trying to hold on to her anger longer.
It was why she'd gone after him tonight.
Not to punish him, but herself. To remind herself of who he'd sold their queen to, how profoundly mistaken she had been.
And her parting line to him ... it was a lie.
A disgusting, hateful lie.
Elide turned to Gavriel again. "I don't—" The Lion was gone. And for the cold flight over the army, then over the sea of darkness spread between it and the ancient city, even that wise voice who had whispered for the entirety of her life had gone quiet.
#Chapter 51#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#Lorcan Salvaterre#Elide Lochan#Nesryn Faliq#Sartaq#Nestaq#Elorcan but ow#same with cadre today#Aelin Galathynius#Rowan Whitethorn#Gavriel#Fenrys Moonbeam#no spoilers please first read along with me chapter spoilers in post and tags with reacts quotes etc#Rule of ruk-didn’t care-he loved her-born on a battlefield-history of darkness cut through-I know-your a monster&i love you/hate me 4 it#A wave-no defenses for her-it was a lie-where’s Havilliard now-too quiet-all the fires-#FIVE HUNDRED YEARS-Hellas blessing or curse?-what she really was-she’d mastered it-it mattered to him#break my heart in an emo pit of doom why don’t you#why we gotta go pull an HoF ow move like that#There he'd said it and laid it out before her.—for all of it—I’m sorry—*I love you*#The Lion's usually warm face was grave-disapproving. You might as well have kicked a male already down.#Gavriels speech just split my soul in half#Gavriels speech just split my soul in half-what left-no more voices of reason#at least there’s happy Salkhi-Terrasen agenda thank you friend-A fine commander you are mooning over the Fae like a doe-eyed girl.#I wish I could go with them Borte sighed from where she was rubbing down Arcas. To fight alongside the Fae.#It would be unseemly for you to kill your own husband-poisoned sweetness-I'll just have to kill you some other time then#At least they're a little more clear about it nowI'm as confused as ever#And a day of death has made me want to hold you-giving her that disarming grin she had no defenses against#The prince lunged so fast for the brush Borte had discarded that Nesryn laughed
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a fellow english major, really happy to see someone who's proud of their degree <3
you know that "no love, no matter how brief, is wasted" line? i think the same applies for knowledge too - no matter how useless it may seem, knowledge acquired is never in vain.
#honestly like. idk what your age is but when i was attending uni i kept getting told that i shouldve gone for IT. because the future#- and the money - is there.#now look at the IT companies. the whole thing is crumbling#not to mention the arrogance. that IT degree didnt make you immune to the same old scam tactics did it. how are your nfts doing btw#honestly i never really expected it myself that a humanities degree would prove useful in a daily life type of way#like. sure i knew it wasnt useless but still. its entirely different to experience it in real time yknow#and the whole new wave ''it isnt that deep'' trend is honestly pretty dangerous bc there usually IS something deeper.#a narrative an agenda a propaganda etc.... or simply just capitalist greed#so its needed to read between the lines and see what the point/intention really is#- and thats what literary and other art analysis is making you do! it makes you stop and think#this is all not even mentioning all the political historical and cultural stuff we learned about all the anglo-saxon countries#which all prove to be pretty useful in light of recent events......#so yeah. anyway. dont listen to all those who say its useless (and theres a lot of those even among the ones who chose this major too)#its clearly not. but even if it were it wouldnt matter ehat they think#(i do wish tho that i couldve attended it already on the right meds bc i feel like i forgot A Lot bc of my mental state at the time#but oh well. what can you do)#thank you for the ask it was really nice of you 💞💞💞#ask#anon
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smile for the camera (and keep your fingers crossed) Chapter 2: Interrogations, Interviews, and Impromptu Not-A-Dates
So instead of the food trucks, he’d bought a sandwich and a soda from the convenience store (and maybe a magazine too, shut up, he needs the physical proof that yes, he had in fact kissed Klavier Gavin). He’d also bought a pair of nondescript sunglasses and a baseball hat, in the hopes that he’d have a good enough disguise to head back to the office without being recognized. What Apollo Justice had failed to account for, however, was the fact that unlike in the movies, paparazzi aren’t stupid.
