#they have to flow into the other they have to tell a STORY

[teejaystumbles]

for the @sandman-connect4 prompt - feast

[Part of Go Forth, a story told losely with pictures and snippets - find more on it here  other Sandman Connect 4 prompts related to this story: kidnap, predator, goldfish]

The last story - The Masque of the Red Death

(I even wrote something, I've had this done from the beginning because the idea grabbed me by the throat)

When Hob comes to, he finds himself in the middle of what looks like a masquerade ball. A feast has been laid out on a dozen tables in a room with a ceiling so high he can barely see it. Chandeliers with hundreds of wax candles light the room and people wearing voluptuous ball gowns and masks mill about, laughing and sipping wine from delicate glasses. Hob looks down at himself and sees that he’s dressed in a tight and quite revealing black and dark red leather ensemble that would not be amiss in a fantasy role playing game. He chuckles in disbelief and lifts his head again to survey the room. If the last few stories he has traversed have been any indication, Dream must be here somewhere, possibly in trouble. Hob wonders what kind of story this is. A ballroom…so maybe this is a fairytale with another prince or princess. Maybe Cinderella? Hob cannot imagine Dream dancing at a ball voluntarily, but who knows, maybe he’s in for a surprise. He starts to mingle and smiles amicably at the other guests while keeping an eye out for Dream.

After a few minutes there is a fanfare, announcing a new guest. Hob turns to look at the ballroom doors like all the others and watches as the huge double doors open slowly. People step back to make room for whoever is about to enter and Hob cranes his neck to see better when he catches a glimpse of telltale wild black hair.

The Dream who enters is a vision in red and black. His mask seems to be weeping blood, his mantle is tattered and flowing in an invisible wind. Hob holds his breath as an unseen clock chimes and all the guests fall silent. Dream seems to float towards the middle of the hall, leaving a bloody trail smeared after him on the marble floor.

The clock chimes twelve.

"This dream," the nightmare's voice rumbles, like scraping stone on stone, "is over."

His coat opens and a flood of blood gushes out, pooling around everyone's feet and making them scream in horror and try to get away from the terrible figure in their midst. Hob finds himself rooted to the spot between the running guests who he knows will find the doors locked. Ignoring the cacophony of screams Hob steps slowly towards Dream.

Hob feels something wet trickle down his forehead. His vision is turning red. He sees a woman stumble past him, blood running from her pores, her terrified eyes bleeding, and he knows without doubt which story he is in this time.

"Poe, huh? Figures."

Hob ignores the discomfort he is starting to feel and zeroes in on Dream, standing silently amidst the bloody chaos like an avenging angel. Stepping right in front of him, Hob can see crystal clear tears run down his friend's cheeks. Hob smiles sadly and curls his tongue around the taste of blood. "Hello, my friend."

The mask hides most of Dream's face and Hob can't see his eyes but he knows when the other recognises him. He stiffens and lifts his chin almost imperceptibly, his mouth opening a fraction in astonishment.

"I know what you're trying to do," Hob says quietly, knowing that his friend can hear him despite the rising screams. Hob feels blood trickle out of his nose and ears into his beard. He ignores it, as well as the pain under his skin and in his abdomen, telling him he's close to experiencing something very unpleasant. Blood beads on the back of Hob's hands and he knows he has only minutes before he'll pass out from blood loss. He takes another step closer and lifts his hands, gently cradling Dream's face. His friend shivers under his touch and Hob cocks his head, trying to find the eyes beneath the mask.

"You will not lose me," he says and finally there's a light behind the mask's shadowed eyes. "I'm not going to die, love. And neither are you, or your kingdom."

Hob smiles at Dream and steps even closer, feeling his head become light from the loss of blood. He can feel it running down his arms and legs now, soaking through his fancy clothes.

"All this," Hob says, leaning his forehead against his friend's, "is not going to scare me. And if you're trying to punish yourself.... don't you think it's been long enough?"

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Better Off

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You're not the person they fell in love with. Warnings: Grief over disability and chronic illness, self-worth issues, angst with some comfort, fem!reader

The apartment feels hollow, its four walls a constant reminder that you are not alone, yet the echo of your thoughts suggests otherwise. It is a peculiar sort of loneliness—one that gnaws at the edge of your consciousness even as you share this space with three others.

A glance around the room tells the story of their presence: the crimson and gold of James's Gryffindor scarf casually tossed over the back of a chair, Remus's books arranged neatly on the shelf, their spines creased from frequent use, and Sirius's leather jacket thrown haphazardly over the arm of the sofa, a silent testimony to his reckless nature. Yet, for all their silent company, you feel disconnected, as if trapped within a body that refuses to obey the simplest commands.

You lay there on the couch, where most of your days now begin and end, the sun streaming weakly through the cracks in the curtains. The pain is a constant companion, a tide that ebbs and flows but never truly recedes. Each wave leaves you gasping, your body exhausted from the struggle to merely exist.

You sense their concern in the way they move, in the glances they think you don't see. The helplessness is there too, palpable in the air between you and them when James's hand hovers over yours, his fingers brushing lightly against your knuckles as if to remind you of warmth, of life. Sirius's thumb traces a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle yet hesitant, like he's afraid you'll shatter under the weight of his worry. Remus stands by the door, his presence both grounding and distant, caught between the instinct to give you space and the desire to pull you into an embrace that might just break with its intensity.

Their efforts are not lost on you, nor is the love that fuels them. But love alone cannot bridge the chasm that grief has carved within you.

On some days, the hopelessness is so heavy it nearly suffocates you, pressing down on your chest until each breath is a struggle. You can't shake the thought that maybe they'd be better without you dragging them down, without the constant reminder of a loss they didn't experience firsthand. Guilt gnaws at your edges, eroding what little strength you have left.

You see the weariness in their eyes even as they try to hide it behind smiles that don't quite reach their eyes. James's grin always widens the most when he's hurting; you've noticed that much. Sirius plays the part of the unaffected rogue well, but his hands shake ever so slightly when he thinks you're not looking. And Remus... Remus is the hardest to read, his calm exterior a mask that betrays nothing except the hint of fear lurking in his gaze—fear not for himself, but for you.

You know the truth: there will be no recovery for you. Your affliction is not some temporary inconvenience that can be vanquished with enough determination and sweat. It's not like the battles they've fought and won. Instead, it's a war you lose every day, over and over again, each surrender a little more final than the last.

You sometimes wonder if, in their moments of quiet, they feel frustrated with you. If they miss the version of you that could run alongside them without faltering, stay awake into the late hours sharing stories and laughter, plan for a future that seemed as boundless as the sky itself. The you that was so full of life.

The thought gnaws at you, a constant companion to your physical pain.

The front door opens and closes with a soft click, the sound as familiar as your own heartbeat. You don't need to look up to know who it is; James's presence fills the room instantly, his energy warm and comforting even from a distance. His hair is tousled from a day at work, glasses sitting askew on his nose, but his smile is genuine as he spots you curled up on the couch.

"Hey sweetheart," he greets, dropping his bag by the door and crossing the room in a few long strides. He kneels beside you, one hand cradling your face as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. The contact sends a thrill of warmth through you, anchoring you in the moment. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine," you respond automatically, the lie slipping from your lips before you can think better of it. The truth is too heavy, too raw to voice aloud. You've tried before—on days when your body feels like an anchor, pulling you down into depths you never wanted to explore—but the worry that flashes across James's face is worse than any physical pain.

