#seaside temple

[abyssalpriest]

It also makes sense that i'm to start working on the seaside temple now, because it feels like it's... been. torn from reality into the Mental. It's been stripped, it's afloat in liminality - actually lemme make sure I'm getting this across right

It's like if you had a model of something and stripped away a huge amount of points in it. Like you had a haze, and removed a bunch of molecules from it - just made them vanish. Ate them.

It's... So familiar to me. I know Lev's destruction intimately, I know how he eats things, I know how he destroys things. i haven't encountered this this life yet but I know it. I know his teeth marks when I see them, I know the power he has to make something no longer real. He ate this place, tore it apart in such a surgical way, removed its reality from it.

I've been working on bringing things into creation. We're now married, I act as his Priest for him, I act as an other half and a medium for him. I bring him back into reality and I sustain him.... Of course its now time to deal with this temple... Which... i think part of why its so suspended in Mind is because... not sure how to word this other than he is creating a womb within which things can be contained. The Lord of Consciousness and the Ocean enters the temple again, a haze of mind, to be guided and tamed by a Priest who can pull him into reality

[nobu11051991]

Tokyo 1 Day Tour, Shibuya Crossing, Meiji Shrine, lunch, Takeshita Street, monorail, Osaiba seaside Park, Daiba 1-chome shopping street, Gundam statue, Statue of Liberty, Tokyo cruise,Asakusa, Tokyo Skytree in 1 day!! 

Tokyo 1 Day Tour, Shibuya Crossing, Meiji Shrine, lunch curry, Takeshita Street, monorail, Osaiba seaside Park, Daiba 1-chome shopping street, Gundam statue, Statue of Liberty, Tokyo cruise,Asakusa, Tokyo Skytree in 1 day!! Hi I’m Nobu, I like traveling overseas and in Japan, visited 26 countries! I’m a National Government Licensed Guide Interpreter of English for 10 years. For the people who…

[tanuandthetriplets]

Sand Ka Bana Taj Mahal?!! | Dad's Konark Trip - Triplet's Vlog - 2nd October’23

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Negligence.

Pairing: Yan!Geto Suguru x Reader x Yan!Gojo Satoru (JJK).

A Continuation of Nursle.

Word Count: 9.0k.

TW: Dub/Con - Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Unhealthy Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Kidnapping, Mentions of Pregnancy/Childbirth, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Lactation, Geto and Gojo Have Their Own Thing Going On That Is Entirely Separate From The Events of This Fic, and Age Gaps. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

[Part One] [Part Two]

Suguru wouldn’t let you hold Himari.

You’d offered to as he led you out of Suguru’s apartment, reached for her instinctively as he gently urged you into the passenger seat of a familiar black car, but Suguru was in a fugue state – eyes glassy, voice softened and tempered, a glazed smile painted over his lips. He kept Himari pressed against his shoulder, and then, when she started to stir, in his lap, bouncing idly on his knee as he drove. It was dangerous – for Himari and for you. You were tempted to tell him that, to insist on holding the daughter that wasn’t supposed to belong to him, but then you remembered that he was a cult leader and a kidnapper and a murderer and you kept your mouth shut.

Instead, you kept your hands tucked between your thighs and your eyes focused on the passing landscape, on Tokyo as it dwindled from skyscrapers to rustic storefronts to backwoods. You thought of Megumi, first, surprisingly. Even if he didn’t spend the night with Satoru, he’d notice if you weren’t in class, tomorrow. He’d be worried.

You wondered if Nanako and Mimiko had been worried when they suddenly couldn’t find you in Suguru’s bedroom, where you’d spent the days following Himari’s birth recovering, when you stopped appearing at Suguru’s temple with a folder of worksheets and enough candy to keep two girls under ten engaged for a full ninety minutes. You wondered how Suguru explained your absence, if he bothered to explain it at all. You wondered how long they’d hold it against you.

It was getting dark by the time you left the city entirely. With the setting sun to your backs, Suguru slipped onto a deserted seaside road and, still in that gentle tone, broke the silence. “Was it different?” And then, as Himari sniffled, “With him, I mean. Different than it was for us.”

It took you a moment to realize that he was talking, another to recognize that you were supposed to answer. It was less that you were lost in thought and more that you were lost in the absence of it – your mind a vague, cloudy haze of static and fog and every other grey, disembodied, terrible thing that could seep its way into your consciousness and leave you entirely blank, entirely numb. It was all you could do to remember how to open your mouth, let alone piece an intelligent response together. “With Satoru?”

“Satoru,” Suguru repeated, almost disdainfully. “It took you months to call by my given name.”

You couldn’t deny that, although part of you was tempted to try. Because it was true. Because it had.

Because it was different – or, it had been, at least. Things had moved so quickly, with Satoru. He’d gone from a stranger to a stalker to something not totally unlike a partner in a handful of hours, and you’d watched it all from a distance, never fully able to shake that strange sense of liminality. He was rich, and stable, and he’d never suggested that you quit your job or attempted to lock you up in his mansion of an apartment, as trapped as you’d felt. He’d raped you, but you couldn’t say you believed Suguru wouldn’t have, had you not been so terrified of what would happen if you ever tried to remove any part of yourself from his control. You knew, rationally, that they had to be around the same age, that Satoru shared every quirk and every immaturity that’d once made you disgusted to so much consider Suguru in a romantic light, but it was different. When you first met Satoru, you’d seen him as a parent, a provider, a man who wanted to raise your daughter (albeit, with or without your consent). When you first met Suguru, you’d seen him as a boy who fell asleep in temple gardens and pretended not to be as scared as he really was, and if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you’d never really been able to stop seeing him that way.  

Suguru clicked his tongue. He still wanted an answer, but it was all you could do to shrug, to let your gaze drift back to the passing landscape. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I don’t think I would’ve wanted to marry him either, if he’d asked me to.”

You heard Suguru shift, the engine rev. He started to say something, but a shrill, ear-piercing, howl of a cry cut him off. You didn’t need to check to know it was Himari, and to know why.

“She’s hungry.” You spoke without thinking, snapping toward your daughter. You’d been on your way to feed her when you found Suguru next to her cradle, meaning she was already more than an hour past due. Himari didn’t cry often, but when she did, it was usually for a good reason. Yet another trait that must’ve come from Suguru – had she taken more closely after you, she might not have done anything but cry.

Something crossed across Suguru’s expression; a flash of irritation, a spark of anger, but nothing more violent, nothing lasting. He cooled back into stoic neutrality as one of his hands fell away from the wheel and to the back of your daughter’s onesie – lifting her out of her lap and depositing her unceremoniously in your arms, his eyes never leaving the road. “Can you take care of it?”

It. You had to dig your teeth into the side of your tongue just to stop from saying something you’d regret, from telling him not to talk about your daughter like some unfeeling, inanimate object, not to talk about her at all. You were in a car with a murderer, and you couldn’t forget that just because of some misplaced, motherly paranoia.

Instead, you looked around for a jacket, a blanket, something to cover yourself with, and when you found the car utterly and entirely barren, you settled for turning away from him and struggling the sleeve of your dress off of your shoulder. You went through the motions mechanically, automatically – cooing and running your fingers through Himari’s soft hair as she latched on, little hands grasping the scrunched fabric of your dress as she practically fed herself. You preferred formula, especially with Satoru breathing down your neck, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

A minute passed in relative silence, Himari’s crying slowly fading back into her usual incoherent, but relatively cheerful babbling. Eventually, her little eyes fluttered shut, and you pulled her away, holding her against your shoulder as she fell asleep. When she’d gone quiet, Suguru glanced toward you out of the corner of his eye. You saw him stiffen, straighten, then felt the car veer off the road and come to an abrupt, jeering stop.

You held Himari that much closer as Suguru let himself out. He took his time – his fingertips brushing over the hood as he made his way to your side of the vehicle, opening your door and nodding to the side. “You can leave her on the seat. I promise, I’ll try to be fast.”

You clung to Himari, who shifted restlessly against you. “You really can’t leave newborns unattended, she might—”

“I’ll be fast.” That smile was back in full force, albeit cast in shadow by the quickly dimming light. “I’ve missed you.”

You didn’t want to, but he was using that tone, again – the one that meant he was already running out of patience. Leaving Himari tucked against the backrest, you let Suguru take your hand and pull you out of your seat. No sooner were you on your feet than the door was slammed shut behind you, then Suguru’s hands were on your waist, pinning you against the side of the car. The heat of the dark metal sapped into your back, your shoulders as Suguru’s mouth found its way to the side of your neck, the crook. “I’ve missed you,” he repeated, his voice airy, edging on desperation. “I thought something happened to you. You were gone, and I couldn’t find her, and I thought someone must’ve taken you, or—”

His voice cut out. He didn’t draw back, but one of his hands fell away from your waist, reappearing on the neckline of your dress. His movements were hasty, rushed, like he couldn’t tear the fabric off of your shoulders and down your chest quickly enough. You weren’t wearing a bra, but even if you had been, you doubt it would’ve been much more of a barrier. A chilled sea breeze washed over your exposed chest as Suguru’s mouth fell from your throat to your collarbone, and then to the curve of your breast, lingering. “Wanted to do this since you got pregnant,” he muttered, as something heavy and spiked dropped from your diaphragm to the pit of your stomach. “Held off for the baby, but she’s had more than enough time with you.”

For a brief moment, every intelligent part of your mind seemed to slow, stall, then stop altogether. You opened your mouth, ready to ask what he meant, but unfortunately, you weren’t given the chance to be so painfully oblivious.

Suguru’s lips latched onto your left nipple, and anything you might’ve said was replaced with a hitched whimper.

He was rougher than he really had to be, than his daughter had ever been. The only thing you could think to compare him to, deservedly, was Satoru; just as forceful, just as loud, just as sickeningly eager. The only difference was his tempo. Satoru had always been too giddy not to rush, eager to steal a kiss before you left for work or wake you up with a hand lodged between your thighs, but Suguru seemed content to act as if he had all the time in the world, as if you were somewhere more private than the shoulder of a public road. The flat of his tongue lulled over your nipple as he drank, his free hand coming up to paw at your other breast in almost meditative patterns. You tried to shut your eyes, to block out the wet sounds of his lips working against your skin, but as routine as it was supposed to be, there was little you could do not to hear an occasional, satisfied grunt, not to feel a certain amount of relief as the pressure you’d learned to ignore began to dissipate. His teeth grazed against your skin, and reflexively, your hand found the back of his head, nails biting into his scalp. Rather than pull away, Suguru seemed to purr – the noise deep and throaty, reverberating against you as he leaned that much closer, as he shifted and you felt something stiff press into your thigh. Don’t think about it, you forced yourself to chant in the back of your mind, trying to remember all the age-old coping mechanisms you’d used when you were with him, all the coping mechanisms you’d forgotten after realizing that they wouldn’t work on someone as unpredictable as Satoru. You couldn’t think about it. You couldn’t put a name to it. You couldn’t acknowledge that sucking on chest was in any way connected to the hard, pulsing cock pressing into your—

But you didn’t have a choice. Suguru gasped, his breath hitching, and then he was drawing away from you, his forehead resting against your collarbone as a hand fell to the waistband of his jeans, freeing his cock – already stiff, already leaking into his palm. “I missed you.” You’d lost track of how many times he’d repeated the same meaningless phrase, but this time, his voice shook, misery seeping out from each fractured syllable. You might’ve felt more pity, but any sympathy you might’ve been able to feel for him was quickly drowned out by the material of your skirt being gathered in handfuls at your waist, his cock finding its way between your plush thighs. His larger body kept yours in place as he rutted against you, his open mouth leaking drool and milk and all the other ungodly things you could imagine onto your chest. It was embarrassing, really – just how tightly you kept your eyes shut, like a child walking through their first haunted house. Like all the bad things in the world would go away just because you couldn’t see them. “For weeks, I couldn’t—I didn’t know where you were, I thought—”

His form jolted against yours. You felt it – a sudden, liquid heat against your thighs, a sudden tension where Suguru’s chest pressed into yours – at the same time you felt the first tear fall, searing your skin where it made contact. There was another, then yet another, before you finally realized what was happening.

Suguru was crying.

Huh.

He’d never done that, before.

Finally, you forced yourself to open your eyes. Rather than attempting to look at Suguru, to see if his shoulders were shaking as violently as it felt like they were, your gaze moved outward, first to the bay, then to the sky – as black as spilled ink, now that the last traces of light had faded. As black as Suguru’s eyes.

