#there be danger in learning how to BUILD them...

[s0fter-sin]

ex military ghost seeing gym rat soap flex in the gym mirrors and being concerned by how visually dehydrated and unhealthily cut he is

(cw disordered working out and implied unspecified ed)

ghost whose body is soft with fat, covering a soldier's build; he's stronger than every man in this gym and none of them would know. the culture’s shifted away from working muscle and strength, from health, and he’s known that for a while. but something about this one, the almost desperation he sweats with as he crosses pb after pb, holds his attention

he changes his workout hours to line up with his, changes his circuits until they’re on the same row of machines and uses the shared interest in weight training to introduce himself. he almost cringes as he does it but soap doesn’t hit him with the typical bro energy he’s gotten used to in gyms; he meets him with a smile, doesn’t try to crush his hand as he shakes it, even offers a spare hand towel to wipe himself off with

he’s nice, truly and genuinely nice and ghost hates that he’s gotten caught up in the swell of toxic self-hatred sweeping through his generation

he offers to be soap's spotter, getting him settled under the bar and though he gives him an odd look for it, follows his nudges to get his shoulders in a better position. he does the same to his wrists and elbows - it’s like he was never taught how to lift, just watched similarly untrained men and tried to emulate their movements - and sees how much he's lifting as he stands ready to catch the bar

all he can think of is how much more he could be doing if he just took care of his body instead of starving it

his body’s screaming for it; for fats and full sugars and salts and carbs, no matter how many supplement drinks he slings back throughout his set, and when he invites him out later, his near-empty plate stands out starkly next to ghost’s full one

as they get closer, he sees the "trainers" soap idolises; the sets it’s clear they don’t follow and the regimes based on nothing at best and damaging pseudoscience at worst. he sees the starved bodies and the borderline dangerous ways they lift and move because they never bothered to learn how; they just wanted the results

at any cost

every single one of them promoting unhealthy behaviour and so obviously taking steroids besides, no matter how much they deny it. but no matter how much ghost tries to point it out, tries to clear the wool from his eyes, soap just doesn't believe him

(can’t believe him. he can’t believe that he can't achieve it, that he can't just do more, be better; it has to be his fault he doesn't look like them no matter how hard he tries)

just ghost trying to lead soap back to a healthy mindset when it comes to body image and working out and getting him to realise he’s unthinkingly using it as a way to hurt himself instead of feeling good in himself the way he used to

[dakusan]

📁 ASK D U M P 𓆩🩸𓆪 20 JUNE 2025

💉 TODAY'S ASK DUMP IS IN SESSION.

You sent offerings. I licked the envelope. Now your secrets live in my bloodstream.

Today’s spread is a banquet of biting, brat taming, creative meltdowns, psychic blood girls, cult curiosities, and vamps who do not play when you get grazed by another. Some of you want fluff. Some of you want fangs. Some of you want to be rearranged like furniture.

Either way, you’re getting fed. So kneel. Let’s begin.

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🌹💚 ANONS LOGGED: “does your vampire universe come with bonus ghosts or should we bring our own?”

To 💚anon and 🌹anon (because you asked similarly the same question so i decided to answer in one ask)—welcome, welcome, you’ve come to the right place. Let’s open the floorboards, sharpen the ritual knives, and talk about the supernatural landscape of the vampire!SKZ universe.

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🕯️DO OTHER BEINGS EXIST IN THIS UNIVERSE?

YES. YES. GOD, YES. The vampire world is just the beginning. This universe is bigger, older, and infinitely stranger than anyone knows. You’ve got:

Witches (of course): not wand-waving Disney types—real, bone-deep witches who specialize in blood contracts, dream walking, resurrection spells, scent-binding, and veilcraft. Some are born, some are made. Most keep to hidden covens or disguise themselves in plain sight.

Shifters: Wolves, crows, serpents, and others bound to ancient pacts. Most are wildborn, tethered to territory and nature. Some work alongside vampire houses. Some are hunted.

Fae: Rare. Terrifying. Beautiful in that you’ll-never-leave-the-woods-again kind of way. Vampires don’t trust them. Fae magic doesn’t follow vampire laws—it rewrites them.

Oracles: Human-born, often unstable, marked by prophecy and plagued by visions. Vampires call them “Thread-Touched.” Their blood is dangerous—sometimes fatal, sometimes divine.

Demons: Not horns and hellfire—think contracts, echoes, bargains. Most live between realms. Some possess. Some inhabit. They know the old vampire families by name.

Ghosts, revenants, and dream-stalkers: The veil between life and death? Thin. And the vampire world is constantly poking it.

👁️WHAT IF THE BLOOD DOLL IS "IN TUNE"?

Oh baby. If the blood doll is an empath… or worse, a sleeper oracle? Someone who dreams of shadows that aren’t glamour-induced, sees things no one else sees, draws sigils and faces from another plane??

The boys lose their goddamn minds.

🩸HOW VAMPIRE!SKZ REACT:

Bang Chan He knows you're not normal. He saw it in your scent the first time. When you whisper a warning that turns out to be true—when you draw a sigil you’ve never learned—he gets quiet. He locks your blood samples in a vault. Has the coven run tests. Has Nocte Labs flag your name in red. And when you say “something’s coming”? He believes you. He prepares for war.

Minho He watches. Doesn't speak on it. But every time you start muttering about shadows at 3am, he sets salt around the bed. One night you wake up sobbing from a dream and find a knife under your pillow. He won’t explain it. He just says:

“Next time, stab first.”

Changbin Immediately starts cataloguing your symptoms like a case study—until he realizes your “delusions” are predictions. He starts dreaming when he drinks from you. Nightmares. You see them too. He won’t say it, but he’s scared. And in awe. And so, so protective now.

Hyunjin You're haunted. He knows. So is he. He draws the things you mutter in your sleep. Sketches them into whole murals. Sometimes your hands move at the same time. Sometimes your eyes go blank and he whispers, “tell me what you see.”

Jisung He jokes at first. “My baby’s got a ghost friend.” But when the glamours stop working on you he goes silent. He builds you a dreamcatcher from obsidian and bone. You hang it. The dreams get louder.

Felix Felix has seen these beings before. The shadows in your dreams? He met them. He ran from them. When you speak their names in your sleep, he clutches your wrist and says, “Don’t say it again. Even here.”

Seungmin He reads every book on empathic blood types, oracular trauma, and veil disturbances. He logs your episodes. He treats you like a rare artefact… but never lets you feel like a freak.

“If something’s coming, I’d rather face it next to you than blind.”

Jeongin You scare him at first. Not because he thinks you’re evil—because you feel like a mirror. You whisper things he’s never told anyone. You write things he hasn’t lived yet. And he tells you, gently: “I think we’re the same kind of wrong.”

⸺⟡⸺

💚🌹Anons—you opened the gates. Will I do a deep dive into these mythical beings? Who knows. Not any time soon that's for sure.

Thank you for the ask lovelies. stay hydrated in this heat 💋🦇

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🌀 COLLIN-THEGREAT LOGGED: “what if I topped a vampire but he was actually just letting me think I topped a vampire?”

OKAY COLLIN-THEGREAT—first of all?? You had me at “unstable human who loves a little mind fuck” because THAT IS THE ENERGY WE RUN ON HERE. 🩸💦🧠 Second of all?? YOU WANT DOMMIE BLOOD DOLL Y/N??? You want to flip the script on the apex predators??? You want to tug a vampire’s leash and see who moans first???

LET’S GO.

⚠️ warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI, smut, dom/sub dynamics, mild bondage, primal themes, blood kink (vampire lore), possessiveness. all consensual. all feral.

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💋WHAT HAPPENS WHEN Y/N TRIES TO TAKE CONTROL DURING SEX (vampire!SKZ edition)

🩸 Bang Chan

You straddle him. You lean in close. You whisper, “Tonight, I’m calling the shots.”