His thumb brushes softly against your cheek, a silent reassurance. You know he doesn't believe you, not fully, but he doesn't press for more. Instead, he simply nods, accepting your words for what they are: a shield, however thin, between the two of you and the reality of your condition.

"Alright," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. Despite the casual tone, there's a steadfast determination behind it—a promise wrapped in two syllables. "Just let me know if you need anything."

You nod, and he moves back towards the kitchen, his retreat masked by the excuse of preparing dinner. But you watch him, see the way his shoulders slump ever so slightly when he thinks you can't see, the tremor in his hands as they busy themselves with the mundane task of cooking.

There it is again—that gnawing guilt, the insidious whisper that you're a burden, an imposition. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady the erratic beat of your heart against the tightness in your chest.

The sound of the front door slamming announces Sirius's arrival, his presence as commanding as the robust gust of wind that follows him in. "Prongs! What are we havin'?" he calls out, his voice echoing through the quiet house like a clap of thunder. James mutters something about pasta, but his response is lost in the shuffle of pots and pans.

Sirius spots you on the couch, his boots heavy against the wooden floor as he crosses the room. His face breaks into a grin, wide and untroubled, but it softens when his eyes meet yours. The transformation is subtle, meant only for you. "Hey, beautiful," he murmurs, sinking onto the sofa next to you. His arm drapes around your shoulders, pulling you into the warmth of his side. "I've missed you."

You smile and lean into him because it's easier than moving away. He smells like cigarettes and leather, a scent so intrinsically Sirius that it tugs at something deep within you. It's comforting in its familiarity, yet it also serves as a cruel reminder of all the things that once were. The impromptu road trips on his motorbike, the reckless adventures that always ended with Sirius laughing, his hair wild from the wind. You miss those times. You miss you.

Remus is the last to arrive, his presence as quiet as a whisper. His greeting is soft, carrying a hint of relief when his eyes find you nestled between Sirius and the couch cushions. You are here, but not quite present, a shadow lingering on the edges of their world.

"Hello, love," he murmurs, crossing the room with a grace that belies the weariness in his bones. He bends down to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips cool against your skin. Then he settles on the floor, leaning back against the couch, close enough for his hand to rest lightly on your calf.

The four of you stay like that for some time, the only sounds those of dinner preparations drifting from the kitchen. Sirius's arm remains steady around your shoulders, a constant reminder of the warmth that exists even in the darkest corners. Beside you, Remus's breathing is a gentle rhythm, another anchor grounding you to this moment.

For a second, you allow yourself to believe that this could be enough—that you could stay here forever, wrapped in the love they offer so freely. But reality is a harsh mistress, and the truth returns like a low, persistent ache.

Eventually, the pasta is served and the boys fall into easy conversation around you. You try to focus on their words, to anchor yourself in the reality of this moment, but it's like trying to grasp at smoke—everything is blurry and distant, their voices echoing as if from the end of a long tunnel.

Your fork moves listlessly through your food, pushing it around rather than eating. It's not that you're not hungry��you are, deep down—but the effort to lift the fork to your mouth, to chew and swallow, seems insurmountable. You can feel the weight of their gazes, even when they pretend otherwise, watching you with concern etched into their young faces.

A hint of your usual spirit surfaces as Sirius tries to coax a smile from you with a jest about James's insatiable appetite. But his laughter falls flat, swallowed by the thick tension that hangs in the air. He looks at you, his grey eyes clouded with confusion that quickly morphs into concern.

James's thumb traces reassuring circles on the back of your hand, hidden beneath the tablecloth's heavy drape. It's a silent promise—a vow—that he's there, and he isn't leaving. You want to draw strength from it, but all you feel is the hollow echo of exhaustion.

Across the table, Remus watches, his gaze cautious and unreadable. He doesn't say anything, but you can almost sense the weight of his thoughts pressing against your skin, making you itch to retreat further into yourself. His sympathy feels like a cloak too heavy to bear.

"I... I think I need to lie down," you mumble, pushing away from the table. No one stops you, no hands reach out to pull you back. They never do. You know they're trying to give you space, to respect the boundaries you've set in place, but part of you wishes they wouldn't. That they'd tell you it's okay to not be okay. Yet it's unfair to expect them to understand when you barely comprehend it yourself.

Once you’re alone, you finally release the breath you've been holding, your shoulders slumping as the tension leaves your body. The room feels smaller somehow, the walls closing in around you as the reality of your situation sinks in. The darkness is a shroud, wrapping itself around you, but it offers no comfort.

You crawl into bed, pulling the covers over yourself as if they can shield you from the world outside. Your body aches, each twinge a reminder of the battle you've fought—and lost. And yet, the physical pain is nothing compared to the torment in your mind.

There's a creak as the door opens once more, and you know without looking that it's Remus. His presence is like a balm, soothing yet heart-wrenching in its familiarity. He doesn't speak, just slips under the covers beside you. His arms encircle you, drawing you close against his chest. Your body fits against his as if moulded for this very purpose—to find solace in the midst of despair.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to the only anchor in this storm. Tears prick at your eyes, unwanted but inevitable. They fall silently, darkening the material beneath your cheek. Remus' hand moves in slow circles on your back, a wordless promise that he's here, that he won't leave.

"It's okay," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble of comfort against your ear. "We're here for you. We always will be."

You want to believe him, to let his words wrap around you like a protective shield. But some days, faith feels as elusive as the wind, slipping through your fingers just when you need it most.

The mattress dips once more, and you sense rather than see Sirius’s lean form stretching out alongside Remus. His scent—a familiar mix of parchment and the faint traces of a woodsy cologne—drifts over to you, offering another layer of security. He reaches across Remus to brush your hair back from your face, his fingers warm and steady against your chilled skin.

"Hey," Sirius murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying the strength of an unyielding vow. "We've got you."

You try to focus on his face, but it's like trying to grasp smoke; it slips through your consciousness, leaving you with an impression of earnestness etched in grey eyes and a firm set jaw.

You feel that same warmth seeping into your bones, the cold fear that has held your heart in its icy grip beginning to thaw under their relentless care. Your eyes flicker shut, the world blurring into soft shapes and muted colors as you let yourself sink further into the bed, the lines between wakefulness and sleep blurring.

The mattress dips and shifts once more as James moves to your side, his chest pressing against your back. His arms encircle you and Remus, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity that wards off the chill of fear gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. The pressure from their bodies is a tangible reminder of their presence, a silent promise that they will not let you face this alone.

James' lips brush the top of your head, a feather-light kiss that stirs the loose strands of your hair. His breath is warm, a whisper of life against your chilled skin.

"We're here," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that reverberates through your bones. "We'll face whatever comes together."

A sigh escapes your lips, barely audible. It's a relief you hadn't known you needed, the exhale of burdens held for too long. The tension in your muscles begins to ease as warmth envelops you. James' breathing is a steady rhythm against your back, his chest rising and falling with a comforting predictability. His arms tighten just so around you—a reaffirmation of his presence, his promise to keep you safe.

