#hope ritual kit

[tennessoui]

lmao how did my silly mermay au turn into pretend relationship

[angelbwrry]

strawberry shortcake. toji z.

cw 𐙚 oral, fingering, ass eating, unprotected sex, creaming, praise, cream-pie, masterbation. ummmm i think that’s all? oh yeah, you’re toji’s highschool sweetheart who hates his boxing career . . . minors shoo!

every night, you waited anxiously for him to come home.the door would creak open and there he would be, bruised and battered from another fight.your heart always ached at the sight, but you knew this was his dream, his passion. you hated seeing your boyfriend hurt, yet you endured it for his sake.

you’d lost count of how many times you had to patch him up, clean his wounds , and hold him while he winched in pain. it was like a ritual now , one you wished you didn’t have to go through. but everytime he looked at you with those eyes, full of determination and love, you know you can’t possibly ask him to stop. this is who he is, and you love him for that.

so , you endure.for him, for the two of you. you just wished he knew how much it hurt you.

as he stepped inside the cozy cinnamon scented home , you greeted him with a tender smile, masking your concern. from where you sat on the plush sofa you could see his bottom lip was busted, his nose caked in blood and there was a gash that showed the pink meat under his pale skin. you wanted to cry, but held it down.

“another tough match?” you asked softly. he nodded, exhaustion evident in his eyes. your hand grasped his and led him to the kitchen, where you had already laid out the first aid kit. you’d patched him up so many times before, it became second nature.

gently, you cleaned his wounds, your touch soft and caring. he would wince occasionally , but never complain. “i wish you didn’t have to get hurt.” you whispered, voice betraying you as it cracked subtly.

you mustered a small smile, eyes glancing over at the picture of the two of you at prom. highschool toji and you, you could remember those days like yesterday. you were just teenagers , full of hopes full of dreams. he was your highschool sweetheart , the boy who made your head race with just a smile.

every morning toji and you would walk to school together, hand in hand, talking about nothing and everything. he was your confidant , your best friend.you two spent hours studying together, laughing at stupid inside jokes, and sharing your deepest secrets. you could still feel the warmth of his embrace when he held you close during those chilly football games.

even now, years later you can’t but smile at the memories.you’d both changed and grown over the years , but those moments you two shared before this will always hold a special place in your heart.

“baby, you okay?” toji questions, legs spread on the chair as he pulls you between them. you give him a weak smile nodding, but he can see right through your facade.

he hated seeing you like this. every time he came home battered and bruised, the look in your eyes cut deeper than any punch he’d ever taken. you doesn't deserve this, having to play nurse and patch him up after every fight. he can tell it hurts you, even though you never say it.

you’re always so gentle, so patient, cleaning his wounds and making sure he’s okay. he wishes he could make it easier for you, but this is who he is. fighting is his passion, his dream. but seeing the toll it takes on you makes him question everything.

he just hopes you know how much he appreciates you , how much he loves you for standing by him despite it all. he didn’t want you to suffer because of his choices, but he also can’t give up on what he loves. it was a constant battle, one he fought every day, not in the ring, but in his heart.

“i made your favorite, handsome.” your sweet,sultry voice pulls him from your thoughts. you look so fucking pretty to him tonight, curls falling a bit past your shoulders framing your heart shaped face perfectly. you’re wearing the pink robe that he loves so much the silky fabric accentuates every curve. your face is bare of makeup and he can see the beauty marks that he loves to trace.

your pretty brown eyes lock onto his, and he feels his heart swoon. there’s something about the way you look at him that makes him want to hold and never let you go. he’s drawn to your plump two toned lips, and he wants nothing more than to kiss you. you’re effortlessly beautiful, stunning, and he’s reminded of just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

“mm’ chicken parmigiana sounds delicious baby.” toji hums, embracing you tightly causing you to giggle.you run your hands through his raven messy hair, it still smells like your strawberry shampoo. funny, considering the two of you had gotten into an argument because he claimed he didn’t use your shower necessities.

usually, you’d chew his ear off about it, but tonight you were just glad your man had made it home.

bruised but safe.

“you have that big fight tomorrow, yeah?” you asked softly, hands massaging into toji’s scalp. he was too wrapped up in your touch to vocally answer, a small ‘mhm’ coming from his throat. you swallow thickly, not being able to stop the knot that was forming deep in your gut as you thought about his match tomorrow.

toji’s a professional, and you know he’s strong, both physically and mentally. but still, the thought of him getting hurt out there makes you sick.

you’ve seen him train, seen the determination in his eyes, and you knew how much this meant to him.

toji’s always so confident, so sure of himself, and you’ve always tried to match that confidence. but deep down, you can’t shake the fear of him getting hurt. you just have to trust in his strength and his skill. he’s worked so hard for this, and you believe in him more than anything.

“i wanna come watch.”

toji retracts his head back, a quipped eyebrow raised at you. you never wanted to attend his matches, he didn’t blame you. it would be hard to see any person that you loved getting pummeled. so he was a bit taken back at your sudden willingness to attend.

“really?”

you nodded with a smile, “yes. i want to come and support my man,” you giggle. toji grins, nodding.

“well, i’ll make sure i don’t get my ass kicked.” he pulls you into a kiss, his touch instantly melting you. you want nothing more than to let him ravage your body on the kitchen table but he needs to eat and rest for tomorrow, he pouts when you push him away.

“down boy,” you tease.

your face pulls into a scrunch as you eye the frostings held in each of your hands , you’d decided to bake a cake for toji’s team. but, you were conflicted on which frosting to buy, buttercream or whipped cream. while you loved the taste of buttercream you hated how quickly it would melt and crack. on the other hand you also loved whipped, but you hated the way it leaked and you were unsure if it would be able to hold up the heavy cake layers.

baking had always been a hobby of yours, ever since you were a little girl. the smell of the fresh dough, the sound of the mixer , the warmth of the oven. you loved every step, and the best part? watching toji take the first bite of all your treats. his eyes would light up, and you’d know you’d hit the jackpot.

toji was always happy to be your taste tester, always ready to sample whatever new treat you’d whipped up. wether it be cake, cookies, or something simply experimental he was always game. it had become your routine, you bake , he tastes.

your thoughts were interrupted when a voice spoke to you.

you peered up, a man a bit older then you was standing in front of your cart. he had beautiful blue eyes and long brown hair that hung in his face, you assumed that you were blocking his away, after all you were standing directly in the cake aisle.

“oh, shoot! i’m sorry am i in your way?”

“not at all! i just couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are. and i was wondering if i could have your number?” he questioned.

before you could even open your mouth to speak you spotted toji storming up, an irritated look on his face as he watched the man talk to you. you’d sent him to go grab sticks of butter, not even ten minutes gone and some fuckface was trying to get with you.

in a flash toji was at your side, one inked arm around your waist protectively. if looks could kill this man would be six feet under the way toji glared at him.

“she’s not interested, fuck off.” toji said unamused, you could feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment at your boyfriends ludacris behavior. it was no doubt toji was the over protective type, but sometimes it could get overwhelming. but part of you found it attractive and incredibly romantic, in a strange way.

“toji,” you pressed your hands against his chest,”that’s not necessary.this gentleman was just asking me where the flour was.” you lie.you were afraid toji would beat the man into a bloody pulp if he knew the truth, your frantic eyes begged the man to go along with the quick lie. if the man had even said one thing that toji found offensive you knew paramedics would be peeling him off the floor.

“yeah…thanks for the help with the aisle number.”

phew.

a sigh of relief pushed through your lips when the man turned on his heels and left. you couldn’t blame him, toji was a six foot three muscled monster, you’d have to be insane to willingly fight him. and his scars from all of his previous fights only made him look more intimidating.

“was that necessary?” you ask, annoyance lacing your voice.

toji shrugs, “very.”

you facepalm,” whatever. let’s just hurry up and get home so i’ll have time to bake.”

buttercream it is.

the two of you had barely made it to the match, toji quickly got dressed and prepped by his team. while you offered red velvet cake around.

“don’t die on me fushiguro.” was the last thing you’d told your geared up boyfriend before he was whisked away to the ring.

the arena was buzzing with excitement as the crowd roared, but all you could focus on was him. your boyfriend, the love of her life, stood in the ring, muscles taut and eyes determined. you had seen him fight so many times before, but never a real match.

there was a palpable tension in the air, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed you now more than ever.

from your seat, you watched intently as the bell rang, signaling the start of the fight. his opponent was relentless, landing punch after punch, and you winced with every blow he took. it was painful to watch him struggle, his usual confidence wavering as he was pushed back against the ropes. your heart ached seeing him like this, but you knew you had to stay strong for him.

“come on, baby! you can do it!” you shouted, voice cutting through the noise of the crowd. you saw his eyes flicker towards you, a brief moment of connection that seemed to reignite something within him. you kept cheering, your voice unwavering and filled with love.

“you’ve got this! i believe in you!”

with renewed determination, he straightened up, shaking off the pain and fatigue. your words echoed in his mind, giving him the strength he needed to push forward.

he dodged a punch and countered with a powerful blow that sent his opponent staggering. the crowd erupted in cheers, but all he could hear was your voice, guiding him, encouraging him.

the fight turned in his favor, each punch he landed bringing him closer to victory. you watched with bated breath, your hands clasped together, silently praying for his success.

when he finally knocked his opponent to the ground, the referee began the count, and you could hardly contain your excitement.

“yes! yes! you did it!” you screamed as the final count was made, declaring him the winner.

you rushed to the edge of the ring, your heart pounding with pride and love. as he stepped out, battered and bruised but victorious, you couldn’t help but throw your arms around him.

“i knew you could do it,” you whispered, tears of joy streaming down your face.you kissed him passionately, not caring about the sweat and blood, just overwhelmed by the sheer emotion of the moment.

he held you tightly, his exhaustion melting away in your comforting embrace. “i couldn’t have done it without you,” he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude and love.

the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, oblivious to the cheering crowd around you two. in that moment, nothing else mattered but your love and the strength you found in each other.

the living room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow over the cozy space. you nestled into the couch, your head resting gently on toji’s chest. the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, a stark contrast to the intensity of the fight tournament you two had just returned from.

you were so happy you had decided to go; seeing him in action, giving his all, had filled you with pride and admiration.

his inked arm was wrapped around you,holding you close, and you could feel his calm heartbeat beneath your ear. you smiled to herself, savoring the quiet moment. the adrenaline from the evening had finally worn off, leaving them both in a peaceful, contented state. you thought he might have fallen asleep, his breathing so steady and deep, and you didn’t mind at all.

you wished things could always be like this—simple, serene, and full of love. the chaos of the outside world seemed so far away when you were together like this, just enjoying each other's presence. you gently traced circles on his chest with your finger, feeling the warmth and comfort of his body next to yours.

in that moment, everything felt perfect. the fight, the cheers, the victory—they all led to this, a quiet evening wrapped in each other’s arms. you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift into the tranquility of the moment, wishing that your lives could always be filled with such simple, beautiful peace.

“you know, i almost gave up.”

you lifted your head to toji, “what?”

“then i could hear you cheering me on, then i knew i couldn’t.”

before you could reply to your boyfriend his soft lips were on yours, earning a surprised shriek from you.his kisses held so much passion it made your stomach swirl with desire.you could only moan as his lips slid down to your neck kissing,licking,sucking bruises onto you that you’d have to cover tomorrow.his touch was fucking electric, each gentle peck of his lips on your skin send shocks throughout your body.

“let me show you how much i appreciate you princess,” toji husked darkly, beginning to move downward.you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter close as he began hiking up your oversized shirt, the feeling of his large hands kneading your doughy thighs making your stomach swirl in anticipation.

toji had barely touched you and yet here you were falling apart from the way he kissed your body.a gasp left your swollen lips as toji’s mouth brushed over your clothed cunt,you smelled so fucking good to him, sweet just like all the treats you’d bake him.

you looked so fucking pretty , your doe eyes gazing down at him with longing from beneath delicate lashes, legs spread in want.there was an excited glint in his eyes as they landed on your pink lace panties decorated with a bow on the hem.your stomach churned, “this pussy is perfect” he groaned.

“p-please touch me.” your soft voice cracked.you needed him to do something, anything, you were bursting at the seams. you gulped as you observed him kneel further down, feeling your legs spread further apart as he took you in. a smirk appeared on his lips.

“already so wet, and i’ve barely even laid a finger on you pumpkin,” he chuckled deeply.you felt your neck grow warm in embarrassment, he wasn’t lying your pussy was practically a water slide with how wet you were.

toji looped his fingers around your underwear and pulled them down your thick thighs,groaning at the sight of your quivering pussy. you let out a cry as he ran his finger along your juices and brought it to his mouth.the taste, an intoxicating blend of sweetness and bitterness sent waves of pleasure through him.

“so good,” he moaned.

your head tilted backward as his soft pink lips lazily licked over your pussy, savoring every drop of your essence. your stomach twisted as he opened your slick folds and ravished you, his nose brushing against your sensitive clit, causing pleasurable mewls to escape from you.

you grabbed his messy raven hair and pulled, evoking a deep moan from him as your short acrylic nails pressed enticingly into his scalp. he was looking forward to the the scratches you would leave on his back. a hand reached under your shirt to your sensitive nipples, toes curling as he played with the hard bud.toji knew your nipples were extremely sensitive yet he was always playing with them, sucking, biting, licking.

just before returning his hand to your trembling thigh, he gave your nipple one final tug.

toji released weeks of built-up sexual tension with his tongue onto you, remembering every time you brushed against him and every moment you kissed him, your warm body pressed against his. you’d denied him each time, knowing he needed all the rest he could get before his upcoming match.he expressed all his desires without any remorse for your trembling pussy.

his mouth wrapped around your swollen clit and your back arched.

“fuck, i’m so s-sensitive! s-slow down toji," you begged, as his tongue swirled quickly around the sensitive bud. a jolt of shock coursed through your body when his teeth grazed it, causing you to gasp. you were nearing your climax and fast. though you felt embarrassed about reaching this point so fast, each touch from him was wrapped pure ecstasy.

each fucking touch of his tongue made your lips quiver and he wrapped his arms around your thighs, drawing you deeper into his embrace.”t-toji," you whimpered, your words stuck in your throat.

"damn, i enjoy hearing you say my name like that," he murmured against you, the rumble of his voice intensifying your pleasure. he glanced up at you, feeling excitement as he took in the sight. you hung your head forward in ecstasy, your mouth open as a stream of whiny moans and expletives escaped. your eyebrows knitted together above tightly shut eyes. he noticed your arms trembling under the effort to hold yourself up and grinned.

his actions left your head spinning, and you couldn’t help but grip the sofa as your eyes rolled black.

toji knew you had a tendency to run and he has you locked in his arms, legs wide open. he quickly took advantage of your flexibility bending your legs backwards until they were inches from your face.

his tongue found its way to your asshole warming a squeal from you, your stomach was twisting as he licked around the ring of your ass. “toji!” you cried out as he ate your ass hungrily.toji had always been an ass eater, he always begged to do it even if he wasn’t getting anything in return.

his tongue feels warm and electric. he’s eating you softly and sensually, bliss spreading slowly throughout your body. he picks up speed, he’s rough and passionate now, tears pricking your eyes, every lick lighting up your senses.

“tell me how daddy’s making you feel,” toji moans, licks now back working on your shivering cunt.you cry out as his tongue flutters against your throbbing clit, words caught in your throat.a crack of his hard thunders across you thigh, a squeak erupting from you.

“don’t be rude princess, tell me.”

“g-good, sooo fucking g-good daddy!” you whine, thigh stinging.

a high pitched whimper left your lips as he slid two fingers inside of you, the stretch making your body churn in pleasure. toji and you hadn’t had sex in weeks so you were extremely tight and his two fingers felt like four.”so tight, guess i’ll have to break you in baby.” toji laughed, fucking laughed.

he knew he possessed complete control over you, and this exhilarated him. you were putty in his hands.

his lips reattached to your clit as you let out a soft moan; the sensation of his finger combined with his tongue on your clit bringing tears to your eyes.he added another finger, causing you to wince at the stinging sensation, a mixture of your fluids mixed with his saliva seeped from you onto the bed.

every thrust from toji had your stomach fluttering.your pussy gripped his fingers tightly, he realized you were approaching your edge, which spurred him on to pound your pussy even more fiercely.

“damn,already? i wanted to have more fun.” he chuckled.

“f-feels s-so good,” you whined out.with one final glide of his fingers combined with a teasing lick of your clit, you found yourself reaching the peak of pleasure as your body arched in ecstasy.toji continued his movements, his fingers curling into that particular spot, you were a sobbing mess.

your stomach clenched , and before you could snap your legs closed you were squirting all over toji.he quickly retracted his fingers and rubbed your clit in hard circular motions,a wide smile on his face.

“squirt on me baby.”

surprise washed over you when he opened his mouth and started drinking your fluids, collecting each drop from you with his agile movements. your arms grew weak, and your back slammed against the sofa arm.

when he finally pulled away, a string of your juices mixed with his saliva broke.the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness, you beckoned toji with your pointer finger. he wastes no time wrapping his hands around you, crashing his lips against yours, swiftly removing your shirt.

while his hands explored you, yours explored him.as you looked at him, your eyes traced the lines of his physique. his toned stomach and buff arms were a testament to his dedication and hard work as a boxer. each muscle, each curve of his body told a story of countless hours spent training and pushing his limits.

your gaze softened as you noticed the scars and bruises from his match. they were reminders of his strength and resilience, each one a badge of honor. you couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection and admiration for him.

you leaned in closer,lips gently brushing against the marks on his skin. you kissed each bruise and scar tenderly, as if your touch could somehow ease the pain and heal the wounds.

“they don’t hurt baby,” he said softly, thumb caressing your cheek lovingly.you nodded, fingers wrapping around the hem of his sweatpants and swiftly pulling them down.you gulped at his dick.It was easily nine inches long and had the girth of a soda can, you’d forgotten how big he fucking was.

as if he could read your mind he spoke up, “promise i won’t break you beautiful.”

your lip caught between your teeth and you nodded, a gasp of surprise leaving you when toji pulled you up and forced you to lay stomach first on the sofa.

the sound of moans engulfed the space as he penetrated you, stretching your sensitive pussy further than you ever thought possible with his full length.he was so fucking deep it felt like he was in your stomach.

your legs trembled with anticipation before he even started, you pressed your cheek against the cushion and closed your eyes.

“just breathe,”

the wind was knocked out of you as toji began pounding into you,your ass clapping against his stomach with each thrust of his hips.you cried out and gripped the edge of the sofa, he hadn’t even let you get fully adjusted and the sharp pain that encased your pussy had your head reeling.

“d-daddy!” you panted in pleasure, you felt so fucking good around his dick and it had his head light.your round ass jiggled with each movement,he spread your cheeks and let out a groan as he watched your greedy pussy lips suck on his dick each time he pulled out.

you felt pathetic underneath him, you could feel his hand pressing into the small of your back, forcing you to arch deeper.you whined in pleasure as he angled himself deeper into you.

“play with your pussy babe,” he husked,one hand placed on the small of your back whilst the other held your ass.”o-okay,” you whimpered, cheek still pressed against the sofa as you began rubbing your sensitive nub.

the sensation of his dick prodding into you and your clit being stimulated had you sounding like a wild animal.you hadn’t been fucked like this in a while and didn’t realize how much you missed it.you looked so fucking sexy to him,plump lips frowned, a thin coat of sweat glistening on your brown skin.

his knees buckled underneath him as he felt your hand grip around the base of his dick, stroking him as he pounded into you.”f-fuck,” he whined breathlessly, your stomach churned.his whines were so fucking pretty, they were a mix of deep and high pitched and it made you want to cum right then and there.you gripped his base so tight it had his head rolling back,he was fully consumed in pleasure as he thudded into you, fingers finding their way to your ponytail and forcing your head up.

“you’ve been waiting for this huh?”

you gulped down a moan,back arched as he wrapped your hair around his hand.

“y-yes.” you admitted breathlessly.

“i know baby.” he cooed,releasing your hair roughly causing your head to jut forward.he reveled in the feeling of your pussy around him,he couldn’t help but bury his face into your neck.his soft grunts and moans played like music in your ears,”you’re fucking me so good.” you moaned.

your soft voice spurred him on, he was nearing his end and quick.he didn’t want to finish so quickly,but the way you spoke,felt, and even the way you always fucking smelled like strawberry shortcake had his stomach filled with knots.he retracted himself from your neck and grasped your ass with both hands,using it as leverage as he drilled into you. he refused to come before you did.