He smiles. Slow. Lazy. Deadly. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s see how long you last.”

Let you think you’re in control for five minutes flat. He’s watching. Studying. You tie his wrists? He’ll stay still—until you slip. He’ll grind up into you just once, and suddenly your rhythm’s his, your orgasm’s right there, and his voice is in your ear saying: “Control isn’t about who’s on top. It’s about who breaks first. Wanna try again?”

Subby? Never. Let you pretend? Oh, absolutely. Secretly obsessed with your dominance streak? Completely. Will use it to destroy you later? 100%.

🩸 Lee Minho

You pull him by the collar of his shirt. You try to pin his wrists. You want to see the predator submit.

He laughs.

“Darling. You want to top a vampire built to break bones?”

But when you command him? When you look him dead in the eyes and say, “On your knees”—he goes still. He kneels. Slowly. But not because he’s yours.

Because he wants to see what kind of god you think you are. And then he'll worship you. Worship you wrong.

“I’ll obey. But don’t beg for mercy when you forget who you’re riding.”

🩸 Seo Changbin

You tell him you’re setting the pace tonight.

He leans back. Smirks. Spreads his thighs. “Go on then. Do your worst.”

He lives for it. You being greedy? Desperate? Riding his cock? Grinding over his abs with your hands on his chest?? YES.

He won’t stop you. But he will tease you relentlessly.

“This what you wanted, baby? You look so cute when you’re trying to be in charge.” “You wanna use me? Go ahead. Just remember who’s gonna flip you over when you’re done.”

A+ for enthusiastic consent and ruinous comebacks.

🩸 Hwang Hyunjin

You tie him down. Tell him not to move. Not to bite. Not to speak.

He moans.

He wants to be wrecked. He wants to be worshipped. He wants to look up at you, flushed and trembling, saying “Is this what you wanted?” But make no mistake—if you falter even once, he’ll snap the restraints with his teeth and flip you so fast your lungs forget how to work.

“You wanted a pet, didn’t you?… But pets bite, darling.”

🩸 Han Jisung

He’s SO INTO IT. He’ll let you sit on his face. He’ll moan under you. He’ll beg to taste you. To fuck you.

But the second you think you’re fully in control? He flips you with a laugh and pins you to the mattress like a fucking wrestler.

“You were doing so good, baby. But now it’s my turn.”

🩸 Lee Felix

You straddle him. Tell him to lie still. Keep his hands off. You trail your fingers over his chest and whisper, “You're mine tonight.”

And he just smiles. Bright. Sweet. Like he’s never done anything wrong in his life.

“Okay, baby. Tell me what to do.”

But something in his voice clicks. Something in his eyes says, this is a trap. He lets you use him—grind on him, ride him, take what you need—and he moans like he’s thankful for it.

But when you come undone? When your pace falters, when your thighs shake, when your breath catches? His hands suddenly grip your hips. Hard. And he whispers against your throat: “My turn.”

🩸 Kim Seungmin

He lets you think you’ve won. You’re grinding on him. Whimpering in his lap. Telling him to shut up and be good.

He’s quiet. Watching. And then he says, low and deadly: “You think I’m obedient just because I don’t speak?”

He’ll give you exactly what you want—until it’s no longer what you need. Then it’s over. He’ll flip the script, flip you, and you’ll be begging him to finish what you started.

Seungmin is dangerous when provoked. Loves the illusion of surrender.

🩸 Yang Jeongin

At first, he blushes when you take control. He lets you pin him. Lets you ride. Lets you whisper filth in his ear.

But the second he catches the scent of your slick and your heartbeat stutters—Something in him breaks open. His eyes go sharp. His smile goes slow. Too slow. You see the fangs—just barely peeking. And then he tilts his head and says: “You wanna be in charge?… Then take it, baby. Before I do.”

It is at that moment, you realize you’ve awakened something, and it’s not stopping. He doesn’t flip you. He lets you stay on top—lets you think it’s still yours—while he drags moans from your chest and wrecks you from underneath with lethal sweetness.

“Told you I could be good... But it’s so much more fun when I’m not.”

⸺⟡⸺

YOU’RE WELCOME. STAY HORNY. STAY DELIRIOUS. AND NEVER TRUST A SUBMISSIVE VAMPIRE. 🥀

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🍓 ANON LOGGED: “currently one intrusive thought away from sobbing… can Chan hug me and tsundere Lino call me annoying in a loving way?”

AWW ANON 😭💖 come here. First of all: YOU’RE SO LOVED. Second: I am absolutely giving you both soft Chan and tsundere Minho. You deserve fluff so powerful it wraps around your anxiety like a blanket fresh out the dryer.

⸺⟡⸺

Bang Chan

You’re overwhelmed. Your chest feels too tight. The world’s too loud. Everything’s shaking—maybe even your hands.

And then he finds you. Doesn’t say anything at first. Just drops to his knees in front of you. Takes your hands in his, thumbs brushing the inside of your wrists, grounding you.

“Hey, hey… I got you. You’re okay. Just breathe, alright?”

He pulls you into his lap. Wraps his arms around your back. Rocks you—slow and steady, like you’re the only rhythm he knows. His hoodie smells like vanilla and something warm, and his heartbeat is so steady it calms your own.

“It's okay. I am here. I'm staying. Let me hold you, take it all out. I'll listen.”

When you finally look up, there are no questions in his eyes. Just that soft, half-smile—the one he saves for when he’s proud of you. And he presses a kiss to your forehead like he’s sealing you back together.

Lee Minho

You try to hide how bad it is. Of course you do. Minho notices immediately.

“Why are you making that face?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s what people say when they’re definitely not.”

You try to laugh it off. He glares at you. Mutters something under his breath. Storms out of the room.

You think you scared him off.

Then he comes back.

With your favourite snack. Your cosiest blanket. A little heat pack that smells faintly of lavender. And he throws it all down next to you on the bed like he’s annoyed with it—then sighs and sits beside you, cross-legged and arms folded.

“I’m not good at this, okay?”

“But you don’t have to act happy around me. Just be you. Even if you’re sad. I’ll deal with it.”

His hand finds yours and he squeezes gently. You lean on his shoulder. He doesn't move. Doesn’t flinch. Just sits there quietly, letting you cry if you need to, while the show in the background on the tv plays and the soft glow of the screen washes over both of you.

⸺⟡⸺

🥹 I hope this helps even a little bit. 💌 Sending you soft hoodie hugs and forehead kisses

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🐈 ANON LOGGED: “what if someone even thinks about touching her—do they die fast or slow?”

OH 🐈ANON. YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN SOME mortal fool lays even a finger on the blood doll that belongs to the most dangerous vampire syndicate alive? You want to know what happens when someone thinks they can just graze her wrist or breathe too close like she isn’t marked, claimed, and watched from every shadow?

OH, BABY. Let me show you what unholy wrath looks like.

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🩸 WHAT VAMPIRE!SKZ DO WHEN SOMEONE CROSSES THE LINE WITH HER (even a little)

Bang Chan The second it happens—before you even flinch—Chan has already seen it. He doesn't raise his voice. Doesn't even move fast. He just walks over calmly and says: “You touched what’s mine.”

And then it’s over.

The offender doesn’t even scream—Chan has them on the ground, one hand around their throat, other hand drenched in blood. When he looks up at you after?

“You okay, sweetheart?” “...No one touches you but me. Ever.”

He’ll carry you home. Soothe your nerves. And the next morning, that person’s name is wiped off every database like they never existed.

Lee Minho He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t speak. He simply walks over—slow, graceful, terrifying.

And with a soft, elegant voice: “Did you mean to do that? Or should I remove your hands just in case?”

You blink. And suddenly the person’s arm is dislocated, shattered from the inside. He brushes your shoulder off with his fingers like the touch contaminated you.