You carded your fingers through his hair as he cried silently into your shoulder, never making a sound. Minutes passed before he spoke again, but you let him be the one to break the silence. “I don’t get it.” You hummed, and he went on. “I don’t understand why you didn’t try to leave him, too.”

“I might’ve, eventually. If I’d had more time.”

“But you didn’t.” His blunt nails bit into your waist with enough force to sting, but you didn’t say anything. “I don’t understand why you didn’t.”

You didn’t try to answer.

~

Suguru stopped at a gas station to clean himself up. You stayed in the car, clutching Himari to your chest, attempting not to flinch as her tiny hands pulled at your hair and grabbed at your skirt – searching for something to do, to entertain herself with. The rest of the drive passed in relative silence. Suguru didn’t try to make conversation, and even if you’d wanted to, you wouldn’t know where to start.

Finally, Suguru turned down an unpaved backroad, and far too soon, you were in front of a house you recognized. The architecture was traditional, the design compact, but you could remember Suguru saying that he and the girls didn’t need much. Later on, when he decided you shouldn’t be allowed to wander any farther than his line of sight during your pregnancy, he’d played with the idea of a larger property – something that could accommodate a growing family. If he’d ever had any real plans, they must’ve been abandoned after you left.

“We’re only stopping by,” Suguru explained, as he moved to step out. You didn’t wait for him this time – shouldering the door open and pulling yourself to your feet before he could decide he needed to drag you out of the car himself. “There’s a nursery attached to the master bedroom. The girls can look after Himari while we’re gone.”

Your breathing hitched, then stopped altogether.

The girls.

You’d managed to forget you’d have to see them, tonight. Suguru would’ve been enough to handle on his own.

You tried to take a step back, more out of reflex than anything, but your legs were unsteady, unreliable. You stumbled, but before you could so much as start to fall, Suguru was by your side, one hand on your arm and the other underneath Himari. He started to say something, but you were faster, louder. “I—I can’t. They’ll be so—I knew you wouldn’t hurt them, but I shouldn’t have—”

“They’ll be just fine.” He wasn’t crying, anymore. Instead, he took on the inflection, the stature he’d worn when you first met him – when he’d been the level-headed priest and you’d been a distraught non-believe desperate for help. If you hadn’t known better, if you couldn’t still see the reddened skin around his eyes, you might’ve called his composure sadistic. “And they’ve been waiting for you all night. Wouldn’t it be cruel to disappoint them now?”

It'd be crueler to make them face the woman who’d married their father and abandoned them without a second thought, but you doubted Suguru would agree. He was already curling his arm around yours, already guiding you towards the rustic villa. Whatever daze was keeping you from losing your mind entirely must’ve worn-off sometime during the drive. It was all you could do to keep yourself on your feet as you edged closer, closer to the front door. You were walking down the unpaved driveway, then standing on the wooden porch, and then, Suguru was ushering you inside – taking Himari out of your arms as you passed over the threshold. You didn’t try to resist. He wouldn’t ask the girls to hurt her, not after how long he’d spent holding the idea of a new, adorably helpless little sister over their heads, and wherever he was going to do to you after this, you didn’t want Himari involved. You didn’t want to give him an excuse to use her against you.

Suguru moved further into the villa, but you froze in the entryway. You could already hear the little, rushing footsteps, already picture the betrayal in their eyes, the questions they’d ask you and the answers you wouldn’t be able to give them. They’d hate you. They had to already hate you. You abandoned them, and they would know you abandoned them, and they would—

Two arms wrapping around your legs, the force of a smaller body crashing into yours. You glanced down and found Mimiko, clinging to your waist, her face buried in the material of your skirt. She wasn’t crying, but you could see her shoulders shaking, feel her nails digging into your thigh through the thin fabric. Reflexively, you reached down, resting a hand on top of her head and moving to nudge her away gently, to see if she needed help, but she only clung to you that much tighter.

Nanako was there, too, but she hadn’t latched onto you. Unlike her sister, she kept her distance, hands ringing the hem of her sweater as she stared pointedly at the floor. “Geto-sama told us what happened,” she explained, while Mimiko mumbled something incoherent and affirmative into your skirt. “He said that sorcerer – the white-haired one – took you and Himari away.” There was a pause, a quick glance in your direction. “He promised he wouldn’t let it happen again.”

Her eyes met yours, and suddenly, her nervous posture, the measured distance left between you and her – it made sense. You recognize the light in her eyes, or rather, the lack therefore.

It was the same shadow her father’s eyes took on, when he looked at you.

Whatever lie he’d told them, Nanako clearly didn’t believe it. Mimiko – sweet and loyal and prone to holding onto the things she loved like there was someone could come and take them away at any time – would’ve believed Suguru if he told her that world ended every time she closed her eyes, but Nanako was more pragmatic. She knew something was wrong. You doubted she would speak to you at all if she knew just how wrong, but still.

Swallowing your guilt, you lowered yourself to one knee and hugged Mimiko properly, squeezing her for one beat, then another, before letting her go entirely. Nanako was next. For all her reservations, she was running towards you as soon as you opened your arms to her, crashing into your chest and clinging to you twice as tightly as her sister had. “I’m sure he won’t,” you mumbled into her hair. And then, pulling back, “I know I was gone for a while, but it’s alright. The sorcerer Geto-sama told you about – he just wanted a little advice. He had two children he was raising all on his own, just like Geto. He heard all about how wonderful you two are, and wanted to know if I could stay and show him how to bring up the best kids in the world.” A kiss on either forehead, a thumb drawn over Mimiko’s cheeks to wipe away the tears she was frantically (and unsuccessfully) attempting to paw away on her own. “But, although I was very flattered, I told him that I had to go home. I knew you two would be fine, of course, but let’s face it – Geto wouldn’t last a day without me.”

It was your turn to pause, now, to lower your voice into something secretive. Mimiko was still sniffling, still determined to keep her face buried in her hands or your shoulder, but you made sure to meet Nanako’s eyes, to sound as sincere as you could – even if complete honesty was beyond you, at the moment. “Don’t tell Geto, but I missed you two most of all.”

Nanako looked like she wanted to say something. She almost did, too – tensing, opening her mouth, but she shut it again just as quickly, her eyes falling back to the ground in a sharp, violently narrow glare.

The pain was instant and beyond words. You wanted to pull her and Mimiko close again, to squeeze them tight and promise you wouldn’t leave them, not again, to apologize when you’d inevitably have to for the sake of a sister you hadn’t given them time to love. You wanted to—

You heard Suguru’s footsteps, felt his hand on your shoulder, and every thought you might’ve had that wasn’t devoted to your daughter’s well-being was gone.

Rather than embracing the girls, you drew back from them. Suguru pulled you gently to your feet, his hand falling from your shoulder to your elbow before wrapping around your wrist. “Keep an eye on your sister.” You could only be thankful there was still an ounce of warmth in his voice, as he addressed the girls. “(Y/n) and I have one more errand to run. We’re trusting you two to look after her, until we come back.”

You might’ve added something, made sure they both knew that you really had missed them, but Suguru was already drawing you towards the door – still ajar. The last thing you saw was Nanako taking Mimiko by the wrist before the door was slammed shut, and you were left entirely alone with Suguru.

~

Of all the places you expected him to take you, his temple hadn’t made the list.

His followers must’ve been sent away for the night, and the property’s attendants either dismissed or told to stay in their dorms. Every window was dark and shuttered, the gates locked and the doors bared. As you followed Suguru across the desolate courtyard and into the main shrine, you tried to think of places you would’ve wanted to be taken to, but came up empty. Part of you had been expecting the cheap, equally lifeless chain motels he’d shown a fondness for during your pregnancy, or worse, the hotel where you’d spent your first night together. Another, larger, quieter part had been able to imagine him driving into the deepest, darkest forest he could find and having his monstrous spirits tear you to shreds before you could so much as scream.

His ultimate destination was far from shocking, and yet, you still felt your heart drop into your stomach as he led you into his darkened sanctuary. As if in preparation, two tapered candles had been left burning in metal trays on either side of the screen door, and Suguru took one up as he passed by. You were left to linger in the doorway as, with a surprising meticulousness, he lit the candles scattered throughout the sanctuary, casting the open space in an ebbing golden glow. When he was finished, he collapsed onto his raised dais – perched on its edge, rather than laid across it. He almost looked out of place, without his usual costume, his usual posture. He almost looked his age.

You didn’t move. Running seemed impossible, but so did breaking the silence, doing anything to make yourself an active participant in Suguru’s bizarre ritual rather than a passive observer, a prop to be moved from place to place with little thought as to where you might want to be. A moment passed in silence, then another. Finally, he cracked. “Sit down.”

You didn’t move. “Are you going to kill me?”

He didn’t react. “All I asked you to do was sit down, love.”

“Are you going to kill Himari?”

He flinched into himself, going crooked. Something like hurt passed across his expression, as genuine as it was hypocritical.

He didn’t respond, but either out of pity or remorse or a lack of anything else to do, you found yourself closing the gap between you and him, setting yourself down on the edge of his platform. Immediately, his head fell onto your shoulder, his hand to your thigh, as if he was afraid you’d leave him again if he didn’t cling to you. “…I thought about breaking your legs,” he confessed, without prompting. “I was angry, when I realized you hadn’t been taken by force. I thought I’d be able to do it in Satoru’s apartment, leave enough blood to make him think I’d killed you, but—” There was a pause, a slow shake of his head. “I don’t know. I guess I waited too long, lost the nerve or something.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” And then, when he shifted curiously beside you, “It would’ve scared the girls. They’re already having such a hard time.”

At that, Suguru melted entirely against you. There was an airy laugh, a small sigh, and you felt his hand on your hip, his thumb drawing loose patterns into your side. “So considerate,” he muttered, nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. “Maybe, one day, you’ll care about me like that, too.”

A knot formed in the back of your throat. It wasn’t that you didn’t care for him – or, that you hadn’t, before he made it clear that the ways you were capable of caring for him weren’t enough. If you hadn’t felt anything for him, none of this would’ve ever happened. If he’d been satisfied to let you feel the same way about him that you felt about his daughters, it would never have gotten this bad. If you’d just laid back and let him fuck you the first time he’d asked, he would’ve lost interest in you months ago. You almost said so, too, tensed and opened your mouth and everything, but Suguru was moving before you had the chance to spit something out, his mouth crashing into yours with all the care and all the tenderness of a blunt object shattering bone. His teeth cut into your bottom lip, his body pressing into yours with enough force to throw you off balance, but his arms were already around your waist, keeping you upright. It was less that he slid off of the dais and more that he collapsed – dropping onto his knees at your feet, as little difference as it made in terms of height. He never let you stray very far, but tonight, he seemed determined never to leave more than a hair’s width of space between your body and his. His lips fell from your mouth to your neck, his hands finding their way to your hips. One darted for your neckline, but dropped back to your waist just as suddenly – all ten fingers soon burrowed into the plush of your waist.

“Your dress.” He wasn’t panting, wasn’t grinning, wasn’t laughing. His voice reverberated dully against the base of your throat, his pointed canines scraping over your skin as he spoke. “Take it off.”

You swallowed. Normally, he preferred to undress and re-dress you himself. You’d been scolded more than once for thinking you had any right to decide what you wore without his loving input, and when pressed, he claimed it was a show of love; proof of his dedication, his devotion.

This wasn’t about love, though, or dedication, or any other flowery word he’d ever used with you.

This was about control.

Your hands shook as you raised them to the back of your dress, finding the row of corset-type strings keeping the loose material in place. You fumbled with the knot for seconds, but Suguru was patient, willing to wait until the bodice fell away from your chest entirely, pooling at your midriff. You weren’t wearing a bra (again, an extremely difficult habit not to get into with a newborn at home), and one of Suguru’s hands came up, a scarred palm cupping your breast with enough force to bruise. You remembered, dimly, the time he’d spent pulled over by the side of the road earlier that day, but the memory was foggy, already so far away. You wouldn’t have been surprised if all of this seemed like one hazy, distant dream by tomorrow morning.

He detached from you suddenly, pulling away and kneeling on the sanctuary floor. Rather than relief, you only felt the world distort more violently around you; your pulse slowing and your vision burning as you clumsily pushed yourself to your feet, allowing your dress to fall away entirely. You moved to sit back down, but Suguru caught you before you could – his fist wrapping around your ankle, then skirting upward, settling gingerly against your thigh as his dark, soulless eyes raked over you. His stare caught on your panties, and his expression darkened. “I’m going to kill him.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. The pair had been Satoru’s pick; not quite a gift, but something given to you, regardless. They matched his aesthetics – needlessly detailed, smothered in lace, cast a shade of light blue so pale, it bordered on ivory. With how expensive Satoru’s tastes tended to run, you were sure the set had cost a fortune, but the priceless fabric gave away without protest as Suguru slipped two fingers under the waistband and tore. The ruined article fell away before you could so much as process that he’d moved.

