#writings

[feral-ballad]

Joy Sullivan, from Instructions for Traveling West: Poems; “Instructions for Traveling West”

[Text ID: “you’re homesick / for all the lives / you’re not living.”]

[mournfulroses]

Simone de Beauvoir, from a diary entry featured in Diary of a Philosophy Student

[bamsara]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49892641/chapters/167537173

The Rehabilitation of Death

Chapter 23: A Dance With Death

Narinder awakens to find The Lamb overcome with caring for their sick cult. The plague is unforgiving, and they realize that they'll need to take down Kallamar sooner than later if they plan to prevent any more unnecessary deaths, or face the potentially deadly consequences for over half the flock.

The crusade is a long one, a final journey before the Bishop's door. Narinder humors Lambert's investigative hypothesis on the crown and their issues of separation of power, and how both seemed to have gained strengthen since. The voice of Kallamar echoes from a statue adorned with gems.

Lambert vandalizes a completely different statue in the image of his brother, and learns what exactly is required in dowry for a marriage of a God.

They find Kallamar's treasury: a Ballroom, grandiose and magical. The hand of Death extends to the Lamb an offer. A dance, one that will lead to a very strange waltz, and many important, personal conversations. A dance that will lead to a heart-to-heart talk. Questioning, of one's important to another, and in what manner that might be.

They also almost drown. Keyword: Almost. (The nightmare himself finds the Lamb, and they find themselves confronted, both asleep and awake.)

Chapter Wordcount: 26,593 | Read Tags & Notes for Warnings. Thank you for reading!

(Ao3 links are not embedding for some reason)

[secretsiwhispertothemoon]

Bilal Al-Shams, Sacrifice

[maryqos]

coco mellors, cleopatra and frankenstein.

[theloverfiles]

Birthday Boy

TW: breeding kink, dominant reader, oral (m receiving), worship kink, soft filth,overstimulation, mirror sex, riding,praise kink, deep obsession, slow burn filth

⸻

He didn’t even make it to the bed.

You had him sitting on the edge of the couch in just his dress shirt, barely unbuttoned, chest flushed, eyes already heavy like he’d been begging for hours.

“You’re not allowed to touch,” you told him, straddling his lap with a slow smirk, your nails dragging up his throat as he swallowed hard. “It’s your birthday. You let me take care of you.”

He nodded, jaw clenched, hands fisting the couch cushions instead of your thighs.

Good boy.

You kissed down his chest slow, each button undone with your mouth, not your hands, until he was exposed and twitching beneath you. And then you dropped to your knees. Luigi’s head dropped back the moment your mouth wrapped around him, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he whispered, “Fuck—” like he hadn’t been touched in weeks. You took him deep, let him hit the back of your throat just to feel him buck under the pressure, your hands holding him still. You didn’t stop. You wanted him shaking.

“Not yet,” you whispered when he started to come undone, your spit coating him, lips swollen, eyes wet.

“You don’t get to come until I’m on top of you.”

He was already wrecked when you climbed on, guiding him in with a slow grind of your hips. His hands immediately flew to your waist, and you slapped them away.

“What did I say?”

He bit his lip hard, whimpering now, hips twitching up into you. You rode him slow at first, just enough to tease, then faster when he started moaning like he was gonna lose his mind. One hand dragged through his curls, the other gripping his jaw.

“You gonna cum for me, birthday boy? Gonna fill me up like a good fuckin’ gift?”

He nodded, eyes glassy. “Yes... fuck...please, let me—”

You leaned in, kissed him slow, and whispered, “Then give it to me. All of it.”

And he did with a cry, a curse, and his head thrown back like he’d just been blessed by God himself.

You didn’t stop moving.

You never stopped.

You barely made it to the bedroom before you decided he hadn’t seen enough. His body was already flushed and trembling, chest rising and falling like he was still trying to catch the breath you stole from him on the couch. His curls were messy, his shirt still clinging to his shoulders, soaked with sweat from the first round. And his cock?

Still hard. Still leaking.

Still yours.

“Sit.”

Your voice was soft, but the command in it was sharp. You nodded toward the mirror on the closet door.

“Back against the wall. Legs spread. Hands behind you.”