“fuck toji! I’m so close!” tears cascaded down your cheeks as you placed both hands back onto the sofa, bracing yourself.he was fucking you with more passion, more desire and it had you in shambles.you couldn’t help but let your hand find its way back on your sensitive clit, rubbing in time with toji’s thrust.

”a-ah!” you sobbed as you feel his swollen tip prod against your g-spot.

“found it.” he chuckled and you cried out underneath him each time he pressed against the spot.your entire body was shivering from pleasure as he bucked his hips into you mercilessly.your back arched as you felt the pressure in your stomach release, you were a whiny, cumming ,mess and it made toji even harder.

“creaming on my dick like a good girl.” he grunted admiring the sight, a ring of cream covered his dick and stuck to his pubes.he found the sight erotic,and with another buck of his hips he was cumming on your back.his eyes shut tightly as he stroked himself, spurts of hot cum trailing down your back onto your ass.

“good ass pussy.” he shakily stated,pulling you up and turning you around.his soft lips were back on yours, kissing you softly.you moaned,wrapping your arms around his neck.he couldn’t get enough of you, he needed more, he wasn’t ready to stop.he gently placed you down on your back and settled between your legs,your jaw falling slack as he pushed back inside of you, his deep moans mixing with your higher pitched ones.

your legs wrapped around him burying him deeper into your weeping cunt.

that night, you were wrapped in each other’s arms, lost in the passion and love that flowed between you.every touch, every kiss, was filled with an intensity that seemed to transcend time. the two of you made love all night, bodies moving in perfect harmony, hearts beating as one.

nine stressful months later, you find yourself holding your beautiful baby in your arms. it was hard to believe that this tiny, perfect being was created from that night of pure, unbridled love. as you look down at your child, you feel an overwhelming sense of awe and wonder.

you remember the way you held each other, the way you two whispered sweet nothings in the dark. those moments of intimacy and connection have now given you two the greatest gift of all. your baby’s eyes flutter open, and you see a reflection of both toji and you in those innocent, curious eyes.

tears fill your eyes as you think about the journey the two of you have been on, the love that has brought you to this moment. holding your baby, you feel a deep, unbreakable bond with both of them. your love has created a new life, a new chapter in the story.

as you cradle the child, you whisper promises of love and protection.in your heart, you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful, lifelong journey together.

@ CINNN4MON ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.DO NOT STEAL OR MODIFY.

to have this life, sigh.

[itsstuck]

Perhaps it was a mistake to choose dinosaurs as your topic for your university's science fair. Perhaps you screwed up following the instructions or did not read them carefully enough.

You sat in your dorm, half your project done, sat on your desk. A little nest where you were going to present the replica dinosaur eggs, without its crown jewel however the eggs.

You rubbed your humongous stomach self consciously which has stretched to an unimaginable size. You were naked but there was no way you could see further than your gargantuan bullet shaped stomach littered with red and purple stretch marks and veins. 'Gives a whole new meaning to "ready to pop"' you thought to yourself. You squirted more oil you purchased from a dubious store (along with the egg kit of course) on your puffy pussy that you could barely reach and rubbed it in. It made you feel hot all over but still you dutifully resumed your nightly ritual.

The rubbing felt incredible, before you knew it you barely had any oil left and you were writhing beneath your stomach. You probably would've arched your back off the bed too if you weren't pinned against it by the weight. Then suddenly something shifted within you, you could practically feel your pelvis creak as a torrent of fluid flooded your bed.

You tried to at least get yourself up on your elbows to see in the mirror facing your bed, what was going on.

The bed was soaked alright and between your legs was something slimey and brownish.

"What the fuck..." you muttered to yourself, trying to at least somehow maneuver your body on your hands and knees. Was this it? Upon examining it closer, you realised what it was and your heart dropped just as an extreme wave of pain washed over you. It was the fucking mucus plug. But why was it so huge. How much would your cervix have to dilate if this was keeping it sealed. 15 cm? 20 cm?

You started to feel sick. Just how many eggs were there?!

The sudden pressure increasing tenfold halted your train of thought.

At least you were already on your hands and knees right, besides you had the whole night to yourself. You bore down gingerly and hoped that your huge stomach pressing against the mattress would help too. Nothing but more liquid came out and the pain and pressure was only increasing.

After 3 hours of rocking back and forth with 0 results you decided it was time to get serious about this. You steadied yourself, gripped the sheets and gave a huge push.

Nothing.

1 hour into birthing with all your might you didn't even notice how far apart your legs were and how much your lower half felt like jelly when finally you felt something behind your entrance. Encouraged by the progress you began pressing on the top of your stomach with one hand while gritting your teeth and bearing down hard. Something began emerging. Covered in a slimey substance a jelly like egg started poking through your aching cunt. You moaned and pushed as hard as you could, waiting for the relief of it plopping out onto the blanket so you could birth the rest but it never came. With the next effort you buried your face into your pillow, hopefully muffling your desperate screams. Every time you let up the egg would slide back, nestled deep into the warm slick of your pussy.

This went on for another hour or so when you finally gave a push hard enough that got the egg to a point it wouldn't slip back from. You almost felt relieved. It will slide out any second, right?

Your pussy was stretched to its natural limit as you panted and pushed. But this birth was anything but natural...your only luck was that you kept up your oil regimen because soon you felt something slick and almost gelatinous touch your inner thighs, even with your legs spread.

"Wh-what?!" You whined into the pillow.

Fuck.

No no no no no.

This was supposed to be several small eggs not ONE. Cold sweat covered every inch of your body as the realisation hit. How would this ever come out?! There was no way you could call for help, what would you say, not to mention that you were fully immobilised by the gargantuan egg spreading you open way past what should be humanly possible.

Back when you realised what was happening to you, you tried watching at least SOME birthing videos though you knew your experience would be nothing like that. You tried to think back to them hoping to remember anything from the ones where petite women would have to squeeze out a 10lbs kid. Although even those babies would seem like light work compared to whatever was stuck in you. The pain made it much to hard to think but then suddenly you had an idea!

Gravity would help.

You gathered all your strength to heave yourself up from your hands and knees only onto your knees you could hopefully get into a crouching position from there. However as soon as you glanced up and caught your reflection in the mirror, in a split second, before you could change the outcome you realised it was a huge mistake.

The egg was absolutely humongous and your pussy was stretched grotesquely around it, completely white and on the brink of tearing and worst of all you could not kneel down as the egg was so gargantuan. It was touching the mattress. Or at least you couldn't kneel down without the egg sliding back into your tortured cunt a few inches with a sickening squelch.

You held back the urge to throw up and fought until you were in a squatting position.

You didn't care about making noise anymore, you screamed while pushing down on your pulsating stomach that was urging you to expell the giant egg while with your other hand you reached down to rub your clit. The clit you could barely locate as it was practically flat against the egg with your pussy pulled so taut.

This seemed to be somewhat helping you progress however an earth shattering orgasm caught you off guard and you lost your balance.

You fell onto your back and with the sudden change of position your birth canal caused the hideously massive egg to practically be sucked in once more. All the progress you made was undone and the wind was knocked out of you at the ginormous intrusion. You screamed and thrashed on the bed, violently pressing down on your stomach and pushing with strength you didn't know where you got from.

By this time you were laboring for over 8 hours. You laid in bed and just felt wave after wave of contraction wash over you, the weight of the egg in your birth canal had to be about 50lbs and every 10 minutes or so you felt a dull sensation of pleasure course through you as the contractions were easing the egg out of you agonising by agonising millimeter and every once in a while it'd brush against your tortured clit just right.

You were just about to resign yourself to your fate when you realised the small bottle of oil was within reach in this cursed position. There was still some left, not that it'd make much difference now, you were probably going to die like this. With a humongous egg wrecking your lower half.

You picked up the bottle and with hazy eyes read the instructions again. This was your last hope. Maybe you missed something.

'MORE effective if orally taken?!'

Your eyes widened as you wasted no time gulping down the last of it. Too bad you didn't read another sentence which would've clarified that you only need droplets in a glass of water.

It immediately took effect and kicked your labour into high gear again, you screamed as you practically felt your womb and birth canal undulating, forcing you to scream and push like never before. You spread your legs nearly into a split while thrusting your hips into the air.

"Fuck! FUCK! My cunt will tear, fuck fuck my pussy!!!"

The egg slowly slid out and stopped at its widest point. This made you trying to hold your legs back an utter waste as the egg was already doing it for you. The pain made you unable to breathe properly. You took shallow panicked breaths but by this point you lost all sense of your dignity.

You HAD to give birth then and there.

You let out an animalistic scream and screwed your eyes shut. A vein popped out on your forehead and no doubt you burst a few blood vessels. You didn't care anymore, you used both hands to push down on your stomach and gritted your teeth hard enough to chip them

"FUCK, COME OUT ALREADY!!"

Then with a contraction that made you see stars, the egg erupted from your canal, not to mention the aftershocks of your final effort pushed out at least 5 liters of whatever fluid this was out of your pussy along with the huge egg, mixed with urine that you couldn't bear to hold any longer. Your bed was sopping wet and your cunt twitched and pulsated as one of the most intense orgasms of your life ripped through you.

Before you passed out you mustered enough strength to glance at the clock on your bedside table.

It was almost midday.

Didn't the science fair end at 11...?

[kedsandtubesocks]

what the water gave us

Merman!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: the fairytales were half true, the merman you found is indeed handsome but oh so grouchy

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, merman/human relationship, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older) instances of blood & injury, brief violence, Joel still being a terrifying force even as a merman, very light discussion of grief & loss of a loved one (Joel with Sarah & reader with their father) grumpy but soft!Joel, sharing food as a love language, use of nickname, protective!Joel, slightly possessive!Joel, f!oral receiving - along with spicy moments, mentions of mating & merfolk courting rituals

word count: 7.6k

a/n: here it is - the nice final surprise for our mermay mini series, this is for all of us who would kiss fuck the handsome merman lol! Thank you to @pr0ximamidnight for letting me scream about this & to @the-wild-wolves-around-you for always being the best support - and to you, if you’re reading this, thank you so much ♡

The sun hangs low against the sky, painting the world in a soft orange creamsicle shade. Sliding your shoes off, you sink into the soft sand and walk the shoreline.

You love your aunt and uncle dearly. But having such a large get together at their house to meet the neighbors and their friends just got too much. It’s why you politely excused yourself and ended up here.

The crash of the waves, the peaceful quiet of the thankfully vacant beach, it all settles you while you walk aimlessly getting lost in your thoughts.

Until a sharp deep growl pierces the air.

The noise sounds close, electrifies your skin, and makes you stop. That’s when you notice trickles of blood in the water.

Petrified your eyes follow the trails.

Then you come across a sight you can’t believe.

By the long stretch of rocks leading out from the shore into the sea, a man sits half up on the rocks.

Older, distinguished in the wrinkles around his face and beautiful grays in his curled hair, his skin however seems drained of color. There’s also a huge gash against his side as if he was impaled.

Even though he’s partially out of the water, you notice, the skin at his hips don’t lead to legs. Your eyes go wide.

Another snarl of a growl comes and you realize it’s this man. His face fiercely stares you down in menacing terror.

“You’re hurt!” You blurt out.

“Get the fuck outta here!” He howls, even has an accent of someone from this area.

“You’re bleeding out too fast!” You don’t even know medical conditions that well to know this isn’t good.

On your walk here you noticed a few beach towels left vacant on the shore.

You immediately turn around and bolt.

The man screams out a curse, yelling at you to stop, but you don’t. Thankfully you don’t have to search too far down the beach to spot one of the forgotten towels. Quickly grabbing it you then rush back.

The strange man is still on the rocks, but it’s obvious he tried sliding down them in an escape. However it opened his wound up more.

“Wait!” Now you cry out. “I know this isn’t much but this can stop the bleeding for now!”

You offer weakly that you could maybe try to get medical attention, but even weary his eyes go wide, and he snaps out a fast sharp no.

“Then you need to wrap this around the wound or press into it.” You offer the towel.

“Y’don’t think I know how to handle this, ya dumb human?” He snarls.

Human. So he isn’t human like you suspected.

“Your wound is getting worse.” You urge now, promising you won’t get others but have supplies that can help.

“Do what ya fuckin’ want.” He snarls.

Gingerly, you place the towel down on a rock then scramble out of the water and head back to your family’s beach home. Thankfully everyone has moved upstairs, allowing you to sneak in, grab a first aid kit, then leave.

You just hope the man hasn’t left or gotten worse.

The sky grows dimmer. The sun almost vanishes beyond the horizon. And thankfully, the man is still on the rocks.

Yet his eyes flutter in and out of consciousness.

Keeping the first aid kit as dry as you can above the waves, you rush into the water towards him.

He’s barely awake, might not even fully notice you’re beside him now. But quickly you unpack things fast on the nearby rocks and tend to the wound as best as you can. The man hisses a half growl at the padding you place to stop the bleeding. Then you use an embracing amount of large bandages over the wound.

The bleeding doesn’t seep through the wraps and it’s enough for now. You’re afraid of leaving him here, but you’re more worried about moving him. So taking the towel you grabbed, you delicately drape it over his body, keeping his face open.

He seems human enough from his upper body. This mystery man is also handsome, scarily so. But the sky is getting dark, and you need to get home. Gathering your things you return to the beach house.

“Hey, where’d ya go?! And what’s with the first aid kit?” Your mom says a bit surprised.

You explain with a half lie that you went walking on the beach and helped a guy who got cut.

“Well look at you! What a hero.” She grins warm and her words feel soft.

That night you barely get any sleep and think of the man on the rocks. Earlier, when you were panicking trying to tend to his wound, you didn’t have time to fully look into the ocean at his lower body. But you caught a glimpse.

You saw a partial marine like body, a sea creature like tail even among the cloud ocean water.

A merman, you had possibly helped a merman.

Now you just hope he makes it through the night.

Scrambling awake the next morning, you make an excuse of wanting to enjoy the beach bright and early, and head to the rocks.

Of course he’s gone.

You almost knew he wouldn’t be here. A piece of you did hope, faintly hoped, he would be. Even the towel is gone.

Out in the ocean a loud splash, like someone slapping against the water, arrives.

There floating in the waves, only seen from the chest up, is the mystery man. He’s okay. He’s here. He’s alive.

“You’re alright.” You exhale relieved.

This man glares at you fiercely. It highlights his weathered wrinkles but also intensifies his handsome features. There’s an intimidating and hardened nature radiating off this gorgeous creature.

“Why did ya save me?” He flat out asks, and you’re stunned.

That’s what he came here to ask you about?

Your face even scrunches up slightly confused, but you tell him the truth.

He was hurt. You had to try and do something.

The answer does soften his features. If anything his eyebrows furrow harder.

“Y’fuckin’ tell anyone about me?”

For possibly being a mythical being, this man does speak very human. You shake your head no, promising you didn’t and won’t ever tell anyone.

He scoffs, distrusting.

With sharp narrowed eyes, he gives you one final look before slipping back into the water.

You sit on the shoreline for what feels like hours, but he doesn’t return.

A bit dejected and quiet, you head home.

Later, trying to get your mind off everything, you decide to enjoy the time you’re here and head into the water.

The wind provides a nice breeze, and the sea swirls around you. Slowly you trek deeper into the ocean letting the water rise. Eventually you comfortably float and glance back towards the shoreline. Your mom lounges in her lawn chair with the recent book she just bought. The sky, beautifully soft this morning, now seems dimmer with all the clouds moving in.

A wave crashes over you from behind.

Powerful and large it drags you under. You were so focused on watching the beach you didn’t even see it coming.

Now you’re under the water, caught beneath the sea.

The saltwater stings your eyes as you try swimming against the current. But you’re a bit disoriented and even trying to just float back to the surface seems harder.

Suddenly warm solid hands are on your hips pulling you up. You’re guided up to the surface. Sweet air fills you and you cough through the stinging in your lungs. You’re kept above the water, held up.

You whip around trying to see who helped you, but there’s no one around.

Someone screams your name frantically. Your mom and your aunt on the edge of the water shout for you.

Weary from the waves you slowly swim, practically float, back to shore before your family scrambles to help you out. They rapidly ask if you’re okay, covering you with towels.

“We saw you go under and didn’t come up for so long.” Your mom explains still very worried.

“Did you guys see that shark?!” From behind by the beach house, your uncle calls out as he comes running.

“Wait, shark?” You blurt out.

Your uncle rapidly explains how he saw the fin poking out of the water around you.

“Could have been a dolphin.” Your aunt offers.

“No, definitely looked like a shark. Thank goodness you got outta the water.” Your uncle playfully ruffles the towel over your head.

A few bystanders sitting nearby ask how you’re doing and also comment how they swore they saw the ominous shark fin swimming around you.

A shark. It doesn’t make sense. You felt strong very human hands on you. You knew a guiding force saved you.

But then the thick cotton clouds above pop and the rain comes. After heading inside and deciding to rest for the day, your gaze stays watching the harsh waves. The storm and ocean move in tandem. You wonder about the man you met, if he’s safe in the water.

Maybe it’s all the talk of the supposed shark in the water, but before you end up fading into a nap, you swear you see a fin swimming in the current.

- 𖤓 -

“You gonna be okay with us heading to the museum?”

For the millionth time you reassure your mom you’ll be fine staying back and getting more rest. The rain from yesterday’s storm stayed, a quiet downpour thankfully not as strong. After everyone heads out, you see this as an opportunity to head out to the beach.

With the rain, the shoreline is vacant. So with your umbrella you head to the beach. The murky water under the dim sky seems more mysterious and your eyes scan the waves, maybe waiting for something to appear.

“Glutton for punishment or somethin’?” The familiar twanged voice.

Immediately you snap your gaze to the side. There in the water, closer to the edge of the shore, is your mystery man.

You blurt out how worried you were about the storm and about him. His eyebrows furrow.

“Ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” He answers muttering.

“And you,” he asks, nudging his handsome chin towards you. “Y’doin’ alright?”

Your heart jumps in your chest. He came to check up on you.

Nodding firmly, you thank him gratefully. You knew it had to be him who saved you in the water.

The man simply nods.

You swallow hard then blurt out if he’s seen a shark.

His face hardens confused. It’s actually adorable with how curiously his dark eyes shine.

“A shark?” He mumbles.

“Yeah, thought I saw a fin in the water.” You don’t want to tell him your uncle did as well.

“Wasn’t a shark.” He answers gruffly, almost a scoff.

You want to press more, ask if it was a dolphin instead when your stomach instead growls loud. Your eyes go wide embarrassed.

One of his eyebrows raises.

“Sorry, need to grab some lunch soon.” You sigh embarrassed.

“Then head inside, lil’ minnow. Go get somethin’ to eat.” He says firm.

Before you can reply he’s sinking back in the water. But as he swims away that’s when you catch it faintly -

A sleek fin towering out of the water.

The shark creature is him.

Also…you realized he just called you a little minnow and for some reason, you find it oddly affectionate.

The next morning a mess of crabs clutter the beach. Even the neighbors besides your family’s place head to the shore to admire.

“It’s like the sea wanted us to have a crab bake.” Your mom laughs.

“They normally don’t wash up on the beach in this many numbers, it’s odd.” One of the neighbors explains to your uncle.

While everyone eagerly moves to get the crabs, your eyes stay on the water hoping to spot a fin among the waves.

At night, once everyone is asleep, you quietly slip out and head to the beach. The patio lights from the beach homes cast a soft illumination. The crashing waves among the abyss beyond are strangely calming even with the darkness of sea and sky stretching out wide.

Patiently you sit at the edge of the water, not even knowing what you’re truly doing here.

“Persistent one, ain’t ya?”

His voice emerges from the darkness and your soul almost jumps out of your body. This time the mysterious man flutters up from the waves and is closer than before.

“Why were there so many crabs on the beach?” You ask quickly and curious.

“Don’t know. Crabs are fuckin’ weird little shits.” He replies bluntly with a hard grimace.

A part of you thinks he does know why.

“How’s your wound?” You ask.

Gingerly he lifts himself closer to the shoreline and then goes to rest halfway upon the beach allowing you a sight of his torso.

The area where the wound is healing up nicely and you even grin relieved.

But him being half out of the water onto the shore also allows you a better glimpse at his lower body.

Tail. He has a tail.

It’s sleek, a deep stormy gunmetal gray, that in this dim lighting almost seems like a lovely rich blue. Faintly you can even see the dorsal find at his lower back.

It’s beautiful.