Suguru’s impressive patience waned quickly. In the same motion, he pushed himself to his feet and took you into his arms, carrying you against his chest onto the dais, then to the altar pressed against the far wall. The scrolls laid across it were sent to floor with a single movement of his arm, and in the blink of an eye, you were laid across the polished wood, Suguru on his knees between your open legs. Your mouth opened, but there was no time to protest, to call out before his face was buried between his thighs, tongue lapping over the length of your slit. Still, you grit your teeth, bracing yourself to sit up, to tell him to—

Oh.

He'd gotten his tongue pierced, sometime after you left.

He was shameless. A rounded, jeweled stud dragged over your pussy, circling your clit with no pattern or pace, no intention other than to taste you. Never content to leave you to your own devices, he kept his hands wrapped around your hips, pinning you to the surface of the altar as he tried to all-but swallow you whole. It was messy, and overzealous, and worst of all, it was good. It was a matter of seconds before a mixture of spit and arousal stained the inside of your thighs and dripped from his chin, less than a full minute before you had to concentrate just to keep yourself from squirming underneath him. Not that it would’ve mattered, if you had. Suguru had always been playful in bed, content to milk reactions out of you with measured precision and careful vigilance, but that had been when you at least attempted to present yourself as willing. Right now, anything you might’ve felt seemed secondary to Suguru’s pleasure; satisfied groans soon joining the slick, wet noise ricocheting off the walls of his sanctuary. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip, crossed your arms over your face, but neither distraction helped to stifle the feeling of his lips latching onto your clit, suckling on it with all the care and all the delicacy of a butcher’s knife cutting into lifeless flesh. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes by the time he pulled away, but the pressure was immediately replaced by the bridge of his nose grinding harshly against the bundle of nerves, his tongue slipping past your entrance to curl against the most vulnerable parts of your cunt.

He let out another reverberating moan, and reflexively, your hand shot to the back of his head, your fingers soon tangled in his dark hair. One of his hands fell from your waist, and for a moment, you thought he was moving to pry away yours, that he didn’t want you touching him. But, fortunately or otherwise, his attention wasn’t on you. Instead, he reached for the elastic band holding his hair in place, pulling it out with enough force to snap the cheap plastic. You didn’t realize what he was trying to do until you felt him lean into your palm, his eyes fluttering shut as he melted into the semblance of your touch.

If you’d been capable of feeling anything more towards Suguru than you already did, you might’ve found the sight pitiful.

At the moment, though, you weren’t in a place to be quite so sentimental. It was all you could do to knot his hair around your fingers as you felt tight and hot form in your core, as your thighs threatened to snap shut around his head. You bit into the inside of your check with enough force to draw blood as Suguru moaned shamelessly, as he dragged you that much closer. It was too easy to forget to care whether or not he’d enjoyed it, too reflexive to gather his hair in your first and pull, to buck involuntarily into his mouth, to—

Suguru drew back suddenly, pushing himself to his feet. Thankfully, you caught yourself before you could feel disappointment, and after a few shallow breaths, found the strength to follow his stare away from you and towards the sanctuary door. Instantly, your heart stopped beating, the blood running cold in your veins.

Satoru stood in the doorway, cast in shadow save for his bright, piercing eyes. One of his hands was still wrapped around the doorframe, while the other hung limp at his side, cupping a small, pulsing ball of… light?

You didn’t have time to think about it. Suguru acted swiftly – pulling you into his arms and onto his lap, seating himself on the altar where you’d previously laid. “Drop it,” he said, his tone cold, cutting, not unlike an owner talking to his disobedient pet. He’d been short with you all night, but you couldn’t say he’d ever spoken to you quite like that. “Before you do something you’ll regret.”

The light dimmed before disappearing entirely, but Satoru didn’t move. He didn’t do anything, but you could feel it – a drop in the sanctuary’s temperature, a change in the air pressure, something deep and intrinsic that you didn’t want to be a part of. Reflexively, you tried to stand, to move, but Suguru held you tight, an arm barred over your midriff.

Despite everything, Satoru was the first to break the silence, albeit without doing anything to make that intangible tension any more bearable. “I should kill you.”

“You should.” Suguru’s fingertips dug into your side. “Those are your orders, aren’t they? Or are you going to put off delivering my head to the higher-ups for another three years?”

Whatever he was talking about, Satoru didn’t seem interested in acknowledging it. “You took my girls.”

“You fucked my wife.”

At that, something seemed to break. Suguru’s chest pressed into your back as Satoru’s eyes shut, as he sucked in a harsh breath and broke out into a fanged grin, the sharpest you’d ever seen him wear. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” He took a step forward, all hostility gone in favor of a sort of manic, unpredictable buzz. You didn’t know whether to be relieved that there was a slightly diminished chance you’d be caught in the middle of their fight to the death or terrified at the thought that they might want to do anything but tear out each others’ throats. “I fucked her after she left you. Bet you can’t stand it – knowing you’re not the only one who gets to run away.”

Suguru, for all his faults, didn’t flinch. He’d always had an even-temper at the worst of time. “What do you want, ‘toru?”

Satoru’s stare fell away from Suguru and onto you. His expression softened, taking on an almost apologetic lilt. Almost, but not quite.

“Not much,” he admitted, with a shrug. Even from a distance, even in the dark, you could tell his nonchalance was forced. “Just to say goodbye, make sure my pretty girl’s gonna be taken care of. Gotta wrap up loose ends, n’ all that.”

Suguru, for his part, seemed far from convinced. His grip didn’t loosen; if anything, he only held you closer. “And why should I let you?”

“Because I love her?” And then, with another step toward the altar, “Because you know I could wipe this building off the face of the planet, if I wanted to.”  

Pragmatic as he was, Suguru seemed to consider it. The hand over your side flexed, a chin settling against the dip of your shoulder, and beneath you, his stiff cock pressed into your ass – either unaffected or worse, fueled on by Satoru’s interruption. You were still attempting not to dwell on the implications when Suguru responded, level-headed as always.

“If you try anything, I’ll kill the baby.”

The second before a car crash, the spark where two wires failed to connect. For the longest time, you couldn’t seem to process what he’d said or how it could’ve been so gut-wrenchingly terrible. Rather than pull away, you flattened yourself against him, glancing over your shoulder. You opened your mouth, but the ability to speak was suddenly beyond you, set deliberately out of your reach. He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it, and yet, his expression was stoic, unchanging, the pinnacle of neutrality. There was no laugh from Satoru either, forced or otherwise. Still, he kept up his smile. As if Suguru hadn’t said anything of consequence. As if either of them had any right to so much as touch your daughter.

Satoru didn’t respond to the threat, nor did Suguru urge him to. Almost mechanically, Suguru’s arm fell away from your midriff, and with little more than a nudge to the back of your shoulder, you were on your feet, vulnerable and shaking on the center of the raised dais. You could still feel a mix of slick and saliva coating the inside of your thighs, and you had to swallow the urge to make a grab for your clothes, to put yourself through the humiliation of being forced to strip twice in one night.

 Thankfully, tragically, you were liberated from any illusion of free choice swiftly. Without protest from Suguru, Satoru stepped onto the dais and took you by the hand, either overlooking or failing to acknowledge the panic in your eyes in favor of intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing gently, as if you could still believe he genuinely wanted to comfort you. Rather than pulling you into his arms, dragging you down to the floor, he looked to Suguru, cocking his head to the side. “Get up.”

Suguru’s lips quirked downward, but he obeyed, pushing himself to his feet. “How blasphemous.”

Now, he pulled you off of your feet. In a moment, you were in his arms, and the next, you were perched on the altar, your back pressed against the wall and your legs spread around Satoru’s waist. “Blasphemous,” Satoru echoed, his voice low but plainly audible in the silence of the sanctuary. “would be fucking the most beautiful woman in the world on the ground. That’s why I’m her favorite – ‘cause I’m so considerate.”

No part of you trusted Suguru. No part of you preferred Suguru to Satoru, or the other way around. No part of you thought that, unless your life or his pride was threatened, he’d ever lift a finger to help you, but you found yourself glancing toward him out of the corner of your eye, doing your best to silently communicate that you needed to get out of here. Instead of sympathy, jealousy, you only found an idle smirk, a glassy sheen over his eyes that you could only imagine you’d mirrored for most of the day. “You’re not the one she’s married to, idiot.”

There was a dip, a surprisingly fleeting kiss to your lips, then your jaw, then your throat. “But she would get with me if you were out of the picture, right?” The question was punctuated with a nip to your collarbone, a hand dropped low enough to cup your pussy. The heel of his palm ground into your clit as two fingers pushed into your soaked cunt, spreading apart and scissoring you open. You tried to bow your head, to keep your eyes closed and your mouth shut, but you were still sensitive from your ruined climax, still so painfully exposed, and there was nothing you could do to bite back the cracked whines and pitiful mewls that slipped through your pursed lips. It was far from verbal confirmation, but Satoru hummed, grinned against your chest as if you’d sung his praises. “I’d get you a nicer ring, nicer house, nicer honeymoon. Always make sure you’re good n’ taken care of while Suguru’s busy playing god.”

Suguru huffed, and Satoru fell into a steady pace, adding a third digit as he carelessly fucked his fingers into your cunt. You didn’t hear him move, but before you could brace yourself, Suguru was at your side, leaning onto the altar to cup your face and trace over your jaw with the pad of his thumb. “I take care of you, don’t I?” You opened your mouth reflexively, ready to tell him that you were sorry, that you didn’t want him to touch you, that you wanted this to stop, but he was faster than you, more malicious. His thumb was forced past your lips before you could make a sound, pressed against the flat of your tongue with just enough force for your jaw to ache in protest. “I can’t blame Satoru for not being able to see that, though. Not when you treat me so cruelly.”

Cruelly. You’d never been cruel – at least, no crueler than you absolutely needed to be to survive. You felt pins and needles prick at the corners of your eyes before you noticed your vision blurring, before tears were streaming down either side of your face in boiling tracks. Satoru purred in sympathy, falling low and nuzzling into the tender spot at the base of your throat, flicking his wrist and burying himself inside of you to the knuckle. “You don’t have to worry, I know he’s the mean one.”

He was whispering, but that didn’t matter. He was too close, too awful for each word not to be absolutely deafening, for each little movement of his hand not to leave your nails scraping against the smooth wood of the altar, searching for purchase you wouldn’t find. Time was moving too quickly, it had been since you arrived at the temple. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t pull away, couldn’t breathe before Satoru pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the side of your neck and you were coming undone around his fingers, your thighs locking around his arm and keeping his digits inside of you until you could remember how to suck in a gasping inhale, until the last of the aftershocks faded and you could bring yourself to open your eyes. It wasn’t until the warmth of Satoru’s mouth fell away from your neck that you noticed the strange, copper tinge spread over your tongue, that you registered the absence of Suguru’s hand against your jaw. When you thought to look in his direction, he was evaluating his own hand. A thin, red line formed a dotted ring around the base of his thumb. You must’ve bitten down, at some point.

You must’ve hurt him.

Fear drowned out any satisfaction there might’ve been. He mentioned deciding against breaking your legs, earlier; was there any chance he’d change his mind? Would Satoru be able to stop him, if he tried to hurt you? Would Satoru even want to stop him? Himari was still alone, still in danger, and you wouldn’t be able to get to her if you couldn’t walk. You wouldn’t be able to stop Suguru from—

Satoru reached out, his hand curling around Suguru’s wrist and dragging it down to his height. With Satoru’s guidance, Suguru’s thumb came to rest against his bottom lip, then slipped into Satoru’s mouth entirely, his lips soon sealed around its base. There was a second or two of stillness, a swallowing-type noise too loud to ignore despite your best attempts not to hear it, and then, Suguru was pulling away and Satoru’s lips were crashing into yours.

It was strange for Suguru to be so clumsy, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be as surprised by Satoru’s lack of polish. It was all you could do to choke back a renewed sob as his mouth moved against yours, as his pointed teeth ghosted over your lips and grazed the underside of your tongue. He was all instinct, no logic, and when you tried to straighten, to leave enough room between you and him to catch your breath, he only seemed to want you closer. His hands were on your waist, then your arms, then your chest, never satisfied unless he could dig his claws into the most tender parts of you, and this time, when his canines grazed over your lips, he wasn’t satisfied to leave your connection at contact alone. He let out a shameless moan as he lapped at the puncture wound, warm blood leaking down your chin and pooling on your chest where it pressed into his. Again, you looked to Suguru for help, and again, you immediately wished you hadn’t bothered.