Luigi didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He followed like he’d been waiting for this exact moment all year. You stepped toward him, completely bare now, slick still coating your inner thighs, chest rising slowly and confidently. His eyes dropped between your legs, tongue wetting his lips like he was praying for a taste. But you weren’t giving him that yet. You straddled him again, knees planted on either side of his thighs, the cool wood floor grounding you both. You reached down, ran your fingers along the length of his cock twitching, desperate, soaked with the mess he’d made of himself and dragged it through your folds. He let out the quietest, broken little moan.

You smirked.

“Eyes up, birthday boy.”

You tilted his chin up, forcing him to look forward into the mirror.

“I want you to watch how pretty you look while I fuck you again.”

And then you sank down onto him. Slow.Devastating. You took every inch until your hips met, and he gasped — head falling back against the wall, hands twitching behind him.

“Fuck—” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Baby, I can’t… I just came—”

“Shhh.”

You started to move.

Up.

Down.

Up again.

Every bounce made the sound between you louder wetter, filthier — like you were trying to fuck the breath from his lungs. And it was working.

“Look at your face,” you whispered into his ear, breath hot. “Look how desperate you get when you’re inside me. That pretty mouth open, your eyes begging. You like being used, don’t you?”

He whimpered actually whimpered, nodding like he couldn’t remember a single word of English. You grabbed his face with one hand, your other hand clawing into his chest for leverage as you rode him harder. His thighs trembled beneath you, his cock twitching so deep inside you that you could feel another orgasm building.

So close.

So fucking close.

“You gonna cum for me again, baby?” you purred. “You gonna fill me up till I’m dripping down your cock, huh? One more for me, birthday boy.”

His mouth dropped open like he was gonna respond but then he came.

Hard.

With a grunt and a sob and a strangled gasp of your name. You slowed your movements, grinding down on him, dragging it out, making him feel every second of it. He looked up at you, completely wrecked, pupils blown, sweat clinging to his skin.

But your hips didn’t stop.

And neither did your voice.

“Don’t think we’re done yet, baby.”

You leaned in, kissed him slow and deep, tasting his moans as he trembled beneath you.

“I want one more. I want you crying while I take every last drop.”

Hope you guys enjoy. Drop a though on what I should write next or maybe not it’s ok 👍🏻

[arvalarc]

If you like fan fic then read this!

Flashed and Marked, Forever Mine.

NSFW fic 🔞Solivan Brugmansia x Fem! Reader

This is my first proper fanfic writing considering I usually draw sooooooooo I hope you enjoy.

ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

Please do not steal or copy my work ♥

Art by Fantasia TKaTB

Word Count: 1,600

Warnings: Smut, teasing, dominant behavior, public sex.

You had been teasing Solivan every second you could, reveling in the way his fingers twitched and his eyes roamed over you. Sneaky brushes of your arm against his, your fingertips dancing along the back of his arm as you walked with him. Solivan was at his breaking point, practically ready to throw caution to the wind and show you how much you affected him regardless of the busy sidewalk you two walked on. Your eyes were set on the arcade you were headed towards as the bright flashing lights and loud chimes sounded around you two.

 ”haah~…pumpkin you should know better then to tease me”…Sol said under his breath and with a strain in his voice.. “Heh…mmmn~…you’re soooo cute when you’re all flustered” you said back to him, finding his reddening cheeks endearing. You were practically tugged along and into the photo booth at the back that you two often frequented, but this time the atmosphere felt charged. Behind the curtain of the booth, his lips immediately crashed into yours catching you by surprise but you melted into him. Sol swallowed your breathy gasp with his lips as he resisted the urge to devour you right then and there. A press of lips turned into desperation, roaming hands and you could feel the heat pooling between your thighs at each slide of his tongue against yours.

How long had you two been kissing in the booth? It didn’t matter no, the only thing that mattered was the heat radiating off his body seeping into yours. Solivan pulled back just enough to look into your heavy lidded eyes brushing the pad of this thumb over your kiss swollen lip. He smirked then and slid the hand that was on your hip to your thigh squeezing it, he knew what he was doing and it sent bolts of desire straight to your core. Toying with the hem of your shorts his hand crept closer to where you needed him the most “nngh~…Sol..wait~” you breathed out even as your legs opened invitingly. 

