#crop circles and the universe

[compassionmattersmost]

Patterns of Wonder: A Connection to the Cosmos

As I gaze upon yet another crop circle formation, I am struck by the sheer complexity and precision of its design. The intricate patterns woven into the fields are more than just a visual spectacle—they are a doorway into the profound mysteries of the universe. Each curve and line seems to pulse with an energy that is both ancient and timeless, stirring within me a deep sense of amazement and…

[goodwilltemptation]

Maldives' Mysteries of the Universe stamps, 1992

[niebieskieoko]

[kuttingkarma]

kinda went back and forth on whether to post this here or my little side blog where I throw my more sketchy? Ish art? But fuck it this can go here! @popatochisssp’s Tank! Fruity boy in a Wild West alternate universe, on his own little home stead sighhhh….as Poppy herself said, we’re about to make crop circles in that damned wheat

[harridansibyl]

Personal associations/interpretations of the dark/mystical houses (4th, 6th, 8th, 12th)

4th house

twisted tree roots, cultural practices, heirlooms, photo albums, inherited features, traditions, the mother, past lives, generational trauma, picture books, garden beds, childhood homes, ancestor altars, hand written recipe books, hearth, squeaky wooden floorboards, genealogy archives, caves, oak trees, baby wrap carriers, emotional security, cultural heritage, building foundations, photo albums, genetics, laundry lines, swing sets, property, mines, crops, sanctuaries, the chest and heart, home steads, fields, farms, root cellars, harvests, pots on stoves, brooms, backyards, agriculture, vines on trellises, handmade blankets, grandparents house, laundry baskets, attachment styles, singing lullabies, history, deep emotions, instincts, the unconscious, summer, waxing moon, vase of flowers, bath time, picking berries, celebrating holidays, chicken coops, older sisters, family gatherings, stone paths, forest walks, ancient structures/buildings, ancestral languages, cupboards, staying in

6th house

vitamins and supplements, morning routines, pharmacies, tasks and lists, doctors offices, health food stores, stomach medicine, hygiene practices, journals and planners, schedules, herbal teas, personal rituals, emergency kits, dog walks, lymphatic drainage, caregiving, donating blood, examinations and checkups, meditation, colour coordination, sticky notes, gastrointestinal problems, folded laundry, labels on everything, retirement homes, hand washing, braided hair, herb gardens, filing cabinets, face masks, kombucha, detailed diagrams, volunteer work, medicine cabinets, cleaning supplies, shelves, acts of service, skin care, organic linen, gauze and stitches, stress-induced illnesses, essential oil/herb baths, house plants, instructions, repetition, holistic medicine, giving advice, yoga studios, "gut feeling," bone broth

8th house

altars, divination, near death experiences, candle wax, feeling crushed by a heavy weight, grave dirt, red/dim lighting, funerals, double income, control, the underworld, cheques, insurance, heirlooms, ghost sightings, power imbalances, crime documentaries, ouroboros, bank accounts, grief and loss, shadow work, the womb, manipulation, scrying mirrors, Russian nesting dolls, keys, mortuaries, tests from the universe, pendulums, crime scene tape, the phoenix, projections, credit scores, animal bones on a forest floor, blood stained sheets, metaphysical shops, spiritual attacks, deep emotions, snakes, dead flowers, late autumn, wedding veils, envelopes, full moon, muddy boots, shadows at the corners of your vision, scarab beetles, inner processing, experiencing crisis, inherited possessions, natural disasters, sexual trauma, psychological studies, ancestral connections, cracked dolls, veil between realms, mental illnesses, deep connections, intimacy, reincarnation, torture devices, keys, whirlpools, the sound of sirens, unconscious fears, intense first impressions, pushing limits, feeling bound, scratches on walls, ten of swords

12th house

abandoned places, liminal spaces, long winters, shadowy figures, reoccurring dreams, repeated patterns, fog-filled forests, self analysation, inner worlds, cave systems, unfinished basements, hallucinations, solitary confinement, empty parking garages, spiral staircases, substance abuse, trapped in purgatory, hidden beneath the surface, maladaptive daydreaming, hospital hallways, confines of society, waning moon, moths, wandering aimlessly, disconnection from the world, psych wards, healing others, tired eyes or dark circles, chronic mental illness, suppression, addictions, hiding places, overnight shifts, unexplainable experiences, past life karma, exhaustion, cobwebs, others projections, catacombs, bird cages, premonitions in dreams, prescription bottles, self destructive patterns, late night walks, misty lakes, the feeling of walking out of the movie theater at night, identity crises, blurred faces, empty public transport, astral projection, comas, diary entries, dissociative episodes, shape shifting, generational trauma, observing people, mirrors, padded rooms, the afterlife, chain link fences, paradoxes, feeling misunderstood, repression or memory loss, hikikomori, the freeze response, disappearance, waiting rooms

[fiber-optic-alligator]

GOING TO TRY AND SLIP THIS IN REAL QUICK

Uh can I request some first contact au soft vore swindle (any) with a human he found maybe when humans first started getting taken?

It took me ten years and I am absolutely exhausted but HERE IS THE SWINDLE FIC!!! I, um, forgot to add vore, but there is an allusion to it, so I hope you'll still enjoy this! I'm so sorry it took me so long to write :(

How To Discover A New Species And Make Money Off Of It (Totally Ethical Strategies Which Break No Laws)

Pairing: Swindle x Human Reader (First Contact Au)

Word Count: 2462

Summary: After traveling to Earth on a mission to locate rumored Energon deposits, Swindle discovers a new species in which he quickly realizes he can make quite a big amount of money off of...and they are called humans. Capturing you and deciding you will be the ambassador of his newest endeavor, you have no choice but to let Swindle rope you into a twisted plan where he hopes to turn humans into the popular Cybertronian pets.

  The planet is a small, diminutive thing: a piece of space rock cast out into far reaches, reeking of organic growth that shows itself in shades of dark green, desolate brown, deep blue, and patches of puffy white swirling above everything else in the form of physical moisture. Its closest neighbors are all wastelands, either long abandoned by their inhabitants, or completely devoid of anything to begin with. Earth, as it is registered in Cybertron’s database, is the only planet in this backwater area of the galaxy to host life. It’s an insignificant sphere, circling an insignificant sun, in an insignificant solar system. No one would be caught here, simply because there is nothing to see.

  Yet, here Swindle is, doing just that. Staring out at the mud puddle planet, he wonders how he ever thought accepting a job here would turn out to be profitable. The talks of Energon deposits being found on Earth had been too much to ignore. Such claims are typically rumors started by mechs with far too much time on their servos: fables of the purest Energon ever discovered hiding deep beneath the soil of places such as this one. If he were younger, Swindle would have fallen for the stories on the spot. Many newbies do. They think they’re making it big, wasting energy blasting off to no-name systems, ready to pour their resources into expeditions that always yield no crop. Fads fade. Stories end. And Swindle is not new to his trade.

  He does his research. He interviews those he deems noteworthy. He takes notes. He’s careful. Ultimately, results prove Earth definitely has something. Energon? Eh, he’s not too sure. But his intel tells him it's something he can make shanix off of. A boon. A land mine of opportunity.

  So he’s taken the chance. But now that he’s here, with his ship gradually getting closer and closer to the planet, he’s beginning to believe his research might have yielded false information. Earth is looking far from profitable, and he can tell no Cybertronian faction has made contact with its surface yet. It surprises him; Autobots and Decepticons, despite their countless differences, are extremely good at the art of colonization, whether accidental or intentional. It seems like practically every planet in the universe has been touched by his species in one shape or form. But no such thing can be found here. His ship’s systems aren’t picking up on a single Cybertronian satellite or base. It might very well be possible that he is the first to ever lay optics upon Earth.

  This was a bad idea, he thinks. High chances will be that his search will bring up nothing. He could turn his ship around now and head off to places where his time will be better spent. He won’t regret it. Probably.

  He continues looking at Earth and vents a frustrated exhale through his intake. Whatever. He’s here anyway. Might as well take a look around.

  The forest his ship lands in has various creatures frantically darting out of harm’s way when it makes contact with the ground and stabilizes its support footing. With a hiss, the bay doors open, and he steps out slowly, his optics quickly adjusting to take in Earth’s light. It's all…very green. There’s a slight wind whistling between the leaves, making them rustle with a strange noise Swindle isn’t used to. He cringes and considers retreating back aboard the ship, then decides against it. His external diagnostics register no visible threats in the immediate area. He’ll be fine. After all, what organic would pick a fight with a giant alien robot such as himself?

  He types some instructions into his data pad. A panel opens on the side of the ship, and out comes a scouting drone, the perfect way for him to get a Seeker’s eye view of the terrain. “Alright,” he murmurs to himself. “Here we go. Let’s see what this planet is hiding.”

  The drone cycles and whirrs, then darts up into the air. Its video feed translates onto the data pad, giving him a clear aerial picture. At this vantage point, he can see that this forest he’s landed in stretches on for a long time. The drone picks up on various sorts of metals: his universal translation tool registers these as iron, copper, even gold. Sounds quite expensive, but they aren’t what he’s looking for. He types in a primary locating directive. Find Energon.

  A few cycles pass, and still, he locates nothing. Just more green and strange lifeforms he couldn’t care less about. Swindle grumbles and wishes he brought some drinks with him to pass the time. There definitely isn’t any Energon here, and that frustrates him beyond measure. But it is a big planet by organic standards…just because Energon isn’t in this immediate location doesn’t mean his search is a total loss. He worries at his lower derma in thought. Perhaps he should check the polar caps next…or maybe the equatorial region?

  Snap.

  His audial processors immediately pick up on the noise. Intrusion. Whipping around, he has his gun out in an instant, the barrel revving up with pulsing energy, eager to incinerate whatever is in its path.

  What stands before him-or below him-is a lifeform. A strange, fleshy being standing on two skinny legs with equally skinny arms. It stares up at him with big, alien eyes, and it’s flappy mouth parts in what he can only assume to be surprise. Swindle blinks, then slowly lowers the gun.

  “Well, well, well,” he says, snapping the weapon away and crouching down with a curious tilt of the helm. “What…are you?” All of the natives he's seen so far are either quadrupedal or avian. This animal is neither; it stands like he does, yet clearly displays the qualities of subpar intelligence. It hasn’t done a single thing so far. It’s just…there. Staring. Perhaps a fright response? Does it think he can’t see it because it’s so still?

  “You certainly aren’t Energon.” He clicks his derma, thinking. “But you are interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen something quite like you before.” He wonders, is it friendly? He does a quick scan and comes to the satisfying conclusion that the creature-you-doesn’t harbor any natural defenses against his kind. He could break you in half like a stick with little-to-no pressure required. He extends a servo, intending to be friendly.

  You finally snap into action and stumble back, letting out a yelp. He can’t help laughing when you fall over onto your aft, minuscule digits digging uselessly into the forest floor. Primus, you are pathetic. No claws, no antlers, no wings…what purpose do you serve for this planet? Your species definitely must be at critical risk of extinction.

  Yet…he feels his spark soften when he observes your trembling body and listens to your soft squeaks. You…you’re adorable. Swindle is a hardened soul, one who doesn’t fall for the idea of cute easily. Yet you’ve managed to make him want to say “Awww” after looking at you for less than five cycles. Is this your way of self-preservation? Can you somehow influence the feelings of others in order to escape danger?

  He wants to know more. He’s intrigued by you. Snapping his digits, he reaches forward. “C’mere, little thing. Let’s get a better look at you.”

  Your face contorts into an expression of pure panic, and you fumble away from his looming servo, a startled shriek leaving you. But unfortunately for you, he’s far too quick, and snatches you into a fist before your tiny brain can keep up with his movements. You immediately begin struggling, letting out these sharp squeaks and desperate chatters. Swindle sighs and gives you a very patient look. “Quit squirming, alright? I swear I’m not going to hurt you as long as you don’t hurt me. Though I’m guessing you probably can’t. You’re barely taller than my index digit. Why are you so small, huh?”

  He turns you over and observes you from every angle, being careful not to rough you up too much. You wear fabrics over your body and a weird sort of bag against your back. Swindle easily slips it off of you and holds it to one optic, scanning its inner contents. Just paper books and a weird ocular device. He snorts and throws it away, disinterested. You don’t seem to like this and begin pushing at his digits with a frantic desperation that has him chuckling.

  “That’s not going to do much for you.” He brings you closer to his face and inhales your scent. A pleasant, woodsy aroma that only seems to permeate from organics fills his olfactory sensors and makes him shiver with delight. “How wonderful. You smell amazing. Almost on par with Energon.”

  Oh. That reminds him. He’s here to find Energon, not ogle at weird little Earth creatures. He sighs and shifts you to his left servo so he can recall his drone. “Not much here to see besides you, pipsqueak,” he mutters as he watches the vessel speed back over to his ship and return to its charging panel. “Let’s go do some further exploring of this planet, alright? I think I’d like to hold onto you for a bit longer.” He smiles down at you. “You’re kind of cute. You don’t mind hanging out with good ol’ Swindle, do ya?”