He wasn’t perched on the altar, anymore. No – he’d shifted, slinked, positioned himself behind Satoru where he was bent at the waist. He caught your eye as his arms snaked around Satoru’s midriff, as Satoru arched his back to better take advantage of the new contact. There was the distant, muffled sound of fabric rustling, a keening whine from Satoru, and then, Suguru’s hand was curled around Satoru’s stiff, leaking cock – pumping over the shaft while his dark eyes burned holes into yours. “Get it over with,” he muttered, the bitter sterility of his tone a sharp juxtaposition to the grin creeping across his expression. “Before I remember why I want you dead.”

Satoru didn’t have to be coaxed into compliance. No, he let himself be eased into place, let Suguru slot himself against his back as he carefully aligned Satoru’s flushed tip to your entrance. Even after he’d let go, his hands finding the edge of the altar on either side of you, Satoru failed to move on his own. You could feel him drifting from your lips to your throat, then lower – to the crook of your neck, a spot Suguru’d always favored. Vaguely, you were aware of his lips moving against your skin, of warm breath fanning over your chest and leaving frost wherever it’d touched. His voice was muffled by proximity, but whether or not you could hear him didn’t really matter. You would’ve recognized those three little words from a thousand miles away.

“I love you.”

If you’d been able to laugh, you would’ve.

At least Satoru didn’t expect you to say it back.

Suguru must’ve missed it – that, or he was beyond the point of caring. His teeth sunk into the nape of Satoru’s neck, and then, something hot and piercing was inside of you.

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying out. A fractured moan tumbled past your lips as Satoru immediately fell into a brutal pace; all that teasing tenderness gone the moment your pussy was wrapped around his cock. Suguru didn’t pull away, but he didn’t help, either; straightening his back and gazing down at you with that same foggy, absent, pleased expression. It took you a moment to put a name to it; lovestruck, all glassy eyes and hollow smiles, any anger hidden behind a thick curtain of glazed-over satisfaction. He’d never looked away from you, but when you met his eyes, he seemed to soften even further, his shoulders dropping as he brought a hand to the small of Suguru’s back, spurring him on. “He’s always been this bad.”  Suguru let out a keening whine into your shoulder, and Suguru chuckled airily. “Like a dog in heat. You’d think be as desperate as one, too, but apparently, his standards are too high for him to do anything but act like a whore.”

You couldn’t take it – the way Satoru’s hips crashed into yours, how his pubic bone ground against your clit, the pure venom interlaced with Suguru’s velvet-soft tone. You knew that it was useless, childish, but you couldn’t swallow down the cracked sob that rose up from somewhere deep and unprotected in your chest, couldn’t hold back the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. Suguru’s smile widened, his sharpened teeth catching the dull candlelight, but Satoru was kind enough not to be so observant. His attention was dedicated entirely to fucking into you as quickly and as deeply as possible; his cock never less than half buried. You felt him twitch, and before you could hold yourself back, your hands were on his back, your nails embedded in pale skin and tearing upward every time he bottomed out and sent a new type of agony coursing through your system. “Stop, stop, I can’t—”

“You can.” Clipped, concise, dripping with stone-cold affection. You’d be surprised if you ever heard any warmth in Suguru’s voice again. “That is, unless you’d like to break two hearts on the same night.”

Your mouth was still open, but you couldn’t answer. Satoru groaned as he rutted into you, his pace growing that much more erratic, his hips grinding into yours. He pulled you into another deep, copper-tinged kiss as he pressed his body flush to yours, as you felt something thick and hot and soul-crushingly familiar flood into you. It might’ve been the sensitivity, or the overstimulation, or the herbal stench of incense left to burn for a minute too long finally taking its toll – it didn’t really matter, either way. No explanation could’ve dampened the feeling of your cunt clenching tight around him, could’ve prevented the utter desolation of cumming on Satoru’s cock.

It seemed to go on for the longest time – second after second of thoughtless, helpless pleasure, century after century of Satoru against you, edging on your climax with the occasional sharp movement from his hips, a hasty kiss pressed into the corner of your jaw. Finally, after a small eternity, the last of the aftershocks faded, unwanted bliss fading into a slow, pulsing ache settled deep into the deepest pit of your chest. You felt Satoru shift; not pulling away, but lifting himself up, bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he said, again, and then, more quietly, “I’m sorry.”

You wanted to say something, to call him a liar, to spit out every venomous and vitriolic and warranted thing you could ever say to either of them, but it was already too late. Something vital slid out of place, a poor signal finally losing connection entirely, and then, everything went dark.

~

Nine months later, you’d find yourself in Suguru’s temple again, albeit not his sanctuary. A brown-haired woman in a lab coat and several female attendants swarmed around you, pressing damp cloths to your forehead and constantly rearranging the thick quilts laid over your limp body. Dried tears formed defined tracks down your cheeks, and every part of you screamed for rest, for escape, for a quick and merciful death. It was all you could do to suck in a shuddering breath, to remind yourself that there were more important things in the world than your own well-being. Sleep could wait. This couldn’t.

Slowly, you managed to turn your head towards Suguru, standing at your bedside just as he had for the past six hours. Your vision was distorted, dimmed around the edges, but it would’ve been impossible to miss the small, white bundle in his arms, already beginning to move. You could practically taste the relief, only slightly soured by your own exhaustion. Loving Himari had been a miracle. It would’ve been a lie to say that you hadn’t expected yourself to be more callous, the second time part of you was ripped away and molded into the shape of a man you hated.

Your eyes flickered to Suguru’s expression, to those impossibly dark eyes, and instantly, your relief was replaced by pure, unadulterated dread. A smile played at the corner of his mouth, softened and careless, but… Oh, god.

You’d never seen so much death in his eyes.

“Suguru.” You hadn’t meant to say anything, and yet, your voice was clear – a little hoarse, but far stronger than you felt. Never looking away from the bundle, he hummed, and you went on. “Can I see…?”

“Him,” Suguru filled in, bouncing your newborn – your son, gently. “A healthy baby boy. It’s a shame, really – I chose names with another girl in-mind.”

Thankfully, he didn’t make you ask again. With no small amount of care, the bundle was placed gently onto your chest, Suguru’s hand remaining on your shoulder – as if only waiting for your limited strength to give out. It took you a long moment to brush the swaddling sheets to the swaddling blanket aside, little hands immediately reaching up to bat against your own, and another to register what you were looking at. It wasn’t hard to see why Suguru was so angry.

You stared down at your son, and eyes more blue than the clearest, brightest sky stared back at you.

[crispy-armpit]

✧ 𝖒𝖞 𝖕𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖑 ✧

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴇᴀ ɢᴏᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𓇼˚₊‧꒰ა 🫧 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚𓇼

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 10 dollars on a dare leads you to break one superstition that changes your life forever. you begin to learn secrets tied to your family and upbringing, at the cost of your freedom. who is this mysterious Anshumat, and why does he want you?

⭒ 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵: 𝘨𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘺, violence, implied stalking, kidnapping, choking, reader gets called a bride once

⭒ 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 1,418

⭒ a/n: yan sea god was inspired by an Indonesian myth called Nyi Roro Kidul! it's a really interesting legend if you want to learn more abt it ^^ also.... man tits...... meow..

will you venture down this path?

growing up, you would stay over at your grandmother's house every summer. her beautiful seaside cottage made the perfect accommodation for a family getaway. throughout your childhood, the superstitious old woman restricted you from doing specific things. rules like never whistling at night, don't open an umbrella indoors, etc.

you'd eventually found out that these were just scare tactics for children to make them listen. but there was one rule that your grandmother seemed to fear the most, a rule that never made sense... never wear white to the local beach. and when questioning her about the rule, she'd tell you the same story every time.

"long ago...

a cruel serpent god who once ruled these waters would rise from the ocean and into the islands, devouring innocent villagers and destroying temples along its path.

the gods and humans were furious at its actions. fed up with the destruction and death, they prepared a plan to thwart the serpent; a binding curse.

the serpent was cursed to spend its days rotting in a hidden island, where it was accompanied by its servants. it was also tasked with granting blessings to sailors passing through the rocky tides, where it weighed the sins of each individual to seal their fates.

but over the decades... the serpent grew bored and lonely. through a loophole, the serpent found a way to abduct humans. you see.. the serpent loves the colour white and pearls. so much so, it would use its voice, so alluring, to lure the poor victims who happened to wear such things. and once in the water, the serpent would drag the human to its temple where they would become its slave.. or worse...

its spouse."

here you are today, telling the same tale in front of your young niece and nephew. "well, that's one way to get bitches." your nephew, Keona laughs. a scoffing Kehlani adds on, "nah, who would want to marry an overgrown slimy snake?"

"hey now, take that shit to grandma. she just assigned me to be your storyteller," you shrugged. "and this story has a real reasoning behind it, ok?"

"what? sexy sea snake destroying villages?"

"no, it's so that little rascals like you..." you drill both your index fingers onto their foreheads, "are easier to find if you ever get lost at sea."

how did i end up here...

facepalming yourself, you sigh. you were disappointed in yourself. how'd you let those little punks reel you in a dare? where was the self-respect? the dignity? seriously, breaking your grandmother's number 1 rule for what? 10 dollars?

you walk along the shore while wearing a flowy white shirt and neck encased in one of your mother's pearl necklaces. the dare was simple: successfully walk down the shoreline without chickening out and boom— an extra 10 dollars into your wallet.

you'd prove to the twins that you weren't scared of a little bedtime story. buuut just in case you did happen to go missing (for reasons that are totally not hungry sea serpent related), you brought essentials in a bag, left a letter for your family, and are currently being watched by the twins.

laughing at yourself for the paranoia, you nearly reach the edge of the walk until you hear a feminine wail from between the hidden rocks. is someone hurt? the sound was coming from beyond your finishing point so it wouldn't hurt to check, right?

signalling the twins to come over, you bend down to their heights, "listen, it sounds like someone's in trouble past those rocks. so I want you both to go grab the first aid kit and call Officer Holden over, 'kay?" they nod and scamper off into town.

approaching the rocks, you peek in to find a naked... mermaid?! observing her, you notice the torn skin on her iridescent tail and warily walk over to her. "uh... hey? hola? salve? hallo? i'm ah— good human! no... nooooo bad.."

you notice the air seems to smell... sweeter?

the woman looks up at you from the sand with pleading eyes, "please— please help me! my name is Coralie, my master, he—"

"woah, it's ok! you're safe, help is coming. uh, your master? did he do this to you? are you an underwater criminal?!"

a distant melodious voice interrupts you. Coralie's previously pained face now warps into a sinister grin as her wound disappears. she crawls towards you as your vision fogs up and your knees buckle to the soft sand. the song lulls you into a deep sleep, your body now being pulled into the shallow waters.

you awake to the bright rays of sunshine and lungs filling in with fresh air. but the next in your line of sight knocked all the air out of your body again.

the luminous, barely-clothed body of an unknown man sat above you. his 9'7 self relaxed on the marble throne, with 2 pairs of eyes fixated on you. what the fuck is that?

you gawk at him, "holy mother of god..."

i'm not dreaming, am i?

his gaze shifts into amusement, "wrong. we gods do not have mothers. we were created."

"you're a... a god?"

"is it not obvious enough from my appearance? would you like to see another version of me?" the towering deity begins to warp into a feminine body as if it was melting and moulding itself. "is this preferable?" her new voice is flirtatious, genuinely curious.

then, she tries to warp into a third body. the transformation looks more painful than the one prior, it barely shifts halfway into a gruesome beast before returning back to its first body. he huffs while grasping his golden collar, "this... is not my original form. I have been cursed, long ago, to never set foot on human lands. this island is both my kingdom and prison."

you shakily stand up the marble floor, now noticing Coralie standing beside the throne with a pair of legs. slowly processing his words, you piece together the clues from his story and your memories of the abduction. this couldn't be...

"you are.. you're the sea serpent god! I can't believe grandma was right— shit, shit shit—"

he smirks at your panic, "correct. I am Anshumat; shapeshifter deity of the raging tides, granter of safe travels—"

"murderer and enslaver." you complete.

Anshumat roars, "correct again! you're on a strike, dear y/n. though trust me, my servants are treated well."

"..how do you know my name?"

"oh you poor thing, granny never told you? I know everything about you— a name is barely anything."

"told me what?"