Well. Whoops! Didn't mean to take so long to post this chapter, but...here we are, more than a whole year later. Hopefully the chapter's interesting enough to make up for it?
In all seriousness, thank you so much to everyone who's read, commented, and reminded me that there are people out there waiting for the continuation of the story. Somehow I thought I'd already posted the start of this chapter?? Maybe I just thought about doing it so much that I thought it had happened already.
But anyway...I'm going to make sure the gap between this chapter and the next is significantly shorter--you guys deserve to not have to wait for annual fic updates, lmao
As ever, huge thanks to @cubedmango for providing some incredible spot art! And for understanding the "oops, what do you mean i didn't post that?" moment I went through like two weeks ago.
#lucy's thoughts#my writing#klapollo#klavier gavin#apollo justice#klapollo fanfic#ace attorney#ace attorney fanfic#me: yeah the part i left off on was right after the ramen date right?#me actually checking the fic: WAIT FUCK#thanks for the patience though#it's been a busy year and my brain has been all over the place#i think ive mentioned before but i always intend to finish all my wip fics#even the ones i never finished from when i was 12 years old on ff.net lmao#should i give up on those ones? yes! but something in my mind just goes 'what if?'#next on the agenda: the jukebox musical fic's final chapter#and writing the next half of the next chapter of this fic#and so on so forth#ANYWAY hi people who read all the tags#how soon is too soon to reread a book after you finish it#for example: if a book youve been waiting almost a year for just came out today and you read all of it already#should you wait until tomorrow to reread it?#should you reread the whole series again?#these are my questions i guess#ANYWAY ENJOY THE FIC
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️
<3 <3 <3 ty <3 <3 <3
I'll keep this to dragon age fics since we're on the dragon age sideblog here
Out of the Game - After years serving as a Grey Warden in Orlais, Loghain is reassigned to the Free Marches under Warden Stroud. Which is why, in a small Starkhaven tavern, the Hero of River Dane found himself sitting down to drink with a Chevalier. 1.6k
This was the first fic of mine that made it out of the google docs and onto ao3. It's the only thing about Loghain and Stroud being wardens together that I've posted (so far) but oh boy are my headcanons / scraps of my multichapter fic elaborate.
2. Dignity - Vivienne grieves for Bastien and struggles to find the right words to inform his family of his death. Josephine helps her. 1.1k
This is my take on Vivienne and Josephine's friendship. I just think those two would understand each other very well.
3. A Beginner's Guide to Orlesian Etiquette - If the Inquisitor is going to survive at the Winter Palace, he is going to need a crash course in all things Orlesian.
“My dear, you’re from Ostwick – the height of your culture involves chasing a large wheel of sweaty cheese down a hill.”
The Inquisitor grinned, “I won that once.”
Vivienne did not look impressed. 1.2k
Look, I think this is funny and maybe that's enough haha. It's me imagining my Inquisitor Adaar preparing for Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts.
4. Campfire - On the road to Redcliffe, Warden Tabris and Loghain drink together in camp. Tabris has a question about the Night Elves. 2.1k
This is just a long conversation between my Warden Tabris and Warden Loghain before the end of Origins.
and finally my beloved WIP that I WILL finish one day...
5. A Blind Eye - Niall’s quiet life in Kinloch Hold depends on ignoring a lot of what the other mages get up to - then he receives a strange invitation from Senior Enchanter Uldred and realises just how much about the tower he's been overlooking. 48.2k (so far)
Yeah so remember Niall, the guy whose body you get the Litany of Adralla off during the mage tower questline in Origins? For some reason I wrote all this about him haha.
This is from Niall's PoV but its really an exploration of what Uldred (and Jowan and Anders) were up to in the run-up to Uldred's rebellion. Aka exactly how Niall ended up with the Litany.
