EARLY BIRTH!! welcome to the world babies :D <3 set for the early hours of march 17th! please let puppies + khusobek post first, and then AW to members of muat-riya as well as any visitors from akashingo! birth order is randomized!
there were many things about womanhood that inji had yet to understand.
in the passing weeks, the maidservant's stomach had swelled and fattened to the point her back had begun to pierce her with a throbbing pain if she sat weirdly. her appetite wavered between famished and sick at the mere thought of food, and she often called @Tavina for assistance when she sought a relief agent for her pain.
but she spent many nights talking and singing to her unborns, always anxious to see their beautiful faces. when they began to kick, she called upon her betrothed to press his face against her side. when they begged her to rest, she would laugh; how can you be tired when i'm doing all the walking? some could say she was privileged despite her class, always doted on and supported. pregnancy did not seem so bad.
until she began to labor.
she felt it for the first time when she was straightening out her whelping den; a sharp, rattling shock that hit her pelvis and sent her nearly tumbling to the ground. she felt it in her muscles, in her bones, in her cartilage, and then it was gone — until it wasn't, and it came to her again when she settled beside @Khusobek for dinner.
for the rest of the following morning and well into the afternoon, she resigned herself to her secluded nursery in the back halls of the cenote. she could not see, could not hear herself screaming and swearing and begging every possible deity to make it stop;
but as time ticks beyond midnight, she looks down at the ruddy shape of @Safiya, painted in a striking crimson as she begins to clean away the mess.
her respite is brief. as she fights the exhaustion, the brutal bite comes to her again in a flurry. burning, burning, and then there is a second; she introduces @Kheti to the warmth of her bosom and upon his red-painted back drops soft, hot tears.
hours later, as the morning begins to paint the room in beams of sunburst, @Kiyya has his face swept clean and is brought into the light. inji weeps as she stares at the lilac-blue bundle, the soft eggshell that paints his tiny face — he looks just like her auntie, someone he will never know. she wonders, through it all, if the gods are real; if they sent him to her for a reason.
dawn passes into dewy spring morning, and by now inji can hardly find it within herself to breathe. more, more children still; her body aflame with an otherworldly exhaustion, she begs for tavina to do something, anything; the stubborn @Tiye is the last to come punching into the mortal world, and inji can do nothing but marvel with wide eyes. you look like me.
reeling, she feels half-alive and yet reborn at the same time, flooded with a smorgasbord of feelings she did not know could ever be so intense, so precious, so raw. her body aches. the fear slowly trickles into a quiet euphoria. and through the stench of blood and afterbirth she can see the four faces, the little pieces of two souls who happened to cross and build them from nothing, and she decides then that there has never been a more worthy price to pay.
his. hers. theirs.
i love you, i love you, i love you
in the passing weeks, the maidservant's stomach had swelled and fattened to the point her back had begun to pierce her with a throbbing pain if she sat weirdly. her appetite wavered between famished and sick at the mere thought of food, and she often called @Tavina for assistance when she sought a relief agent for her pain.
but she spent many nights talking and singing to her unborns, always anxious to see their beautiful faces. when they began to kick, she called upon her betrothed to press his face against her side. when they begged her to rest, she would laugh; how can you be tired when i'm doing all the walking? some could say she was privileged despite her class, always doted on and supported. pregnancy did not seem so bad.
until she began to labor.
she felt it for the first time when she was straightening out her whelping den; a sharp, rattling shock that hit her pelvis and sent her nearly tumbling to the ground. she felt it in her muscles, in her bones, in her cartilage, and then it was gone — until it wasn't, and it came to her again when she settled beside @Khusobek for dinner.
i think it's time,she remembered whispering to him through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed tightly and muscles strained —
for the rest of the following morning and well into the afternoon, she resigned herself to her secluded nursery in the back halls of the cenote. she could not see, could not hear herself screaming and swearing and begging every possible deity to make it stop;
but as time ticks beyond midnight, she looks down at the ruddy shape of @Safiya, painted in a striking crimson as she begins to clean away the mess.
oh, habibi, it's a girl,her eyes are half-lidded and glassy as she turns her head in search of her beloved.
you're a father.and she, now, a mother.
