#Whinging into the void

[thegreenleavesofspringinsunlight]

Me: God please please please take this hard thing away from me. 😭😭😭 Please. It's HARD.

God: Here's a post about how Christian must bear their crosses.

Me: Oh, okay. 🥺

Him: And here's a post about how tribulations won't last forever.

Me: Oh, okay. 🥺

Him: And here's a post about how it's okay to flop on the floor crying while doing My will.

Me: Oh, okay. 🥺

[st-just]

I have somehow fucked up my ear/sinus while sleeping and now there's a painful kind of stretching feeling whenever I turn my neck at a sharp angle or shift my jaw.

This makes chewing, unpleasant.

Hoping it passes soon.

[rottingcheng]

not to be a weh weh baby about things but having bpd is crazy in the sense that my feelings are so magnified and intense i actively fear things that can induce strong emotions. i avoid media that isn't mind numbing a lot even though i want to read/watch good stuff bc i get so emotionally invested and if something emotional happens i will feel like my chest was holed out and that's scary.

[trammellesstangent]

You ever make posts but then delete them

[tmae3114]

she has been a character for some time now and I still just am incapable of taking the name "Morgan Elsbeth" seriously. why do they keep saying it like it's a scary villain name. Every time they say it, it breaks my immersion. It's the 'Elsbeth' that's getting me, I think. That's such a weirdly specific name to use as a surname. I just can't find it threatening, I know too many Elspeths in real life

[pineapplepr1nc3ss888]

THIS IS YOUR WAKE UP CALL:

this is not a game, there is no time to procrastinate, there is no “can you manifest for me?”?? NO! when are you going to realise your own power? seriously? you have infinite realities with infinite desires all waiting for you if you just decided to have it? this is your own life! all that time you wasted crying and complaining when you could have screwed your head on and told yourself fuck this im getting my desire and im not accepting any less!! i’m going to get that SP, im going to receive thousands of pounds, im getting that job or house, im going on that holiday, im gonna be friends with that person, im going to induce void state.. BLAH BLAH BLAH. whilst you are sitting crying to yourself wondering what the hell is wrong with you and why you can’t manifest shit whilst someone else has just manifested someone confessing their love for them you need to take a good look at yourself, your subconscious has no eyes and has no choice but to keep producing into your reality whatever the hell you are assuming and confirming to it, if you are sitting assuming you can’t manifest shit then guess what bb, your poor subconscious is gonna make manifesting 10x harder for you because of what you are assuming it’s not your subconscious’s fault or anyone else’s fault, it’s yours. you need to realise that if you aren’t inducing the void state or manifesting all your desires that is no one’s fault but your own, you need to look at what you are doing wrong because your subconscious is basically your slave sure it knows you best and knows what you want but it’s job is to listen to your thoughts and if you are assuming manifesting is so damn hard or you can’t induce the void state or this person will never be in love with you or you’re always broke then your subconscious mind is just gonna roll with whatever you are thinking cos that’s its job! you wanna make this your year? get your head out your ass, and stop thinking the worst. you are the creator you give the orders and your subconscious serves you! stop crying! stop whinging! stop complaining! this is your life you are playing with, it’s not a game. you can have anything you want if you just realise the power you have and apply the knowledge every single person has told you. we can’t manifest shit for you, if we manifested something we done that in our own reality but you have your reality where you still don’t have your desire until you wake up and start assuming. you can either keep procrastinating or you can have your desire: your choice.

[himbo-thoughts]

Get ready for some whinge positing:

I HATE it when writers keep jacking up the tension in a story. Like there is nothing that makes me divest more in a story than things going wayyyy worse for little reason.

When things are going bad and the get dramatically worse it just takes me out of the story and makes me think that the writer or an editor looked at a stressful scene and say you know what let’s imperil the characters a bit more they’re not in enough peril.

Repspect to the authors who do do that tho. It’s just not for me

[redrocketpanda]

Today the sky is BLUE and the sun is SHINING, and my writing class this afternoon was cancelled so I could actually conceivably go out & enjoy the nice weather?

Unfortunately for me my brain said nahhhhhhh don't think so and so, for the past 3 hours, I have been in a horrendous fight with real bad brain gremlins which are kicking my ass

I wanted to write, I wanted to read some bllk, I wanted to enjoy the beautiful weather we're having. But nope. Brain says no, and I hate it.

