#talking oc

[letstalktea]

Contents: M!OC x M!OC, vampires, oral sex, cockwarming,

Lachlan Riddick belongs to @inkyquince

Dread was an expert at being on his knees. 200+ years of attending church along with just as many years seducing who knew how many kine so he could gobble them up had taught him the skill well. If he were a lesser man with only one mortals worth of experience, he may have given up on his task by now, but Dread was disciplined and patient and-

Losing his absolute mind!

His mouth was full of his favorite cock – the biggest, fastest, juiciest one he'd ever seen in his 200 years – and he was stuck nursing the beautiful thing rather than worshipping it because his precious Lala wouldn't give in and just fuck his mouth already. It was a cruel joke that he could be nearly choking on the thing – or, he would be if he could choke – and still not be able to enjoy it fully. But he supposed this was retribution for his own stupid idea.

“You’ve been ignoring me,” Dread said as he pushed a strand of hair behind his ear and undid Lachlan’s torn jeans enough to free his massive, heavy cock. He smiled mischievously as he kissed the bulbous head of Lachlan’s cock. Once, twice, then a quick lick along the veins that ran through the length of his shaft. “It’s not fair.”

Ignoring the small Lasombra for any amount of time was unfair by his standards. Lala could spoil him every moment of the day and it still wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the part of him that demanded to be adored.

Lachlan looked down at him with a toothy grin and eyes like fog that Dread could get lost in over and over again. “Do what you gotta do.”

Dread returned Lala’s look with a cocky smirk and a wink. “Bet you won’t be able to ignore me anymore after this~”

Then, he parted his black tinted lips wide and wrapped them around Lala's thick cock head, swallowing him down deep into the back of his throat and waiting for Lala to admit defeat to his well-trained mouth.

That was a long time ago though. If Dread could tell time, he would probably even be able to say just how obnoxiously long he had been on his knees while mindlessly drooling around the cock. Goodness knows he was painfully hard just imagining when Lala would finally snap and fuck his throat raw.

His pale icy eyes looked up at Lala, trying to see how close he was to cracking. Based on the knowing, arrogant grin staring down at him through strings of flesh, the answer was not at all.

"You gonna give up, sugar tits?"

Dread's brows knitted together.

"Hey, I'm loving you slobbering all over my dick. I ain't gonna stop you from sucking on it."

That sounded really good right now; sucking on Lala's dick like it was an ice pop in summer (not that Dread knew what it was like to actually eat an ice pop, but the vivid image in his head of licking and sucking and deepthroating such a task treat was a familiar one all the same). The thought left him squirming where he kneeled, hips rolling against the air in a futile attempt to get any kind of friction. 

The humiliation and frustration of their stand-off was made worse when he imagined how many kine must have been watching both of them with lust in their eyes; the same that were hollering for him to start the real show already. He didn't mind an audience, but a part of him was twitching to tell them to fuck off and stop staring at his Lala – his Lala who was handsome enough to make any whore (read: Dread) drop their panties with just a look and absolutely vile enough to leave those same whores little better than the fleshlights he went through so easily.

His head began to spin, filled with thoughts of how brutally Lachlan would tear up his throat the moment he snapped. He'd shove that monster so violently down his throat that it would choke him. Lala would pump his stomach full of hot, thick cum then pick him up and use his tight hole whatever way he wanted after all his teasing and that… that was a hot thought.

Dread was the one who finally gave in.

He didn't bother to hide or disguise the disgustingly wet, sloppy sounds that filled the air as he began to bob his head over Lala's length. His tongue hungrily slumped at the stream of veins that ran across Lala's cock, moaning deep in his throat at the taste he loved so dearly and hoping that Lala could feel how deep his perverse desire to be fucked stupid ran.

As Dread began to pull back, he felt two fists ball in his hair.

His gaze trailed upward – past the hem of Lachlan's old tank top, over the shiny golden piercings that littered his collar bone, ignoring the mouth and melting lips he wanted to so badly devour with his own – until his cool blue eyes were locked on the cloudy ones staring back down at him, hungry and eager.

Lala's fangs glistened through his flaps of skin and something twisted around inside of Dread and made him melt.

“Ya done fuckin’ around, sugar tits?”

Dread was back to humping the air, silently begging for what he knew came next.

Lachlan’s fists tightened in the smaller kindred’s long black hair and pushed him forward until his nose was pressed against the curly hairs that grew across his pelvis. He was gonna fucking enjoy ruining his throat after putting up with that bullshit teasing for so long.

