#of course you can want something so much its bad for you

[yurinaa-world]

Can we get another part of body swap? This time with Dan Heng, Boothill, Aventurine and Jiaoqiu

2#—"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎?!"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Dan Heng, Boothill, Aventurine & Jiaoqiu x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Body Swap?!

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫Part one: 💫"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎?!" (with Sampo, Jing Yuan, Ratio & Gepard)

💫𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔 "𝐼𝓂𝒷𝒾𝒷𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝐿𝓊𝓃𝒶𝑒"

“Why are getting so close?!”

If anyone saw the two of you like this, you would think Dan Heng was a gentleman on the outside (of course he always is) and on the inside, he’s so handsy, it looked like was about to eat you alive—your chest against his own

Dan Heng’s voice—your voice—comes out in a startled yelp, eyes widening as you lean in, crowding into his space. If anyone saw the two of you like this, they’d think Dan Heng was the type to pin people against the wall—all tall. But in reality, you are the one doing it, under the idea that your idea of trying to “help”

“Come on, that’s how they do it in shows and books, they switch back after a kiss,” Whatever you rambling on about makes him question if you're even taking this seriously!? 

“One tiny kiss? It might do something.” 

How can you be so cheeky? You make his heart race even in your body, just the way you talk makes you very different from him. 

“You’re insane,” he mutters, his voice—your voice—tinged with disbelief.

But even as he says it, his eyes linger on you, watching as you get even closer, ignoring all the space between you. His breath comes a little quicker, the proximity messing with his focus. Why does it feel so… different with you in his body? Why is it that the moment your eyes meet, his heart starts to race, like a traitor?

“I’m serious,” you press, your voice playful, but there’s something daring in it, too. “You never know. One kiss might just do the trick.”

You lean in, your lips brushing against his for just a second. The moment it happens, everything goes still. He pulls back, eyes wide, his breath shaky.

“That didn’t do anything."

💫𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓁𝓁 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝒶𝓁𝒶𝓍𝓎 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈"

He loves your body so much, so warm and fuzzy, like the feeling of a blanket coming out from a dryer and wrapping yourself in its warmth. He absolutely loved the feeling. 

(You weren’t so bad off as well, even though you were wearing clothes that he would never wear in his own body, finding his original outfit too much for you.)

He wants to feel you in your body, wrapping his—your—arms around your waist, the cold metallic making him shiver. Was his body really that cold? Well, if he keeps his body against yours long enough, the body heat transfers to the metal.

He hums in satisfaction, pressing himself—yourself—closer, soaking in every bit of warmth that seeps into his usually frigid body. The contrast is startling, the way the heat lingers against the metal.

“…so warm," he murmurs, voice hushed, like he's afraid acknowledging it too much will make it disappear—even though the only warmth is coming from his own body onto the metal if yours. His fingers trail absentmindedly over your arms, your waist, feeling the way your body moves with each breath. 

 He never realized just how much sensation his body lacked until now. The coldness he had grown so used to, his face being the only thing he could actually (sometimes) feel.

"...So this is what it’s like," he breathes, barely audible. A strange, wistful longing settles in his voice, something he doesn’t fully understand himself. 

He misses being human.

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇����𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

Why are we here?! Seriously! What are you thinking?!” 

He’s always the one bringing you to places like this, but now that you’ve switched bodies, it’s hard to ignore the looks you’re getting. You face being the one thats winning, the one on a hot streak, while you just sit there, looking nervous and out of place. 

“You’re making it way too obvious, enjoy yourself, it’s fun robbing all these fools blind.” Aventurine smiled gleefully while raking around a basket of chips and throwing them on the table. 

“Really? I rather just sit and have my fun over here.” you see him looking to the side—probably another game catching his interest, which inevitably leads him to join in to have his share of fun. Which was not what got him so focused on, you before grinning at you—it was a smile of pure mischief on his lips—you got a front-row seat of that look while immediately jumped on top of your lap.

You freeze, the weight of his sudden move pressing down on you. His grin widens as he settles, his hands resting on your shoulders, fingers casually brushing your neck.

“What are you doing!?”

“Those girls were staring at you, I couldn’t help but get jealous.”

Ugh! Why does he have to act this in your body, like some needy lover who wants attention?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter under your breath, trying to push him off, but it’s like he’s made himself comfortable, leaning into you with that damn mischievous smile. “They like your face, not me.”

“Oh, they like this face, alright,” he says with a teasing chuckle, poking at your chest, “but they can’t have you, since we’re together.”

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

What an unusual expression, it doesn’t suit his face at all. The same goes for him in your body. From the outside, it looks funny—it’s like you two have changed places, which isn’t exactly wrong.

But right now, no one would tell it feels a bit weird! The orange colour tail doesn’t stop moving for a second, it makes you feel uncomfortable, and it always moves around, which somehow just leaves you restless the orange ears on the top of your head are like losing a tooth as a child—you can’t help but take notice and touch the ears that weight on your years.

Jiaoqiu on the other hand seems to fairing far better than you—honestly, without his tail and ears you thought he be worse off, but no, he seems to be enjoying himself in your body, mostly relishing in it.

You, on the other hand, have been groaning and complaining, while holding down the orange tail to stop it from moving, it made you extremely restless. He had soothed you somehow—you are in his body after, watching you in pain isn’t what he wants.

Which is how you wound up here, laying in your lap is his body—it’s weird yet desperation is how you got here—his hand lands on the top of your head, gently patting and running his hands through the long orange hair.

“You’re tense,” Jiaoqiu mutters, his tone somewhere between amused and exasperated.

“I wonder why,” you grumble, but the bite in your voice is weaker now. The twitching of your ears has lessened, and your tail no longer flicks about wildly like it has a mind of its own. You can still feel it, still notice every little shift and movement, but the overwhelming restlessness from before has dulled.

Jiaoqiu huffs a small laugh, continuing his slow, rhythmic petting. “See? Not so bad when you stop fighting it.”

It's stupid how you feel your face burn up a little, it’s so stupid and slightly embarrassing.

So stupid, that tail starts flailing around.

Which makes Jiaoqiu snicker, clearly noticing the way your tail betrays you. "Ah, there it is again," he teases, his fingers lazily brushing over your scalp.

"You sure you’re not enjoying this a little too much? I thought you were calming down, instead, I’ve got you all railed up."

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[venomhoundfanworks]

Hazbin Hotel - First "I Love You"s

Happy Valentines Day, all~ I wanted to make a special post for today. So here are short stories about the first time you exchanged I love you with Lucifer, Vox, and Alastor

CASUAL REMINDER: What was supposed to be the Angel Dust part in this post got too long because I have no self control. Its now its own story >>over yonder<<

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; allusions to heartbreak, cheating, abuse, just lots of past bad stuff; but its all in the past, this content is fluff and feels; Lucifer has a panic attack in his part cause he needs therapy Cavity content and brainrot below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Lucifer ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

Lucifer knew the words. Of course he did. After all, he was a married man. Obviously. But… They seemed to carry so much more weight now then they ever did before. Ever since Lilith left. Now they felt much more like a burden then something to celebrate. Perhaps he was idealistic, if not naïve before. But just the thought of love had made him giddy. It always held the promise of endless laughter, dancing under stars, and countless ever afters.

But now? Now, thinking of love scared him. It made his heart clench and the cold weight of dread harden in his chest. Lucifer’s mind would always go to that horrible moment when he realized Lilith was gone. That she wasn't coming back. Now, love just seemed like a promise of pain. A promise to leave in the end.

However, if there is one thing Lucifer can reliably do, its ignore a problem. Its his special talent to be able to simply not register any smoke or embers until its an all-engulfing, burning blaze.

With how close the two of you were getting, Lucifer should have seen the signs. He should have noticed the warmth that stained his face, the excitement that burned in his stomach to the point of making him sick, as well as the pure sense of comfort and affection that welled up in his chest. He should have done alot of things. But instead, every thought, every notion Lucifer got that there is more, that there is something beautiful blossoming between you two is thrown to the wayside. Buried deep, to be dealt with later.

Until it can’t be dealt with later. Until it bursts out in a way only Lucifer can manage to do; on complete accident.

Neither of you remember how the conversation started, or honestly, the majority of what was said. You were folding what felt like endless paper crafts for Charlie. All while Lucifer rambled to you about his latest duck related project. He fiddled and spun one of said ducks in his hands, using it as a fidget toy while he spoke. Lucifer did… attempt to help you when he found you. But you correctly assessed that he would be much more of a detriment then an asset with his mind so focused elsewhere. So here you two were; him passionately talking your ear off while you did the delicate work he couldn’t.