  You certainly do mind, with the way you continue to wriggle around with your arms flailing. Scared squeaks turn into angry growls, with you narrowing your eyes and puffing up to express your indignation. He watches you, then revs his engine and bares his denta, growling back at you with such a loud rumble, it sends a frenzy of avians flapping from the tops of the trees.

  You snap your mouth shut and shrink back, any rebellious bravado previously displayed disappearing with the avians. Swindle grins satisfactorily. “You try and bite,” he says. “I bite back harder. Now be a good Earthling and enjoy the ride, alright? I’ll let you go once I’m bored of you.”

  He walks slowly, taking his time not to accidentally knock a tree over or step on an accidental organic. You are quiet and oddly still, except for your constant vibrations which almost have him feeling rather guilty for scaring you into submission…almost. Glancing down at you, he watches the way you lower your head to hide your face beneath the cover of your hair. Liquid drips down onto his digit.

  Ah. You’re leaking from your eyes. Crying. He didn’t know Earth animals could do that. He raises the end of his thumb and runs it lightly over your cheeks, wiping them away. “Don’t do that, little one, come on,” he says in the most soothing tone he can muster. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m just your friendly neighborhood salesbot, yeah? Just a guy trying to survive like every other punk in the universe. Why would I hurt you?”

  You sniffle and peer at him with those big, soulful eyes. And oh, now you’ve done it. You’ve struck an arrow straight into his spark. A soft gasp escapes him, and he tilts your head back further. “By Primus, I have never seen something as cute as you. So soft…so small���” He ruffles your hair and earns himself a chirp as you swat his digit away. “Ha, and feisty too. I wonder…just how much would a bot pay to buy you as a pet?”

  The gears begin turning. A new idea shows itself to Swindle as the prospect of a tantalizingly lucrative step into an industry he hasn’t bothered contemplating until now. Cybertronians, for all of their ingrained brutality, love pets. He thinks it's because his kind are so war-torn, so used to the bloody, the disgusting, the traumatic. So many veterans on all factional sides own cuddly therapy companions which aid them in their long road to recovery. Helio hamsters, cyber dogs and cats, even glitch mice and turbofoxes…not to mention various other non-Cybertronian native animals hailing from other planets across the cosmos. Yes, the pet trade for mechs is quite popular, and he knows it won’t lose its momentum any time soon.

  So why can’t he get into it?

  If Swindle was to suddenly return to Cybertron with a new creature…a tiny, delicate lifeform from the distant Earth, advertised as the perfect companion for any bot…he could begin a whole business. Gentle, squishy, and oh-so cute! A lifelong companion who engages with you and offers the ultimate form of loyalty! Buy one for your sparklings, your conjunx, or yourself! Yes, yes, he can see it now! He could make millions if he plays his cards right! Perhaps even billions if it really takes off!

  He brings out his data pad and holds it over you. If you’re going to sell, you’re going to need a proper name to sell with. “Scan lifeform,” he orders. “Identify.”

  The data pad is slow with it. Its light casts over you and makes you wince, giving a long, contemplative hum as its AI races through the Cybertronian web and searches for a clear species identification. When it finally lets out a pleasant beep and reveals all found information, Swindle swears he sees shanix flashing before his optics.

  Species: human. Homeworld: Earth. Status: Critically endangered. Not protected by the Prime Universal Protected Organisms Law. Known clients are estimated to start at…20,000 shanix.

  “20,000!” He whistles and grins delightedly. “Good Primus, you’re worth that much? Who knew I had such an expensive little twerp sitting right in the palm of my hand?” He laughs, ecstatic. Forget the Energon. What he can make off of you and the rest of your kind is twice as much as a regular run would get him. This is what has been hiding on Earth. This is the boon. The opportunity.

  He leers at you, not even seeing you as just a fascinating animal anymore. You’re a product to take advantage of, to sell, to milk for all of your worth. Swindle’s done it before. He likes to say it’s nothing personal, because it isn’t. After all, he’s just surviving, trying to earn a life like anyone else. When he looks into your terrified eyes and sees the way you go pale at the sight of his nearly crazed expression, he thinks about how many bots will be won over by this face, how he’ll be rolling in dough by the time he’s through with Earth.  “Listen to me, little one,” he says. “You and I are going to be very good business partners from now on. I think I’ll keep you as a showcase specimen. Which leads into my next question…where can I find more of you?”

[taylor-titmouse]

I'm Taylor Titmouse, I write and illustrate queer erotica featuring freaks and monsters. I also draw a lot of porn that I can't post here, so those will be posted as crops with links to my various uncensored locations.

You can find my illustrated novellas and artbooks on Itchio. I've published a Lot of them. If you don't know where to start, I recommend the Dragon Double Feature series or Roger Crenshaw, or Spring with the Unicorns--that one's free! I've also written up a guide to all of them here!

Some of my latest releases, try The Long Road if you like gender-based worldbuilding!

You can find the most complete collection of my uncensored art on Patreon and Subscribestar (both are equally served.) I post high resolution art regularly, and everything is neatly organized going back to 2022 (that's longer than I've been posting here!) $5 patrons get access to over 180 exclusive illustrations, and can vote in monthly polls from suggestions made by the $10 tier--who can also commission me at any time with a 10% discount!

Just .05% of the exclusives you unlock by subscribing!

You can also follow me on Twitter or Bluesky, where I post my art uncensored. Below the cut is a list of story tags, which will link you to art and posts about those stories, and provides some context to what they're about. Thanks for checking out my work!

TT Art: my art tag TT Talks Drawing: my tag for talking about the art-making process TT Talks Writing: my tag for talking about the writing process TT Testimonials: my tag for asks reviewing how good my books are :^) TT Asks: my tag for answering asks

Story Tags Barnyard Bound: F/M, human/furry, bondage, breeding kink, Harvest Moon also for some reason. Cherry Brilliant Ryder: M/F, aliens and medical play (The Xenosexuality Conference) Brilliant, Dr. Lindon, Dr. Odonata, Dr. Pinkie, Dr. Menura, Councilman Somato, Zeal-and-Duty Cadogan: Trans masc wizard, fantasy monsters, predicaments and situations. Cadogan, Madog, Myrddin Chique: NB/Various, fantasy monsters, elves, nudism, catch/fuck (The Sunken City, The Wild Woods) Chique, Lien, Lutin, Fuck-elves The Dragon Double Feature: M/F, M/M, M/M/F, dragon/human, oni/human, plus size. Fantasy princess/dragon CNC, Edo era Japan (The Dragon Double Feature, The Dragon Double Feature 2) Eveline, Gundrid, Wakatake/Taki, Kenta, Mrs. Arakawa, Jerund Eternella 7: M/M/M, Gundam-inspired space opera erotica. (Eternella 7 Parts 1-3) Risk, Turn, Engel House Gerhardt: F/F/M, vampires, trans women, femdom, male humiliation, 1800s. Lady Cygnet, Countess Gerhardt, Conrad House of the Risen King: M/F, old god, exhibitionism/nudism, sex cult. (House of the Risen King) Vee, Zihbeh Knight of Thorns: M/F, giant faceless knight/petite princess forced marriage. Rosaline, Knight of Thorns Laurestine: Trans unicorns, monsters, bondage/stuck in situations, catch/fuck (Spring with the Unicorns) Laurestine, Barberry, Mazereon, Edelweiss The Leylic Sea: M/M, historical fantasy, pirates, university wizards (The Captain of the Tybaltine, The Boy from Karkutt) Mr. Todd, Oliver Bullock, Lucas, Mirza The Long Road: Goblins, dwarves, bandits, a princess and a knight. Gangbangs, rope bondage, CNC (The Long Road) Tourmaline, Angre, Vanesse, Samwell, Georgie and Markie (the Twins), Jarett, Bingo, Goblina. Lover Rescue: F/F/Genderfluid, magical girls, monsters, plus size, cam girling. Lover Pink (Momoka), Lover Gold (Hikari), Lover Blue (Aozora), Lord Heteracuto (Hiroto) The Masson Circle: M/M, M/F, 1970s crime romance, multiple ships, femdom, trans male character (The Masson Circle) Ezra, Tessa, Leonard, Lionel/Nell, Jean, Mathieu Max and Mortis: M/F, exhibitionism, naturalism, photography, nudism. Max, Mortis/Daisy Monsterfuck Mountain: Fantasy monsters, WIP erotic CYOA (You're A Mage on Monsterfuck Mountain) The Mage, Trolls The Night Guest: M/F, young man/older woman, oni/human (The Night Guest) Mrs. Arakawa, Tōru Objects of Affection: M/F, F/F, robot girls and people being weird about them. Touma, Shima, Mari-ko, Ratna, Mari Mouse, Samart, Marinette Season's Breedings: Gnomes, Imps, and probably other critters, and their biology/breeding habits. Applecore. The Sleeping Garden: M/Agender, alien, science. Dr. Arbor, The Flower Starbuster: M/M, a WIP novel-length superhero romance. Mitsuo, Tom, Starbuster Roger Crenshaw: Trans M/M, monsters, occultism, early 1900s (The Vampires of New Haven, The Wolves of the West, The Shadow in the Shelves, The Dogs at Duskfall) Roger Crenshaw, Professor Reed, Grigori, Mateo, Johnny, Sweet Nate, Jackie-Ralph, Cam Ellis, George Adler, Combe Hooper. Romick: Evil wizards, obedient doll, magical sex, experimentation kink, dungeon bondage, monster sex (The Tenebrous Tower) Romick, The Doll, Osmund, Vester

[wreckedandpolemic]

bad idea right? - matty healy

(mdni) in which calling matty up is a really, really bad idea. but that’s never stopped you before, and it’s not about to start. part of the regret me universe. 3895 words.

warnings: mean dom matty, degradation, oral (m receiving), mild praise, impact play (riding crop), slight overstimulation, toxic codependent losers who won’t admit their feelings

You and Matty haven’t spoken in nearly five months when you call. You’re never the one to break no-contact, so you can hear his concern when he picks up. “Hello?” he says, low and sleep-thick. “It’s the middle of the fuckin’ night. What’s wrong?”

“I need you,” you rush out, helpless. “Can’t stop thinking about you. S’been too long, Matty.”

Matty groans. “You think you can just fuckin’ call me up when you get needy, like you didn’t fuck my life on purpose and then ditch me? Think you can pretend you haven’t been fucking me about for six fucking years? D’you actually think I’m that fuckin’ pathetic?”

He’s angry, you realise with a jolt. The low, dangerous tone of his voice wraps around your brain, melting stickily between your thighs. “Not if you don’t wanna be,” you say, your teasing pout audible. “I need fucked, Matty. You’re the only one who can fuck me right, and we both know it,” you say, letting a soft moan slip past your lips as you circle your clit.

“Are you seriously getting off right now?” he laughs disbelievingly. “Jesus, y’so fuckin’ needy. Such a whore. You want my cock so bad, darling? Beg for it.”

Without missing a beat, your lust-sick brain spills dazed, filthy words from your lips. “C’mon, Matty, please. I need you. Need you to fuck me like you mean it, like you hate me. I don’t wanna be able to walk when you’re done with me,” you moan, grinding the heel of your palm against your clit as you finger yourself, slick sounds echoing down the phone. “M’so fuckin’ wet, you could just stuff me full right now. Could just use me as your little cumdump, take what you need from me and leave. I’d even say thank you,” you add, and you can practically hear his control snap.

“I’ll be there in half an hour. You’re not gonna like what I do if you cum before I get there.”

You laugh, breaking into a moan as you curl your fingers perfectly. “You know I will.”

True to his word, Matty’s letting himself into your flat less than an hour later. By which time you’ve already cum once and are happily bringing yourself to a second. A sick relief floods your body the second your gaze lands on him, and you pull your fingers out of yourself to wave at him with a smirk. “I hope that was worth it, you little whore,” he snaps, shrugging out of his jacket. “Come here, on your knees, now. Don’t fuckin’ mess me about.”

His tone is heady and dark and dominant, dizzying as it slides over your body. “And what if I don’t?” you smirk. “Are you gonna turn around and leave? You already came all this way,” you tease. You’re only bratting for bratting’s sake, seeing how many of Matty’s buttons you can push before he explodes.

“Don’t be a bitch,” Matty scoffs. “If you don’t behave in the next five fucking seconds, I’m going to make the next three days hell for you.”

“Three days?”

Matty smirks. “You didn’t think I was just gonna fuck you and leave, did you? Nah. You wanted me here so badly, called me after months, dragged me out of bed at fuckin’ two AM ‘cause you need me?” He drags out the words in a mocking affect of your voice. “Well, you got your wish, darling. We need to make up for lost time, right? So, if you wanna even think about cumming on my cock, get on your fucking knees.”

