#Courses in erode

[miyuka1709]

Do you think you can wait forever?

Oh Hero. The Voice of the Hero.

You deserve so much after everything you've been through, after everything you've done. Please take care of yourself just as you have taken care of us (TLQ). Please only want the best for yourself just as you've always wanted the best for everyone else. Please. Take care. I love you so much.

Here's a kinda ooc scene of Connie and Hero. They deserve a hug.

You're here! Hahaha, I really thought I'd lose my way around again. This probably sounds so sappy, but I'm really glad you're here. (Thank you for being patient with me.)

What if Hero throws the blade out of the window for old time's sake? He'd probably laugh and take the blade back to keep it safe for/from the others. I dunno.. he definitely wouldn't entrust it to the more hostile voices.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

just read one of your recent post the one with NewPlates which is such an interesting idea

I haven't read everything yet a bit distracted but just wanted to add an idea unrelated or related I don't know to what you were saying

I like going two routes with Chara.

Route A: Chara does exists i don't think Killer ever directly says they are a hallucination he just points at his head it would be like how Frisk determination woke them up but instead Killer Determination woke them up after their second death. Killer just refuses to believe they are a ghost and only thinks of them as a hallucination.

Route B: I like the idea of that red Killer from the comic where Dream talks about how he can tell their is still kindness in their soul. Red Killer is also Chara its the determination that twists through his soul it simply takes whatever form it believes Killer will listen to whether that's as Chara during stage 1 or a darker Sans during stage 2. It doesn't bother to try in stage 3 they won't listen no matter what while stage 4 its able to easily bend its will to its wishes of erasure and death

~Musical Anon

Killer himself never uses the word hallucination, but rahafwabas out of universe has answered several asks stating Chara isn’t real—having lost a sense of what is and isn’t real due to the constant Resets—and is just in his head, also mentioned a feeling of being watched even though no one is there. Ditto for hearing the voices of others from his timeline in his head, seeing their shadowy figures.

Iirc, Dream said he felt positivity from killer—not much about his kindness exactly, but I get what you mean. Route B is an interesting idea—giving how Rahafwabas describes Killer’s Stages as a war between two souls, sans’ monster soul and the determination soul.

[pyjamacryptid]

‘The forest is forever because it dies and dies and so it lives.’ - Tales from Earthsea: Dragonfly, by Ursula K. Le Guin

[flamemittens]

Genuinely confused as to what the benefit is of pre-ordering Veilguard, or any other AAA game for that matter, given:

a) Pre-ordering used to be about reserving a physical copy of the game, which in today's climate where almost everything is digital, is largely irrelevant.

and b) The 'pre-order' bonuses are fluff and filler items that are likely not limited time only, and will probably be available after the game's release for future purchase at your leisure as a little DLC cosmetic bundle.

So what exactly is the point of pre-ordering AAA games these days?

Other than, as this post says, to let the boardroom execs know that people will throw their money at them without waiting to see if a product is actually good or not, or if it even works properly - just because it has a certain franchise/brand name attached to it?

[claudiablogger]

people would understand armanlou a lot better if they were familiar w marriages of convenience. hard to see it as any other. starts off a flirtatious courting turns into a threat of social exile (at best) and/or death (think of the child. stay for the child.) then a hard won fumble at companionship you think you can endure -- before long you are forced to, with little idea of the extent of your agency. it's literally an arranged marriage w domestic violence

[momentomori24]

Normally I don't like calling out specific names when it's a large number of people doing stupid shit but holy fucking shit I actually need Limus to log off and never breathe a word about anything Hazbin related ever again

[mikkolas]

so the game plan here is for every finnish cat to score yes I see I see...

[diceroulette]

i'm seriously tired of this like,,, constant feeling of never really feeling important to anyone. and it's like, it's 100% on me, it is 100% my fault i feel this way but,,, eugh

[ananinara]

Something I really hate is that, when telling people X is not proven/isn't necessarily true, they alway jump to the conclusion that I saying that X is false.