[moodymisty]

YOU KNOW WHO I AM

Can I officially request that scenario with that female serf being chosen to keep the Black Templars pure and safe from the temptations and corruption of Slaanesh? 🥺

Author's note: Possessive Black Templar kind of gangbang with religious kink? someone call @kit-williams Relationships: Multiple Black Templars/Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW, Religious overtones, Gangbang, Oral(Male receiving), The consent might perhaps be dubious but when is it not with astartes, A very very small pseudo sequel to my other Black Templar fic

"You are so quiet, little one."

How could you not be? Stuck between two astartes; It's stifling. Your tongue feels like it's made of lead as they loom over you. Your knees hurt, your robes are opened and expose your front bare for them to see. It's so cold in here, which makes the heat that radiates from them more noticeable.

The one you know, even if barely- his fingers are tightly gripping your hair. He keeps your head up, his touch is firm but not cruel.

"Show him the calmness you've given me."

You were kind to him, and what had begun as a tentative respect grew into something you couldn't name. Those secret moments you shared however, where you would shakily guide his hands, teaching him things astartes shouldn't know; He thinks they're something more than they are.

You warded him, comforted him, and now he seeks to share the protection he thinks you've bestowed on him with the third and last of his squad.

But, you don't know what that is. Other than those private moments with him, you've given him nothing. You have nothing to give, not to an astartes; You feel like he's thinking of you something more. You're just an Imperium priestess from a planet of little renown; A wet, muddy planet with not much to give.

You can try your best, no matter how much it makes your hands shake.

His other battle brother is bare other than the shoddy cloth trousers they wear, looking down on you and effectively piercing you to the floor. He's smaller than the astartes you know most, though it seems more so because he's the anomaly; An overgrown astartes who struggles to fit his armor.

Your hands hesitantly reach towards the tie of his trousers, undoing them and pulling them downward just enough to follow the rough and unkempt trail of hair leading down to the base of his cock. Your hands tremor, and you not dare look up to meet his eyes. You can feel them well enough- the heavy, nearly emotionally void stare. They are in there, but it's somewhere walled off so deep inside of most astartes you can assume, that it's all but impossible to see.

The moments that pass afterwards are a blur, before your mouth is full and your hands grip at the rough fabric like it's keeping you afloat. The head of his cock bumps against the back of your hard palette, and you try to shift and not gag. The hand in your hair doesn't allow you however, until it eventually releases. However it's instantly replaced with another, the smaller astartes gripping your head to push you onto him more. He groans deep in his chest, loud, and you can feel it in your own chest.

He pushes himself so deep you can feel your nose sometimes brush against the hair at the base of his cock, nose full of a heavy muskiness and odd chemical smell. You've grown used to the ladder, along with the smell of stink and rot that permeates their unwashed armor and hair, but the former is new and significantly more inviting. There's a weight in your gut from it, one that needs curing. Perhaps later.

He thrusts into your mouth faster, and you hear the soft noises of him almost huffing with effort. You relax and try to just hold on, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You whinge and groan when he stills and finishes in your mouth, and you try to swallow it before it overwhelms your throat. It feels like there's too much, you can barely breath.

He pulls out mostly by pushing your head back, and doing so you see the look in his eyes again. It's feral and uncontrolled, but there's something there, unlike the emotionless you saw earlier.

You suddenly realize that you preferred the ladder. This is wholly new to him, and you don't know what he has in mind.

Suddenly he forces himself back between your lips and goes again, muttering between his gritted teeth. You feel like the corners of your mouth are going to split at this rate, having to open so wide to accommodate him.

"By the throne, this,"

You can barely hear the sound of the door hissing open from the sound of spit and cum slobbering in your mouth and all over his cock, eyes blurred from tears. You're so focused on trying to breath you barely even register the possibility of feeling embarrassed.

"Taking a hand at the lieutenant's little priestess?"

The voice sounds mildly inconvenienced, and you lock eyes with the third astartes for only a moment between the tears and rapid jostling of your head. Your jaw hurts, even after not long at all, and your knees are cold and sore from the unforgiving metal ground. The third astartes moves to sit on a cot, and you can tell from the wetness of his hair that he's just returned from the showers.

"Don't break her."

The lieutenant speaks up firmly behind you when his battle brother gets particularly ruthless with your mouth, and your hands clamor for something to steady yourself. The lieutenant was far more gentle what now feels like forever ago, in a way that made your stomach begin to swirl.

The only reprieve you get is when he finally finishes again, and pulls from your mouth. You fall forward palms onto the cold floor, coughing and nearly gagging. Some of it leaks from your lips and onto the floor, eyes blinking to try and focus and catch your breath.

The lieutenant doesn't say more than that however, and you wonder what he would consider breaking, if this wasn't. You sure feel broken.