Lachlan loved a whore that knew how to use their mouth – or any hole, really – but tolerating Dread’s tantrum was a way to test him. Cockwarming was fun as shit, especially when the hole holding onto his dick was nice and warm, but he didn't want to hold back; he wanted to fuck that face that looked up at him so adoringly and twist it round until is was a mess for him.

He pulled back on Dread's hair, slowly pulling the man off his cock before violently shoving him forward again while thrusting his hips into the wet mouth that was now sucking at him so eagerly.

The whines and whimpers that vibrated around his cock begged for more, for something rougher and less caring and aggressive. Dread wanted Lala right now, however he would have him.

"Get it sloppy, pretty boy.” Because as soon as Dread was done, Lachlan was going to yank him off and fuck his ass so hard it would jumpstart his heart back to life.

[word-count-bullet-count]

I've been seeing a lot of knight posts recently. pretty great

[crow-caller]

as a child there's nothing cooler than a kid who gets subjected to evil experiments and gains special abilities. it's even cooler if these abilities also cause unfathomable suffering to use/against others. children love stories like this.

[everchased]

THAT one's goin on the list too now!

[rae-butter]

Honestly, I love it when characters relapse. When someone who’s gotten over their anger issues falls into a situation so out of their depth they fall back on their old habits. When someone who’s learned to open up becomes a recluse again in order to cope with something outside their control.

There’s just something so horrible, so toxic, about watching a character grow and then slip back into their old selves in order to cope, bc you know they still care, that they’re the same inside, but watching them hurt so hard they don’t know what else to do brings a sense of catharsis.

[kottkrig]

People liking your personal OCs is still such a crazy feeling, I've been doing this for years and ppl asking about them still fills my entire heart with warmth and idk how to handle it

You enjoy this fictional guy I made up for fun?? Whose only content is random artwork or writing made by me and a handful of other artists at most? They have no show/book/game with a large fandom, it's just one person with an art blog?? I love u

[medium5]

I am actually so serious I think it really messes with a childs creativity and joy to tell them to never make a mary sue OC. Like that unbridaled form of joy where you make a self insert OC who super cool and everyone loves them and they have every superpower in the world SHOULD be something a kid makes, it nourishes their ability to create things for fun and not be stifled by "oh but what if my character is too overpowered and cringey...". whatever

[thenevarranaccord]

What’s really jumping out at me on my second playthrough is that the writers of the first three games understood that your character was the main character. The Veilguard writers clearly thought that the main characters were their characters, the companions.

Every scene is about setting the companions up as cool or competent or sympathetic. Often, this is done at Rook’s expense. The companions get all the witty one-liners; Rook’s attempts at humor not only frequently fall flat, but are frequently called out for falling flat (even when they’re completely automatic and the player has no say in them).

The companions have all the knowledge and skills; Rook just brought them all together and gives them all pep talks so they can focus. I’m trying to edit out all of the comments where Rook is like “Um… what????” from my videos, and let me tell you, it takes WORK. There are A LOT of them. I can count on one hand the number of times when the Inquisitor or Hawke comes across as dumb, but it seems to be a built-in, unavoidable part of Rook’s character. I have not selected a single “purple” option in all of Act 1, and Rook is still coming across as the kid who tries to be the class clown to cover for the fact that he’s always confused. Rook’s role in most scenes is to say “Uhhh… what?” so that the companions look smart.

Rook is always the one offering sympathy and never the one getting it. No one actually comes to comfort you after Varric’s death. No one asks you how you’re feeling about having to lead the team now that Varric is gone. No one tries to reassure you or give you advice for dealing with the trickster god haunting your dreams. We’re told that Neve could keep Solas out of your head, but she never actually offers to do this for you. No one comforts a Shadow Dragon Rook when Minrathous is destroyed or a Grey Warden Rook when Weisshaupt is destroyed. Rook’s problems don’t matter. Only the problems of main characters matter.

Rook is a secondary character in their own story.

[grape-souffle]

Felt the urge to draw @gooseworx s roblox oc because the design is adorable

[spicymancer]

More like morning would amirite?

[lil-vibes]

i love it when narinder is unintentionally creepy lol

[letstalktea]

Married at Sea

Content: Fem!Harpy x Reader, abductions, mentions of rape, hallucinations, oral sex, implied death Word Count: 1.1k

"Do these men respect you as they should? Or are you only a hapless prisoner in their arrogant eyes?" A voice calls from beyond the waves licking against the side of the ship. "Don't you desire more than to simply be the prize earned for razing your home and people to the ground?"

You sit up from the hard wooden floor, the thin fabric of your gown – an inadequate barrier to block the damp, frigid sea air from seeping deep into your bones – falling back into place from where it had been bunched up after the last of your captors had come to visit you for a nightly trist.