He’s beautiful. Lovely sun and age spots pepper his skin. His bare chest is broad and seems strong. This man from the sea is burly, solid, and aged, a force of the water that speaks of his power that’s weathered the tides

You don’t even realize you’ve said something, much less called him beautiful, until your mystery man responds.

“Y’think I’m beautiful?” He sounds terribly confused.

“Weirdest god damn human I ever met, lil’ minnow.” He adds muttering.

“I have a name.” You huff back, gently teasing.

“Yeah?”

Your lips twitch at his reply, and you give him your name. This beautiful merman stays quiet.

“And you? What’s your name?” You ask cautiously but hopeful.

No reply comes. You’re worried you’ve pressed your luck.

“Joel.”

Until he answers, and you discover this merman’s name is so lovely.

“Don’t normally see ya around here.” Joel comments.

You perk up asking if he lives nearby.

“More or less.” A cryptic answer.

You explain that you’re here for the summer. After finishing up for the semester you and your mom decided to take a break out here.

“Younger than I fuckin’ though.” Joel says harsh under his breath, and annoyance bristles in you.

“Probably not as young as you think.” You argue back, even explaining you’re just starting grad school so the break was needed.

Joel scoffs, not looking convinced.

“Maybe you’re just an old barnacle.” You fire back, teasing.

Surprisingly, this man from the water snorts amused. The sound is precious. You want to ask him more, learn more about him, but a tratorious yawn escapes you.

“Head to sleep, lil’ minnow.” Joel mumbles.

“Not tried.” You huff, but another yawn betrays you.

“Mhm.” Joel hums, and you think you see a twinkle of amusement in his deep eyes.

There’s so much you want to say, maybe even ask when you’ll see him again. But rising up off the sand, you hear a splash in the waves.

The spot where Joel rested is now empty. A wistful ache settles into your chest.

However the next morning though, an impressive mess of clams and oysters are on the beach. A bright bubble of a laugh almost escapes you.

When the night rolls in, you again sneak back down to the beach. This time you bring some of the leftover sushi from dinner.

You don’t wait for long before Joel swims onto the shoreline.

You greet him with a warm grin. His focus however is on the container on your lap. His handsome scrunched up face seems grumpier.

“What’s that?” He rumbles.

“It’s just fish and rice.” You explain opening the container. “Thought we could share.”

“It’s sushi.” He flat out says and your eyes go wide. He knows what sushi is and you even admit your surprise.

“Yes I know what sushi is.” He replies a bit crabbier. “Don’t live in a fuckin’ damn cave.”

“Where do you live?” You ask now.

“Somewhere.” He replies flatly not answering, so you don’t push it.

Instead you return to the meal before you.

“Since it’s fish, thought you might enjoy it.” You offer.

“You…brought me food?” His voice sounds steeled, cautious. You realize how suspicious it sounds and how hesitant he would be.

“It’s fine, I promise.” You reassure and even prove it by chomping down on one of the California rolls. Trying to ease the tension you ramble about the different types of sushi you like and those you don’t care for too much.

You realize now you must sound ridiculous. You’re about to clamp your mouth shut when very cautiously, slowly, Joel reaches over and grabs one.

It’s like feeding a stray cat and not wanting to scare it. You can’t help but turn to stare and see his reaction. He plops it in his mouth and cutely chews thoughtfully.

“Well?” You ask a bit hopeful.

Joel simply shrugs, almost bored, not even speaking on the taste or if he likes it.

But you do notice he reaches for another one.

In the quiet night, you and Joel simply sit enjoying this space together. You try to ask more about him and about his world. But the dry unamused look he gives his answer.

Joel instead is the one asking questions about where you live, what are you studying for, and one question that knocks you out surprised.

“Y’dont got a mate.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but you still almost choke on a sushi roll.

Stammering, you ask him what made him say that.

“Don’t have the mark humans wear that they’re taken.” Joel comments then moves to point to his ring finger where a wedding band would sit.

“Some couples don’t wear bands.” You argue back.

“Oh? Ya one of ‘em then?” He challenges.

Deflated, you mutter out a low no.

“Why?” Joel asks direct.

“Why what?”

“Why don’t ya have a mate?” He questions serious and his thick voice crawls over your skin.

You shrug, not knowing how to fully answer. Instead you half heartedly tell him you haven’t found anyone yet.

“Don’t sound like a good enough reason.” Joel replies.

Now you’re annoyed, even feel your face scrunch up at his casual tone.

“Why do you even care?” Your question comes out a bit sharper than expected.

Joel shrugs. “Just don’t make sense why a young thing like you is alone.”

Immediately you fire back that you’re not alone. You have friends and family that love you.

Now you stare at Joel hard and fully annoyed. His dark eyes scan your face while he stays composed, unable for you to read.

Your phone chimes with a text notification breaking the moment. You decide to call it a night. Joel is quiet when you move to leave.

The air hangs thick and tense. Internally, you try reasoning that you’re literally talking to a mythical being. This merman was bound to have a strange view of human customs.

You simply tell him good night and walk back.

Before you head inside, you turn around to the shore unable to stop yourself.

Joel very visibly is still in waves. His upper half floats among the obsidian sea with his dark eyes hyper focused on you. However once you spot him, let your eyes lock into his, the merman sinks into the water.

That night you dream of a man from the waves so handsome and real in your arms, but it feels as dangerous as a storm.

The following morning, instead of creatures fit for a seafood restaurant waiting, the most lovely shell sits on the sand.

“Oh that’s pretty.” Your mom even coos. It is.

Cherished and still in awe, you place the shell on your dresser.

Later that night you return to the beach again. This time time with a bag of chips.

Joel arrives hastily.

“The shell is lovely.” You tell him.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He answers simply, but his gaze stays eyeing the chip bag. Your heart warms even at his grumpy reply.

Opening the bag, Joel wrinkles his nose.

“Smells salty as hell.” He sneers.

“Says someone who lives in saltwater.” You snort munching on one of the chips.

“That’s sayin’ something if I say that shit is salty.” Joel huffs.

“They’re delicious.” You clarify holding out a chip to him. Joel’s face scrunches up even more, you laugh.

“What’s with all the sudden human food?”

You shrug. “Just a nice late night snack, thought we could share that’s all. Let you maybe just try more human food.”

With a cautious hard frown, Joel leans forward to the chips in your fingers and moves to bite it. In the process though his lips slide over your fingers.

His mouth is hot, wet. You even feel the brush of his tongue against your fingertips and try not reacting.

Joel makes a face as he chews, maybe not aware of what he just did. Your heart however rages fast and you ask if he liked it.

Now Joel’s eyes flicker to yours. You notice him swallow, notice how thick and bare his neck is and how you want to kiss it already.

He shrugs. You’re learning that’s a very common Joel answer and can’t push for more.

“Your mother. She seems nice.” He suddenly says.

You’re surprised he noticed her earlier out here. She’s been enjoying reading while you stayed inside enjoying a nice nap.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great.” You admit with a soft smile.

“Just you and her?” He presses and you agree happily.

“Where’s your father?”

You didn’t know you’d be discussing this with him. But you explain gently that your dad passed away when you were younger.

“Oh.” Joel’s voice pops a bit. “I… I apologize.”

You reassure him you’re alright. You were young, a child then, and appreciate his sympathy.

“Besides my mom always told me if I ever missed him, I just had to look up.” You tell Joel.

“What?” He asks and you turn your gaze up to the sky.

The stars are faintly out but so sweetly twinkling in the dark.

“My mom said my dad sits with the stars now, watching down and always shining bright to remind me he’s always with me, even when I can't see him.”

The words still warm you to this day.

Joel stays silent.

“And you? What’s your family like?” You ask returning your eyes back to earth, back to this son of the sea.

Joel continues to stay quiet. His focus now falls to the sand where you sit. You should’ve known he wouldn’t respond to something so personal.

“Got a brother, but he doesn’t live too close. He’s gotta pod of his own now.”

He has a brother. And they call their families pod. This information warms you, feels precious and rare.

“I had a pup.” Joel admits.

He had a child.

“Lost her many years ago.” He mutters soft.

Your heart shatters deep in your chest.

“Joel, I’m so incredibly sorry.” You tell him earnestly and sympathetic.

You gently ask him what her name was.

“Sarah.” A lovely name.

You glance back up at the sky. You don’t know anything about merfolk culture, how they honor those who have passed. But you can at least honor her the way you know how.

“Sarah is definitely up there too among the stars, watching over you.” You say reassuring.

The stars seem to twinkle back.

Again, Joel stays silent. You’re worried you might have stepped too far.

“Thank you.”

But in the soft breeze of the night, you almost miss his kind soft whisper of a reply back.

You and Joel sit in a soft silence for the rest of the night.

Waking up the next morning, from the view of your bedroom window, another shell sits on the beach.

This goes on for a little over a week. You sneak down to talk with Joel, even teach him how to play tic tac toe in the sand and discover he’s a sore loser.

Then beautiful trinkets arrive on the beach the following mornings.

Some were dazzling sea glass pieces you want to find a way to make into a necklace. Once he even left you a weather and a very old waterlogged broken compass.

You cherish it all.

But then one night, Joel doesn’t show. You wait, and wait. But no appearance of your merman. And no new seashell or trinket sits on the beach the morning after.

Again you head down to the beach at night. Still no sign of Joel.

You try not to get wrapped up in worry. But soon a week passes.

Now you’re worried, fully wondering what could have happened. You don’t even know where he lives to say you can simply go check on him. You feel a bit helpless, frustrated.

At the week’s end, your aunt wants to take you and your mom to a nice dinner in town. That night enjoying the nice meal, your eyes still drift to the view of the sea. Watching the soft waves, the dreamy sea, you simply hope Joel is okay.

When you get back, you head straight to bed and wonder if you’ll see your merman again.

In the morning, you almost don’t look out the window, like you’re trying to slowly detach yourself. But you do.

On the beach sits a new shell.

You practically fly out of the house and down to the shore.

Later that night, Joel this time rests on the edge of the water - waiting for you.

He’s never looked more beautiful in the moonlight.

You exhale relieved, welcoming him back. Joel’s eyes seem endless as he stares at you nodding

“Sorry, had some things I had to sort out.” He explains, even apologizes. You don’t even want to press why or get upset that he simply vanished.

He’s here and he’s alright. That’s what matters.

“I know it might be too personal, and you can tell me no,” you begin weakly. “But where do you live around here?”

You rationally explain it’s simply to see and make sure he’s alright. You even vow to keep it a secret.

“Worried about an old ass barnacle like me, lil’ minnow?” Teasing, he’s faintly teasing.

But you do worry about him. Even tell him that. Joel doesn’t reply for a moment.

“Tomorrow, come ‘ere early. And I’ll show ya.” His voice is as steady as a river.

You barely get any sleep that night. Before the sun even reaches over the horizon, with the sky faintly showing signs of waking up, you head down to the shore.

Joel already waits for you. He’s ethereal in the morning light. The soft cotton candy sky paints him in a delicate glow.

You walk along the shore while he stays in the ocean and you follow his lead. The guide of his fin from the waves would look menacing, the sign of a terrifying shark in the water. Yet you follow it without hesitation. Thankfully the pace is easy and you enjoy the fact that you simply have him by your side in his own way.

Slowly you walk further away from the familiar beach homes and down towards a more secluded part of the coastline. The houses begin to dwindle. Those still standing houses seem older in their style, rickety and abandoned.

Compared to your family’s beach home that sits further back on the land, these homes sit right above the water.

Weathered from their location, they seem like ghosts watching you. Eventually Joel leads you to a home that’s collapsed.

Halfway in the water, halfway in the sand, it is a cluster of debris and scattered remnants of a home

You watch Joel swim into it from the sea.

So this is where he stays. You find a small alcove to duck under and then step in. Surprisingly, the beach house had collapsed into a father cozy like alcove.

The echoes of the ocean softly swirl all around. When you glance out the opening, it gives a clear sight to the sea where Joel must freely swim in and out hidden by the cover of this remnant.

He’s made a home out of these hollow bones. He emerges out of the water, and his freshly slicked back hair has always made his face seem sharper. But here in the soft atmosphere he seems even more dreamy.

You earnestly thank him for showing this to you and even admire its coziness.

“Y’like it?” His voice is gruff as you continue taking in the space. Yet you feel eyes on you the entire time.

“I do.” You admit truthfully.

That’s when you spot the towel you gave him. It’s crinkled up in a ball, still covered in some dried blood. But he kept it. That reality gets logged in your throat.

You go to sit down on the sand and slide off the bag you brought. You didn’t know how long the trip was going to take and trying to add to the lie you told your family about going to search for sand dollars, you added the bag.

Now it proved handy as you pull out the box of assorted fruits you packed.

Feels like it’s been so long since Joel and you have done this.

Handing him an orange slice, he bites down on the whole thing not even letting you finish explaining not to eat the peel. You shriek a bit panicked, but he mumbles about you worrying too much.

“Well, someone’s gotta worry for you.” You huff back.

In this seemingly short yet expansive time you’ve known him it’s like you’ve become completely bonded to this strange man.

In very common Joel fashion, he settles into silence. Playfully taking an orange slice, you put it in your mouth then smile at Joel.

He snorts a faint type of laugh and it’s everything.

This time you also notice how close he rests on the sand next to you now, closer than he’s ever been before.

“Y’know…” Joel begins soft. “Never got to thank ya for savin’ me.”

His tender low rumble almost mixes in with the crash of the tide. You think of the blood stained towel still here.

“It’s okay. And you’re welcome. Plus I think we’re even now at this point.” You gently tease.

A deep hum comes.

“Ain’t like any human I’ve ever met.” He says even lower than before.

Something indescribable claws in you, and you glance at him. Joel is undeniably gorgeous, the most beautiful being you’ve ever seen.

His usual slicked back curls are starting to dry, highlighting their light fluff, and you ache to brush back some of his strands. However his intense gaze bores unflinchingly into yours. It’s like his eyes spark a fire in your chest burning everything in its wake.

Before anything can be said, Joel suddenly snaps up sharply glaring out to the sea.

“Need to get ya home, lil minnow. Gonna storm soon.”

The sky looked so clear on your walk here. Even now it doesn’t seem like a storm approaches. But you trust Joel. The minute you reach the beach house, thunder rolls in the distance.

Later, in the shower, your mind drifts to Joel. Your thoughts have been with him so much. But now they cross into a more sticky territory.

Joel resting beside you earlier was the first time you had ever seen him fully out of the water. Your eyes snuck as many glances as you could trying to commit the sight to memory.

You knew his golden skin bled into the color of his tail. But his tail, now that you fully saw it, was magnificent. Strong, sleek and sturdy, it speaks of how much power he holds as a son of the sea. Yet you can’t stop wondering where his reproductive organs were.

You knew he had a daughter but you also don’t know if maybe he adopted her. You didn’t want to ask about merfolk procreating, but your mind swirls with thoughts of it. Thoughts of something slippery slick, simply Joel’s, slithering in between your legs clouds your imagination and your throat goes dry.

You’re so caught up in those thoughts, you don’t even head down to the ocean that night.

Instead you dream of merman and the taste of saltwater on your lips.

-𖤓-

The beach is crowded today. You should’ve known the weekend would bring in more crowds. The amount of people must have deterred Joel away from leaving a gift.

You admit you were a little heartbroken when you didn’t see anything on the beach this morning, but you understood.

Now you sit peacefully in the water and search for more shells in the sand to add to your growing collection.

Eventually a soft beach ball gently bumps onto you.

“Sorry!” The splashes come, and off to the side are a pack of three frat boy like guys.

“Kinda got away from us.” One of them says bashfully.

“It’s okay.” You reassure.

“I like your swimsuit.” The guys smiles, and you thank him.

“You wanna come hang with us? You look lonely.” One of them asks then takes a swig of his beer.

Politely you decline, but thank them for the offer.

“Aww,” another says, swimming a bit closer. “C’mon. Gotta be better than just sitting here doing nothing.”

“I’m fine.” You kindly try to stay composed, but you already don’t care for how persistent they are.

“Man just leave her, she looks like a fuckin’ prude anyway.” One of them laughs, and your gut feels uneasy.

Fucking pieces of shit.

You don't even reply, not knowing what else they can do. Skin feeling tight, you want to get out of the water now, and hope they leave soon.

They snicker and laugh with each other, talking amongst themselves. It makes your skin crawl even more. Now you really decide to leave.

Suddenly a horrified scream comes.

It’s male, pierces through the air with pure agony.

You whip your gaze around and find blood spilling into the water. One of the guys that was just speaking to you is the one screaming, holding his leg swearing something attacked him. Another one of the guys then collapses into the sea as he screams. More blood colors the waves.

“There was something in the fucking god damn water!” One of them yells.

Off to the distance someone yells ‘shark!’ and terror fills you fast. The panicked commotion arrives. You frantically scan around.

The fin barely moves above the waves, but you catch a glimpse before it dips below the water.

From the shore, your mother screams your name begging you to get out. You return to land but are determined to find Joel.

“I’m gonna take a walk, clear my head.” You tell your mom.

“There’s a shark in the water! Just stay inside for the day.” She urges.

Promising you won’t get in the water you even reassure her you’ll have your phone on hand. With an apprehensive sigh, she nods.

You practically fly down the coastline.

Even in the middle of the day, no one pays you a second glance. Thankfully further down the beach the commotion trickles down until it’s just you and the sea. Approaching the decayed and vacant homes, this time they feel like guards keeping you safe.

Immediately you slide into Joel’s alcove. You’re not sure it was him, but something inside just whispers it was.

You discover a sight.

Joel sits halfway out of the water and snaps his face up to you. His eyes are what you notice first. Even with how dark they are, his pupils are now slits, reptilian like. Then when he spots you, they expand and dilate as his face crumbles.

He mutters out your name.

You spot his hands - now instead claws with faint traces of blood staining them.

Before you is an apex predator, a true hunter of the waters. And he’s glorious.

The blood seems to confirm it was him in the water. He attacked those guys.

“Go home!” He barks, a fierce growl.

“Did they hurt you?” You ask softly, approaching him with hesitant steps.

He repeats his words, roaring at you to leave, but you don’t. Even with how fierce and terrifying his voice rages, you move, almost possessed, to kneel on the sand beside him.

“Are you hurt?” You repeat again gently.

He pauses before barking out a quick no.

“You were in the water?” You question low.

“I…” you’ve never heard Joel hesitate like this. Your eyes stay on his claws.

A moment passes.

“Always try to swim nearby when y’get in the water.” Joel admits, like he doesn’t even register yet that he's speaking.

Your heart gets tangled in your throat.

“Normally I stay far away and deep enough, but those fucking boys… the things they said.” He snarls disgusted and vicious.

He attacked them because of you. That reality rearranges your soul.

You now gingerly reach down to the water and gingerly grab his hand. Reflectively he almost draws away.

“What’re y’doing?” He mutters sharp.

“There’s still blood.” You whisper back then start pouring water over his hands, cleaning him.

The emotions surging in you feel too deep and strong to describe, but they consume you. You rinse his hands, being cautious of the sharp edges, watching the water fade away the crimson more and more.

It’s quiet in the alcove. Just you, him, and the soft sound of the waves. When his hands are free of blood, you gather one in your grasp. His talons are sharp. He’s dangerous, and you adore him. You gently draw it up to your face.

He doesn’t stop you. You even worry this might be too much, possibly overstepping. But this feeling in your chest is so raw you can’t stop.

You lean into Joel’s palm and gently kiss the center of it as your eyes close.

“Thank you.” You speak, barely recognizing your soft voice.

Suddenly you’re jostled. Your eyes snap open petrified thinking he’s shoving you away. Only to find he’s instead swiftly pulling you closer.

You’re only allowed to process that in a blink before his lips crash into yours. You inhale sharp but eagerly scramble to grab onto him now.

He tastes like the sea, of something deep and ancient but beautifully Joel, and your mouth opens up to him wide and greedy.

You can tell he hasn’t kissed recently, or maybe kissing other merfolk is different, but he’s messy. Teeth clink and crash, but it’s fierce, truly him.

Like the surge of a wave Joel moves against you unleashed, and you draw him closer now moving to rest back against the sand.

Joel shifts moving over your body with a clumsy but earnest ease as he continues kissing you fervently.

Your hands run up his broad and strong shoulders while his hands, claws no more, now map your body out.

“So god damn soft.” He says hoarse and deep against your lips. Then Joel burrows his face against your neck and inhales.

“Smell s’good.” His voice trails off while his lips begin kissing and nipping against your skin.

Your body reacts, rising up to grind against him.

“Joel.” You whisper out his name and he growls. The vibrations of it rumble against your skin rattling your bones.