#thank you for this - this was fun!#and if it inspires anyone to give a Blind Eye a read then do let me know <3#that fic is my baby but i'm well aware its a hard sell bc its stupidly niche#(and still a wip lmao)#Also I love any chance to talk about my Loghain/Stroud agenda#asked & answered
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Counting Freckles (on ao3)
Summery: Ava counting Bea's frekles with a tiny hint of hurt
"What are you doing?" Bea whispers when she notices Ava's lips move. Not that she has a reason to be staring at them in the first place.
"Counting your freckles" Ava breathes out - reaching over to grab Bea's chin and steady her face "Stop moving you'll make me lose count." she mutters eyes not leaving her cheeks.
"That's ridiculous." Bea smiles shaking her head - a beat - she bites her lip only to fail and ask "What number are you on?" eyes searching for Ava's while trying so hard not to get lost in them.
"Thirty seven... Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty.... Forty-two." she stops - letting her thumb linger a little too long over Bea's chin before she reaches out and gently touches a spot on Bea's left cheek, "This one is my favorite." she whispers.
"Why?" Bea finds herself asking - she never thought about what her favorite freckle was - hell she hates the fact she had freckles. Her mother would always say they looked like disgusting moles grown all across her face adding to the ugliness.
"It looks like a little heart." Ava answers - sending yet another shiver down Bea's spine because how can a human being be so cute??
"Oke" she manages to squeak out - hoping that Ava can't tell how hot Beatrice's face flushes and how nothing can make her look away from Ava’s eyes.
"What's your favorite?" Ava asks - MOVING CLOSER. Sorry ma'am but have you ever heard of peRSoNaL sPaCe??
"Uh." she finds herself stumbling over her words - searching for anything to light up in her stupid useless brain "I don't have one." she mutters. Breaking the eye contact.
Damn this is embarrassing. Why is Ava’s pure existence making her _shy_??
"Why not?" and Bea's chin lifts. A gentle thumb hesitantly brushing across her cheek. And for a short moment Beatrice could swear to the gods above that Ava bit down on her lip and made her voice lower.
Is god really pulling all his strings to test her - going lengths even Lucifer wouldn't??
Maybe being god's toughest soldier came with greater consequences than she thought she would have to face.
"I never really liked them." she rasps out. Oh, yes Beatrice. Make it weird now. That's what you tell your best friend who is also the most beautiful person in the world and also the person that is single-handedly changing your entire life.
"But they are beautiful Bea." AND AVA SHIFT EVEN CLOSER. OH MY GOD. WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME? WHY HAVE YOU MADE ME THIS WAY?
If Beatrice manages to get into heaven despite all the sinning she has down and is quite literally doing right now she will kick that fucker so hard off the face of the earth - for making her suffer and suffer with every given day.
Who gave him the right to just spawn this angelic being and call it a day as if he didn't just create Beatrice's downfall in form of a beautiful, breathtaking brilliant human-being?
"You are beautiful. Why can't you see that?" Ava asks, grabbing Bea's hand and drawing little circles around her knuckles.
"I-" she really didn't want to make this about herself. She wasn't ready to say all of those things running on repeat in her head out loud. Not to Ava. Not to the sweetest, most beautiful and quite frankly the strongest person alive. Or - resurrected. Same thing.
"How can I - when being blessed with your existence?" she asks and Ava looks up from their intertwined hands, eyes a little wide - continuing to play around with Bea's fingers.
There's silence and for a short second, she thinks she fucked up. She thinks she jinxed it and failed. She can already feel the regret crawl up her throat and the guilt and shame that will follow before she falls asleep. There is no running for the truth. She can try to deny it, but it never helps in the long run. Only makes things worse.
"Then you probably haven't seen yourself." Ava smiles and Bea can breathe again - filling her lungs with fresh air because maybe she didn't destroy their relationship entirely
"I know for a fact that angles exist but if I didn't - then you might be the closest thing to an angel someone could imagine. Including your cute as fuck freckles." she murmurs looking down at their intertwined hands again.
And there's silence. Beatrice doesn't really know what to do or say. "Language." is everything that comes out. But there's a smile on her face and she doesn't really mean it
Is she supposed to say thank you? Ava clearly doesn't know what she was talking about. If she knew Bea deep down, she would probably leave and not even turn back. But would she? It's Ava. The equivalent of a golden retriever.
