#and even then it's a very dangerous way to live for both you and the people around you when life on earth is just a means to an end

[anghraine]

While I don't know much about WWI, I think it's worth mentioning that Denethor does not regard Faramir's retreat as a failure per se. On the contrary, his entire strategy depends on Faramir leading a slow retreat, and it's Faramir who had reservations.

In Tolkien's version, the geography and architecture of the region very much favor the Gondorians, but they're drastically outnumbered. So the strategy is for the Gondorian armies to inflict massive casualties as they retreat over favorable ground, including half of Osgiliath, the river crossing, the Rammas Echor (the wall around the Pelennor Fields), and then through the farms and townlands of the Pelennor Fields. Meanwhile, Denethor has the knights of Dol Amroth prepared to burst out of the city in a shock cavalry attack as soon as the retreating army starts to get overwhelmed, allowing the remaining infantry to get safely within the city. Denethor is also careful to order the knights back in the city as well so they don't get overextended, preserving the bulk of his armies. This occurs over several days, essentially forcing Sauron's armies to spend multiple days repeatedly attacking and overwhelming these highly defensible locations before they ever get near Minas Tirith, taking heavy losses as they go.

This is an incredibly risky and dangerous strategy because it essentially trades the lives of a portion of the Gondorian army for the chance to drastically slow Mordor's assault and inflict massive casualties—but the defending armies are less able to afford these kinds of losses with 9/10 of the country's armies elsewhere. So Faramir's position is that the trade-off is too high even if they're successful. Denethor's is that, well, it has to be done anyway, and requires a highly skilled commander to pull it off successfully. Faramir is likely the only person in Gondor other than Denethor himself who could conceivably carry it out the way it needs to be done with Nazgûl and evil magic afoot, and in fact carries out the strategy precisely as planned while under the effects of the Black Breath. Faramir manages to hold his troops together as long as he's conscious (he falls partly from the illness and partly because he stayed with the rearguard—the most vulnerable part of the army in a retreat—to get all his men to safety) and 2/3 of the infantry he's leading survive to fight in the later battle.

The days taken up by this punishing tactical retreat end up buying the necessary time for both the Rohirrim and the southern Gondorian armies to reach Minas Tirith and relieve the siege. As a result, Sauron's armies never even get past the front gate of the city, and their numbers are reduced when they have to defend themselves against the Rohirrim and the armies brought by Aragorn. It comes at a steep price—Denethor bitterly describes himself as "spending even my sons" and a lot of Gondorian lives are lost, even if the larger portion of the army is preserved.

I actually this is important to the original point, though, because all this makes it an excellent example of what the OP is talking about—retreat as both clearly heroic and, in the right circumstances, an entirely valid and effective strategy if you can carry it out.

It's a cliché to say that Tolkien's experiences in WWI affected all aspects of his writing, how he wrote about friendship and grief, how he wrote about desolate blasted landscapes. But I wish someone who knows more about Tolkien's military career could help me understand how Tolkien related to retreats. His description of Faramir keeping his people together on the retreat from Osgiliath is one of the best-written sequences in the trilogy, and hardly anyone remembers it. It's about a desperate retreat, and a leader whose presence, whose strength manages to keep it from turning into a rout. There's something very vivid in the descriptions: don't break formation, don't start running or they'll pick you off one by one, keep together, keep moving, hold all of that fear at bay. Tolkien describes that retreat as genuinely heroic, a superhuman act of will, one that exhausts Faramir almost to death, and Denethor still does not accept it as heroic because it's a retreat. It saved men but it lost territory, therefore in his eyes it's a failure.

Tolkien has strong opinions about heroic retreats, in the Silmarillion he sometimes gives the retreat-through-the-dangerous-wilderness plotline to female characters (Emeldir, Idril), he always writes them with respect. Sometimes, getting out of there and keeping most of your people alive is a great act of valour. I feel like he must have had a personal experience about what it means to retreat, and what it means to hold a retreat together, and what it means to get no thanks for it.

[cherryeclipses]

i love you, i'm sorry ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

dean winchester x reader

angst, childhood lovers to enemies (potentially to lovers again), i love writing angsty dean I'm sorry. warning - I hardly edit any of my writing sorry

word count: 2.1K

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

cause that's just the way life goes ...

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

You were 16 when you met Dean Winchester, he and his brother Sam were new to your school. The moment you met you instantly had a crush on the boy, he was charming, funny, dangerous, and downright sexy. The only problem was every other girl in your grade felt the same thing, hell even some of the guys did. Dean had the kind of energy when he walked into a room all eyes were on him. It wasn't until a few months later when you would finally speak to him, it turns out his dad and yours were friends; hunting friends. Okay maybe friends is too much, more like acquaintances, they would help each other if they were hunting the same thing. John and your father had decided now that John was to be in your hometown for at least the next few months that the three of you kids could keep each other company.

The first time the three of you met officially it was a horrible stormy night. Something straight out of a horror movie, the rain was pelting against the windows, making them rattle, and thunder clapped so loud in the distance it sounded as though the apocalypse was beginning. John came over to your house with Sam and Dean to sit down with your father and go over the lore of whatever monster they were hunting now. "Darlin' you remember John Winchester?" Your dad said lazily, gesturing to the elder Winchester. You just nodded politely. "Well these are his sons, Dean and little Sam. " He continued. "I know, I've met them already." Both fathers looked at you confused for a moment. "I mean, they started at school last month. I think I have a couple classes with Dean." You shrugged, trying to play it off. You caught Dean's expression from the corner of your eye, he was smirking at you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

As the two men retreated to spend the night in the study you were left standing in the kitchen with Sam and Dean, awkwardly. "I'll show you both to the living room, we can order a pizza or something?" You turned on your heels and the boys followed you into the next room. You sat on one end of the couch, Sam on the other and Dean sat in the armchair across from you. Sam started flicking absentmindedly through the tv channels, trying to drown out the uncomfortable silence. "It must be nice to have a real home and don't have to move schools all the time." Sam spoke up. "Uh yeah, I guess it's alright. I mean it'd be even better if dad wasn't a hunter at all." You gave the young boy a sympathetic smile. You looked up to see Dean still staring at you, you couldn't tell if he was eyeing you off or judging you; but either way it looked like he was about to eat you. You felt your face heat up, your crush sitting meters across from you, in your house. It was unreal.

The rest of the night dragged on, you watched a few movies and ordered pizza, none of you talking very much. Eventually Sam fell asleep so you got up off the couch to cover him with a blanket. As you passed Dean to pick up the blanket he finally spoke up. "So what classes do we have together?" He asked innocently. "What?" You asked startled. "When your dad was introducing us you said we have a few classes together. A beautiful girl like you, I'd remember. So I'm curious." You were stunned, there's no way he just said that. "Um I think English and history maybe." You answered, sitting back down besides the sleeping boy. "No wonder I haven't seen you." He laughed. "There's no way anyone could make me sit in the most boring classes of the day." You rolled your eyes, yeah sure they were tedious but you actually wanted to graduate. "So what do you do with all your spare time then? Surely not studying?" Now it was Dean's turn to blush, you had heard a few notorious stories about Dean and a certain janitor's closet. He just shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Ever since that night Dean started showing up to his English and history classes, and not only showing up but coming in early to make sure he had the seat beside you. During breaks he would find you out by the football field and join you for lunch. You had so much in common, not just your unstable life as a hunter's kid but same taste in music and cars. It felt like you finally met your soulmate.

Eight months later it was time for the Winchester's to move on. The longest they had stayed anywhere (thanks to Dean) but John wouldn't be delayed any longer, he had a lead two states away and was determined to follow it. The night before he left, Dean snuck in through your window to say goodbye. Gifting you a dainty necklace adorned with your birthstone - you didn't even realise Dean knew what a birthstone was! "What's this for Dean? So my heart can break everytime I put it on?" You ask, looking up at the boy with tears in your eyes. He takes your left hand, running his thumb over your knuckles comfortingly. "No, this isn't goodbye forever, just for now. Just until dad ganks this son of a bitch and then I can come and see you again. I promise. Just wanted to get something for my favourite girl." He leant down to place a kiss on the top of your head. Wrapping your arms around him you pulled him in for the tightest hug you could muster. "I don't believe you, but I still love you." You chuckle against his chest. You feel his heart skip a beat, pausing before he replies "I love you too."

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

It didn't take long after graduating high school for you to fall into the hunter's life. After spending your senior year fighting with your dad about the future, you did exactly what he expected and gave in. He had taught you how to hunt from the age you could hold a shotgun.

It was the reason your mum left.

Although you were fulfilling your destiny of becoming a hunter, you refused to hunt with him. After a particularly explosive fight you called your boyfriend. Dean knew about your daily arguments but he also could feel that this one was different. This fight was bad enough, pushed you far enough to call him crying and begging to meet him wherever he was. Dean was currently hunting a vampire nest with John only a six hour drive from you. The minute your phone lit up with an address you jumped in your car and sped off. Not looking back for a second.

"She's on her way." Dean announced to John, shoving his phone back into his pocket. John sighed in response "she'll get her anger out on this hunt then she'll drive right back home. Don't expect her to stay with us. Even if she wants to, the answer's no." He said solemnly. "I don't think so, this is different. She hates this life, so it'd have to be really bad." John nodded not looking up from his paper. He tolerated yours and Dean's relationship. He had nothing against you personally, he just didn't believe you could be in a relationship and live their life. He would put up with you for as long as it took you to realise that and run off to find someone stable.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

That was almost four years ago. Since then you had joined the Winchester family on most of their hunts, surprising John with not only how well you could research and retain lore information but also how quick you were in a fight.

You had begun to grow close to Sam, he was like your best friend and the little brother you never had. When you were left alone to research he would often confide in you his feelings and dreams for the future.

One evening Dean returned to the motel alone, John abandoned him for a dive bar down the road, to you and Sam asleep on the couch. Your head resting atop his, your hoodie covering the younger boy from the chill in the air. Dean adored how you loved Sammy, how you both got along and you took care of him. He kissed your cheek and noticed how cold you were. Removing his eather jacket and gently placing it around your shoulders before settling into bed for the night. He didn't dare wake the two of you.

Over the years, you had the privilege of watching Sam grow into a young man and live out his dream of leaving the hunting life for college. The weekend before he left he made sure to visit you to say goodbye. Hugging you goodbye and making sure you had his new number but not before making you promise you wouldn't give it to Dean or John. "Cross my heart. I'll take this phone number to my grave along with every embarrassing crush you've told me about." You giggled, making an x across your heart. "Okay, okay, thank you. I just want to start over and I can't if they're trying to track me down." He smiled sadly. You looked up at Sam (he had now grown 10 feet tall and towered over you) "I get it but I can't promise they won't try to track you down anyways." You shrugged before giving the boy one final hug goodbye. "Good luck little Sammy." You joked as he left for good.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Ever since Sam left things had become tense among the Winchesters. Well, more tense than they already were. John was more irritable, it seemed like he would take his sadness and frustration out on you, yelling at the smallest mistakes or refusing to give you details on their next hunt. Dean was torn, it was wearing him down, trying to deal with his brother leaving and his father and girlfriend fighting. You had had enough and had thoughts about leaving for awhile, just taking a few solo hunts away from John until things cooled down - you really wished you could steal Dean away as well but that would make things so much worse.

"-absolutely not! You go out there and do what needs to be done Dean. This has been going on for far too long and you know it." You heard John shout from inside his and Dean's motel room. "You don't know what you're talking about, she's the best damn hunter we've ever worked with." Dean responded, sounding just as furious. You hesitated going inside. You were going to tell Dean about your plan to give John some space but now, now they were fighting about you. You took a step back, you couldn't just leave without saying goodbye, so you waited. Anxiously twisting the birthstone around your neck your back against the wall, you waited for the screaming match to be over.

"She's bad news, always has been. Just like her damn father Dean. You can't keep dragging her around, it ain't fair." "I love her. " Dean growled. "You wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face." And with that the motel door flung open to reveal a furious Dean.

Tears stung your eyes, threatening to overflow. "How much of that did you hear?" Dean asked. "Enough." Dean took a deep breath and led you away from the motel door. "Look, I'm sorry. Honestly I never wanted you to hear that fight. But there's something I gotta say." Your breath caught in your throat, it felt like you were going to puke. You couldn't say anything back, so you just waited for him to go on, "I-Jesus-I can't do this anymore." He chokes out. "We need to break up." Tears pour down your cheeks silently. "We need to? Or John wants us to?" You seethe. "We need to. It's not fair, you never wanted this life. I know what you wanted, you truly want what Sam left for. An apple pie life. You could still go to College, meet someone normal. I can't, no I won't, keep bringing you down like this." His voice raises. "Seriously? After everything. You're giving in?" Nothing. Dean stands there, looking like a lost puppy. "Fine, I'll leave, I know when I'm not wanted. But before I go, I hope you're aware you sound just like John now. Congratulations." You whip around and walk as fast as your legs will take you to your car. Speeding off down the highway, making sure to stick your middle finger out the window for Dean to see.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

currently writing a part 2

[dokidokitsuna]

The Lord of All That Was, Ruler of the Forbidden Land, Lost King of Redgar– Fecto Elfilis: A legendary beast from ancient times, long before the Dream Kingdom or even the rise of Void Termina. Since its reign came to an end, a small remnant of it survived deep underground, tended to by the dwindling population of its people…but the invention of Dream Magic has granted it strength, and with the help of a certain Nightmare Wizard, it returns to its former glory, setting its sights on the Dream Kingdom…

The Meta-Knight (Vessel Gamma): The secondary body of the Meta-Knight, only seen once or twice every hundred years, when the Dream Kingdom is in dire straits. This vessel is heavily modified for speed and power, as well as increased loyalty to the kingdom and all its subjects– although it is physically incapable of speech or smiling, it tries to be as friendly as it can during its very brief missions.