When it happened, it was sudden. Lucifer had just bounced up to leave when the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could catch them; “That sounds great! I love you, Duckie~”

Just like that, it was like a live bomb had been dropped between you two. Time itself seemed to stop and both of you remained completely still. Lucifer’s heart pounded; blood rushing so fast it was deafening. His hands trembled. He could already feel overwhelmed tears pricking at his eyes and fogging up his vision. He could feel his lungs burning for air while he fought to keep his breathing steady. He wanted to run. He wanted to hide in his room and cry. He wanted to turn to you and try and explain and beg you not to leave him…

But instead Lucifer just stood there. Frozen. Paralyzed in fear that he had just broken whatever you two had going. That he had ruined his only chance at a fresh start like he ruins everything else-

“Do you mean that?”

Your gentle words broke through Lucifer’s rapid spiral and put a harsh stop to any further thoughts in his head. He simply blinked dumbly a few times. A subconscious attempt to get rid of the excess wetness in his eyes. “W-w-what?”

“Do you…” Lucifer could hear the trembling in your soft voice. The hesitance in your breathe as you held it for a moment to try and gather yourself before finishing, “…really love me?”

At that, Lucifer finally found it in himself to turn around and look at you. In your eyes he saw the exact same fear that he had. Fear of the future. Fear of pain. Fear of the inevitable.

For the first time in forever, Lucifer felt understood. For the first time, Lucifer felt that something for him might turn out okay after all.

“Yes. I love you so much.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Vox ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

Vox had certainly thought about the words. He had said them to you in his head countless times. But he had yet to work up the courage to actually say them to you outloud. Everytime Vox was sure it was going to happen, they would always end up catching in his throat. Then his thoughts would start racing, his fans suddenly whirring trying to keep him from overheating, and the words would end up dying before he could get his shit together.

What if he was moving too fast? The last thing he wanted to do was jump the gun. Especially when it came to you. What if he says it too soon, coming off desperate and scaring you off? Or worse, what if he got the timing wrong? What if those words, those ever important words, came out at the worst possible moment? Vox was well aware that his own lightness and euphoria could be blinding him to your mental state. What if he was reading the entire situation wrong?

What if… you just didn’t feel the same?

That was the notion that ended it. Ended any attempt or thoughts Vox possibly had of confessing. Vox was pretty sure he couldn't handle another heartbreak. Another rejection. So he kept the words to himself and settled for whatever it was you had now. Your current “relationship” was better then the possible alternative. So he would settle. Vox told himself he was okay with whatever scraps he got like he always did.

You had gracelessly fallen asleep on Vox one evening; the movie marathon he had coaxed you into losing the battle with your sleep deprived self. When Vox noticed your body relax against him as you fell asleep, he couldn't help but chuckle lovingly. It was cute and… sweet that you trusted him like this. Enough to fall asleep on him like something out of a stupid teen romance.

Vox hummed to himself and playfully rolled his eyes, shifting around so you could sleep more comfortably on his chest. He held you close, his claws gently petting you and his heart beating a little too loudly in his own head for his liking. Despite how much he complained, in whatever poor attempts he did to keep up his bravado, Vox would be lying if he said he didn’t love moments like this. Moments where you two were just something from a stupid romance.

Vox continued his humming, but now with more purpose. It was as if he was trying to sooth you. To lull you into a deeper sleep. He gently pressed his screen against the top of your head in a makeshift kiss. The words escaped his mouth before he could consciously register them; a gentle “I love you.” It just felt… right in that moment. For once, he wasn't panicking internally or overheating with dread at your possible response. Everything was calm. Quiet. Besides, it wasn't like you were even awake to hear him anyway…

“…I love you too.”

Vox immediately went silent and every muscle in his body tensed. He wasn't fully sure he heard you right at first. That is, if he didn't outright hallucinate it. Your words were groggy, partially slurred; clearly having responded to him in your sleep.

But did that fact really matter? You had said it to him. You said the words back. So you must have loved him on some level, right? Vox could feel himself trembling as his grip on you tightened protectively, as if you were at threat of being taken away from him in that very moment. As if you might just slip away through his fingers like a gust of wind. Vox pulls your sleeping form ever closer, curling around you, desperate to be as close as he can possibly be.

He swears from that moment on, that he is never going to let you go.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

Alastor had… honestly never really thought about those words. Or even what best describes his own feelings for you for that matter. He simply acknowledged that, yes, he did feel some sort of… “affection” towards you. So “affection” was what he called it. It didn’t matter what it actually was. You seemed to return it. You let him express his feelings how he wished. Things between you two seemed to be going swell. So… was there really a need to name it?

Alastor certainly didn't think so. Perhaps it was just in his roots to not give something like that a name. A name acknowledges it. Gives it shape. Gives it power. A name makes something tangible. Turns the ethereal into something to be wielded. Either for, or against you. But that was the risk you accepted when you played with fire. That its flame could scorch you and leave you just as charred as those you hoped to use it against.

It was early. Dreadfully early. But Alastor was wide awake and in the Hotel kitchen preparing the residential breakfast. Already singing and humming to himself like it wasn't too early for even the birds. Your footsteps were weighted with sleep as you meandered your way towards the kitchen. Alastor’s only acknowledgment of you was the flick of his ears when you stomped particularly loud.

You lethargically pulled out one of the dining chairs, unintentionally dragging one of its legs against the floor and making a horrid squeal. Most people would have been terrified at the sight of the radio demon visibly recoiling at the sound; his ears flattening back as he shot you a look over his shoulder. But you were not most people.

Instead, you settled yourself. Your head leaning sleepily against your arms on the table while the radio demon simply stared, motionless at you.

“Dear.” Alastor only spoke when you started staring back. Unabashedly meeting his unwavering eyes with your own. His voice crackled with static. “You-are aware of how early it is, aren't you?”

You gave an affirming hum. “Are you?”

Alastor visibly retracted himself, slowly turning back to his work despite his ears remaining pinned back. He… didn’t actually have a response for that. You both knew he had no business being here at this hour. Especially since his only reason for being the Hotel’s chef at all was some misplaced sense of culinary pride.

So Alastor resigned himself and silently continued. Slowly relaxing once again into his normal rhythm as you watched from the table. Your eyes tracing his every movement like he was a show in and of himself. Looking at him like he was a work of art.

“Al?”

Alastor simply made an acknowledging sound at your inquiry. Letting you know that he had heard you, but most of his attention was still on preparing the Hotel’s breakfast.

“I love you.”

It wasn't a groundbreaking declaration. Something yelled in a moment of despair and desperation as if the earth itself was being ripped out from under you. The ground certainly wasn't breaking apart at your words now. No. This was just a simple acknowledgment. A voicing of fact.

Perhaps that reverence was what gave Alastor pause. Made him actually consider the notion.

Love. Was that what this was? Was that this tightness, this need he had deep in his chest? Was that the name of this longing, this warmth he felt whenever you were too wonderfully close or pulled away too far? Was this… fondness, this comfort he had in moments like these… what love was?

“Alastor?”

He didnt notice he had slowly stopped what he was doing. So lost in thought that he had ceased all motion. Alastor looked back at you and affectionately chuckled when he saw the concerned look in your eyes. He found himself with a genuine smile for once. Not the usual grin that he plastered on, the one that could easily find itself more on the side of a snarl then a grin. But a real smile that reached his eyes.

“I’m fine, Love. Just thinking is all.”

If this was what love was, then he could certainly learn to live with it.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

AN: Happy Valentines day everyone! I hope ya'll find real love and happiness while I'm over here gargling my fictional men (˵˘ ³˘˵) (Also tag which type of love/way of saying 'I love you' you are; I'm Luci ◉〰◉)

LINKS AND FURTHER READING ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

My Masterlist for my Other Work: >>HERE<<

The Angel Dust Section: >>HERE<<

AO3 Archive Link: >>HERE<<

Ngl, Vox's section was inspired by the strange like... silent agreement that alot of people have that Vox definitely tells you he loves you while your sleeping. Ive noticed a bunch of people have him do that in their fics and its just funny to me that so many people have come to the same conclusion.