“Wanna mate ya.” He mutters low, as if smoke leaks into his voice. “Wanna make y’mine.”

“Please please please.” You beg him dizzy and clawing at him.

Joel licks at your skin, and your eyes close in bliss.

He’s a force, dizzying and consuming like the sea itself, and you happily fall under his current. Your swimsuit top is discarded and Joel makes quick work diving down your body to your bottoms.

Without warning he shoves his face into between your legs, flat against your pussy and inhales deep. The most powerful groan rattles the air and you whine.

“Wanna taste, want more.” He mutters possessed, clawing at your bottoms that you shimmy out of.

Now you squirm a bit self aware, very hyper aware, of how intently Joel pokes and strokes around your folds with eyes focused.

You even shift your legs hoping to close them when he growls.

“Don’t hide. S’mine.” The possessive nature leaking out of his voice makes you drip.

That first lick he takes against you, you almost come especially when he groans debauched.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, knew y’d taste so fuckin’ good.” Joel mumbles.

What he lacks in his full knowledge of your body, he makes up for that in how fervently he lets his tongue explore and dive into you. It drives you mad, and your hips trash trying to press into him more.

When you come, he moans loud.

Lips wet with your essence Joel crawls up your body in a daze kissing you as much as he can.

Now he grinds down into you and you feel a very new sensation, a hard bump against your core.

Joel draws back and you now fully see the new raised area against his front torso. His hand palms it, the same way a human would, and he hisses. You ache to touch him.

“Wanna make you feel good too.” You mutter.

Joel blinks back at you, still hazy in his dark eyes. But he leans down and bumps his head against yours soft.

“Starlight, y’sure you want this?” You sure you want me, is what you hear.

You nod and kiss him soft on the lips.

A part of you wanted to be afraid, to not face the growing desire for this creature of a man. But when Joel and you become one, it feels as if the world becomes whole. Like this is what it’s always meant to be, you and him.

Your legs sliding against his tail, his teeth biting into your neck with an aching promise wanting to break the skin, you discover a crescendo of passion like no other, a crashing of the land and sea.

He is yours, just as much as you as his.

Now curled against him on the sand, your merman keeps you in his arms tracing his fingers against your shoulder. Every inch of you feels sore but in a delicious way. You enjoy resting against his sturdy frame.

“You’re still so warm.” Joel mutters a bit in awe.

“And you feel nice and cool.” You smile wiggling closer to him even while being practically glued to his side.

“Can I ask…” you begin hesitantly, and he hums a rumble of a noise that sounds like he’s giving you the okay.

You ask him why he suddenly vanished for that week.

Joel sighs, dreary and deep.

“Didn’t wanna face how… close I was gettin’ to you.” The reveal makes your heart flutter.

Softly you rub against his solid chest then lean to kiss it.

“Glad you came back.” You tell him, and he simply nods.

However even in this soft afterglow, a small doubt trickles now in.

“Joel.”

“Hm?” He sounds as if he’s falling asleep against you.

“Is this… Are you sure this is okay?” You ask delicately.

Joel snorts.

“Yeah, s’okay.” He reassures you. “Been practically courting ya this entire time anyway.”

He says it almost casually, like if it’s an afterthought. Your mind however skips over itself.

You bolt up to look down at your merman still lounging on the sand. His face scrunches up pouting at the loss of your body next to his.

“Wait? Courting?!” Your voice shrills.

Joel rolls his eyes and tugs at your arm trying to get you back into his embrace.

“What do you mean courting?!” You continue sqwuaking.

“You sound like a seagull.” He deadpans. You swat at his shoulder urging him to please explain.

You even stare at him determined. An adorable almost bitterly bashful expression colors Joel’s handsome face. Those deep eyes of his dart away from your stern gaze.

“S’nothin’. Been takin’ care of you same way you’ve been takin’ care of me, that’s all.” He replies gruffly still seeming embarrassed.

Suddenly it all clicks.

A few semesters back you took an ecology course for a science credit. You faintly remember a lecture about how different species mating behaviors. Your professor even made a comparison of a man winning a game of billiards against another guy to establish himself as a strong opponent.

In essence, sometimes mating rituals were about proving you were a strong provider and protector.

Joel had been doing this all along. The way he protected you on the beach, the various seafood critters left on the beach, the way you also fed him, along with the beautiful seashells and trinkets he left -

It had all been his own way of showing his affection and intentions.

Your merman opens his mouth to say something, but you pounce on him quickly. You kiss him pouring in all your devotion you can, and Joel welcomes you greedily.

Eventually a text from your mom comes asking if you’re alright and it gently bursts the bubble you’ve been happily sheltered in. Begrudgingly you kiss Joel many times goodbye. He of course swims by your side the entire walk home.

Later that evening, you sneak back out to the shoreline and kiss your handsome myth of man so many times under the moon's watchful eye.

“So you’re mine?” You ask quietly among the crash of the waves.

Joel nods firm and steady. “Just like you’re mine.”

You float in a dreamy bliss and wish more than ever you don’t have to leave him for the night.

“Don’t worry, lil’ minnow.” He reassures you with one last soft kiss. “I’ll be in the water.”

It’s a promise, a vow, as true and beautifully ancient as the sea.

[caffeineandsociety]

There's a specific genre of shitty antisemitic joke that I have seen fly under the radar (as it was designed to) a LOT more often lately - especially since Kanye started going full mask-off nazi - so I feel the need to issue a warning about it. Namely, the genre is jokes that get spread around by people who aren't willfully antisemitic because outside of conspiracy brain rot land, it appears that the point of the joke is absurdism.

As an example, let's examine the 23-and-me lizard DNA test that I've sadly seen floating around unquestioned.

Because, see, to the average person who isn't willfully antisemitic, this genre of joke comes off as nonsequiturs, or hilarious mistakes - you, as a person with some level of basic observational and critical thinking skills, living on Earth and not in whatever batshit mirror dimension conspiracy theorists think we live in, might very well end up getting a giggle out of it because, HAH, we KNEW those DNA ancestry kits were a scam! If you're not a deliberate antisemite but not really up on the dogwhistles, it doesn't scan as anything awful because you're put in mind of things like feeding a photo of something decidedly not human into that one selfie-to-anime neural net, which sometimes works and produces interesting results because the thing is looking for specific patterns and trying to make anything fit - not things like blatantly lying about doing something like that in the hopes that normies who see the absurdity and want to have a laugh at a scummy company's expense will pass it along to people who unironically believe that Jewish people are actual literal lizard aliens and the test proves it.

This is the same strategy that guy at the game awards pulled. You, a person living in reality where the main source of political corruption is just the basic consequence of an economic system that makes power pool in the hands of anyone willing to exploit enough people, a world of banal mundane evil, know damned well that QAnon-pizzagate-satanic ritual abuse cult conspiracy bullshit is, well, bullshit, if you're even familiar with the details of what they believe at all. When someone crashes the stage and thanks Rabbi Bill Clinton, you may very well laugh because to YOU it is a blatant absurd nonsequitur.

Problem is that to someone else, someone who's deep into that shit, it's either someone letting the truth slip, or someone backing the deep state into a corner - whichever is more convenient to believe.

This is one form of how the far right uses memeification (CW: the example discussed in the link is a rape "joke") - it means something totally different to the in-group than it does to the out-group. To you, it's funny because it's nonsensical; to them, it's fun because they think they're onto something huge and they're about to blow this shit wide open and it's going to be their great moment of triumph.

I cannot stress enough that no matter how absurd an antisemitic conspiracy theory sounds to you, there are people who believe it, unironically. There are people who unironically believe that Jewish people are very literally not human and no amount of evidence to the contrary will ever change their minds. There are people who believe that we're born with horns and tails and pointed ears and have them surgically altered to fit in with good Christian humans like some kind of extremely high-stakes game of Among Us. There are people who believe that we steal, ritualistically abuse, and kill Christian babies. These beliefs, while fringe enough that, yeah, most of you who this post is aimed at have never heard them in the wild before very recently, are not nearly as fringe as you probably think they are. Just look at fucking Kanye. This asshole has more fans than there are Jewish people in the world.

So I'm begging you to please, bare minimum, be careful of "absurdist" jokes about Jewish people, especially if they reference lizards, money, banking, or government power. Also, you may see Jewish people debating how religious laws may apply to fictional creatures, but outside of that context you should also be wary of any time Jewish people are mentioned in the same sentence as vampires, dragons, goblins, zombies, fantasy demons, or any number of other fantasy creatures known for greed, feeding on humans, or both.

If the reason it seems funny to you is because you'd have to be really stupid to believe it's true or makes any kind of sense - it's probably looking for you to spread it to people who are, in fact, that stupid.

[updownlately]

‘cause all that you are (is all that i’ll ever need)

| alessia russo x reader | some angst and some fluff | 3.3k | inspo: kiss me by ed sheeran & tenerife sea by ed sheeran | a/n: so this req was a long time coming, thanks for your patience amigo! hope you like it! idk how to feel about this one but ima get this out for now and if i need to re-do it later then ill be more than happy to!

~~~

Late training sessions were definitely not on Alessia’s list of favourite things in the world, especially not when all she wanted to do was escape the rainy Manchester weather and cold. It was safe to say really, that if she could change any one thing about her football career, past, present, and future, she’d limit the number of evening practices, especially those on rainy days to near zero. 

Being soaking wet after a practice, the number of times she had fallen no doubt a contributing factor, the chill in the air seemed to send a continuous shiver in her bones, one that not even a shower post-practice could abolish. 

So albeit showered and freshened up, all the blonde really wanted to do at seven in the evening on a Tuesday was take a hot shower at home and curl up beside you; dinner, a movie, and unlimited cuddles the only things things on the cards for the night. 

But that plan required many things, one of which included you being free, something you likely weren’t. 

Caught up in all your coursework for your degree, you had recently been swamped with a never-ending to-do list, something which pained Alessia almost, if not more, as much as it pained you.

Entering your shared apartment, Alessia gently dropped her kit bag and paused for a brief second to try and decipher where you might be. Hearing nothing that would give any indication of your location, she kicked off her shoes before haphazardly placing them on the rack and heading in to find you.

With finals season upon you, you had been hiding away from Alessia to finish your work a lot more, conscious of how her mere presence distracted you, had you contemplating why you wanted to finish your degree this year when you could instead cuddle up with her on the couch and put on a show to watch. 

However, the tiredness of the day was finally catching up to her and the Gunner wanted nothing more than to find you and drape herself over you, cuddles galore, her heaven on earth. 

Quickly peering into the kitchen and then the dining area before checking the living room, Alessia wandered through the living space, not wanting to shout for you lest you be on a call of some sort. 

Walking towards your office/makeshift study space, she started to take her wet hair out of its bun, hoping that she could get you to agree to plait it for her as you normally would. 

Between rainy English weather and the nearly two years of you two dating, it had become a sort of ritual between the pair of you- countless nights of a dimly lit living room, a brush in your hands as you sat on the couch with the footballer on the floor between your legs, you working ever so carefully and gently to untangle and braid her wet hair into a somewhat manageable braid.

It had started when you had realized that Alessia would leave her soaked, post-shower hair in a messy bun until it would eventually dry eons later, making everything her head came in contact with during the meantime a damp mess.

After the fourth time you had to change out of a wet t-shirt post cuddling session, you had finally given up on trusting the striker to do her own hair, instead taking matters into your own hands. 

Since then, it had become normal for the Englishwoman to find you after most practices or games, silently taking seat between your legs or in front of you with a towel, brush, and blow-dryer in hand. 

So Alessia made a quick stop to your shared ensuite, grabbing the aforementioned items in a breeze before continuing on the remainder of her short walk to you office next door. 

Well aware that you may be on one of your numerous zoom calls with a course mate or advisor of some sort, the blonde knocked gently before slowly turning the handle and peeking her head inside. 

Eyes just barely adjusting to the dimly lit room, Alessia sighed, already being able to tell you had barely left your study space for a while, the countless dishes piled up on the table beside you a worrying sign.

Stepping in and choosing to make her presence known, the blonde walked over to where you were sat at your desk in the back corner of the room, eyes focused intently on the screen in front of you. 

“Hi…”

Coming to stop right beside you, your girlfriend teetered from one foot to the other nervously, waiting for a reaction.

You barely looked up from your monitor as you hummed in response, a disastrous number of tabs open on the screen and the laptop beside you, mind nearly as scattered. 

Wringing her hands, her voice came out soft, nearly a whisper, heart already tired from the long day she had. 

“Could you please plait my hair when you get the chance?”

Had you been paying attention to the blonde one your left, you would’ve taken in the tiredness in her eyes, the defeated weight on her shoulders, and the nervousness thrumming in her body as she fiddled with the hairbrush in her hand. 

But you weren’t.

Eyes not leaving the screen for a second as you took notes on your iPad without looking down, you inhaled sharply. 

If you had known better, you wouldn’t have reacted as you did. Would’ve separated your frustration with your paper from your love for the striker. 

You didn’t however. 

Instead, you let your frustration seep through, a gruff exhale escaping you. 

“Less I’m busy. Just do it yourself yeah?”

Not waiting for an answer, you continued with the task at hand, flipping between another website and copying and pasting text into your notes document. 

Beside you, Alessia quickly shut her eyes, straightening her back in an effort not to become upset at your sharp answer. 

She knew you were stressed, this degree something you had been working on tirelessly to achieve. She knew this frustration wasn’t aimed at you, more so at the tight deadline coming up, the need for perfection that you craved. So why did she feel like shit now?

Taking a deep breath, she figured it would be worth a shot to ask you about dinner, aware that you likely hadn’t eaten- your habit of hyper focusing a common obstacle when it came to taking care of yourself. 

“Before I go, do you want anything in particular for supper? I was thinki-”

“Anything’s fine. I’ll eat later. I really need to finish this up.” Your voice cut in, not bothering to wait for her to finish. 

Eyebrows furrowing at your interjection, Alessia’s shoulders deflated, well aware that any time spend together was likely off the table for the night. As if this night couldn’t possibly get worse. 

Sighing near silently, the Arsenal forward turned on her heels, making her way out of the room quickly as to not disturb you any further. 

It was only when she had fully made it out of the room, door shut firmly behind her, that Alessia let the weight of the day crash on her.

As a handful of silent tears of frustration came barrelling down her face, the striker made her way back into your shared bedroom, haphazardly throwing the items from her hands onto the bathroom counter before wiping away the tears and throwing her hair into a bun once more. 

Deciding that tonight was not a night where the blonde wanted to be cooking, at least not anymore, not since you very likely wouldn’t be joining her, she reached for her phone, eyes scanning the numerous apps through her blurred vision before finding the desired delivery app. 

Quickly ordering comfort food for herself and your usual order from the restaurant she had chosen (she wasn’t heartless, could never be towards you), the striker threw herself onto the bed, arms coming to wrap around her own midsection in a vain attempt to provide herself with some comfort. 

And when the ordered food finally arrived, bag somehow soaked from the pouring weather, the Englishwoman knew that the universe was playing a cruel joke on her, maybe even getting her back for jumping on Leah when she had been soaked after practice earlier. 

Clenching her jaw, Alessia quietly plated her food before taking a seat at the island, dim lights and the soft murmur of the world outside the only company for her on the lonesome night, the empty stool beside her mocking her as she ate, a pounding headache growing due to the bun she wore, food lukewarm, and heart alone.

What a lovely night…

~~~

You were proud of yourself. 

It had taken nearly a week but here you were, essay nearly done, on the brink of submission a handful of days early, qualification for graduation just a few clicks away. 

All that was left was to proofread it for the fourth time, you well aware that you were being nit-picky, the perfectionist in you making itself known. 

But that could wait. That could most definitely wait. Because all you wanted to do right now, aching neck, tired eyes, and growling stomach in tow, was to relax with your girl for a bit, a well deserved reward should you say yourself.

Pushing yourself away from your desk, your eyes flickered over to top corner of your monitor, a place you tended not to look often in an attempt to not intimidate yourself with the passing minutes. 

Now though? Now you wish you had looked at the clock earlier.

Cursing yourself for being so caught up in your own mind that you had tuned out the world most important to you, you hastily got up from your seat. 

The bright digits glared at you as quickly started cleaning up your desk- 9:47 pm- much much later than you had anticipated. 

Exiting out of now useless tabs and turning off what needed to be shut down, your quickly grabbed your mountain of dishes, precariously balancing them as you tucked your nearly dead phone into your pocket and scrambled towards the door.

Less couldn’t be asleep right? Not yet at least…surely?

You silently prayed that the blonde was still awake, the pattering of the rain outside and darkness filling the empty corners of the apartment as you made your way to the kitchen. 

The silence in the apartment was eerily haunting, a reminder- no- an indication of just how selfish you had been. 

Entering the threshold, your eyes fell on the sticky note left on the counter, space barely illuminated by the streetlights.

Gently placing your dishes in the sink, letting warm water run over them, you backtracked, picking up the yellow post-it and reading the message- once and then again, heart sinking at the unsaid words. 

‘Supper’s in the fridge. Went to bed early.’

The lack of words told you everything you needed to know. You had fucked up.

No 'I love you', no 'I'll be waiting for you', none of that. Just eight direct words, saying everything that Alessia didn't voice.

Swallowing hard, you contemplated your options, wondering whether it would be worth the risk to potentially upset Alessia more than you already had.

It wasn’t a secret to you that the blonde hated late practices, especially on days like today, where there were double practices, afternoon and evening. Add the pouring rain that had brought you comfort the past few hours, hours that Less had likely passed around waiting for you, hair no doubt a mess, a headache likely from the cold, stuff you usually helped her prevent post-practices, you knew you had messed up. 

In your blindside to free yourself up early, you had ignored the one you loved. Just fucking great.

Deciding then and there to make amends, you made your way to your shared bedroom, taking the gamble to see whether Alessia had fallen asleep or not, hoping you could rectify your earlier actions. 

This time, it was your turn to nervously enter the room, turning the knob nervously and slowly stepping in. 

In front of you lay the taller girl, frame looking small on the bed, her back facing you, the dark room doing nothing to help your uneasiness.

Stepping forward, you reached out, pulling up the covers on your side of the bed, you sliding in after.

Holding your breath, you strained to listen to Alessia’s breathing, trained in being able to identify whether the blonde was on the brink of sleep or not, years of being together aiding you immensely.

Finally exhaling when you realized the blonde was still awake, you took your chances.

Keeping your voice soft, you let it carry, the weight of your words hanging in the air. 

“I know you’re still awake…”

You could feel the mattress move before she did, the blonde shuffling further to her own side of the bed, nearly falling off the edge with how much space she left in the middle. 

“Less…”

Silence being your only response, you tried again. 

“I’m sorry for being an ass.” 

This time you heard a slight huff. Not the best response but a response in the least- a positive in your eye. You chose to continue, hoping you could dig yourself out of this hole.

“I’m sorry for being huge dickwad. You didn’t deserve me snapping at you like that.”

And as Alessia’s hoarse voice responded, your gut sank with guilt, jaw tensing.

“Just the snapping? I asked you about supper and whether you could take just a few- a few- minutes to plait my hair like always, and you got upset with me.”

“I know. I’m sorry, I really am. You were only trying to help and you were tired yourself and I was dumb.” Surging forward, you reached out tentatively, slowly placing your hand on Alessia’s shoulder, pulling her into you.

“You really were.”

Placing a kiss on the back of her head once she was close enough, you murmured against her scalp. “Can I make it up to you? Let me braid your hair?”

“That doesn’t excuse your behaviour…”

Nodding in agreeance, you let your arms wrap around the taller girl’s waist. “It doesn’t, but I’ll get there, I promise.”

Alessia sinking backwards into your grasp at your words gave you the answer you needed, you holding her for a few more minutes before quickly rising up and getting the items you needed.

Turning on a lamp as you returned, you settled behind the footballer, plugging in the hair drier and undoing the bird’s nest on your lover’s head. 

Silently working, you meticulously dried the blonde’s hair enough that her pillow wouldn’t get any more soaked, teasing out the kinks and knots gently before braiding her hair loosely.

Finally pleased with your work, you set the comb and hair drier aside, pulling Alessia back against your front and wrapping her up in your hold, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder and lingering for a second.

“I can’t promise I won’t be stupid again, but I can promise you that I’ll try my best to never do that again.”

“No more ignoring me no matter how busy you are alright? Just let me in your head…tell me your plans so that I’m not left here waiting for god knows how long, as you snap at me when I try to care…please?”

“I promise. Solemnly swear in fact.”