~~

So now you know why Elfilin is a lizard in this AU: so Fecto Elfilis can be a cool dragon. ^^ Simple as that.

I probably need to explain how the Meta-Knight works, though: so it’s really the quintessential example of a Dreamwrought being, taken and reshaped by generations of dream-mages…to the point where the original dreamer’s mind is now more of an abstract concept, part of Dream Magic itself. Thus, it’s become just another parameter, which can be adjusted to fit the requirements of each Meta-Knight vessel. In this respect, the different vessels are like ‘filters’, through which certain parts of that mind are allowed to enter: usually just enough to keep its sense of self stable and offer it a rudimentary intelligence. Vessel Alpha, the one you’re already familiar with, definitely has the widest filter– it doesn’t have much of an identity or a desire to do anything, but it’s at least allowed to think, and draw its own conclusions from the parts of its mind it can access. Vessel Gamma, on the other hand…even if it could talk, it probably wouldn’t have much to say. ^^; Its filter is very narrow, really only allowing it to “recognize friend” and “kill enemy”, and the only emotion it can feel is happiness– either that, or complete neutrality.

I like to think it’s designed that way both to make it easy to control (as an extremely dangerous living weapon) and to prevent it from going nuts in such an uncomfortable alien body. ^^; Yeah, the Ministry could probably just torture it into submission, but literally removing its ability to think “SOMETHING IS HORRIBLY WRONG WITH ME” would help speed that process up a lot. 👍

[velmashaircut]

I played Caleb's route and myth a while ago and here are my thoughts/ theories/ predictions about him and the story (long af):

I reread my prediction post I made a month ago about Caleb, and I feel bad for painting him as some sort of villain. This man has been through the ringer, I thought the other LI's had it bad, Caleb somehow has it worse, he's been through so much and this is just in one lifetime. I both anticipate and dread his second myth, although the story will be good, it'll also be sad af

His main story branch update was the best of the main story in my opinion. I found it really engaging, not that the other chapters suck or anything. The same goes for his myth story; it felt like a continuation from the main story and the plot of the myth was enjoyable. If you want to understand Caleb and what's going on with him, read his myth! I would say his myth story is one of the best in the game.

MC's emotions and inner conflict were executed perfectly in this story branch. The emotion in MC’s voice when she’s face to face with Caleb was so touching, and the way she hugged him as soon as she could...it was sweet, her VA did a great job depicting her emotions! I really liked seeing MC so overjoyed to see an LI; in her initial meetings with LI’s she's either annoyed or neutral, so seeing her over the moon to be reunited with Caleb was refreshing and just solidified how deep their bond runs. Caleb naturally has an advantage compared to the other LI's in that sense, in this timeline, even if MC doesn't love Caleb, she'll always be warmer to him and he'll be her first choice.

Playing the main story and witnessing MC’s joy to be reunited with Caleb slowly turn into suspicion and eventually morph into frustration and anger was so good to read. The player and MC both bare witness to Caleb's transformation in character and it's heart wrenching to discover, both the MC and player don't fully understand what's going on to cause this switch in behaviour.

The ending for the main story was very solemn; MC failed her mission, Kevi was taken away and Mia died. Her short reunion with Caleb turns bittersweet. I thought that would be the end, but then it was revealed Caleb's been tangled in EVER's schemes and Caleb is making himself look like the perfect weapon to spare MC from this fate - he’s trading his life so she can keep hers. And his myth ending makes this all the more heart wrenching - the chip has taken away most of his memories, and he's doing whatever he can to preserve the memories he has of MC not only to keep his sense of self, but to still resist EVER's control of him.

Despite the lack of transparency and control Caleb exercised over MC’s life, I didn’t think he went too out of line. Caleb seems to believe he needs to amass power to protect MC and himself, Tainted Cuts seems to prove this ideology. Skyhaven is dangerous and Caleb knows it; despite being influential, he can't control over Skyhaven the way Sylus does with the N109 zone, he has to keep MC under lock and key to ensure she's out of harms way. He knows there are people after her, he works for them! He's not safe either. And in the end, Caleb was proven right to keep her under surveillances; MC nearly died twice in Skyhaven. When MC and Caleb get into an argument towards the end of the story, and she says she doesn't need his protection, instead of possession I think he felt more frenzied despair. He knows what lurks ahead, and he knows he can't hide her away forever and protect her from the danger.

...

In my theory post about Caleb, I suggested Caleb orchestrated the explosion, clearly that was not the case. I still think he wasn't clueless about what was going on behind the scenes though, his behaviour was still weird before the explosion. Unlike MC he remembers the past experimentation - I wouldn't be surprised if he was keeping tabs on EVER in case they made a reappearance in their lives. I used to think he didn't like the granny because of this, but I've changed my mind. He arranged for her to be moved to a nursing home that was remote and of good quality, he was remorseful when he told MC he couldn't save her in the explosion. Maybe he grew to forgive her for her past experimentation, or was just glad she gave them a roof over their heads.

I also believe Caleb failed to save Grandma in the explosion because he instead chose to protect MC. That could explain why his necklace was left behind. I also think the explosion was meant to target all three of them, kill the granny and take MC and Caleb back to EVER headquarters, but Caleb somehow managed to prevent them from taking MC. Or they were after MC only and Caleb convinced the raincoats to take him instead. It tracks with Caleb's intentions to have EVER focus on him rather than MC.

My theory post was mainly wrong, but I was right about one thing; Caleb wants to return to a place where it felt as if it was only himself and MC in the world; the secret/ abandoned garden he visits (in his mind?) at the end of his myth. In my post, I speculated this may be a reference to the Garden of Eden due to commissioned fanart of the game representing MC and Caleb with the forbidden fruit. Now I'm not so sure; What does the apple represent for MC and Caleb, their blurring relationship? And what about the serpent? I think it's no coincidence we meet Viper in this branch, who is some sort of snake cyborg...

I've seen speculate that this timeline is the first lifetime Caleb and MC have shared with one another, and as much as I like the theory, I disagree with it. The main reason being this:

I think this is how Caleb dies in the end of his next myth... question is what the hell happened for this to occur.

As well as that, Caleb and MC have the whole Adam and Eve thing going on, 100 years, space/nebula's surrounding their characters... the scene in the main story in which they watch the shooting star...that must link to a different timeline somehow. I personally believe in another lifetime, Caleb was banished from somewhere, maybe the heavens, or was sentenced to death, and MC decided to go down with him. I think this is a nice parallel to their current relationship, MC wants to be in the loop, wants to stand alongside Caleb, but he won't allow her to do so for her own sake, and instead shoulders everything on his own. Maybe he doesn't want to be the reason for her demise again. Whatever it is, like Zayne, I don't think Caleb has any recollection of their shared past.

Also, I believe Caleb surviving multiple instances of near death is no coincidence. He claims its because of MC, he needs to persevere to return to her... a part of me thinks he's being literal. Maybe he's been afflicted with some sort of curse, and he cannot die until MC does, or they are each others life source or something crazy like that.

Last but not least I want to say this: I hate EVER for what they did to Caleb. They have been fucking up his life since day one. Putting that chip in him and making him lose a part of himself was toooo much. I just mourn for Caleb now; he just wanted to fly and protect his loved ones, he was so beloved by those around him, and now he's been turned into a war machine. Free Caleb! If the 6th LI is the EVER ceo I'm throwing hands.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Its so funny u said this bc literally not even 2 minutes ago I was working on the fic.

It shall be out ,,, soon, ,, hopefully ,,, and when it does come out I will not so subtly use it as my vessel to expand on so much fucking warring states clan lore. You people will NOT know what hit u. (Me with a giant lore shaped hammer)

Anyways the evolution (or potential evolution, anyways. It exists in my mind) of the civillian perspective of shinobi and relationship between both groups throughout the years fascinates me.

Before the shinobi villages were formed, clans tended to either keep to themselves, self isolating, or wormed their way into courts in order to recieve political backing and wealth, setting up behind the seats of various wealthy or powerful individuals to maintain their status quo

I'm going to use the Hatake and the Shiranui as am example here:

The Hatake are a good example of an isolated clan— they're nomadic, having lived out in the Iron Woods for some generations now. They grow their own foods, make most of their own tools, and take occasional (usually intimidation) jobs to make coin in order to pay taxes and buy the few things they don't make on their own.

Meanwhile, the Shiranui were a clan known for poison and seduction, living in the capital shacked up pretty tightly with multiple noble houses in Fire. They had a powerful presence in the capital, and worked closely with plenty of political factions and dirty, under the table deeds. Political shinobi, through and through

Both clans give your every man a very specific impression of shinobi. Wild and dangerous when left alone, or pretty and lethal when 'seduced' into the capital. Powerful, dangerous things that might be tools of nobles if treated right.

Sorry idk if this quite makes sense, I am filled with a few abstract thoughts I'm having trouble putting to page but like—

warring states shinobi had a mixed bag of reputations but in general were treated as shiny commodities by the upper ranks, and dangerous animals by lower ranks. And their isolation and infrequent dealings with most common people only helped to feed into that narrative.

And of course, being treated that way was a tool many shinobi would use. (The Shiranui in general, seemed to play into this 'trope' expected of them for their own gains)

And then they shinobi villages are made, and not only are the clan's forced to break away from their previous ways of life, but they're also suddenly in a lot closer proximity to your common every man civillian

There isnt quite as much mystique there; it isn't as much as a huge event to see them. You can find them easily, just by visiting their villages, and watch them live their lives

All of a sudden, shinobi become a bit less scary shadow monsters and a bit more... people. Still scary and violent, yes. There's still a ton of stigma surrounding them, to be clear! Just,,, not as much as before.

The commercialization of their services also impacts this— while before, it was probably a trial to commission a clan to do a job— something usually only nobles or people with connections and nnow-how could do —now there's an entire, easily accessable system to send a job to a village and get a shinobi of your own

I think I may have gotten a bit side tracked but just. Mmm. The evolution of how shinobi are seen by people. By the time Boruto comes around they're even more normalized (and even a little dismissed, with all the talk about how the "age of shinobi is over")

As shinobi become more normalized and accessable, their way of life becomes less shiny and mysterious. And this ofc impacts their own way of life in turn, as they heavily rely on people for buisness and the like

Or something

Ok so. Slams this on the table. Notes from an unrelated fic, doesn't matter rn.

BUT.

I wanna have a conversation about the potential in-world fetishization of shinobi (from civilians and particularly noble courts who may view them as a sort of status to hold) + specific shinobi clans (also from other shinobi)

I have no specific thoughts or direction for potential plot w this one, I just think it's interesting to think about.

Ummm the evolution of fetishization to romanticization aimed at clans from the warring states into more modern eras. With shinobi being slightly less sexualized and more romanticized as time passes (and they can be mistaken as more "civilized" due to formation of villages helping with the stigma of the clans constantly being at eachothers throats + the sudden broadening of how easy it is to hire shinobi for things making them more accessible/normalized)

Tales of a gutsy ninja and other books probably also helped the culture shift, shout out to my boy Jiriyah for that one, thank u king

Anyways. More animalistic clans getting the brunt of those who want to "tame" a shinobi. Meanwhile more ""normal"" clans are mistaken for more approachable because of it and then often recieve the brunt of actual approaches / propositions

There are groups of just. REALLY freaky civilians out there who have Thoughts(tm) and Ideas(tm) ab shinobi. Word of advice to said shinobi? Avoid them like the plague. Never turns out well.

But idk, like I said I have no specific thoughts I just find the concept interesting. The civilian perspective of shinobi is a fun thing to think ab, in all it's aspects

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

you have good opinions and you seem like a really cool person. thank you for being awesome on my dolphins post I appreciate it !

Thanks! The pleasure is all mine, ever since I was a child I’ve really liked dolphins and other whales. Even though my favourite animals are fish now, it annoys me to see people call them all sorts of horrid things and say they’re evil creatures with malice-filled hearts! It’s, first off, wrong, and second, shows a kind of lack of understanding about other species, how they experience the world and how they think. Because they certainly do not think like humans! And I hate how these things are used to compare one species to other species, to show how they are more good, or more evil. Even if animals fill a similar niche you cannot compare whole entire species on this ethics scale!??? They are DIFFERENT SPECIES and have evolved COMPLETELY DIFFERENTLY. Is a rabbit more good than a fox just because the fox kills the rabbit, and killing is ethically wrong? No? Exactly. This is just like fitness (biology), fitness can only be used to compare individuals of the same species, NOT whole species to each other. Doesn’t work that way!

Ah, anyway. I just don’t really like seeing people be weird about animals. Fortunately many people are not!

[sukibenders]

*taps mic* Celebrities do not owe you insight into their sexuality, nor do they have to define or abide by your standards of how they act regarding their sexuality. You do not know them personally enough to inspect their private lifestyle in such a way, and even if you did that behavior still isn't warranted. Just because celebrities are more known to the public, doesn't negate the fact that they are people with feelings and aspects of their lives that they might prefer to keep quiet about. Sexuality, in general, is an intimate thing, that everyone experiences and expresses differently, and having random strangers deny or question their queerness does more harm than good. Stop acting like you're entitled to it.