Ava doesn't seem like she has something to say either - focused on their hands and fiddling around with them - tracing over the scars on Bea's fingers and counting the freckles on them.
"I can feel you thinking you know." she says after some time - jolting Bea out of her thoughts.
"Hm?"
"Stop thinking." Ava repeats and Beatrice doesn't know what to answer so she turns to lay on her back staring at the ceiling - letting her hand stay in Ava’s. It is soothing - she likes that.
"I know you don't believe me." Ava starts "And I know you can't just throw away years of emotional repression. And I know I can't take the voices in your head and make them stop." she says and sHuFFles cLosEr until her head in laying on Beatrice's shOuLdeR "But I will repeat it every single day until you believe me."
Beatrice stays quiet - thankful that the tear that drops is on the other side of her face.
"You are beautiful Beatrice. And you are strong and elegant and perfect just the way you are. I know you deprive yourself of any kind of affection or love but you are worthy of love and affection without having a reason. I know that. You showed me." and she reaches over to turn Bea's face - to make her look at her "Let me love you when you can't love yourself." gentle fingers brush over cheek, and then cradle her head, curling around her neck as their foreheads press together.
And.
She wants to believe her - so so hard - she would do anything to make herself believe what Ava just said. But crying in front of the halo bearer isn't another burden she wants to throw at Ava.
Shuffling to get out of Ava's grasp she finds herself getting pulled further into her best friend's embrace.
A silent plea hangs unsaid in the air when Ava wraps her hand around Bea's wrist and waits a second for a response.
There is none except Beatrice's tears building up - watering her view - the familiar feeling of eyes burning and a snivel making its way to her throat.
"Bea..." is all Ava says before she gently coaches Bea's head to her chest - pulling her into an embrace - enveloping herself around Beatrice.
For some reason it feels nothing like the books taught her it would feel like.
Their limbs fall into place like fitting puzzle pieces and Bea hides her head right under Ava’s chin, just in time for the halo-bearer to not see the tears slide down her cheeks.
Her cheeks burn and for a few moments she just wants the earth to open up and swallow her alive.
It's too much. And she needs air - and she needs something cold to hold onto, like a sink or a table.
But for the first time in her life she feels safe. And she doesn't want to let go - gripping onto the pullover Ava is wearing. Breathing in the all too familiar vanilla perfume Ava practically bathes in. It grounds her - the hand in her hair calming her even more.
"I am so sorry." she hears Ava whisper, and a cold hand rests on the small of her back, giving her a much-needed point to focus on.
She is the one who should apologise, for smearing snot all over Ava's pullover, and for overreacting, and for crying on her and for so many other reasons that Ava will deny the need of an apology before it has even exited her mouth.
"For your pain." she whispers, but Beatrice can only mutter a wet "Hhm."
The hand that was playing with her hair now sliding down to bury itself in Bea's scalp and gently scratch.
...And it feels safe. She feels safe. Doesn't resist the little kiss on her hair, doesn't try to leave again. There are hands touching her and she doesn't flinch away.
It's overwhelming, too many hands, too soft, too much warmth. But it also feels like what she imagines being embraced by an angel would feel like.
"You are holding me like a baby right now." she mumbles around the snot in her nose. Tucking her head further under Ava's chin because a little Ava-hair tickles her neck.
"You deserve to be held like a baby." Ava whispers, drawing a little star on the small of Beatrice's back.
There is silence again. Beatrice nearly thinks Ava is asleep. And she wants to get up and clean up, dry the scratchy tears off her face and maybe also off Ava's neck. But she fears Ava won't want to hold her again and somehow it seems like the worst thing that could ever happen.
As selfish as it is, Beatrice can deal with the guilt some other day.
"Ava," her best friend just hums "Thank you." she murmurs.
A beat.
"Bea-" there is something in her voice that makes Bea's stomach twist. In a good way of course, not a medically concerning one "Anytime."
And she doesn't know what to say. Settles on following Ava's calming breaths.