"she used to be my cupbearer. until she escaped with that bastard traitor. isn't that right, Coralie?"

she nods, "yes, master."

"please sir, let me leave. my family— they'll search for me! I have a cat at home! I haven't even finished my favourite show.. so please..." you try to list more life goals.

he chuckled, "oh you are so amusing. and why would I do that? we've barely just been engaged, dear."

"what do you mean engaged?"

"I've been watching you since you took your first breath on earth, y/n. so imagine my surprise— to see you wrapped up in my favourite colour, like a pretty bride. you're my sacrifice."

fear tingles your spine, "wait, that was just a dare! i didn't really mean it!"

"doesn't matter. you will be my pearl."

"no! I have a family, a partner—"

"i said... it doesn't fucking matter." he slams his fist against the throne arm, "and you'll be seeing the head of that twat soon enough."

you don't give him a glance before you're turning your back and run down the staircase of the grand temple. careful not to trip, you focus on the flight of stairs, painfully aware of the loud footsteps approaching behind you. it doesn't take a second for Anshumat to pull on the collar of your shirt and slam you onto the staircase.

he sits atop you, lower region heavily grinding against your stomach. "get off me! don't you have hundreds of other options?! why me?!" you scream.

his bedazzled skin blocks your view of the sun, furious eyes glowing under his shadow, and sharp teeth bared into a snarl. "you do not get to leave me again. you will stay, and worship me. this island will be our eternal paradise."

large hands pressing against your throat, you struggle before darkness begins to cloud your vision.

"this time, you will live."

[theveryworstthing]

over on patreon last month Sabrina Gross asked for gay goblins, so of course it was time to design some new boys for the Small Guide universe.

Max is a former gig adventurer who specialized in clearing out weird old homes from castles to Bad Sheds, creepy wizard towers, abandoned temples, ect. after the previous owner was dead/evicted and the less dangerous estate sales were finished. Dire is a charming young sea witch with aposematic hair color and vibes to match who Max found in a locked storage room marked, [WARNING - VOLATILE COMPONENTS, SACRIFICES, RARE HAZARDS, TEMPTATIONS - UNSORTED]. considering what else was found in the seaside manor after the owner seemingly made a deal with something that turned his body Lethally Wrong, their meet-cute was a little on edge. things went really well after they stopped fighting for the knife though.

Dire's ex owned the manor and there's marital paperwork (also locked in the room with him in a lead lined safe full of bloody seawater for some reason) saying it and the impressive inheritance attached to it are his now.

he has no comment about the widow thing, it's hard to mourn a cheater.

Max lives there with him in between odd jobs for the Guides, helping out with the local Henchman's Union, and the occasional adventuring gig for added enrichment. he could absolutely live out the rest of his life at home as a sea witch sugar baby, but he needs a chaos outlet.

[sataniquepanique]

Disarm

Astarion x Tav (she/her used)

Summary: Tav and Astarion have been secretly seeing each other for a few weeks. One of them is adept at feelings, while the other is better at noticing traps.

A/N: Set around the time of Act 1, before Tav and Astarion become officially paired/committed.

“So Astarion,” Shadowheart chimed from the rear of the group, stepping over a large piece of stone as the party of four combed the seaside cliff for a way into the temple ruins, “do you have anyone back home? A lover perhaps?” 

From the front of the pack, Tav could hear the sly smirk in Shadowheart’s voice. The sound of which made her wince, but the question itself caused a swirling chasm to form in the pit of her stomach. For a few weeks now, her and Astarion had been secretly carrying on a romance that neither were ready to make public. It’s not that she was embarrassed to be with him, but she worried what the others would think; would they not trust her anymore? Would they see her as weaker now? She thought the best of her new friends, but the nagging voice in the back of her mind was ever present, needling away at her subconscious. Astarion on the other hand, was not ready to even admit to himself that this was a romance. She knew it was due to his past trauma, that much she had been able to piece together. If you asked him (which she had a few nights ago), he’d say they were “exploring each other exclusively” and nothing more than that. 

The painful truth of it all though, after the many nights of sneaking into each other’s tents, of stolen glances across campfires and the countless hidden touches during their travels—Tav was beginning to fall for the pale elf. She couldn’t tell him that yet, not when he was barely able to admit that they were together at all. So she kept the feelings leashed, allowing their clandestine romance to stoke the flames of longing being bottled up inside her heart. 

Shadowheart's question, though innocent in nature, threatened to untether that leash. The thought of Astarion having a lover back in Baldur’s Gate was something that had never crossed her mind. He was beautiful in the most ethereal way, it would make sense that he had someone waiting for him. They were probably just as otherworldly. Tav wondered if they had been turned as well. As her thoughts began to spiral, the images of unfamiliar limbs tangled with his caused acid to rise in her throat. The acceleration of her heart almost drowned out Astarion’s answer.

“I’ve had many lovers in my time, darling,” he drawled, the words doing nothing to ease the ache in Tav’s heart, “but none that are worth going back to. Nor are they waiting for the likes of me.” 

Tav inhaled for the first time in what seemed like minutes.

“And who knows,” Astarion added, the familiar playfulness creeping back into his tone, “maybe I’ll find a new one out here in the great wide nowhere.”

Tav dared a glance back to find his crimson eyes trained of her. He shot a wink that threatened to melt her right then and there. Biting back a smile, she took a few more crafty steps around some rubble. As she went to side-step a fallen piece of a column, Astarion yelled.

“NO!” He wrapped an arm around her middle, yanking backwards until she was pressed firmly against his chest. “Don’t. Move.” The rumble of his voice reverberated through her as he slunk around and uncovered a hidden explosive beside the column. 

“This place is trapped. Be on alert,” he knelt down and began to quickly disarm the small bomb. Shadowheart and Gale split off and began to comb over the area for more, while Astarion returned to her side. A slender hand found its way to the small of her back.

“It would’ve been such a shame to have that lovely face destroyed, please try to be more careful next time darling,” he purred before placing a quick, yet incredibly gentle, kiss on her temple before joining the others. 

Tav stood in place for a beat longer, pulling on the restraints of her heart that were beginning to snap.

[jasmines-library]

for ypur marauders requests could we get a sirius black x reader where its summer and theyre just enjoying their vacation or smth and sirius is like super flirty and maybeeee ge asks her to marry him bcuz he found like an old ring in a shop or smth😭 sry thats super random but i thought itd be cute, thank youuuu!😙

For You, My Dove.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: This is so stinkin cute.

Warnings: some smoochin, mildly suggestive but 100% sfw.

Word Count: 0.9k

⛧ MARAUDERS MASTERLIST⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“Love?”

“Hmm?” You rolled over in the sand, smiling sleepily at Sirius who held out a bottle of sunscreen. 

“Come here. You’re going to burn, dove.” 

You scooched over, settling yourself in front of Siri who began to gently massage the sunscreen into your skin. The sun was high in the sky and beat down hard on the sea, warming it and making it shimmer like diamonds. It was sure to leave a nasty burn if you went too long without applying. When he was done, he pressed a long kiss to your temple and you leaned back into his chest where he then rested his chin atop of your head. The waves crashed against the shoreline noisily and people skipped past, diving in and out of the water or passing by barefoot as the sand sifted between their toes. It was busy, but Siri couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmured. Your cheeks flushed and you twisted to face him. “How did I get so lucky?”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m serious.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, flashing you one of his signature, charismatic and mischievous grins. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek before leaning in to kiss you, interlocking his lips with yours. Fingers pressing against his chest, you returned the kiss passionately. When Siri finally pulled away, his hand had trailed down to your waist and your free hand had inched to lay on top of it. 

“Don’t entice me, lovey.”

“Oops.”

He chuckled before rising to his feet and outstretching an arm, which you took, before he pulled you to your feet. Dusting off the sand, you glanced at the water. 

Without warning, you took off  towards it. “Race you!” You yelled back at Sirius.

He smirked, chasing after you. The water wasn’t very far away, but Sirius was much taller than you and very, very competitive, so he caught up with you in a few strides. What he did next however caught you completely off guard. Hooking his arm around your waist, he scooped you up and flung you over his shoulder. 

“Siri!” You cried out in surprise, hitting him playfully on the chest as you tried to get him to let you down. But he was set on his intention and was wading further out now, the water lapping at his thighs. 

“Put me down! I’m serious.”

“No…I am.”

“Siri!” You squealed as he continued out into the water before throwing you in. 

When you stood back up, gasping, you made a beeline for him splashing the water at him. “You bastard.”

“Oops.”

He dodged out of the way as you chased him. He retorted with the same childishness, mirroring the pure joy on your face as the pair of you splashed around. 

~

The air had grown cooler now that the sun had set. It wasn’t cold by any means, but there was a nip in the air that made little goosebumps prick up on your skin. Siri noticed this. 

“Chilly, Love?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over the back of the hand you had entwined with his.

After cooling off in the water the two of you decided to venture into the seaside town before grabbing a bite to eat. Each store was unique, full of handcrafted gifts or trinkets that glistened in the light. The two of you spent hours as you marvelled at everything, you had hardly noticed that the sun had begun to set until you deemed it time to walk back along the beach before heading back. It was much quieter now, with most people returning home or into the town for a bite to eat. 

“A little.” You shrugged. The temperature had dropped some, and the breeze was picking up a little; enough to make the trees waltz gently. 

“Here.” He slipped off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. 

“You’ll get cold-” You tried to protest as he removed it. 

“I’ll be fine, Dove. Can’t have you getting cold now, can I? What kind of person would that make me,huh?”

You chuckled. “If you’re sure.”

“Always.” He interlinked his fingers again with yours and the two of you carried on walking until you stopped to take a picture of the sun and how it just simmered above the surface of the sea, surrounded by a plethora of colours. When you turned around to show him the picture, Sirius was on one knee. 

Sirius was nervous. You could see it in his eyes, but he hid it well with that charming look on his face as he gazed up at you. Enclosed in his hands was a black box and inside resting on the plush cushion was a delicate ring. 

“Y/N…” He started, taking your hand in his. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while. From the moment we met I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Your smile, your voice. All of you, you’re engraved within my very soul. And from the moment we met, you’ve always been there for me; through the good and the bad. I couldn’t ask for anything more. I’m the luckiest wizard alive. Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, your heart swelling. Sirius slipped the ring onto your finger; it fit perfectly as though it had been crafted just for you. When he stood, Siri wrapped you up and pulled you into a kiss. 

“I love you so damn much.” He whispered. 

“And I love you more.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

MARAUDERS TAGS:

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @marauderfreaksblog

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[daegu-based-terrorist]

Top 3 dprk landmarks/spots/destinations to visit? Ik you were pretty young when you left but surely you must have at least a few recommendations

1. WONSAN. Wonsan. wonsan. Wonsan my beloved it’s actually the best and most beautiful city in the world. Is there actually anything to do there? Negative. But it’s just a really beautiful place and nice to relax in, the restaurants as far as I remember were the best in the country (godbless fresh seafood) it’s simultaneously mountainous and seaside so you look outside your window and are amazed either way.

I’m actually a liar because there is quite a bit of stuff to do in Wonsan, it’s a popular vacation city for North Koreans and Chinese alike so there is your usual tourist city entertainment. There is also a big football culture in the city if memory serves. There are of course temples and lakes and some of the best hiking trails in the country. The beaches are crowded but worth accidentally bumping into someone’s grandma from Shenyang for.

2. Pyongyang, hate to be a stereotype but you can’t really bypass Pyongyang it’s basically a crime.

It’s the biggest city so there is a lot to do, it’s gorgeous at night and there is always some sort of event going on no matter the time of year so it’s a very lively (is that the word?) city. Lots of shopping malls, food is excellent, the sports culture is inescapable, theme parks are pretty common all throughout the city, some permanent and some seasonal. Pyongyang also has some of the best museums in the country, if you are a history buff that’s the city for you. Pyongyang basically has all the perks that you would expect from a capital city, just take my word for it that it’s amazing.

3. If you like hiking. The whole chilbo region. And by that I mean in and around chilbo mountain. It’s another seaside/mountain combination and it’s just a very peaceful place, there are animals everywhere and small historic villages.

3b. If you don’t like hiking I’d suggest Kaesong. It’s a cross between old and new city, just alot of fun to explore tones of stuff to do ect.

I’m really bad at this kind of thing so just take my word for it lol

[casper-spills]

| Tarot Cards: Places they represent |

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁𝟑𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

Hey guys! Welcome back to another post ♡

We reached 300 followers! And I'm gonna do a special for you guys because I seriously am so grateful for all of your support. My blog has been growing so fast and I literally never expected to be where I am today. Thank you! ♡

This post will be a little different to my usual stuff. I was thinking I might start a series like this where I give some tips on how to read your tarot! I'll also include the sources I use at the end in case you wanted to check those out too.