“Shhhhh..…you’re going to be a good girl and stay quiet for me…right?” he said with a grin making his piercings glint in the dim light behind the curtain. The world outside the photo booth faded away as all you could focus on was his eyes that seemed to dance with mischief. You silently nodded, feeling a heat crawl up your neck as he pushed the crumpled bills into the photobooth. 

“GET READY FOR YOUR PHOTOS- SELECT YOUR FRAME” the automated voice came out like a shrill practically making you jump as you were so entranced by the way his fingers moved, he noticed, of course he did and that elicited a dark chuckle from him. Slowly his fingers crept higher and higher teasing under the hem making your brows furrow at him. “Sol… what are you planning?” you said but it came out more like a whine, he ignored you and pressed the sleek black frame. 

“GET INTO YOUR SILLY WACKY POSES FOR THE PERFECT PHOTO MEMORY” the voice cut through the air again, gods was it always this loud? Before you had even a second to process what pose you may want to do, a large palm pressed over your mouth and his other hand hooked around the crotch of your shorts tugging them to the side. “Pumpkin, we’re going to capture some memories alright” he purred out with a wolfish smile as the two of you appeared on the small screen. “Mmnnhhpppf!”  you huffed out into his palm pinching your brows together feeling the cool air of the booth hit your feverish exposed skin.

The time seemed to slow as you felt those all too familiar fingers slide through your glistening folds and the most pitiful sound came from your lips. “Heh…you’re so wet..is this all for me?” Sol teased with that same wolfish grin, gods you swore you could see his eyes darkening as he looked at the mess you were becoming. Your eyes flicked to the little screen seeing you two from the waist up hiding the hidden touches he was stealing below. “Pumpkin, eyes on me..” he said, keeping his palm over your mouth but turning your head to face him as he pressed his finger against the sensitive bud that ached for him. That press made your hips roll forward wantonly and you were thankful that your reddening cheeks were covered by his hand. 

“GET READY…..ONE….” The automated voice rang out as he circled your clit leaning his head to the side watching you with a predatory glint in his eye, the strain in his pants all but growing at the needy sounds being muffled by his hand. “...TWO..” Sol grinned wider as his fingers moved in tight circles, the pleasure radiating through your core was making your breaths come out in short quick bursts. “THREE!-” Snap~ the booth camera went off forever immortalizing  your cruel punishment for teasing him, and what was worse? There was more frames to be taken and he was just getting started. 

“You know, you're so beautiful when you fall apart for me” he purred against your ear, tightening his grip on your mouth as your warm breath from your nose ghosted over his knuckles. The automated voice said something similar than before but you couldn't focus, how could you when his words were dripping with sin and he was wringing out your pleasure? It felt so damn embarrassing knowing how much of a mess you were making in your shorts, your lace panties all but becoming a second skin clinging to you along with your damn shorts. Snap~ the lense captured his lips to your ears and your eyes going glassy, you were practically drooling into his palm.

Solivan turned your head forward facing the lens, opening your neck up to his greedy mouth. “Keep your eyes on the camera.” it was a command and the way he said it sent a shiver through your spine. His fingers became more demanding on your skin and his own hips canted up against nothing but the tightness of his pants. “Mmmnnh!~” the needy sound was muffled by his hand because that was his to hear, his alone. “M’Fuck…Im going to make you fall apart”  Solivan growled into your skin but only loud enough for you to hear. He could hardly take it the friction of his too tight pants pressed deliciously against his cock, if it weren't for his dark pants he would look just as much of a mess as you were right now. 

You. Were. Aching. For him. His lips and tongue on your sensitive neck made your skin flush and his hot breath rippled goosebumps across your skin. Solivan’s dexterous fingers slid between your slick heat and teased at the place you needed him the most. Schlick~ the audible squelch of his finger sliding effortlessly into your pussy sounded in your ears in the hidden place behind the photo booths curtain sounded in your ears.  

Snap~  The camera you were facing captured your eyes fluttering closed with a fucked out expression on your face. You were truly a mess, but his mess nonetheless. Solivan’s eyes flicked to the screen seeing your eyes closed and he pressed his finger deeper inside you curling it as he breathily whispered into your ear. “Pumpkin, you’re going to keep your eyes on that camera. Eyes. Open….or you’ll be punished when we get back.” another command, a warning that made you clench around his digit.  