Like no, you know that not only two option for every affirmation, especially in real life. Saying that does not mean that I believe in X's falsity, nor do I believe in X's truth , but choose to NOT to believe in either of those UNTIL conclusive evidence

[s2academy]

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[chiefwolfqueen]

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[babakoli]

i NEED to get off twitter

[mybrainproblems]

I don't want to do capitalism work, I want to do garden work 😭

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 14 — HE'S POSSESSIVE & YANDERE

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — zhongli, dottore, capitano, pantalone

— warnings. — fem! reader, toxic behavior, tw yandere, mentions of baby trapping (dottore's part), rough syx, mentions of blood (pantalone's part), biting/marking, dirty talk, brat taming, jealousy

⚝ ZHONGLI

zhongli's grip on your waist tightens as though the weight of his soul hinged on the shape of your hips as he whispers your name like a sacred hymn, his lips tenderly grazing over the hollow of your throat— and morax cannot stop repeating himself, mine, you hear it? he mouths it against your skin so sensually, mine in this life, mine in the next, mine across every cycle of erosion.

his cock carves into you with a loving patience that amplifies the fire in his gaze, he wasn't one to fuck you rough and deep right away, not at all, because zhongli was far too old for haste, you know? instead, he buries himself slowly so you can feel it all, with a god's hunger for persistence.

you swear you can feel his every vein graze through your walls, his slow but consistent pumps rocking into you further and attempting to dissolve into your very body as his forehead rests against your own, sweat pearling where your bodies are fused, and his eyes— amber, ancient, stare straight through your soul.

"do you think i could forget this?" he groans above you, his voice aching from pleasure, though his thrusts were gradually becoming more brutal now, "do you think i could ever let you leave, now that i've felt you like this?"

your spine arches at his filthy choice of words and you can feel how soaked you were at this point, your slick dripping around his length in humiliating gushes with every new thrust, your cunt pulsing desperately as he moans out your name, archons, moans— as if your need were his own suffering.

zhongli goes all the way in, fucking every inch, every thick, pulsing vein through your cunt until it's all messily shoved inside you, forcing your walls to stretch around him like they were never meant to, like your body had no choice but to take it. fuck, yes it burns, of course, he's part dragon after all and it's too much yet at the same time, not enough.

you can feel his tip scratch against your most aching spots repeatedly, rubbing them apart and pushing up against the limits of what you could take as he made you twitch and clamp around him like you're choking on the intrusion as your nails drag across the large expanse of his toned back.

zhongli groans at the sharpness digging into his skin as his fingers squeeze your hips bruisingly, tight enough so it's not considered gentle anymore, not tender nor sweet, yet hungry, completely fucking gone.

"even stone," he gasps, no, he breaks, his voice torn from the pit of him, as if his divinity was talking through him, "even stone breaks with time, but not me, not for you, i will not erode, i will remain with you forever," your walls clench around him as he crumbles, forehead crashing to your shoulder with his breath hot and shaking against your wet skin, resembling your complete warmth being the altar and his body the offering.

⚝ DOTTORE

your body utterly rewires with dottore's hand's around your throat— not tightly, not choking, but claiming, like a collar held by his master, with his breath coming in through harsh, delighted pants against your ear as he forces your legs wider with one knee, sinking into you with merciless, almost scientific precision.

"oh, how you weep for it," he laughs, his voice alight with that hideous brilliance, the unholy thrill of unraveling something delicate and divine. dottore continues watches you sob beneath him with eyes as big as saucers, your overwhelmingly broken noises turning his face in awe like a laboratory specimen gone beautiful as he laughs, his expression bright with mania.

"such a reaction— such exquisite collapse," he groans before tenderly licking the tears off your cheek like he's tasting a drug synthesized just for him, so slow and lewd it made your cheeks burn as his tongue trails down to your tensed jaw and gulping throat, obviously where your pulse pounded like it's trying to escape.

"your body tells me the truth," your pulse flutters where his voice settles, rasping low like a warning, "it opens for me even as your mind screams or begs, perhaps? you begs so sweetly," as he thrusts into you again, your hips immediately betraying you and rising up to meet his blows with no mercy for your own good.

