#sorry its kinda short

[vampirevatican]

Hello dear mother i would like to request some judd birch x mute afab reader if that is acceptable please feed us we are starving for this man 🙃😊🥰

ask and you shall receive child

y'all's relationship is just the same as anyone elses

the only difference is how y'all communicate

hear me out, he's patient. for man to have trained a battalion of raccoons and even recognizing when he pushed them too hard? he's patient and kind.

im not sure on this but im thinking the way y'all communicate is either: yes or no's, sign language, facial expressions/body language, or the old fashioned writing it down on paper or board

maybe a combination of some of these

personal fave is a board, be it chalk or whiteboard because of how versatile and easy it can be

another idea is those button thingies. they're mainly in videos with pets, they're actually meant for ppl with disabilities, but that'd be kinda cute and easy too

imagine he got a fuck ton of those buttons with his own voice or got leah to speak for him?

if it's selective, or speech therapy(?), is involved i think he'd be in awe the first time he hears you utter anything

he'd probably make an effort to record it next time, if there is one, just to remember your voice

[bitchofsteel]

The threat of the sarcophagus was enough to pacify the mighty Beastess of Erogtraeth. For as much as her polluted nerves craved greater sensation ( thanks in no small part to a long dead apothecary), all that would end in the madness of an iron tomb. Never again would she feel anything other than simmering misery and the long sleep between it. The Loyalists were, of course, wrong. Dreadnoughthood wasn't a fucking honor. It was a godsdamned nightmare, and to Noosemen, an insult. The fluid used to preserve the unlucky pilot poisoned his flesh. There would be no eating the man imprisoned in an iron tomb, no way for his soul to live on in the Otherworld. Dreadnoughthood was a punishment. "Just get the fucking blade out before I pull it out myself!"

"Your people ruined me!" Freyja accused, pointing to incision scars along her right arm that could have only been the handiwork of a third legion Apothecary.

"Your underlings gave me this affliction and you will undo it!"

Her flesh was marred by hundreds of self afflicted scars, memories of lacerations and puncture wounds she'd wrought in an attempt to relieve her thirst for pain. Thousands of years ago, she'd been spared the shame of a dishonorable death.

This was the cost.

@bitchofsteel

It is rare to get an emotional response from the Chief Apothecary. He tends to be almost notoriously secretive and his will to deny Slaanesh even the slightest sacrifice in the form of feelings is ironclad. But this time he seems to allow himself an exception. A smile as if cut into his face with a scalpel shows amusement. He puts his fingertips together and rests his chin on them. "Do you know the old Terran tale of the people who wanted to eradicate a nick by cutting it away? That's the perfect analogy for your situation. Of course I can cut off your arm and replace it with a weapon of your - or better: my - choice. This is no more than a finger exercise. But what exactly is the point?"

[monkayy]

[python333]

your writing is literally the best in the cod fandom. we need more injured reader angst. it's too good

don't breathe — python333

— — — —

synopsis [reader] gets buried alive after refusing to give intel to enemy soldiers and *slips up and writes reader almost dying again* oops how did that happen haha

relationships platonic!price & gn!reader.

characters cap. john price.

word count 2.7k

warnings suffocation [reader], just generally really depressing thoughts, near death??, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note aww tysm :(( dont say its the best im gonna get a complex LMAO but i appreciate it!! and yes i agree injured reader angst ftw :3 i present to you: reader gets very injured and theres a lot of angst and its basically just you suffering for a good 3/4 of the fic while the last quarter has the actual comfort!

“Hello?” You try again, your voice cracking and your tone as desperate as it can get, “Please, God, say someone can hear me.” 

You’ve been trapped in a casket for about five minutes now—at least, you woke up five minutes ago. God knows how long you’ve been stuck in the stupid thing, but realistically, it’s probably been much longer than five minutes.

The last thing you remember from before you were buried is being in the interrogation room of some small terrorist group’s facility, one you and the others were led to believe was abandoned weeks ago. 

Unfortunately, whoever gave you the information must’ve either had incredibly outdated information or was setting you all up for failure, because the facility was very much not abandoned and was instead full of enemy soldiers.

You all had already gotten into the building before you knew that, because of course you all had to be in the same spot at the same time—practically sitting ducks for the enemy—and of course you all had to be clueless about the possibly hundreds of people in the facility until it was too late. 

As far as you know, everyone managed to escape. Everyone but you. They didn’t mean to leave you behind, of course they didn’t, they were more focused on just booking it out of the facility. However, because of that, you were now stuck—you assume—several feet underground in a casket that has a limited amount of oxygen that drops every time you take a breath. 