This time, you obey, the hardwood of your floor digging into your knees, the pain somehow at once grounding and preternatural. You slide your palms up his thighs, gently mouthing at his cock through his jeans. Your mouth is practically watering as you reach for his belt buckle, choking on your whine of his name when he stills your hands. “You still have your cuffs?” Matty asks. You nod. “Good.” He retrieves them, fastening your hands behind your back and testing the fit. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah, feels good, Matty, c’mon,” you whine. “M’sorry, I wanna cum f’you, let me suck you off, please,” you whimper.

Matty laughs cruelly. “You think you deserve my cock? Gonna make you work for it, baby,” he warns, and you just moan, denim rough across your tongue as you lick obscenely at the seam of his jeans. “Needy girl, Christ. You want fucked? Kiss my boots and beg to suck my dick.”

You freeze, humiliation tingling deliciously between your thighs. “I—”

Blunt nails dig into your jaw as Matty forces your gaze to his. “You heard me. C’mon, darling, I know you can do it.” Slowly, like every movement is an agony, you bend until you’re practically prostrating yourself in front of Matty. “D’you remember these shoes, baby? Remember riding my boot ‘til you came all over it? How you were whinin’ and beggin’ like a fucking whore?”

Of course you fucking do. You’re violently flashed back to that night, to the grapple for control, before either of you knew what your relationship would spiral into. You lean in, hating yourself more and more every second even as wetness pools between your thighs, and press a kiss to the leather. You swear you can faintly taste your own arousal.

“Good girl,” Matty murmurs as your lips rove over his boot, kissing along his ankle before you kneel up to gaze at him, head swimming with submission. He raises an eyebrow as if to say go on.

“God, Matty, I need you,” you moan. “Need to suck your cock, want you to fuck my face, please. Wanna feel you, wanna taste you, need you to cum in my mouth, baby. Need to be your cumdump. Just use me, please,” you whine, fumbling with the button of his jeans.

Matty laughs cruelly, freeing his cock and groaning softly as it thuds against his belly. “Open,” he says, soft and almost gentle, hooking a thumb into your mouth and prising it open. You wait, eager, eyes slipped shut and tongue lolling out of your mouth, wanton heat licking up your thighs. A harsh smack of skin on skin makes you gasp, and you open your eyes to realise your cheek is wet and sticky with precum and the sudden sting against your skin is from Matty slapping his cock against your fucking face.

Before you can sputter out a response, Matty’s sliding a hand into your hair and fucking your mouth hard. You moan around him, clinging to his hips as he pours dirty praise into the air above you. “That’s it, good girl. You feel so good, baby. Missed this filthy little mouth. So much sweeter when you’re gagging around me, huh?” You’re powerless, the weight of the cuffs around your wrists and Matty’s hand tight in your hair the only thing keeping you tethered to your body. Tears blur your vision, Matty’s moans loud and obscene above you as you swallow a gag.

You’re barely even giving a blowjob, just letting him fuck your face like a toy and grinding your hips down against nothing. Your cunt is pleading for attention, wrists straining against the cuffs as Matty laughs mockingly. “Needy girl. C’mon, darling, make me cum and you’ll get what you want, promise.” You redouble your efforts, leaning in until your nose is buried in the hair at his base and swallowing around him. You’re trying desperately not to inhale deeply, breathe in the smell of his sweat like you could trap him in your lungs. 

Matty’s fucking you brutally, angrily, and you know you’ll be hoarse for hours when he lets you go. His pace stutters, his breath quickening and you know he’s close. You slide your tongue against the vein on his underside, humming and whining around him. “Shit, m’right there, baby. Fuck, m’gonna cum, shit,” he whines, pulling almost all the way off you so his cum lands on your tongue. The salt of it overwhelms your senses, moaning low in your throat as his cock pulses against your tongue. “Open,” he orders again, and you obey thoughtlessly, letting strings of his cum drip against your chest. “Fuck, makin’ such a mess, darling,” Matty groans, bending low so he can look into your eyes. Before you can even process, a wad of spit lands on your tongue and he’s forcing your mouth closed.

You swallow, slow and deliberate, savouring the messy slide of spit and cum down your throat. “Thank you,” you breathe, voice scratchy.

Matty grins wickedly. “Good girl.” He nudges you to your feet and onto the bed, falling on top of you and kissing you greedily. Ever filthy, he licks into your mouth like he could catch the lingering taste of his cum on your tongue. “What do you need, darling?” 

Gasping for breath, you fight for the words. “You,” you groan. “Anything you want, I’ll take it. Just need you, Matty.” He sucks in a sharp breath, eyes wide.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Matty says, shockingly tender. “Has it really been that long since you got fucked right?” You whine as his fingers find your swollen clit, a jolt of electricity shooting up your spine. You nod, swallowing hard as you meet his intense gaze. “How much work have I gotta do? How many pathetic fucks do I need to make you forget?”

“Too many,” you say, arching desperately up into his touch. “Haven’t cum with a guy in over a month. Had to get myself off after they left. Thought about you every— mmm— every fuckin’ time, how you’d be— fuck— be fucking me so much better, wishing I was goin’ dumb on your— shit, yes— on your cock.”

Matty grins wickedly, sliding two fingers into your soaked cunt. “Did you call my name?” He starts a slow, mean pace, your cunt clenching wantonly around him.

“You know I did. I can’t fuckin’ cum without thinking of you. You fuckin’ broke me. C’mon, harder!” Your back arches, chest heaving. Matty’s eyes fall to your tits, one hand coming up to tug harshly on your piercing. 

“You think you can give me orders right now? Be a good girl and shut up, yeah?” Your jaw snaps closed almost comically fast, teeth clacking together so hard the sound rattles through your brain. “You broke me too,” Matty says, so quietly that you don’t think he realises he’s spoken. He slides his fingers out of you, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to suppress a whine. He grins approvingly. “Here’s what’s going to happen, darling,” Matty says, pausing to suck his fingers into his mouth and clean your arousal off his skin. “You’re going to ride my cock until you cum like you’re fucking gagging for, and then you’re gonna let me do whatever I want, okay?”

Hopelessly turned on, you choke out an answer and let Matty flip you so you’re straddling him. Your eyes roll back into your head as you sink down on him, pure desire cascading down your spine. “Matty, I—”

“Didn’t say you could talk, did I?” Matty scoffs, digging his fingers into your hips to still you. “M’not gonna help you, either. Are you gonna be good, darling? Gonna fuck yourself on my cock like a slut?”

Nodding frantically, you grind your clit against his stomach and soaking up the pleasure that seeps from every point his body meets yours. You lift up onto your knees and slam back down, a whining scream tearing from your throat at the burn between your thighs. “Shit, y’feel so good, Matty. Missed this. Missed you,” you groan, digging your nails into his chest and rolling your hips desperately.

Matty grins lazily up at you, arms propped insouciantly behind his head. He looks so relaxed, it’s almost as if you aren’t there at all, except that he can’t hide the red flush creeping up his cheeks and down his chest. You must look even more wanton by comparison, hair plastered to your sweat-slick skin and soaked cunt dripping around him. “Keep going, baby. You can do it, c’mon.” The degradation slides sweetly around your brain, melting your thoughts until all you know is Matty.

You realise suddenly that your nails are scratching a pattern into Matty’s skin, the same shapes over and over again. Mine. Mine. Mine. Your knees are starting to ache, thighs burning as you ride him, but the idea of stopping doesn’t even cross your mind. Liquid heat thrums in your veins, burning you up from the inside out. Whining his name helplessly, you clench around him, driving your hips down so you can feel every inch. You tip your head back, arching your chest towards Matty and watching his gaze fall to your tits. “You look so pretty up there, darling. You wanna tell me how you feel?”

“Feels s’fucking good, Matty. Been dreaming about your cock for months, baby. Nobody fuckin’ gets me off like you. Wish it could be like this all the time,” you add, barely processing the admission as it slips from your lips, pinching and toying with your piercing with your free hand. Your hips roll, waves of pleasure crashing over you, battering you viciously.

“So desperate, love. Such a slut,” Matty groans, digging his nails into your hips and fighting not to thrust up into you. “Getting close, aren’t you?” He laughs. “Yeah, I can feel you gettin’ all tight around me. You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna fuckin’ soak my cock like a good girl?” You give a strangled moan, your hand falling to rub frantic circles over your wet clit. Your vision goes blurry, your entire world a haze as Matty draws sharply into focus, his chest heaving and angry marks across his skin. 

Your orgasm slams into you breathlessly, crushing the air out of your lungs as you writhe on top of him. Arousal floods out of you, soaking the sheets under you. Your thighs burn, pleasure shooting up your spine and hammering in the base of your skull. Cunt pulsing, your body goes heavy, slumping as you climb off him. “Thank you,” you murmur, relaxing a little with your body splayed out beside him. “M’ready. M’yours. Whatever you want.”

Matty’s answering smirk is nothing short of cruel; darkly promising as you shiver happily. He climbs over you, straddles your waist, staring down at you with lust-dark eyes. He fists his cock, dripping precum and still wet with your arousal, and groans. “Missed having you like this, baby, all pathetic for me. Gonna look so pretty covered in my cum, God.”

Slick, wet sounds fill the room, your eyes glassy as you watch him. You stick your tongue out provocatively, sliding your hands up his thighs and digging your thumb into the divot in his hip. Matty’s thighs are trembling, lips wet as he breathes shakily over you. You lift your head a little to kitten-lick over his head, and it does him in. A groan of your name spills from his lips, ropes of cum splashing over your face and landing on your tongue. You swallow greedily, grinning blithely up at him as his chest heaves.

“Greedy girl,” he chastises, climbing off you. “Already had my dick in your mouth and your pussy like you begged for, and y’still wanted more, huh?” You nod, turning to hook a leg over Matty and gaze at his pretty, flushed face. “Did I say you could suck my dick?” He grabs your jaw punishingly, the pain spreading under your skin and falling straight to your swollen clit. “Words, baby.”

“N-no,” you stammer, choked through dizzying lust that clouds your brain.

Matty scoffs, shoving abruptly to his feet. “Little cumslut can’t behave herself. What d’you want, darling? Belt or paddle?” Your blood runs cold. That’s your trick; making him play an active role in his own destruction.

You squirm. “I, uh… Got something new. It’s in the, uh. The black box under my bed,” you murmur, flushing ruby-woo and hiding your face in your hands.

You know when Matty’s found it because he breathes sharply in, thwacks it against his palm to test it, scoffs disbelievingly. “S’this what you want, darling?” He traces the leather of the riding crop over your ass almost lovingly, anticipation humming so loud under your skin that it’s almost deafening.

“Yeah. Please.” You flush impossibly redder, squirming desperately.

“Filthy girl,” Matty coos, running his fingers over your ass and squeezing gently, like he’s soothing pain you haven’t felt yet. “You sure? It’s gonna hurt,” he warns.

“S’gonna hurt so good,” you groan, arching your back and pushing your ass up towards him. “Please, Matty. I don’t let anyone else have me like this, I couldn’t do this with anyone else. Wouldn’t trust them,” you confess, breathing laboured.

Matty leans down, brushes the hair off your neck, kisses the skin there. His lips are warm, the touch so tender you could almost believe it were loving. “God, you’re beautiful. Bein’ so good, baby, such a good girl for me.”

You whine. “Stop bein’ nice,” you snap. “If I wanted nice, I wouldn’t have called you. I know you hate me, so fuck me like it,” you say, gritting your teeth.

His answering laugh is low and cruel, sliding deliciously over your brain. “You want it mean, baby? Alright. You know what to say if you need me to stop, yeah?”

Dear fucking God. You’re this close to kicking your legs and pounding your fists. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, green for go, red for stop, I know how to fucking drive.”

Matty clicks his tongue. “Don’t be a bitch. On your knees, face down, ass up, and count,” he orders, and your cunt throbs in response.

“There he is,” you say smugly, moving deliberately slow just to frustrate him.

“Fucking move,” he snaps, gripping your hair and pressing your face into the mattress. “That’s better.” The sound of him shuffling around behind you feels impossibly loud, anticipation tingling in your cunt until— The pain of the leather meeting your ass is sharp, a stinging ache that bleeds into pleasure as it works under your skin.

“One,” you choke out. Matty delivers three more swift, brutal strikes, the pain shocking and new and fucking delicious. Obediently, you count along, sinking into subspace dazed and dizzy. Matty swats at your thighs, over the tattoo on your lower back, every inch of your ass until all you can feel is blinding, mind-wiping, divine pain. You keep counting until Matty hits your cunt, the bolt of sweet agony so instant that your legs give out, a noise of pure pleasure slipping from your lips.

Matty scoffs, grabbing your bruised flesh to shock you back into the present moment.  “Do you know how to fucking count?” he mocks, and you choke out something that sounds enough like the right number to satisfy him. “Still love getting hit there, huh? Slut,” he mutters, so bluntly callous that you wonder if he really means it.

“Love it,” you slur out, voice muffled against your sheets. “Love when you hurt me. Need it. Need you, all the fuckin’ time. Love—” You bite hard on your tongue to silence yourself. Blood pours into your mouth, a fitting punishment as it slides crimson down your throat.