To your front, Remus is an anchor. His heartbeat, slow and constant, thrums through the fabric of his jumper against your cheek. Every inhale brings the faint scent of parchment and something uniquely him—a calm in the midst of storms.

And behind them both, Sirius watches over you all, the strength of his arm draped over Remus' waist a silent vow to protect. His fingers play a gentle melody on Remus' hip—once, twice, thrice—a quiet reminder that he, too, is here. That you are surrounded by love, even when darkness threatens to consume.

You focus on their breaths, let it become your lullaby. Each exhale chases away a sliver of fear, each rise and fall of their chests against you a balm for the uncertainties that gnaw at the edges of consciousness. They are with you, in this moment and every one that follows, and the weight of that knowledge is both humbling and empowering.

Tomorrow, you promise yourself, you will find the strength to keep going. But tonight, wrapped in the warmth of their love, you just sleep

[latenighttalkinqwp]

kk arnold x dancer!reader, maybe some smut too

kk arnold x dancer!gf

as they finished calling your entry number and the applause quieted down, the walk onto the stage felt like forever. your eyes darted across the room, looking for a specific pair to meet yours. the first few beats of your song began to play, and your mind immediately went quiet. this was your last time competing on stage before college, and you knew you couldn’t risk it. you have put every bit of your soul into perfecting this solo for this exact moment, and everyone in the room was able to tell. weather it was your technique being near to perfect, or the story being told with your body, the judges were loving it.

as you knee-dropped to the floor, you slowly looked up and met her eyes across the room. her smile was wide, and her phone was recording this moment for you. the emotion on kk’s face was evident, and it gave you the motivation to continue performing to the best of your ability. she has been with you training all these months, and she’s one of the few people who know how hard you have wanted this. being on the stage at nationals your senior year has been your forever dream— and now you’re finally here. “bum roll up…hold this leg. dear god hold this leg baby.” kk whispered, having every moment of your choreography memorized.

the angle of your body shifted, and your leg slowly began to come up into a développé for five counts. your toes were pointed, and your back slowly began to arch as you fell into a back-walkover. the audience cheered, as you began to walk off stage. your eyes were watering, and your team ran to hug you as the audience was standing to applaud you. “that was so beautiful.” your teacher whispered in your ear, hugging you tightly. you muttered a quiet thank you, just trying to get out from backstage. as the next number was called, you were finally able to break away and start looking for your person. kk was doing the same thing, looking around the convention center looking for your navy blue costume.

“kk!” you waved, speeding up your walk as you noticed her in the distance. she smiled, pushing past a few other dancers to finally pull you into a tight embrace. “you did so amazing baby.” she immediately said, wrapping her arms around your waist. you could feel your cheeks heat up, her compliments still having that affect on you. “thank you.” you mumbled, pulling back from her embrace slowly. you began to look around for a more quiet place, the constant flow of people overwhelming you. “i found a place we could go when i was walking over here, cmon.” she said, knowing what you needed. her arm wrapped around your waist, as she led you to an empty meeting room that the convention center had left open. you immediately sat on one of the couches, pulling kk down with you. she laughed, handing you a bottle of water she had bought for you earlier.

“i’m so proud of you.” she leaned in, pressing a small kiss to your red lips. you pouted, “what kind of kiss was that?” you said. “i didn’t want to mess up your stage makeup.” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for a deep kiss. kk’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you into her lap. your emotions were still going haywire, the adrenaline from performing still surging through you. “you looked so good up there.” kk mumbled, pulling away to start leaving kissed down your neck. you let out a quiet moan, throwing your head back. her hands ran up and down your open back, and your body covered in chills. “kamorea..” your eyes flutter shut, as your body begins to melt into hers. “what is it baby?” she pulls you back in for a kiss, her hands wrapping your waist firmly. “mm..need you.” you say against her lips, still kissing her intensely.

“are you sure? so many people could hear us..” she leans up to whisper in your ear, then kisses down to the nape of your neck. “fuck- yes kk. please” before you could even finish your sentence, she had begun pulling your costume off, and leaving kisses down your your bare chest. your breathing picked up, as you pulled her shirt off quickly. she began to pull the rest of your costume off, and pulling down your tights gently so they didn’t rip. “you looked so good up there baby-“ she rubbed her hand up to the inside of your thigh, feeling the heat coming from your core. your hands come out to hold the back of the couch, as kk slowly begins to take off your underwear. it all happens fast after that- her slim fingers sliding into your core, while her thumb rubs circles on your clit. “fuck- oh my god.” you moan, biting down on your bottom lip. “you feel so good baby- so wet f’me” she rasps out, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a fast pace.

you can feel the knot in your stomach forming, and your hips begin to grind against her hand. “i’m so close- kk. oh my god.” your hand comes up to your breast, as you throw your head back. “that’s it baby, come for me” her fingers slow down for a moment, as you slowly come down from the high. kk slides her fingers out slowly, pulling them up to her mouth. your slick had covered her pants and nearly her entire hand- but that clearly didn’t bother her as she licked off her fingers. “you did so good baby.” she kisses your cheek, trying to find something to help clean you off. your chest is still heaving as you are trying to catch your breath, and your mascara is definitely running. “i can’t believe we just fucked at a dance competition- kamorea!” you giggled, pulling her back down and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “what? don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.” she laughs, helping you put your costume back on.

“you’re lucky i love you.” you both laugh, trying to make each other look presentable again.

- thank you so much for reading all the way through!

- guys this has been in the drafts for a hot minute… but lmk if this is good pls ( im not much of a smut writer so be kind 😣 )

[diminuel]

Ace confessing he was thinking about using Edward hit me hard in the feels because yeah, that is on one hand funny and on the other angsty:

🔥: Nearly used your name, glad that I didn't now because that's embarrassing.

WB: no no, please feel free to use it, you're my son now, we can tell everyone Rocks was you being a rebelling teenager

🔥: 😦

But on the other hand I can see that revelation about Crocodile considering him at one point as a father/family bringing up guilt. When going with Rocks D. Crocodile, I headcanon that Whitebeard either assumed him dead and felt guilty about it, or that maybe Big Mom took him because she's big about family/that's a bloodline she would be interested in keeping. Either way, years later Crocodile hunts him down and confronts him about how he claims all these people as his children but abandoned him when he was a literal child that grew up with him, and they fight and Crocodile looses a hand due to that tho I think that would be either an accident or because of other circumstances surrounding the situation (I read a story once in which he lost his hand because he tied himself to something so he wouldn't drown but consequently killed the blood flow after leaving the Moby). Ace being on the Moby could maybe lead to him tentatively seeking out Croc again to see if they can finally reconcile or at least find some closure.

And yeah, Marineford is really weird when you get more information later on, like Sengoku is confirmed to have cared for Rosinante so it's weird that he should care that much about parentage with Ace. I think the WG basically forced the Marine's hand and ordered the public execution to eradicate the Roger bloodline and display their might while also hoping to get rid of WB. And they had to announce Ace's parentage because they needed a reason for this kind of spectacle, especially when we see who else just gets thrown into Impel Down, executions in the One Piece world seem kinda rare, either the criminals die before they're caught, they end up in Impel Down, or the WG just Buster Calls everything but executions by the Marines? Can't remember any besides Roger's and Ace's.