Anyway, here is a list of places that the cards represent ♡

Sincerely,

Cassy the friendly ghost ♡

✦Masterlist ✦Paid Readings ✦Support me through Kofi

𓆩♡𓆪 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝙀𝙍 𝘿𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏 50% 𝙊𝙁𝙁 !! 𓆩♡𓆪

Ends on September 22nd

| KO-FI SHOP |

| MAJOR ARCANA |

1. Magician - Kitchen, labatory, shows, music, magic, performances

2. High Priestess - Secret place, secret society, library, somewhere quiet, reading rooms, theatre, halls

3. Empress - Old/stately homes, old school building, old hospital building, boutique, beauty parlor, restaurants

4. Emperor - Royal palace, business establishments, schools, univerisity

5. Heirophant - Church, univeristy, temple, place of worship, corporate building

6. Lovers - Sweet shop, date locations, love hotel, honeymoon places

7. Chariot - Car ralley, racing fixtures, garages, horse racing, highway

8. Strength - Zoo, petting zoos, gym, fitness studios

9. Hermit - Cave, retreat centres, hill walking

10. Wheel - Ferris wheels, london eye, casino, lottery tickets, shops selling wheels

11. Justice - Court, arbitration offices, counselling institution, police department

12. Hanged Man - Bungee jumping, sky diving, thrilling activities

13. Death - Church yard, funeral parlor, butcher, cemetary

14. Temperance - Cocktail bar, queues, waiting rooms, chemist dispensary

15. Devil - Adult shops, clubs, casinos, brothel, strip clubs

16. Tower - Chop shops, tall buildings, skyscrapers, stormy areas, fire

17. Star - Water, ocean, river, stargazing

18. Moon - Nighttime, stargazing, movie, stage, theatre

19. Sun - Birth centre, midwifery unti, hospital, holidays, tanning booths, abroad

20. Judgement - Rehabilitation centres, church, treament centres, spa

21. World - Airport, flying, dance studios

| MINOR ARCANA |

☁︎ 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 ☁︎

Ace - Editor's room, skyscrapers, office, library, radio tower

Two - Statue of liberty, new york, seashore

Three - Hospital, rainy place, cloudy areas

Four - Bedroom, quiet places, funeral parlor

Five - Debate club, near water, themepark, competitive environments

Six - Boats, river, cruisers

Seven - Archery, secret location, casino, bomb shelter

Eight - Prison, therapy

Nine - Psychiatric hospital, confessional

Ten - Surgery room, accupuncture clinic, dentists

Page - Fraternity, rowdy places, sports arena

Knight - Windy places, windmills

Queen - Fenced off places, great walls, boundaries, spikes fences

King - Lawyers office

🕯 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 🕯

Ace - Workshop, construction site

Two - Balcony, overseas, historical travel, boat

Three - Seaside, boat travel

Four - Fastfood, cafe, outdoors, wedding, celebration

Five - Sport centre, pool game

Six - Market, downtown, show, event, someone/something noticable

Seven - Competitive/violent environment

Eight - Road trip, highway

Nine - Competitive environment, barrier, wall, bouncer, high security

Ten - Workplace, labour, sweatshop

Page - Disco, dance, party

Knight - Hot and dry place, bonfire, abroad, holiday

Queen - Social events

King - Active place, fast moving environments

꒦꒷ 𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒔 ꒷꒦

Ace - Lake, pond, birdbath, birds

Two - Luxury, home, common dating places

Three - Bar, pub, party

Four - Under a tree, graveyard

Five - A place of regret, place of bad memories, hospital, flooded areas, bridge, after party cleanup, alone in a bar

Six - Flourists, schoolyard, playground, nostalgic places

Seven - Highup places, views, drug suppliers, spots where people do drugs, drug shops

Eight - Bookstore, library, cave, quiet

Nine - Bar, party, pub, dinner, home

Ten - Family gatherings, park, outdoor, bbq party

Page - Aquariums, fish tanks, sea parks

Knight - Picnics, peaceful/romantic areas

Queen - Bathtub with cancles, home, skinny dipping, swimming

King - Beach, lake

˗ˏˋ 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒔 ˎˊ˗

Ace - Dispensary, bank, currency exchange centre

Two - Circus, arcade, carnival

Three - Fashion show runway, art gallery, boutique, museum

Four - Uncle scrooge's home, gold reserves, saferoom, secret hideout, vault

Five - The streets, people living in powerty, homeless spots,

Six - Pawn shops, currency exchange shops, trade stores

Seven - Nursery, orchard

Eight - workshop, construction site

Nine - Gardens, green parks

Ten - Market

Page - Field, farm, family business

Knight - Workplace, chores, school

Queen - Home, nursery room

King - Bank manager's office

♥Thank you for your support!♥

Dividers by @cafekitsune, @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Source

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

Beside the Seaside: Ch 15

Chapter 15

Claire sat on the front porch steps and clasped her hands around her knees, watching Fergus and Faith play. The August sun dipped low on the horizon, a perfect summer evening stretched out before them. Footsteps tread along the porch and then Jamie sat on the top step behind her, his knees on either side of her.

“Here.” Jamie handed her a glass of whiskey and set his own next to him on the step.

“Oh, bless you,” she murmured, leaning back into his chest with a sigh. She felt him shake with a chuckle as he spotted the children.

“What the devil is Faith doing?”

“She got tired of Fergus trouncing her in their game and now is using physics to her advantage,” Claire explained, as Fergus tried to run past Faith with the rugby ball. Faith caught hold of his arm and spun as hard as she could, pitching Fergus to one side as he stumbled.

“That is not how you play!” Fergus howled from the grass as Faith stole the ball, giggling all the while.

Jamie’s arms went around her as he pressed a kiss to her temple, and Claire’s eyes slid shut in perfect contentment, absorbed in the warmth of Jamie and the sounds of the children’s laughter and shouts, and of the waves farther beyond.

[read the rest on ao3]

[abyssalpriest]

Alright, so, astral update. Not sure what I've said already so I'm just gonna recount from the beginning.

A while ago lev gave me some of his territory. He took me to the outside of an old building that dropped off into the sea, showing me the sea and ignoring the building. I've been having a great time going there to paddle around and swim in one of my forms that's too big to really fit anywhere else, let alone move around... Well. Eventually I was like hold on, is this building included in the territory? Yes. It's an old temple, it's been out of use for so long I wonder if locals (if there are any) even know what it is anymore. Actually, I do wonder if the temple is still fully Astral or if it's been dragged into his mind, or if it ever existed in reality in the first place but... It's weird. The sea feels very real, but it feels like the beach stretching off from it fades into nothing.

Anyway. I was poking, and he was nudging me and my thoughts, pushing me to conclusions. Seems like it's Poseidon name related -> maybe to do with an epithet -> maybe Earth-Shaker -> maybe the name he's worshiped under here is a version of or comes from a Greek epithet... He said then it was a name that was like the beginning of epithet, e-something-e. I know next to nothing about the name Poseidon and his epithets, but the first thing I see when I start googling is Earth-Shaker=Enesidaon.

So. Yeah.

The place is... Very much abandoned. It's in great shape! But there's no trace of anything that once was inside it, the lines of past figures and means of worship are... So faint. The walls haven't forgotten because they're inhabited by Lev who hasn't forgotten, but beyond that it's so hard to trace memories, energetic echoes, etc. I think that that's going to be a temporary thing, I don't think I'm ready to remember or tap into them just yet, and I don't think Lev's willing to release his jaws from around them and what's happened here...

I put a crystal mirror I snagged from a friend's realm in here, don't think it'll stay, but it definitely was a moment of this temple and myself coming back to life - coming into being used again?

I think for now the goal is... well, it's a choice, a choice to leave this abandoned, to dress it up into a house, or to (re)form an astral temple for Lev, itll probably be the latter, and that's the goal for now until I see that I should be making another choice, if that ever happens.

Idk. I said the other day I was beginning my journey into becoming an actual priest, but I wasn't expecting this. Wasn't expecting astral stuff, but boy am I thankful it includes that. Or. Might include that. Obviously it's happening lmfao

Anyway, in regards to the weirdness of it seeming grounded in the ocean but torn from land, I'm sort of presuming he cut off the locals/local area from it and dragged it further into the ocean. There's continuous similar weird shit going on with him and the name Poseidon at every turn and this would fit into that really well. Everywhere I go, "Poseidon" specifically seems so distant from worshipers and hard to reach, I always see worshipers online starting to get into working with him and falling off, and he himself tells me he Used to be Poseidon, still technically is, but his family and stuff have taken over that name for him.... He says it so like "I am he but he is gone". And still even though I'm sure family has stepped in to help him keep up the name, everywhere I look Poseidon is an absence. If this temple is torn from land... It's. Yeah? Literally? That makes a tonne of sense. He's been removing himself SPECIFICALLY as that name from humanity and other races' worship and going down into the sea again. He fades from view, he removes himself slowly and quietly from peoples lives, thats his MO atm whether it's worshipers on this plane slowly stopping posting about him, or us all not being able to point to the point in time he stopped showing up, or... the fact that this temple is slowly forgetting him and the locals are forgetting the temple ever existed because he's slowly rending the space between them and it into this dreamlike fog that inspires forgetting what you're there to do

[nobu11051991]

Enjoy full activities in 1 day!!  Monorail, Robot, Yakiniku, Games, Cruise, Asakusa, Tokyo Skytree!

Enjoying full activities in 1 day!! Monorail, Robot, Yakiniku, Games, Cruise, Asakusa, Tokyo Skytree! Hi I’m Nobu, I like traveling overseas and in Japan, visited 25 countries! I’m a National Government Licensed Guide Interpreter of English for 8 years. For the people who are interested in and planning trip to Japan ,I show you hidden local information which you have never seen and heard of…

[blueiscoool]

Greek Temple Complex Reveals Thousands of Votive Figurines

Archaeologists excavating a hilltop sanctuary on the Aegean Sea island of Kythnos have discovered “countless” pottery offerings left by ancient worshippers over the centuries, Greece’s Culture Ministry said Wednesday.

A ministry statement said the finds from work this year included more than 2,000 intact or almost complete clay figurines, mostly of women and children but also some of male actors, as well as of tortoises, lions, pigs and birds.

Several ceremonial pottery vessels that were unearthed are linked with the worship of Demeter, the ancient Greek goddess of agriculture, and her daughter Persephone, to whom the excavated sanctuary complex was dedicated.

The seaside site of Vryokastro on Kythnos was the ancient capital of the island, inhabited without break between the 12th century B.C. and the 7th A.D., when it was abandoned for a stronger position during a period of pirate raids.

The artifacts came from the scant ruins of the two small temples, a long building close by that may have served as a temple storeroom and a nearby pit where older offerings were buried to make space for new ones. The sanctuary was in use for about a thousand years, starting from the 7th century B.C.

The excavation by Greece’s University of Thessaly and the Culture Ministry also found luxury pottery imported from other parts of Greece, ornate lamps and fragments of ritual vases used in the worship of Demeter and Persephone at Eleusis, an ancient Athens suburb.

It is unclear to what extent the site on Kythnos was associated with Eleusis — one of the most important religious centers in ancient Greece, where the goddesses were worshipped during secret rites that were only open to initiates forbidden to speak of what they saw. The sanctuary at Eleusis is known to have owned land on the island.

Kythnos, in the Cyclades island group, was first inhabited about 10,000 years ago. Its copper deposits were mined from the 3rd millennium B.C., and in Roman times it was a place of political exile.

The excavations are set to continue through 2025.

[kuroppiii]

     little mermaid ᵕ̈           boyfie!kuroo tetsurō x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : "not even the ocean could ⋮⋮  rip me away from you. i'm not going ⋮⋮ anywhere. what am i? sea foam?"

📋 content         ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮         ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛         ♡ # ~800 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ i ' m in the summer mood thanks to @lcvemiyuki 's account xx . hot writer summer !!! ( not proofread !! ) ”

you turn to the next page of your book. you try your best from letting the sand that's stuck to your sunscreen-ed arm deposit little grains into the nooks and crannies of the novel's binding, but it's hard considering your lounging on your towel stomach-first. the seagulls circling above you and the shade of your beach umbrella mock you as you inevitably fail to do so. you try to lean forward and gently blow the sand off the neatly-printed letters when–

"stop moving babe!" your boyfriend of 6'2" whines like a child. "you're going to ruin art. my art."

and with that, you feel more sand getting dumped on the back of your legs and the light patting of hands to shape it around your body. kuroo was currently trying to give you a mermaid tail.