“Yeah,” Matty says faintly. “Me too.” There’s a beat of silence, neither of you willing to acknowledge the words left unspoken, before Matty drags his fingers through your sore, aching cunt. “Look at the fucking state you’re in. Soaking fucking wet, I could just—” He leans down and spits on your cunt, smearing the mess across your swollen clit with his fingertips.

Your back arches involuntarily, pleasure-pain arcing viciously up your spine. Matty grips your hips harshly, digging five crescent moons of greedy desire into your skin, and slams into you hard. A choked whine of his name falls from your lips, one of his hands sliding up your body to grope your tit. You clench around him, vice-like, powerless under him.

“God, this pretty little pussy looks so pretty full of me, darling. All those other guys you fuck, and you always need me, huh? Always come crawling back. Such a fucking cockslut, baby.” You nod wildly, your brain melting into liquid that must be dripping from your ears and puddling on the mattress. “Shit, y’close already, huh? Go on, cum if you wanna, but I’m not gonna stop, okay?”

It’s like your body takes it as permission; your orgasm hits you like a freight train, crushing you under its weight. Your heart races, pure ecstasy crumpling your lungs and clenching in your chest. Your cunt throbs around Matty’s cock, still fucking you brutally deep.

Slick, obscene sounds fill the room, ringing impossibly loud off your walls, and you bury your face in the mattress to muffle your cries. “God, s’too much, Matty, I can’t take—”

“Are you safewording?” Matty interrupts, and you shake your head. “Then you can take it, darling, because I’m telling you to. Whatever I want, remember?” His hips slam against yours, heartbeat pulsing in your cunt with every deep, punishing thrust. “That’s it, baby, I know you can take it. God, you feel so fuckin’ good, m’so close, shit,” he hisses, pace stuttering as he moans your name, low and broken and almost pleading.

“C’mon, Matty, fuckin’ fill me up, make me yours, please,” you whine, arching your back and clenching around his cock until he’s spilling into you with a low groan. Matty fucks you through, cock pulsing and nails digging into your hips. When he finally pulls off you, he’s spent, hair plastered to his forehead and chest heaving with struggling breaths.

You flop down next to him, laughing deliriously and swiping two fingers through your sensitive cunt. The familiar taste hits your tongue, sweet as it slides down your throat, and you grin around your fingers. “See what happens when we don’t leave well enough alone? My ass feels like it’s on fire,” you laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

“S’not my fault you bought a fuckin’ riding crop,” Matty says, disbelieving. “D’you want me to run us a bath?”

“Mmm, in a minute,” you say, burying your face in his chest and curling close to him. Your heart is still speeding, exhilarated, and all you want is to cling to Matty like an anchor until you drown in him. After a little while, he coaxes you into the bath, holds you until the water goes lukewarm, his hands gentle and tender in a way entirely reserved for these moments.

It’s mostly silent, words gone unsaid hanging in the air between you. You’re right on the cusp of drifting to sleep when Matty speaks. “I don’t, by the way. Hate you.” He pauses, like the words are a struggle to get out, a weight sitting heavy on his chest. “I could never hate you. I hate that I can’t hate you.” He huffs a quiet laugh. “I hate that you can call me in the middle of the night after taking a sledgehammer to my life and I’ll come running. I hate that I need you so much. But I don’t hate you. Not even a little bit.”

You don’t answer.

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Jane, Medical Technician

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sorry I’m late doctor, this ship is huge.” Jane hadn’t realized until she got on board that her quarters were halfway across the ship and a full deck up from her work station in the Med Bay. She was going to have to fabricate some more sensible shoes at this rate. She wished she could have her own synthetic tree put into the med bay, just roll outta the hammock and get straight to work, but those perks belonged to the head doctor on the ship.

“It’s fine, it’s just day one,” said Doctor Huhuma, brushing it off with a wave of her furred hand. “I think I can trust these people to go at least a week without almost dying.”

While Jane Shaw was a doctor in her own right, the head physician on board the Noah was Doctor Huhuma, an Indoprime, something akin to the moneys on E24 in the Terran system, locally called Earth. They were so similar in fact that multiple ongoing studies were being conducted to see if they had any common genetic ancestry. Indoprimes stood just as tall as humans on two legs, with two arms that hung down to their torsos. The only real difference was the fur and semi prehensile tails.

“We’ve only left the station a few hours ago, what could have happened? I think today will be quiet at least,” Jane joked. As if the universe heard her and quietly whispered ‘bet’, the door to Med Bay hissed opened and in walked one of the engineers with a thin length of pipe all the way through their arm. Their green blood was a stark contrast to their gray skin and jumpsuit, and their face was turning ashen.

“Oh for- why?” Doctor Huhuma rushed over to the fresh patient. “Thanks for that, Jinxed Jane. Grab a kit, I’ll get him on the table. You had to say the Q-word, huh?”

God damnit, Jane thought. Hours into a first shift and the nickname has already come up. Jinxed Jane had followed her all throughout her residency on Earth and apparently it’d made its way into her GAIL file too.

You accidentally bump a few nurses during surgery and they never let you forget it, she thought miserly. There was a reason she was trying to get away from people who knew her. Jinxed Jane was one of them.

She grabbed a kit from the shelves and brought it to the table, handing the med scanner to the doctor.

“Thank you…sorry. For the-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jane didn’t want to think about it.

The little gray guy on the table was breathing hard. His life wasn’t in any danger, thankfully, but the pipe was only a half inch thinner than his arm. Jane recognized his species from the crew list, he was one of the Gally. Apparently they’d been to earth a ton of times in the past, abducting cattle and occasionally leaving crop circles as a joke. They’d actually shown up so often that the Gally were the default for ‘Alien’ in pop culture in the Terran System. Throughout the Galaxy and especially the GAIL member planets, the Gally were known to be obnoxious pranksters of the highest order.

“Oouuuch,” said the Gally, wincing at the pain.

“Get him a shot of something good for the pain, this’ll take a second.” The med scanner wasn’t done compiling.

“On it.” Jane grabbed a dose of multi-species painkiller from the kit, took the cap off with her teeth, and jabbed it into his thigh. Almost immediately the Gally relaxed.

“Laser wave scalpel, please,” Doctor Huhuma asked.

“Here.” Jane handed her the tool quickly, a short cylinder tapered on one end. The doctor clicked it on and a red beam several centimeters long sprouted from the tip.

“Cover his eyes for me, this might throw sparks.”

“Got it, Doc.”

Jane grabbed a surgical mask and slipped it on the Gally’s face, then took a stainless steel tray and used it to shield their eyes. Huhuma leaned down and with one hand covering her eyes, she used the laser saw to cut the pipe as close to the skin as possible. The Gally flinched at first so Jane put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him as best she could.

The pipe fell, one end red hot, and Huhuma caught it with her tail before it hit the floor.

“Okay,” the doctor said, “easy part is done, this is where it will probably be awful for you.”

“How?” The Gally asked, speaking for the first time other than slight groans of pain.

“Why don’t you tell us your name so we can get this filed away after we’re done?”

“I’m an engineer below decks, my name is Simms of the Gall-”

Huhuma pulled the pipe out the other side of his arm, causing Simms to break off his introduction for a yelp of pain. The doctor quickly took the tissue regenerator, commonly called a Patch Box, and started closing up the wound.

“Well, Simms of the Gally, my name is Doctor Huhuma, and this is Doctor Shaw. You’re our very first patient on this ship, and let me tell you, I wasn’t expecting anything to happen before we left the system, so while I go start the paperwork, Doctor Shaw is going to finish up for me.”

Huhuma handed over the device before walking calmly into her office. Jane wasn’t sure but she thought she heard a long sigh before the door closed, but that could’ve just been the door’s hydraulics.

“I don’t believe she likes me,” Simms said.

“Oh you’re fine, she’s just…settling into the ship, I suppose. So yeah, like she said, I’m Doctor Jane Shaw, and I suppose I’ll be your doctor now, so it’s nice to meet you, though I’m wondering how you got a pipe through your arm.”

“Oh, that.” Apparently it was possible for people with gray skin to blush. They just got a little darker in the cheeks.

“I kinda deserved it. One of the other humans in engineering, Thomas I think, was doing something weird with the drone he picked up, and we thought it’d be funny to prank him.”

“What was he doing?”

“Well it’s a service drone, it shouldn’t even be active right now right? He’s got one of the ones that crawls into maintenance channels and fixes the wiring, and he’s got it playing one of your human’s game things, and he’s just talking to it like a person, for hours!”

“And what did you do?”

“Well, we thought about cabling his shoes to the catwalk but I, uhh, slipped and fell into some exposed pipping.”

“Hence the arm.”

“Yes, hence my arm.”

“So you could say if you hadn’t been being a jerk, this could’ve been avoided. Can’t wait to tell your primary care giver that her crew are idiots and jerks. Leave the guy alone, if he’s not hurting anything then it doesn’t matter.”

“What, do you know the guy? He your friend or something?”

Jane didn’t particularly like the tone of the conversation anymore, but wanted to be professional.

“Never met the guy, but if you keep coming in here for pointless procedures like this, the chances of you getting the wrong doses are gonna get pretty high.”

Professional. Right.

“Look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend the humans, we’ll leave him alone, okay?” Simms seemed way more afraid than Jane figured he should be, but rolled with it.

“Good. Now, how would you rate your care today?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aside from the rough start, the day in the Med Bay went by relatively easily. Jane met the nurses and other support staff she’d be working with, and they all seemed very nice. A couple of the senior officers came down to introduce themselves to Doctor Huhuma and herself, and the 3 other Indoprime came down to have lunch together in the office, primarily fruits and such. Jane went to the mess hall and enjoyed small talk with a delightful short haired alien that she almost immediately forgot the name of.

It wasn’t until she was coming back to the Med Bay that things took a turn. Rounding the corner, Jane saw the door to Med Bay open and a very suspicious looking Simms the Gally come out, looking both ways down the hall before practically jogging down to the corner and out of sight.

Jane sped up and ducked her head into the clinic. There was a giant string of crop circles on the wall drawn in what looked like an oil paint.

Now, she wasn’t sure when she started sprinting, but before she knew it, Jane was already within 20 yards of Simms the Gally.

“YOU LITTLE FUCKER!”

Simms spun around, eyes wide.

“Oh shit what the fu-”

That was as far as he got before she tackled him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doctor Huhuma watched the door while Doctor Jane Shaw watched the gray alien known as Simms the Gally sponge wash the crop circles off the Med Bay wall.

“So when in this big plan of yours did you think it was a good idea to piss off your doctors?” Jane asked, arms crossed.

“When I thought you’d still be in the mess hall for another 30 seconds.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Huhuma laughed, the sound coming from deep in her chest. Jane smiled at her. It was a good, hearty kind of laugh. It suited her.

“So are you guys gonna tell the captain about this?”

Jane thought for a second, then turned to Huhuma and shrugged.

“Your call boss.”

“I think if you just clean this place up…once a week, till we tell you otherwise, we could keep this to ourselves.”

Simms the Gally groaned, but kept scrubbing.

Jane the human laughed.

Huhuma the Indoprime smiled at her.

Liking the new job so far, Jane thought. This’ll be fun.

[chimivx]

gimme gimme gimme -> mingi x fem!reader -> nice for what

Friends have graduated, board positions have changed, relationships are brand new and ever changing, but you and Mingi… You don’t change. Which to some should be a comfort, peace of mind knowing your partner is right by your side, always there for you especially in your times of need… You can’t figure out why you don’t feel the same.

wc: 8.4k warnings: 18+, sexual content and alcohol consumption in every part, infidelity themes... if i missed anything please let me know! posted: 12/8/24 3;50 pm est.

masterlist ~ next part ->

june.

Disgusted.

Betrayed.

No, disrespected.

No. God, what was it?

Arms folding over your denim strapless crop top, you abruptly faced the round table covered in an embroidered dark blue cloth. K.Y. was stitched along the edges lined with a lighter blue silk. Other tablecloths had Dr. Kang in their silk, or Nasara University Graduate. Outside, beneath a massive white tent fit for a royal wedding, the warm summer air blew through the crowd of people on the dance floor in the center of it all, and over the heads stuck in white wooden chairs at their tables, like you, too… something… to dance.

Too annoyed.

No, that was a weak argument.

Too… frustrated to get up and frolic around your friends smiling and laughing, the group having the best time celebrating their graduate, Yeosang.

Everyone was in attendance. Aurora and Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Soul, your boyfriend Mingi, Yuna, Ryujin, and all other faces from ATZ and ITZ alike. Ones Yeosang approved of. Hongjoong was here, hiding behind Jongho somewhere no doubt, if the upcoming Nasara Junior wasn’t clinging onto Yuna. San spun around the floor in circles making his rounds beneath the tent ensuring at least three people were contenders to take home, and somewhere along the back of the crowds, sticking close to some of the newer ATZ boys, was Yunho.