You let out the breath you’re currently holding and suck in another deep breath, holding it as you think. Your strategy of holding your breath until you no longer could mostly worked, but it wouldn’t for long, you knew that soon you’d suffocate in all of the carbon dioxide gathering in the enclosed casket.

You don’t know how long you’d been unconscious in the casket, breathing in oxygen carelessly in your slumber, which made the whole situation worse. You didn’t even know how much time you had left. 

You hate to waste your breath checking your comms, but the enemy soldiers had accidentally left your earpiece in your ear—the small device apparently going undetected under their radar—and you wanted to make the most of it. You move your arm from your side and press onto the PTT button on your earpiece, wincing a little at how cramped the casket was.

“Does anybody copy?” You ask again, staring up at the almost pitch black space above you, “I repeat, does anybody copy?” 

It’s a vain attempt at contacting your team, really. You don’t know if they’re thinking about you, if the signal is going through, if they even have their earpieces on—you know nothing, and that terrifies you because you really don’t want to die right now but there’s literally nothing else you can do besides helplessly talk into your earpiece, not knowing if anyone’s listening. 

Your lungs start to burn and you let out the breath you were holding, taking another deep breath and beginning to hold that one. The air feels… thick. It’s starting to get harder to breathe, and you know you shouldn’t panic but you can’t help the few worried thoughts that come to the forefront of your mind. 

What am I going to do when I run out of oxygen and the only thing left for me to breathe in are my own discarded breaths? What will I do when all there is to do is suffocate? Am I going to try, in one last desperate attempt, to break out of the casket, or am I going to just lay here and die? Will my team try to find me, or will they forget about me? Have they already forgotten about me? 

Before you can listen to any more of those depressing thoughts, a voice comes from your earpiece. 

“H—lo? [c/n]?” It’s hard to tell with the static and the cuts in between the words, but you think it’s Price talking. 

“Price?” You ask immediately, all thoughts of preserving your breath forgotten. “Holy shit, you can hear me?” 

“Je—s— whe—e—” He cuts out for a moment and your stomach drops when all you can hear is static for a moment. 

“You’re— You’re cutting out, Captain, what did you say?” 

“Wher— —re you?” It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying, your mind working much slower than it usually does, but once you do you shake your head negatively despite him not being there to see you. 

“I don’t— I don’t know,” You respond, taking a deep breath before adding on, “I think I’m underground, I just know I’m in a casket and it’s getting harder to breathe and—” 

“Okay, o—y,” You hear Price’s voice crackle, his voice becoming more distant and sounding almost muffled to you, “Sa— —ur bre—th, I’ll try to g—t some—e to track your— —tion.” 

With the constant cutting out of his words and the distortion of his tone, you can barely register or process what he’s saying, and that only panics you more but you refuse to let your emotions get the better of you even in the state of disorientation you’re in, so you keep holding your breath. 

A minute later, Price’s voice crackles through your earpiece again. 

“Okay, we’ve got your loc—tion,” Price’s voice sounds… oddly far away, “We can—” 

His voice slowly becomes muffled, and you release the breath you were holding without realizing it, slowly blinking up at the ceiling of the casket. A sort of haze falls over your mind and you can barely even hear Price anymore before you suddenly snap back to reality and hear his now much clearer voice loud in your ear. 

“[c/n]? [c/n], are you still there?” You recognize his tone now, and you’re just a little shocked at the sheer amount of worry in it. 

“Haven’t moved an inch,” You breathe out, before lying, “You cut out for a second for me, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay,” Price reassures you, “I said we got your loc—tion and we’re hea—g out th— —w. It’s not t— far away from where —e alre—dy are, we’re ba—ely three clicks away.” 

“… Clicks?” You ask, your eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Yes, clicks,” Price replies, sounding concerned, before hesitantly asking, “… You know what those are, right?” 

“I don’t—” You struggle to find words for a moment before you speak again, your own voice starting to sound distant, “I don’t think so?”

“What do y—u mean you don’t thi— —o?” Price asks, his voice sounding freakishly close, “Are you okay?” 

“No, yeah, I’m fine,” You lie through your teeth, not wanting to worry Price further, “I just… how far away are you?” 

“Just ab—t two cli—ks now,” Price says, before pausing and clarifying, “Two kilometers.” 

Two kilometers… how far is that? “And that’s… is that far, or?” 