Feeling the blonde smile at your words, you let a grin take over your own face. 

“Now, I know you already ate, but would you fancy joining me for dinner? It could be our own little date? You, me, a little Love Island, and ton of cuddles?”

And as Alessia turned in your hold, burying her face into the crook of your neck, you kissed the her crown, holding her just a tad bit tighter. 

Only making a move to get up when your stomach grumbled loudly, you shot a sheepish smile to the angel in your arms before loosening your hold.

And as the pair of you exited the room, hand in hand, you made sure to grab the softest blanket you could, her comfort blanket, settling the striker on the couch before rushing into the kitchen to make yourself a plate of food, getting an extra helping, well aware that your girlfriend would munch with you.

Nearly sprinting back to the living room, food in hand, the pair of you got comfortable, the blonde resting her head on your shoulder, blanket wrapped around you both as the tv illuminated the living room, the rain now setting a comforting tone to the night.

Feeding the Gunner small bites as you ate your food, the two of you managed to finish off the plate quite quickly, setting it on the table before sinking together, a few more episodes, a handful of minute more spend cuddling.

Mindlessly tracing your fingers up her arm, you pulled the tired woman into you, body shuffling to lay across the couch, Alessia's head resting on your chest as the other girl whispered out little comments at every turn in the show.

It was only when you could finally feel the taller girl’s body growing heavier a bit more with each passing minute that you decided that it was a good time to head to bed.

Skimming your fingers up and down her spine, tracing the ridges of her back, you slowly, just barely, pulled Alessia out of her lethargic state, silently pulling her into a sitting position.

Moving to get up, you wrapped the blanket around her, ignoring her groans of protest at her own personal space heater walking away.

Convincing her you would only be a minute, you ran and put ur dishes away before coming back to usher a somewhat sleepy Less to your bedroom, the blonde slightly waking up a bit more at the movement.

Walking both yourself and your sleepy counterpart through brushing your teeth, you pulling silly faces randomly before splashing the taller girl with some water to tease her, you eventually managed to get the two of you back into bed, you on your back and the taller girl resting her head on your chest, sleepy yawns escaping her as she got comfortable once more.

Taking her now dry hair out of its braid, you loosely combed your fingers through it, nails scratching her scalp in a successful effort to soothe.

“Tell me about your day?” Your voice was quiet, just barely audible, not wanting to rouse the girl in your arms any further.

“Well my girlfriend was kind of an arse to me…”

Shaking your head as your chest rumbled with silent laughter, you gently hit Alessia’s shoulder. 

“I mean it...I wanna listen dork.”

And as the blonde recited her day to you, you could feel her breathing get heavier, the tiredness finally catching up to her.

Placing a gentle kiss on top of her head, you murmured another quiet apology as Alessia’s voice died down, you tightening your hold, mentally vowing never to let yourself get consumed by school or work so immensely ever again.

Unbeknown to you, the striker was just barely awake, her whispers of ’never again’ making her conscious state known. 

Agreeing, you repeated the words, whispering an I love you, the sentiment returned before Alessia’s breathing finally evened out, body completely relaxed in your hold. Finally letting yourself unwind, the tension from studying earlier totally seeping out of your body, you let a smile spread across your face.

Well aware this was all you really needed, you let the warmth spread through your body.

Here, your lover in your hold, silent breaths puffed against your neck, the weight of your love hanging comfortably in the air, you followed Alessia’s lead, letting sleep overcome you, everything that really mattered to you in this world, here, in your arms. 

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: It's become a ritual at this point for Simon to ask you to help with his eyepaint before a mission, but that might just be an excuse for him to hold you close before he must become 'Ghost' once more. OR Simon just needs some extra tender loving, and we're here to give that to him :)) Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader (No pronouns used!) Word Count: 1.0K words Warnings: None! Unless you're allergic to fluff I suppose :p Author's Note: I CANNOT get enough of this man, and this prompt came to me in a dream haha. It's just very very soft Simon, hope you enjoy!!

The sun sat low in the sky, painting the world in a soft golden light just outside the windows of your room. It was a shame you couldn’t admire it in its entirety, instead having to busy yourself with packing your gear for the upcoming mission with 141 in the next 3 hours.

Gloves, ammo, med kit… you mentally checked off in your head despite knowing that with how long you’ve been doing this, packing your kit was like stating the alphabet.

Zipping up the final pocket, the final run-through was interrupted by three short knocks on your door.

Making your way over, you open the door and are met with the hulking figure of Ghost himself, his regular black balaclava and intimidating skull mask replaced with a simpler skull one.

“Simon! Didn’t know you’d be coming by so soon,” you say with a smile, gesturing for him to come in. He does so without hesitation, only humming lowly in response.

He takes note of your outfit, still not yet in tactical gear. Fuzzy yellow socks paired with shorts and one of his sweaters. While you were by no means the tiniest person on the planet, his clothes never managed to make you look like anything but.

‘Cute’ he thought to himself. There was a reason your callsign was ‘Sol’ after all, with you being the bright light of the task force, a glow that rivalled the sun itself. It also meant you burn just as strongly, your proficiency on the battlefield was very proof of that.

He sits down on your bed as if it were his own, which, at this point it practically was. If you weren’t in his room then he was in yours.

You and Simon had been dating for years now, going on 4 years next month. You had both met even before the task force was created, when you were nothing more than a private and he was a Sergeant climbing through the ranks. It was a slow but steady path to get to where you both were now, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just look at the man, anyone would do the same.

“Pack all your things for the mission yet?” you ask, stepping into the space between his legs. He only grasped your hips and pulled you in closer.

“Yeah, though I am missing one thing, figured you could help me with it,” he says before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pot of black paint paired with a brush.

You only grin in response, taking them into your own hands.

“Always,” you reply.

It was practically a ritual now, every time you had a mission Simon would get you to do his eyepaint. It was a simple little task, but no less intimate. It served as a grounding before you headed into the heat of battle, allowed for a moment to simply be close, to exist in each others space before you both had to become ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’.

You situated yourself down on his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the warmth of his large hands seeping through your clothes.

Placing the paint down in your lap for a moment, you return your focus back to him.

“This okay?” you ask softly as your fingers brushed over the edge of his balaclava. Simon only nods slightly. While you couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t allow you to take it off, you still asked every time without fail. It was the least you could do, after all he’s been through.

Tugging off the mask you’re met with his beautiful face. As though crafted by the hands of the Gods himself he glowed in the light of the sun, stealing your breath away.

No matter how many times you’ve seen his face over the years, your reaction never changes.

Brushing your fingers over his face lightly, you pull him close for a tender kiss. No heat or passion, simply love, as though to say “I’m here, as are you. Us, together.” Pulling away, you smile as you look into his honeyed eyes, the love you held for him mirrored in his own.

“Let’s get to it, yeah?” you say.

“Let’s,” Simon murmurs quietly.

Opening up the pot of paint you get to work. No words are said between the two of you, and there didn’t need to be. Instead, you both bask in the comfortable silence and the presence of each other.

With gentle strokes, you apply the black paint, the first of many steps it takes to turn back into ‘Ghost’ when all he had to be was ‘Simon’ with you here on base. But that was the way your worlds worked, it was living two different lives. And while both were your true selves, they remained separate, neither persona belonging in the other’s world.

Methodically you tilt his head back and forth for even application across his eyes while he only relished in your soft touch, eyes closed in domestic bliss.

After a few minutes you were done, and you tapped his cheek with a finger playfully.

“Alright, all done big guy,” you say, but Simon doesn’t move to get up. He only opens his eyes momentarily before pulling you into a hug.

Pulling you as close as you could possibly get, his fingers tangled gently through your hair as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.

“Simon! You’ll smudge the face paint,” you said with a laugh, “and get it all over my neck. You have any idea how hard it is to get off?” you admonished teasingly, but Simon only shushed you softly.

“Just…let me do this for a moment, love,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. While Simon was sometimes a man of few words, when he spoke he was heard.

“Okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms around him as best you could before also tangling your fingers through his soft blond hair.

You both just sat there holding each other for a little while as the sun continued to set behind you. As the day transitioned into night, and before you both had to turn back into ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’ once more.

Tags: @bloodonmyhands-1221

[bellaxgiornata]

Borrowed Time |2: Helping the Devil|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Nurse!Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; heavy angst, hopeful but not happy ending, canon-typical violence, death

a/n: Because I've fallen for Matt and Reader in this series and I love their dynamic, I've altered a few things with this mini series--it now has a hopeful but still no happy ending (so it's a little less bleak). I've also tweaked the summary a little to fit better. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag List: @1988-fiend @danzer8705

Pushing your living room window up as far as it could go, the balmy heat of the evening seeped into your apartment, the humidity clinging to your skin. Taking a step back, you made room for the shadowy figure on your fire escape to slip through the opening, but when he emitted a soft groan of pain at the movement, you couldn’t resist shaking your head at him. Of course he needed your help again tonight.

“It is truly abnormal how fast you can scale a fire escape five floors up,” you greeted him. “Especially while injured.”

“Well maybe you're just slow,” he teased back. 

The masked man shot you a cheeky grin as he gradually righted himself. You noted how he was clearly favoring one side before he turned back around, shutting the window after himself and locking the heat back out of your apartment once more. 

You rolled your eyes at his back. “And maybe you're just a show off,” you countered.

He turned back towards you, one gloved hand reaching up and grabbing the edge of his mask. With ease he slipped it up and off of his head, revealing Matt's grinning face and sweat-dampened hair that was a mess on his head. He shot a wink in your direction that had you biting back a smile. 

“Only sometimes,” he replied, his face still flushed from exertion. “And only ever for you.”

“Right, well, how about you get cozy at your usual spot so I can patch you up, Casanova,” you said, gesturing over to the chair at your kitchen table. “I'm guessing that's why you're here.”

Without argument Matt made his way over towards his usual place at your dining table, hissing slightly as he lowered himself down onto the wooden chair. As he took a seat, you made your way into the kitchen, beginning to fill a glass with water at the sink for him. You knew full well that he needed it after running around Hell's Kitchen in this heat. 

Setting the glass down onto the countertop, you bent down and pulled out the above-average stocked first aid kit that you kept under your kitchen sink. You'd long since moved it from your bathroom vanity to here for easy access specifically because of Matt and his near constant need of medical attention.

Ever since he'd saved you from that speeding car nearly three months ago, Matt had been walking you home from the hospital whenever you had a shift unless he was otherwise occupied as the Devil. Usually you'd repay him for his time with some water and medical attention if he needed it before he slipped back out into the night. At this point the exchange between you both had become an almost nightly ritual now. 

But only a few weeks ago Matt had been so injured when he had showed up to walk you home that he'd finally had to lose the mask back at your apartment and reveal his face just so you could stitch his bleeding forehead. At that point, he had finally given you his real name–or at least, he said his real name was Matthew. You hadn't bothered to try and Google search the man after the fact, instead just trusting his word.

And that was how your weird and undefined relationship had formed with the masked vigilante, being the only one who apparently knew who his real identity actually was. Almost nightly he'd show up to walk you home from the hospital, having long since told you about his heightened senses which had made him aware of how terrified you always felt walking the streets alone at night. In return you helped keep him moderately healed and on his feet. Though it irritated you to no end with how often he'd show up the following night needing you to redo the same exact stitches you’d given him the night before which he’d gone and carelessly torn open.

But if you were being honest, you'd come to enjoy his company and the flirtatious, teasing banter he always brought with him. Even if you were exhausted at the end of a long and terrible shift, seeing him was always the highlight of your night when you left Metro-General. Truthfully having him either by your side or nearby as he walked you home always eased your fears, and you admittedly felt better knowing he wasn't bleeding out on the street somewhere because he couldn't get the medical attention he often desperately needed but so vehemently refused to receive.

“What was it this time?” you asked him, opening your kit and rifling through it on the kitchen counter. “Knife again? Or something more creative and equally likely to cause an infection?”

His amused chuckle broke on a groan. “Crowbar, actually,” he answered. “Edge of it cut me.”

“Mmm,” you hummed out, pulling out a few supplies from your bag. “That's a new one for you. I sure hope you're up to date on your tetanus shots.”

“Guess we'll find out,” he joked back. 

Your hands paused mid-gathering up of the supplies you'd pulled out of your bag, your gaze landing on him across the room. One of your brows quirked curiously up onto your forehead at him.

“You know, you should really be far more concerned about your well-being than you actually are,” you pointed out. “It’s a bit worrisome.”

Matt shrugged a shoulder lightly, pulling a face as he shook his head. “Eh, that's what I've got you for, right?” he teased.

Making your way over to the table towards him, some supplies cradled against your body with one arm and the glass of water in your other hand, you rolled your eyes at him once more. “You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?” you told him. Setting the supplies on the kitchen table when you reached it, you thrust the glass of water towards him. “Now tell me where it hurts and then drink this.”

Matt grinned cheekily back up at you, the dimple forming in his cheek as he reached a hand out to accept the glass of water. “You know I love it when you go all sexy, bossy nurse on me,” he told you. “Maybe I should buy you a little nurse costume to wear while you stitch me up. We could roleplay.”

“Pretty sure your mouth alone explains why you end up with so many stitches on a weekly basis,” you shot back, grinning. “Now seriously, tell me what I’m patching up this time and then drink that entire glass of water. I’m sure you’re dehydrated.”

You watched as he drew the glass towards his mouth, your eyes lingering on his lips as he took a drink from it. Truthfully the thought of doing more than just patching Matt up at night had crossed your mind more than once before. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t steadily been developing feelings for him as the weeks wore on. Though so far, the pair of you only flirted back and forth–but the flirtations had gradually been growing progressively more inappropriate.

“Managed to get me on my right side,” he told you, his tone turning serious. “Right here.”

He set the glass of water onto the kitchen table and then he shifted in his chair towards you. His hands began pulling up the hem of his shirt until he’d entirely pulled it up and over his head. He emitted a sharp hiss between his teeth before tossing the black shirt onto your table. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the bleeding wound more visible on his side without the fabric obstructing your view. You winced at the sight of it.

“Yeah, that definitely needs a few stitches,” you murmured. “Here,” you said, placing your hands on his bare shoulders before gently turning him in the chair to give you better access to the wound. “Stay like this so I can work. And drink your water.”

You knelt down onto the floor in front of him, grabbing a pair of rubber gloves from off your kitchen table and beginning to pull them on. Though his cheeky ‘yes, ma’am’ had you pausing for a moment, shooting him a pointed look that you were sure he could at least feel.

“Alright, alright,” he said, that typical charming smile on his face. “I’ll behave.”

Focusing back on his injury, you began to work on cleaning and disinfecting it in silence. Meanwhile Matt remained true to his word, keeping his mouth shut except for drinking down the glass of water you’d given him after he’d removed his gloves. 

It wasn’t until you were beginning to stitch up his side that you’d decided to break the silence, knowing he preferred the distraction of conversation to keep him from focusing on the pain. Which is something you'd long since discovered for yourself because Matt would never have admitted just how much it hurt to have a needle repeatedly digging in and out of his skin with those senses of his. But you could always tell he was in pain by the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, and the way he usually curled his fists along your kitchen table. All of the things he’d begun doing the moment the needle first broke through his skin.

“Do you ever think about fate?” you asked him.

Matt’s head shifted a little over his shoulder towards you, his dark brows furrowing together at your question. “Fate?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you said, intensely focused on the stitching your hands were doing. “You’re a man of faith, right? So, do you ever think about fate? Or destiny? God’s Will if you prefer,” you continued. “Have you ever thought about if it’s real or not? How it possibly affects the world around you? The consequences of your actions?”

There was a moment of silence that followed your words as you threaded the needle through his skin once more. You tried to ignore the way his body tensed again; if you became too sympathetic to him, there’d be no way you’d finish what needed to be done. 

“That’s a pretty deep question,” he pointed out. “Not usually the type of thing you ask me. What brought that up?”

You shrugged faintly, attention still focused on your hands. “Been on my mind often considering I work in a hospital,” you replied. “I see death a fair amount more than the average person. People who could have been saved if the situation was just a bit different. Plus, sometimes I find myself  wondering if…”

Voice trailing off, you shook your head. You hadn’t meant to spill that much truth, but your concentration on your stitching had caused your tongue to loosen.

“Sometimes you wonder what?” he prompted.

Lips pressing firmly together, you kept your mouth shut and continued threading the needle through his skin again. Matt shifted in his seat, turning towards you just a fraction. Immediately your hands paused, your eyes flying up to his face as you sent him an irritated glare.

“You damn well know you’re not supposed to be moving right now, Matthew,” you warned him. “Keep it up and I’ll be putting more holes through you tonight.”

“Is this about that car that almost hit you?” he asked, entirely ignoring your threat. “Is that what’s on your mind?”

Blowing out a rough breath, your focus shifted away from the obvious concern on his face and back down to the laceration on his side that was half-stitched up. “If I answer, will you stop moving?” you asked him. “Because I can't finish what I'm doing if you don't sit still.”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Fine,” you relented. “We lost someone who’d been emitted into the ER tonight that hadn’t been brought in fast enough. And it had me thinking about fate again,” you confessed, your hands returning to their work, “and how if someone would have gotten to that accident faster tonight, maybe they could have still been alive right now. Just like that car that would have hit and killed me a few months back. If you hadn’t been there at just the right time, picking up on my fear of something else before that moment had even happened, I probably wouldn't be here, either. And it–it gave me this weird feeling.”

“Weird feeling?” Matt pressed curiously.

“Yeah,” you answered, tone softening. 

Ever since that night he had saved you, you'd been having this strange feeling on and off. It had taken you quite a long time to even make sense of what it was that felt like it had been gnawing away at your insides. On and off it would randomly come back to you, once more having you question things like fate and the idea that things might possibly be predetermined.

“Like what if that was my time to go?” you thought aloud. “And I’m just…I don’t know, living on borrowed time or something now? Just waiting for fate to correct the error of how things occurred that night?”

Matt's head tilted curiously to the side. Out of your peripheral you saw his eyes narrowing, the crease between his brows further deepening. 

“Are you saying you don't think I was supposed to pull you out of the way of that car?” he asked incredulously. “That you were supposed to die that night?”

You shrugged a shoulder, continuing to work. “Maybe,” you answered. “How am I supposed to know if I was or not? Maybe you interfering threw off the balance of things or something.” You shrugged again. “I don’t know, but it’s often got me thinking. Which is why I was curious what you thought about fate. How much you think things in life are predetermined by God or whatever and how much you think we actually have control over. And what happens if things are…altered somehow?” you continued. “Does fate ever correct itself? Or is there an entirely new series of events that arise from a single change of just one?”

“Well, clearly I don't think you were meant to die,” he told you seriously.

Your hands stopped what they were doing as you glanced up at him. “But how would you know that?” you asked. 

With your hands paused, Matt turned further towards you in his chair. His own hands dropped down, both of them firmly grasping onto your wrists as he focused on you.

“You weren't supposed to die that night,” Matt stated. “You hear me? Whatever sort of question you have about that, you should just let it go. Because you're here now. Alive. Making a difference in the world. Saving lots of people–me included.”

Sighing, you focused back on the last stitch you had left to make. As if Matt knew you were wanting to finish, he released his hold on your wrists and allowed your hands to continue their work on his injured side. 

“I suppose if you hadn't saved me there'd be no one making sure your ass made it back home marginally in one piece most nights,” you joked. “But it was just a question. I'm certainly glad you were there that night, don’t get me wrong. But, you know, the average person doesn't often have near death experiences like you do on a nightly basis. It's just got me thinking, I guess.”

As you finished up his last stitch, you were aware that Matt had grown uncharacteristically quiet at what you'd said. 

“There,” you told him, pulling off your bloodied gloves while rising back up to your feet. “All done.”

Matt continued to sit there silently, his lips drawn into a thin line as his hardened gaze remained fixed near you. Beginning to feel uncomfortable at his unusual silence, you made your way back into the kitchen and headed over towards your garbage can. You tossed the bloody gloves into it, but as you'd begun to turn around, opening your mouth in order to change the topic, you were quickly cut short when Matt's strong arms encircled your waist from behind. Mouth immediately snapping shut, your brows rose up onto your forehead in surprise at the unexpected embrace.

“I'm glad I found you when I did that night,” he said, boldly drawing the back of you in towards the front of himself. “All the teasing aside, you've certainly made an impact on my life. And I don't just mean because of all the free medical attention.”