[buttercup-barf]

Under the cut are mostly self-insert doodles of decreasing quality. Again, not much directly tied to Team Fortress 2. Might as well toss these out while I have no access to my puter. Much yapping under the cut and in the tags incoming.

Another self-insert, this time less of a "here's me as a tenth class" and more of a "here's my game experiences translated into the class I would take the place of". The Cleaner. Although I guess they could still be wearing either suit. It doesn't matter that much.

That one Convict's Case taunt with Backup would be extremely funny, because the man would be on the verge of a breakdown (he does not want to go to jail so bad you have no idea). The second image- I owe no explanation. You know what I am. You see the pattern with my favourites.

The duality of the man. Resting face versus "just heard you express interest in religion/Russian folklore" face. He's not that hard to make friends with, when you pull him away from all the explosions.

Some doodles of trying to figure his face out. Unfortunately, the more I stare at him, the more I worry that he looks like A Certain Guy With The Last Name "Kazarin", and the fear of never being original in my life caught up to me.

Don't look at me, don't perceive me, I refuse to explain any of my actions to you.

[amoremagnificentbastard]

Tagged by @larvasmoon and @nyx-knox for this. I reblogged from the original because this got ... long. Sorry not sorry?

So one of the things you have to understand about Diana is that that woman lived and breathed the ocean pretty much her entire life until the mindflayers got her. Athkatla is right on the coast of the Trackless Sea. Diana could hear the breakers if she went to sleep with her window open -- and she did, quite often.

Baldur's Gate is 40 miles from the Sea of Swords.

And the sound of the Chionthar just isn't the same.

So. One day Shadowheart is visiting, and when Diana is out of earshot Astarion mentions his plan to take her to the coast for Lovers' Day. But Astarion being Astarion, he didn't really consider the details, and he doesn't have much of a plan beyond that. Shadowheart insists on helping Astarion acquire two Teleport scrolls, plus a shell from the coast to ensure that the first of the two spells puts Astarion and Diana right where they need to be.

And that's how Astarion manages to bring Diana and a little picnic to the coast without putting them both in danger. Lovers' Day even coincides with a full moon this year, so their outing is blessed with the full light of the Moonmaiden.

When Diana's finished crying (because yeah, this gesture is going to make her cry), Astarion has to wrangle her into eating first before she goes splashing into the water. So she does that, they share the bottle of wine he brought, and then he can't keep her out of the ocean anymore.

He grumbles about it being Alturiak and Diana's apparent desire to make herself sick, but there'll be a roaring fire when they get home. And if there's no one else on the beach and she's so very beautiful when she's dressed in nothing but the moonlight and the shining rivers of saltwater that course down her back when she emerges from the waves, well. It's Lovers' Day. Of course Astarion isn't going to waste an opportunity to make love to her on Lovers' Day.

That would be bad manners.

After a romp in the ocean they dry off. And then they go for another round on a nearby rock, and oh, he'll have to bring her to the coast again, because there's definitely something to be said for being utterly and completely engulfed in her with the sound of the waves overlapping with the sound of her sweet, sweet moans.

The moon is on its way below the horizon by the time Astarion finally brings himself to retrieve the second Teleport scroll and the ring he brought to ensure the spell will send them straight home. It works without a hitch.

Turns out Diana has a gift for him, too. Once they've warmed up she shyly presents him with a carved wooden box in which to keep his growing collection of threads and embroidery supplies. She's kind enough not to mention the lost needles she found when she accidentally sat on them.

"I know you like to choose your own tools," she says quietly as he inspects the carvings. "I hope I'm not overstepping."

Astarion closes the lid and sets the box aside, so overcome with adoration at her quiet support of this hobby of his -- this thing that doesn't support them, that for all intents and purposes is a useless waste of time, that he does simply because he can, because he has a choice and this is what he chooses -- that he can't find words. And of course Diana starts fumbling over her words, and gods, her expression says it all, how she thinks her gift is nothing compared to his little surprise outing.

So he gets to work kissing, caressing, loving that expression right off her face, until the only emotion left behind on her lovely firelit features is peace.

And here by the hearth on the evening of Lovers' Day with his lover in his arms, Astarion can't even snark about the cliché of it all.

Because he too is at peace.

No-pressure tagging @astarioffsimpmain, @aevallare, @spite-made-me, @denesmera, and @evverest!

💗💖💝 Love in Faerûn 💝💖💗

How will your Tav and their romance partner spend the Valentine's Day/Date? 💋❤️💋

Reblog this post with your Tav's Valentine 💘

And you can also tag your friends if you like 💕

I will tag: @aristenfromwarsaw , @pinkberrytea , @anacdoce , @yennefer-of-vengerbergs , @xxnashiraxx , @andromedaancunin

🌹💋🌹

[dream-sans-mogai]

Anyway, because I'm considered a bigger creator within the mogai community and I have a responsibility to address things given my bigger audience-

Please remember that Tumblr, especially LGBT Tumblr concerning discourse and intracommunity issues, is a hyper niche, reactive, violent, sensitive community with next to zero basis in reality at large and you should not take any of its opinions as absolute fact. Especially the mogai community's opinions.

A lot of people on mogai Tumblr talk big game with very clearly fake the-whole-bus-clapped stories about the real world concerning acceptance towards mspec monos, Neopronouns and Xenogenders and it's my job as an adult and guiding voice to remind people these experiences may happen but rarely do and you absolutely should not just tell random people you use purr/purrs pronouns or your a bi gaybian or you identify as Chronosian or other things like that because it's really fucking dangerous even in hyper progressive places like new york, cali and Detroit. It can be deadly in many many small towns, including ones in progressive states. Especially dangerous in non accepting states.

I don't say this to burst your bubble or ruin your hopeful world view but many stories of acceptance are fake, even if some are true, most of the community is underage and just cause your teacher may approve of your Soniccharic identity, doesn't mean they won't tell your transphobic parents. It's scary and dangerous out here for trans and gay people rn and I won't be one of the idiots who tell you to run and frolic with your Xenogender pins Infront of increasingly hostile transphobes. I want the younger gen z trans people to survive and I won't lie to you about the reality of the battle we all are staring down concerning project 2025.

Most of the people telling these stories live in progressive states and do not tell you about the failed times or exaggerate the acceptance they supposedly received. I'm telling you from the mouth of someone who grew up in a tiny town in South Ohio with less than 1,000 people, it's still just as dangerous as it was 10 years ago. I still get followed in my home town. I still get stares in my home town. My actual home town, a place I grew up in where people knew me as the gnc dyke for a good while in my last 2 years of school. Do not spread this shit around to everyone. Nex didn't think they would become a victim, Brianna didn't think she would be one of the unlucky ones, plenty of those we've lost did not think they would die in hate crimes. I almost died in two of the hate crimes I've experienced.

You need to be really fucking careful and although I love than Neopronouns and Xenogenders are becoming more accepted by the larger LGBT community, you need to be very very VERY careful about what you do, what you wear and who you tell what because word spreads fast in suburbia and hate spreads faster. You do not want to be wearing a pin the day some white cishet magat decides he's tired of the "pedophiles" and chooses you as the first victim because you were the first he saw. Don't hide who you are but Be. Fucking. Careful.

[aria0fgold]

The Flowerheart!

(purposely didn't colour in Feli's tie and Hal's glove, it's like they're subtly trying to match :3 while also seemingly missing a piece of one another). Honestly though, in regards to Hal's sexuality, he's like that one tweet: "I'm probably nonbinary but I have a job so idrc bout that rn." He's definitely queer, but he's too busy with getting in danger his job to even bother with that so he just gets the queer label!

Neither of them confessing orz... They love each other so much yet neither of them are confessing... Hal being overprotective of Feli but in a way where it isn't even all that known by anyone but Feli and her the people really close to them. Hal doing his job is half-wanting to keep their city safe and half-wanting to keep Feli from any harm. He aint letting anyone hurt her that's for sure.

Relationship chart is made by @bengallemon !

[pepprs]

genuinely so angry and scared im shaking. how many other times this week this month this year have i been exposed without knowing it. do people even tell each other anymore. it’s just so grim. it’s so fucking grim

[blorger]

I agree so very much. I didn't go into the subject too deeply because I didn't want to derail things but the way mental illness in general and the Longbottoms specifically are treated in the books is straight up disgusting.

The Thickey ward is nothing more than a glorified looney bin where a person with unremovable hair on their face is treated the same as both a depressed person and also someone with memory problems. These people have nothing in common, medically speaking, yet they're all there, being infantilised by the mediwitch and clearly abandoned by their loved ones.

The mediwitch even states that they see any improvement in a patient's condition as a happy bonus and not as an actual aim to work towards. No-one is getting cured there, the Thickey ward is where you leave undesirables to rot and the fact that Augusta lets two people who don't seem to pose any danger to themselves or other in there speaks volumes about her character.

We are told multiple times that Neville has a large family, why is no-one taking over the care of Frank and Alice so that they may live with dignity? Why is Augusta not doing anything other than visit them during holidays and talk down on them?

Also, yes, Alice clearly recognized Neville, where is Dumbledore getting his information from? Has HE ever bothered to visit them? Is he part of the mythologising effort? After all the Longbottoms are there because of him and his stupid Order.

(possibly) controversial opinion time: I honestly think that Draco wouldn't have been able to cast the Cruciatus on Harry when they fought in Myrtle's bathroom .

I admit freely that I'm an unrepentant Draco stan and therefore have rose tinted glasses permanently on when it comes to anything that involves him, 'tis but one of the burdens I have to carry in this wretched life, yet when I originally came upon this conclusion I believed I was being somewhat objective in my assessment.

To check if my theory holds as much water as I've always believed it does, I went looking through canon for clues. During my investigation I stumbled upon one confusing factoid after another so obviously I had to go and write this rambling essay about it; feast your eyes on this,

PART 1: THE CURSE

The Cruciatus curse, cast through the use of the word crucio (latin for "torture")* is considered to be one of the wizarding world's worst curses and is fittingly prohibited by law and placed in the "unforgivable" class together with Imperio and Avada Kedavra.

We first learn of its existence in book 4, thanks to a helpful demonstration courtesy of Barty Crouch jr. (cosplaying as Alastor "Mad Eye" Moody) as part of his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It's quite fitting that he's the one to make this introduction as Barty is what you'd call an expert. As a matter of fact, most of the information we receive on the Cruciatus curse comes by way of two veritable crucio savants, Barty Crouch jr. and Bellatrix Lestrange. As far as reliability goes, I'd say these two are truly top notch since they went to Azkaban for their use of that very curse in what is perhaps the most notable instance of Cruciatus in the books; I'm talking, of course, of the mind-breaking torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

The Longbottoms no doubt give us a very big indication of what happens to people subjected to the curse, even though theirs is an extreme case that doesn't reflect the average victim. Let us start our investigation into the Cruciatus with Harry's case instead since, in his dual role role as protagonist and main pov in the books , he can provide us with a firsthand account of the curse's effects. To quote Harry:

(from GoF, courtesy of Voldemort)

Fake Moody puts it plainly when he explains crucio's purpose as

(from GoF, Harry's first class with Barty is Eventful)

Fittingly for a universe where intent is perhaps the strongest component of any spell, the Cruciatus curse requires the caster to be in a very specific frame of mind. To quote Bellatrix:

(from OotP, Bella kinds takes it upon herself to teach harry about magic)

and I'm inclined to take her word on account of both her experience in the field and the fact that she is never contradicted.

Getting back to the ABCs of crucio, I will now take a brief moment to describe the effects of prolonged Cruciatus use through what we learn from its effects on Frank and Alice Longbottom.

The Longbottoms' condition is never explained to us in detail, all we have to go by comes to us by way of casual utterances from their friends, family and colleagues. Moody (the real one this time) gives us a very succinct recap on how we're supposed to feel about what happened to them:

(from OotP, Moody does a brief "where are they now?" on the OG members of the Order)

But what is this terrible condition that leads many characters to feel as though the Longbottoms life is not worth living?

They are mentally ill. That's it.

(seriously)

To quote Dumbledore:

(from GoF, Dumbledore divulges information that is not his to share)

This is treated like a Brave and Noble sacrifice, as they were tortured for an unusually long time because they refused to give informations on Voldemort's whereabouts to their tortures (the fact that they didn't have said information is treated as irrelevant)**. As Augusta Longbottom puts it:

(from OotP, spoiler alert, Augusta doesn't behave like she's proud)

The Longbottoms are called "insane" and "mad" by various characters so we can somewhat extrapolate from that that Cruciatus overuse leads to cognitive impairments of some kind. The medical consensus seems to be that the damage was done to them, whatever it is, is irreparable as they are kept in the Janus Thickey ward, the wizarding equivalent of an insane asylum***.

Since the use of Cruciatus leaves no physical signs and its only outcome manifests itself as unmeasurable pain on the target's part, it is often theorised that the Cruciatus works by acting on the victims' pain receptors. This, of course, is just speculation but the books do seem to indicate something to this effect.

*= brief latin intermission

"cruciatus" in not a conjugation of the verb "crucio" in the active form (as in "I'm torturing someone"). It is, however, a conjugation in the passive form (as in "i'm being tortured") and can be more or less translated to I/you/he/she/it am being tortured or I/you/he/she/it was being tortured or I/you/he/she/it will be tortured (so, like, the opposite of what you should name a torture curse).