"you would never betray me, correct? say it," he echoes mockingly as his warm exhales bleed over your neck, "no, no, this is devotion, this is biology," as he cups your face like a holy relic, feigning any kind of love and fondness within his eyes as for a moment, it could truly be believed that you mattered to him.

if he could, dottore wants to stay in your body forever, not just for this moment, but as a permanent echo as every thrust was a question carved into your velvety insides—will you keep me? will you survive me? as your cunt answers without mercy, sucking him in and trapping him within a tight constriction, fluttering tight, shamefully eager to please your lover.

and to be frank, the friction was slowly about to become unbearable and you do not remember for how long the both of you were going for already as you're full past your capacity, your nerves screaming and shriveling at his dangerous, rigid thrusts that landed with slick, guttural slaps on slaps on slaps which sounds like sin itself, fuck— you feel so filthy with dottore on top of you, it's so wet, loud and nasty that your body was taking him with a noise that should humiliate you, yet it only made you crave him harder.

your back arches, hands clawing uselessly at the sheets yet he doesn't consider stopping anytime soon as he fucks you sharp and unforgiving, each drag of his cock slithering through your walls was calculated to make you scream out in pleasure— it's designed to be too much, every inch of him stretching you wide and cruelly slow as though he's measuring exactly how far he could push you before your body gave up on its stamina.

every step dottore took shook you to your core, yet when he suddenly presses a kiss to your temple, feeling as though he was deranged with fondness, your body shakes underneath his comforting cold, "there's no version of reality where you'll leave this bed without me staining your womb," words fall out of him as his voice drips with venom and delight, "i'll cut your name into my skin if it means you'll never forget mine."

⚝ CAPITANO

all you could hear was the sickeningly loud sound of your bodies connecting and becoming one with the mess between your thighs serving as a reminder of hours gone by as capitano breathes deeply into his chest— each inhale awakening a tremor through you and each exhale hovering hot against your mouth.

capitano doesn't say much to you aside from watching you intently, because you see? the harbinger doesn't have to, in fact, the silence coils around you like a chain, thick with intent, heavy with the gravity of his presence alone as words would only cheapen it— this unbearable, suffocating stillness where only his breath echoed something shallow on top of you.

his gaze pins you down without his weight even trying to, his eyes darker than sin and steadier than death when you realize— no voice could ever claim you the way his silence already did. capitano possesses you with absence, commands you without a sound and without a doubt, your body would always obey him, through chains and trembles, welcoming him open and spread.

his cock forces its way deeper now, each rock of hips impossibly thick as you bite down on his shoulder just to keep from moaning so loudly as you're shaking through the overstimulation he caused, completely wrecked, and yet he hasn't said a single word yet.

instead, his massive hands held your hips in place, his thumbs bruising into your bone as he pushes in again— slowly, even slower than before, not to mention cruel as you swear you can feel him in your lungs.

the weight of his body crushes the air from your lungs as then—finally, the voice of a man who rarely spoke, yet when he did, the world stilled to listen, "this is what your body was built for."

⚝ PANTALONE

"do you have any idea what it costs me to behave?" pantalone spits out as he shoves you flat on your stomach, one hand forcing your cheek into the mattress, the other kneading the flesh of your ass.

by this point, you're drooling, legs kicked open and cunt stuffed, your arousal and his cum leaking down your thighs, "what costs you not to ruin the moment? tell me, for you to stop smiling at someone who isn't me?"

he slides in with a wet, agonizing stretch as you welcome him with your back arching off the mattress when one arm loops around your body to pull you closer. his cock bullies its way impossibly deep thick inside you, and every move of his was screaming rich and cruel as pantalone fucks you like he negotiates— with control and precision, aside from enough venom to bleed you dry, every slap of him scraping you raw from the inside out.

his voice was like a hiss in your ear, thoroughly sharp with jealousy, "you're mine, everything you have is mine, your cunt, your moans, the pathetic way you soak the sheets— all of it," as he belittles you, slapping his hips against you so wildly the sound of it all almost drowned out his voice.

you sob into the pillow as he repeatedly slams into you, again and again, losing control as you're too occupied with salivating in the feeling of his thick cock pounding you relentlessly hard, fucking into you so deeply with everything he's got as his fingers dig into your hips, your stomach caving in from how deep he hits your insides, from the unforgiving stretch and the endless mess between your thighs.