You laughed lightly just before he lowered his head, burying his face against the top of your shoulder. Your eyelids closed at the intimate contact, your breath coming in shallower. This wasn't a normal interaction between the pair of you and you found yourself enjoying the feel of him wrapped around you. He'd never held you like this before and you couldn't deny that it was drawing forth a reaction from you that you'd been trying to ignore for a while now.

“I think God put me in the right place that night,” he whispered. “That's what I think. I think you're here for a reason.”

Biting your lip, you fought the urge to ask him the question that immediately crossed your mind at his words. What happens when you've fulfilled that purpose? 

“But maybe we should talk about something less depressing and bleak,” he suggested. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, eyes reopening as your hands rested on top of his forearms. “It was just a question, though, Matt. I'm fine, I promise. You can do that lie detector thing on me if you don't believe me.”

He withdrew his face from your shoulder, a huff of laughter leaving him. “I think what I'm more curious about is why your heart is beating so fast right now,” he teased. 

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as your hands removed his arms from around your waist, effectively releasing his hold around you. Turning around to face him, you spotted the cocky smirk already on his mouth, though his eyes were very clearly focused on your chest as he continued to listen to your heart, and that only had it beating a bit faster–especially because he was still standing there without a shirt on. It didn’t matter that some of his blood was still smeared and dried along his torso, you couldn’t deny how good he always looked.

“I'm going to go ahead and say you already know the answer to that,” you told him. 

His smirk grew into a wide grin as his head cocked to the side, his eyes narrowing playfully at you. “Is it because you're attracted to me?” he teased. “Could that be why?”

“Oh gee, I wonder,” you teased back, your focus shifting to the supplies still spread out on your kitchen table. “Maybe I just can't resist your bloodied and battered muscular body and that smart mouth of yours,” you continued, taking a step past him and over towards the table so you could clean up the mess. “Or maybe it's your ass in general, though it–”

Matt's hand deftly caught onto your wrist and gently tugged you backwards towards him. The gesture had cut you off, your words left hanging unfinished in the air of your apartment as you stumbled back towards him. He was smiling at you now, the expression on his face having shifted to one of something soft and sweet instead of teasing. His other hand slipped down around your waist before he pulled you in flush to the front of himself, the warmth of him once more enveloping you. He lowered his forehead to rest against yours next and you felt your stomach excitedly lurch up into your throat. 

“I like you, too, angel,” he murmured gently. “I just…hadn't exactly figured out a way to tell you before.”

Breath hitching at his unexpected admission, your gaze shifted to his mouth. You found yourself tempted to lean up and press your lips to his, wanting to know how they felt instead of just daydreaming about them.

“Though I'd been wondering if you'd caught on with how often I walked you home at night yet,” he mused. “Or if you'd…even want me with what I do.”

“Well I haven’t exactly been able to get rid of you yet,” you attempted to joke, though your words came out a little breathless. “Suppose I don’t exactly plan on it anytime soon, either.”

“Mmm,” he hummed out.

His hand released your wrist before it slid its way slowly up your arm, gliding over your skin and drawing forth goosebumps beneath the pads of his fingers. Eventually his hand came to rest along the side of your neck, his fingertips landing just over your pulse point. Your heart was still pounding so hard even you could feel it. Your eyelids fluttered briefly beneath his touch, but you fought to keep them open.

“So is that a yes on the nurse costume?” he murmured, lips drawing back into a smirk.

You snorted out a surprised laugh, one hand lightly swatting his bare chest. “You’re ruining the moment, asshole,” you replied.

Matt chuckled softly, nodding his head against yours. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Let me fix that.”

He leaned in, finally closing the distance between you both as he kissed you. This time you let your eyelids close, your body melting into his as your arms carefully encircled his waist. The pair of you stayed wrapped around each other for a while in your kitchen, mouths connecting in a myriad of kisses that gradually began to grow more passionate. And for the first time in months, the feel of his lips on yours had your thoughts about fate temporarily managing to disappear.

[starry-pierrot]

Our Kits

Narinder hadn't expected his life to go this way but he can't say that having a pregnant spouse isn't something he's come to enjoy. He just hopes he can handle the responsibility. ------ Tw: Lamb fluff pregnancy, birth (Nothing graphic), mentions of fluids, cute newborns.

Characters: The Lamb(NB), Narinder, Bishops, Rose (my oc), Aym and Baal mention

------------ Woop woop! We got another one! This one is based off @doughyfluff 's super cute pregnant Lamb art. I for one an frothing at the mouth for their art and I couldn't help it! Dms are always open to screech at me Marz wink wonk. Anyway enjoy! EDIT: OOPS-Please keep in mind this is only based off someone's comics, it is not a direct storyline nor 100% canon on how they imaged things. Just for fun!

The sun poured in through the window as the night became morning, lighting up the room of the temple in a soft glow. Chirping birds making a fluffy ear twitch before a body in the shared bed began to shift and move. Lamb cracked open their eyes and as gently as they could they sat up and stretched with a yawn. 

Already they could feel their body being more tired than it usually would without the circumstances, but they needed to go and prepare for a ritual. They couldn’t just ignore their duties despite how large their belly had gotten. Some light toast and maybe a meat bowl sounded good, Heket probably has their special order at least prepared by now for breakfast. 

But before they could slip out of the bed Lamb felt warm arms slip around their middle and gently hold their stomach as a warm body leaned against them. “Good morning, mama,” the sound of Narinder's gravely voice sparking their heart to beat just a little faster and their cheeks to warm.

“Eeep! Narinder!” Lamb chuckled as they looked back at him, that third eye staring up to them with an adoration they weren’t ever sure they’d get used too. 

“You’re up early.” Narinder continued. 

“Well…I do have a ritual to prepare for. You know, being the leader and all.” At this Narinder’s face scrunched up in displeasure, usually he would be just fine with handling any cult business but lately he’s been quite more favorable to just stay in bed. 

“Don’t bother, it's a Holy Day.” Narinder moved with them as they stood up, his arms wrapping ever tighter around them. Kisses on their neck to tempt them to stay in bed. 

“You know I can’t do that.” Lamb tried to pull away to get away before they were trapped, a smile on their lips before another yawn took over. 

Suddenly their cat began to purr. “You are their god,” his hands began to run along their pregnant belly as the purrs only increased in volume, “and as your high priest I request a Holy Day.” His fingers rubbing little circles into their soft wool, “And as your husband I demand more bedtime.”

Lamb tried so hard to ignore him, tried to move away but those bastardly hands were keeping them right where he wanted them. Then a little nibble to their ear finally made them sigh and sag back against the warm body behind them. “Alright alright!” They laughed as they were gently dragged back into the bed, covers pulled over them. “I suppose another hour wouldn’t hurt.” 

Soon the two were back in a tangled web of limbs and pillows, Lamb quickly fell asleep but Narinder seemed to rather be enjoying just holding them. Looking at them as they breathed deeply, safe and warm in their bed. Looking down he could see the bump showing through the blankets and an ever more loving smile came across his face. 

Never had he thought he’d end up like this. The High Priest of his usurpers cult, his own brood on the way and he even had his family here with him. They were all so different from back then. Back when they had all hated each other. And he had the Lamb to thank for that. 

When he had first learned that the Lamb was pregnant he was excited! But also incredibly nervous to the point that he had asked Shamura for every single book they had on raising children. 

“I am to assume Lamb is with child?” Shamura had asked him, despite his injuries he seemed to be quite cognizant at times. 

Narinder of course didn’t expect Shamura to realize it so soon, feeling his cheeks heat under his fur. “....yes.” 

“Oh happy day.” 

Every night he had been reading at least one book before bed, Lamb had thought it was adorable and teased him little about it. 

But as time went on he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be ready enough for them. He of course did what he could and tried his best, through the morning sickness, crusade mood swings and even that first kick the Lamb felt. That had been one of the best days of his life. 

Though if he was honest with himself he was nervous. Scared. Could he raise his kits? Would he be a good parent? What if he did something wrong? All fears the lamb insisted were unfounded. He had to trust them right?

And as he began to feel his eyes droop he couldn’t help but think that at least Lamb would be with him. He wouldn’t be in this alone like with Aym and Baal.

He was in love. His family was back in his life. 

He wouldn’t be alone.  

—---

The weather was nice and cool as Narinder went to Mess Hall to pick up dinner for himself and the Lamb, they were getting much closer to their due date and he didn’t want them to walk if he could help it. A chuckle passed his lips thinking about how big they’ve gotten, it was a little comical with how small they were, often pouting about not being able to move as well as they used to. Narinder however thought it was adorable and took every chance to pepper that belly with kisses and purrs. 

Walking in he quickly slipped into the back, Heket was working on cleaning up and only gave him a glance in greeting. “Are these the ones?” he asked her. 

Heket gave a little sound of annoyance, “Yep…..how’s…lamb?” She asked while she washed the dishes, she had also been one to guess what was going on early. Considering the lamb had been taking more food , which had displeased her.  

“Annoyed about being in bed all day but doing fine. They have been requesting more meat bowls with those spices you like to save.” The Lamb had begged Narinder to ask Heket for more, though Heket usually liked to keep those special spices to herself. 

A huff as the frog rolled her eyes, “Only….because they’re…gravid.” She agreed, “I’ll make…some for…late night snacks.” Heket was amused at just how demanding the Lamb could be sometimes. Of course they were polite about it but even she could tell if she ever said ‘no’ there would be hell to pay. Not that she’d deprive a pregnant lamb of food. 

“Thank you, sister. You can just leave them here and I’ll pick them up later.” Narinder picked up the bowls and made his way back out the door, his tail giving her a short pat on her back on his way. It didn’t take him long to get to the temple, the large building quiet as he stepped inside. 

Though with his sensitive hearing he could hear what sounded like panting, the ear flicking as his brows scrunched a bit. Quickly moving up the stairs he gently pushed open the door that led to their bedroom, “Lamb, I’m back with the food. Heket said she’ll make you more of those spic-” he stopped. 

Lamb was sitting on the side of the bed, their legs spread and their tunic wet and dripping. They looked at him with a bit of a chuckle, “H-hey, Nari. Um…my-uh-my water broke.” Oh how they had the composure to look shy he would never know. 

“How long ago?” 

“Um-about an hour-ow!” Suddenly a wince had Narinder's fur puff out. Placing the food on the dresser he wasted no time in suddenly scooping the lamb up into their arms. 

“Wh-Narinder!” Lamb squeaked. 

“We’re going to the medbay. Now!” Oh he was not ready for this. Sure he’s read all the books he could find but actually being in this situation was not something he was mentally prepared for. What did the books say? It could take up to a couple of hours to a whole day for labor to actually begin to start but sometimes it could also start sooner than that. Before he knew it he was walking through the medbay tent, “Kallamar!’ 

The squid jumped at the shouting of his name, almost dropping a syringe, “Narinder how many times have I told you not to yell in the-oh dear.” The squid quickly put what he was doing down, telling an assistant of his to continue as he rushed over. “When did their water break?” 

“About an hour ago.” Narinder responded for them, Kallamar took a quick look over before bringing the both of them over to a bed to sit the lamb down on. 

“Any contractions?” Kallamar asked. 

“M-maybe? It uh-just feels like cramps.” Lamb answered. 

Kallamar hummed, “You might be having some Braxton Hicks. If it’s only been an hour it might be too early just yet.” Gently the squid felt around their abdomen, ignoring the slight hiss from Narinder, “Are they constant or coming and going?” 

“Coming and going…I uh-haven’t felt one since Narinder picked me up.” 

Pulling away Kallamar hummed once more, “Alright it seems you’re in the very early stages. You could stay here for now but I recommend getting a good walk in to maybe help it along.” 

“Wait, that's it?” Narinder asked as he looked at Kallamar confused. 

“That’s it for now. There's nothing we can do until they’re in active labor. It could take a couple of hours for their body to prepare. Just come back when you have constant cramps, but maybe don’t stray too far from the medical tent. I’ll alert my nurses to check in on you every once in a while.” Though the squid took one more look over the Lamb, “…maybe we should change them out of that soaked tunic first.” 

After a quick change of clothes Narinder and the Lamb were walking about the cult. With Narinder carrying them out in a soaked tunic earlier it didn’t take too long for word to get around that the Lambs child might be born soon. Though it seems the cult has a good mind to keep their distance for the time being. Leshy however-

“So whatya gonna name it?” the worm asked, “Better be something cool. Only a dork like Narinder would choose something lame.” 

“Leshy.” Narinder growled out, “I think Lamb would appreciate-” 

“He’d pick something like Nemo. Or Orion.”

Lamb couldn’t keep the smile off their face as Narinder just sighed, his hand rubbing their lower back. “We haven’t picked one yet. I want to meet them first.” 

“Going for the personality check then. Sweet. I call dibs on being the first uncle to hold them.” The worm’s leafs shook in excitement, “Gonna teach them all the cool diggin’ holes-” 

“You are not going to teach our child to be a menace like you.” Narinder cut in, ears folded back. Oh how he loved his sibling but if the kid turned out anything like him he was sure he’d be doomed as a parent. 

“You know damn well it would be boring without someone like me around here!” Leshy laughed, “Come on what kind of uncle would I be if I don’t teach them a little something!” 

Soon the two began their usual sibling bickering, not an actual fight but shouting and maybe a shove or two once the Lamb stepped away. Eventually Leshy left the two to go back to his own spouse, letting the two spend their time in peace. 

Several hours later they were back in the medbay, the contractions began to get closer and the Lamb was set up on the bed with Narinder behind them rubbing their lower back. For now they were left in a private room with frequent check-ins by either Kallamar or one of the nurses. 

“You’re doing great.” Narinder quietly said into Lamb’s ear, “You’re doing so good. Going to be the best parent.” 

“Narinder.” 

“You’ve been through worse. I hope they're a lamb. I mean I don’t care either way but I want to see a baby lamb-” 

“Narinder.”

“Just breathe and you’ll be fin-” 

“NARINDER!” Suddenly the crown’s power flares in a show of red magic, the Lamb’s horns growing just a bit more sharp as they look back at him with red eyes. “Sweetheart-”, oh fuck they were using their god voice, “You know I love you but if you keep talking I am going to kick you out and you will wait in the waiting room!”

Narinder stared at them for a moment before nodding, thoroughly quieted by the outburst of their spouse. The crown’s power dissipated and soon the lamb was groaning as they felt another contraction. Well if him talking wasn’t helping then he would do the next best thing. 

Leaning forward Narinder carefully placed his chin on the Lamb’s shoulder and began to purr, the Lamb sighing as they relaxed to the sound. 

Soon however it was obvious the time had come. The obstetrician, an alpaca named Rose, quickly prepared everyone. Originally Kallamar had been the one who wanted to help with the delivery but as soon as Narinder saw him put some gloves on-

“What are you doing?”

“Well I’m delivering the new family member! I couldn’t let just anyon-” 

“You touch them and I will cut off all of your tentacles.” 

Kallamar wanted to argue but seeing that expression on Narinder's face and the threat…well he had given into his cowardice and conceded. However he stuck close by making sure to at least be there in case something went wrong and he actually had to intervene despite Narinder’s threats. 

Leshy and their spouse, Shamura and Heket soon showed up after waiting outside as the contractions became less and less apart. 

Narinder had watched the lamb through all their hardships when they were his vessel, all the deaths, all the choices and how they handled the cult. He knew they could do this even if they were crying and squeezing his hand to the point of possible fracture. He could feel tears in his eyes but blinked them back.

“Push, my Lamb! I can see the head!” Rose encouraged, “Almost there!” 

Lamb cried out as they gave another push though weakened about halfway through it, huffing and puffing. “Fuuck-it hurts-” 

“I know, but you gotta push, you're almost done!” 

With another push Lamb cried out, this time trying with all their might. And then a wet sound and a cheerful cry, “You did it!” Quickly Rose carefully took the baby and gently began to clean it up, focusing on the face and nose until a shrill cry filled the room. She had barely wrapped the baby up before Narinder snatched the baby away from her. Gently of course. Kallamar kept his distance but was obviously excited to see the child by the way his tentacles anxiously fidgeted. 

Lamb couldn’t help but cry even more when they heard their baby, seeing them only made them sob out. Narinder just about cried out himself seeing that he had somehow managed to create life for once. Instead of taking the life of something he created life. “They’re beautiful…oh so beautiful.” Narinder leaned in to kiss their head, though that didn’t seem to deter the little one from making as much noise as they wanted. 

Not that either parent minded. 

“Agh!” Suddenly Lamb was curling up, their face scrunched up in pain as another contraction broke their attention away from their newborn. 

“Lamb?!” Narinder worriedly looked at them before looking at Rose and Kallamar, Rose quickly taking charge with a nervous Kallamar flanking her. 

After a moment her head popped up, “Oh shit-you’re gonna have to push for me again, my Lamb!” She instructed. 

“Again!?” Lamb, Narinder and Kallamar all asked out in surprise. 

“Someone’s getting a sibling!’ She happily told them, “Now push.” Lamb looked at Narinder in surprise before another contraction hit and they pushed, once more crying out. Soon another small body slipped out with a wet plop and just like before Rose was quick to act. 

The room soon was filled with two crying newborns. The second child was handed off to the lamb and Narinder just couldn’t help it anymore. A sob broke out of his throat as the tears he had been holding back finally began to stream down his face. 

“Oh Narinder…” Lamb mumbled as they saw their husband cry like a child because of his own children.

Discreetly Rose and Kallamar slipped out after a quick look to make sure there wasn’t a third, though she had to tug the squid along. 

Narinder hiccuped as he scrubbed at his eyes, but the tears kept coming, “T-twins…we ha-have twins!” It was awfully familiar to him as he once had to raise Aym and Baal on his own, though this time he hopes he does a better job. 

“N-no wonder I got so big…” A chuckle as they thumbed the little ones forehead, the newborn’s cries soon turning to hiccups. And once one began to calm down so did the other. 

“They're beautiful. I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful…not even as a god.” Narinder whispered as he carefully slipped into the cot next to Lamb. Using his right arm to wrap around their shoulders as they moved closer. “What should we name them?” 

Lamb took a good look at the two newborns, they both seemed to be a mix of themselves and Narinder. Though one seemed more cat-like and the other more sheep. One even had Narinder’s three eyes. “...you know I like the name Lilith.” 

“Lilith?” Narinder seemed to think about it in his head for a moment, “It is a lovely name. And maybe.. Dantalion for the other one?” He asked just before leaning in and kissing the newborn’s head. 

“I think that would be perfect. Perfect names for the perfect kits. Our kits.” An exhausted smile rested on the Lamb’s lips. 

“Our k-kits.” Another sob from Narinder made Lamb chuckle and lean over to give him a sweet kiss. 

“Our kits.” 

[musetember]

your generation has, like, zero attention span for epic tales

Questies! Welcome to Musetember, our prompt challenge during September based on the Ancient Greek muses and the ways their stories and themes can inspire fanfiction and art. 

We have nine different themed prompts and a special tenth - The Chorus - that invites you to participate through commenting or lists of recommendations.

Unfamiliar with the muses? We’ll take you on a journey through them all. Every muse inspires, but each has a domain that resonates with her the most. Write a story that embodies the muse who speaks to you most strongly, or write something inspired by each one in turn. You can interpret their domains as broadly or as literally as you like; the main thing is to create in whatever way feels best to you. 

Calliope invites you to tell us an epic tale. Whether it’s the final battle between good and evil on Andowyne or a re-telling of an ancient legend from the old gods and heroes of our world, this is your chance to go ageless and big. What’s an epic tale? Classically these were long works like The Odyssey, passed down in stories upon stories. Don’t have the attention span for a tale quite that epic in length? Maybe your tale is epic in scale or ambition, rather than word count.

Melpomene looks deep into your heart and asks you, what is the worst that could happen? The muse of tragedy, she has seen over and over again the ruinous and inescapable paths people create for themselves and the ones they love. How could Sorsha doom her daughter to a loveless marriage? When hope is lost, what survives?

Thalia is here to make you laugh. With her, it’s time to embrace the most ridiculous premises, the silliest goobers and the bawdiest jokes you can imagine. Really revel in the humorous side of Willow, a comedy of errors, even a vaudeville au - just don’t forget that happy ending. 

Erato - more like E-rated! Erato is the muse of erotica, so it’s time to get your smut on. Write a moment of intense passion, of aching desire, of the deepest, horniest bond imaginable. 

Clio is your invitation to look into the past. As the muse of history, she’ll be with you whether you’re exploring the story of the first six fey to be cast out of the Grove, or if you’re deep in the research for a historical au in our world. 

Polyhymnia welcomes you to explore religion and ritual. Speak to us of the Order of the Wyrm, of beliefs that shape the lives of the Bone Reavers… or of Catholic schoolgirls just trying to catch a moment together. 

