#but I KINDA GOT CARRIED AWAY

[smokeys-house]

Okiedokey I think part 2 of TCKD is just about done. Might be a few more edits but I think that's about it

[peanuttoffee]

i sorta kinda waited for a reason to post this, and today seems to be perfectly reasonable :D

[i-eat-deodorant]

He wants so viciously to tell them he hates them. Whatever they're doing to him-- this pounding in his ribcage, this roiling pit tearing itself open in his stomach with an intensity so uncomfortably close to shame-- it has to be hate. Divine hate. Righteous, fixated hate. Overwhelming, terrifying, yearning hate.

He leans in.

fanart for that one scene in chapter 6 of Feel No Evil by @payasita . i'm completely obsessed with how it's written and have read it over like 10+ times.

[kaiminluu]

(semi) realism snow ball miwi for the heart and soul

[danvillecheese]

floor after floor now we know what's in store 'nother floor then a floor then a floor

[colorless-vector]

He doesn't have any personal things on his wall or bed after his brothers left. These things were personal and only for The Bad Batch to see. For the Empire he has no petsonality. Almost all the people around him were strangers. Crosshair was alone in a place full of people. The only ones who understood him had left him. He wasn't able to show his feelings to the people who didn't see him like his brothers did.

He was so lonely and angy😭😭😭

He was like a teenager with adolescent maximalism

And later in prison he had nothing at all and he didn't want to have anything. He understood how mislead he was and decided that he should accept his imprisonment. He thought he didn't deserve good things anymore and lost hope in everything (until the little sunshine came to save him from prison and himself in his self-loathing). His family abandoned him (in his point of view), the Empire betrayed him. He only sent one message only to warn the batch to keep Omega away from the Empire. After doing that he almost gave up on himself

He must have felt so broken

[vmp3ater]

Furina is love- Furina is lifeee

what if…after the fontain quest- since furina’s “transformed” into a human and isn’t a puppet/doll anymore, reader fulfills their dream to fuck and fill her SILLYYYY 😋😋

go wild bae- just want sum more sub furina crumbs 🥴🙏🙏🙏

furina x gn! reader

warnings. dom! reader, sub! furina, fingering, dumbification, 4.2 aq spoilers, reader is implied to have a cock/strap. written by a minor.

notes. holy shit anon the ideas i got for that prompt…

if you said that you never dreamt about the former hydro archon whining and squirming under you, then you’d be lying. but she, as your partner, doesn’t mind the things you’re doing to her. she enjoys it.

you have furina lying on her back, thighs trembling like a leaf as you move your index and middle fingers in and out of her cunt. you feel your cheeks heat up when you feel her cunt flutter around you, squirming and arching her back off of the mattress as her short white hair sprawls all over the pillow. she truly deserved this—especially after what happened back in court.

“such a pretty girl you are, hm?” you whispered down to her, running your free hand along her waist as she grinds back down onto you. furina only lets whimpers dribble out of her slightly parted lips at your words, and you didn’t make things any better when your fingers sped up inside her, grazing her sweet spot and making her moans louder

“aww, did i fuck you dumb already?” you mused, but furina didn’t answer you. if the way she was grinding down against your hand and moaning out your name with every drag of your fingers, it was that you had done so. a smirk paints across your face as your dirty words fill her ears. “don’t get too tired yet, i’ve got something better to fuck you with.”

furina winces out at your words in pure excitement, and it’ll only make her adrenaline rush more, she squirms and chants out your name like a prayer as her orgasm approaches her, and you let your thumb graze her clit to stimulate her further, and it only made her sounds shift in pitch.

when she cums, her thighs tremble and she arches off of the bed as she releases all over you. you can't help that smirk that paints across your face at her current state; her knuckles turning white when she grips at the pillow, her head turned to the side as she trembles under you… it was all a sight to behold.

when you ride her out of her orgasm, her pretty, raspy pants are all you can hear, and you smirk above her. your low, teasing voice fills her ears as she gets snapped back into reality, curious about what you’ll do to her next.

“don’t get tired yet, princess. we have the whole night to ourselves.”

[togament]

tiny togame waving at u

[automatonknight]

id: a digital drawing of red pyro and miss pauling from team fortress 2. they're both fully visible. pyro is more to the left, they look as if they're taking a step forward. one of their hands is on the handle of their thermal thruster, which is a sort of jet pack, while the other is on pauling's shoulder. miss pauling herself is sat sideways in pyro's lap, holding onto them as well. they're looking at eachother and smiling. the background shows a blue sky with a few heart-shaped clouds floating around. end id

[teeo-sherry]

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it Markus”

[misc-obeyme]

What kind of punishments would Lucifer give to Mc if they did a mistake without meaning it? NSFW of course!!