One such fic is this adorable little drabble over >>HERE<< by @voxisdaddy

There is a super cute post about trying (and failing) to cook for Alastor and Lucifer and them having to step in to help you by @alastor-x-reader-stories over >>HERE<<

ALSO HAVE THIS STUUUPIDDD-- fic that I actually almost had a panic attack over because I couldn't find it and I thought it got deleted-ANYWAY. Its by @girlboypersonthingy and its a wonderful fic about Lucifer desperately pining over the reader and I reread it ALOT its over >>HERE<<

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello gatorbite, I really liked your imagines with Mark Grayson, could you do an imagine of Mark with a Male Reader who is a vampire?

Mark Grayson x vampire king male reader

Headcanons

Cooking my own headcanons for vampires, how else are they gonna go on cute dates on the beach as the sun goes down?? Ive been listening to abracadabra by Lady Gaga for days, its been keeping me sane.

Mark and the bad bitch he pulled by being a nerd. i had a lot of fun writing this, i would love to write more about these two, or more vampire reader,,,

You guys would first have met after he became a hero, sometime during season 2. Probably before he got Oliver but after his dad left the planet and Mark wanted to fix everything and started working with Cecil.

The GDA knew of your existence of course. You were the first ever vampire, created through horrible magic and rituals against your will. This meant you couldn’t die, even from the sun or a stake or silver.

Every other vampire someone would meet would come from you in some way. Or rather, they were bitten by someone who was bitten by someone, so on and so forth until it reached you, kinda like a disease. The further out you go, the wilder and more animalistic the vampires are.

The few vampires you have bitten and turned yourself are strong and can walk in sunlight, and have other otherworldly powers, but those they bite have weaker powers, etc etc. and all other vampires but you can die. As long as life and death exist, so will you.

How you guys meet can be a mixed bag, but the most plausible is that some rabid vampires have run wild somewhere, and Mark was sent to deal with them since his skin can’t be pierced by their fangs.

The vampires he encounters are naked, human-looking creatures with warped faces, a mouth full of sharp teeth, shark bat-like features and the like. The only thing human about them is their shape.

A nest of vampires has run wild, and as the so called “vampire king”, “vampire well” or even “first vampiric ancestor”, its your duty to take care of it when it gets out of hand.

At this point Mark isn’t at his strongest, so the nest of vampire spawn gain the upper hand. Even with super strength, its hard for Mark since he also doesn’t want to kill at this point, and these technically were humans once.

So, imagine Marks shock, as he’s being overpowered by hundreds of these creatures that are more instinct than sense, when these creatures are sliced in half and turn into dust.

As the vampire king you can teleport all over the planet, you could probably even warp other planets if you focused hard enough. You might have done that once or twice, leading to vampirism spreading to different parts of the universe… but nobody has to know that…

What you wear can be up for debate, do you wear something from the time you died? Something Victorian? Or modern? I can’t imagine you are too involved with the current fashion since time passes so fast for you, so maybe it’s a bit out of fashion. You still look great though.

Maybe it’s having been beaten so hard by the now dead spawn, or maybe it’s just your vampiric influence, but Mark finds himself blushing and breathing a little harder.

The first time you meet doesn’t lead to much other than you taking care of the spawn, apologizing to Mark for causing such a mess and telling him you will take more care of your offspring. Mark just kinda goes “yeah, okay, thanks man…” before passing out.

You end up teleporting mark back to the GDA, or wherever hes being brought, like to the new guardians or whatever. Because obviously none of their protection measures can keep you out. It’s only weaker vampires that need an invitation inside.

They are all pretty damn uncomfortable when you comment about how nice Marks blood smells, because being thousands of years old also means you don’t have any shame in stating the obvious.

You say hello to Immortal before leaving. Of course, you guys know each other, both being immortal and all that. You guys play cards at least once every ten years or so, sometimes more, sometimes less.

This is also why Immortal is the most chill about you showing up, coming and going as you please, and saying Mark smells delicious. You once said he smelled delicious too when you first met, the stronger the person the better their blood and all. Now you guys are friends though, in a way.

After that you guys meet every now and then, mainly because you take his interest and Immortals friendship as an invite to come and go as you please, like a big scary housecat dressed in black.

You also follow him around (stalk him pretty much), and maybe it’s just him secretly loving steamy vampire fanfiction, or some viltrumite instinct, but being hunted is exciting.

You guys finally starting to date would also happen at some random moment when you guys are alone. You would have known about Marks attraction from the very moment you met, but your cold unbeating heart had started warming up around him too.

All his rambling about heroes and fictional stories worked like a charm. The many many questions about vampires and pop culture was cute too. He couldn’t believe that the whole weak to garlic thing started as an inside joke amongst vampires and spread out, when it wasn’t even true.

Mark was positively shocked when the whole pop culture idea that being bitten felt good turned out to be true. Later you would explain it was all about intent and reception. If you wanted it to hurt and he feared you, then it would have hurt. But because he was a little freak who was really into it, then it brought pleasure.

Mark also never thought you would be able to bite through his skin, but you could. Only because of your whole, king of the vampires, first original vampire, deal. Any other vampire wouldn’t be able to bite through vultrumite skin.

Being able to rip through vultrumites will be useful later, and not needing to breathe and being able to fly as well. But that’s for later space adventures.

When the whole thing with Oliver happens, you are of course there to support Mark, but also his family. Cecil also knows not to fuck with you, because its all thanks to you that the dead don’t rise and come for him every single day.

This may mean it doesn’t end as badly as in season 3, or, Mark just has some more support, very powerful support that the GDA knows to fear. Because how is Cecil gonna manipulate the original manipulator? The one strong enough to bewitch the entire planet if he wanted to?

You also have a better time explaining morals and powers to Oliver, since you are still stronger than him at this point, so you can put him in his place when he needs it. Being nonhuman also helps a lot, since Oliver feels his power disconnects him from humanity.

This gives Mark some more room to find himself and settle, and yeah, I feel like him and his family end up moving into wherever you stay. Be it some massive gothic castle in Romania, or a Victorian mansion at the edge of a massive cliff in England, who knows.

Both because its safer, more comfortable, and they get to feel like they don’t always have to look over their shoulder.

You don’t survive the coffin allegations though, since you sleep in a grand one, and have at least 100 different coffins you switch between. Most were gifts from your spawn, or one or two from immortal as “congrats on living another hundred” gift. You gifted him weapons or houses in return.

Mark can’t sleep in the coffins with you, since he hates how claustrophobic it makes him. But he will sleep beside the coffin. You guys keep the lid pushed to the side enough for you to stick a hand out, so you guys can hold hands.

I feel like Oliver would thrive a lot under you and your spawns, since you keep your “children” in line. Being direct descendants of you means they are powerful enough to play and roughhouse with, but also help him train.

Mark trains with you instead, and it regularly ends up with him almost giggling and kicking his feet as you pin him down, barring his neck all “oh please, vampire king, please don’t bite me”.

It takes Debbie a while to settle in, but maybe she meets one of your spawn to gets on with well, or she doesn’t at all. Maybe she just takes the time to heal and find herself when she sees her sons are happy.

You end up getting the shovel talk from her though, which all your direct descendants peek around the corner of the doorway to watch. Somehow you look meek as she points a finger at you and tell you to treat her son right and with respect.

I haven’t read very far in the comics so I cant tell you what happens after this, but Mark will have you by his side when everything goes down, and that might help change it to a more positive outcome.

It might help to have a lover who isn’t held back by his humanity and morals. You are more than willing to turn entire planets into your mindless spawn if it means keeping your dear ones safe. It does lead to a horrible argument and Mark not talking to you for a while, but he forgives you at some point.

Reading his secret fanfic does help with that, even if it means you have to dress like a man from the current era, style your hair and stalk him when he sleeps (as if you don’t already do that).

Being a super ancient and rich vampire also means you can pile gifts on Mark, Oliver and Debbie. Mostly Mark, but you don’t want his kin to be left out. So, Mark gets to live out his nerdy dreams to the extreme.

You’ll remodel a whole part of your house for him if it comes down to it. Your direct spawn will coo at you becoming soft. You let them, for now, but you’ll get your revenge, especially seeing them all tied around the Grayson’s fingers too.

You are so used to dealing with the GDA that it also isn’t hard to keep them at bay, how are they gonna invade a place that’s existed longer than democracy? You will burn the whole place down if you have too. Anything for your nerdy little hero.