"Crucio" IS a conjugation in the active form and it translates roughly to "I torture", though it's not the tense I'd use if I were to issue a torture command (like, I'd use the imperative, you know?)

latin intermission over

**= as an aside, the narrative glosses over the fact that Frank and Alice were tortured for basically no reason and there was nothing they could have done to avoid their fate.; we are supposed to view this as a noble sacrifice instead of the senseless tragedy it is and that grinds my gears greatly. Also, why does everyone seem so sure that this is what happened? As Dumbledore puts it, the post-torture Longbottoms were viewed as unreliable so we don't know this from them since they weren't even able to tell aurors who the culprits were and there had to be an investigation to ascertain that. From what we can gleam by wading through Dumbledore's pensieve memories, the Lestranges + Barty weren't exactly cooperative with the investigation so, again, why is everyone so sure of what happened?

***= I used the (outdated and tasteless) term "insane asylum" intentionally since the Thickey ward doesn't look to be in any way shape or form similar to mental wards, psychiatric hospitals or halfway houses; from the little we do see the magical world doesn't seem to be terribly up to date on mental health as a whole and I shudder to think what jkr herself thinks on the matter.

PART 2: SUCCESSFULLY CAST CRUCIOS

SInce its introduction during Goblet of Fire, we see and/or hear of the Cruciatus curse being successfully cast 12 times. Those are:

5 TIMES IN BOOK 4

done by Fake moody on a spider (for illustrative purposes)

done by Voldemort on Peter (as seen by Harry in a dream, punishment for incompetence)

done by the Imperiused Victor Krum on Cedric Diggory (during the third task of the triwizard tournament, Barty is the person who imperiused Krum)

done by Voldemort on Avery (right after his resurrection at the cemetery, punishment for the twin sins of disobedience and general unfaithfulness)

done by Voldemort on Harry (toying with Harry at the cemetery)

1 TIME IN BOOK 5

[Voldemort performs crucio on Sirius in the vision that brings Harry to dept. of mysteries but since that doesn't actually happen I'm not counting it ]

done by Bellatrix Lestrange on Neville (at the dept. of Mysteries, for funsies)

6 TIMES IN BOOK 7

[Aberforth recounts being crucio'd by Grindlewald decades before over a disagreement but I'm not counting it, just like I didn't count the crucio-ing of the Longbottoms, because it happens before book 1 nor is it witnessed by Harry ]

done by Draco on Thorfin Rowle (as witnessed by Harry in a vision, done under threat of crucio)

done by unknown Deatheaters on the Tonkses (happens off-page with the aim of getting information on Harry's whereabouts)*

done by Bellatrix on Hermione (at Malfoy Manor, with the aim of getting information on the sword of Gryffindor)

done by Voldemort on Ollivander (happens off-page, with the aim of getting information on wandlore)

done by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle on various Hogwarts students ( several instances condensed into one for lack of information, as recounted by Neville)

done by Harry on Amycus Carrow (during the battle of Hogwarts, because he spat in McGonagall's face)**

*= one would think that, since this event parallels the crucio-ing of the Longbottoms, it'd get more attention, and yet the event is told to us by Remus in a throwaway line.

**= I'm not even going into the OOC-ness of this moment. Plenty of people, far more eloquent than me, have written about the perversion of Harry's character that this moment represents, also I truly lack the words to describe my rage at this scene.

PART 3: UNSUCCESSFULLY CAST CRUCIOS

During the events of the books we witness almost as many unsuccessful Cruciatus undertakings as we do successful ones. These attempts are:

by Dolores Umbridge on Harry, for funsies (INTERRUPTED)

by Harry on Bellatrix Lestrange, in revenge for Sirius's death (INEFFECTIVE)

by Bellatrix on Harry immediately following his attempt (DODGED)

by Draco on Harry in Myrtle's bathroom, as part of the escalation of his fight with Harry (INCOMPLETE CASTING)

by Harry on Severus Snape following Dumbledore's death (BLOCKED)

by Amycus Carrow on Ginny, creepily* (DODGED)

by Vincent Crabbe on Harry in the room of hidden things (MISSED)

by Voldemort on "dead" Harry, to humiliate his corpse (INEFFECTIVE)

Taking the instances where the curse was dodged aside, I would like to focus on the occasions where the curse was ineffective.

Harry and Bellatrix's instance tells us a lot about the mechanisms of the curse as Bellatrix takes time out of her busy schedule to school Harry on the intricacies of torture. Harry has at this point in time just witnessed Sirius's murder and is being taunted and goaded by Bellatrix; this is how his emotional state at the time of casting is described:

Instead of the desired effect, however, the curse merely topples her.

Hatred, it seems, is not the emotion required to successfully cast a Cruciatus. As Bellatrix states immediately afterwards, the spell requires a degree of sadism on the caster's part.

The other mention of a failed casting comes right at the end of the books, when Voldemort crucios Harry's "corpse". The spell, just like in the instance described above, merely knocks Harry about, to the delight of onlookers. This is greatly implied to be because the wand Voldemort is using - the elder wand- recognises Harry as its true master and is therefore unwilling to truly harm him; In this case it's not the caster's will that is lacking but the wand's.

To close out this section, I would like to highlight Umbridge's attempt: after having captured Harry &co. in her office, she decides it's the perfect time to threaten unforgivables. As Harry stares defiantly at her, Umbridge states

and, relishing in the anticipation, goes about deciding where to cast until she's successfully distracted by Hermione. This is notable since it's the only instance in the books where a caster implies the possibility of somehow directing the curse. Umbridge is described as moving her wand over Harry's body and trying to decide on the most painful spot possible; since no-one else ever mentions the possibility of concentrating the Cruciatus on a particular body part it's unclear wether this is actually possible or if Umbridge is just an inexperienced torturer.

*= Amycus's words as he casts crucio are "you cant dance forever, pretty" since Ginny has been successfully evading him so far. I'm pointing this out because of the grossness on jkr's part of using attempted torture as an opportunity for telling us that Ginny is smoking hot. Also, in a "look how the tables have turned" moment, Amycus will, in a year's time, become Harry's only crucio victim

PART 4: INCONSISTENCIES

In going through the previous lists, a few inconsistencies appear:

Even though we've been told that intent is paramount when attempting the Cruciatus, an imperiused Viktor Krum is able to successfully cast the curse in book 4. In the same vein, Draco is able to crucio Thorfin Rowle even though he is shown to be unwilling to do so; somehow, being ordered or otherwise compelled fulfils the criteria of casting crucio. Harry, as he witnesses the scene form Voldemort's pov, recounts that

Even if we take into account the fact that Voldemort, who is directing the operation, is more than willing to crucio Rowle, neither Draco or (possibly) his wand are so why is he successful? How can one force oneself to crucio his fellow men if their will is lacking? This remains unclear.

Now we come to Draco and Harry's failed castings of the Cruciatus in book 6:

Draco is in the heat of battle as he duels Harry after he's been caught crying in Myrtle's bathroom (the horror), the scene is described as fast-paced and hectic:

Notice how Draco is able to get two thirds of the word out before he is hit by Harry's curse. Let's compare that with Harry's attempt on Snape, as he runs away from Hogwarts in the immediate aftermath of Dumbledore's "murder" (aka suicide by underling):

Notice how Harry is able to get an even smaller fraction of the word "crucio" out of his mouth than Draco yet somehow his curse was already partway formed and visible, twice: there needed to be something tangible in order for the curse to be blocked by Snape, and not did he succeed but he was also able to parry it. This is in direct contrast to Draco, who was saying the word with no visible effect. The inconsistency remains even if we take into account the possibility that one's ability to cast nonverbally could come into play, since Draco had just demonstrated his ability to cast without speaking not one minute before, during the bathroom duel:

Both Harry and Draco are shown casting non-verbally to great effect, even though under the strain of battle, yet only one of them is able to physicalise the curse.

[I'm not even going to go into the ridiculousness of Harry somehow being able to shout a four syllable word in the time it takes Draco to get one half of a two syllable word out. just know that the scene is not fleshed out terribly well in the book.]

PART 5: CONCLUSION

Even after going through all the books with a fine tooth comb I continue to find myself rock solid in my belief that Draco's crucio wouldn't have been in the least bit effective. Not only is there a lack of physical evidence of his intent, like there is with Harry in the same book, but I truly do not believe that Draco was in the right frame of mind.

Even taking Draco's demonstrable aversion to physical violence aside, there is no indication that Draco was anything other than furious at the time of the sectumsempra incident, which makes his situation similar to Harry's failed casting book 5.

The books tell us plainly that rage alone is not sufficient to cast the Cruciatus and we are shown by Draco's only actual crucio (and also Krum's) that at least someone needs to be in the right frame of mind in order for the curse to succeed, even if it's just the person directing the proceedings.

Of course, all of this is just speculation. Don't take my word as fact and feel free to come to your own conclusions, this essay mostly exists to demonstrate why I believe what I believe, though I hope it was an enjoyable read nonetheless.

xoxo

[screampied]

#BLOODLINE! s. ryōmen + c. kamo

☆ sum. when they’re both 10s but they’re also vampires. hungry blood-thirsty vampires who’ll stop at nothing to claim you. with how sweet you taste though, maybe humans aren’t so bad after all.

wc. 7.8k

warnings. fem! reader, thrēesomes, vampires! sukuna + choso, pwp, amateur's take on vampires, unprotected, cowgirl dp, manhandling, spīt-roasting, biting, dumbification, size kinks, fighting over you, brēeding kink, mentions of bloōd, implied marathons, fīngering, squīrting, pussydrunk men, cunnīlingus, hair pulling, choking, mistress kink, petnames.

➤ kinktober mlist!

this was crazy - no, this was insane.

not everyday do you have a century plus old vampire between your legs — a vampire who you were actually supposed to exterminate for a pricey reward that was held over his head. both heads. but oh, you were so screwed. not even three days in of getting your official vampire hunter license and you already failed.

rule number one stupid girl: never fuck the vampire. rule number two: never fuck the vampires, plural.

but, you had a scent on you. an alluring fresh scent that made the sukuna ryomen fall weak to his knees. the fragrant—whatever it was smelled very lush with a sprinkled spice of vanilla. it irked him badly, and what irked him the most was the simple fact that he was feeling quite . . parched.

he’s starved, and it’s been a while since he’s had a quenched thirst and satisfied appetite. vampires usually had it rough—especially sukuna, because he’d usually spend most of his years hibernating, and he could live without blood . . for a certain amount of years before he comes well, feral.

but that all changed until you came along, and long story short—here you were sprawled out over his throne with your legs wide open.

“woman,” he snarls, buried right between your thighs. sable honed claws gingerly caress against your skin before his long tongue drags itself out of your pudgy folds. “spread your cunt f’r me before i bite it off.”

“what if i’m into that?” you sheepishly hum, feeling a tear of sweat trickle down your quirked brow. but right as you let off your cheeky remark, a big hand swats at your sopping entrance hard, earning a whimper from your mouth. so wet, your squelches ring through his rusted victorian walls.

sukuna snarls at you, crimson ruby eyes boring into your soul practically before with a sobbing creak, his chamber door opens. the hinges were whining as it unbolts and peeked out was whom you assumed to the other vampire, kamo choso.

you did research on them both—especially choso.

even though both of them were classified as dangerous notorious special grades with huge bounties placed on each of their heads dead or alive, choso was worth far more. you always did want to know why though.

he’s even prettier than person. choso was dressed in nothing but dark toned yet elegant dim clothing. both of their styles were strictly victorian-esque. choso’s hair was slightly matted and down, flowing past his tense shoulders. as unkempt dark strands went through his eyes, it created an attractive a shaggy wolf cut look. “oh,” he timidly murmurs, his eyes averting toward sukuna then at you.

a human,

his heart started to race and he could feel the inside of his mouth salivate with a minuscule amount of water. choso openly stares for a lengthy amount of seconds before nibbling on his tongue with his fangs. with the way he scoffs under his breath and how his body language grows stiff — you can tell, he’s jealous.

“am i .. interrupting, sukuna?”

sukuna groans internally, his tongue still attached to your swollen clit. you were close—he knew it from the way your breathing patterns started to grow irregular and you were struggling to stay still. as your feeble fingers resume to spread your soddened folds further apart for him, he slurps you clean, making all sorts of sloppy noises leave from his think pink lips. “mhm,” and he gives his comrade a side eye. “c’mere, choso. greet our new meal—eh, special guest.”

choso’s gaze never leaves yours, and as he tucks his head underneath his cape, he kneels down beside sukuna. “h- hi,” he swallows thickly, trailing his bloodshot irises that dramatically dilated each second he spent staring at your body.

god, were you pretty.

“hi ch— fuck,” you moan, feeling sukuna’s fangs delicately brush near your cunt. it almost tickled but you weren’t laughing, and your thighs were on the verge of snapping shut. choso stands there, watching as his own whetted fangs dig into his pouty bottom lip. “choso, do you wanna try too?”

“can i?” he blurts eagerly, but he gets flustered the second he sees your lips curving into a soft smile. after all, embarrassment was always his best friend.

choso’s kneeled right beside sukuna and he has an almost scowl marinating against his facial features. with a grumpy glower, he’s watching his partner act so greedy. the pink haired vampire’s got a chin that’s just streaming with slick and he can’t help but pout.

it’s probably been decades since he—since they encountered a vampire hunter, and now you were here. not only that, but choso was the entire opposite of sukuna. he doesn’t know the first thing on how to please a woman. “i mean . . is it okay, miss?”

sukuna snickers, briefly breaking his lips away before strumming a fat thumb down your drooling slit. “tch. such a wuss,” and his reddened gaze meets yours as a sly smile twists across the crevices of his lips. “excuse him. he’s a bit, heh, inexperienced.”