"how much longer is this gonna take, tetsu?" you struggle to say without giggling through your words. you hear him return your laughter, and although you can't turn around to see it, you can picture his smile and the way his eyes crease at the corners as he does so. you hear his steps in the sand as he comes up to join you and your book.

"it's almost done," he announces before nosing at the side of your face and leaving loving kisses from your temple to your slightly-sunburnt shoulder. you feel the ocean water still remnant in his hair from the swim you two shared earlier.

"you said that about 20 minutes ago if i recall correctly," you tease, trying your best to dodge his sea salty kisses.

"i told you to stop moving! oh, i'm gonna have to start all over again at this rate," he complains with the most dramatic sigh any one person has ever mustered, making you laugh more. "and how do you know it's already been 20 minutes, anyway? i haven't seen you check your phone at all, you've had your nose stuck in that book."

"well can see from the shadow of the sunscreen," you start through your fit of giggles, but as you start your defense kuroo starts to shift so he's right in front of you–face-to-face with you and leaning on his side. maybe it's heatstroke, but you swear you can see a twinkle in your boyfriends eyes, like the way the ocean shimmers in the midday sunlight. "and y'know if the egyptians, if they can use their sun dials to, to tell the passage of time, then... then..."

your laughter dies down and sound of your voice trails off. a subtle smile graces kuroo's lips, and you start to feel small by how devoutly he's admiring you.

you two share a peaceful moment, a lull where it's just you two and the sound of waves crashing against the shore nearby.

"i should bury you in sand more often," he suddenly blurts out, interrupting the silence.

you start laughing again, "why on earth would you say that?"

kuroo shakes his head and places his hand to the side of our smiling cheek, "because that way i know you won't go away. i like having you here, with me."

"i could never leave you, tetsu. even when i get my legs back. not even the ocean could rip me away from you. i'm not going anywhere. what am i? sea foam?" you lightheartedly joke. kuroo hums in response, and you feel the pad of his thumb start to caress your cheekbone.

suddenly you realize how close you two were, you can almost feel his lips on yours and the feeling makes your eyes flutter shut. at last, you feel his soft and tender (and a little sandy) kiss as his hand comes down to take your hand away from your book and into his own.

you depart and it's like you're in a daze. you have to take a deep breath of seaside air and rest your head down on your arm as you and kuroo smile at each other like the two lovestruck idiots you are.

then he goes to brush off the sand from his swim trunks and sit up, "alright babe, what do you say to some sea shells to decorate your marvelous tail–the one you definitely love and will stay still for because yours truly is making it?"

you reach out and grab a fistful of sand and launch it at his torso, which he lets out a pitchy yelp at in response.

"whatever you want mr. artiste, as long as i can get my legs back soon so we can go out and swim again," you say as you shift to continue your book.

kuroo gives you a wink, "anything for my little mermaid."

[fayes-fics]

Doctor’s Orders

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Someone decides to play doctor to ameliorate your bad day…

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, doctor/patient roleplay, dom/sub tones, ‘medical examination’ with use of stethoscope and latex gloves, voluntary breathplay, cardiophilia, vaginal fingering, edging.

Word Count: 4.5 k

Authors Note: this is a long-awaited (9 months!) request fill for the lovely @eleanor-bradstreet. My dear, I hope this is somewhat worth the wait. To anyone medically trained, yes, I know what he does is wrong/inaccurate, but that’s the whole point: he’s a somewhat clueless but enthusiastic roleplaying boy, not a real doctor. Thank you to @colettebronte for the read-through and suggestions. Enjoy! <3

It’s been one of those spectacularly shit days at work. When you get to your boyfriend’s flat, all you want to do is shower, crash out and watch brainless TV together.

“Bad day?” Benedict intuits, wandering over from the kitchen, casual in shorts and a t-shirt, as you drop your bag like a tonne of bricks near his front door and pout.

“Hate my job,” you whine, burying your head into his shoulder as he chuckles affectionately, pulling you into his arms and busses a kiss onto your temple.

“No, you don’t; you love your job. You just didn’t love it today,” he smiles into your hair.

“Urgh, fine, yes, Mr EQ, yes, that's true,” you huff his neck, enjoying his clean scent.

“Come with me, my stressed-out noodle,” he offers good-naturedly, withdrawing from the embrace and lacing your fingers with his. He backs up, pulling you along with him further into the flat.

“Where are we going?” you pout again.

“To eat, I made us dinner,” he smiles, something melting in your chest at the sweet gesture. 

“Do I have time to shower first?” you ask, wanting to remove all physical traces of this workday from your skin.

“Of course, be my guest,” he nods towards his room, with the en suite bathroom beyond, and you drop a kiss on his cheek as you go.

—

Fifteen minutes later, you emerge freshly showered and wearing some of his clothes- a t-shirt that swamps you and jogging bottoms you have to roll up at the waist. You take a seat at the kitchen island and tuck into the amazing-smelling food he has laid out, even giving you a comedic bow as you reenter the room.

The food tastes like heaven, and you can't stop the appreciative moans at the flavour explosion on your tongue.

“Fuck Ben, this is delicious,” you assert as you swallow the mouthful.

His face lights up with that beguiling smile that hooked you in the first place all those months ago, and you can't help but lean in and give him a quick peck.

“So do you want to talk about the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? Or is this more of a big glass of wine and stfu sort of deal?“ he hedges amiably, assessing your needs.

You sigh as you finish your next bite. “Honestly? I don't know. I’m so stressed about it all I sort of don’t want to talk about it. I feel like I need to be one of those Regency ladies who is prescribed a trip to the seaside for my nerves, you know?” you jest, circling your empty fork in the air to highlight your point.

He barks a laugh. “Funny you should say that; I was just reading a book about hilarious historical cures.”

“Yeah…?” your interest piqued.

“Dorset left it out,” he explains, referring to his roommate, a junior doctor at Guys Hospital. “It's hilarious. But I don't think they would diagnose you with a trip to the seaside, at least not based on what I’ve read.”

You swivel on your stool to face him. “Oh no? Then what would I have been prescribed, Dr Bridgerton?” you jest, leaning your chin on your hand and arching a challenging brow. But you don't miss how his pupils dilate a fraction as you address him such.

He turns towards you with a laconic smile. “You likely would have been prescribed a course of pelvic stimulations.”

You are glad you hadn't taken another bite of dinner, as you would have sprayed him with food with that spit take.

“What?!? No!” you laugh incredulously.

“Don't believe me? Go look,” he challenges, gesturing to the book on the coffee table.

“So… Is that what I think it is? Women would literally be told, medically, to masturbate?” you giggle, disbelieving.

“Oh no,” he corrects. “You wouldn't do it; the doctor would.”

“What the…??”

“Yup… ‘to alleviate the female hysterics’,” he chimes, affecting an old-timely announcer voice.

“With what?” you ponder aloud, still utterly perplexed.

“Hands, I would assume,” he breezes. “Why? Would you like a helping hand?” he winks, wiggling his eyebrows comically.

“I mean….” you trail off, still laughing but feeling a tiny buzz between your legs at the idea. “I'm not going to say no… Doctor Bridgerton,” you banter back.

Benedict puts down his fork, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows his bite of food and turns slowly towards you, an enigmatic glint in his eye.

“Well, now, you will need a thorough medical examination before I can determine if such a prescription is even the correct one,” he throws out, still with a jovial air, but the dropped octave is decidedly suggestive.

“How long until I can get an appointment?” you shoot back, feeling the atmosphere in the room shift, the dynamic between you playful but with a definite undercurrent of heat now.

“The doctor is always in… for you,” he answers, a hand landing heavily on your knee. “If you are ready, please go wait in the exam room,” Benedict responds, signalling to the sofa, that hand squeezing slightly. “The doctor can be right with you.”

You giggle and shoot him a ‘Are we really doing this?’ look. When he nods, you wiggle off the stool and drift over to the sectional as he disappears down the hallway, your half-eaten dinners now very much abandoned. Little butterflies in your stomach as you perch, eagerly awaiting his return.

When he re-enters the room, you almost forget how to breathe. He has obviously raided his flatmate's room and come out wearing a white doctor’s overcoat, his shapely calves bare beneath the hem, a stethoscope slung casually around his shoulders. He has also dug out his reading glasses to complete the look. He is so utterly convincing you don't know what to think, except…. Oh fuck yes.

“Good afternoon, Miss y/l/n,” he greets, stepping effortlessly into the roleplay. “I'm Dr Bridgerton. Tell me, what ails you today?” 

He sits on the coffee table right in front of you, looking at you expectantly for your response.

“Hello, doctor,” you begin, stilted, still a little discombobulated by his appearance and how utterly aroused you are by it. “I… I am overworked in my job and don't know the best way to relieve the stress I feel….” 

“Well, I am sorry to hear that. Let us do a basic examination so I can rule out any possible physical ailments and go from there.” Before you can respond, he produces disposable gloves from his overcoat pocket and snaps them on, your tummy fluttering at the sight of them pulling taunt around his long fingers. 

Oh, he means it.

He leans in, his hands cupping your jaw, warm even through the latex. You whimper quietly, realising he is pretending to feel the lymph nodes beneath your ear for swelling. But he doesn't let go; he just stares you down, his eyes glittering in the lamp glow. 

“Say ahhh,” he prompts.

You open your mouth instinctively, just like at the doctor’s. He pivots a hand so his thumb gently presses down on your tongue as he peers into your mouth.

“Hmm, I see no evidence of an oral infection. But I should check via other means too, to be thorough,” he murmurs, pupils dilating as you cheekily close your lips around his thumb and suck on it suggestively. The powdery flavour on the glove somehow just heightens the heat you feel spreading inside.

“Behave please, Miss,” he rebukes, but his actions say otherwise - extracting his thumb and trailing your saliva in a line down over your chin, your neck, resting it in your suprasternal notch as his fingers curl around your neck and tug you towards him.

His kiss is deep and breathtaking. His tongue unfurls into your mouth and probes yours as if this, too, is a thorough examination. You follow his lead, letting him dictate the terms, wanting to follow wherever he is going with this.

“I think we can rule out anything in your mouth being the problem,” he opines drolly over your lips. 

“Thank you, doctor,” you respond coquettish.

“Let me listen to your lungs to ensure there are no respiratory problems. Remove your clothing, please,” he orders brusquely, sitting back.

“All of it?” you inhale sharply.

“I suppose just your top for now,” he revises, looking a tad impatient.

When you whip off the top to reveal you are without a bra, his eyes flash, and the tip of his tongue pokes out as your nipples pebble in the cool air of the room. A wave of something behind your ribs as he unfurls the stethoscope from around his neck and places it in his ears.

“Please keep your hands at your sides at all times. And beware, this may be cold,” he warns.

You squeak as the cool metal is placed onto the flesh above your left breast, your hands curling around the sofa edge by your thighs so you keep them as told.

“Breath in deeply for me,” he instructs, and you do, taking a deep inhale, feeling your body bloom with his proximity as his face squints in concentration. When he doesn't say exhale, you hold, unsure what else to do, your lungs feeling tight. It seems much longer than necessary. “And out”

He drags the bell over your sternum to the same spot on the right side. 

“Again” he orders. You follow the instructions, taking a deep breath. “Hold it,” he alerts, as you start to feel the struggle for air. You do his bidding, feeling that trademark ache under your ribs under the exertion. “And release,” he instructs just as you want to disobey.

“Good,” he rumbles, “just one more.”

You pant lightly as he drags the scope down between your breasts, then jump as he presses it low into the sensitive spot where your ribs meet on your diaphragm. 

“In and hold.”

As you do, he tilts forward and suddenly seizes a nipple between his teeth. You make a strangled noise in your closed mouth, a zipping thrill right down to your clit. The surprise makes air escape out your nose, fingers grasping the cushion.

“No,” he gruffs into your breast, not looking up at you. “I told you to hold. You hold your breath until I say you can release,” he lectures. “Now breath in and hold it,” his voice taking on a steely edge that makes your pussy constrict.

Wordlessly, you do as told, and this time, he swaps to your other nipple, biting down, then lathing with his hot tongue as you struggle—tight lungs, intense pressure behind your cheeks. The thronging pleasure around where he teases you makes it an almost impossible task; starting to struggle a little, your body twitching, fingers and toes flexing.

“Let it out,” he permits, and you open your mouth, the air escaping in a loud ‘pahhhh’ sound.

“Well, I think your lungs sound very healthy,” he breezes nonchalantly as if this is just how a doctor does an exam.