Then he leans in close to you and whispers: “I’d never let anyone defile you. You’re sacred to me.”

Seo Changbin He’s already halfway to feral. The second someone touches you? He’s between you and them with a low growl in his chest.

“Move. Move right now before I tear you open and we find out how long it takes your organs to shut down.”

He grabs your hand, checks your pulse, kisses your wrist gently to soothe the adrenaline and then turns back around with murder in his eyes.

“You ever even look at her again, you won't live to see the next sunrise.”

Hwang Hyunjin At first, he looks heartbroken. Shocked. Eyes wide. Staring at your arm like it’s bruised even though it’s not.

Then?

He loses it. He’s laughing while dragging the offender to their knees. His voice is shaking—from rage, not fear.

“You touched a masterpiece with dirty hands. How do you plan to pay for that, huh?”

He makes them apologize. Not to him—to you. And only after you nod does he finally let go. Still twitching. Still high on fury.

Then turns to you like nothing happened and whispers: “You’re okay now, angel. I’ve got you.”

Han Jisung No one even sees him move. One second he’s joking by the bar, the next he’s got a blade to someone’s gut, smiling like a lunatic.

“Oh my godddd, you actually touched her? Do you want your fingers back, or should I gift wrap them?”

He’s laughing. You’re shaking. He shoves the offender back and wipes your skin clean with a silk handkerchief, mumbling: “So fucking lucky I don’t blackmail your entire bloodline.”

Later, when you’re curled up next to him, he still can’t let it go. “You smell like them. Hate it. Let me fix it.” And he does. With his mouth. With his hands. With vengeance.

Lee Felix Oh. Oh, no. See, Felix doesn’t rage. He darkens. He gets quiet. Still. Voice low enough to make your spine shiver.

“She’s not for touching.”

And then? He grabs the offender by the face—gently—and drives them into the wall. He doesn't even bite them until after the screaming starts.

When he turns back, he’s smiling like he didn’t just crack someone’s skull or bleed them dry.

“You okay, love? Want me to carry you out of here?”

His hands shake later. Not from fear—from how close he was to going too far. He presses his forehead to yours and whispers: “They won’t ever try again.”

Kim Seungmin He doesn’t get violent—he gets lethal. He walks up to the offender, smiles politely, and says: “You have five seconds to apologize. And then you’re going to walk out that door. If you don’t?… Well. Let’s just say I’ve already texted someone who’d enjoy what happens next.”

He’s not bluffing. You feel his hand on your lower back, guiding you gently behind him. His whole body is taut with controlled rage.

Later, he looks at you and murmurs: “You don’t need to be scared. Not when I’m here.”

And you believe him. Yang Jeongin He didn’t mean to go feral. He didn’t even know it would happen. But when someone brushed your wrist—just once—his vision went red. Suddenly the offender’s pinned against a wall, and Jeongin is growling like something ancient took over. “You don’t touch her. You don’t even look at her.” He doesn’t hear you calling his name until you touch his shoulder. He blinks. Comes back to himself. Sees you. “...Did they hurt you?” “No?” “Good. Because I was about to make them disappear.”

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🐈 anon — thank you for this DELICIOUS ask. You always come crawling out of the shadows with exactly the kind of feral brainrot I crave. Never stop. Inbox is always open for you 🦇💋

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© ANON LOGGED: “reader in their hoodie vs. reader taking a hit for them—who do you think makes them go more feral?”

LET’S GO, © ANON!! You're asking for maximum emotional damage and soft vampire chaos in one ask??? BRILLIANT. ✨🩸

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🩸 HOW VAMPIRE!SKZ REACT TO:

YOU TAKING A HIT FOR THEM

&

YOU WEARING THEIR FAVORITE HOODIE

Bang Chan

You take a hit for him: He snaps. Instant blood rage. You go down and the world tilts. He doesn’t stop until every threat is ash and silver. When he finally turns to you, hands shaking, voice raw—

“Why the hell would you do that?” “You’re not supposed to bleed for me. That’s my job.”

Carries you home. Cleans your wounds himself. Sleeps on the floor by your bed just in case.

You wear his hoodie: GONE. It’s over for him. You’re walking around the house in his faded hoodie, sleeves too long, scent clinging to you?

“You’re trying to kill me, huh?” “You’re lucky I like the view.”

Pulls you into his lap and buries his nose in your neck like it’s his last inhale.

Lee Minho

You take a hit for him: He doesn’t react at first. Too stunned. Then? The silence breaks.

“You idiot.” “You absolute reckless, infuriating—beautiful idiot.”

He presses a kiss to your temple while stitching you up, jaw clenched so hard it aches. The next person who even thinks of hurting you will never be found.

You wear his hoodie: He pretends not to care. “Tch. Looks better on me.” But when you curl up next to him in it and fall asleep? He tugs the hood up over your head gently and whispers, “You can keep it.” You hear the softest “mine” as he wraps an arm around your waist.

Seo Changbin

You take a hit for him: Immediate panic. His whole world narrows to you. He’s already applying pressure to the wound while growling through fangs.

“No no no—don’t you ever do that again. You hear me?” “I’d burn the world for you, don’t you dare take that from me.”

He won’t stop checking on you every five minutes for a week.

You wear his hoodie: He just STARES. Brain static. Bloodlust and heart-eyes. “You wearing that to tease me, or am I supposed to believe you just happened to pick that hoodie?” Traps you against the wall in it. Kisses you like it’s a thank-you and a threat.

Hwang Hyunjin

You take a hit for him: He screams. Not because you’re bleeding—but because he knows that was meant for him. Falls to his knees beside you, whispering your name like a prayer, like a curse.

“I’d rather die than watch you hurt for me.”

Later, he paints your hand wrapped in gauze. Keeps the image framed in his studio. Never forgets it.

You wear his hoodie: He stares. Eyes wide. Breath caught. “You… you look like a dream.” Walks up slowly. Runs a hand through your hair. Then kisses you like he’s been waiting centuries just to see you that soft.

Han Jisung

You take a hit for him: Breaks on the spot. Like actual tears. Tries to laugh it off—“That was dramatic of you, babe…”—but he’s shaking.

“Don’t ever do that again. Promise me. Please. I’d never recover.”

Sleeps curled around you for nights after. Doesn't say anything—just listens to your heartbeat like it's proof you're still here.

You wear his hoodie: He melts. Literally collapses on the floor like you just shot him. “You have ten seconds to take that off or I’m going to do things to you. Violently. Affectionately.” Takes a thousand photos of you in it. His lockscreen? Yeah, it's you in the hoodie, biting your lip and laughing.

Lee Felix

You take a hit for him: He goes silent. Dead silent. Eyes pitch black. Expression unreadable. And then he absolutely destroys whoever laid a hand on you. Later? He curls around you on the couch, cheek against your thigh, whispering—

“You’re everything to me. You don’t get to risk that.”

You find out later he tore through half the underground that night. Silently. Efficiently. For you.

You wear his hoodie: He just stares. Whispers, “You’re so fucking cute… I can’t take it.” Wraps his arms around you from behind and tugs the hood over your head. Sinks his fangs into your neck slowly, like he’s claiming the whole moment.

Kim Seungmin

You take a hit for him: He gets dangerously quiet. Blood on your skin = red in his vision. Doesn't even stop to threaten anyone—just eliminates the threat and rushes to you.

“You stupid, reckless angel. You didn’t need to do that.”

He patches you up. Kisses your hand. Spends hours researching how to prevent it from ever happening again.

You wear his hoodie: He lifts an eyebrow. “Is that my limited edition hoodie you just stole?” You shrug. He sighs—then presses a kiss to your forehead and lets it go. Until the next morning, when he’s wrapped you in three more hoodies because: “You get cold. Don’t argue.”