“No, it’s not too far. It’s just a mi—te away, we didn’t ge— —o far before Laswell got your loc—tion,” Price tells you, “We’ll be there soon, ok—y? We’ll get y— —ut of there.” 

“A minute—” You cough and feel tears pricking at your eyes from how hard it is to take another breath, “A minute?” 

“Yes, a minute— [c/n], are you okay?” Price asks again, before laughing nervously, “You know what a minute is, do— —ou?” 

“...” You struggle to answer the question, thinking long and hard for a few seconds before hesitantly answering, “… Yeah, I do, sorry. It’s sixty seconds.” 

“Why’d it take you so long to answer?” 

“I don’t know, I’m sorry, I—” You take a few shallow breaths, and feel a headache start to build up, “How far away are you guys?” 

“We’re alm—t there,” Price promises you, “The heli’s ab—t to l—nd, and we’ll dig you up, and—” 

Why is it so cold? Price’s voice cuts off and when he stops talking you realize that you’re shivering. You ball your fists up and can’t even feel your nails digging into your palms, your hands having gone numb from the cold, and realizing that makes you discover that your lips feel numb too. 

Your ears start to ring and you feel that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling in your hands, the sensation slowly traveling up your arms, making you both wanting to peel off your own skin and also grateful that you can at least feel something besides the cold.

In the midst of your thinking, you hear muffled thumping coming from above you—whoever buried you couldn’t have buried you anything below six feet. 

“—llo? [c/n]? Are you still there?” 

You bring your hand up, the movement slow and sluggish, and you try to search around the side of your face for your earpiece. You eventually find it and when you do you press against it until you feel the PTT button being pushed. 

“Still here,” You confirm breathlessly, coughing again as you take a few more shallow breaths, “I think I’m running out of— of… what’s the fuckin’ air that you can breath in, it starts with an o…” 

“… Oxygen?”

“Oxygen, yeah,” You slowly blink up at the ceiling of the casket, “There’s— I think— I don’t… I think… I think I’m gonna pass out, Captain.” 

“[c/n], don’t you fucking dare,” Price growls, “You stay awake, I swear to fucking god.” 

“I can’t—” You take a few more shallow breaths, before coughing, the tears escaping your eyes reaching the corners of your mouth. 

You can hear Price briefly talk with someone else, his voice the most serious you’ve ever heard it, before he talks directly to you again, “How much longer do you think you have before you run out of oxygen?” 

It takes you a moment to register the question, but when you do, you answer, “Uh… I don’t— I think… maybe a few more minutes? I can’t tell, it’s just hard to breathe, I can’t…” 

“Okay, okay,” Price softly says, gusts of wind blowing into his mic as he talks, “Give me a second, okay? We’re almost there, kid, we’ll— we’ll be there in just a minute, we just passed over you, I just need you to stay awake.” 

“In a minute,” You repeat to yourself, before taking a deep breath, hoping that you have enough oxygen to make it out of this casket because you really don’t want to die here, not when there’s help just a minute away. 

After what you assume is a minute or two, instead of thumping, you hear something cut into the dirt above you. The sound, however, is heavily muffled, so muffled to the point where you don’t know if you’re hallucinating or not.

Is that a symptom of CO2 poisoning? Hallucinations? You lay still in the casket and can’t help but release the breath you’d only just taken, the ringing in your ears starting up again and growing louder faster than they had before. 

Your entire body is numb, your chest is heavy, and you can feel a sort of fog fall over your mind. You can distantly hear Price yelling through your earpiece, but you can’t find it in yourself to respond, instead simply laying there, your blinking starting to slow down before it eventually stops, leaving your eyes closed. 

— 

For a moment, you think you died and went to heaven, which would be weird, considering all the things you’ve done in your life. Not saying you’d go to hell, just saying God would probably hesitate for a second before letting you in through the pearly gates. 

You blink awake, slowly but surely, and the first thing you realize is that you can feel things again. You tilt your head down to the bump under the white bed sheets laid on top of you, and squeeze your hand into a ball, watching the bump move and feeling your fingers dig into your oddly sore palms.

You let out a sigh of relief and pull your hand out from the sheets, bringing it up to your face and feeling the oxygen mask that’s been placed over your mouth and nose.

“Don’t mess with that,” You hear a voice say to your right. You turn your head and see a very tired Captain Price, dark eyebags hanging under his eyes and arms crossed, his hands having a white knuckle grip on either one of his elbows. 