There's a lot of potential to give Crocodile a sad/ traumatic backstory when it gets to his loss to Whitebeard. I like pretty much everything! No idea what I'd go for (though in my Rocks D. Crocodile post I suggested that Crocodile reached out once for help but WB denied him - it would still fit in with Croc's potential rage that WB takes on everyone needing help, a home, a family. Everyone but him.)

And a Whitebeard and Crocodile reconciliation via Ace does sound very nice ;w;

Yeah, Marineford was a trap for WB and a display of their might but it seemed like a pretty foolish decision on the Marine's side because so many things could have gone wrong. And since it was broadcast - but only selectively (they conveniently cut out the parts of it that would show the marine's less than savory actions), they clearly wanted to tell a particular narrative. Still. Hmm. *squints at Sengoku*

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature 😬...he's not giving in easily when it comes to Lizzie, is he? At least, not yet. Urghh, I can't watch, but I wana watch 😭🙈!

With the business with Jessie and Lizzie, Lucy feels different to me. I don't know how to properly articulate it, but she just kinda seems like she's just going with the flow but deeply, deeply sad about everything. She just seems...done 😥. Tommy has all these ambitions and things going on with Lizzie, and I get the sense that Lucy has been completely worn down by it all. I appreciate how he's always checking on her wellbeing, but from the readers perspective, we're really starting to see a change in Lucy and how things she once enjoyed are starting to become a burden/anxiety inducing.

“You can’t be unmarried with an illegitimate child if you want to move into politics, Tommy.” Urghh, I know the topic of marriage has to be brought up. But you can tell from both Tommy and Lucy's remarks that neither of them want to be even thinking about the mere idea of it. He's a fucking gangster though! And illegitimate child it's hardly something people should be fussing about considering his line of work 😂. I swear, these posh/high society people have more twisted morals than anyone in Birmingham!

“You okay?” Tommy whispered to her in the dark. When she didn’t respond right away, his voice grew a little strained with worry. “Lucy?” yeh, I'm starting to think she's done with these threesomes now. It starting to look like a chore for her when she once enjoyed it. I find it interesting how she reflects on it, and if it's because of what happened to Luca or Lizzie. But I think that it properly goes further back than that. Little by little we've started to see how, even though they enjoy it, they seek each other out more during those encounters. Maybe they just want each other, but continue with them because it's a force of habit and a job that needs doing. Is Lucy waiting for Tommy to say that's enough now, do you think? Because she really doesn't seem into it.

Looking around, a beat of panic tightened in his throat at no sight of her distinctive crimson hair. His heart started to pound hard in his chest. No. No, no, no, no…he’d just left her there for a second. Ahh Tommy 😭. They way he panicked when he couldn't see her, and how he had to control himself from falling apart when she turned up😩. He's absolutely petrified of losing her again, even for the tiniest of seconds.

Another edition to their family 🥰! I love how Tommy was pouty about it first but quickly caved in when he saw how much Lucy had already fell in love with the little kitten. He's a big softie really! And that line about how he had knocked someone up, so she should be able to keep that cat, got a giggle from me 😂.

Urghhhh it hurts 😭! I know Ruby is an innocent baby in this mess, but my heart still dropped when I was reading about Lucy's struggle seeing Tommy with Lizzie and their little family she doesn't feel a part of Fuck sake Tommy, your pull out method is weak 😬! Look at the heartache you've caused 😩.

She followed Tommy and Lizzie down the stairs, lingering back to let them both go first, walking side by side with their baby while she trailed behind them; alone. Fuck sake...this chapter is really starting to stir my emotions for poor Lucy 😭. I always knew it was gonna be hard to read her seeing Tommy doting on his daughter with Lizzie by his side. I just wish there was something Tommy could do to show her that she's stil his number one girl. But I still understand how his time has now been split between Lucy and Charlie and Lizzie and Ruby. But I have hope that things will get easier for this blended family as Ruby grows up ❤️.

What a fantastic chapter to finish of this part of your story! Off to next part 😍.

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Tommy's ambitions take them to new heights, but not without consequences looming on the horizon.

Word Count: 4,005

Notes: I originally considered including some more detailed aspects--even potentially a full chapter--detailing Lizzie's pregnancy and Ruby's birth, but I have tokophobia, and just wasn't comfortable going into that much detail regarding that topic. So apologies to anyone who wanted to see more of that. And I promise that the Lizzie drama is only just beginning, and will be a big part of the next couple parts, so please consider checking those out once they're posted if you're interested in seeing a continuation of that aspect of the story.

Also, I just want to give a huge thank you to everyone who has read this story. This is to date the biggest single fic I have ever written, and the support you have given me means so much. I promise to have more featuring Tommy and Lucy out very soon!

Warnings for depictions of insecurity, sexual content, PTSD, and references to torture and pregnancy. Bit of a bittersweet ending here, so sorry about that!

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Part

Chapter 29: Shake Hands with the Devil

Returning to work had been the right idea.

Already, Lucy was starting to feel better, work helping to drive the dark thoughts that had been plaguing her lately to the back of her mind. They were still there, but they weren’t nearly as loud as they once were. 

Tommy’s new plan required a good amount of logistics and organizing, both of which she was eager to take on. And another action, one somewhat less desirable, but just as necessary. 

She was surprised at just how easy it was to get Jessie to give up the name of the leader of the cell. All it took was a kiss from Tommy and a declaration that he wanted to help her cause to have information already spilling from her lips. 

But then again, Tommy always seemed to have that effect on women. And Jessie, despite how she may have presented herself, was desperate for connection.

“You alright?” Tommy asked, after Jessie had left the office with the promise that they’d meet up later.

“I feel a little bad for what we’re doing to her,” Lucy sighed, leaning back into him while his hands rested on her upper arms, chin settling on the top of her head.

“If you really don’t want to go through with it, we can figure something else out–”

“No, it’s fine.” She turned around in his arms to face him, resting her head on his chest, leaning into the warmth of his body. 

It was a shitty thing, what they were doing to Jessie. But fucking her was necessary to ensure her loyalty until the election was done. And to maintain the steady stream of information she could provide them about the communists–at least, that’s what Lucy was going to keep telling herself in order to be able to sleep at night. 

“Just…” she worried on her bottom lip, feeling Tommy’s hand settle protectively on the back of her head. “Promise me that you won’t come in her.” She didn’t need to specify as to why, feeling him tense a little against her of the reminder of Lizzie and her approaching due date. 

“I promise.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly. “We really should talk about what you want to do about Lizzie.”

“What do you mean?”

She hesitated, unsure as to how she could properly broach the subject to him, feeling a tear begin to cleave its way through her heart in response to what she was about to suggest. Even as she forced the words to come out. 

“You should marry her.”

Tommy jerked back, staring at her with a furrowed brow, frown pulling his lips downwards. “What?”

“You can’t be unmarried with an illegitimate child if you want to move into politics, Tommy.” Knowing him, winning the position of MP was just the beginning. He had big things ahead of him. “You have to project the right kind of image. And if you want to be able to be involved in any sort of significant way with the baby…”

“But I love you,” he said softly. “If I’m going to marry anyone–”

“It needs to be the mother of your child,” Lucy finished for him stubbornly. He shot her a wounded look. 