“that’s not—” it was, and choso lets off a cute frustrated huff but his demeanor softens the moment you claw a hand through his slightly matted wolfcut. dozens of loose tresses twirl between your fingers and he lets off a quiet purr, leaning into your touch. “mhm,” and he looks up at you—then at your pretty swollen cunt that was just pulsing second after second.

so pretty, it almost looks like a flower. easily akin to a vanilla orchid—he found himself about to drool the more he stared. choso was just millimeters away from a single taste and he couldn’t help but moan once he abruptly got a strong whiff of your candied balmy scent.

“it’s okay,” you murmur, trailing your middle finger down his tender scalp. sukuna’s right beside him, rolling his eyes whilst licking his spit-slick lips. as you remain slouched on sukuna’s primeval throne—your legs sprawl out just a bit wider and you bite your lip. “give it a little kiss.”

“y- yes, miss,” choso utters, and your eyes flicker down toward his lips. perfectly shaped—they have somewhat of an almost natural pout as they purse together—rosy pink and quivering in anticipation.

as he moves his face closer between your legs, you let off a gasp once his plump wet lips gradually smooch against your clit. “hng,” he groans, the sap of your own slick stringing against his mouth. choso can’t help but sneak his tongue down your pulsating clit for a better taste and oh, the way his eyes rolled back. “s- so good.”

sukuna clicks his tongue, growing impatient as his sharpened claws dig into the thin wooly fabric of his burgundy-black cloak.

“that’s it—good, yeah,” you softly coo out, tightening your grip against his head just a little.

choso had no clue what he was doing and it was adorable. his tongue was just as long as sukuna’s, mirroring the same forked-like shape. the softly spiky texture makes you squirm and writhe, feeling pleasurable twinges surge all throughout every inch of your body.

“fuuckk,” you gasp, feeling him suck against your clit. it’s overly sensitive, and he moans, feeling you throb right in his mouth. “mhm, suck there. right there, baby.”

baby, he wasn’t used to such words of affection. petnames, what you might call it. choso’s pointed ears cutely twitch and his nose wrinkles the second his sucking steadily intensifies. “mpmh,” and you can feel him taking a few seconds to sniff against your cunt once more.

“he gets off to being praised,” sukuna huskily jabbers, watching choso turn absolutely pussy drunk within seconds. you could tell just from his expressions alone. that sly yet sleazy grin compressing near the corners of his mouth, hooded eyes and drooling profusely from the sides of his mouth—

yeah, he was entirely weak. weak for you.

as his tongue slowly massages its way between the cracked slit of your pussy, he feels your grip in his hair tighten. “does he?” you utter, and you can hear a shuddering breath leave from choso’s mouth.

he swallows thickly again, wondering when the part was gonna come. the part where you’d finish your job, your mission—out of all the vampire hunters he’s stumbled across, he’s never been between one’s legs . . let alone being spared.

but he wasn’t complaining, not at all.

“mhm,” the older vampire sukuna grumbles, teasingly wrapping a hand around choso’s broad neck. choso moans from his touch too, and sukuna brushes a thumb down the valley of his sensitive scalp. “he can’t help it. praise him once and he’ll finish right on the spo—”

“s.. sukuna,” choso glares, still having a mouth full of your cunt.

the squelches you made from each succulent suckle was quite loud, constantly reverberating through the ancient chamber walls. but oh, your taste was simply divine. unlike any cuisine he’s ever tried. choso would rate your pussy five stars if he could.

you’re so wet — sopping a pretty cascading stream that flows down his chiseled chin to where he’s literally just drowning in your cunt. choso was a quick learner though, despite having little to no experience.

a raw breath rips out of your lungs once you feel your thighs grow weak. his tongue extends a bit inside of your cunt, curling it’s way around and in zigzags to make your toes curl in surprising rapture.

“f- fuck, like that,” you whimper out, and suddenly a dark silhouette overshadows you. slowly, your eyes look up to see sukuna standing right over you with a cunning toothy leer.

your eyes rove down his dark cloak that covers his body entirely, although you couldn’t help but want to see more.

like mentioned before—you’ve done your research about them both. as a vampire hunter, it was well, required.

sukuna had to be over a few thousand years old with choso not that far from behind. “silly, silly woman,” he tsks with a taunting head shake.

sukuna cups your chin and you moan once choso’s hooked nose starts to brush up and down against your clit.

you meet the eyes of a blood-thirsty vampire who’s got the most smuggest grin you’ve ever seen. “you know,” his voice seductively pitches low, and the rough bass that smooths underneath his tone makes you feel a wave of butterflies swarm near the pit of your stomach. a thumb swipes against your glossed lips before he bends, getting right close to your face level. “usually, this is the part where you kill us, you know that, right?”

“i—know,” and for a second, you nearly let off a mewl once you feel choso’s fangs softly nip against your tender cunt.

you were throbbing heavily, and he’s just slobbering all over your entrance just to lap it right back up back with his tongue like the feral animal he was.

it was cute how conflicted you were — your eyes didn’t know where to look, whom to focus on, nothing. .

even so, as your back remains reclined back against the timber-made throne, your brows furrow. he’s right, moments ago you should have pulled out your stake or firearm, getting rid of them and collecting quite a delicious sum of bounty for both of their heads - dead or alive.

but, as the thought struck you — why, why didn’t you finish them off. what’s stopping you?

you didn’t know, and quite frankly, you didn’t care.

besides, it was technically only the first few days of your new job and something internally was screaming at you that this probably wasn’t your right field of expertise anyway.

and the fact that the ‘target’ you were supposed to eliminate was propped up between your legs was . . something.

hell, maybe it was even a sign.

“oh, i see,” sukuna huffs, sliding a thumb across your pursed lips, wanting your pout crease more. cute. “you want more, that right, stupid girl?” a rough voice purrs out to you, and he can see the pout starting to form over your lips once you give him a slow nod. “yeah, yeah you do,” and he looks down at choso who’s got his pretty flapping lashes closed, sliding a hand inside of his cloak.

he’s groaning against your cunt, stroking himself off and whimpering against your folds that sobbed for more. sukuna cups your chin, pressing your lips together. “i don’t speak nod. use those words, tell me what you want.”

“y.. you both,” and it comes out like a lewd broken whisper. by this point, you were shameless. it’s almost as if you were in a dream—maybe even a fan fiction.

as those fatal words leave from your lips, your eyes roll back once choso’s continuing to slurp against your cunt - savoring each honeyed drop of your juices. he’s still on his knees as his pointed ears twitch from each whine and mewl that pours away from your lips.

sukuna groans under his breath, feeling himself get hard as he takes a few occasional glances.

choso’s face was right up against your pussy, and he made sure to run and trace his tongue in every single spot that would make you sing out pretty ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’'s for him. he’s craved a good meal for the longest and the meal between your thighs was all that he really needed.

“greedy girl,” sukuna grouses, lightly squeezing your chin, making you give him your attention back. ruby red eyes flicker toward your exposed nude neck — such precious skin all out and on display, a vampire’s favorite part of the body.

the thoughts of imagining what you tasted like from just a single bite clogged his entire brain. just a single drink of you - just one would have him probably at your mercy - no, he had to focus.

sukuna shakes his head with an annoyed grunt, pressing his head against yours as you lied back. “both, huh? can you really handle that, princess?”

“yes—”

“look at me when you speak, girl,” and you feel an overwhelming increase of thumps in your heart once he’s only inches away from pressing his lips against yours.

the eye contact was brutal - sensual.

his eyes lock onto yours and it’s as if you’re staring directly at a pool of bloody scarlet jewels. you could honestly get lost in sukuna’s eyes. such irises never leave yours and you gulp, looking him right in the eye before watching choso starting to bite near your thighs. “repeat yourself, go on.”

with a shaky voice, you drag choso’s head closer between your thighs before whining once he glides his forked tongue against your throbbing pearly nub. “i want you both. p.. please, wan’ you both.”

and the last thing you’d expect was for them to be eating you out — at the same damn time.

both vampires were propped up between your legs as you’re spread open with the cutest expression plastered on your face.

god, this was fucked.

as two forked tongues flick and swipe against your clit, nibbling on your tender gummy flesh, you let off the most melodic whine. it rips straight out of your throat, bouncing off the century old walls. the texture of both tongues — you felt the plush spikes that run against their tastebuds, feeling sukuna hold your nub hostage with choso trapping his your pretty clit with his fangs.

“fuck, ‘m so c- close,” you’d whine out, staring at them both as they’re between your legs with hazy blown pupils. both of your hands fish through their hair, gasping heavily once they start to slurp nearly everything out of you at such at maddened pace.

it was one thing with teeth — but they had fangs, and they both made sure you felt the keen edges against your sopping cunt every single time.

“mmph,” choso mewls out, wrapping his mouth around your slick entrance. sukuna’s only a few kilometers apart, and the older vampire grunts once he tries to push him away. with pouty glossed lips, choso gives your clit a kiss before briefly departing. “ ‘kuna,” he huffs cutely, and you watch as his chin has an even shiner coat of your arousal racing down. “you’re bein’ greedy..”

“good,” sukuna jibes, and you whimper loudly once his long tongue trails further down. it stops right once it reaches your winking hole. it was so long, it located places you didn’t even know could be reached. a fluttering feeling settled inside the very pits of your stomach before he spits on your cunt.

it’s a rude ‘pft’ and you watch as a syrupy strand dribbles down onto your heat. choso’s lip quivers as he stares too, going back to touching himself.

he rarely touched himself — but when he did, it always felt heavenly. “cho,” he grouses, smearing a fat thumb against your cunt that’s soaking up the dribbling saliva. “clean her off for me.”

choso’s eyes widen. but he was too feral to reply, and as if his lips had a mind of it’s own, he leans in and let’s his mouth do the rest of the talking.

honey, your taste was almost equivalent to honey. choso whines against your clit as he drinks you clean, the soddened pure taste of you never departing from his tastebuds. he shamelessly laps up sukuna’s saliva that pours down your pudgy wet folds before softly thrusting his tongue in and out of your cunt.

“fuck,” you moan, feeling your legs starting to spasm. sukuna goes back between and they’re both latching their pink pointed tongues against your tender muscle. you even watch as their tongues touch, getting tangled together and all. choso grows flustered and sukuna’s for the same sly smile on his lips, teasingly licking near choso’s bottom lip before going back to your pussy.

squelch, you were so wet . . profusely drooling. with how wet you were, you were putting faucets to unruly shame.

your thighs were covered in various marks and as they both shared the same pussy drunk grin, that’s when you finally snap.

right when the tip of sukuna’s forked tongue rudely thwacks against your sweetened g-spot, you end up gushing out right away. it creeps up on you like a jump scare, hitting you like a truck, an inevitable wave that came crashing down without warning.

“fuck, ngh oh my god!” and as you’re coming undone on their tongues, you were holding in a breath you didn’t even know you had.

seconds later as you gradually let go, your tummy’s continuing to heave from each exhilarated pant leaving from your lungs. with hooded eyelids fluttering, you end up spraying a sweet amount of sap onto the bottoms of their chins. sukuna snickers and choso quietly gasps—

“my my,” sukuna hums, licking his tongue underneath his bottom lip, savoring the taste. “so the human’s a squirter also, interesting,” and you couldn’t my stop panting.

your orgasm was loud, and it rang through each of the ancient walls that were so old that they were on the verge of crumbling down after centuries of standing tall. your own voice nearly shatters the victorian mirrors as you leisurely succumb into awaited pleasure, releasing your grip from their heads. you glance down and see sukuna already staring at you, giving your cunt one final kiss. “cute, think i’ll take my time with you, princess.”

choso pouts, panting himself as his tongue licks near the crevice of his lips. “y.. you mean us, ‘kuna.”

sukuna rolls his eyes with a grimacing scowl. “eh, right.”

many moments later — once you’re lightly thrown on sukuna’s king sized bed, you gulp.

now you were fucked.

they were more hungrier than ever, especially choso. the taste of your sweet cunt still lingers and his mouth, on his tongue—and he only imagined how sweeter your sacred blood must be.

“choso, watch me,” sukuna gruffs, and you let him flip your body over. landing into the cushions with a soft ‘oof’ your cheek gets pressed against a velvet pillow. “humans are fragile, so you don’t wanna break ‘em too bad,” and you moan once his hand swats against your bare ass. the recoil makes your entire body tense and you chew on your lip, quietly wishing he’d spank you again.

you weren’t really wearing anything except for maybe a black skirt that was now torn to practical shreds and a blouse that was halfway raised toward the top. as sukuna shuffles a bit, he springs out his thick cock and oh, you could tell he was big just from hearing the stroking sounds from behind you.

he grunts, giving his veiny shaft a few ample pumps before aligning himself against your swollen entrance. “look at herrrr,” he purrs, spreading your cunt apart with two fingers as your ass arched upward.

you were still drenched with your panties clinging toward the gummed crevices of your thighs. right as he toys with your dilating clit, he can hear the sloshing sounds make it’s return before darkly chuckling. “eager, isn’t she choso? her pretty pussy’s tryin’ to talk back. how quaint.”

“sukuna,” choso pouts, pushing him off. “let me, i know how to—” and he pauses, his eyes intently gazing at your pulsing cunt.

he was still so hungry. he just wanted another taste. just one more slurp of your slick and he’ll be satisfied. his thirst would be quenched. choso shakes his head, letting off a shaky sigh. “i know how t- to fuck.”