“Fuck…look at you” Sol said thick with need curling his finger out of you only to replace it with two digits, this made you cry out into his palm that he held tightly against your mouth. Pumping his fingers in and out of your wetness his teeth began to dominate your neck. The muffled moans were caught but occasionally slipping between his digits making his cock throb and leak into his boxers. You were transfixed on watching him through the grainy screen, watching him suck love letters into your skin and marking you as his.  Snap~ Captured and enraptured by the punishment and worship he was giving you. 

It was too much, the slide of his fingers inside you coiling heat inside you like a spring ready to snap and then it happened. Squeezing around his digits your walls fluttered as Sol shattered you completely, you hadn’t even noticed him pull back to watch you come undone because your eyes were nearly rolled back.Snap~  “Haaaah~ yes, that's it! Fucking break for me” he said with ragged heavy breaths as he fell apart from the friction of his tight pants and purely by watching you crumble for him.

Solivan slowed his pace and then pulled his fingers out of the mess you made, your eyes lazy and trying to focus on him seeing his own fucked out expression. Your flushed face came into full view as he released his hand from over your mouth but only to hold your jaw in his grip. Holy fuck, you could only hazily think before he made a show of bringing those digits to his lips and licking them clean while you watched. Snap~ the final photo took showing you two, utterly ruined. 

Solivan moved your damp shorts back into place but not before snatching up the polaroid strip into his greedy hands. With twitching fingers, he held the strip raking his eyes over every detail of his newest obsession, before looking at his most prized possession. Fucked out, utterly ruined, marked in bites and hickeys and so his. “You're so fucking perfect so fucking mine, and only m i n e.” he said before capturing your lips again, his mind racing with every way he would show you just how much he meant his words, his promise. 

Find my spicy art here ➺PumpkinTushie🎃 (@PumpkinTushie) / X

[bambiebadoobee]

 — to all of us.

[poetic-questions]

—Anaïs Nin, "The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934"

[feral-ballad]

Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, from Rien ne va plus

[Text ID: “I would have preferred if you had loved me less and understood me more.”]

[mournfulroses]

Simone de Beauvoir, from a diary entry featured in Diary of a Philosophy Student

[bamsara]

Out of curiosity, do you work on TROD one chapter at a time or do you work on multiple at once?

Both, sorta. I work on drafts multiple but I only work-work on a single chapter at a time. I'll draft scenes months, maybe a year or two before it makes it into a final draft sometimes.

A lot of scenes will also be made out-of-order, so my tabs look like this:

The many tabs I have are used like this:

The current next chapter (main focus)

Scene document (cut, moved, drafted or concept scenes that are bulk placed here and are out of order and place. These scenes are important or ideas that will be used but do not belong on a chapter draft yet, but I often forget to delete old draft scenes or write several versions of the same scene, so this is a VERY chaotic and unorganized, LARGE file. I use the cntrl + F feature to find what I'm looking for)

One-Shots that I work on occasionally

Previous chapters to make sure I stay on plot track and not forget anything I had planned to address in the next chapter, this is especially if a previous chapter has foreshadowing that I need to check to so I can make it come true properly in the next one.

(I also sometimes write out-of-order scenes in previous chapters at the very bottom of the document. A lot of the Chp 23 - Ballroom was drafted at the bottom of Chp 17 - Drunken Gods because in the very original draft (I even drew doodles for it) they were supposed to dance while they were drunk. I thought it was too much in one chapter with the sparring, so it was cut and moved.)

I also write on the go, a lot of drafts by texting them to myself on my phone. It's the easiest, fastest way I can jot something down before I lose it and it's actually where Trod and SL started: texts to myself

Pardon the scribbly handwriting and the ramble

[secretsiwhispertothemoon]

Joseph Brodsky, translated by Howard Moss, from a poem titled "I Sit By The Window,"

[rollingblakely]

The child in me didn't disappear— they just buried them beneath expectations.

But I dig with gentleness, hands in the soil of memory,

and I pull them free-muddy, aching, wide-eyed.

We build our home together now, brick by trembling brick.

[insight-chronicles]

It is not lost on me that I spend more time complaining about the thing I love doing then actually doing it.