her respite is brief. as she fights the exhaustion, the brutal bite comes to her again in a flurry. burning, burning, and then there is a second; she introduces @Kheti to the warmth of her bosom and upon his red-painted back drops soft, hot tears.
you look just like your daddy, baby.
hours later, as the morning begins to paint the room in beams of sunburst, @Kiyya has his face swept clean and is brought into the light. inji weeps as she stares at the lilac-blue bundle, the soft eggshell that paints his tiny face — he looks just like her auntie, someone he will never know. she wonders, through it all, if the gods are real; if they sent him to her for a reason.
dawn passes into dewy spring morning, and by now inji can hardly find it within herself to breathe. more, more children still; her body aflame with an otherworldly exhaustion, she begs for tavina to do something, anything; the stubborn @Tiye is the last to come punching into the mortal world, and inji can do nothing but marvel with wide eyes. you look like me.
reeling, she feels half-alive and yet reborn at the same time, flooded with a smorgasbord of feelings she did not know could ever be so intense, so precious, so raw. her body aches. the fear slowly trickles into a quiet euphoria. and through the stench of blood and afterbirth she can see the four faces, the little pieces of two souls who happened to cross and build them from nothing, and she decides then that there has never been a more worthy price to pay.
his. hers. theirs.
i love you, i love you, i love you
If there were gods the little girl of sand stone didn't know it, not yet. She cocooned in comfort happily oblivious to everything outside her mothers womb. But when the first contraction began, she felt her world upending.
The bite of cool spring air took her breath away. It caused her to gnash her toothless mouth, but no sound erupted.
Paws and tail windmilled as she felt weightless and then heavily slid to the floor of her mother's birthing chamber.
Tongue uncomfortable on soggy body and she twitched. Then slowly found her place among mothers breast to suckle and sleep.
The bite of cool spring air took her breath away. It caused her to gnash her toothless mouth, but no sound erupted.
Paws and tail windmilled as she felt weightless and then heavily slid to the floor of her mother's birthing chamber.
Tongue uncomfortable on soggy body and she twitched. Then slowly found her place among mothers breast to suckle and sleep.
March 16, 2024, 08:10 PM
a gasp, a stretch of newly freed limbs, and then a cry. tiye, the littlest flower, has been born. took mama long enough, is what she probably would say if given the chance.
whipping her head in disgust of the primordial goo that clung to a coat she cannot see, tiye fights to latch on to a teat. all the while wailing at her siblings to get out of my way! she could only feel as they bump against her but she could only wail and feign a growl as she pushed past them to reach her mother's belly.
whipping her head in disgust of the primordial goo that clung to a coat she cannot see, tiye fights to latch on to a teat. all the while wailing at her siblings to get out of my way! she could only feel as they bump against her but she could only wail and feign a growl as she pushed past them to reach her mother's belly.
![[Image: tiye-itty.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/zB6wN6G3/tiye-itty.png)
music will tie what's left of me
March 16, 2024, 08:45 PM
perhaps it was unbecoming for Pharaoh to be present in the birthing halls, but her fellahin were to be provided the greatest care and she wished to oversee such. with Toula was the small, crude stone she likened to be a sculpture of Taurt, the Goddess of childbirth,
let Inji be safe! keep her and her cubs well! protect her!
Toula's voice was hoarse by the time Inji had finished, and only when she knew that five lived—Inji among them—did the Pharaoh open her eyes. she swept toward the door, but determined to grant the new mother space and time with her family—though she whispers to the woman,
she goes to collect baubles for the newborns, a smile on her lips—thinking without envy of her own time, which felt so faraway then!
let Inji be safe! keep her and her cubs well! protect her!
Toula's voice was hoarse by the time Inji had finished, and only when she knew that five lived—Inji among them—did the Pharaoh open her eyes. she swept toward the door, but determined to grant the new mother space and time with her family—though she whispers to the woman,
you have blessed these halls with new life, and brought Taurt to us. I cannot wait to meet the firstborns of Muat-Riya, when you are ready to present them. rest until then, my friend—and recover. you are important, as is your health,and now she turns to the crocodile, who she knew would protect her,
see to it, will you, Mazoi? congratulations,her voice is fond, and the final word is spoken to both before she departs.
she goes to collect baubles for the newborns, a smile on her lips—thinking without envy of her own time, which felt so faraway then!