"you wanna be greedy?" pantalone sneers, "you want more? more cock? more cum? i'll give you everything, i'll fill you so full, it'll spill out every time you try to walk away from me," as his rhythm breaks down into desperate, needy thrusts as he bites your shoulder hard to somehow contain himself.

without a doubt, the harbinger fucks like he owns time itself— as if he bought it? truly controlled and luxuriating in every inch of your body like it's the spoils of an empire. yet when he loses it at last, oh, and when the mask cracks you ask? his rhythm shatters into frenzied, gasping thrusts, each one an obvious confession of everything money cannot buy.

at last, he cums with his lips hovering over your throat before sinking his teeth into your shoulder sharp and punishing, almost brutal until a faint amount of blood blossoms under his mouth like a signature as he moans into the subtle wound, his breathing ragged and body spent

"you belong to me, do you understand? i’ll never let you go," how befitting of pantalone to fuck you like he's angry at you giving someone else a faint amount of attention— if he could even claim for it to be the reason still when in reality, the harbinger simply wanted to put you in your place.

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[nullnobodynothing]

for the record i fucking guess heres how shit just went:

1. said i looked sad. told him a little bit of how hard the past while has been and about the dissociative episode i had the other day felt and how much amnesia and how badly ive been doing since

2. asked if he could tell me something and talked about how scared he was about me cutting, his fears about me being out of control and that im going to die and hes going to find me

3. i clarified my experience in an attempt to alleviate his fears and tried to reassure him

4. he seemed to feel a little better, was going through the laundry found a shirt with blood on it i tried to hide and became very upset again. said somewhere in there (i think he asked? i think i was crying?) that im upset that im hurting him because im hurting. he said thats why he didnt want to talk about what hes thinking (i had asked what he was thinking and he had said still the bloody shirt and thats why he was having a hard time). like because i was upset that he was sad and scared because of me. (commentary; the shit i fucking go through trying not to KILL MYSELF)

5. ended up saying hes glad we talked about it and that he would be thinking about it (the self harm) anyway so not to feel guilty for bringing it up (i dont think i did?) because he wanted to talk about it anyway

6. somehow after that ended up talking about how hopeless he feels and his future is like a black hole and nothing brings him joy anymore. im jusy trying to fucking hold it together at this point.

7. i dont remember what else after that a bunch of shit where im just laying there wanting to leave and hes clinging to me going back and forth between being chatty and fine and crying about. stuff i wish i could remember. at the end a lot of me telling him i want him to be able to relax and feel satisfied with the time i spend with him and not talk about all this catastrophic shit when he has to wake up early for work and is trying to wind down

[wildgirllz]

I'm not sure if you are familiar with the "mating press" position, but the little horny voice inside my head says that Tommy would absolutely love it. Just imagine reader having her legs on his shoulders while he pins her down to the bed because he needed to let off steam. Of course, this is completely consensual! Reader is willingly helping her husband out like the sweet housewife she is <3 Would you be up to write something like that? Sorry for being so disgustingly horny about him... (⁠´⁠-⁠﹏⁠-⁠`⁠；⁠)

Omg i love this request!! HAPPY 1K MY BEAUTIES!!!

Mating press with Tommy <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, SIZE KINK OML (I'm sorry I couldn't help myself) pnv, afab reader, he cums inside because he's a loving husband, overall just porn with a little plot

It was a sunny day, the warm Texan breeze on your shoulders as you washed dishes from breakfast. A hefty pile of dishes, Tommy was not a small man to feed. As the warm water eroded the bacon grease from your castiron, you heard some stomping from the yard. You smile, you can imagine how he was looking at that very moment; his mask covering half of his sweaty face, hair stuck to his forehead, shoulders wide and casting a big shadow over whatever he was blocking. His tall frame was delicious, his arms, his hands that held the majority of your torso already made you hot on the back of your neck.

Lost in a trance of your thoughts, you feel the warm water over your hands' sudden absence. You don't need to turn your head to identify the reason. You can already hear his little huffs behind his mask and his big meaty hands pawing at your hips.

“I missed you, Tommy.” You turn and raise your arms to place your hands on his broad chest. His fingers fidget with the red trim of your sundress, one of his favorites. “You like my dress honey? I like this one too, I wear it to ensure you stay grateful for this pretty little wife you got.” You giggle and cover his hands with your own, but only manage to shade a finger or two. 