“he doesn’t,” sukuna mouths to you in a cocky manner, getting in front of you.

the pink haired vampire stands near the edge of the bed, a hand cupping underneath your chin. “it’s okay, you can look,” he smugly says, feeling your eyes burn into his weighty length that’s standing tall.

the shadow that’s underneath it makes it appear even bigger, and oh, it’s not just big - it’s huge.

sukuna’s very thick with insane amounts of girth for days, and your eyes slowly flicker toward his pretty tip that’s swollen. spurts of pre-cum seeping from his frenulum and you can’t help but give his tip a few greeting kisses. he sucks his teeth at the audacity, wide jaw tightening at your tender touch. the more you stare, you notice he’s got a bit of pink hair that curls it way around his fat base, almost forming a bush.

it’s unintentionally attractive, and you even found yourself gawking at his shaggy happy trail too. “touch me more, woman,” he utters, as if he read your mind. his rough tone getting a bit softer. “go ‘head.”

as you wrap a hand around his cock, you can hear choso’s sweet whimpers in the background. “oh, my,” and his sweltering hot tip’s just ghosting against your yearning slick entrance. you let off a hum, teasingly wriggling your ass a bit just to get a reaction out of him and you did. “ugh,” he moans with an needy hiss following, sliding his flushed crownhead against your swallowing cunt. “kuna she’s gonna m- make me cum.”

“thought you said you knew how to fuck?” sukuna titters, ogling as you slowly bring your plump lips up to his shaft.

with a grumble, choso kisses his teeth. “shut up,” and as his dick aligns itself between your swollen folds, he lets off a breathy sigh. “fuuuck,” he could feel you wholly trying to swallow him as he eases his way inside.

right there, choso felt a chill run down his spine. you were warm inside, and it makes him gnaw a fang down his quivering lip once his lengthy inches rummages farther. “hng, ‘s so good, she’s so wet, ‘kuna,” he murmurs in a soft tone, his words that slide past his lips shaking from each breath.

hearing your own moans leave from your lips makes him harder. sukuna grunts, watching as you press another chaste kiss against his mushroomy tip.

lustrous strands of pre-cum stick against your lips and he groans, tight abs that hid within the inside of his cloak tensing right away. “that’s it, ‘s all yours, princess,” and a hand of his paws it’s way onto the top of your head. once his dick starts to slowly disappear in your mouth, he lets off a near growl. whitened fangs poke from the outer parts of his lip before he feels your moan vibrate against his shaft. “mhm, atta girl. get it wet, spit on it.”

“hah, ‘m not gonna last,” choso breathlessly huffs, and with his hands gripping on both sides of your waist, he’s starting up a pace. it’s a slow pace that you could keep up with in terms of rhythm, but fuck was he big too.

choso had just as much of girth as sukuna did, maybe even more.

he’s stretching you out with just a few beginning thrusts and your eyes already widen. “mpmh,” and as your mouth’s full, cheeks all puffed from storing sukuna’s cock inside, you pull it out to allow a bit of drool pout from your lips and onto his tip.

the vampire flashes you a wolffish smile as his fingers softly massage down your scalp, his claws gingerly stroking against your tresses. your back was arched to a sudden with your body slightly raised, facing sukuna whilst your rear was focusing purely on choso.

sukuna studies your body, your pretty face, your fluttering flapping lashes, your tight tight throat that’s making lewd noises every once in and while, but most importantly, he studies you.

it doesn’t take long before his fat cockhead starts to create ‘love’ taps against your uvula. your eyes widen and you let off a tiny gargle at feeling him reach the roof of your mouth within no time, clawing your own hands into his beefy thighs.

“such a tight ‘lil throat for a pretty human,” he grunts, feeling you pop out his cock to lap up the remnants of your saliva.

choso’s still plummeting into you from behind, giving you soft sensual strokes yet they soon turn rigorous and deep once he feels your ass slam into him. once your skin goes back against him, that was merely all it took for him to lose it. it makes his ears twitch even more—and he whimpers, falling on love with your cunt right away.

it’s sloppy. already, you’re starting to stick and glue against his chiseled pelvis each time you rut back into him. choso’s hips were downright filthy, and it only takes him a few minutes before he’s meticulously drilling into you at full speed. his cock’s precise, making sure to hunt and search through every part of your cunt with his aching tip.

“fuck,” he hisses, a sweaty palm of his giving your right ass cheek a squeeze. as he grabs a nice chunk of your ass, he can’t help but spank it.

but he feels bad afterwards so the sting shortly goes away once his palm caresses a few circles against your hot temple.

the recoil of your skin always mesmerized him - he found himself in a trance every time. simply put, you had him enticed.

choso moans again, feeling your warm body rock back into his at such an unsteady pace to where he’s stammering over his words. “s. . so pretty.”

“the inside of her mouth’s even prettier,” sukuna sneers, and with a loud ‘pop’, he removes his dick from out of your throat.

you pout, lolling out your tongue without him having to say anything and he hums in patent amusement. “ain’t that right, princess?” and with a whack, his fat meaty tip slaps against your pink tongue.

you moan, and he slaps his flushed cock against your tongue three more times just to hear you whine for him to finish. “fuckin’ hungry, are ya, ‘lil hunter? you didn’t care about bounties, you just cared about gettin’ your sloppy cunt wet, huh.”

“mmph—sukuna,” you mumble, your words nearly inaudible once he rubs his leaky tip against your lips. his tip’s so fat and swollen as a rosé color shades over it from top to bottom. just a few seconds of him being out of your mouth and you were already drooling for more - literally.

choso’s breathing starts to pick up the longer he’s giving you such rough pivotal thrusts. you could feel him practically humping his weak hips into you, and he’s sniffling because he can’t believe humans felt this good inside.

“aw, are you mad, little human?” sukuna gruffly mocks, tracing a thumb over your arched brow.

the scowl that indents between the corners of your lips was adorable. “heh, how spoiled you must be. fine. open your mouth again,” and he views as you quickly comply, sticking out your tongue with your hands grabbing your neglected breasts that hid beneath your bra. “good girl.”

this merely lasts for a century — not really, but it felt like it.

lightning like veins ran down sukuna’s cock and you felt them prod against your tongue, meanwhile choso’s almost hysterical once he ends up dumping ribbons of cum into you. early at that, and he’s never been more embarrassed.

choso fucks you for a long while, and it’s until his thrusts against you becomes insignificantly sloppy and he’s overflowed your cunt with ropes of searing hot cum. it’s so much that it dribbles down your thighs, spritzing all on your clit and gluing against your skin like paste.

“ngh, f- forgive me,” he’d whine, peering as sukuna’s finishing up himself.

with a feral growl, he’s fisting his cock just a few more times before it’s his turn to finish now. you got filled in both ways, and once the bitterly sweet taste of his seed mists into your mouth, you let off a moan. “good . . good girl,” choso rubs the back of his neck, trying to mimic sukuna’s praises he did on you earlier.

you’re still on all fours and your eyelashes flutter as he’s continuing to spill out such slimy amounts of cum. the taste has a bit of a sugary tang that makes your nose crinkle. “swallow,” the older vampire murmurs, a long black claw of his softly caressing the edge of your lip.

a few droplets dribble from the corners of your lips once you obey, moaning once you feel choso unhurriedly pull out. he’s slow, feeling his chest heave out with a heavy sigh as your cunt let’s out a loud ‘pop’ after he gradually takes it out of you.

his tip was throbbing, and as he stared at his own cum oozing out of your swollen pussy, he can’t help but run a finger down it. you feel yourself clenching around nothing now and you can’t help but pout.

“tch. where’s your manners, woman,” sukuna raises a pink slit brow, grabbing your chin. your lips still remain pouty due to how much he’s squeezing against your plump lips together and you let off a whimper.

crisp air sets against your bare ass and skin as you meet his carmine-red gaze. “you’re supposed to say ‘thank you’ for the meal. go on.”

“t . . thank you, ‘kuna,” you softly snivel, feeling yourself pulse the more choso runs his finger down your flabby folds. he’s touchy, his fingers felt hot and shocking like static - and the more he maneuvers tiny circles around your clit, the more you felt your knees starting to grow weaker again.

“hn.” is all he replies with, and just when you thought they were finished — they weren’t.

you said you wanted both of them, not just one but two. and you know what they always say, the more the merrier . . right?

but it’s a bit different when the ‘merrier’ involves two ancient cocks.

to say you got stretched to the very fullest was merely an understatement. they each took turns with you, round after round after fucking round . .

your legs felt practically nonexistent, and every time they’d dump a knot into your sweet cunt, you’d feel like you were about to burst. round after round after round, they’d coax out orgasms out of you like it was nothing—especially sukuna.

choso was the one whining in your ear, whining even louder than you sometimes. he couldn’t help it, especially with how good your pussy wrapped around his dick so freely. it was a feeling he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced—and if he did, it was a long long time ago anyway.

but now, you were preparing to take them both at the same time. the thrill of the thought alone makes your thighs shudder as sukuna’s sinking his thick cock into you. already, he feels you gaping and you can’t help but moan at the elastic stretch unfurling wider and wider. .

the pink haired vampire was propped behind you while choso’s lying flat back against the sofa. it’s a pretty view, and choso’s staring right into your eyes. your pretty eyes—he’s never been one to lust over a mere human, but it was just something about you. with you, it was different.

sukuna on the the other hand—he couldn’t really care less. he’s centuries old and it’s been what, a decades since he’s got laid? it was just who he was - but he wouldn’t mind keeping you around for a while.

for centuries, the two of them lived their tedious lives inside of what appeared to be some kind of abandoned castle—you actually ended up stumbling upon it in the forest by accident while looking for them. the vampires you were supposed to kill, and yet here you were, about to be double stuffed by both of them.

“nice ‘n easy you two. biiiig fuckin’ stretch,” sukuna gruffs, wrapping a big hand around his hardened cock.

it’s flushed and veiny from the rigid sides, florid from the crowned tip with a ruby shade as he’s still getting over his recent orgasm. you’re sopping, your cunt’s crying for more and the sloshes that sang out from your folds only grew louder the more he’s burying himself inside of your gummy pasty walls. “choso, you’re not gonna faint again, are ya?”

“s- shut up,” choso grumbles, a rosy tiny spraying a half part of his face. as choso aligns himself between your entrance also, he let’s off a low sigh at the welcoming squelch your pussy make.

‘pop’ and fuck, could he listen to that all day. just the sloppy noises you made—to him, that was music in itself. “god, ‘m still so sensitive, m- mistress.”

with a sheepish hum, you cup both sides of his face, speaking in a teasing tone. “mistress?”

“i—” choso pauses, a vermillion flush spraying over his entire face. fuck, his words slipped, and he’s felt that wave of embarrassed returning right away.

it was adorable though, and as you continue to bare around both of their cocks, he can’t help but lean into your tender touch. “i mean-”

“no, it’s okay,” you reassure him, moaning once your bare ass gets a swift rude swat from sukuna’s palm. within no time, you’re starting to move your hips again, feeling yourself get stuffed in all orifices.

your sheeny-slicked lips part into a gasping ‘o’ once you feel sukuna then rub a hand against your clit. “fuck,” you whine, and sukuna hisses himself once he feels your clingy grip around his cock tighten. his hips were sharp, and it doesn’t take long before you start to match his deranged rhythm. averting your eyes back toward choso who’s laid back so prettily on the bed underneath you, speak in a soft voice. “ ‘s okay, you can call me that.”

“yeah, cho. call the pretty girl ‘mistress’, heh.” sukuna derides.

with a cute grouse, choso glares at sukuna—but his expression quickly falters once you fall into his chest, slumping into his body. his tight sculptured abs that resembled a greek god peeks through his victorian inky cloak ghost against you and a bit of hair from his happy trail tickles against your tummy.

“shut . . up,” he grumbles at sukuna, but now it’s his turn to cup your face. “m- mistress,” and a thumb of his runs against your cheek.

sukuna groans from behind you both as he’s fucking you from behind—his deep pivotal strokes slowly weakening due to how sensitive he was. it almost stings, but with the way your cunt’s holding him hostage for all its worth, he just couldn’t stop.

“hm,” your eyes meet the dark haired vampire and his bottom lip quivers. just your stare alone was enough to drive him up the first street of insanity.

you’ve done quite your fair share amount of research on these two and what the media reports about them in the papers always shocks you. they typically always describe them as the ‘blood-thirsty duo’ monsters who would mercilessly tear limb from limb off of anyone who dares cross their path.

funnily enough, they said the most heinous things about choso in particular—but now that you were quite literally being filled with them both in each hole, choso was more sweet than anything. the papers described him as a ruthless blood-sucking vampire but he was the sweetest—especially whenever he’s overstimmed and whiny.

and sukuna . . he’s sukuna.

but you were still alive—so that was something, right?

“can . . may i,” and it takes you a moment to realize what he’s asking for.

choso wants to kiss you, and you can tell by the way his big wide eyes continue to flicker toward your own eyes, then back toward your glossed plump lips. he wanted a taste, he needed it.

“y- yeah,” you moan, feeling sukuna’s heavy cock reach an even deeper angle inside of you. you’re taking them both, feeling your entire legs get weaker by the second but that feeling suddenly disintegrates once choso presses his lips onto yours.

it’s a sultry hot kiss. a kiss that he’s been longing to do ever since he walked in on you and sukuna. choso’s forked tongue delves more into your mouth as you’re riding him with sukuna guiding your hips in place.

it’s sloppy, and he’s been pathetically aching for more of a taste from you for the longest. choso wasn’t fond of sharing you with sukuna—he wished it was you and him, but he couldn’t complain. at least he wasn’t going to complain yet.