“I don’t want to marry her.”

We don’t always get what we want, she thought, but bit her tongue. If things had been different, maybe it could have been her that he would marry. But they weren’t. 

“And besides, what about you?” he pressed.

“I think that I’m a small price to pay for the betterment of your child’s life and your career.”

The hurt in his eyes deepened. “Well I don’t!”

“Tommy…”

“We’re not talking about this,” his jaw twitched unhappily as he shook his head, turning towards his desk.

“Sweetheart, please…”

“I’m not giving you up.” That stubborn sharpness entered his eyes, jaw setting, and she knew that she would get nowhere with him on the subject. At least not yet. He’d have to see with his own eyes that she was right before he budged on it. 

She sighed. The last thing that she wanted to do at the moment was fight with him. “Alright.”

They did not speak of the matter again. Though it lingered in the air between them like a ghost. 

∗ ∗ ∗

They laid side by side in the narrow bed, Tommy in the middle with Lucy on one side of him, Jessie on the other. He was thumbing at his brow with one hand, staring up at the ceiling while Jessie slipped out from under the sheets to go get dressed. Lucy watched her lazily, shifting to tuck herself more closely into Tommy’s side. His arm dropped to wrap around her shoulders, fingers tracing over her back. She shifted nearer to him, suddenly needing the closeness.

“You okay?” Tommy whispered to her in the dark. When she didn’t respond right away, his voice grew a little strained with worry. “Lucy?”

“‘M okay,” she said, nestling her head more firmly on his chest, eyes still watching Jessie carefully. They could not talk while she was in the room with them. At least not really. 

She ached pleasantly between her legs from having him buried inside her but only a few moments ago. And while the pleasure from the orgasm he’d given her was still rushing through her veins, she was coming down from it rapidly, crashing back to earth in an unpleasant plunge. 

It would appear that Lizzie’s pregnancy had more or less killed a lot of the enjoyment that threesomes once held for her. She’d felt an unfamiliar surge of anxiety as they’d taken Jessie to bed, the kind that sex normally helped to dull. But this time the tumultuous, overwhelming feelings only seemed to grow as she watched Tommy fuck their new lover. Even though he’d kept his promise and not emptied himself inside of Jessie, the threat of yet another unintended accident from their liaison had set her so on edge that she found it almost impossible to fully lose herself even in Tommy’s familiar kisses and touches.

She was pretty sure that he was able to sense her nervousness, but whether he was able to guess the actual reason, or thought that she was just anxious because this was the first threesome they’d had since what had happened with Luca, she wasn’t sure. Either way, despite Jessie being the primary focus of the evening, he was being notably attentive towards her, eyes constantly darting over to check on her throughout, warm mouth seeking out her skin in attempts to pull her out of her own head. 

He was looking at her that same way now, a slight crease forming between his brows. Lucy offered him a weak smile that only caused the look of concern to deepen, his other arm joining the first in wrapping around her so that he was hugging her tightly. Lucy squeezed him back, closing her eyes and burying her face in his chest. As if by doing so she could somehow hide away from the entire world. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Tommy left his meeting with Arthur Bigge in high spirits. It had taken some convincing, but all his conditions had been met. Everything was going according to plan. 

Well, not everything. Lucy was still worrying him. She was doing considerably better than she had been during their holiday, but she still wasn’t wholly herself. 

She used to smile and laugh so easily. Even at the absolute worst of his jokes, or with the smallest little bit of teasing, and he could have her giggling, trying to shield it behind one of her hands even as her mossy green eyes lit up, entire face crinkling with mirth.

But nowadays, a melancholic aura had draped over her, seeming to cling to her skin, casting a film of sorrow over her eyes. Of course Tommy did not expect her to go back to the way that things were before Luca. But it killed him to see her so despondent and broken. 

He missed hearing her laugh. 

What he would give to make it all better for her. To pull the sadness out of her eyes. Take it into himself, if he had to. Just so long as she didn’t have to carry it anymore. 

She was still having nightmares and the occasional panic attack, as was to be expected. He had been worried originally that all the work that came along with preparing for the election would cause her too much stress. Especially with how fragile she still was. But if anything the work seemed to help, so he let her be. 

But her comments about how he should marry Lizzie had struck a nerve in him, planting a seed of dread in his chest. He had always assumed if he were to ever marry again after Grace, it would be to Lucy. No one else. Especially not Lizzie.              

He had meant what he’d said. He wasn’t letting her go. He’d rather burn his reputation and even the entire bloody company to the ground before he even considered something like that. But his Lucy seemed incapable of understanding that, and he was beginning to grow more and more worried that no matter how much he tried to reassure her, she was doubting her place at his side.

When he first brought up the idea of running for MP, she had asked him what was to become of her position as his assistant after he took office. The question had taken him aback. It had seemed so obvious to him that she would come with him. He’d hardly given it any real thought. Wherever he went, so did she. That was how things had always been, and he had no intention of changing them. Her worries seemed only somewhat abated when he smiled and coyly told her that MPs still needed assistants. It wasn’t long before she was fretting over the possibility of rumors spreading regarding their relationship and tarnishing his reputation. 

As if his reputation was not already drenched in blood and mud. 

He’d just grinned and kissed her temple, trying to appear relaxed and unbothered by any of it. Hoping that if he did, it would help to soothe her. 

“Most politicians are sleeping with their secretaries, love. We won’t exactly be unique in that regard,” he’d told her. It seemed to have calmed her concerns enough. At least for the moment. 

Adjusting the grip on his briefcase, he pushed out of the door and stepped into the crisp fresh air. Glancing around, he frowned when he didn’t spot Lucy on the bench where he’d left her before going in for the meeting. Bigge had wanted to meet with just him alone, and while Tommy had been inclined to kick up a fuss about it until he let Lucy accompany him, she’d insisted that he shouldn’t risk irritating Bigge just so she could be in the room while they struck their deal. 

He hadn’t been particularly happy about it, but ultimately he had to admit that she had a point. 

Looking around, a beat of panic tightened in his throat at no sight of her distinctive crimson hair. His heart started to pound hard in his chest. No. No, no, no, no…he’d just left her there for a second, she’d been armed, there were dozens of people around, surely she couldn’t have been just snapped up right off the street…

His head swiveled around, scanning the people passing by him. Maybe he’d just missed her. She was so short, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that he’d just lost her in the crowd of people.

He was just beginning to properly panic when he heard his voice at his elbow. 

“How did it go?”

He whirled, eyes wide, chest still heaving with the startings of his panic attack, to find her standing there none the worse for wear, black coat pulled in tight around her.

Relief hit him like a blast to the face, and it took all his self control not to seize her in his arms and squeeze her tight to him. Instead he just let out a deep breath, shoulders relaxing. His eyes closed as he steadied himself, taking the time to remind himself that she was there and she was fine.

He opened his eyes again to find her still looking up at him, head cocked curiously. “Where were you?” he demanded, tone perhaps a bit sharper than he’d intended. 