"Get her off the floor," Says the one sitting. The astartes that just used your mouth grabs you by the armpits and sets you standing, almost like one would a child. Once steady, you get gently pushed in his direction. You feel passed around.

Standing in front of him as he sits on the cot puts you at about head height with him. He stares at you, your body feels hot and empty, before glancing to the astartes who just used you for the first time.

"She's obedient, she's quiet, she has every litany and prayer memorized. A Black Templar couldn't ask for a better serf."

The way he watches you, looks at your front exposed by your open robes would almost seem like he's uninterested. The bruises on your thighs that have begun to fade to the sickly sort of color tell a different story. He's had his fill for a bit perhaps, but when the three of them return from deployment, you know they'll all have need of this again. The entire squad now.

For all the way they talk about you keeping them safe and pure, the they way treat you is almost like a talisman to be used.

"What say you? Can you truly tend to now three astartes?"

No, you want to say. But you know it isn't an option. Home is far, far away now, and would you really want to return to it if it wasn't? Many would kill to be aboard such a ship. To be hear and be protected is the greatest reward your loyalty to the Emperor could bestow.

"Yes."

He grunts.

"Then cover yourself up. We've been called to duty once more and have need of your loyal faith." He stands and towers over you. You clumsily attempt to redo your robes, and one of the other two astartes surprises you by tugging your hood up.

"You've done well for our lieutenant, little priestess. Let us see if you can do the same for all of us."

[merbear25]

Been thinking a lot about Crocodile

Thinking about how you'd have to take it slow to work up to a decent level of trust between each other, second guessing the other's intentions, overthinking each gesture and reaction.

You'd sneak glances at each other. Hoping you won't be caught admiring them when the thought of their body brushing up against yours crosses your mind, leaving your cheeks flushed.

Your overactive imagination would inevitably lead to restless nights of tossing and turning; wondering if he ever lost sleep over you like you did him.

Seeing as his body language isn't the most inviting to someone who may or may not want to confess their feelings, he'd most likely be the one to confront you first. Don't expect anything heart felt, though. Despite having realized he has feelings for you, he still has walls up and is going to try to feel out the situation.

He'd never show it, but he's relieved that you've returned his feelings. Since admitting your feelings, nothing changes that much. You still have to build trust. However, neither of you feel like it's necessary to sneak glances at each other anymore. The both of you are still warming up to the idea of physical touch, so even though you've closed the gap that'd been between the both of you, there's still some physical distance.

When you start spending a bit more time together, you have a certain look on your face. You look so sweet, so innocent, so trusting. Your softened features are making it hard for him to resist his growing urges: to stroke your cheek, run his hand over your hips and small of your back, to feel the warmth of your soft lips against his, all of which burning into a desire to hold you close.

NSFW below the cut (f!reader, fingering, vaginal penetration, daddy kink and maybe size kink)

Intimacy was something to be earned in his mind. Simply jumping into bed would have never been an option as it would completely void sex of any true meaning. Building that much needed trust was essential for him to fully allow himself to enjoy you.

He wants to take his time enjoying the curves of your body and relishing in how it reacts to his touch. Those hushed gasps as he gripped your inner thigh were working wonders on him, especially while he worked his way up your leg, teasing you. The way your hips slightly thrusted against his hand made him smirk. You were coming off so eager and desperate for him.

The feeling of you squirming under him was making him feel powerful — having this much control over someone from just a simple touch was exhilarating.

You hesitantly touch his thigh and trace your finger to the yearning that was lengthening between his legs. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were scanning his features for approval to continue. While he started bending down to kiss you, you met him half way — his skepticism being engulfed by your passion.

As he deepens the kiss, his hand drifts down to unbutton your pants. He tugs them, along with your panties, off swiftly, which leaves your bottom half completely at his mercy. Him gazing down at your already slick slit made your pussy twitch with anticipation.

In seeing this, his ego inflated and a cheeky smile appeared before his thumb found itself swirling around your clit. He loved seeing how your body responded and loved just how intimate it was to have you practically helpless under his touch.

Your fingers fumble about with his belt due to the constant spasms sending thrilling waves throughout your body. He decides to help satisfy your curiosity and slaps his long thick cock against your whimpering pussy, causing the wetness to splatter under its weight.

He may be a rather cruel man at times, but he wants to ensure that you love each and every moment together. He rubs the tip against your clit before shoving two fingers inside you. You whinge from the sudden pain but gradually become accustomed to the feeling. He slips a third finger in which makes your back arch from the intense amount of pressure. Once the whirls of pain and discomfort settle, your moans become louder, begging him to give you more.