“mmh,” you moan into his mouth, feeling his scarred hands softly caress near your breasts that poke through your bra. choso whines, nipping at your tongue with his serrated-sharp fangs before he lets off a gasp.

“ngh, oh fuck,” choso whimpers between your lips and deprived kisses. his arms end up enveloping around your waist, holding you close as sukuna’s driving his cock into you as such a crazed speed from behind.

as your lashes stick together briefly — they flutter shut before opening again. glancing up with droopy eyes, you watch as choso’s currently grabbing onto the wooden creaking headboard, a plethora of veins bulging down his swole biceps.

sukuna grunts behind your ear and within seconds later, he’s taking a playful harmless chomp out of your left shoulder blade.

your skin - so sweet, and his pronged tongue swirls its way around the fang marks that starts to form before choso ends up cumming early again.

“fuck, fuck,” choso whines, feeling his chest tighten. your pussy had them both weak, especially with choso more than anything, because he fills you up with another knot that exudes its way deep inside. it shoots out fast, pouring into you before a few remnants trickle down the crevices of your inner thighs.

your deadened legs struggle to stay open and he brings another needy wet kiss to your lips before he starts panting. “i- i need, need more,” and his eyes stare at your neck. “please, just a taste.”

“wait your turn, choso,” sukuna snarls, pulling you back to sink his fangs further into your skin. oh, they were fighting over you. choso lets off a cute huff before ignoring sukuna, glancing at you.

his eyes and pouty quivering lips were telling you ‘please’, and as you continued to slowly jerk your hips against them both, you let off a soft bashful, “g. . go ahead.”

but choso’s still cumming too—his ropes of cum was so sweet and came out so smoothly that it’s like he was pouring molasses of syrupy ribbons into you.

within a blink of an eye, it pumps into you raw, and choso nearly loses it once his fangs pierce down into the right side of your neck. “ah,” he whimpers, hot breath fanning against your skin. softly, his sharp fangs delicately nip into your sweet toothsome skin and it feels like a tiny prick.

you moan as you’re barely moving anymore, but they’re both still very deep inside, keeping each sloppy aperture of yours very, very busy.

“so dramatic,” sukuna rolls his eyes, a feeling of jealousy washing over him. you’re squeezing around him tight and he groans, clawing a few fingers toward your chest and unclasping your bra.

with hungry claret eyes that favors the color of rich red wine, he openly gawks as your breasts spring free and he gingerly pinches one of your perked nipples. “look at these girls, so perfect,” and you moan at his touch.

choso on the other hand looked so pretty. he’s still enjoying his ‘meal’ and the second his fangs cut deep enough into your skin, he tastes that sprinkle of metallic sweetness before he ends up cumming again.

he’s cumming while he’s feeding off of you — drinking your lusciously appetizing blood, and he hasn’t had a fill as good as this in probably centuries.

it’s so good that his mouth was watering, and the vampire loses his momentum before slouching further back with his teeth still attached to your skin like velcro. a pout curls against his lips as he makes you grind back into him, feeling both cocks stretch you open even more. “mh,” he whimpers, honed edges of his fangs creating various marks. you couldn’t wait to look at it later.

sukuna’s still fondling your tits and cupping them with both side hands before he bites near the other side of your neck, showering the exposed part of your skin with a multitude of kisses.

“careful, princess. you’re gonna break him,” he whispers in a raspy tone, and a hand of his trails further down between your legs.

“s- shut up, suku— fuck,” choso whines, and it’s an even larger knot than before.

it’s hot before it pumps inside of you yet again, filling you to the very peak. creamy globs of it race down your thighs as his mouth’s still clinging onto your bare shoulder blade. your taste, it was so rich . . so succulent.

your taste was almost so overbearing that it makes the flustered vampire’s eyes roll all the back until it reaches his skull, and he’s now feeling his dick twitching sporadically inside of you. “mistress, fuck. i- ‘s so much inside of you, f . . forgive me.”

he ends up shooting a huge load inside that stirs the insides of your flittering tummy. you were sure some even reached deep into womb, you wouldn’t be surprised due to just how big they both were.

but even so, and you couldn’t help but ponder . . could vampires get humans pregnant?

you didn’t plan on it, but that reality of being stuffed full of each of them made your stomach churn with a pool of butterflies living inside, swarming all around and fluttering at just the lewd thought of it all. you were filled to the very max - the very brim, and it leaves you panting for more.

you all remain like that until sukuna finally pries you off of choso, crimson eyes gazing at the mess that spills between your thighs. “tsk. how filthy,” and you land on your back, staring up at the two vampires who share the same blood-lust gaze.

“spread ‘em again, princess. least we can do is clean ya up,” and he nudges choso who’s just lied flat against the bed, still in awe—starstruck.

your pussy probably did break him.

“choso. c’mere,” he snaps in his face, and the dark haired vampire blinks thrice, returning back to reality. he groans, sitting up with sheets of sweat racing down each sides of his face. “our girl need’s cleaning.”

“o- oh, right,” he quietly stammers, a bit of your blood from earlier staining his pink lips. a permanent pout remains on his mouth before he licks them clean, and he can’t help but lean in, giving you one more kiss.

your heart swoons, and as you return the embrace. milliseconds pass and you gradually start to feel sukuna spreading your legs, ogling at the mess they created, the mess that’s pumped into you fully.

velvety ribbons of cum racing down each of your thighs, you were still throbbing ferociously and you let off a moan once you swipe your tongue across choso’s lips, relishing in the taste of your own sweet irony blood.

as your tongues vigorously twirl around each, trying to assert dominance between each twisting muscle—you let off a whimper in choso’s mouth once you feel sukuna’s breath aerate against your clit.

without even batting an eye, he starts to lap the cum out between your puffy folds before he gives it one loooong suck. your chest automatically heaves in and out before your arms wrap around choso’s broad shoulders, tangling saliva strands together and creating lustrous sleek cobwebs.

but, as your lips were locked against choso, you feel something between your legs. sukuna gives your pussy one long sniff, then he does it again, and one more time before gifting it a pat. “oh. .”

choso nibbles at your bottom lip with his fangs before sukuna meanly spanks your cunt. a bit of your own slick sprays against his palm and he hums.

“choso,” he huskily says, teasingly pointing the end of his claw near your pulsating clit. it was hovering over your entrance . . and still, you let off a whimper at the sensitive feeling. “i think i know why our pretty girl smelled so good all this time.”

“huh,” the dark haired vampire briefly pulls away, panting heavily just as you. choso glances down at sukuna before feeling his chest cave in and out. “w . . why, sukuna?”

you look down at sukuna, your brows contorting into a curious look yourself.

sukuna gives your sopping cunt one long stare before giving it a kiss. “mwah,” and you moan, watching as wet strands peel away from your pudgy folds and glue back onto his mouth.

he’s sloppy, and he couldn’t care less. the vampire rubs a circle around your entrance before snickering darkly.

“because,” and he spanks your pussy once more time before playfully putting his fangs against your clit as if he was about to bite you. with a dull expression, sukuna leans in to smell between your legs one more time before whispering against your clit.

“—you’re ovulating, princess.”

[chuluoyi]

𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍

- sylus x reader

when your husband went away without so much as a proper notice, you thought you wouldn't forgive him so easily. but he tries everything to capture your heart back: spoiling and indulging you… little do you know that he expects a reward in return

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—rotten fluff, domestic bliss, explicit smut, cunnilingus, fingering, mating press, taking elements from sylus' card night of secrecy, secret times approaching dusk and spoilers! from myth beyond cloudfall

note: my first sylus x mc fic! with this i'm spreading the soft!sylus agenda and that spicy 4-star approaching dusk has destroyed me :') loosely based on this post

Sometimes, you do wonder... does Sylus really think you're that easy to placate?

On one chilly morning, you woke up only to discover your hunk of a husband gone... and in his side of the bed, a sticky note.

Your eyebrow twitched as you read the audacious message scrawled on it:

Hey, kitten. I need to leave for a few days. There are things I have to handle on my own. Take care of yourself while I’m away. I’ll come back soon.

That was it. No clear explanation, no further details. Just those vague words in such short notice. The day before, he’d seemed like his usual self, not a hint of this sudden departure in sight.

It irked you. It made your heart clench at the same time. Because even after marrying you, Sylus remained elusive, playing his cryptic games. It was beyond you how he didn't even stop to consider how you were left worrying about him while he drifted in and out of his dangerous world without a second thought.

You understood the reality of your lives—that you were a hunter and he was the Onychinus leader, and that to be with him meant you had to walk that fine gray line between light and dark.

And you'd already made your choice. You had accepted it—accepted him—wholly. Even when your marriage had been a rushed affair and registered under false names to protect both your identities.

Things couldn't go on like this. You had to teach him a lesson too.

As your irritation simmered into determination, a devious plan began to take shape in your mind—a way to spite him just enough to make your point crystal clear.

Two days later

Sylus was done with his dirty business faster than he thought, and to appease you, he had come bearing gifts.

The precious little thing that is now his wife, of course he missed you too. But your safety was a price he wasn’t willing to gamble. If going away to take care of those pests meant your peace would be unperturbed, then he would leave without hesitation.

However, as he stepped inside the base, his relief quickly turned to unease. The space was eerily empty, the usual hum of activity conspicuously absent.

Normally, you’d be at the center of some commotion, locked in a spat with either Mephisto, or Luke and Kieran. But now—

“What do we do?! She’s gone!”

Sylus immediately rushed to the source of the ruckus, thinking something bad had happened to you. He found his henchmen standing in a tight, anxious circle around the coffee table.

“What happened?” he demanded.

Without a word, they stepped aside, revealing the object of their concern: a single note lying on the table.

He snatched it up, scanning the words. Then, he let out a sharp exhale of relief, a smirk began tugging at the corners of his lips.

Catch me if you can.

Typical. Absolutely typical. And maddeningly you.

. . .

That night, you had a very strange dream, it felt almost felt like stepping into the pages of an ancient tale.

You were a fallen princess wrongfully accused as a sorceress, who began consorting with the fearsome fiend from the Abyss.

The sorceress and her dragon. Together, you were an infamous pair, a dark legend whispered across generations. Your union had ignited Doomsday itself... and yet, amidst the turmoil and destruction, the sorceress fell in love with the dragon... deeply and irrevocably.

The dragon, in turn, was utterly bewitched by his little witch. He indulged your every whim, no matter how mischievous or perilous, and though he rarely spoke of his true feelings, he always found ways to show his affection.

The lucid dream felt as though it might go on forever, but you were pulled from it by the soft brush of lips against your forehead. The warmth lingered, blurring the lines between dream and reality, until your eyes fluttered open.

“Sylus...?” His features, fresh from your dream, now materialized in your reality. It took you a few seconds to realize that he had come here—

“Morning, sweetie.” His voice was rich and smooth, with that familiar, mischievous edge. A smirk curled on his devilishly handsome face as he leaned in, garnet eyes gleaming with playful intent. “Caught you now, hmm?”

The haze of sleep vanished in an instant, and you were suddenly wide awake. In a flurry, you shoved him away and turned your back on him, trying to regain some semblance of control.

You’d left the N109 Zone for one of his safehouses in suburban Chansia City, thinking it would take him some effort to track you down. Clearly, you’d underestimated him.

“Oh. The kitten is in a bad mood, it seems.” Sylus’ gaze lingered on you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well, what do I owe the ire for?”

“...”

“Silent treatment, huh? The lady of the house is getting better at our little games while I was away.”

“...”

“Remember, sweetie, there’s no divorce in our relationship, hmm? If you’re tired of me, keep taking naps.”

You felt the weight shift as he rose from the bed and stalked away. The door clicked shut, leaving you in the silence of the room.

You wanted to resent him for coming and going on his terms, for never offering even an apology. Yet, no matter how much you tried, a part of you remained hopelessly tethered to him. The part that couldn’t ignore the reminder of the dragon from your dream—captivating, powerful, and infuriatingly hard to resist.

You love him, really you do.

. . .

When you didn’t come down for breakfast some time later, Sylus barged into the room once again, and this time he came up with a different approach.

“My lady,” he began, his voice sickeningly low and sweet, but his eyes gleamed with a touch of mischief. “You haven’t had breakfast yet. Please come down.”

You shot him a look, unamused, and decided to play his game as you crossed your arms together. “What if I don't want to?”

His smirk only grew, his tone dripping with mock formality. “And what must I do to change your mind?”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but notice his persistence. He had chased you here, given you more time to sleep in, and now stood before you to get you to eat. You felt your resolve beginning to soften—maybe just a little.

“Carry me there,” you said with a hint of defiance, lifting your chin high, daring him to follow through.

Sylus tilted his head, failing to restrain his snort. “As you wish, my lady.”

He placed his arms around you effortlessly, one hand beneath your knees and the other supporting your back, lifting you into a flawless princess carry. You instinctively put your arms around his neck, and he turned to you.

You opened your mouth, ready to fire off a sharp retort, but before you could, he dived in—

Smooch!

—and planted a bold, wet kiss on your lips. You, wide-eyed, punched his chest in retaliation. “Sylus!”

He chuckled, entirely unfazed. “Careful now, sweetie. Wiggle too much, and you’ll fall.”

He carried you downstairs, effortlessly navigating each step with you still in his arms. Once there, he gently set you down onto the dining chair, and that was when you noticed the table.

Salad, slightly burnt toast, scrambled eggs, milk—simple dishes by all means, but the thought the big, bad Sylus making them?