"I didn't get to count all your freckles." Ava huffs softly, Beatrice can only chuckle wetly against the warm skin her cheek is pressed into, "You can count them tomorrow, Darling." it slips. Before she can panic, Ava makes a little happy noise that is so goddamn cUtE Beatrice could melt through the floor and it still wouldn't be enough.
"Comfy?"
Beatrice just nods, "Good night BooBoo."
The tears are slowly drying, still there but barely. She snivels. God this shouldn't feel so good should it?
"Good night Ava."
There's a little grumble, "Call me Darling."
And Beatrice sighs, a little smile forming on her face as she whispers "Good night Darling."
As if Ava's little content squeak isn't enough to end her, she also drops a little kiss on Beatrice's head and Beatrice hopes so hard that God isn't watching right now. Or that it's so dark He misses the blush creep up her neck.
Fingers curling around the side of her neck and the palm flattening on the small of her back she grips onto the silky pullover Ava is wearing. Soft snores and vanilla perfume lulling her to sleep.
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Everyone else: hope u had fun reading! :D
Beta read by @shy-forceghost and @oneandonlyollie . I love u very much thank you. Have this as a present :D
#Broski Freedle and Ollie I love you thanks for beta reading <333#sister beatrice#ava silva#Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva#Set in Switzerland#warrior nun#warrior nun saved#Set during season 2#hurt!bea agenda#hurt!bea server#hurt bea#my writing#writing#one shot
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uh oh besties, i committed a little too hard to the bit and its not a bit anymore
#this is directed to my blaze x retiree committee agenda#thinking about blaze constantly trying to convince others (and himself) that he Is a hero and that he Does want to help people#yes he knows that the people he works for arent squeaky clean#nor does he always agree that theyre doing the right thing#but he wants to and doesnt that count for something????#thinking about how that reflects on caine(theyre a terrible villain but they Are a villain. he has to be. theres nothing else he can be).#thinking about how how that reflects on ortega(its not an act it Cant be. maybe if they try hard enough it can be real)#thinking about how that reflects on chen(wasnt that him just a few years ago? didnt he put that much faith in the system? didnt he believe-#-he was well and truly doing the right thing in the best way they could?)#blaze is a hero that forces them to question who they are and why theyre doing what theyre doing#thank you for reading my “please blaze ro malin please” essay#pulp speaks#ship: the retiree committee#captain blaze
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Ykno it's interesting seeing ppl being like "how is Akechi/Joker winning..." literally most of our fandom is like. Insane lmao. Just bc you haven't seen it doesn't mean it isn't influential for polls
#speculation nation#and tumblr akeshu nation looks Normal when you compare it to twitter akeshu nation#really that's the thing. we're quiet in comparison to our twitter counterparts. but we still exist#in other news my screenshot additions seem to have genuinely had an impact in that poll & that's fun#makes me feel Powerful... but tbh it was mostly the getting it to other goroboys that really swayed it#thank U andi for spreading the akeshu agenda#we probably arent gonna win against homura and madoka lmao but getting to round 3 would be enough of an accomplishment itself#i never see persona getting far in any of these polls. so i wanna see it for once!!!#my real ship im rooting for tho is narusasu. i think they have a genuine chance to beat this#(secret fun fact if youve read this far. i was actually the one to submit the narusasu description hfkshf)#(i was just shy so i stayed anonymous)#(yes i submitted an akeshu one no it didnt make it in the post. that's ok tho)#anyways tumblr polls r fun. i love rooting for competitors in competitions that ultimately mean Nothing#just for the fun of it! that's what matters
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your speciality is big [redacted] pierre and making me explore ships I'd never even considered before 😌
BIG [REDACTED] PIERRE is this who we are…. Yes. i’ve done it to charles too. and oscar piastri. live laugh love gaudy big [redacted] porn on ao3
and getting people into ships is my #1 agenda this is how i get content. i will drag everyone kicking and screaming to the dark side (loscar) with the power of thousands and thousands of words of fic
thing
#ask#i do have agendas thank you for noticing#the red parts seemed to be my most convibcing endeavor#everyone loves secret omega#read the red parts#or don’t idk#READ DRUGSTORE PERFUME
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