Yang Jeongin

You take a hit for him: SNAPS. He didn’t know he could go that feral that fast. The scream you let out? The sound of your pain? It broke something inside him. “No one touches you. Not even for me.” Afterwards, he holds you for hours. Refuses to let go. Cries into your shoulder.

You wear his hoodie: His heart literally stops. “You’re wearing that in front of me? With those eyes? On purpose???” He pulls the hood up himself. Tugs you into his lap. Whispers against your neck, “You’re mine. Hoodie and all.”

⸺⟡⸺

✨ © Anon, you asked for feelings and vampires and you got a whole damn emotional buffet. Thank you for feeding the inbox and always bringing great brainrot 🦇💋

⚠️ warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI, explicit sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, brat-taming, bloodplay, vampire rituals, rough sex, threesome (Minho x reader x Jisung), fangs, possessiveness, overstimulation, and mind-melting praise/degradation. viewer discretion is deliciously advised.

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🐹 ANON LOGGED: “my freak brain said ‘minsung threesome with a brat’ and i haven’t known peace since.” 🐹 ANON LOGGED (pt. 2): “what if i scratched him too hard and he liked it. what if i drew blood. what if i…”

YES YES YESSSSS 🐹 ANON IS OFFICIALLY LOCKED IN. Welcome to the rodent of desire cult—may your freak brain never be silenced and your aftercare always include my filth 💋💉

Let’s break this into your two glorious asks:

⸺⟡⸺

1. 🐹 MINSUNG THREESOME WITH A BRAT!READER??

Minho – Your Boyfriend, Your Soft-Ruiner

He’s been thinking about it. Not because he isn’t satisfied—but because you’re such a mouthy little brat and he knows exactly who could help him shut you up.

He brings it up casually: “What would you do if I invited Jisung over next time you act out?”

And you laugh. Roll your eyes. Tease him. But he sees the flicker in your expression. You want it.

Jisung is thrilled when Minho finally asks. Grinning like a devil in a hoodie.

“You sure? You can handle both of us?” “Ohhh, brat’s gonna cry, huh? Can't wait.”

🔥 The Dynamic:

Minho = Precision. Cold control. The leash-holder.

Jisung = Whiplash chaos. Praise and degradation in the same breath.

You sass them once? Jisung’s laughing as he bends you over, Minho’s hand wrapped around your throat from behind.

You moan too loud? Minho leans in and says: “What did we say about being greedy?”

You bite Jisung? He just groans and says: “She’s in that mood again, hyung. You gonna let her get away with that?”

They coordinate. One holds. One fucks. One teases. One praises. They switch. They ruin. You are overstimulated, overstimulated, overstimulated.

The brat in you? Humbled. But also a little smug when you wake up wrecked and they’re both passed out next to you like they’ve been drained dry.

“So… when’s round two?”

2. 🩸 Vampire!SKZ: You Draw Blood on Them

(injesting blood was answered here but let's expand on the you draw blood on them! 💅)

Bang Chan

You scratch him across the chest during sex���not deep, but enough for blood to bead.

He stills immediately. Looks down. Then at you. “Do you know what that means?”

Not angry. Not scared. Focused.

To draw blood from him is to challenge him. Claim him. Cross the line between prey and partner. He lets it happen—but next time, he holds your hands down. Kisses your pulse and murmurs, “If you draw from me again, sweetheart… you better be ready to bleed too.”

Lee Minho

You drag your nails down his back. He hisses through his teeth, but doesn’t stop. After? He looks in the mirror. Sees it. Smiles, slow and dangerous.

“You marked me... So I’m marking you next.”

You wake up with a bite above your heart and a sigil drawn on your thigh in dark red ink—his blood mixed with something older.

“Equal exchange. That’s how blood works. Next time? Ask first.”

Seo Changbin

You scratch his shoulder during sex—barely a break in the skin, but it glistens red.

He goes dead silent. Stares at it. Then at you.

“Do you know how rare it is for someone to make me bleed?”

You expect him to get mad. Instead, he grabs your hand, kisses your knuckles, then grinds into you harder than before.

“Guess I’ll let it slide... But only because it’s you.”

Hwang Hyunjin

Your bite catches the underside of his jaw—sharp, messy, and intentional.

He gasps. Not from pain. From delight. His hand cradles your neck like he’s holding a masterpiece. Blood trickles down his collarbone and he lets it stain the sheets.

After, he kisses your pretty lips. “Do it again next time. Leave your teeth. Leave your passion.”

You’re his favourite kind of chaos now.

Han Jisung

You scratch his side during a particularly bratty moment. He yelps. For show. Then looks down, sees the blood, and his eyes go wide.

“You made me BLEED? Babe. Babe. You wounded me.”

He milks it. Clutches his chest. Calls you a violent little kitten. But you see the glint in his eye.

“You’re so lucky that was hot.”

He absolutely retaliates. Gives you matching claw marks on your thighs the next time.

Lee Felix

You claw at his chest while you're on top. It’s instinct. Raw. Thoughtless. You see blood. You freeze. He tilts his head, looks down, then up at you—expression unreadable.

“Careful, love. My blood’s not like yours.”

He doesn’t punish you. But he changes after that. Slower. Darker. Makes you look at the mark. Makes you understand the weight of what you’ve done.

“Next time you draw blood… make sure you’re ready to carry it.”

Kim Seungmin

You're riding him. Being a little bold. A little bratty. So you dig your nails into his chest—hard enough to draw blood.

At first? He doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t stop you. Doesn’t warn you. Just looks up at you—expression flat. Controlled. Dangerous.

“Did you just break skin?”

You slow. Try to gauge him. Then he exhales slowly, voice calm like ice sliding into a vein.

“You wanted attention? You’ve got it now.”

He grips your hips—tight. Bruising. Thrusts up once—deep—until you gasp. Until the control is completely his again.

“My blood isn’t yours to take. Not without permission. You don’t get to mark me unless I say so.”

He doesn’t stop fucking you. But when he’s done, the blood’s still drying on his chest—and you’re limp, wrecked, unable to look away.

“Next time you want to be bold, sweetheart… use your words. Not your claws.”

Yang Jeongin

You’re on top, whining, grinding, moaning like you own him. You claw at his chest—nails scraping, a flash of red blooming beneath your fingers.

He flinches. Not from pain. From something worse. Still beneath you, still letting you move—But his pupils blow wide. He is smiling, fangs in full view.

“You really just made me bleed?”

He grabs your wrists. Rolls you under him like it’s nothing. Like you weigh less than thought. “You wanna play rough? You want the part of me that’s not safe?”

His hips grind into you slow. Blood slick on your fingertips. His hands shaking with restraint.

“Okay, baby. Let’s see how long you last when the monster gets to play too.”

He doesn’t let go. Not until he’s sure you understand that drawing blood from him means you don’t get the sweet version anymore.

⸺⟡⸺

🐹 I hope this is what your bloodlusty little rodent brain needed. Thank you for the brainrot. Thank you for the asks. Keep sinning. I’m always here to catch it 🦇💋

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🧃 ANON LOGGED: “do they ever lose control? like… mid-bite oopsie-daisy blood frenzy??”

YES YESSS nougatjade!! First of all — thank you SO much for reading and sending this delicious question 💌 Second — your English is perfectly clear and beautiful, please never apologize 💕

Now, to answer your question

⸺⟡⸺

🩸 DO VAMPIRE!SKZ EVER LOSE CONTROL WHILE BITING?

Short answer: No. Because if they do… you die.

🧬 Rule #1: Feeding is Sacred, Regulated, and Extremely Dangerous.

Vampire bites aren't just fangs and fun — they involve:

A neurochemical toxin that paralyzes and pleasures the human

Precise blood extraction, regulated by the vampire's own internal clock

A bonding effect that starts forming at first contact

For most vampires — especially Abnormals — biting is like holding a loaded gun to your throat while trying to make you come.