[remeberm3]

bleeding heart | k.m

⎯⎯“But if there is a day meant to celebrate love, then why should I not love you a little louder?”

warnings: fluff

“Love is an art,” Klaus once told you, years ago, “and like all great art, it is meant to consume you.”

But tonight, love is a paper heart trampled underfoot. It is red ribbons and wilting roses, a hollow holiday built on grand gestures and empty promises. It is the bitter taste of store-bought chocolate melting on your tongue as you sit beside him, watching the world celebrate something that has never come to you softly.

“Valentine’s Day is a scam,” you announce, tossing a heart-shaped chocolate at Klaus without much aim.

He catches it—of course he does—with absurd ease, his fingers precise and effortless, like even gravity bends to his will.

“Oh?” He peels back the foil as if unwrapping something far more interesting than a simple chocolate. “And here I thought you were quite the romantic.”

You scoff, propping your chin on your palm. “I am. But Valentine’s Day isn’t romance—it’s a battlefield. Overpriced flowers, bad poetry, desperate declarations. You can feel the tension in the air. Everyone wants to be loved the most.” You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s all so—performative.”

Klaus hums, popping the chocolate into his mouth with infuriating grace. He tilts his head, studying you, his gaze a little too knowing. “And yet,” he says, once he’s swallowed, his lips curling at the edges, “you still got me a gift.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. Someone gave me those chocolates. I’m merely passing them along.”

“Mm.” His amusement does not waver. “Well, then, I suppose it’s only fair that I do the same.”

Before you can ask what he means, he tosses something your way.

Your hands move on instinct. A necklace.

No—a locket.

Slightly worn, slightly older than you expected, but beautiful nonetheless.

Your breath stills. “Klaus—”

“Open it,” he says softly.

You do.

Inside—a painting. Tiny, impossibly detailed, hand-painted. On one side, you. On the other, a blood-red flower, petals curling like the edges of a secret.

A bleeding heart.

You exhale, something warm and painful swelling in your chest. “You painted this?”

His voice is even, easy. “Of course. What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t immortalize you in art?”

Lover.

The word sits between you, breathless, unspoken, known.

You swallow, fingers curling around the locket. “Klaus…”

“You call it a scam,” he murmurs, stepping closer, slow, deliberate, the scent of him warm and familiar. “But if there is a day meant to celebrate love, then why should I not love you a little louder?”

Your heart stutters.

There is something unbearably soft in the way he looks at you—like you are beloved, like you are worthy, like you are his.

“You do realize,” you say, voice quieter now, “that I didn’t get you anything even close to this?”

He smiles. “You gave me chocolate.”

You snort, shaking your head. “That wasn’t even mine to give.”

He hums, thoughtful. “Then I suppose you owe me something else, don’t you?”

Your breath catches as he leans in, lips brushing against yours but not quite kissing you.

You close your eyes. He is there, his presence something steady, something certain, something that does not demand but simply waits.

Your fingers tighten around the locket.

“What kind of lover would I be if I didn’t immortalize you?”

You open your eyes.

And this time, you close the space between you.

Soft. Sweet. Yours.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

Maybe love, at its best, was never meant to be performed.

Maybe it was only ever meant to be felt.

[creature-wizard]

I keep thinking about the post talking about how scammers will try and tell you how they're going to prove they're the real thing, where the "proof" they will offer you is actually meaningless because it doesn't actually mean what they claim this means, and how this is essentially the way witch hunters operate.

Your early modern witch hunters would always be able to "find" witches because they had easily-filled criteria for what constituted evidence of witchcraft - things like bad weather, strange symptoms and seemingly incurable ailments, night terrors, etc.

Of course, they had no evidence that there was a causal link between any of these things and witchcraft. They just said it was evidence of witchcraft, and a lot of people just assumed they knew what they were talking about.

And so it is with claims that hypnosis and various trance states can help people remember past lives and repressed memories. People with actual doctorates claim that hypnosis can help you uncover repressed memory, even though its ability to do this has never been demonstrated. In fact, the more you start looking into cases where hypnosis was used to help people remember something, the more you find that people can "remember" nearly anything - including, very famously, alien abductions.

In Ritual Abuse and Mind Control: The Manipulation of Attachment Needs (essentially pro-Satanic Panic literature, for those who haven't read it), Valerie Sinason acknowledged the people who seemingly remembered alien abductions, then proceeded to try special pleading for people who "remembered" satanic ritual abuse. Sinason's defense was that SRA was more plausible than alien abductions, therefore we should believe it's actually happening.

Of course, "more plausible" does not equal "actually happening." Just because it's more plausible that I have the skeleton of Elvis Presley in my basement than an alien skeleton, doesn't mean I have the skeleton of Elvis Presley in my basement. And when your methodology for obtaining your so-called evidence is this deeply flawed, you might as well just say "it's true because I want it to be true" and then try to locate all the cultists in your town with dowsing rods.

Indeed, when other people start setting higher standards for evidence, SRA proponents' ability to find witches (or cult programmers, as we're calling them today) vanish. All they can do is try to guilt trip people for allegedly betraying survivors and claim that the critics are part of a malicious conspiracy.

I've both studied and personally been involved in controlling and manipulative groups long enough to recognize this song and dance for what it is - it's fundamentally an assertion that you're betraying the good guys and letting the bad guys win. It's always an act of desperation.

Many Christians pull this when someone tries to leave the faith. It often goes like this: Jesus loves you so much, how could you deny him like this? Also everyone who refuses to become Christian has been deceived by the Devil, and some of them are even working for him on purpose!

Many neopagans do it whenever someone questions or disagrees with whatever dogma their personal group has. It often goes like this: You're betraying the gods (whom you owe your loyalty because they're the gods), and you're letting our Christian oppressors win.

Many peddlers of woo and conspiracy theories do it like this: You're being closed minded (and therefore you're being rude to nice open-minded people like them). You're also just brainwashed by the people who don't want the truth getting out, and you're basically doing their bidding.

Anyway, since I think most of us here can agree that the witch hunts were unjustified and that thousands of innocent people lost their lives, I want you to picture someone saying:

"When you say the Devil's Sabbath wasn't real and the witch hunts targeted innocent women, you're invalidating and erasing the pain of everyone who suffered from the torments of witches. I agree that some innocent people were burned, but there were absolutely real witches working with the Devil to cast evil spells."

As you can see, this rhetoric can be used to defend and justify any bullshit-driven atrocity. Let's try this with another conspiracy theory I think most of us can agree is bullshit - reptilian aliens:

"When you say the Reptilians aren't real and they're based on antisemitic tropes, you're invalidating and erasing the pain of everyone who suffered at their hands. I agree that some innocent people have been accused of being Reptilians, but there are absolutely real Reptilians out there torturing people and killing them to drink their blood."

So in conclusion, we must always think critically about what people present as evidence, and not let them guilt trip us into lowering our standards. Remember:

Efficacy of the evidence-gathering methods must be demonstrated. The methods must be shown to be reliable, unlikely to produce false results.

Causal links must be established. Assertions that X causes Y must be backed up with empirical evidence.

Other explanations must be ruled out. Do not assume the most sensational explanation without ruling out more common ones. As the saying in medicine goes, if you see hoofprints, think horses, not zebras. Do not consider zebras until horses (and any other common equines) can be ruled out.

[flipocrite]

I feel like it was in the best interests of America (’s elite) to be deliberately vague about the way our country educated its younger generations about fascism. I went to a magnet high school that did in fact go off-curriculum with a whole year spent analyzing 1984 in English class, but I don’t recall too much of a description of fascism in history class besides “authoritarian”, “censorship/book burning”, and “the bad guys in WWII”. This incomplete education conveys three incomplete ideas:

Authoritarian: fascism is when someone tells me I have to obey rules I don’t like, or that I will face consequences for disregarding them.

Censorship/book-burning: fascism is when people tell me I can’t use hate speech.

The bad guys in WWII: it was a thing of the past, so don’t worry about it.

Now we were smart students, we knew there was more to it. But fascism has a long, shameful, predictable history for which we as a country could have formally prepared, but chose not to. Not, I feel, because it wasn’t important, but because too many powerful people thought “hey, we might want to use some of these authoritarian tools someday, and we won’t be able to do that if people recognized where they came from”.