“I got bored, so I went for a walk.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s just…you weren’t here and I…” he huffed. “It’s alright. C’mon,” he indicated with his head towards the car that he’d parked on the edge of the curb. He held open the door for her, then slipped in after she’d gotten settled in the passenger seat. Setting his briefcase down and closing the door behind him, he turned to look at her. There was an odd bulge in the front of her coat. His eyes narrowed. The bulge twitched. “What’s that?”

Lucy clutched her coat tighter to her body, blinking up at him innocently. “What’s what?”

“What’s wrong with your coat?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her coat meowed. Tommy raised an eyebrow. Lucy pouted, letting the garment fall open to reveal a tiny little black and orange tortoiseshell kitten hidden underneath, blinking up at him with scrutinizing green eyes. 

“What the bloody hell is that?”

Lucy stroked the little animal’s head. “It’s a kitten, Tommy. Surely you’ve heard of them before.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know what a kitten is, Lucy. What’s it doing tucked in your coat?”

“I heard her crying in the alley behind the bench I was sitting at. And when I went to look, she was soaking wet and shivering all alone in this little box. I couldn’t just leave her there.”

“The fuck are we going to do with a stray kitten, Luce?”

She shrugged. “We can keep her at the house. She could help with the mice problem.”

“We don’t have a mice problem.”

“And now that we have a cat, we never will.”

He eyed the kitten warily, still feeling like she was sharply analyzing him. Her little tail flicked back and forth, paws kneading at Lucy’s thighs. When Lucy scratched at the top of her head, she angled her face up, and batted at her playfully with one soft paw. Lucy giggled. 

Tommy looked up sharply at the sound, biting the inside of his cheek to try to maintain his serious facade even as he felt himself soften at the sight of her smiling down at the cat. 

“And you immediately assumed that I’d be alright with this?” he asked, the amusement obvious in his voice.

“You don’t have much of a choice.” Lucy flashed him a grin before her attention returned to the kitten, who’d curled up into a ball on her lap. Tommy raised an eyebrow, fond smile threatening to break containment as it tugged on the edges of his lips. 

“No?”

Lucy looked up at him, a challenge entering her eyes. “You knocked someone else up.”

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. “You know what–that’s fair.”

She snickered, leaning forward to peck his cheek to let him know that there was no real bite to her words. Tugging off one of his gloves, he held his hand out to the cat. She sniffed at his knuckles, whiskers twitching with consideration, and then rubbed her cheek against his hand. 

“She likes you.”

“Mm.” He gave her a few scratches under the chin, begrudgingly admitting to himself that the kitten was pretty fucking cute. And Lucy was right; the least he could do was let her keep the cat. “We’ll have to get her checked out by the vet before we take her home.” 

“Of course. Who knows what she might’ve gotten into living on the streets. Poor baby.”

Tommy let his hand stroke over the kitten’s back. She was so little, he could probably have fit her in one palm when she was all curled up. He felt a slight buzz under his hand as she started purring. He could feel Lucy watching them both fondly. 

“So it went well?”

“Hm?”

“The meeting with Bigge. Did it go alright?”

He smiled at her softly. “Yes; it went alright.” 

Her face lit up, leaning into him. “Good.”

He turned his face to catch her lips with his, kissing her gently in celebration.

Between them, the kitten meowed. 

∗ ∗ ∗

“Don’t you dare.”

Lucy grinned to herself as she approached Tommy’s office, hearing his voice even before she pushed open the heavy wooden door. She was greeted with the sight of the kitten perched on his desk, her little paw batting his box of matches closer and closer to the edge, her head cocked with intrigue. 

Her green eyes peered over at him, holding his gaze, and promptly batted the box onto the floor. Tommy sighed, reaching across to scoop the little monster up and plop her down onto his lap. “You’re gonna be a little troublemaker, aren’t you?” But he was smiling to himself, a dimple appearing in his cheek when the kitten meowed in agreement. 

Lucy smiled as she stepped fully into the office, walking over to set down a fresh stack of papers onto his desk. “Need you to sign these.” She collapsed back into a chair across from him as he plucked up a pen. 

Her hand raised to rest against the side of her face as she watched him. With every passing day, the election drew nearer, and with it, her anxiety grew. 

She’d been keeping an ear to the ground, regarding anything that might hinder him winning. But so far, with all the careful bribing and other methods of rigging that they’d implemented holding strong, it seemed like it would be an easy path to victory.

But there were some rumblings regarding Lizzie and the pregnancy that had started to spread. Lucy was pretty sure that they could keep them suppressed at least until the election was over. But not indefinitely.

It was going to become a problem.

She supposed it was almost funny, in a way. How being unmarried with an illegitimate child was likely to cause more harm to his reputation than being a notorious gangster. 

They needed to address it. Figure out what they were going to do. And the longer that they took, the more damage the whole situation was likely to cause. 

The kitten jumped into her lap, curling up with a soft purr. Lucy let her hand stroke mindlessly through her black and orange fur.   

“Tommy?”

He looked up at her through the glinting lenses of his glasses, eyebrow raised, papers still clutched between his fingers. 

“Yes?”

She’d been reluctant to bring up the subject ever since he so thoroughly shut her down the last time over it. But if she was being truly honest with herself, that wasn’t the only reason why she’d so willingly let it go.

She didn’t want him to marry Lizzie. And she sure as hell did not want to let him go. 

We’ve still got some time. We don’t need to do anything about it yet.

She swallowed hard, feeling like the worst, most selfish scum on the earth, even as she forced a wobbly smile on her face. 

“Never mind.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Time passed at seemingly the speed of light. And before she knew it, she was standing next to Tommy, the rest of the family–except for Lizzie who had to wait outside with the baby–crowded around him. They were all waiting with baited breath as the results of the election were announced over the loudspeaker. Lucy could feel her guts twisting nauseatingly inside her with nerves, heart leaping into her throat. 

It had been an insane handful of months, and they’d all seemingly passed within the blink of an eye. She didn’t even know where all the time had gone. 

Not long before the election took place, Lizzie gave birth to a baby girl, already bestowed the name Ruby by Polly before her arrival into the world.  

And oh, did Tommy love that little girl. 

It was heartwarming to see him fall so deeply in love with her, and every moment spent watching him with her made Lucy’s heart jump. 

But God, did it also hurt.

She kept her melancholy and jealousy over the gorgeous little family he now had with Lizzie tucked down deep and away, where no one would ever find it. Ruby was a sweet baby, and she deserved nothing but good things in life. And Lucy did love her. Enough that she was more than prepared to walk away forever if she had to in order to give that girl a chance at growing up with a proper family around her. 

She knew it made Tommy sad, to not be able to see her all the time. Ruby and Lizzie still lived at the home Tommy had bought for them, and while he visited when he could, he still did not get to see his daughter as often as he would if she lived at Arrow House. 

They still had not had the conversation about what to do regarding that situation long-term. She’d tried to bring up the idea of him and Lizzie getting married again a handful of times, especially after Ruby’s birth, but Tommy still wouldn’t hear of it. 

A part of her was worried that, despite the promising polls, his personal life would hinder his victory. And it would all be her fault. Because she had been selfish and decided to try to hold onto him, even though the selfless thing–the responsible thing–would have been to let him go so he could build a proper personal life to go along with his new ambitions. 