The voice from beyond continues, "Come. I shall show you freedom." 

It feels like a dream as you rise to your bare feet, the grain of the wood scratching along your soles as you stagger toward the stairs leading toward the main deck. The hatch separating you from the fresh air of the deck is weighed down as you try to push up on it; likely to keep you exactly where you are.

The small foreign spark of longing within you flickers for a brief moment before fading as your senses begin to clear and you wonder what you are trying to do. To rebel is to be hit and whipped. To wish for more is to be disappointed. To remember your home is to have to acknowledge all that has been stolen from you.

"I can end your hurt and repay your captors in kind," the voice sings.

The daze in your mind begins to crescendo once again, but this time you feel as if it isn't just the voice speaking hollow words, but weaving promises.

"Shall I show you desire beyond imagining? That which you long for most?" The voice whispers directly into your ear and you feel as if you are suddenly somewhere else entirely while also somehow being nowhere at all. 

You are laid bare in the nothingness, naked as the day you were born and completely open to some other power coiling itself around you. Warm fingertips, calloused and rough, rake down your midsection until they are dipping between your legs as something long, wet, and hungry gingerly licks up the side of your neck.

It isn't the same as when those men touch you. Their grip is possessive, commanding, and forceful. The way these hands caress you is far more gentle, more tender than even your fantasies.

"What a beautiful creature you are." The voice continues to sing, but this time it is coming from right in front of you and spoken by a figure slowly fading into existence.

Whatever she is, she isn't human. She is humanoid in shape, but where there should be skin there are only feathers. Her legs are distinctly avion in that they bend the wrong way at the knee and end in sharp talons. Her hands are the only thing familiar about her forelimbs, as everything past her wrist evolves into wings. But the most haunting aspect is the way her yellow sclera glow even in the darkness of wherever your mind has wandered.

"Beautiful creature, won't you let me embrace you?"

She is a monster. You can see that clearly even through the fog in your head, but – as she trails her lips down your chest and stops to kiss your stomach while her rough fingers continue to rub between your legs – you don't mind. Even as a monster, she is the least monstrous of all the people who have touched your body as of late. She is certainly the only one that cared to ask you for permission rather than acting entitled to it.

Without giving her a verbal answer, as if she heard your very thoughts longing for her, she finishes kissing her way down between your legs. Her tongue laps at your sex as her hands move to explore the rest of your body. 

There's something comforting in the way she touches you. In another life, you would have liked to take a lover like her, to be held and adored in the bed you may have shared. If given the chance you would still like that. The thought of it, how gentle and loving she is even with such a fearsome appearance, makes you wonder if she is the answer to prayer you'd stopped voicing the moment you had been taken from your bed and onto this ship. It sparks the flames of desire in you anew.

Her mouth retreats from your body just as quickly as it had latched onto it. You stare at her smiling face, full of teeth so sharp that the mere sight of them feels like they are cutting you to pieces. "Follow my voice and you shall have this and your escape. I eagerly await you."

You want to reach out for her, to tell her to stay by your side if even for a moment longer, but she is quickly gone. Even her song sounds far away through the wood of the ship keeping you from her.

You have to find her.

You stare up at the hatch keeping you locked below deck and curse it. You curse it so vehemently that the gods must shudder at your rage. You curse it so thoroughly for keeping you barred that you barely feel the first whinge of pain as you smack your shoulder against it. The second time you smash yourself into the hatch, you ignore the pain. The third time, your shoulder has gone numb and the pain means nothing anymore. It all means nothing as you try to break yourself free. 

By the time the hatch finally came off its hinges, your shoulder had turned black from bruises. But you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were finally out of the ship’s hull and could walk barefooted across the deck.

The wood felt wet and sticky below your feet, like walking through syrup. All you could focus on, however, was the quiet of the night broken only by the song calling out to you from the distant rocky shore. The men who had captured you laid limp and immobile on the deck floor, but none stirred as you walked past them toward the wheel of the ship.

“You’ve done so well, Beautiful,” the melodic voice hummed in your ear. It felt like that avian woman grabbed your hands and placed them against the ship wheel even though she was nowhere to be seen. “Now come to me and be free.”

With no experience but drive buzzing at the back of your skull, you smiled and jerked the wheel to the side to turn the ship toward the rocky cliffs from where the voice came.

[demaparbat-hp]

*pats Zuko's head* This bad boy can fit so many near-death experiences.

.

Read For the Spirits Chapter VIII here!

[wolfythewitch]

Guys you have to understand, every horny comment I've ever made was a bit. I am so very asexual

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Doodle dump ft. Ya girl Vanessa