Maybe things would have been different if the key takeaways had been something like:

Fascism promises good things. It begins as populism, promising a return (i.e. inherently right-wing, reactionary, and not progressive) to economic normalcy/prosperity for the working-class. It promises safety, security, and comfort, like a old friend or… “older sibling”. It might introduce itself as a nationalist (or a patriot if the audience recognizes the former as a red flag), but it will not introduce itself with a handshake and “Hi, I’m evil and I like hurting people.” Historically, however, it has introduced itself bearing a flag and a catchy slogan, “Make Germany Great Again”.

Fascism preys on emotion and exploits it. It takes not just logical, but emotionally intelligent people to recognize this as it’s happening. It justifies division, violence, and distrust by stoking one’s senses of fear, anger and disgust (the three of which combine to create hate). The first thing fascism tells you is “You are fearful and angry and you need someone to blame”, and the second is “These people are disgusting, let us give them what they deserve”. Everyone believes in human rights until someone is an alleged terrorist or pedophile, after which “I’m so fearful, angry, and disgusted that I will actively disengage the rational part of myself that would otherwise seek to verify these allegations. In fact, I won’t even pause to logically acknowledge the dangers of allowing the state to torture or execute anyone subject to unverifiable accusations”. This is where English classes have a duty to drive home the fact that propaganda works best on self-proclaimed “logical/rational/unemotional thinkers”; they have simply chosen to identify their emotions as logical reasoning (e.g. conflating facts and opinions) and that makes them dangerous. Emotions are like assholes, in that everyone has them, you won’t see your own without some self-reflection, and the people who claim they don’t have one definitely have some kind of serious unexamined problem.

Fascism preys on logical thinking and destroys it. It requires a strict control of information and the narrative, and is an enemy of art, science, and journalism (c.f. lügenpresse). Its most powerful enemy, however, is truth itself, which means all institutions dedicated to credibility must be thoroughly discredited. Without truth, there can be no basis upon which logic can stand. This will manifest of course as book-banning/burning, but more subtly (and perhaps more importantly) as flooding political discourse with conspiracy theories and lies, ranging from a constant stream of small ones to the DISTRACTINGLY BLATANT. These may either be doubled down on, serve as a foot-in-the-door, or be hand-waved/forgotten as “They didn’t really mean that”. It would take dedicated teams of experts operating 24/7 to investigate and debunk such a constant stream of lies… if not for the lies “the experts can’t be trusted” and “Everyone lies anyways so it doesn’t matter”. The most effective propaganda has a clear direction and an unverifiable amount of truth. This includes the legendary “All politicians are corrupt” – i.e. “If no one is trustworthy, a logical choice is impossible… so vote with your emotions or stay home”. When fascism appears on your doorstep, it will be selling logical fallacies, and they will be emotionally justified. So when you turn on MSNBC or FOX, ask yourself even before if it is factually true: “Are they trying to tell me what I should think happened? Or are they trying to tell me how to feel about it?”

There are other signs and symptoms of a sick democracy, of course, such as “Suppression of sexuality and deviation from traditional gender roles” or “Obsession with law and order to the extent of sacrificing all privacy to a surveillance state for the promise of security”. But I am no expert to be cited with scholarly authority. This is mostly wishful thinking on my part, since none of this would be able to happen without America also recognizing the dangers of and taking protections against wealth inequality. In that sense, a nation like this was doomed from the very beginning, like watching the life cycle of a dying star.

Dictators in History:

- Hitler – “The good of the state stands above the law.”

- Mussolini – “Everything within the state, nothing outside the state, nothing against the state.”

- Napoleon Bonaparte – “I am the revolution.”

- Francisco Franco – “I am responsible only to God and to history.”

Trump:

"He who saves his country does not violate any law"

[emmg]

Swapped sugar daddy anon crawling back into ur inbox, (I am continuing to write the beginning of their relationship, and ngl my respect for fic writers has tripled. I have no idea how you do this I feel like a 5 yr old smacking 2 barbies together and yelling kiss) and apologies for how long this is but I’ve been thinking about how everything eventually blows up in their faces and I kinda want it to be a pregnancy scare in her final year? They’ve been seeing each other for a few years now, and they get a little relaxed about things, they’re exclusive and she’s on the pill so they don’t have to worry about it. Until her period is several weeks late so she takes a test just in case and suddenly they really do. And oh god she wants kids, especially Emmrich’s kids, but not right now??? She doesn’t want to have to juggle pregnancy/a baby while writing and defending her thesis. They haven’t even talked about kids yet even if she’s pretty sure he wants them? He hasn’t acknowledged her hints about marriage, is it because he doesn’t want to marry her? She’s so scared about what this means and she needs Emmrich’s support and why is he being so weird and cagey about this? Does he think she’s trying to baby trap him? (She doesn’t know but he wouldn’t mind, he’d probably say thank you)

And Emmrich is in crisis mode. Now, he is a pro choice king so whatever rook wants is what happens, but also oh god he wants this child sooo bad. He’s always wanted kids but he’d kinda given up on it at this point and add in that it’s Rooks baby? a little piece of their love made physical (Don’t think too hard about how she doesn’t really love you Emmrich). An excuse to still see her sometimes, even if it means watching her eventually move on and marry and start a family with someone else. Even if she doesn’t want to be involved he could keep this little part of her (its only for a second, but he thinks he’d give her anything she asked for, he’d pay off her student loans, he’d buy her a fucking house, if she let him have this even if she walks away from it) but she can’t know that. He’d never forgive himself if he pressured her into this no matter how much he wants it. And he realises how completely and utterly fucked he is. Rook is the love of his life but he isn’t hers and there’s no way that this can continue as it is. If she keeps the baby she’ll never really be able to leave him behind, and is he selfish enough to ruin her life like that? He’s already bought the last three years with fancy restaurants and expensive gifts, what can he possibly offer her that’s worth the rest of her life?

I’m still not 100% sure about how it all comes out but I imagine that it's probably a fight, their first big real fight, about how rook feels like Emmrich’s being avoidant and unsupportive and Emmrich is fighting for his life bc internally he’s hanging on by a thread, like why is she treating this like their relationship is actually real? He’s trying to build up some emotional distance bc no matter how this goes he’s kinda fucked and he wants to make sure that he makes it through this at least somewhat emotionally intact. I think rook eventually calls him out on this, saying something about how she thought he was serious about this, about her, how she thought they were gonna get married but how he’s acting is making her rethink that bc it doesn’t seem like he is very serious about her right now. And he says something about how of course he wants to marry her but he wouldn’t put her in that position bc he knows it would be unfair to ask her for that. And rook is like what the actual fuck are you talking about Emmrich? And Emmrich is crying at this point, quietly and very prettily but he is crying. And this is when the misunderstanding comes out, where Emmrich is like “I know you don’t actually love me and I don’t expect you to, but I would appreciate it if we could discuss this situation without pretending that you do.” and this is when rook starts to put the pieces together and is like “wait do u think i'm only with you for your money” and Emmrich’s like “yes? Why else would you be dating me?”

I have absolutely zero ideas on how this is actually resolved but i know that emmrich 100% ugly sobs at some point. And realistically he’s probably still quite insecure about whether or not rook actually does love him but i feel like they work it out eventually and get married and are disgustingly happy together.

Also idk if they keep the baby or not, but they absolutely have at least 1 kid at some point.

BABYYYYYY I am ON MY KNEES begging you to publish this because I have read and re-read it so many times that I’m basically in a parasocial relationship with your asks. At this point, just reading your ideas is activating my primal hunger instincts. I’m starving. I am THIS CLOSE to organizing a fandom-wide intervention where we collectively cyberbully you into dropping this holy manuscript.

The way I flatlined at "pro-choice king"—like, I ascended. I left my body. LMAO

Listen, I am normally violently allergic to the "and they lived happily ever after with 2.5 kids and a suburban mortgage" trope. I break out in hives. I see it, and suddenly the book I loved turns into a mid-tier Hallmark movie where the protagonist goes from slaying demons to clutching her stomach and whispering “oh my god.” Like, girl. GIRL. No. Keep that away from me. Anyway, thanks for attending my TED Talk.

BUT. FUCKING. EMMRICH VOLKARIN. This man was engineered in a lab to be a father. He was born for it. I go absolutely rabid over the idea of him having a daughter. He is so girl-dad-coded that it’s spiritual. Rook so much as mentions her period is late, and this man is weeping.

He’s already drafting a will.

He's calling his lawyer.

He’s distributing his gold bars.

He’s making her his sole life insurance beneficiary.