March 16, 2024, 09:44 PM
many times had khusobek wished to drive his hard fist into the nearest face as inji's helpless cries of grating pain reverberated in every fibre of his soul. he did not remember his first children coming so harshly, but then again, the crocodile recalled very little of that life.
he had been useless in the beginning, following inji here and there, offering to massage her lower spine until she at last took to their chamber and began her travails in earnest. then their rooms had lit with activity which had first driven him into the hallways, and then flattened him to the wall.
he had to leave, at times, to avoid watching injii's harshest tortures; his rage was not fitting for the moment of birth, and so khusobek collected himself, over and over.
and then, when it seemed as though a thousand years of anguish had racked inji against their furs, a child arrived, a redbloom child, a girl; and his breath cracked in his throat; and he could not take his eyes from the tiny portion of them which had magickally separated from his wife and become a whole being.
the second, a boy; khusobek near vibrated with anticipation and wonder, torn between his deep worry for his wife and his exultation at her deep mysteries.
the third, another boy, and their fourth, a daughter; and the crocodile stared at each one in turn for so long he forgot that they inhabited, all of them, a birthing room for a moment.
he was breathless, mouth dry, eyes stinging; he dropped his muzzle to her shoulder as the sesh shifted to the cleansing of birth, dipping his head low when pharaoh herself came to attend inji, which pleased the guardian very deeply. "your wish is my will, great one," the crocodilisk murmured hoarsely. and then their regent had passed from the room, and he was free to look back upon inji, upon their children, alone for a space of time as tavina too left them.
only then did his tears fall upon the soft, glowing features of inji as he reached to softly kiss her radiant face.
he had been useless in the beginning, following inji here and there, offering to massage her lower spine until she at last took to their chamber and began her travails in earnest. then their rooms had lit with activity which had first driven him into the hallways, and then flattened him to the wall.
he had to leave, at times, to avoid watching injii's harshest tortures; his rage was not fitting for the moment of birth, and so khusobek collected himself, over and over.
and then, when it seemed as though a thousand years of anguish had racked inji against their furs, a child arrived, a redbloom child, a girl; and his breath cracked in his throat; and he could not take his eyes from the tiny portion of them which had magickally separated from his wife and become a whole being.
the second, a boy; khusobek near vibrated with anticipation and wonder, torn between his deep worry for his wife and his exultation at her deep mysteries.
the third, another boy, and their fourth, a daughter; and the crocodile stared at each one in turn for so long he forgot that they inhabited, all of them, a birthing room for a moment.
he was breathless, mouth dry, eyes stinging; he dropped his muzzle to her shoulder as the sesh shifted to the cleansing of birth, dipping his head low when pharaoh herself came to attend inji, which pleased the guardian very deeply. "your wish is my will, great one," the crocodilisk murmured hoarsely. and then their regent had passed from the room, and he was free to look back upon inji, upon their children, alone for a space of time as tavina too left them.
only then did his tears fall upon the soft, glowing features of inji as he reached to softly kiss her radiant face.
March 16, 2024, 09:45 PM
one post for tavina!
the sesh wished greatly to scold khusobek, as if he were able to control how many robust children inji's slight body managed to house. she sent word first to @Eset even as she was bustling for the chambers of the lotus and the crocodile. they would tend this birth together while nazli was away on expedition.
khusobek paced; she bundled him into the room and alongside inji. the poor girl had started her labor weeks ago, tavina was sure of it, a crushing spinal tribulation that at last culminated in this hour. tavina paced with the young woman, wet her brow with cloths, admitted no one save the husband and the hebsut; it went without saying that the chamber was open also to pharaoh.
inji's labour was pierced with screaming which echoed in misery, and more than once did tavina glance up to see the mazoi taking himself from the room, shoulders stiff with horror. yet each time he returned in only a handful of moments, coming back to flank his wife and murmur some gruff encouraging word into her ear.
it seemed interminable, but the first child at last arrived, a girl, and tavina smiled in spite of her own exhaustion, standing aside as khusobek crept forward almost reverently to stare down into the face of his firstborn.
it was then that tavina became aware of pharaoh's nearness in the hallways outside, and she was swiftly reminded of how ramesses had paced in the corridors outside the birthing chambers of satsu and treva. pharaoh's voice was a sussuration.