The show you had just put on was too enticing not to reward. Using every ounce of will power, he held back the temptation from being as rough as he wanted to be. Carefully, he eased himself in and allowed you to adjust to his length. You crawled at the sheets beneath you and your breath hitched.

He knew you weren't going to be able to take all of him the first time having sex, so when a decent amount of him was hidden within your walls, he tenderly thrusted. Hearing your moans, seeing how tear-stained your face had become, and feeling your cunt clenching so tightly around him was delectable.

His jaw was becoming slack. He let out a deep moan, and you just couldn't help yourself, "It feels so good, daddy."

Hearing that come out of you damn near short circuited the man. The slow and steady pace he'd decided on for your comfort was dwindling; he wanted to hear you scream that. Quickening his pace, he was engrossed in your movements.

He baited you to call him that again, "D'you like that?"

"Unhhhh... love how daddy fucks me," your voice was becoming a bit hoarse from how vocal you were being.

His eyes roll back and he tightens his grip on your hip. He doesn't even notice the low-toned moans he's letting out. "Y'love how big daddy's cock is?"

All you can do is choke out a 'yes'.

He forces himself deeper into your pussy. You whimper and dig your heels into the mattress. The sounds of his dick being suctioned by your soaking cunt was accompanied by your desperation to let go.

You cry out 'daddy' before your hips buck from the intensity of your orgasm.

He pulled out and left your front side completely coated in cum.

After a moment he pants, "It might be worth spending more time with you."

[ectologia]

TERNARY

TOMURA SHIGARAKI + FEMALE READER + DABI

WARNING: DUBCON/NONCON, CLIT TORTURE, GENITAL SPANKING, ANAL FINGERING, MALE MASTURBATION, THREESOME, CREAMPIE, HUMILIATION, MOCKING, SLIGHT GORE, MENTION OF TORTURE METHODS, PROFANITY, SLIGHT DABI X SHIGARAKI?

“Come out, come out..” Shigaraki sing-songs, shuffling against the moist gravel. “Where the fu— Dabi!”

“Mm.” Dabi hums, hand lax in his pocket while the other occupies a smouldering cigarette, pinched between his ashen finger-tips.

Shigaraki snarls a groan from the back of his throat. “Stop stroking your dick and come help me, you moron.”

“What’s the fuckin’ point? She’s probably long gone by now.” Dabi shrugs, making no attempt to gather himself. “And does it really matter? It’s just one chick, what’s she gonna d—”

Shigaraki spikes, shoulders prickling as he lurches towards Dabi. “What’s she gonna do?” He scoffs. “Tell those fuckin’ bastardin’ heroes where our base is, that’s fuckin’ what! I’m starting to think I should reconsider putting you second in command if you’re just gon—”

Dabi throws his hands up, feigning an apologetic frown. “Alright, alright! ..Damn.” He brings the smoked pick back down to the seam of his lips, inhaling until a puff of smog rolls out of his nostrils. “I was just kidding, Boss.” He smirks from beneath his clutch of scarred knuckles.

Shigaraki eyeballs Dabi with a flat face. “Dumb-ass.” He swats Dabi on the back of the head, a bit to strongly for his liking once the cigarette previously perched between his fingers is flung onto the sludge-stained pavement.

“Nice one.” Dabi huffs with an audible breath, shuffling through his pockets for another. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to be a li—”

“Shh. Shut the fuck up.” Shigaraki hisses, pressing his index to the petals of his flaking lips. “I just heard something.”

The two stand, frozen in ear-splitting silence.

Both pairs of eyes meet, knotted and furrowed as Dabi’s arm suddenly darts out, snatching at the blackened void.

“Ah, now would ya’ look at that.”

You yelp once a mangled hand swipes at your neck, clamping down and holding you in place.

“You were right Boss, little shit was hiding here all along.” Dabi snickers, jostling your shaken form like a hunter vaunting it’s kill.

Shigaraki rolls his eyes at his comrades witty intimations, eyeing the tiny thing hanging from his clutches.

He clicks his tongue, re-adjusting Father’s thumb across his cheek-bone. “Sneaky little bitch.”

You’re bound and stiff, eyes wide and jaw locked in your shell-shocked petrification.

“What do you wanna’ do to her first?” Dabi drawls, tilting his chin down to look at you with a wicked grin. “Break her legs? Skin ‘er? Blood-eagle?”

“Hm..” Shigaraki hums, tapping a thumb against his chin. You’re spun once, twice to get all the best angles as they inspect your physique. “I mean.. It’d be a shame to let her go to waste.”