The boy tried to hide, tried to stay low on the radar, but Aurora sniffed him out. She had tabs on him at all times, every minute, every hour, she knew where he was. That boundary she set in place with him back in October, it still stood true, and he hadn’t broken it. He would speak to her only when she spoke to him, but even then each moment was few and far between. It didn’t stop his lovesick eyes from latching to her while Wooyoung twirled her in his arms, attempting to leech any of the feeling dripping off of the couple that still wasn’t officially a couple.

Disgusted.

Now it felt appropriate to use. 

Their bond, one clearly meant to be whether they were a couple or not, had started to fill you with frustration at some point, a type of anger you couldn’t place as anger until winter break rolled around. Vacationing with Mingi and his family for two weeks you kept up with Aurora and her life, staying as close to her as you possibly could while on the other side of the country on an island off the coast of Paix. As her best friend, and her yours, she sent you daily updates of her life and her lovelife. She and Wooyoung weren’t dating, but they were hooking up, they were going on dates, they did all things couples do. Clearly in the honeymoon phase, the way she’d smile through the phone while she spoke about him sparked your many questions as to why they won’t just pull the trigger and make it official.

She had the same response each time. A smack of her lips against her teeth, a measly shrug, and a mumble of, “I dunno.”

To make matters worse, it seemed Wooyoung had the same reaction as well. Half a shrug and a funny face, it’d been Mingi confirmed, the boy you slept next to for two weeks straight in a bed fit for four, sometimes with him all the way on the other end snoring away at some point in the night while you laid awake and listened to Aurora’s whispers of her newfound, exceptional, most amazing, beautifully soul tied, passionate, hot and heavy romance she and Wooyoung had discovered.

She never described it that way, that’s just how it sounded to you in your head.

Most nights during that vacation you’d hung up the phone and glanced to your right at the stretch of a boy snoozing away half naked beneath the sheets. Blonde tipped hair with melty chocolate roots, he was always gorgeous, but it sparked a different feeling within you those two weeks and the months to follow. 

All the way to today.

Tonight.

Dressed similarly to you, by your request, a denim style button down and black pants strapped to his rail thin waist with a belt, Mingi sat backward in a chair beside you. His ring adorned hands rested on his thighs, tapping to the beat of the song that flooded the air beneath the tent. His head bobbed along too, the blonde brushing his forehead where he had it parted to the side, pushed back onto his head. Gazing out at the dance floor, at his friends chanting along to the song that’d play within the walls of the fraternity, he unconsciously released a sigh, one you couldn’t hear, but feel.

“Just go dance if you want to,” you spat without giving him a look. Leaning forward you rested your elbows on the soft cotton of the tablecloth and reached for your glass of champagne. You weren’t sure how many you’ve had so far.

Mingi turned his chin toward you, an eyebrow raised in pure question, his eyes reading the same. “Hm?” he hummed, leaning toward you. Watching you knock back the rest of your flute, he held out a hand to take it, but you slammed it to the table instead. “Do you wa-”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, tipping your chin backward, eyes squeezing shut. “I said go dance if you want to!”

The bass of the music tickled your skin as the sound in the speakers shifted into that of a rapper that the crowd approved of. It was slower, the rhythm sultry and smooth, a familiar sound your body had been conditioned to know. You didn’t even want to look at him, you knew what face he’d be wearing. He’s had you on your back many times to this song.

“Tori,” Mingi said with no strong voice inflictions detected. Looking at him, a grimace on your face, the softest smile on his, you felt your heart twinge. “I was only asking if you wanted another drink.”

“Oh,” you breathed. Flickering your eyes around, at him, at the table, at your empty glass, you said, “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

He took your glass and hurried off with nothing more than the small smile he wore.

Behind his large frame that blocked half of the dance floor from your sight, removing his presence meant unveiling another frustration. Or, rather just one, the same one, Aurora and her lovelife, but it’d been doubled and shoved back into your face.

Dancing, eyes half closed, heavy as she twirled and spun and let the music move her about, she no longer stood within Wooyoung’s arms, but instead anothers. Wooyoung remained by her side, singing, dancing, but he didn’t hold her. He watched her. Shaggy blonde hair, baggy black clothes, pale creamy skin, big black eyes. He wore a smile, Soul did, while his arms hung around her waist, his hands toying with the swishy black fabric of the sundress every so often when her moves would allow it. 

Over the course of that vacation you took with Mingi, when Aurora would spend time with Wooyoung, there was one day for every two spent with him that Soul would tag along. That Soul would be involved. That Soul was coming with. That Soul would nudge against her cheek with his own, pushing her out of the Facetime frame, shirtless with messy hair and a dopey smile. Within seconds of him taking over a call you’d be forced to stare at Wooyoung’s ceiling as the phone dropped to his bed and the three of them bickered over nothing, laughed, then bickered some more until Aurora would pick the phone up and bid you goodnight.

It wasn’t something they shared with everyone else, but you knew. It took her some time to tell you, to admit it, but she said the words at ATZ’s New Years Eve party. Drunk, lounging on the leather couches while the boys played through the annual pong championship they created themselves, she whispered the words when Soul swung by to refill her cup for her.

“Have you ever had a threesome before?”

With a shake of your head she set off and spewed every little detail of her winter break adventures, most of which you already knew of. They weren’t dating, her and Wooyoung, but there was an unspoken thing between them that meant they belonged to one another. Kind of like how you and Mingi started out. Aurora and Wooyoung weren’t together, for whatever reason the two of them only know, but you supposed it left some wiggle room, some grey area open for them to be able to pull Soul into the bedroom with them.

So much time between the three of them was spent at Wooyoungs in Delo. Weekends, sneaky nights after group dinners, after ATZ parties for the remainder of the year. The three of them were hooked. They were experts at keeping it on the downlow most times in public, but they were insufferable.

Disgusted.

At first you couldn’t pinpoint why. That anger, that frustration that soon settled into rage as the months flew by to graduation where you all came together to support Yeosang and Ryujin as they crossed the stage in Iloa at the Lions Stadium in the gorgeous May sunshine. Isla and Vernon came to the ceremony and dinner afterwards, reconnecting with faces they hadn’t seen in a while. Neither of them were able to come to the party to everyone's dismay, the team was traveling south this week for games, the Lions princess getting some much needed tropical time, or so she’s mentioned a trillion times with a thousand devil emoji’s. 

After a media blow up of Isla, her name and her life, she’d been finally able to wriggle free of some imaginary restraints put over her, and she was living her life for her. The way she’d always intended. Sober for two and a half months now, she kept the group chat updated with each passing week, she’d begun paving her own path in the sports world, trying to build and create her own empire of women like herself that have struggled with addiction, self-discipline, empowering them to take control of their lives and their futures. 

Her follower count has breached a million, growing every single day. Without the help of her brother. Without the help of Vernon, her boyfriend, the two finally together after years of pretending there wasn’t anything between them. Isla was happy, finally, and she deserved it. 

But, you missed her. 

Now with Aurora mixed up between two boys who were the greatest sex of her life-

“Even Yunho?”

“Y-yes, even him. Shut up.”

Aurora had two boys. Yuna had Jongho, the two in a talking-hook up phase that’d slowly been turning into a let’s dress up and go out to dinner phase as of late. Ryujin, freshly graduated, met a girl at her internship at the end of the semester, in May. It hasn’t even been a month and the two were already looking at apartments in Iloa together. 

Everyone had brand new exciting things happening for them, happening to them, and it filled you with a cold dread that, now that it was June, had turned into resentment for every single one of them. Even the sweet boy who brought you a sparkling champagne glass filled to the brim with bubbles. With a smile he popped it into your outstretched hand and manicured fingers. His eyes, deep brown, filled with a pureness he’s had since day one, since the moment you two exchanged names on the front lawn of ATZ, heads tipping back in identical shrieks gathering attention all because you shared a last name. 

He was your one and only, the love of your life. He matched you, mirrored you in every single way, shape and form. He’s seen every side of you, Mingi has, and he’s never judged you for any of them. Hungover and grumpy, he’s been there to take care of you. Silly, a bout of the zoomies, he’s there to laugh with you and catch you when you crash. Overwhelmed, feeling as though you can’t work anything out, figure anything out, especially since taking the Vice President position your best friend offered you, Mingi’s been there to talk things out with, to create plans, and sort through work. 

He’s that cheesy shit authors publish… Your sun, your moon and all your stars. You didn’t believe it until you met him, until he caught you every single time you fell and aided you back to your feet. His friends will joke that he’s down bad, and a simp, but he didn’t give two shits. He loved you, and you loved him.

You loved him undeniably so that it gutted you to even admit to yourself that you wanted more.

You craved more.

You yearned for something fresh, something new, something to give you that rush, the feeling of the chase. Going on year three with Mingi, you knew everything. You’ve learned everything. The two of you have pretty much tried everything too. 

For three years you’ve been able to tell him every thought that flowed through your head, from how pretty the moon looked to how fucked up it was that your parents missed parents weekend again for the second year in a row because of your younger sister. How the hell were you supposed to articulate to him, the biggest softie in ATZ, that nothing about your relationship excited you anymore? 

“What’s the matter, Tor?” he asked you, sitting on the edge of his seat facing you. Watching your glossy lips sip the bubbles and look out toward the dance floor, he sighed, but this time you could hear it. “You’ve been on edge since yesterday, and it’s two weeks too early, so… Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“No,” you said, swishing your glass before downing another gulp. Lifting the glass toward him you flashed him a sarcastic smile. “But thanks for the reminder I’ll get my period on vacation.” 

“Is it that?” He shoved his hands between his thighs, his eyebrows furrowed above his sappy eyes. This is what Mingi liked to do. Analyze you. Pick you apart. Solve the problem. In the past, without this nagging living beneath your skin, you’d appreciated it and looked forward to it, knowing he was there to lean on, to give all your problems to. Now, it made you want to smash your champagne flute onto the ground. “All of us going to Haos? We’ve been packed, we’re good. I have our plane tickets, we know what’s going down, we’re going to be okay.”

Haos. Your fabulous beach vacation you were taking for a month with a select few beneath this tent. A select few you have ample problems with. One sided problems. At the beginning of May it was decided you’d vacation in Haos with your friends, stay there for thirty days, all of you in one house just big enough for six of you. The beach town lured Nasara students in, so the rest of your friend group would be headed down there to stay close by but thankfully not in the same house. You were set up to be surrounded by more of the same.

The same fun people, the same drunken memories made, hanging onto the same safe, secure Mingi like you have been for years. 

“Of course we’re gonna be okay,” you mumbled, sipping your drink.

He smiled, all teeth. “We will be, I promise you.” 

Assuming he solved it, he cracked the code, Mingi redirected his attention to the dance floor and his friends, Aurora now back in Wooyoung's arms, hanging onto his front and his black t-shirt. The three of them matched, Ror, Wooyoung, and Soul.

Gross.

You took a peek at Mingi and his threads.

Damn it.

Hands latched onto your back, acrylic fingernails grabbing onto your shoulders, pink glossy lips coming close to your ear. “Um, Jongho bought me something.”

Glancing over your shoulder at Yuna’s wide, bright eyes, you tried to smile. “What’d he get you?”

She shrugged, flipping her chocolate hair over her shoulder as she took the seat beside you. “No idea,” she laughed, scooting her chair closer to you. “He said he’ll give it to me when we’re in Haos.” Her eyes scanned over the table and the empty glasses over it. “Lost my drink,” she muttered.

“Here comes Jongho,” you breathed, eyeing the massive boy as he left the dance floor, his black hair fluffed and pushed over his forehead and sharp eyes. “I’m sure he’ll get you another one.” Mingi held out a hand for his brother to slap, then looked over at you, the two of you sharing a few seconds before you twisted to face Yuna who melted into her boy's arms when he wrapped them around her shoulders.

“You guys are leaving tonight, right?” Yuna asked, a big ass smile on her face. Jongho looked between you and Mingi before he pressed a few kisses to her cheesy cheeks.

Swallowing your cringe, wanting to reach out and rip them apart, you nodded and pushed your hair behind your back to show off more skin and the M around your neck on a gold chain. Your boyfriend sipped his drink and smiled at his friends. He didn’t look at you like you wanted him to.

“We’ll be on a plane in a few hours,” he said. 

Yuna glanced to the dance floor, then to you. “Those three are going with you, right?” With a roll of your eyes, knowing which three she was talking about, you nodded again. “What goes on? Aren’t Wooyoung and Ror together? What’s the deal with Soul?”

One measly glance toward the trio grinding on one another like they weren’t surrounded by all of Yeosang’s friends and family, you turned to Yuna and said, “They fuck.”

Mingi sprung forward in his seat, his hands slapping to the table as his eyes shot open. “What!?” Both Yuna and Jongho’s jaws flew open, the pair clutching one another like you shot their mother. 

Sipping your champagne, you averted your gaze and laughed to yourself. “Oops.” You wouldn’t have said it if you weren’t tipsy or annoyed beyond belief. They were making it too obvious anyway, anyone with eyes who looked at them right now would be able to tell they knew each other too well. Looking their way, your stomach churned. They were headed toward their table, your table. “Well, shit.”