four children in all, born to inji and khusobek, healthy sons and daughters. tavina, who had administered a strong dosage of willowbark tea in between these children, now wiped inji's brow again and pushed down on the abdomen now gently pouched, intending to help the afterbirth be expelled and wrapped, to bury far from the palace.
when toula entered, tavina bowed briefly, but did not speak as pharaoh shared her words with the glowing young wife, and wondered if there was any longing in the youthful ruler to be one day as inji was.
the sesh mixed now a concoction for both the production of milk and the relaxation of the young mother. "well done, inji. you have much help, all through each hour. i will stay with you the next three nights," already small movements as a sleeping pallet was laid near the doorway. holding the drink to inji's lips, tavina smiled at khusobek and departed, taking with her the wrapped bundle.
not until she had gone twenty paces from muat-riya did her own tears erupt, pained gemstones cured in happiness for inji and bittered by the slander of what she had lost in nala.
khusobek paced; she bundled him into the room and alongside inji. the poor girl had started her labor weeks ago, tavina was sure of it, a crushing spinal tribulation that at last culminated in this hour. tavina paced with the young woman, wet her brow with cloths, admitted no one save the husband and the hebsut; it went without saying that the chamber was open also to pharaoh.
inji's labour was pierced with screaming which echoed in misery, and more than once did tavina glance up to see the mazoi taking himself from the room, shoulders stiff with horror. yet each time he returned in only a handful of moments, coming back to flank his wife and murmur some gruff encouraging word into her ear.
it seemed interminable, but the first child at last arrived, a girl, and tavina smiled in spite of her own exhaustion, standing aside as khusobek crept forward almost reverently to stare down into the face of his firstborn.
it was then that tavina became aware of pharaoh's nearness in the hallways outside, and she was swiftly reminded of how ramesses had paced in the corridors outside the birthing chambers of satsu and treva. pharaoh's voice was a sussuration.
four children in all, born to inji and khusobek, healthy sons and daughters. tavina, who had administered a strong dosage of willowbark tea in between these children, now wiped inji's brow again and pushed down on the abdomen now gently pouched, intending to help the afterbirth be expelled and wrapped, to bury far from the palace.
when toula entered, tavina bowed briefly, but did not speak as pharaoh shared her words with the glowing young wife, and wondered if there was any longing in the youthful ruler to be one day as inji was.
the sesh mixed now a concoction for both the production of milk and the relaxation of the young mother. "well done, inji. you have much help, all through each hour. i will stay with you the next three nights," already small movements as a sleeping pallet was laid near the doorway. holding the drink to inji's lips, tavina smiled at khusobek and departed, taking with her the wrapped bundle.
not until she had gone twenty paces from muat-riya did her own tears erupt, pained gemstones cured in happiness for inji and bittered by the slander of what she had lost in nala.
The Duat. A realm of constant dark, reigned by primordial chaos.
As night fell upon the waking world, the sun god descended beneath the sands to engage the wretched serpent. But, something felt different. Strange. The underworld was shifting.
In the deepest darkest part of the night, the sun god emerged a burning, flaming mortal. As red as the desert that had sired him, the sensation of rough tongue upon his face brought forth a warbling cry. He felt so small, fragile. His mother's tears fell with pained love against his fire-kissed spine and he felt something else then - he felt alive.
As the hours drew on and voices and bodies fretted around mother and babes, Kheti fluttered between suckling and dozing, blissfully content and unaware of all that was and what would soon be.
As night fell upon the waking world, the sun god descended beneath the sands to engage the wretched serpent. But, something felt different. Strange. The underworld was shifting.
In the deepest darkest part of the night, the sun god emerged a burning, flaming mortal. As red as the desert that had sired him, the sensation of rough tongue upon his face brought forth a warbling cry. He felt so small, fragile. His mother's tears fell with pained love against his fire-kissed spine and he felt something else then - he felt alive.
As the hours drew on and voices and bodies fretted around mother and babes, Kheti fluttered between suckling and dozing, blissfully content and unaware of all that was and what would soon be.
March 17, 2024, 11:52 AM
Before him was Tawaret, rotund and hungry, with her mouth open wide. Her teeth were like boulders and her tongue was a river leading down to the darkness of her throat—and she waited there while souls were weighed; new souls and old flowed the Duat to those teeth.