"And rook is like what the actual fuck are you talking about Emmrich?" — lmfao nah for real. What did you think these last three years were? And Emmrich does that Gob face from Arrested Development, you know the one:

I want him to cry and then I want them to fuck and then I want him to cry while they fuck. That's it, your honor.

[factual-fantasy]

24 Asks! Thanks ya'll! 🐼

@holly-opal-2 (Sorry for the late reply!)

Aw <:( I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope that doesn't happen again.

Also of course they are! :}} I have always considered them as such 💞

Thank you! Happy (late) Valentines day! :DD

@stargirldrawsx3

Man, I feel you there. I'm sorry you weren't able to study. I hope things go well for you 🙏

@narrator-girlart

I saw Markiplier play it some weeks ago, but mostly forgot about it.. I was surprised to see it gain such traction on Tumblr. Maybe I'll have to go rewatch those videos and figure out why people love it so much :00 (I cant remember the events of the game 💀)

@dreamweave01

That could work!! :DDD

(ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!😭😭💞💞💞 )

Yeahhh.. I have been battling some health problems for almost a year now. Trying my best to work on it but thing's aren't going so well. <://

Thank you very much though, I hope the same for you! :))

@milk-powrit

Tom Nook is an angel, the "only good landlord" he's been called. And I agree! This might explain why though I didn't read all the way through- just skimmed over it and thought "yeah I think this has the right points"

@necropencil (Referencing this post)

AAA THANK YOU!! :DD

(I am also slowly going insane thanks to Wheeljack XDD)

@badlyblurry

XDD Well its like they say, great minds think alike! Also thank you so much!! :DDDD💞💞💞

AAAAA thank you!! :DD Or- you're welcome? <XDD

@shyzonkstudentlawyer

Oh wow, welcome back! :DD And thank you! I'm trying to try to work on my health and make improvements where I can manage it.. so far things have uh.. Well, it could be worse I suppose!😅

Also AAAA THANK YOU THANK YOU!! :DDD I'm so glad to hear you like what I've made! :DDDD

Now for you questions...

When it comes to the Welcome Home stuff, just imagine our world through a puppet/sesame street style show lens. They have the same food but its all colorful and has silly names. Their trees are like ours but they're crazy colors and grow fantasy fruit. Their technology develops like ours but its all colorful and silly. Etc, Etc-

Now for TADC... I hadn't actually thought about it <:0 maybe Sneemos jester hat things would flail around :0 I haven't thought about it otherwise though😔

Lastly, PFFF XDDD

(Item-dying woes post in ask)

😔You feel my pain.. I feel your pain........

@wolfie-777

:000! You heard it here folks! I'm silly!

She always looks lovely! :))

@tearsofsolace

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! :DDD🥰🥰💞💞💞💞

@eggswastaken

XDD That I did!

..Well, I actually got into it back in 2020-- but recently I have dragged myself back into the fandom a bit. 😂 The biggest obstacle I have to rejoining the fandom fully is just making time to sit down and rewatch the show.

I have such a hard time switching tasks and just doing something 💀 but hopefully I'll get there soon! <:)))

@minnesotamedic186

@little-goober

Oh yeah, sorry! I have very bad memory 😅 I can only really remember people by their profile pictures.

Also thank you so much! :)))

Thank you so much!! 🥰🥰

@bluetootsiepop

My advice is to study references closely. When it comes to making faces up/drawing faces without a reference? Like if its an OC? I'm afraid I cant think of any advice <:( I struggle with that a lot too. 😔

(Also thank you so much!! :DD )

@ourlifestooshort

I have drawn them, but I don't feel comfortable sharing my ref sheets.. Sorry! <:/

I looked up Tailgate with no mask and I will never sleep well again 💀

Also feel free to tell me anything you want about the comics! I don't plan on reading them 😔 I only plan on rewatching Transformers: Prime.

@bitesyoubitesyouchomp

SCEAMSSSS THANKYOUUU 😭😭 THAT'S ALL SO SWEET IM IN TEARS💞💞💞

@beryl-shade

Imagine if my blood was blue XD I'd be a transformer!

[dandysworldhcs]

Tem back at it again with the strange biology rants

Okok. Warning though because i talk abt a bit of gore and grossness, also mentions of needle injections, and also death. If you dont wanna hear abt organs then you dont need to post this ask, idrm!!/gen

Toons, when being created, were based off of humans in terms of biology. Of course, their heads would be objects, but the neck down would be relatively the same. At least, until they dumbed it down for the appeal of the child audience

- their mouths are the same. Teeth, tongue, esophagus. They still produce spit. They don't lose teeth, however. They might get tonsil stones.

- They lack noses, yet still breathe? I like to think its "just the art style" but it makes no sense. Either give them noses, or let the ichor they're made out of breathe. Imagine breathing skin, thats weird! This would also mean they cant produce snot, which is weird.

- Their bodies are simple. They have fingers that seem to come and go as they please. Like are only there when its convenient. Pretty weird.

- They lack organs. They lack bones! Their bodies are just hardened (to a degree), purified ichor. When cut open, they bleed, of course, but you wont see any muscle, or bone, or veins. Its just ichor. Its freaky as hell

- Ichor is a corrosive substance, which is why raw ichor is so dangerous. Its also why twisteds are the way they are. Its a ichor overdosage.

- and since ichor is a corrosive substance, theres no need for the standard human waste track. As a way to make the toons as non-sexual as possible, they reworked their systems, practically removing anything past the stomach. The urinary and reproductive tracks were removed; everything ends at the stomach. The ichor will simply dissolve any humanly edible substance into energy to replicate and reproduce ichor cells. Anything deemed inedible (metal, plastic, basically anything humans cant eat), can only go one way out, by vomitting. They get belly aches if they can't vomit it up, and it needs to be forced out via triggering the gag reflex. The amount of times Sprout likely had to have a toon cough something up because they ate something bad is likely too many times to count.

- i will say they do have lungs. Works like human lungs. Can get infected. They technically dont need hearts, as they lack veins or blood to circulate oxygen through their system. If they did, theyd need it to keep ichor production abd ichor reproduction going.

- Toons were always capable of aging, but then why havent we seen anyone really grow *old*? Well, its in their food. The food at Gardenview, specifically the kind used for toon consumption, has ichor in it. A small amount, yes, but they eat so much to where they dont even notice it. Fresh ichor being out into their bodies means they can retain their young form. Its why Toodles will never physically age. With physical age, mental age qlso comes with it. She will stay around 8 forever due to this.

- BECAUSE of this, if a toon were to ween off of the food at Gardenview, and stick with strict human diet, at first, nothing would happen. Jts just that fresh new ichor isnt being put into their bodies (an alternative is shots, but i doubt theyd want that. Hell i doubt they even know that ichor is put into their food). But after a while, their ichor forms will begin to grow old, unable to keep a steady flux of new cells, and just begin reusing the old cells. Due to this, the toon will begin to age, similarly to a human. Skin will grow saggy, their object heads differing depending on what they are (as in Boxten's paint will begin to dull, Tisha's cardboard head will weaken, and her tissues thinning. Stuff like that.)

- and eventually... the cells cannot keep regenerating themselves. And their forms cannot retain. And eventually they will return to the raw ichor form, becoming a puddle on the floor. Rip losers

- they can sweat. Its weird. Do they smell? Maybe. Not every toon showers tho. Some will (shrimpo, finn, teagan, ect), and some use other cleaning methods (flutter, gigi, boxten, ect). Some literally cant (scraps, vee, poppy). Its not like they guys can smell bad...

- they have eye colors because i say so

- they dont have finger nails :( or finger prints. No traction on surfaces theyre gonna slip and fall :(

Ok i think thats it. Sorry i went on a rant my bad. Im not looking back for spelling mistakes

no no, im in love with this. GOD i love biology headcanons.... feed me more......

[gretavanflame]

Baby Breathe

Jake Kiszka x Reader (f)

Cw: SMUT including: vulgar phone sex, use of pet names, mutual masturbation, rough penetration, technically exhibitionism but like not really I swear, slight pining

Word Count: 1.4k

“Hey baby” his voice is a low whisper, sounding gravely over the phone and quiet enough not to be heard by the other boys on the tour bus. 

“Hey Jake!” You blink the sleep from your eyes, sitting up to lean against the wall.

“I miss you so much.”

Jake closes his eyes, a smile creeping on his face as he hears your sleepy mumble. 

“I miss you too.” He sighs, sounding tired as well. He pauses. You can hear his breathing, and it sounds like he’s just walked up a long flight of stairs.