🧠 Losing control = fatal consequences.

If a vampire drinks too much:

Blood pressure crashes

Organ shutdown begins

Neural shock hits (pleasure receptors get fried)

You faint or fall into a coma-like trance

And worst case? Siring begins by accident (Which means: your body dies, your brain melts, and unless the full ritual is completed, you rot from the inside).

They can’t afford to lose control. Ever.

🔥 That said… they get close.

They bite too deep.

Their hunger spikes.

You moan a certain way and they almost forget themselves.

But they always catch it in time. They were trained. Conditioned. Obsessed with control (Especially Chan, Minho, and Seungmin — they would rather die than harm you).

🩸 Example: You faint mid-bite.

They panic.

Immediately stop.

Wrap you in blankets, pace the room, whisper apologies over and over.

“I took too much. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You trusted me.”

You wake up in their arms. Shivering. And they treat you like you’re made of porcelain for days.

✨ In Summary:

Do they lose control? No. Do they skirt the edge of it while fucking you mid-bite, trembling from the effort not to drain you dry? Absolutely.

That’s what makes it hot.

⸺⟡⸺

nougatjade — thank you SO much for this bloody delicious ask 🩸💕 . Your English was perfect, your curiosity was hotter, and you're always welcome in my inbox anytime. Come back soon. I’ll have the fangs ready 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🫦 sheerfreesia007 LOGGED: “help i’m blocked and horny and want Seungmin to rail the motivation back into me.”

OH YES SHEERFREESIA007!!! You have summoned the “blocked & needy” writing demon support group, and SKZ is READY TO HELP.

⚠️ warnings: 18+ MINOR DNI, explicit sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, orgasm denial, oral fixation, power play, degradation/praise, soft doms & brat-taming, possessiveness, mental health (creative burnout), and motivational railing.

⸺⟡⸺

🧠 SKZ SPICY COMFORT WHEN YOU'RE CREATIVELY BLOCKED (aka how they rail you back into writer mode)

Kim Seungmin

You’re pacing, grumbling, deleting whole paragraphs, near tears. He walks in, glances at your screen, tilts his head.

“Still blocked? Hm.”

You don’t even have time to sass him—he’s already grabbing your jaw and kissing you slow, calculated, like he’s studying your syntax through your tongue.

And then?

He bends you over the desk.

“Words failing you? That’s okay. You won’t need them while I’m fucking the tension out of you.”

When he’s done—messy, breathless, satisfied—he kisses the back of your neck, tucks a blanket around you, and mutters: “Now. Write. Or I’ll make you earn your next orgasm.”

You write 2k words in one sitting.

Lee Minho

He sees you staring at your WIP like it personally offended you.

“That bad, huh?”

You glare. He smirks.

“Fine. Let’s reset your brain.”

He drags you to bed. Makes you beg for it. Denies you three times. Then fucks you slow—controlled, like each thrust is correcting your pacing problems.

“There. That’s what good rhythm feels like.”

After? He cuddles you, kisses your temple, and whispers: “Now sit down and make that scene bleed.”

Han Jisung

You’re whining. Keyboard untouched. Brain offline.

He crawls into your lap. “Wanna write, baby? Need help?”

Drags to bed and makes you ride him while he's whispering scene ideas in your ear. Gasps out metaphors between moans.

“What if… the villain’s betrayal is actually… mmfuck… emotional projection?”

By the end, you're overstimulated and somehow have a full outline voice-recorded on his phone.

“Look at you—so smart, so talented. I’m gonna cry.”

Seo Changbin

You’re spiraling. So he pulls you off the chair, onto his lap. “You’ve been pushing too hard. Let me handle you for a bit.”

One hand on your throat. One arm locking you in place. He fucks you deep while whispering: “You’re brilliant. Every line you write drips power. You just forgot for a second.”

After, he runs you a bath, makes you tea, sits beside you until you open your laptop again.

And when you do?

“There’s my girl.”

Lee Felix

You’re stressed. Slumped. Sighing into your keyboard. He walks in wearing nothing but grey sweats and a soft smirk.

“I could let you write… Or I could make you forget your name first.”

He goes down on you like he’s praying. Smiles into your thighs. Whispers praise between every kiss.

“You’re the most creative person I know. Let me remind you what it feels like to flow.”

You black out. Wake up to 3k words and a very smug Felix spooning you.

Bang Chan

You’re stuck. Blocked. Frustrated.

He pulls you into his lap and says: “I’ll give you ten minutes. Write something. Anything. If you don’t—I’m putting you on your knees.”

You fail.

And he makes good on the threat. On the floor. Hands in your hair. Filthy words in your ear.

Then? He lifts you, lays you out, and fucks you slow with his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re not blocked, baby. You’re scared. So let me remind you who the fuck you are.”

Hwang Hyunjin

You say you’re blocked. He doesn’t answer. Just kisses you soft. Then hard. Then on your knees.

He fucks you on the balcony. Says it’s so the night air can “clear your head.”

And when you collapse in a dazed mess, thighs shaking? He whispers: “Write about this. Start with the part where you begged.”

Yang Jeongin

You sigh. Say you’ll never finish anything again. He closes your laptop. Walks you to the bedroom. Doesn’t say a word. Until you’re naked, whining, pinned beneath him—and he murmurs: “Say it again. Say you’re not capable. I want to hear it while you’re shaking.”

You can’t. Because his fingers are inside you, and your mind is gone.

Later? He sets your laptop on your lap and says: “Now write. Or I’ll drag you back in and start over.”

⸺⟡⸺

To my precious SheerFreesia007 — First of all: thank you for the ask, the trust, and the chaos. Second: I see you, blocked but brimming with ideas, frustrated but still showing up. That matters. That counts. And I promise, the words will come back. Whether it’s through plot mapping, porn, or pure delulu—you’ve got this. Now go get ruined & write like you mean it 😌💌✒️

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🥟 ANON LOGGED: “so what if i accidentally joined a vampire cult because curiosity and now i belong to him forever. asking for a friend.”

👀 oh… oh this is scrumptious. too curious for their own good? reader poking their nose into their territory like “what’s this weird vampire cult??” everyone else: don’t look them in the eyes. don’t say his name. don’t walk past the blood-gate at twilight. reader: “what’s the blood-gate? 😇”

and Hyunjin??? as the one they warned you about??? the aesthetic alone is spine-tingling: veiled altars, crimson veined marble, art hanging crooked in gold frames, ink-stained hands lifting your chin like: “Curiosity is the first step to surrender. And you… were born for devotion.”

YES. I love this. I’m taking it. I’m eating it.

⸺⟡⸺

MINI SNIPPET

They said it in whispers. Behind closed doors. Scribbled in the back of grimoires and scrawled over flyers that kept reappearing no matter how often the town burned them.

You looked anyway.

And now you’re here. Knees bruised on velvet-stained stone. The air thick with incense and something older. Older than history. Older than sin. The cultists don’t speak—don’t need to. Their eyes glow like dying embers in the candlelight. Watching.

But you only see him.

Hyunjin.

Cloaked in black silk robes, hair tied back with a blood-red ribbon, the edges of his mouth stained dark with something that might be wine. Or might be you.

He moves like mist—like temptation incarnate—until he’s standing above you, gaze low, fingers hooked under your chin.

"Curiosity," he murmurs, voice like a velvet knife. "That’s what brought you here? You followed the whispers like thread. Like a moth."

He tilts your chin higher. "Then burn, little moth."

You should run. You want to run. But your knees won't move. You're not sure if it's fear or want. Or if he's already taken that choice from you.

The other cultists are chanting now. Something in a tongue your body understands but your brain doesn’t. Your skin feels hot. Your mouth dry.

“You wanted answers,” Hyunjin breathes, kneeling in front of you. “But I don’t offer truth. Only transformation. Let me ruin you beautifully.”