Dabi smirks, darting an intrigued brow upwards. “Oh, yeah?”

Shigaraki’s tongue slips out to wet his parched lips. “Yeah.”

“Mmh.. What a messy pup.”

Dabi coos, tracing the rim of your clit’s hood with his middle-finger. He has your nerves standing to attention every time the abrasive digit dabs against your stiff nub.

“Look how hard that little clitty is.” Shigaraki chuckles, toeing your pussy with the tip of his shoe, nudging Dabi’s marred knuckles in the process. “Could probably jerk it if you wanted to.”

“Yeah?” He tweaks the thin layer of skin surrounding the vulnerable dot, bending your thighs back further in the process. “Wanna’ try?” He swirls his tongue along the crevice of your ear, spitting into it as he croons.

“Please, let me g— Mmph!”

“Ah.” Your pleas are soon cut off by the wrinkled texture of Dabi’s palm. “I don’t wanna’ hear any cryin’ or whinging now, a’ight?”

Shigaraki sneers, squatting down to replace Dabi’s cold, stapled flesh with his own.

He pinches your clit between his crooked fingers, grinding and tweaking the tiny seed, while Dabi bounces you on his knee like a child to soothe your oncoming fit.

“See? this is what happens..” Shigaraki spits with a bitter smile. “This is what happens — when nosy little bitches like you can’t mind their own fuckin’ business.”

He pulls his arm back, tugging your tiny, quivering clit along with him until the stretched skin snaps back into place at the crest of your pudgy pussy.

Your raw cunt earns a sloppy, half-hearted spank from the hard heel of his hand, noticeably avoidant to catch you with his surely destructive finger-tips.

“Hey, woah, woah. Who said you get first dibs?” Dabi splutters, pressing your knees back together almost defensively once he sees the shimmering glare of Shigaraki’s belt buckle.

“I did.” Shigaraki grunts, clumsily rooting around inside the pouch of his stained boxers before pulling out the sluggish length of his pink-tipped cock. He’s flaccid, smooth layers of pale-porcelain skin wrinkled and folded against the chubby softness of his un-cut dick.

“You ain’t even hard yet, you shmuck.” Dabi sniggers, abiding his time by twiddling and flicking at your labia.

“Shut the fuck up. Just gimme’ a sec..”

“No way, I ain’t sittin’ here to watch you rub on your lil’ love-stick.” Dabi peers down at you through his leaden eyelashes. “We wanna’ have some fun, don’t we babe?” He smooshes the pudge of your cheeks, scrunching your lips into a pucker. He snorts, sticking his tongue out to engulf the cavity in a wet-hot kiss. “Mmh..” He swirls the leacherous muscle around and around your teeth, bobbing his head as though he was trying to suck out your soul like a dementor.

“Hey, knock it off. We’re not here to play house.” Shigaraki stutters through his raspy chokes, jabbing at his limply-hanging cock.

Dabi smiles as he retreats, smearing a muggy trail of saliva across your chin all the way to the tippy top of your nose, flicking off at the soft cartilage.

“Was just introducing myself, Boss.”

“You don’t need to introduce yourself.” Shigaraki bites.

“Awh..” Dabi coos. “Big bad villian can’t get his teeny weeny hard?”

He expects Shigaraki to explode into a feral ball of flames at this, only to be met with something much more mellow and.. down-right — timid.

“Do something..”

“What?”

Shigaraki clicks his tongue and huffs. “Do something.. Finger her or some shit..”

“Oh.”

Dabi’s struck dumb, but only for a short moment — before he’s bouncing back to his usual unperturbed and snarky demeanour.

“Well then.. let’s get down to business. What’re we feeling, you little rat? Twat or ass?”

You shiver in Dabi’s lap, the sporadic jolts of your spine spiking every-time the dewy humidity of his breath blows over your nape.

“Only kidding Babe.” Dabi smiles, a wide, wolfish, toothy grin, reaching no further than the dimples of his cheeks, half-lidded eyes set purely on the little patch of flesh below your navel. “I’m choosing.”

“Holy fuck!”

Shigaraki jerks his — now, fully erect cock. Striding up the sweaty length to halt just at the ridge of his pumped mushroom-tip, shiny with a sheen of smeared pre-cum. The tiny slip of pink peeks through his curled hand every time his fist bobs, fapping away at his chubbed up prick while his second set of fingers make themselves useful by rolling and fondling his tightened ball-sack.

“Yeah? You likin’ the show Boss-man?” Dabi’s nose crinkles from the force of his own boyish laughter, tapping your left ass-cheek for the 8th time, just to watch the squishy dough ripple around his stapled wrist.