“I made you pie again Tommy, peach crumble! It's right on the counter. Lemme cut you a slice.” You smile warmly before turning to walk to the countertop to your right, but you don't manage. Tommys' hands are glued to your hips, keeping you grounded like a statue on the floor. “You don't want pie, baby?” You ask, sweetly of course. You knew Tommy wasn’t focused on your pie right now, you knew from the second you heard his feet shuffling outside that he had some steam he needed to release, and you’d be damned before you said you didn't want him to take it out on you.

You look up at his lust-filled eyes and reach to untie his sweaty mask. You didn't like that he always felt he had to cover himself up, but you understood it brought more comfort to his everyday life. As the mask fell, you could hear his shaky breaths practically calling for you. You got up on your tiptoes and pursed your lips, so he reciprocated, bending his head downward and capturing you in a warm, desperate kiss.

His hands on your hips lifted your body off of the ground, unconsciously, making your face line up with his. You wrap your legs around his waist, not making it all the way, but you were stable as his hands moved down to cup your ass. You whimper into his mouth, grinding your little hips against his big tummy, and running your fingers through his messy hair.

He lets out a single huff before turning on his heels and taking you to the bedroom. After storming through the doorway, he tosses your body onto your’ neatly made bed and begins to undress. You take his cue and do the same, unzipping your flowy dress and slipping off your white panties. Leaning back in your bed, you take in Tommys' body, how the veins in his hands bulge as he unbuttons his shirt, and how tight his pants look on his thick thighs.

Once he's fully bare, he slowly stalks around the bed, looking you up and down like a piece of meat he’s longing to devour. Suddenly, he yanks you down by the ankles, making you lay flat on the bed. He pushes himself to his knees at the end of the bed, settled between your now parted legs. He shuffles forward a bit, then pulls you by the knees until your legs wrap around his hips. 

He bends forward, towering over your frame. He takes your legs and pulls your feet over each one of his shoulders. Your thighs are pressed to your stomach as he settles an arm on both sides of your head. His hair falls around your face, and you reach up to kiss his pretty pink lips. You feel his girth slipping over your slit, and you reach your hand down to press his throbbing cock to your little bud. He groans at the touch of your hand and you begin to rock your hips back and forth, covering his length with your slick.

Not long after, he begins to rock his hips against yours in tandem. His forehead touches yours and you can feel his warm breaths covering your face. On one of his slower thrusts, the tip of his cock caught on the rim of your hole, making you take a sharp breath in. Tommy looks at you to make sure you’re okay, then slowly slides his fat member into you without warning.

“Tommy! Jesus, baby slow down.” You whimper out. The intrusion makes your lips quiver and hands grip the sheets, so he takes your arms in one of his hands and moves them to wrap around his neck, immediately latching onto his hair. As he settles his hefty body on top of yours, his tummy pressing down tightly on yours, he pushes even further forward, trying to get as deep as possible.

Your moans turn into choked-out groans as he slowly pounds into you. Your toes curling and heels digging into his damp back. He lets out deep groans and uses his hand to wipe hair from your face. He cups your cheek and kisses you, a distraction from the ache of your stretched hole, struggling to accept his large cock. 

His thrusts pick up in pace, and he buries his face into your neck. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and he maneuvers your body to slam down on his cock in time with his thrusts. In a state of complete cock-drunk bliss, you struggle to let out a whine as you feel your peak approaching. Rolling your eyes back, you grip his hair between your fingers and give it a little tug, before feeling the warmth of your orgasm explode through your body in ripples of pleasure.

Your back arches and your legs shake, the feeling of your pussy clenching over his length makes him whimper, and his thrusts become fast and shallow. You whine at the feeling of him abusing your overstimulated warmth, and Tommy leans down to bury his face in your breasts and grips your hips almost bruisingly in his hands, quickly reaching his orgasm himself. 

He wraps his arms around your back and pulls you as close to him as possible before letting out one more deep thrust and filling you to the brim with his seed. He groans and flips over on his back, taking you with him. You lay over his body, feeling his cock softening inside you as his spend drips out. You both catch your breath and relax, his hands rubbing gently over your back. 

You close your eyes and let the cool air of night take you both to sleep.

feel free to leave requests! (get FILTHY.) <3