"Lay one of the towels...on the floor..." was the next instruction from John, his breathing deepening as the next urges started to build. Sherlock had just managed to spread the towel out when John could no longer fight and gave into the urge to push, his body on autopilot now as it directed his actions. Instinctively, his hands reached for Sherlock's arms and sensing that this was what John needed now more than anything, he allowed John's fingers to squeeze painfully tight into his shoulders. John's green eyes then match up with his own gray ones and lock, showing unrelenting focus for nearly a full minute as he forced the baby further down.
This is brilliant! I really enjoyed this and how original it was- I've read fics where Merlin leaves out of fear before, but none where when he comes back Arthur is so goddamn terrifying. You captured his fear and confusion so well, and even though I know Arthur to be good, his unpredictable reactions around magic made me worried for Merlin. The ending was perfect, though I was hoping for some mention of Arthur sending out a patrol to bring Gwaine back, and maybe offering him the honourable position of godfather/mentor to their son, as a reward for taking such good care of Merlin and being such a dutiful Knight? But it was enough to know that they lived happily ever after, so I can assume something along those lines happened. Beautiful story ♥
"F-Francis..." Niso mumbled softly, shifting so the tired male could see the baby. He looked down at it too when it began to cry. "N-Niso.." Francis moaned weakly, leaning his weight against the older male, his body still shaking from the strain of delivery. Slowly, he turned to look at the squalling baby cradled in Niso's arms. Francis couldn't believe the baby had come out of him. Before he could dwell too long on the insanity of the birth, his body convulsed and he arched his back, groaning anew when another contraction hit and a torrent of fluids expelled from his anus. "No..no..n-not again," Francis cried, face flushed and shiny with sweat. It was too soon! Niso bit his lip and got up from the tub, finding a towel and wrapping the baby in it. After laying the baby on the floor where it was safe he got back into the tub, gripping Francis' hand now. "It's happening again?" Niso asked, swallowing hard as he looked down to Francis' still swollen stomach with a shake of his head. Francis nodded jerkily. His chest burned with each quick and shallow breath, his lungs desperate for more air. But before he could gasp again, he surrendered himself to another painful contraction and bore down with a vengeance. The pressure in his anus was escalating. He bellowed loudly and squeezed Niso's hand for support. His head was spinning from lack of oxygen and he wanted the pain to disappear but it was only worsening. He paused for a brief moment to collect himself then jerked back with a cry when an involuntary spasm seized his body. The next baby was on the edge of crowning. "I can't," Francis begged and looked imploringly at Niso. He was defeated. "I can't do this..It hurts too much.."Niso just shook his head and kept a tight grip on Francis' hand. "Push Francis!" He ordered him harshly, glaring a little. "I gave birth to your six kids! Now push!" He growled. Deep down, he felt mildly angry at Francis' for giving up so early. He pressed his hand to Francis' stomach and narrowed his eyes at him. "Push.” "S-Stop it! Get offa me." Francis bucked and jerked, trying to wrench himself free from Niso's grips. He felt as though he was tearing in half, his sore anus bulging and straining to release the baby trapped inside his canal. It did not come out with his last push and he gasped for breath then fell forward, groaning as its head edged closer and closer to his anus, stretching him past the point of pain. Grunting, Francis threw his head back and pushed again, face and neck reddening from the extreme effort. Despite the pain wracking his body, he yanked his knees to his chest and bore down, cursing and screaming, when suddenly something slippery and wet emerged between his thighs, gushing fluids. "Haa..haa..h-head's out," he called weakly.
Not Your Typical PrisonerThe gavel came down with a loud thud. "The defendant, Jonathan Randoll, is sentenced to a 16 year prison sentence without chance of parole." I looked at my feet thinking of the life that would be wasted. At only 18, I wouldn't get out until I was 34 years old. It all started when I was growing up in a tough neighborhood. Desperate for protection, I joined a gang and was forced to do some initiation crimes. Over time I had been caught stealing and this was the third strike, meaning that I was not going to be spared when it came to sentencing. I knew I had to keep my poker face, though, because some of the gang members were in the courtroom and I couldn't show my fear, my frustration with where my life had gone.