“…” You don’t say anything, instead you simply stare at him until he sighs and gets up from his seat. You watch silently as he leans over your bed and bends down, before pausing, and then quickly snaking his hands under your back to pull you up just enough for him to properly hug you. 

You reach up with shaky hands and tentatively hug him back, not nearly as tightly—not that you don’t want to, but you physically can’t with how weak your arms are right now—but with just as much sincere affection. You can feel Price’s beard rubbing against your neck and hear his small sniffles as he embraces you tightly. 

Maybe it’s his sniffling, or the way you can finally feel warmth for the first time in what feels like forever, or maybe it’s just the fact that he’s holding you with so much care and affection that it almost makes you burst at the seams, whatever it is, it causes you to tear up as well. 

Those tears quickly become sobs that bubble up in your throat and crawl their way out of it, forcing you to tuck your head into the crook of Price’s neck and muffle your sobs in it, muttering a small ‘sorry’ after each one. 

After each ‘sorry’, Price responds with, “It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart, you’re okay,” and those reassuring words only make you cry more because God, you didn’t even think he’d find you, yet here he is, letting you cry into his neck and is reassuring you after every apology that it’s okay. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” You mumble a litany of apologies into Price’s neck, your breath stuttering and hitching as you try to hold back your sobs. Price only shushes you and rubs his hand up and down your back in a comforting gesture, bringing his head up to kiss the top of your head. 

He tucks your head under his chin, “Don’t apologize, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

And fuck, you know it’s just words, but it only makes you cry more. 

Your sobs eventually stop, leaving you hiccuping against Price’s neck, silently crying as he continues to rub your back. 

“I thought you died,” He whispers, his hand stuttering on your back, “I thought you died and I was going to dig up your dead body, when you didn’t answer me.”

You stay silent, letting him continue, “I thought you were dead when we dug you up and needed to feel your heartbeat for myself to confirm that you were still alive.” 

He pauses for a moment before continuing, “I’ve been here ever since they put you in here. I haven’t slept, I’ve just stayed here, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you that I—”

He chokes up for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing, “I’m sorry for not even thinking to drag you out of the facility with me when we all ran out. You were— you were right there, and I couldn’t just grab your arm and take you with me, I just had to leave you behind and I—” 

“You watched me while I was asleep?” You ask quietly, your eyebrows drawing together. 

Price pauses and pulls his chin off of your head, and pulls you away from his neck so he can properly give you the most incredulous look he can pull, before saying, “I’m pouring my heart out to you and apologizing for practically leaving you for dead, and that’s what you’re worried about?” 

“Well, I’m not worried, I’m just—” You shrug, not knowing how to explain it. Price sighs and chuckles quietly before tucking your head back under his chin. 

“You’re insufferable,” He mumbles, sniffling a bit. 

“… I forgive you, by the way,” You say after a moment of silence, “I didn’t really blame you in the first place.” 

“You had the right to.” 

“Sure I did.” 

“But you didn’t blame me.”

“Right.” “…” Price stays silent for a moment before pressing another soft kiss to the top of your head and saying quietly, “You should blame me.” 

“Maybe,” You mumble back, “But I won’t.” 

Later, maybe an hour later, if the others see you asleep in Price’s arms while he keeps your head tucked under his chin and rubs your back affectionately—no they don’t.

[distorted59]

First of all, I love your works soooo much! And I love you too

Please I really want Kirk Headcanons. He’s the love of my life! I want to cuddle him and also something smut things too

thank you lovely!! I'm sorry for taking so long, i hope you enjoy!! <3

He’s really shy!! When you first met him, he was very nervous. Blushing and stumbling over his words. (You thought it was absolutely adorable of course!!!) When he first shook your hand, he felt electricity running through his body. After a while he fell right into your trap, he was hooked. Begging for more every day. 

He gets flustered a lot when he’s around you. He would mess up riffs during rehearsals or stumble over his words. One time he didn’t sleep very well, because he was overthinking all night. (May or may not have been horny all night) and he’d show up tired and sexually frustrated. You’d welcome him with open arms and took a nap together, when he woke up (hard) he got nervous. Your smell and arms around him drove him crazy. You noticed him stiffening once he woke up and quickly figured out what was happening. You’d start kissing his neck and rubbing him over his jeans. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

loves to eat pussy. Like he devours it. All of the boys would be into it but he’s addicted to it. Very good at it as well. He’d pull you to the edge of the bed so he could grind himself against the mattress while eating you out.

“Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” Kirk moans against your cunt. His hips are unrhythmic and desperately grinding against the bed. 

you moan and tug on his hair, keeping him in place right between your thighs. 