A huge breath of relief left her when his name was announced over the loudspeaker, a wide smile quickly replacing the look of apprehension that had been there a moment prior. She hugged Tommy back tightly in celebration when he engulfed her in his arms, briefly forgetting that she was trying to behave more distantly towards him in public. Like a mere colleague rather than a lover. To try to save his reputation before the rumor mill fully caught wind of their affair and ran with it. 

“I now declare Thomas Shelby to be the new Labor Member of Parliament for the constituency of Birmingham South,” the announcer boomed for all to hear. Not just in the room that they were all crowded in to hear the results, but across the entire bloody country. 

Cheers erupted, everyone in the family swarming around him, all smiles and uninhibited joy. They soon made their way to the doors, out to where Lizzie was waiting with Ruby clutched in her arms. Tommy beamed as he scooped Ruby up, lifting her high above his head, the baby squealing and giggling in delight. Lucy smiled at the display and the baby’s happy coos as her father adjusted her to rest on his hip and carry her with him down the rest of the stairs. But her smile quickly fell when she spotted Lizzie flashing a truly snide smirk at Jessie where she was standing in the crowd. A tendril of trepidation coiled itself around her, wondering if she would be on the receiving end of such a look sooner or later. Lizzie had been behaving decently towards her as of late, but she was not fool enough to expect that to last.

She followed Tommy and Lizzie down the stairs, lingering back to let them both go first, walking side by side with their baby while she trailed behind them; alone. 

And despite their current string of good fortune, of endless possibilities and new doors opening up before them, she found herself struggling to muster up any real hope for the future. 

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[agentmmayy]

march + april rotation

it’s gonna be...... may finally posting the march + april rotation playlist. combining these two months since most of the music i listened to in march was off the previous rotation list!

flowers in my hair - calista garcia: sweet, slow, and syrupy. i love this song and how it feels like a breath of fresh air. it’s achingly romantic and has got me singing along and twirling my hair and kicking my feet. though, at the same time it’s so intimate i feel like i’m intruding 

back for more - nia hendricks: the usual type of slow groove beat i adore that makes me want to dance around with the love of my life. it’s just as sweet as the previous one but it feels... lonely. mournful. i’d be dancing but with a ghost

bodybag - charlotte lawrence: this song is so *clenches fist* i am obsessed with how the body bag fills in for the other person in the relationship and holds her when they can’t or refuse to! the relationship is already dead! she’s holding on! in that liminal space between resurrection and burial! also the vocals in this are insane. my favorite part is ‘she’s at the bowery bar, showed you her paper heart’ and then ‘help me hurt and then i’ll come back’ YEOW

gasp of air - lisa curtis: THIS SONG MAKES ME WANT TO SING AND SCREAM ALONG AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS!!!!!!!!! and then the lyrics slapped me across the face. ‘but i’ll stay and such ‘cause i think it’s love enough’ ‘i’m yours enough that i come back’ ‘some water if i’m lucky but i would never ask that much’ ‘what kind of person needs to breathe A HEALTHY ONE I’M SURE BUT THAT’S NOT ME’?????????? 

nothing left to give - BAILEN: ‘i wanna live i’m sick of just trying to survive’ *looks into the camera* anyway. obsessed with this band and how weird this song sounds 

kilimanjaro - dolores forever: this song and the next have me asking how songs can be this good. like. is it crack? is that what they put in these?? the music and the vocals are EVERYTHING it’s unlike anything i’ve heard recently and i’m digging it. then the harmonies?? and the lyrics???? ‘a thousand shards of glass from your silver tongue got me like a shot gun’ the way ‘i was young. you were pure ice and snow’ IS SUNG?????? WTF

labour - paris paloma: this has been my hype song for the past few weeks. the intensity of it still continues to blow my mind. it’s unapologetic and awful. it’s incredible. i felt every lyric in my gut. i don’t want to over explain it since i can’t do the song justice but it’s so brutally honest in describing and dismantling traditional roles placed upon women and girls. the entirety of it is like poking at a wound that never closes, a wound that’s been gaping and bleeding for centuries and it makes me so angry. the visceral reaction i had to the lyric ‘if we had a daughter’ girl i- ouuuuugh. i got sick to my stomach. i was screaming crying throwing up etc etc. anyway this song is a masterpiece. still haven’t recovered from it. also it’s a fucking bop. 

bad blood - trousdale: another banger for the books!! trousdale always delivers these perfect harmonies and this time it’s a fantastic, bitter song but that’s not the only element! there’s indifference and confusion and acceptance! there’s healing! and the repetition of anyway *patcha holding earbuds meme* perfection

all the love - katie gregson-macleod: katie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! how am i supposed to live laugh love in these conditions!!!!!!!! this one is SO SAD. i ache each time i listen to it. it doesn’t apply to romantic love but all other types of love and what happens when you lose it and how you deal with that loss. the grief is so thick it’s almost suffocating but as always the way she sings is enough for it to not be overwhelming. every lyric hits but the combination of her voice with ‘but i’d rather do that in bed alone’ is my favorite  

BONUS: here are a few stray songs that didn’t quite fit in the narrative but i wanted to share them anyway :)

far and wide - WILDES: doesn’t quite fit the narrative, but it’s a good follow up to all the love. it’s toned down more and easier to get lost in, but still woven with the running strand of grief that makes it sorrowful. once again, back at it with the yearning 

ava - famy: this song had me by the throat the first time i heard it in teen wolf and it still does. chewing glass over the switch between ‘this world is primal’ + ‘this world is rabid’ to ‘this world is pure’ + ‘this world is learning’  and ‘my conscious burning, my beastly flaw’ 

[fictionadventurer]

"If the structure of your world ever evaporates, I will still be here."

I think The Q might contain one of the greatest declarations of friendship/love ever.

[sleepymick]

yeah sorry, maybe another hot take, but fanfiction isn’t an exception to negative opinions and critique. hating on it irrationally -or to be purposely malicious- and completely disregarding someone’s creativity and effort is one thing, but expressing dislike for a fanfiction, or the characterization, or whatever it may be, that’s literally fine. are we forgetting how for literal YEARS, there were countless people publicly sharing their dislike for things like “after,” and “50 shades of grey,” and those not literally works of fanfiction? don’t go and harass the author, don’t clique up and bash on the author or their work, don’t make a huge deal of it, and don’t be a downright douche, but do share your opinions on it, and don’t listen to anybody that tries to tell you that you can’t. it’s literally not that deep. coming from someone who has written and published fanfiction several times over the timespan of YEARS, i am 100% aware of the potential of people disliking it, critiquing it, and even straight up bashing it. i’m not posting fanfiction to make my way to be new york’s best fuckin seller, i’m posting it because it’s fun, silly, and an expression of my creativity, and because i like the band/artist/people i’m writing about. i still love writing, i still love said band/artist/people. people are allowed to write whatever the hell they want, and people are allowed to have whatever opinion of it they want to. end of.

[paimonial-rage]

I was thinking about this while helping my friend beta something yesterday like… I vaguely remember that at one time, I felt (punctuation) periods were too harsh. They had a sense of finality about them. They were too loud and vibrant. Commas were more comforting to use. They felt softer and not as exact. And then I look at my writing now and there's nothing I love more than a period. I love how sharp it is. I love its finality.