Wooyoung, with Aurora behind him, the two hand in hand with Soul on their heels, snuck around chairs and people alike, still rocking along to the music. Circling around the table, Aurora singing along to the song with the blonde boy behind her, Wooyoung eyed each and every one of you, his once happy eyes now struck with curiosity. Aurora flopped down into a chair across from you, not sparing you a glance as she leaned toward Soul who sat beside her sideways to face her, his elbow finding its way onto the table. Like they had a secret to share, endless whispers to exchange, the two spoke a mile a minute, Aurora’s hands flying like they did when she was drinking.

“Everybody okay?” Wooyoung spoke slowly at first, still standing beside his not-girlfriend who reached out to toy with Souls necklace hanging over his shirt. Yuna watched her sister, Jongho stared at Soul, Mingi didn’t know where to look. Wooyoung took them all in, then focused on you, hoping you’d give him an answer as to why everyone seemed like they were trying to work out who would go where in their heads. 

Jongho stood up straight, let go of his girlfriend, and stepped over to Wooyoung’s side holding out a hand for him to take. Hesitating at first, brows plummeting under his waves, he placed his hand in Jongho's and let him shake it. 

“Jongho!” Yuna exclaimed, bouncing in her seat, acquiring Aurora and Souls attention. 

Jongho took his hand back and shrugged toward her. “Can’t help it,” he said, then floated by her side to kiss her cheek. “Going to get you another drink.”

“What happened?” Aurora asked.

Wooyoung glanced at her and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, sitting down in his chair. “What happened?” Yuna, looking between the three of them, lips parted while her mind worked, she couldn’t give them an answer. 

“They’re mad we’re leaving tonight and they have to wait a few days,” you said, getting a look from Mingi. You didn’t like how it felt, so you gave one back to him. He nearly snapped his neck focusing back on the table in front of him.

“Ohhh-kay,” Aurora sang, observing how Mingi moved, asking you a question with her eyes when they met yours. Ignoring her, you focused on the rest of your champagne.

Soul pushed his chair back abruptly, jumping to his feet. “Who needs a drink?”

“Not you,” Wooyoung said, voice stern as he looked up at the boy.

Yuna, now leaning onto the table, still studying the trio, was quick to ask, “Why not?”

Both Wooyoung and Soul shot her a look, the timing impeccable it almost made you laugh.

“Because,” Wooyoung said matter-of-factly, “He’s had his tongue down San’s throat twice, if he has anymore to drink he’s gonna end up going home with him.” Turning to speak to Aurora, Yuna’s question pulled him back quicker than the previous one.

“Jealous?”

���What?” His eyes narrowed. Yuna started to laugh, Wooyoung did not know what to do. “What did you just say to me?”

Aurora threw an arm over one of his, pushing him backward in his chair. “Leave it,” she muttered as if she were talking to a dog. Squinting across the table, watching the way he calmed down in an instant, the way he looked at her, listened to her, seemed to adore her, you couldn’t help the way your lip curled. “God damn, I wanna be on a beach!” 

Soul, who had flopped back down beside her, let out a laugh, his being leaning toward hers. “A beach!” he mimicked, laughing with her. Wooyoung’s expression went unchanged, even as he watched the two fall into one another, their giggles sounding over the music playing throughout the tent.

“What the fuck,” Yuna said under her breath with a slight widening of her eyes, looking at you.

Pressing your lips together, you popped your brows and sighed. “Tell me about it.” 

“Do you wanna tell me now?”

Mingi unlocked his front door, pushing the finished white wood open for you to step inside first. Heels clicking on the tile of the foyer, you make yourself at home, dropping your little purse on one of the end tables by the couches a few steps into the house, into the living room. Leaning over one of the leather backed sofas you pulled off your heels and dropped them into his outstretched hands, Mingi having locked the door behind him, following behind you with an attentiveness that irked your very soul.

“I said I’m fine,” you breathed, keeping your voice low. Just down one of the halls that wrapped around the back of the house, behind the kitchen, behind the living room, was his parents bedroom. 

Up the stairs that you both teetered towards was his space, two bedrooms and a living room that mirrored the one on the first floor, but it’d been flipped by Mingi and his older brother when they were growing up. Full of things for school, exercise equipment, gaming systems, couches and bean bag chairs, Mingi and his brother made it theirs, their parents allowing them to have a space to call their own.

“And I’m saying, I don’t believe you,” Mingi whispered, placing a hand on your back to guide you up the stairs you wavered back and forth on. You tried to look over your shoulder but he placed his hand there instead, turning you back around. “Go, into my room,” he said, voice growing stern.

“Don’t get like that,” you grumbled, reaching the top of the stairs and the open floor waiting for you. To your left was the door to this brother's bedroom that had been vacant for a few years now that he was moved out and half married. “I’m tired, I’m drunk, I’m-”

“You’re not drunk, Tor,” Mingi said, wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you along the floor to his door at the other end of the second floor. A breath tumbled from your lips as your feet stumbled over each other. “You’re just tipsy enough to say too much.” He pushed open his door, not caring how it swung into the wall behind it.

“To say too much?” Your brows screwed together. Starting for his bed you tugged at the zipper on your pants, the silky black hugging your hips perfectly.

Mingi dropped your shoes on the floor by his door that he shut with a slam and smirked. “Yeah, too much. You think if Rora and Wooyoung wanted everyone to know they were hooking up with Soul that they’d say it themselves?” Shimmying out of your pants, tossing them aside, you pout your lips. “That’s their business,” he said, tossing his shirt over his hamper next to a tall chestnut dresser. “And that’s your best friend.”

Reaching up your back to attempt to take off your strapless top, you couldn’t reach the zipper. Mingi, after undoing his belt and zipper, his jeans hanging off his hips, he loosed a sigh and turned you around by your shoulders. Dragging his fingers over your skin gently, chills ran down your spine. With the zipper in one hand and your shoulder in the other, he tugged it down and let your top fall to the floor, wasting no time, smoothing his hand down your bare back.

“You looked so good tonight,” he whispered, his hands traveling back up, a smile dancing on his lips as he watched the little bumps over your skin rise at his touch. Taking your hair in his hands, his long fingers dancing through the strands, making sure none was left on your cheeks, he laid it over one shoulder and pressed his chest against your skin, the heat making you shiver. “My pretty girl,” his warm breath fanned over your neck, his lips inches from the skin, brushing over your ear first before they pressed to the valley beneath your jaw.

“We have to get on a plane,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as his hands smoothed down your front, over your chest, greedy as ever. He didn’t listen, lost in his own actions, lips pulling at your skin, sucking further and further down your neck, your collar bone, his hands groping, fingers pinching to make you yelp. “Mingi.” His name came out of you in a whisper, something soft, like a plea for more instead of a demand to stop.

His tongue slipped from his lips, a heavy fat stripe pressing into your skin from your collar bone to behind your ear where his teeth latched onto your lobe, nipping at it, his lips wrapping around the three different sized diamonds he had bought for you.

“We have twenty minutes,” he mumbled. Wrapping his hands around your arms he lifted a knee and tapped it against the back of one of yours, knocking your balance out from under you. Laughing to himself while you gasped and fell forward onto his mattress, he pressed a hand between your shoulder blades to keep you down while he lifted your knees one by one onto his bed. Bending over you, his lips came close to your ear and he whispered, “Do you want it?”

“Yes,” came out of you all too fast. If he didn’t put you into such a compromised position, if he wasn’t pinning you down to his bed, if he hadn’t hooked a finger under the lace of the thong you wore and pulled it to the side after snapping it against your skin once, you might’ve told him no simply because you were still ticked off from the party.

But then his jeans hit the floor, the sound of his belt smacking the wood echoing off his dark walls, and a warmth erupted within you. The sound, his hands, his voice, you were down in seconds, ready for him in seconds. Back arching as he dropped to his knees and slid his tongue between your legs, the muscle tweaking your clit, teasing you, a laugh falling from him as he felt you writhe beneath him. Clamping your mouth shut, jaw clenched, every sound, every moan, every whine, you withheld them from him, keeping them within your chest.

Smoothing a hand over the curve of your ass as he stood, letting his fingers trail up your back to your neck, he threaded his fingers through your hair and turned your head, forcing you to look back at him. “You’re such a liar, Tori,” he said, pushing his hips into yours, his length slipping along your center, another shiver running through you. “Something is up,” he whispered, taking a hand between your bodies, lifting one knee onto his bed beside one of yours, “And if you think I can’t tell…” his voice trailed off as he slipped inside of you, your hips pushing backward like clockwork, muscle memory, your body knowing what it wanted. “Fuck,” he grumbled, taking his time to fill you entirely.

Arching further into the bed, chest to his mattress, ass pressing into his hips, against his hips, you blinked fluttering lashes up at him and smiled. He was big, yes. The way his muscles rippled as he pulled out to push back into you was hot, yes. Mingi had the ability to lock you in, render you submissive with a single look, yes. He could make you feel so good, so fast, unlike anyone ever has. He knew your tricks, he knew your triggers, he knew your body like it was his own. Countless nights were spent here in his bed, or back at ATZ in his room, learning you. He could make you cum on his fingers in minutes, and on his dick even quicker.

His body curled around you, caging you in, trapping you beneath him. Normally you’d both hate to be in one spot too long, you both craved more, you always did, but in a moment like this, one spot and his filthy mouth was enough.

For a moment, amongst the lust, the heat coming off of both of you, the fuzziness beginning to cloud your brain as he held you down and used you like a toy, you start to think that maybe you’re okay. Maybe this thing with Mingi will subside and leave you alone. If this month in Haos would be spent like this, the two of you on each other like sex crazed animals, maybe things would get better.

You and Mingi were the It couple when it came to your group of friends. It had always been you and Mingi, everyone adored the two of you, everyone knew you came as a pair, everyone could see the way you were with one another, comfortable, full of love, unafraid of how people would adore the sexiness that clouded your aura’s whenever you were together. Sometimes it felt like the bedroom door was always open, but you didn’t care, and neither did Mingi.

That’s how this month in Haos was supposed to go. You wanted the teasing, you wanted the noise complaints, you wanted to get caught locking lips and riding thighs late at night in a hot tub or the pool, plenty of spring breaks had been full of moments like those, but now, the attention would be elsewhere.

And you had yourself to blame.

Because you were tipsy enough to talk too much.

Mingi slipped a hand between your legs, his fingers swirling that sweet spot in circles, a whine involuntarily escaping you. He slid in and out of you so deliciously your toes were curling, but that feeling wasn’t building within you. That feeling he could so easily conjure, it couldn’t find you, and it spooked you. 

This hasn’t ever happened before.

You could speak up, you could say something. You could melt into him, ask him to flip over, tell him to do something else, but you couldn’t, you almost didn’t want to, and that killed you.

One thought of the vacation and your vibe was ruined.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, teeth biting into your shoulder. After a sigh he growled, “How the fuck are you not close, Torilynn.”

He almost had you, something sparked within you for a few seconds, but you couldn’t hold onto it for very long, so you decided to do something you’ve never once had to do with Mingi ever.

“I am, baby, I am,” you whispered, pushing a moan out of you that you knew would have him on the edge, “Don’ stop, Mingi, ‘hmygod.” Each thrust of his hips got sloppier and sloppier, his tongue pushed out of his mouth, lips latching to your neck as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you. He was seconds away from pumping you full of his cum and you couldn’t be any further away.

So, you tightened every muscle, you squeezed him tight, threw your head backward, and you mimicked how you’d sound when you’d actually orgasm. You’ve never prayed a day in your life, but within these few seconds, amidst his husky grunts and groans, his whispers of how good you fucking felt, you prayed he was too pussydrunk to realize that you faked it. Pushing you further into the mattress, his body weight resting on top of you, he filled you like he does, the shortest strokes aiding in emptying him entirely, and then, after a minute of shared heavy breaths and long kisses, he pulled out and laid beside you.

“God, c’mere,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his side with ease like he would when your body was normally spent. “Kiss me, please.” And you did, letting him lead the way, every kiss soft and gentle. “I love you, Tori,” he whispered against your lips, “So much.”

Taking a hand to his cheek, toying with the ends of his blonde hair, you smiled into the kiss, willing away the guilt that greeted you in your gut. “Love you, too,” you whispered, curling a leg over his waist. “So much.”

Wooyoung had Aurora in his arms. Standing in line at security, you and Mingi a few steps ahead of them with Seonghwa in front of you, the couple that wasn’t a couple tried to occupy the same space as one another. Sharing whispers when her face wasn’t buried in his chest, Wooyoung would have his lips pressed to her forehead more than they spoke words. They were both in hoodies, his hoodies, and sweatpants. Her makeup was gone, they’d definitely showered, and Soul stood behind them with his nose in his phone. 