Wait. When you arrived last night, this place was a dusty shell, and the refrigerator had practically nothing—

“You cleaned the place?” you asked, your tone laced with surprise as your turned from the spotless room to him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Why is that so surprising? I can cook and clean just like everyone else.”

It sent a wave of warmth through your chest. He’d prepared food and cleaned the place knowing you’d be hungry and uncomfortable with dust all around.

You huffed, trying to hide how your heart fluttered. “No, your cooking skills are questionable at best.”

As if to prove you wrong, Sylus disappeared into the pantry and reemerged with a tray of warm, freshly baked dough that filled the room with a heavenly aroma.

“You are... baking?” You approached him, mystified at the sight of your husband, who usually at the scene of crime, behind the counter and started frosting the cupcakes.

He set the frosting bag down and picked up a cupcake, holding it to your lips with a teasing smile. “Here. Open up.”

Dutifully, you nibbled on the cupcake, and the sweetness immediately spread into your mouth. “It's tasty,” you mumbled, blinking at him. His eyes crinkled with satisfaction as he gestured toward the tray.

“Go have some more.”

Grinning, you grabbed another cupcake and eagerly took a bite. Munching away, you missed how Sylus’ gaze softened, his bright red eyes focused solely on you.

He couldn't resist pinching your full cheeks at that moment.

“Sy-wus!” you protested, glaring at him. His laughter broke free that instant, warm and unrestrained.

Utterly funny, utterly precious—that’s what you were to him.

Indignant, you scooped up some icing from the cupcake and smeared it right across his face. The stunned look he gave you was priceless, and before he could react, you burst into a fit of giggles and bolted out of the kitchen.

But as you reached the base of the stairs, a strong arm caught your waist from behind, halting your escape. You squealed in surprise, “Noooo!”

Sylus leaned closer and pressed you to his chest, his voice rumbling in your ear. “Ha. Did you really think you could get away that easily?”

He lifted you up with one arm and brought you back to the kitchen, setting you down on the counter and trapping you in place with his arms braced on either side. His eyes sparkled with mirth as he leaned in, and with a grin, he bumped his frosting-smeared nose against yours, leaving a sticky smudge.

“This is unfair!” you protested, still caught in a fit of giggles as you looped your arms around his neck for balance. Sylus chuckled along with you, his gaze steady and warm, never leaving yours.

Being with Sylus in the kitchen like this, savoring simple meals and smearing each other with frosting, it made you realize that you craved this domestic bliss more than you thought.

As the laughter subsided and you both settled into the quiet, your expression softened, all your previous grievances forgotten. The tenderness in your eyes said everything you didn’t need words for, and Sylus could see it clearly—you adored him, just as much as he adored you.

The one who gazed into his jewel-like eyes, embraced his burning soul and sang to him in the night wind... is once again in his arms. A part of him was almost sentimental at the thought.

Instinctively, he closed the distance between you, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. But as they were about to meet, he paused, as if hesitating, leaving you puzzled.

Then, without a second thought—

To hell with it.

You chose to abandon all senses. You seized the moment—yanking him to you and capturing his lips, claiming him for yourself.

“…!” Suck, suck, bite, suck— You were relentless, and you didn't really know why. At first, even he was taken aback, but then his hand slipped behind your head, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in an intoxicating rhythm.

“Mmm...” You sneakily began to undo the buttons of his shirt one by one, your fingertips grazing his warm skin with each deliberate motion. Feeling it, Sylus broke the kiss just enough to smirk, his voice husky. “Getting bold, aren’t we?”

But before you could respond, his hands trailed down your sides, firmly pulling you closer, leaving no space between the two of you. His gaze burned with desire, as if daring you to keep going.

Then, without warning, his lips began their descent, grazing your jaw softly before trailing down to your neck and chest, leaving a trail of warmth and shivers across your skin. The feeling was intoxicating, even as his hair tickled you, making it hard to focus on anything but him.

“Ahh,” you couldn’t help but sigh, pressing him closer.

His lips left wet marks on your neck, and he whispered, “Now tell me... what made you so upset that you left home?”

When you didn't answer right away, one of his hand slid beneath your blouse, unhooking your bra and grazed your skin—

“You... keep coming and going as you please...” you stammered, feeling him begin to cup and squeeze your breasts, your breath growing erratic.

Sylus bit down on the skin at the nape of your neck, and you almost gasped.

“It's almost as if— Mmm—” The way he fondled your chest made the space between your legs grow warmer. “—you wouldn’t... miss m-me at all...”

How untrue. He stopped his ministrations, and the steel behind those eyes you loved so much met your gaze once again.

His wife was a mess of sweat already. He swiftly hooked your thighs around his waist and claimed your lips once more. With effortless movement, Sylus guided you to the long recliner in the room, laying you down there, still lost in the heat of the kiss. His hand intertwined with yours, pinning you to the soft surface.

“So...” he rasped, breathless against your lips, “You’re upset that I didn't miss you when I was away...”

His other hand worked to unzip your skirt. “But don’t you know? I... was worried about my wife getting into trouble when I wasn’t with her too... That’s why I was in a hurry to go home...”

Sylus pulled away, both of you panting for air, and he took a moment to savor the sight of your glazed eyes.

“But then I couldn't find her anywhere.” His voice was low and taunting, trailing his fingers on your belly. “I made it back as soon as I could, just like I told you and you are the one who misbehaved... Don’t you think I deserve something as a compensation?”

It took you three solid seconds to realize that the lower half of your body was now exposed. Your husband parted your legs and settled his face between them, pressing a kiss on your knee.

“So I believe at the very least... I deserve this.”

He dived straight for your clit then and you let out a loud gasp.

“Ngh! Aaah...!” You let out incoherent moans as he devoured your folds, lost in the cloudy haze of pleasure. It didn’t take long to unravel you at all.

“Mmnh—!” Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head. Ticklish, hot, wet— all in all, it felt like a sin, but you just had to get this heavenly taste. “…a-ah!”

Sylus felt how you were this close to get your orgasm, so he moved faster, licking and sucking your clit, while adding a couple of fingers to bring you to the peak faster. You unconsciously moved your hips against his face— too far gone to be thinking anything else, grasping the leather of the sofa and pulling his hair—

“Ahh— S-Sylus!” And then you came hard, screaming his name, feeling how much it was— were you squirting?

You didn't know, didn't care either, as it was the sight of his ruby eyes that grounded you. You were spent, spread on the sofa (most probably ruined it, even), your chest heaving to catch your breath.

Sylus let out a low rumble as he wiped your juices off his lips with a thumb and tasted it, looking so sinfully sexy like a forbidden fruit while at it.

“You said... I wouldn't miss you.” He traced one finger on your face with such tenderness. “Now, I'm going to show you, and you'll be judge of it. Are you sure you don't want me to stop?”

If you said no, he would comply. That was the kind of person he was and you knew it. Sylus had always looked out for you since the very beginning, no matter how nonchalant he made himself to be.

“No.” You met his eyes, your voice steady. “Show me.”

It was the only affirmation he needed. He began unbuckling his belt and pants, keeping his unclouded gaze on yours, and soon he too was bare before you.

He was thick and long, and while you had taken him many times, it was never fully easy to ease the intrusion. His tip was already slick with precum, and he spread it along his length.

“You know the rule,” he murmured with a meaningful smile. “If it becomes too much, you scream, and I'll stop.”

He positioned himself at your entrance, sliding in slowly. The sharpness of the stretch seeped into you bit by bit, and you couldn't help but groan.

“—!” A sharp hiss escaped you as he fully sheathed himself inside, hitting that sensitive spot. Had your eyes deceived you, or was there a slightly noticeable bulge in your belly from where he was?

Sylus seemed to notice it too, but he folded your knees, spreading you further. His gaze intense and filled with something deep, something possessive. The room seemed to narrow, your entire focus consumed by him as he settled in close.

“Eyes on me, kitten.” He gave you a smile, and with that, he started pounding you—

“Ah, hah, ahhh!” You couldn't stop moaning beneath him as he thrusted into you. The feeling of him so deep inside, coupled with the way you tightened around him, sent waves of blind pleasure through you.

Sylus’ eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he watched you squirm under him. Your skin glistened with the heat of the moment, and the sound of your breaths, frantic and needy, filled the room. His control slipped, just a little, as he pushed deeper, his movements faster, chasing the release that quickly building within both of you.

A pretty mess, his wife is. Your face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain as he bred you, and he swore, of everything he had gone through, this look in your face was always worth it.

“Sylus—!” you almost wailed, nails digging into his back, and he growled, knowing full-well that he was finally losing it.

Just like that he shot his cum straight to your womb, his own body shuddering, thoroughly rutting into you. You cried, tears falling from your lashes as you too reached your climax.

Full, too full... Yet you knew that you wouldn't have it another way.

. . .

It felt warm and comforting.

Your eyes fluttered open hours later, and the first thing you noticed was Sylus' sleeping face, and that you were now in the bedroom.

He looked so vulnerable like this. You couldn’t help but be drawn to how serene and unguarded he was, a side of him that only you got to see. Even in his sleep, his arms were wrapped around your waist, as if to protect you from anything that might disturb your rest.

Your lover... and then husband. He was rough around the edges, sometimes didn't make any sense at all, and often reckless enough to burn himself playing with fire.

“You sly crow…” You gazed at his profile, still in awe that this elusive man was your husband.

Sylus was easy to read sometimes, and you couldn’t help but smile at your earlier doubts about him. How could you not see just how deeply he was attached to you?

Just like the inseparable pair of dragon and sorceress in your dream, you knew you’d stay by his side until the very end.

Out of a playful surge of affection, you tapped his nose, and he grunted softly but didn’t wake, instead nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, seeking more of your warmth. It was cute, how he was so worn out that he sought comfort in your embrace.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead then, vowing with everything you had that you’d never let him go, and that with him by your side, you would definitely made this life you shared a happy one.

Several weeks later...

“Thank you, miss!”

The boy bowed his head with a wide grin as soon as you handed him the red pocket money for Linkon New Year. You waved at him, smiling warmly as he skipped away, clutching the envelope in his hands.

The festive occasion inspired you to pay a visit to a nearby orphanage, driven by a desire to share more of the joy and blessings. You brought small gifts and red envelopes, hoping to bring a little light to the children’s lives and make the celebration even more meaningful for them.

Of course, Sylus tagged along too. He was the benefactor, after all.

“Sir, thank you for your generosity.” The headmistress approached Sylus, who looked effortlessly sharp in his red suit, and gave his hand a shake. “The children are really happy with the cupcakes and pocket money.”

He merely chuckled and pointed at you with his chin. “Thank her, my wife is the one with the idea.”

You joined the conversation shortly after, and it didn’t take long for the topic to shift from the orphanage to your personal lives.

“So, do the two of you have plans to start a family soon?” the headmistress asked, her tone warm and curious. “Both of you are still young, and you're so good with kids. Having children of your own might bring even more joy into your lives.”

You mustered a polite laugh, the words to gracefully deflect her comment forming on your lips, when—

“Soon,” Sylus interjected smoothly, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. “Very soon, in fact.”

You blinked at him, startled by his bold declaration, while the headmistress’s face lit up with approval. You nudged him discreetly.

As soon as the headmistress went on her way, you turned to him with a frown. “Why would you tell her that?”

Your gaze met his, clear and utterly clueless. Sylus snorted, so tempted to pinch your cheeks, but settling instead for a tender pat on your head.

“You'll see soon enough, sweetie,” he replied, his tone laced with playful mystery.

Epilogue

It was the dead of night when a sudden wave of nausea overtook you. Stumbling out of bed, you rushed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before retching up the contents of your stomach.

Your body trembled as you stood, dizziness threatening to topple you. Leaning heavily on the sink for support, you rinsed your mouth, trying to steady yourself. The effort left you shivering, your legs almost buckling beneath you.

Before you could even comprehend the blur in your vision, a pair of strong arms got a hold over you. “S-Sylus...?” you murmured faintly.

Without hesitation, he lifted you into his arms securely as he carried you back to the bedroom, his expression shadowed with concern.

As he settled you onto the bed, he held you close, pressing your face against his bare chest that peeked from his unbuttoned shirt. “Take deep breaths,” he urged softly, his voice grounding you.

You inhaled shakily, letting the familiar warmth of his scent calm your frayed nerves. Slowly, your breathing steadied, though the nausea still lingered in the back of your throat.

“Is it the first time?” he questioned, smoothing your hair. “Have you thrown up before?”

You shook your head. “No... I get dizzy spells but that's it... This is the first time.”

Nausea, dizziness, vomiting. It wasn't hard to piece together what it was. Amidst your dazed thoughts, the realization hit you, and you turned to your husband almost in wonder. “Sylus... a-am I...?”

Sylus broke into a smirk, ruffling your hair. “Told you. I know your period is late.”

Your heart skipped a beat—and it was the only thing you could hear in that moment. The thought that a baby would enter your lives left you briefly speechless.

“Yeah, at the rate we're going, it’s like we’re bunnies,” you quipped sullenly, trying to regain a sense of control as you leaned into his broad chest.

You really thought he would poke fun at you for your highly possible pregnancy, but instead you were taken aback when he pressed a fond, lingering kiss to the side of your head. His arms tightened around you, his soft chuckle reverberating through his chest.

And when you found his gaze again, his jewel-like eyes softened into such an extent that made your heart soar.

“Well, aren’t I the luckiest man— having this fair lady be the mother of my child?”

[felixvanhuss]

Guess who's siiiiick! Because I simply cannot catch a fucking break!