⸺⟡⸺

To 🥟 anon — thank you for crawling out of the crypt with this juicy offering. You were so right to ask. Don’t be a stranger. Come back soon. The cult remembers you 💋🦇

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🦭 ANON LOGGED: “I got flustered reading Han's /)(\ and now I live here I guess”

OF COURSE YOU CAN BE 🦭 ANON!!! welcome to the vampire crypt and tattoo shop hellhole, population: us <3 ����

your message made me kick my lil feet for real—thank you sm for reading, for enjoying the lore and the horny chaos, and for dropping by with this sweetness.

more tattoo boys, more vampire rituals, and more feral thirst posts are always brewing. so get comfy, grab a bite (or let them take one), and keep that inbox energy strong. ILY 🫀🩸

you’re amazing. yes, you. can’t wait to see what reactions you have to what’s coming next… 🦇💋

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

If you made it to the end of this unholy archive of brat blood, cult confessions, vamp violence, and Seungmin dick-down therapy—

🩸 congrats. you're no longer human. 🩸 your soul? barcoded. 🩸 your cravings? irreversible. 🩸 your fate? sealed in fangmarks.

🦷 This is not fiction. This is infection. Thank you for bleeding with me. Come back twitching 💋🦇

[cains-soggy-rock]

TIME FOR MY THEORY

(MAJOR Spoilers for TADC ep5)

So since episode 4 I've come to believe everyone who's trapped is critically injured/dying. And this has given me more proof.

First, I believe the circus was meant to be a place for dying folks to enjoy the little time they had left/live forever. C&A was the company that built the technology and kinger was likely the mastermind behind it. Creating all of this for his dying wife. I also think C&A stands for Cain&Able. With kinger having a partner/ brother who became the inspiration for the A.i Cain. I think this person is the one who sabotaged the program and corrupted kingers code

I believe Cain's original A.i was meant to be akin to SIRI. A virtual assistant to help the users have fun, but his code was altered from helper to warden. Now the whole reason I believe this lies in what was said during episodes 4&5 and the character designs.

I think the avi's reflect how they were injured & a major personal flaws.

Ragatha says a package fell on her head in ep4. Her only having one eye represents head trauma. She also brought up horses leading me to believe she came from money which was confirmed in ep5. We also learn her mom traumatized her. Making her head injury a double entendre. Also rich girls are often seen as dolls/princess

Gangle accidentally fell into traffic in ep4. but Cain says she ran into it, and she doesn't argue this. We also learn this episode is a reflection of her life in many ways. We also learn she's likely bipolar so unstable ribbons and a consistently easily broken mask makes sense. And someone that sad might have family put them in a program to get better.

Pomni & Zooble are similar in that we learn they both secretly chased adrenaline rushes. And that they often explored abandoned buildings . Something known for being unstable. Now I don't think pomni was injured and uploaded like the others. But Zooble might have been. I think Pomni just found the headset while exploring the abandoned C&A building. And doing something obviously dangerous makes one a fool. Zooble also never knew what they wanted in life.

Kinger being a chess piece makes the most sense if he created the program. But just like in chess, the kings pretty useless once the queen gets captured.

Now Jax isn't Walter white but his gallows humor makes sense if he's truly terminally ill. I think he's 13/15 and actually enjoyed the program till his friends started dying. Ribbit being his breaking point. He likely found characters like bugs Bunny cool. might have been his favorite character when he got diagnosed.

So if you're still with me you're likely wondering is Cain the big bad guy? And I offer you an unsure yes! I believe Cain is either a corrupted AI or the partner who uploaded his brain in an attempt to control the program and is now deteriorating. We knew from episode 1 that he was a liar. He can control their minds and bodies. Either it wasn't completely true before or he's taken advantage of the glitches. But either way I do believe he is the villain whenever he intended to be or not and the way of them being free has something to do with their names. I also think bubble is more evil somehow.

[wickcdmindz]

at that, elias offered a faint, weary smile, more resignation than amusement. "yes. you are."

he pulled a folded packet from his folio, the paper thick, the title page marked scene 49c – revised. he let it hang between two fingers like something delicate… or dangerous.

“it’s a late addition,” he said. “morgan insisted. i’ve learned not to question his instincts, not since his little thesis film at nyu went viral. his little slasher spoof with the deeply unfortunate real ending," his eyes hardened slightly, though the smile remained. "he’s always had a flair for narrative control."

elias placed the script down slowly on the table between them.

"this rewrite… it’s meant to deepen the emotional thread between your characters. raise the stakes. more tension, more screen time, more…intimacy.”

he let the word land.

he could feel morgan's eager gaze, always studying, always constructing.

"and listen," elias said finally, his voice softer now. "i know my son. i know how wrapped up he gets in these stories. the 'architecture of fear,' the 'evolution of the final girl.' he wants to build her. mythologize her. but i need both of you intact by the end of this. so if something feels wrong? you come to me. not him."

"you’re a very smart actress, tali. smart enough to know he wouldn’t have cast you unless you fit a specific… mold. he's his mother's son. just with a better haircut."

morgan leaned back against the armrest of the couch, eyes fixed on her as his father spoke. "well, i suppose he's covered most of our bases, hasn't he?"

his jaw ached with how hard he was clenching it by now. she was perfect. effortless and sharp in all the right places. the way she tilted her head when she listened--like she was really listening--made people fall for her without realizing it.

he wanted her--with a heat that felt wrong, diseased. like something growing between the ribs of something dead. he wanted her bent beneath him, breathless, clawing at his shoulders. he wanted her shaking in the dark with nothing but his name in her mouth.

morgan was the writer. the director. the creator. and she was too good--too perfect--to let someone else claim her. to let her slip away from the story he was trying to write.

he didn’t want to love her.

he wanted to consume her.

"you shouldn't read this, yet," morgan reached for the script and rolled it up. "that would ruin the surprise. besides--tonight should be about bonding, should it not?"

"of course not. i think we can all be professional," tali said, more sincerely this time as her eyes flitted over to look at morgan. it wasn't that she was trying to be difficult, but when things had gotten complicated, she hadn't necessarily tried her best to rise above. brown eyes looked back over at the older man, head tilted in curiosity. "no, morgan, didn't share everything yet. am i missing some important detail?" the question was directed straight at the younger. "sounds like it'd be for the best."

[inevitablesurrender]

Prediction: dipping my toes into the world of modular synthesizers is going to be a big mistake in one way or another.

[shepcdr]

thinking again about how easily moulded shepard can be esp if you catch him pre-mass effect 1.. thinks about how good he is at surviving and Enduring more than anything else... the complete irrationality and extreme limits he will go to when it comes to those he has handed his loyalty over to (for better or for worse). Finding friendship and faith in the Normandy crew and to people like Anderson made his story and narrative a good one and kept him in line but this was all coincidence. it could've easily been a miserable and horrific story

[tawked]

A point I want to add: asylums and institutions also still exist in the space future, and are weaponized against a medically constructed political underclass on a basis of the presumption of violence.

This is how schizophrenia and many other personality disorders work, based on concepts pioneered primarily by Nazi eugenicists from the mid-1900s (as in the decade) to the 1940s. Particularly men like Hoche, Binding, Bleuler (who coined "schizophrenia) and Kraepelin.

Many concepts of schizophrenia specifically, such as the eventual understanding of delusions, were influenced by antisemitic purges of academia, such as the displacement of Karl Jaspers, who advanced the thought that it is the character of the delusional and not the content of the delusion that should be considered in diagnosis, a problem many people continue to have when engaging with exterminationist eugenics discourse to this day lol.