Euterpe sings. The stage is set and the orchestra is waiting - it’s time to celebrate music. Embrace the inspiration found in song lyrics, in band dynamics, in a brand new video edit, or ask yourself: does Kit really know how to play those instruments in her room?

Terpsichore extends her hand to draw you into a dance. From sexy grinding in a modern au to an aching slow dance in the rain, dance can be about self-expression or tight, rigid control. 

Urania looks far beyond this world and draws your attention to the stars, to the two moons lighting up the sky. The muse of astronomy is as present in the far reaches of the galaxy in a sci-fi au as she is in the constellation of Jade’s freckles.

Finally, we come to the Chorus. In Ancient Greek works, the Chorus often represents a voice speaking to or with the audience, a bridge between the world of the story and the world outside it. The Chorus is vital. Without their commentary, something important is lost from a story. Those who comment on fanfiction as just as important - you readers are part of this challenge too! Tell the writers what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. Leave a comment on a favourite story that fits the thematic domain of each muse. Write up a rec list for your favourite muse, and share your favourites so that others can discover them and dive in.

Rules and some specific writing challenges below the read more!

Writing Challenges: 

Still needing more inspiration? There are different ways you can approach this. You can write whatever style your heart wants, or you could try your hand at one of these challenges that interpret the muses’ calls in different ways. 

The Fragment Challenge Write a drabble of 100 words, or write multiple drabbles as if they were glimpses into the same story with missing pieces in between. For artists, share a fragment of a work in progress - anything unfinished!

The Epistolary Challenge Write in the form of letters, a diary, newspaper clippings, social media posts… Or how about Nockmaar’s trip advisor?

The Lost Scene Challenge Write or draw a scene we missed out on in canon, or a scene that gives the impression it is part of a longer, unwritten fic.

All of these give you a fun way to explore the things you choose not to tell the audience, and play off the Ancient Greek theme that our muses inspire. 

Rules/FAQ

How long does the challenge last?

From September 1, 2024 until Oct 6, 2024.

How do I share my cool stuff?

If it's a fanwork appropriate for AO3, we'd love it if you added it to the challenge AO3 collection, which will be open until the challenge ends!

What pairings apply? Is this just Tanthamore?

This challenge is open to all Willow fanworks! You can create things for any prompt with any character or characters from Willow, you can write different pairings, you can do whatever you want forever. Just make sure that your fics are tagged appropriately!

Can my work be any rating?

Yes absolutely! Write the most E-rated thing your little heart desires, just tag it as such so readers can decide for themselves what they'd like to engage with.

Can it be any length?

Sure! There is no minimum or maximum word limit.

Does it have to be based in Willow canon?

Nope - it can be canon, canon-divergent, or any kind of AU you would like to write!

Does it have to be finished?

Nope, not at all. If one of the prompts inspires you to start a long fic, you are still totally welcome to add it to the collection during September and carry on working on it after the challenge is over.

[acre-of-wheat]

Since there’s an 85% chance I’m thinking about Willow at any given time, I have some more Willow thoughts.

Mainly, why does no one check in with Kit about her brother?

I know that the purpose of The Quest shifts with the discovery of Elora, but it's still ostensibly about saving Airk, and his twin is right there, consumed with worry and guilt about the whole thing, and every time she expresses it she's treated like she's throwing a tantrum.

The Gales

There's tremendous guilt here, where Kit has said something rash and now regrets it, a common theme for her. The apology here is fascinating, because what exactly is she apologizing for? Not protecting her brother? Not being the one taken? Not cherishing her family enough? For behaving badly? Whatever it is, it hurts the heart.

The High Aldwin

As soon as Kit sees the clusterfuck that is the finger test and watches Elora "fail" it, she's out the door, insistent on continuing The Quest because now that Willow has given them a direction she won't let anything stop her. She'll go alone if she has to.

The rest of the party catches up (Kit didn't really want to go alone, or at least not without Jade) and suddenly they have an extremely slow wagon and they've added several members to the party and are taking breaks in the middle of the day for magic lessons-- all things that will slow them down considerably.

As an aside, because this could really be its own whole post, I feel like one of the roots of disconnect between Kit and Jade is that Jade has never taken Kit seriously. Not as a swordsman or adventurer, not as a princess or leader, not even as a real potential love interest. It's not until the edge of the Shattered Sea where Jade finally tells Kit that she'll trust Kit's judgment and doesn't drag her away from the waterfall jump that she learns to have faith. If part of Kit's journey is about learning to believe in Elora, part of Jade's journey is learning to believe in Kit.

The Whispers of Nockmaar

With the knowledge they have at the time, Kit makes the realistic call about Graydon, one that Jade and Boorman agree with (of course not in the moment, don't get me started on that...) and her reasoning remains her brother-- they don't have time to wait for Graydon to turn, to keep him chained up and drag him with, and to inevitably get shanked by him. They've just watched several allies be killed by possessed people, and so far Willow hasn't given them any reason to hope that it can be reversed.

Even with Willow's dodgy faith in the purgation ritual, Kit does throw herself into the process. Then they get partway through and start to hear Airk's voice and Kit loses it.

She fully books it out of the throne room, because this is legit awful.

When Elora goes out to the hallway after her own emotional moment, the two share an aggressive greeting that Kit immediately backs off from.

It should be mentioned that the conversation shifts to Elora's fears about things, and Kit is about to tell her about the eckleberry bush before Elora bounces.

Beyond the Shattered Sea

There's a lot going on in this episode, internally with Kit and externally in her relationship with Elora. They hear the old paladin of Cashmere's story about wandering the Shattered Sea for years and eventually murdering all his companions and Elora says that it doesn't matter, they'll find the city. To Kit this must look like more baseless faith-- faith she hasn't yet learned to have in Elora.

She's just lost her dad again, lost a substitute father figure, the other father figure she has on The Quest has betrayed her trust, and she's desperate to not lose Airk too. She is still deeply conscious of how little time they have, how little time her twin has.

It should be mentioned that they are too late when they reach the Immemorial City! Airk has been corrupted, Kit might have needed to kill him in order to save Elora, they did fail in a meaningful way!

I know we're limited by episode length, and how everyone in the party is perpetually semi-annoyed by Kit, but Kit actually checks in with the party quite a bit! She has a moment with Graydon where she apologizes and gets to know him, she checks in with Jade after Ballantine's death, asks Jade how she's feeling about the whole Bone Reaver family thing, she has three conversations with Elora where the focus is on giving her confidence in herself, she checks in on Willow's emotional health for god's sake.

I just desperately wanted someone to pull this kid aside and say "hey, you good?"

Because she's definitely not.

[gluedwithgold]

Agent of Chaos AU lineup Pt 2: Court of The Red Crown (Pt 1)

I've gotten a few asks about Nari and what his cult looks like in this AU so here is another lore and character post!! I have changed a lot about Nari's cult and domain for this au so I hope yall think it's interesting!

Narinder's domain is life and death but he himself is the God of Judgment. When a person (creature?) dies, their soul/whatever you wanna call it joins Nari in the afterlife. Once a soul has entered his domain, he judges what life they lead and how their future in the afterlife will be like. Will they be reincarnated? Tortured? Pampered? It all depends on how Narinder chooses to judge someone... And it strongly depends how he's feeling that day...

Narinder's cult is a melting post of the souls from dead followers all across the old faith. And Nari does get very pissed when his siblings decided to randomly resurrect followers without telling him. Or when mass amounts of followers from the same cult die, then he gives his siblings an earful about how bad of a job they are doing.

Aym and Baal pretty much have the same backstory as in the canon. They were gifted to Nari and are his right and left hand cats who are like sons to Nari (Not that he would ever admit that! He's too proud to admit he has genuine love for these two kits).

The Fox is in fact a follower of Nari and it is Fox's job to collect the souls of the dead and bring them to Nari. Thats all I can really say about Fox rn.

There are cults in the living world who worship Narinder. There are shrines made for the god of death and rituals similar to how ancient Egyptians burring people with items, food, money, and basically here these funeral rituals are meant to have the dead come to the afterlife with these items as offerings for the god in exchange for a better afterlife.

I hope all of this makes sense! Apologies if this is all disjointed ramblings!

Edit: Forgot the mention this but Leshy bit Nari's arm off during the big fight™️ and it can't regenerate back. In this Au only gods can permanently damage other gods, if a mortal chopped off Nari's arm would grow back in seconds, but since it was Leshy, god of chaos, that arm is gone...

Character lineups:

Cult of Chaos Pt 1

Court of The Red Crown Pt 1 (here)

Court of The Red Crown Pt 2

[ladymariayuri]

Ok so first you're gonna need Krastinov's Bag of Horrors and then you're gonna use it by Eva Sarkhoff's ghost in Scholomance which will scare her and then you're gonna click the toy off which will make her realize you're not her murderer and then she will give you an essence you have to repair with old world reagents and then you can find her bones on the ground and then you have to get 5 candles from the other ghosts which requires googling honestly and Eva's journal and then take the bones the journal and the candle and then go to the door opposing the entrance of scholomance and go upstairs and perform the ritual. Now you can enter old scholomance- no youre not done- and now what you have to do is go to Rattlegore's room and find a bone pile with a clickable item in it for the cracked argent dawn commission, which you then need to repair with old world reagents again, and then you go to old scholomance again and you kill darkmaster gandling, and he will drop a scourgestone which will enable mobs in the plaguelands to drop scourgestones like all those years ago, and now you have to go to Stratholme, specifically the Live wing, and find an Eye of Naxxramas wandering around, and use the wards they drop to get Truesight for 2 minutes, and you want to make sure you looted holy water beforehand from the crates, and then you wanna go to the left of the crusaders cathedral and throw a holy water in the portal that opens, and now you have to be REALLY fast , because you have a 5 minute timer to go all the way to Rivendare and kill him and then go through the left gate outside that only opens when he dies, and then use your argent dawn commission to burn the Hand of Naxxramas to a crisp, and then go to lights hope chapel and talk to Angela Dosantos, and she will give you a quest to unlock Old Naxxramas, which will cost different things depending on your reputation with the argent dawn, and then you want to go into Old Naxxramas and, by the way you need to know how to fish, and you wanna make a makeshift grappling hook by killing grand widow faerlina and getting her sewing kit, then a construct hook from the construct quarter, then fish from any slime river to get Abombination chain, and then combine them all into a grappling hook, and then you want to just casually scale Naxxramas like a fucking spider monkey, specifically in Thaddius's room to find the corpse of a goblin which you will then need to resurrect via Holy Water, and then you need to give him a bunch of scourgestones and dark runes and a black coffee, because he's mad at you, and then he will start selling stuff to you, and then you need to buy Rotten Delicious treat from him and go to the Military Quarter- did I mention you can't kill Instructor Razuvius up to that point- and make sure you're on 10 man mode, and go to the horse in the corner and feed it the apple, but it won't let you ride it, so you have to use the obedience crystals on the side to mind control the understudy adds next to Razuvius, and then make one ride the horse, and then kill Razuvius and the understudy, and now you have your brand new ugly ass horse mount

[tycarstairs]

ready to fight for my life for ty blackthorn when twp is released because the way people are already infantilizing and patronizing him bc he’s autistic is so….

no one asked for this but i’ve seen a lot of people have weird takes on his autism so as an autistic woman i need to clear some things up ok 😭 so buckle up, this is gonna be a long one (seriously, it’s long)

the main arguments i’ve seen are: (i’m paraphrasing here btw)

“ty didn’t cry when livvy died but he did cry when kit said he wished he’d never known him so it’s clear that he does love kit.”

and

“ty clearly loves kit because he cried when they argued and it’s hard for autistic people to cry.”

and

“ty gets on my nerves because he didn’t react at all when kit told him he loved him”

like. i do get what you’re saying (with the first one. not the second one, that’s a stereotype, and also not the third one bc that’s just weird), because it does show that ty cares but like. obviously? all his actions before that showed that he cared too.

saying “he cried when him and kit fought but not when livvy died” just comes off as acting like he’s more upset about kit leaving and insulting him than he is about kit dying and that just rubs me the wrong way.

i know this is not common knowledge but autistic people often have delayed processing, especially when we’re grieving because it can be so overstimulating and even when we do grieve, it’s not gonna look the same as when an allistic person grieves.

so, delayed processing:

delayed processing in autism is where you are recording/aknowledge events as they happen, however that information is stored elsewhere in the brain and isn't taken in.

once the brain is ready or has capacity the information is suddenly taken in. this could be hours, weeks, days or even months later.

an example (from justkeepstimming_ on instagram):

An autistic person whose mother died at quite a young age. At the time, when his father was grieving, it did not appear the autistic son was upset.

However, one year after his mother's death, he suddenly processed that she was gone (permanently) and only then started the grieving process.

that example is pretty much exactly what happened with ty in qoaad.

partly, ty didn’t cry when livvy died because he didn’t accept that she was dead. he was so sure that he was gonna bring her back and for a long time, he probably didn’t even consider the fact that he might fail.

after livvy dies, kit says this:

“Everyone had been terrified. Ty would fall apart, they’d thought. Kit remembered Julian standing over Ty as he slept, one hand stroking his brother’s hair, and he’d been praying—Kit didn’t even know Shadowhunters prayed, but Julian definitely had been. Ty would crumble in a world without his sister, they’d all thought; he’d fall away to ashes just like Livvy’s body.”

if ty were allistic, he probably would have reacted like this immediately. and he does react like this eventually when his brain fully processes that the ritual didn’t work, that livvy is actually not coming back:

“Livvy!” Ty didn’t scream the word so much as it was ripped from him; he curled up, hugging himself, as if desperate to keep his body from shattering apart.”

this is when ty actually processes that his sister is gone. so saying, “ty didn’t cry when his sister died but he cried when him and kit fought” as if it’s some really romantic thing that he was sadder about kit leaving than livvy dying (which is not true) is just iffy because it’s such a stereotype and a misconception that autistic people don’t seem to care at all when people die, and way too many people from this fandom are feeding into that so much.

and ty does show is grieving throughout qoaad but because it’s not in the allistic way, a lot of readers don’t recognize it.

(i was actually so positively surprised to see that cassandra clare, an allistic woman, wrote the grieving process for an autistic character—and everything else about being autistic tbh—so well but it gives me so much hope for twp)

for example, autistic people (this is obviously not all autistic people as all autistic people are different but i'm just listing the signs i've seen in ty in qoaad) when they're grieving might show their grief gradually in more subtle ways by hurting themselves, emotionally or physically, which ty does do:

"The only person he was unkind to, Kit thought, was himself."

and we also see in gotsm that ty is continuously punishing himself because he is still grieving. livvy is simultaneously there and dead, and ty has to live with both the grief of her death and the guilt of her being stuck as a ghost.

there's also the fact that kit observes that ty starts keeping secrets and doing things alone, which is also common when trying to process emotions that haven’t fully caught up yet:

“In the past days, though, since Julian and Emma had woken up, Ty had been harder to find. If he was working on something, he hadn’t included Kit in it—a thought that hurt with surprising intensity.”

like. ty is pulling away because he is trying to process everything that’s happening. him excluding kit is very likely a symptom of some kind of delayed grief because it’s very unlike him to exclude kit from anything, as we can see when he says multiple times outright that he doesn’t want to do things without kit.

just because it’s more subtle than breaking down into tears doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel it at all. it’s more likely that he simply feels too much and is shutting down because of it.

and of course his grief is gonna be subtle when he hasn’t even accepted and processed the fact that she’s dead yet.

and yes, he cried when kit told him he wished he’d never met him but that is so different because there was no room for denial. kit told him that word for word, the processing wasn’t delayed this time because there wasn’t really that much to process.

ty truly believed right away that his only friend wished he had never known him, and when livvy died he didn’t accept that she was dead. those things are different and pitting them against each other is weird.

so, onto the second argument/misconception i’ve seen that:

“ty clearly loves kit because he cried when they argued and it’s hard for autistic people to cry.”

this is a misconception stemming from the stereotype that autistic people are emotionless. yes, some autistic people might have a harder time crying because of shutdowns etc. but generalizing it to it’s hard for autistic people to cry is just wrong, especially because this has never been implied about ty in the text.

in fact, it’s the opposite:

“Ty heard everything twice as loud and fast as everyone else. The headphones and the music, Kit sensed, were a buffer: They deadened not just other noises, but also feelings that would otherwise be too intense. They protected him from hurt.

He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live so intensely, to feel things so much, to have the world sway into and out of too-bright colors and too-bright noises. When every sound and feeling was jacked up to eleven, it only made sense to calm yourself by concentrating all your energy on something small that you could master—a mass of pipe cleaners to unravel, the pebbled surface of a glass between your fingers.”

so implying that it’s harder for ty to either cry or feel sad is just wrong. kit notes that “every sound and feeling was jacked up to eleven”, and this includes ty’s grief. him not crying when livvy died has nothing to do with how much he may or may not be feeling and everything to do with how delayed his processing was.

and the third complaint of ty is frustrating because he didn’t react when kit told him he loved him.

first of all, i don’t know if it’s my autistic ass not understanding allistic people but is it not normal to be in shock when someone tells you they love you in the middle of a necromancy ritual???

and second of all, this scene from city of heavenly fire where julian says “i know it’s hard to understand, ty, but we love you” like it’s supposed to explain their actions and ty reacts like this:

Ty looked at him blankly. He knew what “I love you” meant, and he knew it was good, but he didn’t understand why it was an explanation for anything.”

ty looking at kit blankly in surprise in qoaad is not him “not reacting”, it’s him trying to process 1) what that has to do with anything and 2) why that would be an explanation or an argument as to why ty should stop the ritual.

(it is probably also partly because ty thought kit had feelings for livvy at this point but that’s just speculation so i won’t get into it now)

to kit, this was probably his way of saying that because he loves him, ty can stop the ritual and kit will help him with the aftermath.

to ty, kit’s confession made no sense in that moment because why would kit loving him mean that he should stop the ritual? and this was most likely also the moment when his grief was really starting to kick in, so that just adds to it.

yeah idk if anyone made it to the end but as you can tell, i have a lot to say and i’m tired of people romanticizing ty’s grief.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

The Goddess

Note: requested by @foxyanon! I really hope I did justice to your idea.

Warnings: 18+! smut, primal play, sex magick, knife play, blood.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: you and Sihtric did a new ritual together.

wordcount: 2,2k

Masterlist

You and Sihtric simply couldn't get enough of each other. You had just moved into your first home together. The furniture was scattered all through the apartment, as were unpacked and half unpacked boxes. The only room that was completely finished was the bedroom. The walls were painted a pleasant colour of green, while the cabinets and decorations were a mix of golden and rose. The colours represent the goddess you both honoured, Freyja, for whom you also had made a little altar in the corner of the bedroom. You and Sihtric had done rituals together to honour the goddess and to ask for her help, and with her help you had managed to successfully obtain the wonderful apartment you now called home. So when you told Sihtric a ritual was in place to thank the goddess, and also to ask her to bless your relationship in this new phase of your lives, he immediately was onboard. And it wouldn't be just any ritual, no, it would be the first time you performed sex magick together.

The bedroom was smoke cleansed earlier that day, and now incense burned and the scent of amber spread in the air. Flower petals were scattered on the floor and candles were lit in safe places. All the lights were switched off, your new home was completely dark, apart from the several burning candles that were safely placed in every apartment room. You and Sihtric had both taken a cleansing shower, separately, before you met again for the ritual in the darkened bedroom. You were dressed in a silky white, short nightgown while Sihtric was wearing just his grey sweatpants, comfortable and light clothing were important because you had to feel at ease and not restricted.

Sihtric's dark, shoulder length hair was still damp and pushed behind his ears. The scars on his face, arms and torso were visible as the candles casted a faint and romantic glow. Your almost dried hair was tied back into a bun and you were both barefoot as you sat on a large blanket made of black feathers, which you had spread out on the wooden bedroom floor. Next to you, on the feathery blanket, was a round wooden plate on which an athame was placed. The silver double edged dagger had a black handle and runes carved into the blade, and it was purely used to draw blood or cut flowers and herbs during rituals. Next to the athame was an amber necklace and a first-aid kit, just in case, but you trusted each other and knew you both would be careful when it came down to using the blade.