NSFW MDNI

Hrm, well, I dunno. I think if MC messed up on accident, Lucifer would probably be pretty lenient about it. I don't think he'd do much of anything, to be honest with you. I've always been of the opinion that Lucifer is only strict because he wants his brothers to be safe. And that obviously extends to MC.

That being said, it seems to me that you may be implying a different sort of dynamic exists between MC and Lucifer - one that they've discussed previously. So that an accidental mistake turns out to be something that's used as an excuse to indulge in "punishments" wink wink lol.

And if we're talking about sexy times, well, I have opinions on that, too. But I'm gonna put it below this read more 'cause we're getting a bit explicit.

I personally have always headcanoned Lucifer as a switch. I think he can absolutely take on that dom role if his partner wants him to, but I think he also likes to sub for someone he fully trusts.

However, if he's the one doling out punishments, then he's obviously the dom in this situation.

And if that's the case, I think Lucifer is a pleasure dom.

This demon is so madly in love with MC, all he wants is to make them orgasm again and again. And again. And then again.

I think the kind of punishment you're likely to get with Lucifer is a lot of edging. He's gonna bring you right to the brink and then deny you that final release until he thinks you've had enough.

I kinda think he'd probably tie you up, too. I can just imagine Lucifer putting you into some elaborate shibari - dark red ropes or maybe black because he likes to see you in his colors.

But that's only if he has the time to be that thorough. If we're talking a quick and dirty punishment, you know he'll make use of his tie instead. Depending on his mood, he'll wrap it around your wrists or tie it over your eyes or in your mouth.

I think he'd go for the blindfold most often. He wants to hear you whine for release. And he likes to keep you guessing. You get to just sit there, not knowing fully what he's doing because you can't see and he's too quiet to let you hear him.

By the time he's done, you're screaming his name and he's never heard anything quite so pleasant as that.

Neither of you are silly enough to think that this is going to actually deter you from making a "mistake" again. In fact, it's more likely to encourage your bad behavior. But Lucifer doesn't mind. Not if it gives him an excuse to make you come over and over again.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

YUMI ( ノД`)…

MY BRAIN HAS STOPPED FUNCTIONING. THIS IS GOING TO BE MY 13TH REASON.

GIRLIE I SAW THIS YESTERDAY AND I FREAKED OUT FOR A HOT SECOND BC HELLO????? THAT'S MINGI????? (the resemblance is uncanny)

but like... mingi's actually the type to do that so 🤷‍♀️ and i'm having a few thoughts- (drabble ahead bc if this has to be your 13th reason let me make it a good one 🤪)

imagine you and mingi were planning to go to this party but he had some work to wrap up so you were going to meet up there instead of going together. now, you brought this red dress a few days ago and when you tried it on, mingi couldn't help but scan every inch of your body ever so slowly and then he went, "nuh uh. you're not wearing that to the party. this dress is for my eyes only."

however, you also know mingi doesn't always mean what he says. and mingi loves the little game of "i told you not to" "i did it anyway" that you both often play. so when he finds you at the party wearing that very dress hugging your curves perfectly and making your skin glow?? and with those mesh/net sleeves? the glare he sent you from the other end of the room? the smirk that creeped up on his lips as he shook his head in amusement?

you ignored the butterflies- no, the zoo in your stomach and got distracted by a group of friends who greeted you and complimented your dress. just as you were about to leave, you felt a strong familiar grip on your wrist and you knew you couldn't escape this, so you followed your boyfriend upstairs until you found a secluded corner, and-

suddenly, you were caged between mingi's arms, your hips resting against the railing and your breath catching in your throat as mingi looked down at you.

"i thought we talked about this," his deep voice rumbled as if inside your head. "as pretty as you look, this dress was supposed to be for my eyes only."

"i had nothing else to wear," you pouted and mingi scoffed, sliding his glasses up his nose with one finger, uncaging you and letting his eyes roam around your figure. "are you mad at me?"

he caught the teasing in that tone. he caught the intent laced behind those words. so he licked his lips, bringing his hand to your hips and trailing it ever so slowly up, up and up until they wrapped wround your throat like the necklace they were meant to be. and then he slid his thumb below your chin, tilting your head up as he squeezed the sides of your neck-

just like you liked. a breathy moan escaped your mouth and you felt warmth course through your body. mingi knew exactly the effect he had on you and he caressed your neck, bringing his lips to your jaw and planting a lingering kiss.

"when we get home," he whispered in your ears, voice raspy and almost shaking- you knew the effect you had on him very well too, "i'm going to fuck you in this dress so hard that you forget what your name is." he nibbled your earlobe and this time, you moaned because of his words alone. "and then i'm going to take it off and do it all over again."