That is not your path, spoke a tall bow-legged man. As protector of the path, Bes stood astride the river Duat and the boy's soul was guarded as it made its way. There were shouts and screams where he was going, and Bes' laughter filled the air.
Go, little warrior! Do not be afraid.
As Kiyya slides free of his mother he is doused in the waters of her womb; the screaming he thinks he hears in this otherworldly space manifests as his first fearsome gasp! He yells for succor, for comfort, for love, and even when he gets these things he yells and fights even harder!
That is not your path, spoke a tall bow-legged man. As protector of the path, Bes stood astride the river Duat and the boy's soul was guarded as it made its way. There were shouts and screams where he was going, and Bes' laughter filled the air.
Go, little warrior! Do not be afraid.
As Kiyya slides free of his mother he is doused in the waters of her womb; the screaming he thinks he hears in this otherworldly space manifests as his first fearsome gasp! He yells for succor, for comfort, for love, and even when he gets these things he yells and fights even harder!
March 19, 2024, 09:46 PM
there were no words in any language to describe how tired inji now was.
her eyes are puffy and reddened from the tears, her tender belly swollen and stained a disgusting shade from all the bodily fluids. she feels disheveled, gross; ugly, even.
but she forgets about it all as she looks down at her children.
khusobek, too, enraptured by them. she beams up at him as if to say look at what we made!, tail curled neatly around their tiny, wriggling bodies. tavina, ever doting, ever skilled in her craft; inji thanks her with what little remains of her hoarse voice. and pharaoh, radiant pharaoh! she moves her arms so that akashingo's queen may see them, may bask in their beauty herself. she will have her own, too, in time, and she gets giddy at the thought that perhaps her own babes may meet the royal heirs one day.
when she and khusobek are left alone, she reaches up to meet his mouth with her own.
her eyes are puffy and reddened from the tears, her tender belly swollen and stained a disgusting shade from all the bodily fluids. she feels disheveled, gross; ugly, even.
but she forgets about it all as she looks down at her children.
khusobek, too, enraptured by them. she beams up at him as if to say look at what we made!, tail curled neatly around their tiny, wriggling bodies. tavina, ever doting, ever skilled in her craft; inji thanks her with what little remains of her hoarse voice. and pharaoh, radiant pharaoh! she moves her arms so that akashingo's queen may see them, may bask in their beauty herself. she will have her own, too, in time, and she gets giddy at the thought that perhaps her own babes may meet the royal heirs one day.
when she and khusobek are left alone, she reaches up to meet his mouth with her own.
come here, come hold them,she coos, hardly above the high-pitched yelps.
i think they wanna meet their daddy.
there's both more freedom and more restraint for the baby than there was in the womb.
she still could not feel nor do much despite being free. at least it is not as cramped! as the mass she knows as mama begins to move, the cub instinctively yet furiously kicks in protest.
she didn't know that she could no longer torment her mother with her vicious attacks, nor that now one can put a face to the kicking criminal. it means nothing now anyways; tiye is left to flail her little legs all while still believing she is victorious. it only takes another taste of milk for her to finally relax, unaware of how many eyes lay upon her and her siblings.
she still could not feel nor do much despite being free. at least it is not as cramped! as the mass she knows as mama begins to move, the cub instinctively yet furiously kicks in protest.
she didn't know that she could no longer torment her mother with her vicious attacks, nor that now one can put a face to the kicking criminal. it means nothing now anyways; tiye is left to flail her little legs all while still believing she is victorious. it only takes another taste of milk for her to finally relax, unaware of how many eyes lay upon her and her siblings.
music will tie what's left of me
March 21, 2024, 06:54 AM
A soft protest as she was kicked by one of her siblings flailing limbs. Though who it was she didn't know, but she pressed that injury more to pride than body, deep down. Then she moved away or tried. Flailing her own limbs and body, absolutely certain she had moved, when in all reality she had simply done a tootsie roll movement in place.
She suckled, feeling the burn of eyes on her little body. Her nape raising, but she didn't know what it was or the sensation. So she sank into sweet sweet milk oblivion.
She suckled, feeling the burn of eyes on her little body. Her nape raising, but she didn't know what it was or the sensation. So she sank into sweet sweet milk oblivion.
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