Sihtric's Mjölnir pendant dangled as he leaned in to secure the amber necklace around your neck, which would later be an offering to Freyja. He then sat back and mirrored your position. You had thoroughly discussed the ritual beforehand and were clear on what you wanted to manifest and achieve. Sex and magick had never been an issue in your relationship, but combining the two was new and you were both filled with adrenaline. You both sat back on your heels, knees touching, and you lightly held each other's hands and looked into each other's eyes. Your breathing slowed down, as did Sihtric's, and soon you both breathed calmly and in sync. You gazed into Sihtric's mismatched eyes, one light and one dark, and your focus was purely on him, his body and your own body. You felt your muscles relax and your thoughts stopped racing, a trance like feeling washed over you, nothing but calmness, safety and love. Pure, primal, raw, real, deep, lustful, passionate and honest love. That is what you felt for each other and that is how you planned on honouring the goddess as well as each other.

You felt your heart begin to beat faster while your breathing stayed calm, but became heavier, and your lips parted slightly while your relaxed state slowly filled itself with desire. You saw Sihtric's eyes darken after he experienced the same feeling, and he slowly but firmly rubbed his thumbs over your hands. You both smiled softly while your eyes wandered all over each other, and the loving gazes transformed into lustful gazes. Sihtric slowly licked his lips, then his teeth, and he swallowed hard to keep his breathing steady. His eyes darkened even more and then he slowly got up on his feet. He held your hands and helped you up to stand in front of him, he turned you around, your back towards him, and he slowly trailed his tattooed fingers up your arms and to your shoulders. He lightly touched the amber necklace around your neck and, when he leaned in as he towered over you, you felt his cold bronze pendant touch your back. It sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his warm breath on your neck.

'Hide, my little bunny,' Sihtric whispered, his lips grazing your ear while his low voice made you shiver with anticipation. 'Run and hide,' he chuckled playfully, 'and I will hunt you like a falcon. And when I find you,' he husked, 'you're mine to play with.'

You held your breath until Sihtric stepped back, and you felt his hands slowly pull away from your bare arms. Then, when you lost his touch… you ran. You ran as fast as you could through the dimly lit halls of your apartment, away from the bedroom, and you began to tip-toe through the half dark in search of a hiding place. You hid between a few unpacked boxes in the spare room, knowing that if Sihtric stepped into the room you could escape through a second door that led to the storage room next door. You listened carefully for any movements, but Sihtric was quiet and had no trouble sneaking around. He had done it often in his own home, when you stayed over, just to scare you. But now it was different. Now you were hiding from him because you knew he was sneaking around, and you knew he would carry the athame that had been in the bedroom. It was all part to honour the goddess and to become even closer to one another, through exploring sexual desires without fear and shame and to be aware of all your senses.

You felt the excitement in your body; in your core, as it tightened like a spring that needed to be released. You shuddered when you suddenly heard your boyfriend's light footsteps nearing the room you hid in, and you had to bite down a nervous and elated giggle.

Sihtric quietly entered the room after he had searched the living room and the kitchen, but there his instincts told him to look in the spare room, and once he stepped through the door he smiled. He chuckled softly, the sound of it setting your lower abdomen on fire. He chuckled because he knew you were in the room. He knew he had found you, because he smelled you. He smelled the scent of your body lotion, which he loved, but there was another scent he caught which he loved even more.

'I know you're here, bunny,' Sihtric purred, 'I can smell you, darling. I smell the scent of lavender and eucalyptus,' he inhaled sharply and smacked his lip, then exhaled slowly, 'and the scent of your soaked pussy,' he almost growled. He pulled away the box you hid behind after you let out a soft moan at his words, and you jumped up. You laughed and screamed, then tried to run to the second door but Sihtric was fast, like a falcon, and he grabbed your arm. He yanked you towards him and pushed you down on the floor, where he crawled on top of you. Sihtric was just a shadow above you, as the candle casted its glow from behind him, but he could see your eyes widen with arousement and anticipation, and he laughed threateningly as he leaned in. You caught a glimpse of the blade in his hand as he held it up, and then you felt the cool steel being pressed against your throat.

'You're mine now, little bunny,' Sihtric cooed in your ear.

You then felt his tongue on your neck, licking up to your earlobe which he bit teasingly while his free hand moved up your thigh and underneath your nightgown. He trailed his fingers up between your thighs, lightly teasing your folds which he had free access to as you wore no panties, and he then smoothly pressed one finger inside you. You didn't speak, but your heavy breathing and the wet fluid that coated his finger told Sihtric all he needed to know. He got up and swiftly threw you over his shoulder, and he gave your ass a hard spanking as he carried you back to the bedroom. You pretended to fight his grip on you, just to rile him up, and it worked. Because he threw you on the bed and smoothly cut through the silky fabric that covered you up with the ritualistic dagger. Sihtric tore off your ripped nightgown and he was fast to remove his sweatpants. He then pinned you down on the bed again, the dagger held lightly against your throat. Sihtric's breathing was heavy and he bared his teeth at you, he then removed the blade from your neck and his lips took its place, sucking your sensitive skin, marking and claiming his prey.

You felt his markings as he made them, and you raked your hands through his wild, loose hair. You pulled his locks, hard, to which Sihtric growled like a beast and began to tease your pussy with the tip of his hard, leaking cock, his pre-cum mixing with your own arousal. You moaned and dug your nails in his back, clawing at him and scratching his back while he sunk his teeth in your shoulder, leaving his teeth marks. Strangled moans and heavy grunts left his lips when you began to push your hips up against his, desperately wanting to be taken by the man who owned your heart. You wrapped your legs around his waist, another silent beg for him to take you. He then flipped you over, on top of him, while he laid back on the bed and looked up at you with hooded, adoring and lustful eyes. His big, warm hands grabbed your hips and he grinded you down on his cock.

'Ride me,' he commanded, yet half begged.

You obeyed and sunk down on his twitching length. You both gasped softly as you took him all in, and you felt his fingers dig into your skin, holding you with a bruising grip. You began to rock your hips, slowly at first and gradually speeding up. The candle flames flickered as you looked into each other's eyes, both completely in awe with one another and so in love. Sihtric smiled at you, sweetly, and he bit down on his lower lip as he hummed in pleasure, watching you bounce rhythmically on his cock while your hands were placed on his broad shoulders. You dragged your nails down over his muscular chest, leaving red marks and drawing tiny droplets of blood from him, with which you painted your fingertips and you then brought your hands up to your neck and trailed them down your breasts to your stomach, painting yourself with light and thin strokes of his blood, until you reached your clit and began to stimulate yourself with your reddened fingers. 

Sihtric took your free hand and kissed it, then licked and sucked his own remaining blood off each of your fingers while he watched you pleasure yourself as you rode him so perfectly. He carefully took the athame and he made a light, shallow cut on the palm of your hand and he pressed it onto his chest, his heart, which you owned, and your blood left a mark before you smeared it over his torso and then onto your own thighs. And as you continued to make that raw and passionate love, you both envisioned yourself together in the future. You were manifesting your wishes, dreams, desires and goals while you made love. And when you both felt your climax approach, Sihtric cut the amber necklace around your neck with the silver blade and you both held it in between your blooded hands, as they were pressed together, coating the amber with the colour of two lovers who were destined to be together.

And as you both came, your desperate gasps and moans and his groans and deep grunts mixing together, your fingers locked even tighter as you held each other's hand. And Freyja's offering, the amber necklace painted with blood and charged with the energy of both your orgasms and love, was held tightly as you both came down from your highs. And once cleaned up, you and Sihtric would place it on the little altar for the goddess, and afterwards you would fall asleep in each other's arms; safe and loved. Forever.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @andakth @succnfuccubus @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1 @foxyanon @djarinsgirl27 @sigtryggrswifey @diiickbrainn @sihtricsafin @lexwolfhale @dixie-elocin @m-a-s-h-k-a

[mind-travel-er]

The Sun's Course [Part 1]

the empire's slumber

— Pairing: Brother Day (13th) x Female reader

— Synopsis: A story in which a Genetic Engineer is recruited by Brother Darkness, in secrecy. At the wake of his death and the rebirth of his Dynasty, Cleon The Painter dares to ask questions. However, Brother Day (12th) won’t tolerate to bring those matters into the light, and especially by the one person capable of understanding its ramifications. You. 

— Warning/Content: Hurt/Comfort, Cleon 13th, Touch-Starved Cleons, Character Study, inspired by S01E03.

— Word Count:  2.7 k

[read me on AO3] · [PART 2]

12,086 Era Imperial | 19 years after the fall of Star Bridge | Rule of Cleon the 12th; The Ruthless “It is treason,” you say. “I know,” answers Brother Darkness, gazing at the glass separating him from his younger self.  There, in a tint of sky blue that only Surfacers had seen, was floating a little cloud. The fetus of Cleon the 14th. “That’s precisely why you are here.

You look at the rumpled traits of the third brother, in his simple linen gown made of ocean. If his younger counterparts were wrapped in royal blues, it seemed that with age, the specter of the color was sinking deeper and deeper, like his melancholy. But it’s not only age that shrivels the face of Brother Darkness. There is a glint in his eyes that only comes with the dread of one’s end. The glint falls on you. “Will you do as I ask?” Your ears have to devote themselves to truly understand his words. “Of course, Empire,” you respond before your next heartbeat. One should not refuse Empire. No one dares. And you have to close the parting of your lips and compose yourself; rewinding his request in your head. As if he were asking permission. Hands clasping the strap of your medical kit crossing your chest, you turn yourself completely towards him, making sure your eyes don’t falter when looking into his own: “I will do as you ask.” A small smile brightens his face for a moment; like a meek, flickering flame. He turns himself towards you, putting his hands behind his back, and your memories echo Brother Day and Brother Dawn with the same mannerism. Countless times, you have seen his holograms do the same ritual during public speeches. You just hadn’t pictured seeing it one day in front of you. As if we had only collectively dreamed of the Empire’s presence, never experiencing it for ourselves.  “Call me Brother Darkness, Engineer. It is my place in the shadows that allows me such folly.” And it is. Terribly so. But you can’t say that, of course.  You swallow, but no saliva comes. You respond nothing, your lips cautiously sealed.  “Surely, you have questions. No one has come here for four thousand years, except for Demerzel and some of the Genetic Dynasty. I myself was not allowed.” He turns his head again, slowly, towards the glass. And one of his hands, gnarled and speckled, comes to rest on the barrier. If only for this obstacle, death and birth would be reunited at last. You dare to look at him, and it tames the slight freeze response gripping your body. He’s not as harsh as you imagined. There’s a softness about him that you could never hope to find in his other versions. At least, that’s your hypothesis.

Then you look around. Even for an artificial womb, with water coming up to the ground, it feels methodical and emotionless. The artificial tranquility of the sound of the fountain mixes with the harsh lines of the brutalist concrete. Even at the heart of the Dynasty, you find no warmth. You wonder if it’s perhaps one of the reasons that led to the destiny of Thespis and Anacreon. The day the only heat to be felt was fire raining down on two planets. You have to remind yourself that this Brother too has the potential to make those same decisions. No one likes doubts, and it could be argued that the foundation of all nations is stability. And stability requires certainty, not questions we do not dare ask. You think of your teachers and colleagues. Friends. Almost family for some. Streeling University suddenly seems like another planet altogether at this very moment. So, you hope this Brother can stomach uncertainty. And you ask:  “Why weren’t you allowed here?” “We had rules,” he responds, perhaps not to you specifically. “Apparently, witnessing one’s own origin can lead to madness.” His head bows, and his thin, white hair acts like a blinding shield.  “Perhaps…” He lifts himself again and scrutinizes the cords floating from the little body, attached to no mother and no belly. “Perhaps the same fate awaits me. Perhaps I’ve seen too much already.” You don’t comment on that last confession either. But you still have questions.  “What do you hope to find, once all the samples are collected?” The white shield goes away, and a mix of blues and greens observes you. Do his younger versions have the same nuances in their eyes? “Two things, Engineer,” he says now, truly focused on you. “First, if we are indeed all the same, just as Cleon the First dreamed. I fear time and experiences change us all, despite our … common bases.” He smiles, but there are no crinkles around his eyes.  “An egotistical search, no doubt. To answer if I’ll be remembered for my particularities… and if they even exist on a genetic level.”

Brother Darkness makes a few small steps towards you. Palms behind his rounded back now coming before him, opened.  “Second, I want to know. Will this one be different?” You can see how wide his eyes are and how the rim of white around his iris tends to take up more space than it should. The last time you saw such a display was from a sub-level worker at the weekly market. An orange in his stained hand, crossing eyes with the Imperial Guards. You look briefly at the fetus of Cleon the 14th, brows frowning.  “How so? I thought the replication was flawless. Aren’t such tests conducted again and again?” “No anymore,” he answers. “Do Luminists open the Script every time they apply their beliefs? The raw genetical code has remained untouched for centuries.” “You fear that corruption of the original material might be an issue?” You articulate. Again, his feet valiantly pace forward despite the smallness of their steps. His hands, slow and gentle, take yours. They can only feel the cold of the Aura separating the two of you. How could such a little thing prevent the most basic human interaction?  “Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”  “Brother Darkness?“ “Like the Sun behind the horizon just before it rises. I cannot see it. But, it’s here. Do you understand? You must conduct the tests.“ Maybe someone else wouldn’t notice the faint tremors of his fingers while he let them slip from yours. But you’re a researcher, and paying attention to details is the core of your practice. All speaks of Cleon the Painter and how he recorded history, producing the most exquisite murals ever made in Trantor. Masterful techniques that you had studied at school; moving patterns embedded in your digital manual. The cold is gone, but something much warmer stays with you. He rolls one of his navy sleeves with application, just as a child might have done during a medical exam. And suddenly, the knot in the pit of your stomach relaxes. The realization blooms in you as this version of Empire folds his linen tunic to offer the veins of his arm. Decades had reduced him to a frail figure that could barely walk without the help of a simple stick. If the man before you was responsible for an entire Galaxy, he was a man nonetheless.  You examine how his bent and rigid fingers fail to grasp the unyielding fabric. How the sides of his index and major, the same ones used to sign peace, are still covered with nano-pigments that swirl and curl on themselves. Your heart tightens. And memories flow from your grandfather, usually tucked away for rainy days. Perhaps you could join and help? But the Aura is there, hanging on his wrist, guarding him jealously. You don’t want to feel the cold again. Instead, you say:

“There’s no need for blood. A simple lock of hair will do.”  He stops. And his brows arch themselves. “Or… saliva, if you prefer. But I doubt that spitting in a tube would be dignified.”  You feel yourself lightly chuckling. He notices your hands; coiled and away. And he’s letting out a small scoff as his eyes wrinkle. The tips of his fingers come to press on the silver bracelet, and in response, a low hum raises the hair on your forearms as it does when a summer thunderstorm is ready to burst with lightning.  “You’re quite right. We can’t let that be my last contribution to this world, can we?” Empire has a sense of humor. It seems that not only color but the kindness of Brother Day would someday deepen as well. Or was it always there? Lingering just under the surface and waiting to take a breath? While searching for a more comfortable place to rest your equipment, only the sound of rippling water comes to you. The room is barren. There’s nothing to sit on. A far cry from the nursery of your little brothers, all in pale shades of apricot. Twins and twice as many teddy bears to fill the space. But here, nothing is soft or comforting. There are only three grey steps at the feet of the tanks. This will have to do. When the heat of Trantor was settling down, long walks at the end of the day were your favorite moments with your grandfather. Habits die hard and survive many, so without a second thought, your arm treads around the old man next to you, offering to slowly sit down. For a brief moment, he looks at you with something holds you in his green and blue eyes. Something you cannot quite pinpoint as you’re focused on opening your medical kit. There, amongst scalpels and test tubes, was hidden a reminder of your mother’s love. A wooden comb carved into the shape of a Ghillie raptor.  “Wood,” he comments with a whisper, now looking attentively at the relic between your hands. “I thought only the Palace had that privilege.”  All objects made of organic matter were indeed banned on Trantor. Those kinds of primary resources were too scarce to be transformed into commodities. The comb was a paradox: priceless because of its essence, and unsellable because no one was wealthy enough to buy it. It was just meant to exist.   “My mother was a horticulturist here. She was in charge of the wild woods before her retirement.”  “I know.”  A smile blooms on your lips. Of course he knows.  “Even wild woods on this planet are painstakingly crafted and engineered, aren’t they?” he says with a low tone. “Nature and Human-made don't have to be opposites. My mother guided life, and so am I. Tweak it and make it better. Not with trees and branches, but with threads of DNA.”  Holding the warm woods between your palms, your eyes are called by the creature deep asleep. Naked and unprotected by any womb. Devoid of touch. And as you follow the invisible link between the dormant unborn baby and Brother Darkness, you observe the carefully crafted bracelet. A protection that had continued the tradition born in this tank.  “Shall we?” At your question, Brother Darkness releases the gentle hold in his gaze and turns himself to offer his spine.   While the carved comb brushes his hair, strings of snow intertwine briefly with your fingers, weaving unintentional caresses. A sniffle is all you hear in response; the sound that someone makes when tears are at the brim, ready to tumble. If they do, you cannot see. But a life without true touch must be a lonely one. Some scars are invisible.  Time stretches itself. 

True, you could have gotten the scalpel out of your kit some time ago. Instead, you comb strings after strings until there’s nothing else to do but take the surgical blade into the palm of your hand. Your fingers select a lock of hair at the base of his neck, one where the disappearance is susceptible to going unnoticed. An unsettling thought grows in your mind, whispering that you could take advantage of the inactive Aura. Make the blue linen red. Nothing to stop your surgical tool, and, no doubt, countless people had dreamed of such an opportunity. Thespis, Anacreon… And how many worlds have been wounded in 400 years? How many mothers crying out after their sons and daughters? How many deaths at the hand of his three fingers signing peace?  However, in front of you, stooped and patient, there’s only an old painter. And he’s a dead man walking anyway, isn’t he? So you tuck away the intrusive thought. The blade glints, and the lock falls.  “You’ll soon ascend.” You speak softly, with a simple observation at the tip of your tongue that you don’t dare quite make.  Your hand clasps the genetic material into darkness. “Ah,” he rasps, “yes.” And he sighs shortly, like filling his lungs might be difficult. “Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful…  It's the transition that's troublesome, you see.” “Aren’t you afraid that the end of the week will come too soon?” “That is just the thing, Engineer. Despite your best efforts and those of your kind, it will always come too soon. Even for those like me.” You wanted to ask if he could promise that your own time, and the life span of your family and friends, wouldn’t be shortened. That he would make sure, even guarantee, their safety and well-being; only for you to focus on the research. Your underfunded Faculty could receive a substantial donation for the risks you were taking. All of this was possible… if unsanctioned studies on the Genetic Dynasty was not considered treason. More so, you fear that betrayal amongst Brothers will steepen the price of your involvement in it. You don’t dare speak because answers will give you neither assurance nor security.

Instead, you place the milky lock in one of your sterile containers. From tank to test tube. Who would have thought that the time in between those two moments would be so defining for the whole galaxy? “I’ll always leave. But I fear one day I might not return.” Science is supposed to be the heart of your work; devoid of political influences or subjectivity. There’s no loyalty toward Streeling University. But it would be foolish to assume you can afford a lack of allegiance towards Empire or its lesser versions. So, you respond: “That’s why I’m here, Brother Darkness. Rest your worries on me.” Saying there’s only the obligation to help him would even be a lie, you realize gradually as your eyes fall on the wooden comb back in your pouch. There’s something more: you want to.  “In the meantime, maybe you should hold on to this …” A faint blush warms the surface of your cheek. You hadn't planned on this. Yet, between your hands lies the little Ghillie raptor, waiting to be gifted. “I know it has no monetary value. Especially to the only person on Trantor that has access to timber.” He turns himself as far as his old bones might allow, wincing at the twist. You can immediately tell the waves are back in the ocean of his eyes as soon as he sees what you hold.  “That’s perhaps the most precious thing someone has ever offered.” “It’s worthless wood,” you comment with a slight smile to lighten the exchange.  His voice stifles, and it breaks.  “It’s priceless comfort, Engineer.”  Silence lingers for a few minutes as he grazes his thumb over the ridges of the wings. Then, it disappears into the abyss of his linen wear. The procedure is done, yet he doesn’t get back up. As if he was maybe waiting for the ghost of the comb to come back in his white hair. Instead, with shivering fingers still stained by swirling pigments, he touches the bracelet, and a warm light embraces him. How many times had he put this armor back on? Had he ever had the liberty to truly take it off? “I have one final question concerning your endeavor.” He only inclines his head slightly towards you, but you know he listens attentively. This is the one question you didn’t dare ask all along, until now.  “Brother Darkness… What will Empire do when he finds out?”