The scrunched rim of your taught asshole barely has enough room to encompass all three of the fingers Dabi persistently tries to stuff in, shuffling and flexing the digits inside your gummy walls to engage you into a more flexible position.

“Fuck me, look at that butt.” He jerks his elbow forward, impaling you further on top of the jagged bumps of his torn knuckles.

“Ah!” It’s a guttural cry of pain that escapes your hoarse throat, bent at an angle with your stomach pressed across Dabi’s lap, consistently jouncing along his thigh at every attempted means of escape.

“Ooh, yeah.” Dabi croaks through his grit teeth, puffing from the back of his throat once he sees how the smooth curvature of your back arches as he prods at your asshole with a forth digit. “You bouncin’ that ass back for me?”

“Yeah she is, look at her.” Shigaraki can’t help but invite himself into the conversation, leaning back further against the porous red-bricks for support. “Stick her another one Dabi, I wanna’ see blood.”

“Another one? You want another one?”

“No!” You squeal.

“Yeah you do.”

Dabi hooks his left thumb around the puckered hole, stretching you open further to dig a fourth finger into the cramped space.

“Shit, yeah — I like that.” Shigaraki nods in approval as he pumps his massive dick, anchoring from his wrist to his shoulder as he squeezes his plump cock-head.

He thrusts himself off of the wall, waddling over to the scene with his jeans bandaging his thighs together.

“Uh oh.” Dabi mocks, almost giddy once he sees how frantic Shigaraki’s strokes become, huffing with humid cotton-balled clouds of steam.

“Mmh.. want..” He staggers, almost losing his balance before stationing his forearm next to Dabi’s streaked mane of ink. “Pussy.. lemme’ see her twat..”

Instead of directing your stance by your waist, Dabi deems it appropriate to use the hooked fingers clenched inside your back-pussy as a handle, pulling your little ass up into a painful arch by the tiny hole, almost tearing you through the middle on his metallic spikes in the process.

“She’s all yours.” Dabi hollers at his Boss.

“Shut your mouth, stupid cunt.”

A pair of grimy fingers slither down towards your puffed up folds, while a third taps away at your ticklish little clit. He’s no longer aiming the head of his dick at himself, but rather the penny-sized hole left unoccupied below your taint.

His hand drops in favour of clutching your stomach, clawing and grappling with the squidgy meat as he rubs his penis through the slicked up gash.

Dabi’s satisfied with just observing, perching his chin atop your shoulder to visualise how your tiny cunny is gonna take his Boss’s fat, steaming horse-cock.

“Agh! Mmh — Mmh — Shit!”

Or not..

He chooses not to mention the strings of semen shooting against the denim of his jeans, in favour of keeping his head.

Or the same blobs of pearlescent coating dribbling out of your fuckable pussy-hole, left to waste after being soiled by Shigaraki’s acerbic spunk.

Dabi makes no effort to move until he’s sure the low-hanging set of balls swinging against his knee have come to a slow waltz, rocking leisurely beneath Shigaraki’s girth.

“Was that good, you little freak?”

Shigaraki’s unsure if Dabi’s talking to you or him, uncaring enough to ask as he basks in the glowy state of his post-nut glory.

It’s surprising how long it takes for the two men to recognise the faint sniffling smudged into the leather of Dabi’s shoulder, opaque spots of crystalline tears seeping into the veined material.

Dabi juts his bottom lip out, mocking your timid warbling. “Awh, you made her cry Shiggy.”

Shigaraki rolls his eyes, swivelling as he stuffs his cock and balls back into the pocket of his ratty underwear.

“She’ll get over it.”

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

Three years late it's PINNED POST TIME! So HI, HELLO, I'm Frenchy (she/her) and I love creative shit!! Specifically, I love tabletop games (LOTS), video games (some), personal creative projects (with the burning passion of a thousand suns) and any/all manner of stories! I'll post about all of these things at any given time with little to no warning. Hope you like OCs!

Personal Tag List

hush frenchy - general talking tag, often used for whinging about personal stuff or excitedly ranting about my various d&d campaigns oc crap - general OC tag, usually for ask games and for shouting into the void about my little play-pretend guys my writing - what it says on the tin. includes bits of drafts and finished pieces good things - my feel-good tag. great for bad days seven cities - writing project tag, currently in stasis while I sort my brain out fortune's favor - campaign tag for my first and longest running d&d game. ongoing. currently playing: Valtish Ankara i need a curse of strahd tag - campaign tag for the CoS game that I'm in. ongoing. currently playing: Elowyn "Wyn" Bannon faerun's finest - placeholder campaign tag for my newest game. ongoing. currently playing: Patronella "Nellie" Callowmire the hupperdook crew - campaign tag for a former Wildemount game. on semi-permanent hiatus. played: Esme Marshcote

Specific OCs and tags below the cut!