[mumblesplash]

pov you’re the wither and you have about 30 seconds to live

(the marks under his eye just say ‘RIP’ in sga/enchantment table language if anyone was curious)

[puppyeared]

is this your card? ♦️♣️♥️♠️ it isnt but you dont wanna hurt his feelings

[redjademilktea]

Okay one of the few times that whole "PhD student in history" thing is going to be relevant to anything I post here but last night's C3 episode has me feeling some sort of wayyyyy.

Specifically the part where they found those incredibly ancient elven ruins within the cave they were exploring. After barely escaping near-death, and Laudna fresh from deliberately channeling the darkness within her, they stumble across these ruins. Deep within a dark cave where they sought refuge from the harsh storms that plague the unforgiving Ruidian surface. Geodes full of sharp and jagged crystal jut out from the walls of cold, ancient rock. A river coming from some unknown source pouring into a rushing waterfall, leading away further into the depths. Matt did a phenomenal job painting the scene.

There, in those ruins - in that tomb, that crypt - they run across a hauntingly serene sight. Bones from the presumable inhabitants are crushed into the walls, unmoving. Frozen. Sharing the same space in a wonderful, striking, tragic, serendipitous juxtaposition is an enchanted garden. There, in the derelict remains of this once-vibrant space, the vestiges of that past life hold strong. A small bastion of life and healing amidst the monument of death and destruction.

It's within this space of dizzying contrast - air thick with the practically tangible weight of past tragedies - that Laudna finds a doll. A simple doll, devoid of features beyond the bare minimum that helps identify it. A toy, a companion? A relic of some child from so long ago. Laudna likes dolls. She decides - after asking permission - to keep it.

Now within her possession is a ghost. Not a literal ghost, mind you, considering those are in fact a very literal thing in the world Laudna lives in, but a ghost all the same. Through that doll, a child from untold centuries before is reaching, grasping at Laudna. This child, whose entire life, history, and experienced are lost to time - trapped in the past - has managed to pierce that temporal barrier and make themselves known to her.

In addition to this framing of a ghost, the doll can represent another type of haunting. That of a reencounter. Through this doll, this mundane object that often is filed away under the folder of insignificance, Laudna is confronted with the complicated web of violence, trauma, and grief that wraps around both her and the space around her. Laudna loves children. She has a childlike innocence that constantly bubbles at the surface. Yet beneath that is 30 years of unfathomable pain and loneliness.

Laudna, much like the ruins, is at times also frozen. Both physically in her unaging visage and mentally in the way she seems to revert in response to intense trauma.

So, within the confines of this long-forgotten space, the woman who just hours before channelled 30 years of darkness, anger, and hurt into a spell that served to strengthen her tormentor, picked up a doll. A doll that in so many ways symbolizes the innocence and joy that Laudna embodies, surrounded by tragedy.

It was such a beautifully haunting scene.

**If folks are interested, I am referencing the wonderful works of Avery Gordon in her book Ghostly Matters (1997) and Crystal Baik in her book Reencounters: On the Korean War and Diasporic Memory Critique (2019)**

[frootietoots]

the feminine urge to curl up inside a warm, breathing belly as a way to escape from the horrors of the real world

nothing would make me feel more secure than being cradled in the hands of someone so unfathomably giant and so, so, so kind. i need that right now. i need to be cared for. the thought of tender fingers curling around me as their maw opens up, a large, soft tongue curling around me slowly, reminding me of what i'm getting myself into. they'd be taking their time so as not to alarm me. with every twitch and jolt of my tiny body they would hesitate, afraid to startle me. as they hold their mouth open, warm breaths akin to that of a sugary-scented summer's breeze would wash over me in a steady, rhythmic pace. i would imagine the movement of their lungs as they breathe, envisioning each organic swell and contraction. they'd take pleasure in knowing what all i'd be thinking, aware after a certain point that my sheepish behavior is not fear, but rather,, something more light-hearted.

and then, i'd be pulled in. the light from the outside world would fade, replaced by a pitch-blackness unlike anything else. it's a comforting, breathing darkness that swallows me whole. this darkness is alive, and it tells me to simply relax. there is no need to strain my eyes with the light in an obnoxious, heartless world. darkness inside of them is where i find peace. besides, i know i'm not alone. if i was alone, the ground would not be shifting and squirming. there would be a soft *squelch* as the saliva trapped underneath their tongue is shifted about, eliciting a chuckle from me. i'd almost be able to feel the way they'd smile around me, knowing at the very least that they got me to laugh if nothing else. my laugh would trail off as my hands brush against their teeth, sharpened at the tips and yet completely harmless to me. to the lasagna i fixed from earlier, no, but i'm alive. i'm a person. they're free to tear into that lasagna as much as they'd like, matter of fact! i worked hard on it. me, however? i'm delicate to them. they know they must be gentle with me. they'd never use their teeth to hurt me. though, i do recognize that they'd like me to pay attention to those teeth of theirs. their tongue, soft and folded underneath me, would move to poke at the divot in one of their molars, bringing my attention to it in the process. i'd smooth my trusting hand over their molar and thumb at every individual detail. it's fascinating, really. i think a big reason why vore intrigues me so much to begin with is because it's all so terribly captivating. everything is alive, and everything alive surrounds me. it's comforting.