“That’s good,” you defer to his faux expertise even as you feel his saliva drying on your areola. 

“Now, let's test your heart,” he proceeds, pulling the stethoscope from his ears so it rests around his neck. “Remove the rest of your clothing now, please, Miss.”

“Is that strictly necessary, doctor? Just to listen to my heart?” you waver, even as your hands go to the ties at your waistband.

“I am the doctor here, am I not?” he counters, raising a brow.

“Yes,” you demure, a pulse around your clit at how thoroughly he inhabits this role.

“You may find it easier to stand,” he chuckles as he watches you shuffling, struggling to remove your bottoms while seated. 

So you do as he suggests, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin around your belly button as you push the loose jersey material over the swell of your hips. He growls at the other surprise lurking—you wear no underwear, your bare slit inches from his face as the clothing pools around your feet, now utterly naked.

“Is this okay, doctor?” you simper, looking down at him sitting on the coffee table as he finally tilts his head to look at your face.

“Lay down on the exam table,” he commands, his pointer finger jabbing towards the chaise.

“Make me…”

Your tongue rebels before your brain can engage, wanting to see how much he will take control if you act out. He springs to his feet, towering over you, inches from you, and grasps the nape of your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Are you questioning my methods?” he interrogates, his hold strong but not hurting.

Oh, yes, Benedict, well done.

“No, Doctor,” you simper, attempting to look innocent but knowing your eyes must be fully dilated by now, distracted by the pulse you see in his throat.

“I need to be very thorough before I can diagnose you accurately, Miss,” he cautions. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, doctor.” 

“Good. Now lay down,” he instructs brusquely, releasing his grip.

You drop to the sofa and lay out for him, a thrill zipping over your skin. He places a large cushion beneath your neck and head so you are tilted up and can see down the plain of your naked body.

“Now be very still and be very quiet. Keep your hands at your sides. Whatever I do to you is to ensure your heart is healthy. Do you understand me?” he tutors, his eyes roaming your body covetously.

“Yes, doctor,” you confirm, knowing your chest is rising and falling rapidly, the anticipation burning in your being.

He places the stethoscope directly over your heart and loops it back into his ears, the cool metal now a balm against your flushed skin.

“You have a good strong heartbeat,” he states casually, “But it is a little slow for my liking….”

His gloved hand loops around the leg closest to him and hauls it wide into his lap, your knee brushing a prominent bulge under the overcoat that makes your insides clench at the very thought of his cock.

“Stay still.” 

His clipped reminder is delivered as he trails his fingertips along your inner thigh, his other hand still holding the stethoscope against your chest. Your breath stutters as his latex-covered fingers nudge your folds, already weeping.

“Well, I see there is certainly no problem with your ability to get aroused,” he intones smokily with a tantalising brush over your clit. 

His moves are unrushed, his touch maddeningly light, not nearly enough, barely a glance over your soaked flesh, making you ache for more. After a few moments, you whine and defiantly attempt to push into his touch.

“Did I not tell you to be still and quiet?” he arches an eyebrow, and you pout but still yourself and fold your lips inwards under your teeth. “That’s better. Now let's see what happens when I….”

He expertly plunges two long fingers into your pussy, your arousal leaking over his gloves as he does so. He hisses his approval at your heated cling, pushing deep as you swallow your gasp, biting your lip to prevent any more sound from escaping. His fingers hook, and his wrist twists in slow corkscrew turns, dragging thoroughly over your walls as if giving you an internal exam. You crave more: more fingers, movement, friction, more of anything, your fingernails scratching against the fibres of the sofa, keeping them at your sides as told, even as you itch to grab his wrist and direct his motions.

“Interesting,” he mutters, his fingers swirling slowly, probing inside as he drags the scope fractionally on your sternum.

You utter a silent curse, your body already quivering. The room filled only with the sound of your ragged breathing and the sodden noise from between your legs as he leisurely rocks his gloved fingers into and out of your pussy, you suctioning around his knuckles, the stretch with each stroke making you want to beg for him to make you come.

“Your heart is definitely strong,” he declares, “but I think we need to put it to the test properly.”

His thumb presses onto your clit, and it's like a lightning bolt through your being. Something about the fact it's not his skin on yours lends an extra frisson. You can feel the warmth of his pad behind the latex barrier as he flicks against your swollen nub.

“More, please, Doctor Bridgerton, please,” you entreat desperately, attempting to tilt your pelvis to ride his hand.

He groans at your use of his name, not chastising you for vocalising. His rigid cock brushes your knee held in his lap as he surges his hips fractionally, your legs spread obscenely wide as he finger fucks you, his stethoscope leaving a circular imprint on your chest, almost bearing his weight into your skin. God help you both if his flatmate cuts his night shift short.

“Your bpm is rising,” he reports as his fingers move faster, wringing filthy noises from your body now, pushing harder with every stroke, his thumb circling your clit with unerring pressure. You just moan a litany of ‘Dr Ben’, and ‘yes’ and ‘please don’t stop’ as you spiral higher.

“That's it, yes, that's what I like to hear,” he encourages, “it's like music.” 

Even you can tell your heart is thumping now, hearing it loud in your own ears as the blood rushes to your head. Just as you are about to crest, he suddenly stops his ministrations and withdraws his fingers. You cry out as he rests the soaked glove on your lower belly, pressing down softly from the outside on that spot that aches for more, your own juices dripping down between your bum cheeks.

“Shhh shh,” he pacifies, the scope he still holds with his other hand feeling heavy on your flesh as his prideful gaze travels up your panting body, gleeful at his ability to do this to you. 

You plead with your eyes as his eyes finally reach your face, silently asking him to finish.

“Wonderful, your heartbeat is so strong in my ears,” he sounds almost wistful, dreamy. 

Your breathing slows, even as you feel the burn of an orgasm so denied, your pelvis throning, your clit painfully engorged.

“Hmm, let’s go again, shall we?” he smirks.

That’s all the warning you get before he plunges his fingers back inside, this time using three, the latex glove squeaking slightly around his palm. You scream and cant your body up off the sofa to the point he briefly lets go of the scope; his glove presses down on your diaphragm, forcing you back flat so you cannot ride his fingers like you want to.

“Please, doctor…” you beseech, voice reedy and wanton, uncaring about anything but being hurled over that divine edge.

“The more you ask, the less I am inclined to deliver,” he menaces. “I will just edge you all night and listen to your heart thumping so hard for me it sounds like it wants to break out from under your ribs.” he jerks the scope pointedly over your breastbone. 

You close your eyes and bite your lip, resigning yourself to obey. That he might keep you on edge for so long, you cannot bear—you need to come like you need air.

His handsome face is smug as he once again probes your body from inside, almost experimenting based on the tiny whimpers you make. He jabs a spot that makes your entire body spasm, and a crooked, dangerous smile spreads over his features.

“Oh, look what we have found,” his chest resonant with pitch, the tone dark and sweet.

Once again, you beg silently, but he indulges in the tease. Tapping gently on the spot rather than rocking into it, a slow, gentle touch that makes every nerve jangle, like an itch you cannot scratch hard enough.

“I love to see you like this,” he admits breathily as he keeps us at that vexing pace. “So strung out and desperate to come. You would do anything I told you to right now, wouldn't you? If I just promised to let you over the edge.”

You are nodding vigorously before he even finishes his sentence, his triumphant expression almost galling if not for the desire writ large on his face.

“Good,” he snarls and starts to jab on that same spot. Desire roars fire in your veins, and you scream, your body trembling. He leans over and captures one of your nipples in his wet, warm mouth, and you scream again, uncaring what any of his neighbours may think.

You are dangling on the edge, reality bleeding into pleasure when once again he stops, and the noise that escapes your lungs is feral—a wretched groaning wail as an inferno licks around every edge of your being.

“Listen,” he growls, roughly yanking the tubes from his ear and placing them over yours. The noise is almost deafening, a thumping rhythm so fast it is virtually interpolating and looping upon itself. It's fascinating and life-affirming even as your body cries out, your clit pulsing in tempo with the thrumming beat. Greedily, he grabs them back and places them over his ears again, moving the bell to the right, his breath gusting hard.

“Touch yourself,” he orders gruffly.

It doesn't take moments for your hand to slide between your legs and catch your clit, a hardened, searing nub so wet you can hardly find grip and so distended it doesn't even feel like your body.

He leans possessively over you, a vein in his neck pulsing as he listens intently, his eyes pinging between your face, the scope on your naked chest and your hand between your legs, rubbing vigorously.

When his fingers sink back inside you, your knuckles cradled in his palm as you strum your clit, it hurtles you instantly over. You grasp his bicep as you crest the wave, your whole body held taught then snapping, shuddering and pulsing forcefully around his fingers as you tumble down that abyss, his stethoscope almost bruising your breastbone as you writhe, him singing your praises. You don't recall the next few moments, floating far away as everything is fuzzy, as if behind a gauzy filter. 

“Oh, that was perfect,” he attests sotto voce as you return to yourself, shaking with tony aftershocks. “You should hear how alive your body sounds when you come like that. Fuck that was amazing…” he seems almost dazed, his fingers dormant inside you.

As he withdraws from you, you emit a mewl, overwrought and shaking from the intensity. 

“Well, Miss,” he begins, slipping back into his roleplay. “I can say without a doubt you are very healthy, so no concern there. I can also tell your stress level is much lower now. Thus, I shall be prescribing you a minimum of two orgasms a day. Purely for your health, you understand,” he adds with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, doctor,” you nod drowsily, slurring slightly. “Should I administer them mysel…?”

“No,” he cuts in. “I'm afraid it requires a medical professional such as myself to ensure correct dosage,” his tone gravelly, snapping off the gloves from his hands, balling them up and tossing them aside. “You will need to see me morning and night for at least a month until I can properly assess whether the treatment plan is effective.”

“Yes, Doctor Bridgerton,” you purr sibilant, too strung out to do anything but languidly agree to everything he says.

As you go to close your legs, he grabs your kneecap, preventing you.

“Oh no, we are not done here,” he intones with a tinge of menace.

“No?” you stutter.

“No, I need to be very thorough,” he counters, his voice rich like velvet. His bare fingers trail ticklish patterns over the crease of your knee as he smiles perilously, enjoying keeping you on tenterhooks. “I am nowhere near done with your treatment for the day. You have only had one climax, and I do believe I said you need a minimum of two per day," he reminds you, his stare blistering. 

You watch, almost stupified, as he removes the stethoscope and swivels to kneel between your legs, grabbing them and pushing them high and wide apart, the burning stretch along your inner thighs making you gasp.

“Now, are you going to do exactly what your doctor tells you to do this time?” he grills, his fingers digging into your flesh, his gaze intense.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Good,” the word resonates through his being as his hungry stare slips over your body, down between your legs. “Now I think you need something more substantial than fingers, don't you?” he smirks playfully.

“Please, yes, please, Doctor Bridgerton,” you implore, canting your breasts up towards him, your eyes covetously sliding down his body as he hovers over you. Your breath quickens when you see the clear outline of his cock bulging against the overcoat. Oh god, is he naked under there? The thought makes you clench again.

You raise your hands and tug at the collar of his overcoat until the first popper opens, revealing his constellation of freckles. When he doesn't stop you, emboldened, you pull again, each popper relenting, a larger slice of his naked torso revealed with each ping. By the time you are down to the last two, you see the trail of hair from beneath his belly button and moan.

“You have been naked this whole time, doctor?!” your voice hitching almost scratchy.

He grabs your hand away, pressing it into the cushion above your head as he bears you into the sofa with his weight, one of that last fastened poppers snagging cold metal against your swollen clit.

“I cannot ask my patients to be naked if I am not as well, surely?” he rumbles, hot in your ear, his warm chest covering yours. He grabs your other wrist and guides it to the same place. “Now, hold onto the cushion under your head and don't move your hands until I say so,” he orders, his smoulder turning lethal as you do as told. 

He pulls up slightly and yanks the rest of the coat open, throwing it aside, giving you only a fleeting glance before surging his leaking, heated cock right over your slit.

“God, Ben, fuck me,” your errant internal monologue slips from your tongue before you can stop it.

“Who is Ben?” he quips duskily, rocking in a distracting manner, his tip glancing into your folds. “There is only Doctor Bridgerton here tonight.”

“Doctor Bridgerton,” you amend, fingers curling into the seam of the throw cushion, fighting the urge to grab him, “please fuck me.” 

He smiles triumphantly and lowers himself over you so you are swamped by him. 

“Well, as you asked so nicely…” 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

Dividers credit: @/firefly-graphics