“What time is it for you, cupcake?” 

“Umm…” You check your phone screen. “Almost 12 am here.”

“Oh shit-” he chuckles. He sounds exhausted and his deep voice is a steady rumble. “I didn’t mean to make you stay up late. Please forgive me.”

You giggle at his charm and the way he so effortlessly makes you smitten. 

“What time is it for you?” 

“It’s almost 2. We just got back, but I wanted to call you before I went to bed.”

You hear him shift on the tour bus cot. 

“I miss you so fucking much y/n. You know that right?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much. The house just feels so empty without you. Are you doing okay? You sound tired.”

“Yeah we’re all good here- just a long day is all. Wanted to talk to my favorite girl.”

You roll over to the side of your bed, holding the phone right up to your ear in the pitch black room, smiling so hard you feel like your lips might fall off. 

“Well I want to talk to my favorite boy.”

You wait for his response, closing your eyes to conjure up an image of your sweet man when you hear something that grabs your attention. A moan- the softest sound, drifting gracefully off his tongue. You freeze, positive you’ve imagined it but straining your ears to hear it again. After just a beat, it comes- this time with a sort of desperate breathy quality. Your thighs clamp together. 

“What are you wearing?” he chokes, sounding half desperate.

“I’m just wearing underwear” you lie, turning on your back as your legs fall open. “The black lace one you got me before you left.”

“Fuck.” he whispers.

You hear something wet. Something slick, moving slowly to a steady beat. It’s so quiet over the phone that you hold your breath just to hear it.

“Take them off,” he demands cooly. 

You quickly slide the panties down your legs, letting them fall to the floor. Your legs spread in anticipation. 

“Touch your tits baby. Just squeeze and pinch those nipples for me.”

You do as you're told, sliding your hand up your tank top to touch and squeeze yourself.

“Spread your legs y/n” Jake groans.

“I already am.”

“Goodgirl.” 

You feel a rush of heat to your core.

“I want you to open the drawer, and pull out your little dildo. Tell me when you’ve done that, okay?”

“Okay” you reply promptly, eager, as if responding to him is as instinctive as breathing.

You open the drawer, searching blindly until your hand reaches silicone.

“I’ve got it.”

“Give it a kiss.”

You bring the toy to your mouth, kissing the spot just under its tip, just how Jake likes it. You imagine his cock twitching in your mouth- the precum mixing with your saliva, making the hot, pink skin shine. 

“I bet you look so fucking sexy right now. Alone is bed already riled up just because of the sound of my voice. I bet you want me y/n” he states, leaving no room for disagreement, although there wouldn’t have been anyway.

“I want you so fucking bad Jakey. When you get home, I need you to fuck me right away so I don’t have wait any longer for your cock.”

He lets a whimper slip out before quickly regaining his footing.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard that all you won’t be able to sit for a week. I wanna feel you stretch around me, squeeze me till I fucking burst.” A tiny, “fuck” followed by a moan. “My hand doesn’t feel as good as your pretty, little, pussy.” 

His hand works over himself faster now, breath becoming louder. 

“Put it in your mouth.”

You lick the underside of the dildo, momentarily forgetting that it isn’t actually him before you rest in on your tongue, sliding into your mouth.

“Imagine it's me. Suck my cock baby. Suck it real nice and deep.”

You push it in an inch deeper, eyes shutting tight when a small gag forces its way from your throat.

“Good job baby. You sound so fucking good. My cock hurts.”

“I wanna suck on it Jakey.”

You bite your lip, listening to the sounds of him stroking his wet cock thinking about you.

“Fuck yourself with it y/n. Just slide it right in.”

You bring the dildo down to your entrance, running it up and down to gather up slick. You nudge the head in, moving it in circles before your body opens up to let it inside. When it pops in, you gasp suddenly before sighing out a long moan. 

You push it in slowly. Taking it inch by inch as it stretches you out.

“I bet it doesn't make you feel as full as I do. I wish it was me who could fuck you in two right now. I wanna fucking break you.” he groans low and long, his hand working rapidly.

You pick up speed, bottoming out the toy and fucking yourself along to the rhythm of his movements. You feel the pleasure start to build up and soon small moans and pants escape you.

“Fuck yourself harder for me, cupcake” he spits the name out like a curse, gaining speed as he pulls himself closer along from the sound of your pathetic moans.

You push the toy in fast, faster, and then as fast and deep as it can go. You feel your leg begin to shake as you teeter on the edge.

“Touch your clit too. You think you can do that? Think you can fuck yourself and stroke that pink little clit all at the same time?”

You moan as your thumb swipes over your aching clit with every thrust of your hand. You feel yourself so close- white hot with tension.

“Keep talking Jake. Please” you cry.

“You wanna hear my voice? Does it make you so fucking wet. I can feel how you taste. If I close my eyes and imagine. You’re so sweet y/n, that’s why you're my little cupcake. And when I get back home, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m just gonna fuck you over and over again until I get bored, and maybe then, I’ll have you touch yourself, just like this, right in front of me while I just watch.”

You gasp and moan shakily as your hips twitch and shake. You’re so close that if you just-

“Cum.”

It explodes inside you. Your stomach tightens and contracts, legs shaking as you chant his name over and over again in a hushed whisper. You curl your toes and your mouth falls open as your hand thrusts the dildo harder and harder into your poor, convulsing pussy. 

You hear a loud grunt followed by a sigh and little shudders that make you worry that he’ll be heard. He lets out a long exhale and you picture his cum dripping down the side of his knuckles.

Your own breath starts to even out as you come down. Your legs finally settle themselves over the sheets.

You lay your head back, resting it as a huge smile spreads across your face.

“That was amazing Jake. I love you so much.”

You pause for a second before being met with the soft sound of snoring. Your heart swells as you pull the phone away from your ear to look at his profile picture. Poor baby probably had the longest day of his life but still made time to talk to you. 

You rest the phone gently on the bed while you go to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back, you place the phone on your nightstand and allow yourself to fall asleep to the sound of Jake’s breathing. 

.

.

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[girlnadian]

hello five.... its me..... as for the kiss prompts thing, if you could write kenifies drunk/sloppy kissing i would be Very happy. i need to see those two inebriated

kiss prompts — 3. drunk/sloppy kiss

hello keni.... welcome to my inbox..... it is an honor to write kenifies for you as always. here you go. i still feel like getting wifies drunk is like an hours long complicated process but ken can figure it out

594 words // divider

Ken is a solid, rumbling weight in his lap, claws at his throat and lips pressing against every part of his face except his mouth. It's not purposeful; they just keep missing. Wifies doesn't bother trying to help them, partially because his limbs feel too heavy to and partially because the longer he can delay any actual kissing, the longer Ken will have to sit on his thighs trying. The idea of Ken getting up kind of makes him feel like he'll cry.

Wifies digs his fingers into Ken's waist without meaning to, like he can hold them there, and Ken jolts. Oops. Fuck.

"Sorry," Wifies mumbles. He doesn't loosen his hold, though. He's not used to the feeling—getting drunk is something they only figured out he could do recently, and only because Ken had workshopped some kind of concoction especially for him. Wifies doesn't get why they care so much about getting him drunk, but he also does, kind of. Wifies certainly likes Ken when they're drunk, so he reasons that Ken will like Wifies drunk in the same way.

Ken has abandoned his face to press kisses down the column of his neck. "You can do whatever you want," they tell him. The to me goes unsaid. Wifies knows it's there, though—Ken says it all the time. He slides a hand up their back to grip the nape of their neck, the almost-scruff startling another noise out of them and making something warm bubble in Wifies' stomach like lava.

He tilts their head back until they can kiss properly. Actually, saying it's "proper" is generous; Ken kisses him open-mouthed and warm and panting, their tongue sandpaper-rough when they lick into his mouth. Trying to ground himself is useless, so Wifies lets himself get swept up in it, pressing up hard until Ken tilts. They wind up crammed against the couch cushions under him—it would be a pretty sight if Wifies could detach himself from them long enough to look.

They're alone—thank God—so Wifies doesn't worry too much about the noises they're making. Ken writhes, twisting with excess energy even as Wifies tries to hold them in place, and it's making kissing them very difficult, which doesn't seem fair because they started this. Wifies bears down on them harder, letting out a frustrated growl unbidden.