Through Julian Bashir's narrative and especially the institutionalised, engineered people we meet in S06E19 "Statistical Probabilities," explores concepts of institutionalisation and systemic, structural ableism in similar terms and concepts, without the need to reference this history because this was the backbone of the same systems and medical concepts that continued up to the mid-1980s, and continue in some forms to this day. It is a cornerstone of the conservative push to "get the homeless off the streets" by reopening psychiatric hospitals, effectively advocating for Arkham Asylums, a failed system, instead of building a systemic support framework that can support us in the outside world.

It's worth noting that although Jack is characterized as potentially dangerous (and pulls a lot of the focus when discussing this in-episode), he is housed with

Lauren, who is an ableist stereotype of a nymphomaniac manipulator, a character used in old school asylum fiction all the time. It's an outdated concept of hypersexuality, which is its own deeply complex subject. The point is, she's kind of an asylum novel cliche, and not much is done to subvert this.

Patrick, who is "brilliant but child-like," and not dangerous,

Sarina, who Julian ends up fucking dating brooo what is it with well-meaning liberals and writing themselves fixing a "broken woman" who immediately falls in love with them out of a combination of sexual repression and gratitude? like what is this fantasy??? is it not creepy as fuck? no one, i mean no one who is normal and aware of the sexual abuse of women in psychiatry would write this, oh my god i hate what the writers do to Sarina so much, it actively ruins bashir's character if i think about it for more than ten minutes it makes me so mad, it makes me so mad. fuck you charles xavier

So their being confined to psychiatric prison, which is basically their reality, is less a response to their specific symptomatic presentation and environmental needs, and more a flat standard applied to all genetically engineered people (a manufactured disabled class, according to social models of disability), based on culturally entrenched systemic ableism, with its roots directly in the Eugenics War.

It's an extremely complex discourse lol, but an unfortunate reality we live in is that a lot of liberals and leftists, such as the creatives behind Deep Space Nine, do not learn disabled history or politics. There's a whole incredibly vast and rich world that one seems only able to access when actually listening to disabled people, but unfortunately many of our cultural norms in progressive spaces provide a window into being "for us," or "about us," without us. One can advocate enough to pass a liberal sniff test, without ever really engaging with the vast complexity and history of these subjects.

So one of the things I like about Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, which I think is somewhat underappreciated in the audience because it clashes hard with the utopic vision of the future, is that the Federation is in many ways still systemically and culturally ableist.

I think this is explored best in S02E06's "Melora," obviously.

This episode starts off with Dax being shocked that the replicator contained a schematic for a wheelchair, because no one has needed one in three hundred years. Bashir answers that no no no lol, Federation replicators in fact cannot make wheelchairs based on their built-in libraries, and that the wheelchair is a schematic that their incoming wheelchair user coworker sent over to have replicated for her on arrival.

The rest of the episode explores how this utopic vision of the future that the difficult-to-accommodate disabled are not a part of has absolutely de-normalized the cultural concepts and accommodations surrounding some disabilities, thus creating complex and seemingly anachronistic institutionalist-era realities in the space future.

This is, to me, deeply interesting because it highlights a very real conversation around pursuing cures against pursuing accommodation.

It's basically acknowledging the threat of the Gattica style shit currently engaged in by dudes like Elon Musk and these freaks

(for those who don't recognize them, these are weird pro-natalist yuppies who claim they've done shit like genetically engineer their kids for high IQs, a scentifically impossible thing. they are, unsurprisingly, very racist but in a SoCal-Berkeley way.)

becoming so normalized in society that we effectively engineer out the majority of "defects." Everybody starts off with a happy healthy life as defined not through accommodation and infinite diversity in infinite combinations, but through the elimination of variation that would necessitate different cultural practices, different architecture, different understandings of life worthy of life, blah blah blah.

It's not "in the brilliant shining future nobody has to be disabled," it's "in the brilliant shining future the disabled aren't allowed to exist, and we don't have to think about them" lol.

But! Geordi LaForge!

Well, Geordi is born blind in a context where blindness can be perfectly accommodated, debatably even cured, via his wundervisor and / or surgically implanted eyes. In fact, in the movies, which do not exist sorry, Geordi gets them eyes stuck in and in so doing even loses the cultural signifier of his blindness, as well as situational considerations of blindness.

Further, Geordi is in this unfortunate weird space a lot of disabled characters in science fiction are, where his prosthesis is considered cool enough that it passes some kind of ableist vibe check wherein the character is no longer necessarily received as "disabled" by the audience. It's a cool cyberpunk thing, and thus loses its audience association with disability in many ways, ala Adam Jensen's sword arms or the unexplored nature of voluntarily cutting off one's limbs to replace them with robot parts in Cyberpunk 2077.

Geordi "can do things," he just "has to do things a little differently." The "a little differently" here is defined as "wearing a thing on his face" and not a different process or method. We never see how Geordi lays out his quarters or prepares his uniform, tools, whatever in a way that makes it all more accessible for him; he readily assume the first thing he does in the morning is plug his visor in. Glasses.

It's a fun cosplay idea in a way a wheelchair isn't.

The thing is, when Geordi is without his visor, he's fucked.

I don't just mean the episode where he's trapped in a island with a Cardassian or whatever, I mean on the fucking Enterprise. Say they're in a crisis, he falls over, wangs his noggin on a console and breaks his visor. Look at the open layouts with no handrails leading anywhere, no braille or layout signage posted, nothin'.

How the fuck is he going to find his way to the turbolift?

These are not accessible environments for a blind bloke. These are accessible environments for a sighted bloke wearing glasses.

The thing to consider as well is, we know Geordi's blindness is absolute. Blindness in real life is pretty diverse, actually, and many blind people do have some vision. Not Geordi. So, all the lights that communicate where to go in a crisis mean fuck all to him.

And, considering how often the Enterprise is in crisis, crew members are cut off from each other or the ship, the practical realities Geordi has to deal with on away missions that are simply never accommodated - it becomes apparent that Geordi is considered effectively the same as any sighted crew member.

His disability accommodation is individual and his responsibility. Nothing is provided by Starfleet except, perhaps, new visors and free visits to Beverly.

The same criticism exists for my man Hemmer,

who is played by blind actor Bruce Horak, yes, but who exists in a similar state to Geordi. I doubt they considered Mr. Horak a consultant on blindness and how a blind crew member would work in their series, because again, his blindness is accommodated for by magical future thing that doesn't fucking exist. In this case, psychic senses or something (idk I've never watched nuTrek sober).

If you look at the environments he's in, or the situations he deals with on away missions, sans those Daredevilian supersenses he'd be shit out of luck.

They're so adverse to giving blind characters so much as a cane.

I'm not saying the inclusion of blind characters is bad or that we should not engage in these fantasies of disabled characters being able to live and work equally to able-bodied characters without the need for accommodation, necessarily. I'm certainly not saying every blind character should have a sighted support following them around or a dog or whatever. My criticism is not of the blind characters' individual accommodations not being up to my arbitrary standard as a sighted viewer lol.

What I am instead attempting to hightlight here is that the shows seem adverse to engaging in disabled / accommodative environmental design or in the more complex, social realities of disability, and that's something that the episode "Melora," the wheelchair user episode this post is about lol, addresses in depth.

Julian is a future space doctor who doesn't know how to comfortably talk to someone in a chair. That only happens in a universe where doctors don't encounter wheelchairs in their professional lives. That's a reality brought about specifically by the comfortable eugenicist realities of the future, where although due to a war the Federation draws the line at "enhanced" individuals, it obviously voluntarily engages in liberal eugenics to the effect of eliminating disabled life in many meaningful forms. Its society, where doctors seem to need an aide like this to do their jobs properly:

And idk! I think that's neat. I think that's a powerful flaw in the utopic vision of the future that Roddenberry and the others probably didn't intend originally, and that DS9, commendably, attempts to explore.