OC Tags

(purple is general info tag, green is aesthetic/inspo tag! they overlap sometimes. sue me.)

D&D

valtish - the val tag - Valtish "Val" Ankara, tiefling battlemaster fighter/paladin of fharlanghn. sailor. (she/her) wyn bannon - the wyn tag - Elowyn "Wyn" Bannon, tiefling grave cleric. noble. (she/her) nellie callowmire - the nellie tag - Patronella "Nellie" Callowmire, gnome arcane trickster rogue. scribe. (she/her) esme marshcote - the esme tag - Esme Marshcote, gnome/water genasi astral soul monk. criminal. on hiatus. (she/her) the fizz tag - Mariella "Fizz" Ippkin, gnome trickery cleric of olidammara. acolyte. on hiatus. (she/her) luxus bray - Luxus "Lux" Bray, water genasi swashbuckler rogue. noble. currently not played. (he/him) zephyr - the zephyr tag - Zephyr, air genasi drunken master monk. noble. retired. (she/her)

FFXIV

tritchet pock - Tritchet Pock, lalafell DRG main with a little DRK thrown in for fun, youngest sister to the Warrior of Light and perpetual right hand of the former Azure Dragoon, whether he wants it or not. Currently in: Dawntrail. (she/her)

Dragon Age

alexandria cousland - Alexandria Cousland, human noble. Warden, Reaver warrior, powerless in the face of one (1) Crow assassin. mori ingellvar - Moritani "Mori" Ingellvar, dwarf Mourn Watcher. Warrior and rookie Dread Wolf hunter turned unwilling leader of the Veilguard. Like plants and cute dwarf women who tend them.

Original Works

alex sheffield - the alex tag - Alexandria Sheffield, 24, main protagonist and problem child of the Seven Cities cast. (she/her or he/him) tahir - Tahir, 38, veteran sailor and right hand to the little brat that turned his life around. (he/him) davin & finn - Davin & Finn (last name pending), 26, twin menaces whose main claim to fame is that they can fix anything that they break. (he/him) adelinna carrillo - Adelina Carrillo, 27, Spanish transplant to Santo Domingo who hopped the first ship that came into port. Fortunately for everyone, it was Alex's. (she/her) jonathan mauntell - Jonathan Mauntell, 32, Englishman in all but location, legend hunter, book lover, and absolutely, hopelessly gay. (he/him) myrine - ???? (she/her)

[celticcrossanon]

Votre lecture est terrifiante et ce qui me terrifie le plus, c'est que ces deux-là s'en sortent toujours. Peu importe ce qu’ils font, ils s’en sortent sans problème. Ce qui me porte à croire qu’ils finiront par gagner. Je suis désolé si je suis trop défaitiste pour certains, mais pour moi, ce cirque noir aurait dû être arrêté depuis longtemps. Les vrais coupables sont au palais et cela va très mal finir.

Translation via the internet:

Your reading is terrifying and what terrifies me the most is that these two always get away with it. No matter what they do, they get by without a problem. Which leads me to believe that they will eventually win. I'm sorry if I'm too defeatist for some, but for me, this black circus should have been stopped a long time ago. The real culprits are in the palace and it will end very badly.

Hi Nonny,

The reading was awful. It is the most revolting energy I have felt in any tarot reading.

I think the reason the Harkles appear to get away with things is that they don't stop. Other people face consequences and at least stop to think about things. The Harkles just keep on going when anyone else would be completely embarrassed, and then they whinge about the consequences and say they are unfair. The people I hold responsible are those that enable their behaviour, and yes, I do count the people in the palace among these (especially those who want Harry back and refuse to cut him off) but they are not all of the enablers. Nigeria did not have to give them this trip. Invictus Games could remove Harry as a patron. Netflix could void their contract - etc and so on. It is not just the palace who is enabling the Harkles to continue with their actions.

It is telling that even with all of the support from various people, the Harkles have sunk to low-tier celebrity status and have to pull stunts to stay in the news. The wife sells jam, the husband does goodness knows what at a coaching organisation, and both of them are a walking joke. It's a far cry from Trooping the Colour at Buckingham Palace, and they will fall even further, no matter how many branches (the Nigeria trip) they grab on the way down.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The End of the World

She hobbled beneath the canopy of soul-oaks. Their bone-white branches intertwined, blocking out almost all light, casting a haze of crimson onto the grove. Her body felt infinitely heavy, like she was dragging the weight of a world with her. In a way, she was.