“Hmm!” you let out a squeal as he hits just the right spot. Kirk is humping against the bed like an animal. 

“gonna make me cum just like this, honey, fuck!” 

I feel like he gives the best hugs ever! Loves to cuddle and hold you close to him. 

80s Kirk is such a cutie, I just wanna hold him and kiss all his worries away. like, he’s such a geek with all his comics and action figures. Imagine going with him when he wants to buy new toys.

“Oh my god, babe!” Kirk whisper-yells at you and holds up a new issue of ‘Monster Magazine’. 

“Is that the new one, baby?” you smile at him, finding it overly adorable how excited he always gets.

"Yeah!" He looks at the back. “I’m gonna get this.” 

He smiles excitedly at you and kisses your cheek. You giggle and blush a bit, not expecting the kiss. 

“Can I read it after you’re done?” 

“Of course, baby!” Kirk grabs your hand. “We’ll read it together!”

Talking ab horror…. he would be into monster roleplay…. HE WOULD DONT DENY IT. Like him dressing up as dracula and you are the girl who got lost….. like!!!????? and he finds you and traps you and bites you and fucks the absolute life out of you. Thank you for listening. 

Also, the fact that in all those videos where he makes a joke and no one laughs??? c'mon now… baby is just trying to have some fun :(

his stutter is so cute!!! he still gets nervous sometimes and can’t look you in the eye or form a sentence. but you don’t mind. <3

I have been thinking about this a lot lately; giving Kirk head for the first time. him all whiny and excited, not knowing what to expect. 

“I’ll be gentle, okay?” You look up at him through your lashes. 

“Mhm.” He has his fingers over his mouth, unable to even speak. You stroke him lazily and smile at him. He throws his head back and lets out a huge moan when you lick the tip. 

“Ooh~, baby!” He whines. “ngh.. fuck!” his chest moves up and down and he tries to hold your hair back for you. 

you lick him from the base up and put him in your mouth. You’d think he’s seeing stars, cause he lets out the most heavenly moans you’ve ever heard. 

“feels so good, baby~”

yes, just a silly little thought.

the older he gets the rougher he gets, i feel. I mean, the fame and money definitely upped his confidence. which isn’t a bad thing AT ALL.

One of my favorite eras of him is htsd, his hair is starting to gray a little bit, and his skin has that old deep tan. the mustache, the goatee. yes just yes. 

I feel like he’s such a tease!!??  imagine going out for dinner with some friends, or the rest of the band. and he’s touching you all over. 

“Does my baby wanna feel good?” he slides his hand over your thigh. He’s been touching your thighs an kissing your neck all fucking night. 

“Kirk, please.” you whimper. “Not here, why here?” 

“Why here?” he smirks against your neck and moves up to whisper in your ear. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this as much as I do, princess.”

GIMME THAT I NEED IT NOW

He’s a really sweet boy, has a kind heart and actually looks too cute to be in a metal band. His voice is so sweet, his hands are very soft. (they become more and more calloused over the years). He would trace his fingers over your skin and whisper sweet things in your ears and place soft kisses on your neck. 

ALSO Kirk with eyeliner!???? just imagine you making him feel so good after a show or sum and he starts crying in pleasure and it just drips down his face!!???? His face is messy and his eyes are red with tears as he craves more and more of you.

actually need that rn

and going to the beach with him!! maybe he'll teach you how to surf or just chill with you enjoying some drinks in the shade and going for a casual swim. <3

[cable-salamdr]

“I want a kids cartoon with more diverse main character body types than just skinny teen” you guys couldn’t even handle Steven Universe

(Or Dead End Paranormal Park, or She-Ra)

[angelpuns]

Just another day wishing I didn't live with my parents but having to because I can barely take care of myself

[oceanwithouthermoon]

one of my favorite (/sarcastic but not really cuz its like funny idk) things in fandoms is when people make ocs or self inserts or 'x readers' being shipped with characters, but the oc/sona/reader is literally just another character from the source material.. its like youre shipping the characters but didnt want to admit it, so you made a kinsona and branded it as something else..

and its NEVER subtle, actually its super blatant every time and im always shocked when nobody points it out..

i have seen uncountable saiki k x readers where the description is like:

"saiki meets someone whose thoughts he cant read for the first time, and even though he doesnt trust her at first, she keeps proving that she is kind and has good intentions!" you mean nendo? reader is girl nendo?