You’ve heard stories of how you and Mingi were with one another when the two of you started hooking up, when your relationship started. Only hearing the words, so caught up in the whirlwind of your own romance to realize how you were acting, you wondered if it looked anything like this. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, whether they were hooked around arms, waists, necks, or beneath the hem of a sweatshirt doing god knows what, the hands were almost worse than the kisses. On her forehead, on her cheek, pressed to his jaw, to his neck, to his lips if he looked down far enough for her to catch them. 

You should be happy for her. Her heart had been broken several times at the start of your junior year, and here she was, with everything she wanted, everything she deserved, and then some. It wasn’t a secret, even if their label confused everyone but themselves, he wasn’t afraid to love her outside of his bedroom walls. That’s what she deserved. Someone she could trust, someone who would put up with every rigid part of her, understand her flightiness and keep her on her feet. 

That might’ve been where Soul came in.

The bits and pieces you’ve heard from her, how it all worked, made it seem like Soul was something for them to play with, and vice versa. The boy going into his sophomore year fit right into your group of friends, you’ve all spent plenty of time getting to know him, he wasn’t one for relationships, for commitments. He wanted the fun, and who could blame him, he was twenty and about to start his second year of college, in no way was he planning on locking someone down, especially when he was trying to land a board position at ATZ his junior year.

He was in it for the fun, to get off without having to hunt and work for it, Aurora and Wooyoung handed it to him.

Moving forward in line, the six of you almost to the front, you met eyes with Seonghwa who glanced behind him checking in to make sure everyone was still there. He gave you a smile, his eyes crinkling under the strands of black hair that caressed his cheekbones. You wanted to know what went on in his head, all these months of watching Aurora and Wooyoung’s relationship blossom into what it is now, you longed to know how he felt about it.

Sure, the two of them put their shit to rest, Aurora and Seonghwa, having done so in front of nearly all of you. They were friends, strictly, that had been established in front of all of you.

Pulling your lips into a frown you wanted to physically shake the feeling off of you. Aurora had the eyes on her, since the start of your junior year. It wasn’t until all the shit blew over that you realized how it made you feel. Even after the fact, weeks, months later. You were there for her, you helped her through the transition of taking the president position, you even accepted when she asked you to be her vice president, and then, it was as if nothing had happened at all. Like no one remembered what any of you had gone through.

Yeji, expelled. Mina, pulled out of school by her own parents. Isla, kicked out of the sorority, gifted a lifelong struggle courtesy of Yeji herself. Yunho, shattering Aurora’s heart, ripping apart the tight knit group of four you adored being a part of. 

Parties were thrown, bans were lifted, life got easier.

Everyone moved on.

“Tor,” Mingi’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts, his hand extended for you to take. Seonghwa was headed through the line, a group of men and women calling him forward to send him through security, checking thoroughly through everything. “We’re next.”

Slipping your hand into his, folding your fingers together, your grip fitting in his like it was made to be there, you took to his side and pressed yourself against him. ”Should I tell them I said something?”

Mingi glanced down at you, then back to the three waiting a few steps behind you. He gave someone a smile, whoever caught him checking on them, and said, “That you outed their little threesome?”

Clicking your tongue you shook his hand around. “Come on. It was so damn obvious.”

Pressing his lips together he softened his eyes. “Tor, I know I’m not smart, but… it wasn’t.”

“Ugh, whatever,” you groaned, slouching. “Least you have something new to tell Yunho to show him what he fumbled.” Mingi clenched his jaw, his eyes shooting upward and around the airport. “What?” you asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

He shook his head. “Haven’t spoken to him since classes ended.”

Right. 

Of course he fucking hasn’t.

He’s said that to you.

All you could do was sigh, but that wasn’t answer enough. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked, looking down at you at his shoulder, a brow raised.

Shrugging, you used your other hand to gesture toward yourself, toward the day. “Everything,” you muttered, and smiled. 

Letting go of your hand he wrapped his arm around your waist and held you closer to him, smiling. “You’re tired, it’s okay,” he breathed, planting a kiss on your temple. “Sleep on the plane. When you wake up you’ll be on a beach.”

Taking a deep breath, you laid your head against him. “Thank fucking god.”

Sleep couldn’t find you. It wandered around you, teased you, reeled you in hook line and sinker, just to let you go with every tiny sound you’d probably be able to sleep through if your brain wasn’t full of bullshit you longed to be able to get rid of. Even with Mingi beside you, his eyes fluttering shut, eyelashes fanning his cheekbones the second his headphones were over his head, you couldn’t make it happen. He’d taken your hand at some point, his thumb dragging over the back letting you know he wasn’t completely asleep.

His blonde hair, shorter now that he’s gotten it cut, charmed you, as it normally would. His finger dragging over your skin, a little rough but all the more smooth, soothed you, as it normally would. His presence, his over-attentiveness, his need to keep you safe, taken care of, it overwhelmed you, when it normally wouldn’t.

Nauseated with yourself, with what you had just done to him, something you would never have to do, you were sick. You told each other everything, honesty was the glue that held the two of you together, he always said it himself, that the second that goes away is the moment your relationship is over. His own past haunted him just as yours did. His heart had been broken one too many times, the sweet faced gentle giant. Mingi craved loyalty, someone to look after, and someone to look after him, and he deserved it, more than anyone you knew. It’s been something you’ve been able to give him unconditionally all these years, and he’s been able to give the same back to you.

He’s never changed. He’s consistent. He’s too good.

“Hey,” a whisper pulled you from your circulating thoughts, the ones that haunted you when you were left alone for too long. Turning to your left, just over Mingi, Wooyoung was crouched over in the aisle. “Sorry.” He smiled and it tickled your skin. The boy oozed otherworldly beauty. “Ro’s asking for you.”

“Right now?” you asked, keeping your voice as low as his. People around you were either sleeping or trying to rest at this hour. Wooyoung nodded, his lips resting into something that triggered your fight or flight. “What does she want?”

“Won’t tell me,” he whispered. “Says she needs her sister.” His eyes narrowed but his face softened all at once. “Make sure she’s okay for me? Please?” His vulnerability with you is rare. With anyone other than Aurora his vulnerability was rare actually. One of the smartest in the group, an intelligent being with a knack for picking up on energies without even needing to meet the human being in person, he had the ability to hide his own, the ability to only show it when necessary, and it was powerful. His eyes pulled you from your seat, his words coercing you up without even realizing. The pied piper. A mastermind.

“I will,” you said as you passed by him, watching him slip over Mingi’s lap to take your seat. Your boyfriend opened his eyes when your hand slipped out of his. Sitting forward, he popped off his headphones and blinked up at you. “Going to talk to Aurora for a few,” you whispered, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“No, actually, I need to talk to you, too,” Wooyoung said, a hand tapping Mingi’s shoulder to both you and your boyfriend's surprise. 

“Sure,” Mingi said, his deep gravelly voice full of sleep.

Stomach sinking past your knees, through the bottom of the plane, plummeting into whatever state, city, county, jurisdiction you flew over, you gulped and turned away to start down the aisle.

She knew.

They knew.

They found out you said something. 

There isn’t anything else this could be about, Aurora needed to talk to you, Wooyoung needed to talk to Mingi, they knew you opened your mouth and outed them.

With each step you willed your breath to remain steady. Like Wooyoung, you were somewhat of an expert at keeping your secrets at bay, not showing any truth unless you wanted to share it with the class. That’s why Mingi hadn’t been able to see anything, you wouldn’t let him. Approaching Aurora now, peeking over her row, her in the middle seat, Soul sitting by the window with his head on her shoulder, you swallowed every groan, every eye roll at the sight, and sat down beside her.

Gazing out the window at the night sky, slouched a bit where she sat, one leg pulled up on the seat, leaning into the boy who snoozed on her, his tangled earbuds in his ears, she looked at you with the smallest smile, placing a hand over yours when it grabbed onto the armrest. 

“Hi,” she spoke within a whisper.

“Hi,” you answered, both of you keeping your voices low.

Her smile deepened. “I could feel your doom and gloom from back here.”

An eye roll snuck out of you. “You could, or Wooyoung could.”

Her smile vanished. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nevermind,” you breathed, “I’m just tired, I think once we’re there I’m going to sleep for forever.”

“Tori,” she studied you, “What did you mean by that?”

Remnants of this past school year. You might’ve been the only one still stuck, but that didn’t mean everyone else wasn’t affected by what had happened. She’d been doing this since the day she was appointed her position, asking for reassurance, double checking that everyone was good, that everyone was telling her the truth. You couldn’t blame her, if anything you were doing the same thing, just not outwardly. Aurora told you everything, though last fall she wasn’t, you understood she did it with good reason. She took how it made you feel and actively applied it to your friendship, and all the other relationships she valued in her life. 

Now you know too much, but nevertheless, at the end of the day, you are grateful she trusted you with such delicate details.

Delicate details that now half the friend group knew about.

“He knows people,” you said, taking her hand in yours. “That’s all.” Her eyes flickered between yours, analyzing, like her brain scanned you for any signs of dishonesty. “You don’t have to do this with me, you know that.”

Focusing her attention forward, eyes dropping to her lap, she shook her head. “Sorry,” she whispered, then turned back to you. “I just wanted to check on you, I feel like you’ve been off. Like we haven’t talked about stuff in a while.”

Because you’re spending so much time with Wooyoung and Soul?

Because you’ve been frolicking around like nothing occurred these last two semesters?

Because you act as though life is fine, like it’s nothing to take seriously?

“Summer gets busy,” you said to her, squeezing her hand, “We know this. We go back to living at home, we have bigger responsibilities now, we’re both in relationships, it happens, Ror.” Funny, she was supposed to be the one comforting you right now. “We’ll have so much time to catch up on the beach.” She started to smile. “We can leave the boys behind, or we can RorTor them to death like we used to, whatever you want to do.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, then placed a hand over Soul’s bleach blonde hair, dragging her fingers through the strands. “As long as he’s good. Seonghwa said he’ll keep him on a short leash, but… I worry about him.”

Your internal eyes narrowed. Your internal lips pulled into a scowl. The face you wanted to make lived deep inside of you, every feature screwing up into a What the fuck? You didn’t get it. He was a twenty year old going into his sophomore year of college, if he couldn’t take care of himself at this point, if he couldn’t get a grip on himself at this point… You didn’t think Aurora needed the responsibility of looking after him.

Your side-dick will be fine, is what you wanted to say to her. The pet you and Wooyoung play with can take care of himself.

You didn’t get it. Wooyoung confidently left them behind, Soul draped over her like they were the ones dating. It placed something in your gut, in your chest, something you’ve only felt when your parents showered your sister and her achievements in glitter and gold, when they seemed to care about her more.

That couldn’t be it.

That wasn’t what this feeling was, sitting here watching Aurora stroke the boy’s hair with her something of a boyfriend sitting a few rows ahead of them. You weren’t envious of this. You were not jealous, you did not wish to have this in your life. You didn’t yearn for change, for something new, for something fresh, for something taboo. 

“I can see it, Tor,” she said, a smile sneaking onto her lips. “There’s something wrong.”

“Aurora,” you whispered, the steadiness in your voice scaring yourself, “I’m fine.”

She gulped, let her stare bleed into yours for a few seconds, then pointed her eyes down to Soul. “Okay.” It was all she said, all she had left to say.

If Mingi couldn’t see shit, there was no way in hell you’d allow Aurora to see shit.

You wished it wouldn’t happen, but you could visualize the walls already built around you growing thicker.

It was like you said, you were fine.

You would be fine.

A month with them, just them, everyone, would sort everything out, as if you were back at school with them, back in close proximity to one another. It wouldn’t cause problems, it would solve them.

You hoped.

read it on ao3 | talk to me | my masterlist

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[compassionmattersmost]

Spirals of Harmony: A Deeper Look into the Crop Circle of August 29th

There’s something undeniably captivating about the crop circle that appeared on August 29th. As I gaze upon its intricate design, I’m drawn into a world where geometry and spirituality converge, where the mysteries of the universe seem to be woven into the very fabric of the earth itself. This particular formation, with its flowing spirals and perfectly balanced symmetry, speaks to something deep…

[misedejem]

I hope the game continues to deny Emet-Selch his rest after he died because something new keeps cropping up every time he tries, I think that would be quite funny

Like

You’re one of the last surviving members of your people, and for 12000 years you and the other survivors have been trying to bring them all back. It has been so long and you have considered giving up more than you care to admit. One of the three survivors has died, another has lost himself, and you’re so exhausted. And what is left of one of the people you loved more than anything has just killed you. Your soul returns to the Sea, and you think 'at least now I can rest’.

But no, suddenly you remember all the things from your life you had forgotten, because the aetherial sea really is like that, and you realise that awful work trip you had completely forgotten about? Turns out the memories you lost then told you exactly how the apocalypse that destroyed your people happened and also how to stop it (you couldn’t).

So you can’t rest because you’re processing that, and you should also be on standby because it looks like the Emissary is making his last stand, and you know it’s futile and you’ve lost, so by now you just want his suffering to end. You gain brief respite when he has been defeated, but the person you kind of abandoned as a Sin Eater for a century has now returned to the Sea and likely has a few choice words for you.