Like I can't understate enough how much a period makes a statement. Like that's what it's supposed to do, yes, but it's more than that. It tells the audience that what precedes is true. It's a fact. And when you yield a period properly, it emphasizes and highlights what is stated. It stands out. It's final. It has weight. It's such a powerful thing that it's addicting to use.

[paradizetobefound]

I do think games that follow the rp ideas of DE will actually be quite a good development. The thing is. Uh. To do such kind of integration of story and narrative... you actually need to have things to say. And it's a lot of things to say. You must be ready to talk about things at length and do it at different angles. And those things must mean something and you must figure out how to relate it to the game part of the system so even when you have things to say, you must be ready to talk about them and how those things relate to other things and how people feel about those things and and and

Like, it's okay to not have much to say, I do not have lots to say about many many things. But I think this particular approach to integrating roleplay and story is precisely not that popular because it is kinda like writing a book on steroids. Talking to the reader except they are even more of a participant.

[cerealmonster15]

u ever get that like emotional paralysis of doing things Only For Fun but ur like Fearing Ur Own Potential Cringe despite being in the privacy of ur own home and no one’s even seeing what ur up to

[miabrown007]

the Night Circus is fiction because there's no way an Adrien-level sheltered guy goes out to the streets in the 19th century and kisses a girl in an hour

[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.”

[lilac-melody]

Hnmmgg. Writing pain.

[drdemonprince]

If you’ve never been all that disobedient before, you can and should start really, really small. For example, you can wear the slightly revealing or gloriously trashy-looking garment that makes your mom roll her eyes and sigh despondently every time she sees you put it on. You will feel judged and disapproved of when you put it on, but that is fine. Your goal is to sit with the uncomfortable feelings and continue with your desired behavior anyway.  Saunter down the steps in that highlighter-yellow Garfield crop top with your chest hair flowing over the neckline, and harness as much courage as you can muster. It’s okay if you feel like a beacon of sin. Just keep it moving. Your emotions are not the target here. Your behavior is. You can feel however you are feeling in the moment so long as you keep acting like you’re free.  Do you have a favorite TV show that a partner or roommate vocally hates? Try watching that show around them without apologizing or defensively joining them in mocking the program. At first, you probably won’t be able to enjoy the show while in their presence. You’ll feel self-conscious about everything they find annoying or cringe-inducing about the show, and so focused on their reactions that you can’t relax. That’s okay. Allow those feelings of embarrassment and guilt to exist and pass through you without giving up. In time, you will be able to ignore these reactions more, and enjoy the activity.  You want to see the needle of discomfort moving down just a little, like Link’s body temperature meter in Tears of the Kingdom when he puts on a breathable outfit in a hot climate. You’re not gonna go from roiling hot to frosty cold in an instant. But after a certain point, you won’t be actively in pain anymore. Things are just gonna slowly suck less, bit by bit, until they are finally okay. That’s true of most major life adjustments, I find.  Probably the best way to develop self-advocacy skills while growing in your distress tolerance is simply by telling other people no. Do this without explanation or hedging. Nitpicky aunt wants to hear all about your dating life? “No, I don’t want to talk about that.” Unreliable ex-friend wants you to do them the tiny favor of moving their entire home gymnasium into a new third story walk-up? “No, I’m not available.” Manipulative shift supervisor wants to cajole you into sticking around for another three hours to close? “No.”  As many advice columnists smarter than me have already intoned, “no” is a complete sentence. “No” requires no explanation. “No” is not subject to debate. “No” can be repeated over and over like a broken record if a disrespectful person acts like they can’t hear it. And you can walk away at any time to make your “no” physical and impossible to argue with, when someone has proven they don’t respect your boundaries. 

you can read or listen to the full piece for free here

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff

Just a few suggestions. You shouldn’t have to compromise your writing style and voice with any of these, and some situations and scenes might demand some stiff or jerky writing to better convey emotion and immersion. I am not the first to come up with these, just circulating them again.

1. Vary sentence structure.

This is an example paragraph. You might see this generated from AI. I can’t help but read this in a robotic voice. It’s very flat and undynamic. No matter what the words are, it will be boring. It’s boring because you don’t think in stiff sentences. Comedians don’t tell jokes in stiff sentences. We don’t tell campfire stories in stiff sentences. These often lack flow between points, too.

So funnily enough, I had to sit through 87k words of a “romance” written just like this. It was stiff, janky, and very unpoetic. Which is fine, the author didn’t tell me it was erotica. It just felt like an old lady narrator, like Old Rose from Titanic telling the audience decades after the fact instead of living it right in the moment. It was in first person pov, too, which just made it worse. To be able to write something so explicit and yet so un-titillating was a talent. Like, beginner fanfic smut writers at least do it with enthusiasm.

2. Vary dialogue tag placement

You got three options, pre-, mid-, and post-tags.

Leader said, “this is a pre-dialogue tag.”

“This,” Lancer said, “is a mid-dialogue tag.”

“This is a post-dialogue tag,” Heart said.

Pre and Post have about the same effect but mid-tags do a lot of heavy lifting.

They help break up long paragraphs of dialogue that are jank to look at

They give you pauses for ~dramatic effect~

They prompt you to provide some other action, introspection, or scene descriptor with the tag. *don't forget that if you're continuing the sentence as if the tag wasn't there, not to capitalize the first word after the tag. Capitalize if the tag breaks up two complete sentences, not if it interrupts a single sentence.

It also looks better along the lefthand margin when you don’t start every paragraph with either the same character name, the same pronouns, or the same “ as it reads more natural and organic.

3. When the scene demands, get dynamic

General rule of thumb is that action scenes demand quick exchanges, short paragraphs, and very lean descriptors. Action scenes are where you put your juicy verbs to use and cut as many adverbs as you can. But regardless of if you’re in first person, second person, or third person limited, you can let the mood of the narrator bleed out into their narration.

Like, in horror, you can use a lot of onomatopoeia.

Drip Drip Drip

Or let the narration become jerky and unfocused and less strict in punctuation and maybe even a couple run-on sentences as your character struggles to think or catch their breath and is getting very overwhelmed.

You can toss out some grammar rules, too and get more poetic.

Warm breath tickles the back of her neck. It rattles, a quiet, soggy, rasp. She shivers. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. Sweat beads at her temple. Her heart thunders in her chest. Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump-ba- It moves on, leaving a void of cold behind. She uncurls her fists, fingers achy and palms stinging from her nails. It’s gone.

4. Remember to balance dialogue, monologue, introspection, action, and descriptors.

The amount of times I have been faced with giant blocks of dialogue with zero tags, zero emotions, just speech on a page like they’re notecards to be read on a stage is higher than I expected. Don’t forget that though you may know exactly how your dialogue sounds in your head, your readers don’t. They need dialogue tags to pick up on things like tone, specifically for sarcasm and sincerity, whether a character is joking or hurt or happy.

If you’ve written a block of text (usually exposition or backstory stuff) that’s longer than 50 words, figure out a way to trim it. No matter what, break it up into multiple sections and fill in those breaks with important narrative that reflects the narrator’s feelings on what they’re saying and whoever they’re speaking to’s reaction to the words being said. Otherwise it’s meaningless.

—

Hope this helps anyone struggling! Now get writing.