"this time, he meets a girl whose thoughts honestly match up with her spoken words almost perfectly for the first time!" hairo. youre shipping saiki with girl hairo.

"saiki meets someone whose thoughts are too fast and jumbled to re-" ITS AKECHI, THATS AKECHI, ITS LITERALLY AKECHI.

"saiki meets someone whose just as immune to teruhashi as he is for the first and only tim-" this is hairo again, awe bae you secretly LOVE haisai ?!?

"saiki sees his old childhood friend for the first time in years after an incident caused them to be apart and then they fall in lov-" WHY DID YOU EVEN WRITE THIS AND NOT CALL IT SAIKECHI.

its even funnier when they say its like that characters little sister, but the way they write it is still literally just the character, like their personality, dialogue, even their relationship, is the same..

not all of them fit this exactly, but the ones that take a boy character and turn them into a girl oc to ship them with a boy, it reminds of how in equestria girls they couldnt make applejack and rarity endgame so they gave them boyfriends who looked IDENTICAL to each other.. thats what youre creating, guys, youre creating heterosexual rarijack.

[ganondoodle]

Kinda in regards to the Empress & BodyGuard 2-

Is Zaphira (sorry if I spelled her name wrong) an elf or do humans have pointed ears in your universe? If no elves, how do the pointed ears happen? Are there different length of ears and if so do they mean somethin?

Love your art & use of colours!

Thank you! and thank you for asking! (this sketch took me way too long .. and the colors still look washed out on my desktop screen but im not editing a third time ..)

Zaphira is human, there are no elves, as such, in this world, though humans tend to live longer than IRL and have differently shaped ears-

the shapes are rather diverse (example above) and culturally (so far) they have no significance, they are merely a trait just like different nose shapes or fantasy hair colors

the worldbuilding reason is that these are extremely diluted demonic influences- in the past demons were frequently in the human world, though largely in secret/disguised, and long time exposure to demonic presences can have varying effects, the most immediate and common being a longer life or wounds healing faster than normal; there might have been other long time effects but the only trait that stayed even after their disappearance is the ear shapes

(there was a mass extinction event of demons that wiped out all above a certain age, since demons generally dont die of natural causes their life neither depends nor revolves around reproduction so there were extremely few left and those were too young to keep most of their knowledge and culture alive, as they rarely wrote anything down; Shargon is of the current oldest generation and witnessed it happen, just like most now adult demons, Thor and Eadrya are both a bit older than him and thus the oldest living demons, which doesnt mean much considering the technically endless lifespans of them)

and to explain me including Shargon in a human appearance- hes the only demon that spends as much time in the human world as at home, largely to escape the others since they are not interested in going there and would otherwise attack him any chance they get (the human world is rather uncomfortable for demons to be in and they have better things to do than to chase him that far), while hes generally very weak compared to them, something he is very good at is shape shifting, mainly the speed of which, being able to shift between full demon and the smaller more humanoid form extremely quickly, or even mid forms that are a mix of both - even in motion! while for the others it takes them quite a bit and forces them to stop which is the main reason he keeps escaping them not able to keep up with his rapid shape shifting (though it does take its toll .. also a reason hes so skinny)

he is the first (only?) one that at some point will learn how to shift into a much more human looking one (depicted in the sketch) too, but its rather dangerous since it involves supressing and compressing his demon heart and system... which is what keeps demons alive (its somewhat like holding your breath for way too long) so the only time he would make use of it is in extreme situations, like avoiding detection by maschines that can pick up demonic energy or escaping shackles made of celestial silver (which drains their energy and can scar/hurt them permanently, like silver to vampires(?werewolfs?) in a way)

....the point is that if he shifts into a human form he has very long ears, meaning that is basically the extreme form that doesnt occur in humans and hints at the origins for those ear shapes being demonic exposure in the past

[brrrkdslek]

BLING BLING～

🂱 moments of ateez' 9th member, m/n, atinys specifically adore!

🂱 ateez x gn! 9th member! reader

🂱 wrote this at 1am LMFAOO

clip 1 ― m/n before stage!!!

"heyyy, i'm getting ready to go onstage~" you set your phone down and step backwards for a few steps before doing a little twirl in your black suit, as if it was a skirt. "what event are you doing?" you read out a question, "ah, i was actually picked to be a pianist for the orchestra. it's gonna be my turn soon so i need to practice the piece."

you pull out your laptop and began to play robeats on it, confusing the atinys. "yes, i am practicing right now." you turn your laptop to show them your screen, "it's flight of the bumblebee, so i'm technically practicing!" atinys booed in your comments as you bursh out laughing, "alright, fine! i'll be fine anyways!"

clip 2 ― san gets scolded by m/n noona

"okay so i am working on the designs for the new comeback and i'm so excited to show you guys soon!" you squealed in delight as san tried to open the plastic box, blinking at it when it didn't budge.