Then the last person in existence that you could possibly want to talk to at that point turns up and tells you to join Her on an inter-shard trip back to the Source, and you know you can’t refuse, because those memories you regained told you that you couldn’t. You know what happens for a while from here, and you know there is no point in resting now, so you resign yourself to watching the person who killed you and hoping their journey will be short. 

At which point, your coworker - who you now know kind of caused the apocalypse because of those regained memories of the terrible work trip - kills your God.

And you cannot rest, because killing your God did free the souls who were sacrificed to summon Him, and they are returning to the Star. Coworkers, relatives, acquaintences, all joining you in the Sea. Among them is the other person you love more than anything, and this reunion is more important than any rest you could ever want. But you also know that person was very good at denying you sleep when you were alive, and he surely has not changed so much that he will not do the same now that you are dead. 

You watch the destruction that befell your home so long ago devastate the Source, and the Warrior of Light returns to the First to make a journey you know will lead them to your younger self twelve millenia in the past, bringing the events you recalled full circle. You think, perhaps, you may finally be able to get some sleep. But this tale has not ended yet, and the Warrior of Light is now in the aetherial sea, making a lot of noise in heated battle with their God, and you and your beloved can do nothing else but watch your dear friend’s soul forge ahead to the end of their journey. 

At which point they drag you both out of the aetherial sea to the edge of the bloody universe to help them. And you do, because deep down you know you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you make a very immutable point of saying goodbye because surely, surely this is the end of your role in their story. You will wait and sleep in the aetherial sea until their soul joins you, and the three of you will return to the Star together. Surely this annoyingly undefeatable force of nature won’t die for some time yet, and you’ll have a good few decades of rest. 

And for a time, you do get that. A few months, a year maybe, of nothing of note happening that would concern you beyond perhaps some idle curiosities that Hythlodaeus insists you should see. And you think this is how it will be from now on.

Until the Ancient’s Extremely Dangerous and Fucked Up Monster Facility that should have been destroyed twelve thousand years ago appears on the Dead Person equivalent of your back doorstep, and you realise your suffering is never actually going to end

[xappetites]

Cpt. John Price and the accidental cockwarming incident

a little angst, fluff, sexual references

it hits John, in the dark and non threatening noise of being home for once, how fucking nice it is to be held. He knows you have to be up in a couple hours for work but he’s been gone for too long and you’re kind enough to indulge him.

You’re soft and warm and he’s here far more sparsely than he’d like, so the time he spends in bed with you, he likes to spend inside you. It’s an impulse from the heart, not the gut. An ache to be as close as possible, enough that he can’t tell his skin from yours in the sacred centimeters between you.

Your sigh brushes sweet against his collarbone and something rises in him like a stream, dragging up the flotsam of his subconscious.

The thoughts he does his best not to have space for when he’s halfway across the globe. When he’s aching for your arms around him and your fiercely independent soul, your sharp eyes softening at the sight of him. He can’t help but wonder how he measures up against the new experiences, the people that are here everyday to share them with you.

How much can an absent husband really weigh in the full life you have?

John Price is not a man of prayer, he has no time or use for appeals to the universe or divinity or whatever might be listening. But he begs here, with your fingers drawing circles over the close crop at the back of his head and your hips rocking a barely there rhythm into his.

Please let her remember this, let her feel me when I can’t be here for her.

“What’s wrong?”

You whisper, so close he could taste it, tapping a thumb on his jaw to get his attention. And it isn’t until the drop slides across the bridge of his nose that he even realizes he’s been tearing up.

“Just missed you, love.”

John’s voice cracks against his will, that and the way he follows your face —stubbornly trying to keep your noses touching— tell you it’s not as simple as missing you, he’s aware.

“I missed you too.”

You just smile at him, hiking your leg higher over his flank and tightening your sweet cunt around him, a quick reassuring grasp like you’d do on his hand. It pulls a chuckle out of him that vibrates through your chest and comes as an echo out of your own mouth.

“I left the Champions on the other day, just to have the commentator chatter in the house.”

He tries not to stare. You, who don’t give a damn about football. Neither does he, being completely frank, he’s just come to associate it with not having to be on edge around the clock, with being home. And now you have, too.

You let him hide his face in the crook of your neck, tuck you tight into his body until any movement other than the good natured tensing of your inner muscles is virtually impossible.

I love you, he wants to say. But he can’t trust it not to break him, so he limits himself to rubbing his beard on your skin to make you laugh. Groaning out your name in bursts of stimulation.

And when you fall asleep like that, with no other pleasure than being joined, neither of you could find it in you to complain.

[niebieskieoko]

Mysterious circles in the grain-an eclipse

[ntls-24722]

It's about time I made new refs for these 3 c:

They're this polyamorous trio of Debu who I love dearly. Lepit fled to Lewes, their village, to escape his death sentence, Rinkalla fled to Lewes to escape her fame and adoring fans, and Sindeer's... always been here. Now they're all dating eachother, under the scrutiny of everyone, making stupid bank as an iron trio with Sindeer bringing in lionfleas, Lepit making never-before seen dye out of them, and Rinkalla using them in her artwork that would become prized artifacts of the modern world.

Breakdown of designs and general loredump below the cut:

*rated on how easy they are to acquire, not how common they are in Debu art/fashion

So, a big thing with these 3 is that they've gotten famous for dealing with their last competent predators - the lionfleas (bottom of post), these bipedal pack-hunting bugs that take advantage of their enourmous size, and their dye isn't just desired because it's made from lions but also because the color is valuable in general, similar to how purple was prized and usually reserved for royalty because of how difficult it was to get.

The first 2 sections of colors are really common with the first one being found constantly in the rocks they're constantly quarrying to make their caves, and the second one being a really prominent color in their plants' "flowers." Yellows, greens, and cyans aren't usual plant/organic colors, so they're very hard to get as pigments, at least for Debu who need a lot more of it. Usually they can only get it through trading Zebrapeople who can create these pigments much more efficiently than Debu, as zebrapeople have domesticated bugs who create them. But these lionfleas' shells produce a surprising golden yellow hue from the vesigial wings that got incorporated into their elytras, and this dye is used in the fabric Sindeer makes as a huge moneymaker and a giant ass flex in their stoles.

Speaking of which, Valley Debu have 3 big ideals - heritage, your in-group, and history/recordkeeping. The second of which I'm about to show off rn:

*The right side is the right side of all of their stoles to show they're all a part of the same group, and each of their left sides show their role in it.

Also, the fertility symbol - I went over this in the first try of this post, but the debu fertility symbol is kinda universally known as this centermost circle within the object it's on, since it's supposed to resemble a yolk from an egg. A lot of societies have a specific sigil but it's very easily recognized from the aforementioned center circle thing. The damn thing is everywhere on account of fertility being a very big ideal for Debu - their environment is harsh, arid, and susceptible to frequent famine, and prospering crops and other Debu is something they look forward to.

Valley Debu really like grouping themselves, establishing and aligning themselves with communities, on the broader and individual scale. Yes they're very nationalistic, but they're also extremely proud of even just friendgroups, they love to show the pride and demonstrate their exclusivity within groups as niche as possible(which leads to a LOT of polarization and wars within Valley Debu). These 3 are no different and when they're out and around other Debu they wear a stole around their hump+shoulders showing off how they're the freaks who keep surviving their equivalent to lions and live to make them into dye. Usually though, around the house they're just naked :P

Also, Extra notes on some of the stuff I added as their professions!

Sindeer is a huntress but she's specifically a whistleblower one, and also carves whistles, and here's why. On Bolur, all 3 species domesticated cloes instead of something like a dog, these bird-like creatures who originally were domesticated to keep bugs off them and their crops, who can often be trained to respond to specific whistles that mimic the ones they use naturally. The cloes Debu domesticated act a lot like hunting hounds for Debu, they can locate and kill game. So basically, she hunts with flying dogs and makes dogwhistles.

Then there's Rinkalla, who among other things, makes cement?

On Bolur, they have have land coral, these photosynthetic things with a soft, marrow-y pith and a hard limestone outside. The homo mousike (3 sapient species) really like using it in their cement and concrete since it's really widespread, and Rinkalla... does that! The original reason was because Bolur didn't have wood, but I'm realizing that wood as a concept for plants is so incredibly simple that I don't think I can make it Not canon, even though it was a fun design constraint.

Also, last names: Valley Debu societies are generally patriarchal, but their love of recordkeeping extends past this - they prefer the mother's last name to be passed down since the mother is the most reliable parent. If someone gives birth, no matter what they say who's the father, you can never be sure. But whoever gave birth is DEFINITELY the parent, you know? Their last name also doesn't change even with marital status.

Lepit made his last name up

[talonabraxas]

Tonatiuh, the Sun or the Sun God. Symbol of the Fifth World, the present era.

The sun was a god to the Aztecs, a Mesoamerican civilization, for several reasons:

1. Life-giver: The sun was seen as a source of life, warmth, and energy, essential for crops and human survival.

2. Cosmic order: The Aztecs believed the sun's daily journey across the sky maintained the balance and order of the universe.

3. Warfare and sacrifice: The sun god, Huitzilopochtli, was also associated with warfare and human sacrifice, which were crucial to Aztec religion and politics.

4. Creation myth: The Aztecs believed the sun was born from the sacrifice of the god Nanahuatzin, who leapt into the fire to become the sun, symbolizing the cycle of life and death.

5. Agricultural cycles: The sun's cycles were closely tied to agricultural seasons, and the Aztecs believed the sun's rays fertilized the earth, ensuring fertility and abundance.

6. Imperial ideology: The Aztec emperor was often depicted as the sun god's earthly representative, legitimizing his power and authority.

The Aztecs worshipped the sun god through rituals, sacrifices, and ceremonies, believing that these actions ensured the sun's continued journey and the maintenance of the cosmos.

The Aztec sun stone - Aztec calendar stone

Aztec calendar stone showing the face of Tonatiuh, the sun god, at the centre.

(Aztec calendar stone)

The Aztecs were fascinated by the sun and carefully observed it, and had a solar calendar similar to that of the Maya. Many of today's remaining Aztec monuments have structures aligned with the sun.

In the Aztec calendar, Tonatiuh is the lord of the thirteen days from 1 Death to 13 Flint.

The preceding thirteen days are ruled over by Chalchiuhtlicue, and the following thirteen by Tlaloc.

Detail of the two innermost circles of the monolith.

The sculpted motifs that cover the surface of the stone refer to central components of the Mexica cosmogony.

Central Disk

In the center of the monolith is the face of the solar deity, Tonatiuh,which appears inside the glyph for "movement" (Nahuatl: 'ollin'), the name of the current era. The central figure is shown holding a human heart in each of his clawed hands, and his tongue is represented by a stone sacrificial knife (Tecpatl), expressing the need for sacrifices to allow the sun to continue moving across the sky.

The Four Previous Suns or Eras

The four squares that surround the central deity represent the four previous suns or eras, which preceded the present era, 4 Movement (Nahuatl: 'Nahui Ollin').

Each era ended with the destruction of the world and humanity, which were then recreated in the next era.

The top right square represents 4 Jaguar (Nahuatl: 'Nahui Ocelotl'), the day on which the first era ended, after having lasted 676 years, due to the appearance of monsters that devoured all of humanity.

The top left square shows 4 Wind (Nahuatl: 'Nahui Ehecatl'), the date on which, after 364 years, hurricane winds destroyed the earth, and humans were turned into monkeys.

The bottom left square shows 4 Rain (Nahuatl: 'Nahui Quiahuitl').

This era lasted 312 years, before being destroyed by a rain of fire, which transformed humanity into turkeys.

The bottom right square represents 4 Water (Nahuatl: 'Nahui Atl'), an era that lasted 676 years and ended when the world was flooded and all the humans were turned into fish.

Placed among these four squares are three additional dates, 1 Flint, 1 Rain, and 7 Monkey, and a Xiuhuitzolli, or ruler's turquoise diadem, glyph.

It has been suggested that these dates may have had both historical and cosmic significance, and that the diadem may form part of the name of the Mexica ruler Moctezuma.

Detail of the two innermost circles of the monolith.

Mexican anthropologist Antonio de León y Gama (1735-1802) wrote about the Sun Stone.

One aspect of the stone is its religious significance. One theory is that the face at the center of the stone represents Tonatiuh, the Aztec deity of the sun.

It is for this reason that the stone became known as the "Sun Stone." Richard Townsend proposed a different theory, claiming that the figure at the centre of the stone represents Tlaltecuhtli, the Mexica earth deity who features in Mexica creation myths.

Another feature of the stone relates to time, hence the name, "Calendar Stone."

Some of the circles of glyphs are the glyphs for the days of the month. Further, some of the symbols may represent the five ages that the Mexica believed the earth had passed through.

Yet another characteristic of the stone may be its geographic significance.

The four points may relate to the four corners of the earth or the cardinal points. The inner circles may express space as well as time.

Moreover, there is the political aspect of the stone.

It may have been intended to show Tenochtitlan as the center of the world and therefore, as the center of authority