Ken makes a new noise, which Wifies registers as pained on a delay. He rears back like he's been slapped, eyes wide. (He doesn't miss the string of saliva that connects them when he does, which he will be thinking about for approximately the rest of forever.)

"Ow, ow, ow," Ken whines. Wifies hovers and mildly panics until Ken says, "my tail."

Ken sits up, turning their back to him while their palm tries to smooth over the base of their tail. Oh. Wifies probably crushed them—he's usually more careful about that. Wifies moves their hand out of the way with his own, petting down Ken's spine apologetically.

"Sorry," he says, again, bumping his forehead into their shoulder when he tries to kiss a shoulder blade. This is so hard. He misses being coordinated.

"Happens," says Ken. Their ears are upright again where they had been pinned a moment ago, so he didn't hurt them too bad. "It's fun though, right? Drunk making out."

Wifies hums an agreement. Difficult, but fun—Wifies likes challenges, anyway, and he likes Ken even more. His lips find a sensitive spot under their jaw. Ken's skin trembles against him when they purr.

"We can do more?" He asks.

"Of course. Obviously. Come here."

[iiapplemouse]

Words Pierced with Love, S.Hanta

@ gn!reader, late valentines special ¡ not proofread

masterlist

it was a week before valentines day, the class had agreed to plan on an activity that they could do together as a whole. mina was mostly the one who took the initiative, knowingly she's worked up for this kind of stuff. long story short, the majority collectively voted for your idea, which is to give handwritten letters for your friends and loved ones.

it would be your 3rd year by now, everyone had become close with one another. you've seen each and one of their strengths and weaknesses, their best and worst days. they've become an extended branch of your family, and it's nature shows itself as well, making sure no one gets left behind.

surprisingly, no one has gotten together with anyone. most are likely yet to confess, trying to wait for the right time. you, on the other hand, there was a special someone who had caught your attention since the start. one who you considered to be your best friend and life time, partner in crime. sero was your rock, the one who had been there for you these past years. something about him had just lured you in even further down the rabbit hole, not that you're complaining. you wouldn't have it any other way.

you were in your room, a blank sheet of paper staring right back at you. the other letters written were already folded into their individual envelopes. finally writing for your best friend, you're now stuck brainstorming on what to say.

"do i confess right here, right now or do I keep it casual?" are the questions that keep running through your mind. god knows on what would even happen if it would ruin your friendship, but a part of you was telling you to fuck everything and spill your guts out onto that sheet of paper that was likely getting impatient if it had a life of its own.

it ended up being longer than you'd expect it to, now tucking it safely into its envelope. signing it off by adding the name of the person it was dedicated to.

you can only hope it doesn't become awkward after that, but right now, you feel as if you can't bottle up the feelings you've had for him anymore.

you wonder if it was because the thought of finally having a valentine after all these years was the reason for finally confessing. that is if the feelings were mutual of course. you can’t think anymore, 'let's deal with this tomorrow' you think.

-

on the other line, sero had plans of making a move on you. he couldn't imagine himself being with someone else, someone that isn't you. sure, he had written letters for his best bros, but he wanted to make yours more personal and intimate. from all his insecurties, you had made him feel like he was his own person by the time being spent with you.

thoughts were running through his mind, about how much he would love and cherish you if he were yours. god he was down bad.

by the time he had finished writing his letter, he started preparing the other gifts he had wanted to deliver to you. which was a box contained with your favourite snacks, products, and personalized items. he planned to give them after the event, hoping you would accept his confession.

-

hearts day arrived, the school was decorated in hearts and pink streamers. everyone was gathered in the classroom, the lights were all off, and the only light source that bounces off were from the windows. you were sat beside sero, and the rest of the group. all of the letters were given to mina, so she could arrange all and distribute them.

the time you receive your bunch had your chest burning in warmth, happy that these amount of people thought of writing you a letter. reading through each and one of them, sweet words after another. getting sentimental as each were written in their handwriting was the genuine thoughts they would want to speak through the piece of paper.

you can hear the commotion from the other groups, some had started crying from these heart-felt messages. earning you a small laugh as you get back to reading. reaching out to an envelope that had a nice shade of your favourite colour; to what you can only assume was perfume sprayed onto it, a scent that you like. you scan the name it was written from, eyes widening that it was from sero. can't be more obvious by a familiar tape keeping the envelope together. carefully opening it, unfolding the letter it contains.

-

"to my partner in crime,

hopefully, this letter doesn’t catch you off guard. i've been wanting to put my thoughts into words for a while now, and i'm honestly glad that the others had organized this, especially you since this activity was your own idea.

i've been thinking about how much you mean to me. looking back, i realize just how lucky i am to have met you. from all the laughs we’ve shared, hardships through training and from the battlefield, to the quiet moments when just being together was enough, I cherish every memory. you’ve been my constant, my comfort, and my favourite person.

i don’t think i’ve ever properly thanked you for all the times you were there for me. when things got rough, your support kept me going. when i was at my happiest, you were the first person i wanted to share it with. creating our own inside jokes, relaxing in each others dorms, and spending time outside of school. all of those, and you make it even better, just by being you.

and honestly? somewhere along the way, my feelings grew into something more. i tried to ignore it at first, the question "what if it's just infatuation" held me back. also worried about ruining what we have. but the more time I spend with you, the harder it becomes to keep this to myself. shit, even denki and kirishima know how down bad i got. called me out before i even realized my own feelings.

i’ve fallen for you. not just because of how amazing you are but because of how you make me feel seen, understood, and cared for. you make my days brighter, and I can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you might feel the same.

no matter what your answer is, I want you to know that our friendship means everything to me. I value it more than anything, and nothing could ever change that. I just couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. i have something else to give you after this, so let's stop by my dorm once it's over.

regardless, thank you for being such an important part of my life. With all my heart, hanta"

-

you can feel the heat rush through your heart upon finding out that your feelings were returned. you turned your head around to look at sero; seeing that he was already staring at you, holding your letter in hand. a sweet grin crosses his face, who could ever say no to that?

@iiapplemouse : do not copy/repost my work on other platforms !

[ciaran]

the language of addiction is a plague. im reading an article and whenever addiction language enters the picture it all becomes so sensationalized due to the cultural forces that accrue around the concept of addiction, always framing the addicted person as suffering from some flaw of personality that needs to be overcome by self-control. the fear of addiction, the fear of substances that affect the body & mind, changing the way that person responds in the presence of that substance - comes from a place of deep anxiety about lack of control but spirals into an obsession with the supposed purity of the body, where desire is inherently corrupting. which is why people steeped in this manner of thought will start saying things like "we're addicted to cooked food" or "you're addicted to your phone" or "you're addicted to porn" - it all comes from this terror that your behavior is influenced by desire when desire is fundamental to the way we interact the world. pathologizing want and desire makes people distrustful of others who are openly wanting - to want to change the way you are (which is, of course, construed as a natural, uninterrupted, pure state) is a crime. to want happiness through drugs, through food, through sex, through pleasure, is dangerous, so dangerous and unacceptable that anyone who feels too good and pursues feeling good becomes threatening to society, which is built on making people believe that having very little of anything, very little joy is alright because joy is bad for you. what a fucking con.

[pens-and-paperbacks]

"Vander and Silvo grew up like brothers! Them being together is weird!"

Ok, listen. You're valid, but listen. In the original universe we get, I completely agree. Vander nearly killing Silco and them fighting for dominance of Zaun is brother vs brother, power vs power activity. I don't think that universe went any further. There was no room for it to go beyond that betrayal and bitter feelings.

Within the Timebomb universe however I think they became something more after reconciling.

The letter was found, they talked it out, probably fought (which, head cannon, probably left Vander with a new scar somewhere we didn't see) but after that I think they saw each other in a new light. They were now on completely even footing, fighting for the exact same vision of Zaun in the exact same way, through peace vs violence because now they've seen what violence brings and they don't want that to happen ever again.

They don't want to lose each other again.

They only really had each other, Powder and Vi to take care of after losing their parents, which is what probably got them thinking about being together as a couple of they hadn't been thinking about it already.

I just can't read their reactions/looks in that universe in any other way. It's just too tender? I just look at them looking at each other and see, "unwavering devotion."

Two kings rule over Zaun in that universe and they're very happily married, despite everything that's happened. Because how could they not be after everything that's happened?

[jils-things]

i don't want to ruin this fun week of valentines + my eventual birthday but. been thinking about some things again and i just wanna let it out somewhere

[sysig]

Physical media is forever (Patreon)