"also the colours are- san, move the drinks or you'll knock them down." he groaned while trying to pry the box open, almost pulling a muscle. "i'm hungry san, what's taking so long?" you rest your cheek on your hand as you scroll on your phone.

"san for the last time, move the drinks or they'll-" as if on cue, san successfully pries the box open. the consequence was that the dumplings inside flew out at how violently he pried it, along with the two cans of drinks that spilled on the ground, staining the carpet in the process.

you toss your phone onto the table and rubbed your temple in frustration. "hyung-" "come here." san immediately turn around and stuck his ass in your direction, the comments coming in twice as fast as it did. you smacked his ass harshly, "i told you to move the drinks, didn't i?"

"sorry..." he mumbled sadly, "i know, but now we'll starve until tomorrow afternoon." you laid back against the chair and cried internally, san sitting back down and leaning onto you your shoulder.

clip 3 ― burning hot noona

you washed the dishes with your phone propped above the sink, chatting with the atinys. "ah, yes. i did contribute in the costuming for guerrilla and halazia, it was really challenging as..."

atinys watched wooyoung walk into the kitchen and grab a coke from the fridge before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek, pulling away with a loud 'chuu'. atinys squealed at the adorable interaction in the comments.

"yah, i'm older than you woo." you smiled despite your playful tone, "aw, that's right. m/n noona!" the two giggled before wooyoung reached to wash his hands in the sink, screaming loudly when the water hit his hands.

"AHH, WHY IS IT SO HOT!?" wooyoung cried as he gripped and blew air onto his reddening hand. jongho could be heard snickering in the background, "don't you know our noona uses boiling hot water to wash dishes?" you frowned, "yeah, cause it washes the oil off easily."

you turn the water off and grab a few ice cubes from the freezer, placing them into wooyoung's hands and kissing his cheek. "aww, sorry jagi..." he licked your cheek before dashing into the living room , "YAH JUNG WOOYOUNG!"

clip 4 ― message to my lovely members! &lt;3

you sat idly in the hotel room as you watched the number of viewers rise up, recognising seonghwa's disguise account. a notification popped up as you read it, 'minki pinki: we are watching ur live from hyung's phone, miss u!'

you smiled, "hey, my atinys! did you guys miss me? i missed you so much!" you hug your plush tightly against your chest as you read all the nice and loving comments from your fans.

"i also hope my members are doing fine without me!" you fixed some things on your desk before reading out some comments, "you must be worried since you're the big sister of the group," you giggled, "when will you guys stop making me the big sister? at least, make me a man again!"

"well, i think i am worried. i mean i miss them so much, and i hate to admit but it's really lonely without them here. yeah, filming is fun and all but it'd be way more fun if i had my members with me right now."

"also, i left some homemade slushies in the fridge for my dear members! please have some, i know you guys are working hard!" a notification sounds from your phone, 'staff: scene 29 in three hours so you should get ready.' you sighed, "well, i gotta go now. love you!"

©BRRRKDSLEK 2023

[silverislander]

day 22: bridge

"come on."

"i am not doing that."

"caitlyn, just trust me."

"i do. i'm still not- i won't be putting that in my mouth."

"you put worse in your mouth last night when i-"

caitlyn smacks her girlfriend's shoulder and vi breaks into laughter.

"i'm serious, cait," she pleads, still grinning like she's not. "just give it a shot. if you don't like it, i'll eat the rest! it won't go to waste!"

"i'm not worried about it going to waste, vi, i'm worried about-" she lowers her voice, looking to the nearby workers, who are starting to stare. "about food poisoning, or getting some sort of disease."

vi sighs just a little too loudly, swirling the- stew? sauce?- around in her bowl. "can't believe our own sheriff would say such a horrible thing-"

"oh, come off it."

"about zaunite cuisine, really just so-"

"vi, stop."

"rude of her-"

"alright!" caitlyn relents. "alright, i'll try it."

vi's making a face like a puppy who's overheard the word "treat". "really?"