Her golden trail of blood dragged like a snail's slime, staining the scarlet leaves with the last dregs of a god's life. Her wings drooped on the ground, limp. It was the end of her, and she knew it. Yet she continued walking, through the faint dappled light filtering from beneath heart-leaves, into the clearing beyond.

Her job was completed, her succession settled. She could lay down her arms and die peacefully. Oh, how her heart yearned to do so, and her body was falling apart with the need to take a final nap. But she knew she would never awaken, and she had one tiny task to complete.

In all her millennia of wandering through the planet, she had never found the End of the World.

The soul-trees were thinning to reveal a rocky beach, and a pitch black starless sky. Wind howled against the remaining trees, screaming a mournful harmony to a world long gone. Just a few steps away lay a precipice, a thin carcass of stone overlooking the Void. An endless darkness. Infinite. All consuming. The End of the World.

And if she had it her way, it would be her end too. No reincarnation, no restless ghost roaming the galaxy in search of a cure to its lassitude. No, she would have nothing but eternal sleep.

The wind caroused with her hair, toying with the battle braids, nipping at her exposed skin like a rambunctious child. But she had no eyes for anything save that ledge. 

Sour bile and sickness. That was what she smelled of. A dying woman. She had lived so long, so very very long. Long enough that she thought herself to be immortal.

"But the sun will rise and the mountains will fall and all things will come to an end," she croaked, reciting a trace of a poem from another age. The rest had been lost to the void, just as she was soon to be.

One step closer to the edge. Another step. The pain was excruciating, every millennia of her life weighing down on her body. 

She had been beautiful, once. Fearsome, awe-inspiring, worshiped by all. But she was old, old, old beyond belief.

And her skin, once clear and milky pale, had crumpled like paper, folding and crinkling until her face was an old map of all her travels, becoming ashen and waxy.

Her hair had once been the passionate scarlet of fire, her eyes the crimson of blood and battle-lust. The colour had been drained away from her, leaving naught but a shell of her magnificence. 

She had towered over the mere mortals, made them cower and whinge with her great magic. Yet here she was, hunched over herself, unable to so much as summon a spark. 

She would have wept to see herself reduced to this, but she was too weary to feel such passions. 

One more step. She stood on the tip of the ledge. The Void stared into her, an ancient enemy. She met its gaze evenly. From the very beginning, she knew she would die in its maw. 

In the fathomless depths, she saw her past. Empires wrought by her hand and obliterated at her will. Civilisations, rising and falling like ants. Temples and cathedrals alike raised in her honour, whilst every other god dwindled to nothing. Feasts and festivals in her name, vast tributes of meat and wine. Wars of faith, crusades to appease her. Luxuries and pleasures beyond a mere mortal's comprehension.

But everything she had treasured, everything she had truly loved, was gone. Her children, slain at her own hand to keep her throne. Her sisters, lost to the annals of time. Her love, her one true love, resting beneath the ocean waves. And now, she would die too. Her name would be snatched away by the wind. Her statues and temples would crumble into oblivion. 

She closed her eyes. Clumsy fingers removed her necklace, the mark of her power, tossing it onto the sandy bank. Perhaps someday, an explorer might stumble upon it. With the last dregs of her heart, she wished it was so. In the end, she did not want to be forgotten.

She took the last step.

Then she fell into the Void, and welcomed its cold embrace.

[lost-in-time-marie]

I’m trying to have faith. She is an annoying neighbor, always nagging about trimming my side of the hedges, bringing the trash cans in from the curb. She is the tension in my neck when I walk up the driveway home from work. I had always been annoyed by her, I didn’t understand her, an irrational old woman, stubborn and steadfast and set in her ways.

Now I find myself wondering if there’s a purpose to all that whinging. If, maybe, sometimes, faith knew a little more than me, about what’s out there in this world, about what’s really good for me, not what I convince myself I need. I force myself to see direction when all I feel is road blocks, for the sake of faith. A trust fall with the Universe as my partner, if I give the void all my best, surely that echo bounces back to me eventually.

~K.

[maichan808]

EEP! We're not even getting error codes now, but rather a landing page. THIS PORTENDS A LONG BATTLE AHEAD...

[whinge] Meanwhile, I have been sitting on my finished MDZS RBB art for 4 months and Ao3 just happens to go down on my posting date. *cries into the tumblr void* [/whinge]