i really think we need to appreciate just how nice mouths are, y'know? i think that's an underrated part in vore. there's so much material, and yet it goes untouched for the most part, but i digress

we'd need to move on eventually. their maw would start to fill up with drool, and since i would have been anticipating the upcoming part, i'd already be comfortable and prepared for their tongue to lift, lift, lift, and send me sliding down their throat into a hot, pulsing abyss. every inch of my body would be coated in a thick blanket of slobber by this point, and i imagine that'd definitely make the journey down their esophagus much, much easier. i think most people fail to realize just how challenging it'd be to swallow someone whole without chewing, regardless of their size. or maybe we choose to overlook it bc vore can't technically exist at all irl anyway idk. i like to ramble lol

at some point, the tight, throbbing walls of their gullet would transition into a different space. i'd slip inside, recognizing my ability to move around and get comfortable unlike the other organ i was squeezed into after their swallow. as i'd lean my head back against the fleshy abdominal wall behind me, i'd feel a lack of resistance comparable to a beanbag chair and how it feels to lay in one. the walls would adjust to this new weight, moving to surround me. i would be cradled and held. adored instinctively. their stomach doesn't obviously have cognitive thought, but somewhere within the deep recesses of their mind, their brain perceives me as being more than just sustenance. i am loved here. this is my safe space, and nobody else would be able to agree. that is how i want this to be. if i could write my name somewhere in here, i would. that wouldn't last very long, though.

not a word would be exchanged between the two of us, and yet our silence holds more weight than anything we could say. my throat would feel dry, and i'd swallow a few times before raising my hand to pat at the lining of their precious gut. they'd laugh outwardly, and i'd know that if i could purr, i would be doing it. the tension in my muscles would dissolve into warmth, spreading throughout my small body. i am fragile and exposed, but that is how i like it. it's nice to feel small while being small.

for them, i'm unsure how they'd feel. i like to think that, while unnatural, this process would be enjoyable for them. the stinging ache behind their collarbone would be evidence of me, a reminder of the tiny body they carried into a comforting space. their soft fingers would rub at their neck, gracing over the spot near their adam's apple where i once was. they'd swallow again, feeling the bob of their throat. their hand would trail down to their stomach, pausing right above the taut flesh above their belly. with every rise and fall of my chest they'd feel movement, and they'd attempt to mimic it. i think they'd take in every foreign sensation one at a time, and i'd appreciate that. we're both still new to this, after all.

as they'd adjust themselves to get comfortable in bed, my environment would slowly move with me. i'd wait until i could no longer feel their movement, and then i'd curl up on my side in a small pool of gastric juices and drool. though very muffled, i'd hear the smacking of their lips and their deep, pleased hums as they savor what would be left of my recognizable taste clinging to the surfaces of their mouth. i might even hear them licking their fingers. i'd roll my eyes and bury my face into my arms, only to lift my head upon realizing that my arms are coated in slime. silly me. how could i forget? even with the constant drum of a strong heartbeat and the churning from below of a meal i prepared hours ago for them sounding all around me?

"you're a dork," i'd call out to them, my voice audibly cracking after so long of having nothing to say. the rumbling laughter that would surround me and the way their walls would squeeze around me briefly would remind me of just how small and frail i truly am within them.

"says the one who asked to be eaten earlier," they'd tease, a hint of playfulness evident in their tone. i'd scoff.

"yeah, well, i know you enjoy it. you'd be a liar to say you don't like the aftertaste i left in your mouth earlier," i would reply. they'd pause, and then i'd hear a hum without reply. being the way i am, i'd take that as surrender. not that it mattered. they'd be in a more lovey-dovey mood anyway.

the way they'd yawn would send chills speeding up my spine despite the hot, stale air within the depths of their insides. i'd reciprocate the yawn and then settle in contentedly once and for all within them, finding peace in the silence that would arise again. sometimes i like the silence between us more anyway. it's nice to enjoy your presence, especially when it's all that i can enjoy, really. i'm trapped within you. there's nothing else to focus on. everything is you. everything i look at, smell, hear, breathe in... it's you. it's all you.

thanks for that. i like being here. maybe we can do this again sometime?