"yes. fine. just- give it here."

vi passes the bowl over. caitlyn's not particularly squeamish, but- well, she's always been of the opinion that her food should never move of its own accord, and the chunks of meat definitely seem a little too... squirmy.

as it stood, though, there was no other option, and so she turns to another longstanding principle: her father had once taught her that if one has to eat a live frog, one should do it first thing in the morning, because nothing worse could possibly happen to them for the rest of the day. it's important to her as both the sheriff and as vi's girlfriend that she experience zaunite culture, and food is part of culture, and so therefore, this is a necessary step.

before she can think more about it, caitlyn stabs her fork- her one demand was that she not eat with her hands- into one of the tentacles, takes the largest bite she can and looks intently away from the bowl as she chews. as she does, vi cheers and raises her glass of water, laughing harder.

"and? what do you think?" she prods.

it's sweet and only a tiny bit salty. not rubbery at all, actually. the sauce is a little bit spicy, not even approaching the limit of what caitlyn could handle.

"it's... good," she allows.

"told you."

"oh, shut up."

[luminique]

Imagine lighter with a s/o who has a rbf (looks pissed off 24/7) but in reality they're actually really conscious about it and tries to look more "appealing" as they would think. And like almost after everytime they would talk to another person they'd be like "I'm sorry if I was so awkward" cause they're just THAT conscious of themselves😭

literally the combo of the century with lighter i fear. lighter and his attempts to be mysterious with rbf s/o who probably seems intimidating but is very much not.

i definitely think with how lighter tends to be behind everyone, watching from afar, he would be able to notice the little changes his s/o makes. the way their shoulder tenses up, the awkward smile and forced laughter to not seem too mean. he knows (and like everyone else who has interacted with them) that s/o is genuinely a nice person but is misjudged just because of their face.

i also imagine that he wouldn’t try to actively change s/o unless they told him otherwise. also because he loves his s/o no matter what and if other people aren’t willing to look past their facial expression to see that they’re so much more, then wouldn’t that be better for him? spreading my lighter does get a little jealous/possessive thoughts mhm

[tired-space-politician]

"We can keep your ship just fine and safe and functional and powered and being tugged by my fleet. But we do need to get you healed." Roboute soothed but kept his voice firm. He would brook no argument about repairing whatever injuries Aurelius may have.

Turning to glare at the cogitator, his armour did the rest while he tried to figure out The Wall Of Evident Agony. How much in the way of limbs did Aurelius have left? What had to be cut out? What could be rescued? Was this connected to his nervous system? His armour beeped at him. "Aurelius, I can have you released the moment you want me to. My armour has overridden the cogitator. Just tell me if I need to run you immediately to the ICU to keep you alive."

" Brother. It hurts. "

// @forgottnseccnd i hand you... a stuck-on-the-wall-as-a-battery aurelius in the 40th/41st/42nd/42whatever millennium, only if you desire and are comfy with feels!! only if you want!!! :0

Roboute had been stumbling in the dark, lost, drawn to this light that reflected down so many corridors. The horror before him defied mortal comprehension. "Oh.. oh Aurelius... I'll get you out! As quickly as I can! Cawl scan him please! Detailed as you can!" Panic set in.

The life support armour let out it's sensory mechadendrites to scan the entrapped Primarch, to very carefully try and find some access port or hidden console that bound this mesh of wires, cable and flesh together.

Roboute tried to keep his breathing steady as he tugged one of his many spare cannisters of pain suppressant out from a hidden compartment. "Au-Aur-Aurelius c-can you swallow? Otherwise I will have to hurt you a little bit to make the pain go away for a few hours." Roboute thanked Cawl's unending insight for inventing a fluid delivery system that did not require one big needle, but instead many fine little ones. The part that would hurt would be the swelling beneath the skin, the blob of delivered liquid, not the injection itself.

Breathe Roboute, breathe, your brother needs you. You can be traumatised about this later.

[jestroer]

One of my favourite fun things to do related to Hermitcraft fandom is going around on AO3 playing with filters to find the weirdest most uncommon rarepairs out there. Or just finding them in the wild.

If you could think about one, there is a real chance there are at least like 2 fics of any random ship you can think about. And i think this is beautiful.

Like, idk who thought first about like Jevin/Bdubs(Jdubs?) or Cub/Mumbo (...cumbo) but i love that they did, that's what fandom is all about

[star2stop]

...okay uh. i might have taken a bit TOO much creative liberty with this one-

| the before. | 20XX | handsome devil ph | fine, i'm fine | you sound like louis burdett | chonny jash ph | count eleven |

[turtleplushi]

Peck!

Based off of this sticker from the game :)