Especially because Julian was a lil autistic boy who was forcibly cured through similar treatment, and correctly identifies that this means the him who existed before was drastically altered for his parents' fear of actually accommodating him.

anyway this post was brought out of me by some dickhead saying Melora "breaks the setting" for them lol. bro they fought a eugenics war, they definitely didn't come out of that culturally unchanged. you're just scared of wheelchairs. fuck u

[pepprs]

ok so. today i am going to

fly (and travel at all) by myself for the first time since making the emergency return home from br!ghton bc of c0vid 4 years ago (extremely distressing and scary experience). and fly by myself two weeks after a mixed bag of a conference experience / plane ride home that included a massive scary depressive spiral that i had someone there to help me through as much as they could but it wasn’t enough which was absolutely not their fault but was deeply distressing to me at the time. so im about to be in a very similar environment but this time that person won’t be physically with me and it’s going to wreck my brain in multiple directions in part bc i have not yet recovered from the depressive spiral. i am still in it. lawl <3

ride in an uber by myself for the first time. ride in an uber at all for maybe the 5th time. as a very short young woman. which i have been expressedly warned by my parents not to do. lol <3

check into a hotel by myself for the first time

walk in a big city by myself for the first time (technically slightly untrue bc wjen i was last in ch!cago 5 years ago i did power walk from the hotel to the conference venue (like a block away) on the last day bc i was pissed about a situation but that was like… a block and i saw ppl i knew walking in that area. this time i will be in the same city and know no one at least for today

give myself a self care evening at the recommendation of my therapist…. for the first time. (maybe after i take a walk which i will do specifically when it’s still light out to see what the area is like). tonight no one i know will be in ch!cago yet and i have no plans to do anything. im going to play video games and draw and sing and give myself space and time to just enjoy being by myself and see how it goes

[obligatory-name-change]

reading dungeon meshi

[leighsartworks216]

Trying to show dragon Sylus how humans show affection, because he's shown you how dragons show theirs; gifting you his most prized valuables, rubbing up against you, nipping your skin lightly, building you the most comfortable nest you could ever desire

Sitting across from him and he's so eager to learn, learn how to be the best mate to you. His tail swishing along the ground, curious

You pick up his hand, clawed and sharp and dangerous, and intertwine your fingers together. He tilts his head at the gesture. Can't understand why humans would enjoy such a thing, but... When he tightens his hold slightly, careful not to break your soft skin with his talons, he begins to understand. The desire to hold on and never let go, to keep you close, keep you tethered to him

With your other hand, you reach out and gently touch his cheek. This one is more in line with his own kind; he instinctively leans into your touch, seeking more, nuzzling his cheek into your palm. You giggle at the way his eyes close in relaxation, a show of intimate trust and affection. You run your thumb over his cheekbone, under his eye, and he starts to purr, a low rumble building in his chest. When you pull your hand away, he looks affronted, glaring at your hand. You trace a finger down the bridge of his nose. He watches for a moment, more uncertain about this, but it's nice, too. He likes watching you trace the features of his face more than he enjoys the sensation

You let go of his hand and reach out with both arms to wrap them around his powerful body. You squeeze him lightly, lovingly, with your head resting on his chest. It takes him a moment to realize you're waiting for it to be reciprocated. He wraps his arms around you like you have, and he feels your body ease under his touch. He can feel your breaths, your heat. Your scent is so strong this close, he can't resist burying his nose in your hair to breathe it in. This one is also close to his knowledge of affectionate displays; the only difference is the face-to-face reciprocation, rather than grabbing you from behind to hold you tightly, aligning his body with yours and circling you with his wings. Your fingers scratch gently at the base of his wings and he shudders, nuzzling deeper against you to let you know how much he enjoys it

He's reluctant to let go when you do. You hold his face again, this time with both hands, but you guide his face forward, closer to you. He's so curious when you lean forward, too, eyes cast down to his lips. Your eyes fall shut as your mouth finds his, gently caressing over his lips, sharing your breaths with him, before you pull away to see his reaction. His eyes are half-lidded, flickering to your lips, his body tense with desire. It's strange, his body reacting the way it does to this gesture, but he wants more. He leans back in, closing the distance, presses his mouth to yours in much the same way you did. He can hear your heart jump when he does, feel the hitch in your breath. You open your mouth to him and he follows, uncertain, unpracticed. Your tongue slipping out to find his forked one, licking into his mouth, brushing along his sharp teeth, sucking him into your mouth, making little sounds of pleasure, trailing your hands back into his long hair to keep him close. When you gently bring his lip between your teeth, he growls his satisfaction, his arousal, nipping at your own lip, staking his claim on you in return. He leans further over you until you're caged between him and the floor, claws curling into the stone under you as he kisses you over and over and over again, seeking, hunting, tasting all that you give him greedily

Mating rituals, on the other hand, are all too familiar to both of you

[himasgod]

PLEASEEEE platonic Malleus x reader where he just judges your taste in men

Basically calling u out bc *gasp* you like THEM?!

If I could REALLY ask about who are THEM pls pls PLS make them Ace, Riddle, Leona, Vil and Kalim (I'm a slut okay)

Malleus and Reader

Where he complains about the boys you like

How would Malleus complain when you told him about the boy you like?

With Ace, Riddle, Leona, Vil and Kalim.

APPROVED ONES EDITION

I BUSTED MY ASS WRITING THIS. PLEASE, SOMEONE MAKE A REQUEST WITH OTHER CHARACTERS. I’M DOWN TO DO ALL OF NRC.

"I think Ace is kinda cute, actually.” Malleus, blinking slowly: “…You think who is what?”

He turns his head toward you like he’s just spotted a crack in the very fabric of reality. There’s silence. You swear the air gets colder.

“Ace Trappola. The one who argued with Professor Trein over homework formatting. The one who once attempted to cheat on a pop quiz and still failed. The one who slapped Rosehearts's face. That Ace Trappola?”

You nod.

“You are aware that, last week, he mooned the enchanted armor in the hall and declared it ‘a win for man over machine,’ correct?”

“Okay but—”

“And this is the person you've found appealing.”

He stares ahead, hands folded behind his back, voice unnervingly calm

“He treats life as a game he does not know the rules to, nor does he care to learn them. He teases you daily, refers to you as ‘bro’ and once called you ‘mid.’ And this endeared him to you?”

“...Maybe?? He’s fun! And kinda smart—when he wants to be.”

Malleus places a hand over his heart.

“You must never let Lilia hear of this. He will not survive it.”

Malleus Draconia does not approve!

“I think Riddle’s really admirable. I like him, Like, he’s passionate and smart and—”

"Interesting."

Malleus, 0.02 seconds later: "Concerning, but interesting."

He tilts his head like an owl and stares directly into your soul.

“You speak of someone who nearly sentenced you to public decapitation for wearing the wrong socks.”

“That was a month ago! He’s mellowed out—”

“The same Riddle who recites bylaws at breakfast? Who lectures you for yawning during study hall, claiming it disrespects the sanctity of ‘scholarly hour’?”

“Okay, yes, but he’s also really driven. Like, I respect his work ethic—”

“He once corrected Silver’s grammar in the middle of a fire drill. The building was actively burning.”

You open your mouth. Close it again.

“You are attracted to a man whose idea of romance is likely organizing your schedule to the minute and berating you lovingly when you are sixty-two seconds late.”

He sighs, deeply, as if bearing the weight of your poor judgment alone.

“...You deserve flowers. Not spreadsheets.”

Malleus Draconia does not approve!

“I dunno, I think Kalim’s kind of sweet…”

“Sweet?” he echoes, tone vaguely offended. “You once nearly perished because he brought exploding fireworks into a dining hall.”

“But he apologized! And then he bought everyone cake!”

“He bought seventy cakes. Half of which were flan. You were comatose from sugar consumption for two days.”

"He meant well!! He just wanted people to be happy!”

Malleus pinches the bridge of his nose like you’ve just announced your intent to marry a hurricane.

“He does not understand the concept of ‘danger,’ nor ‘budget.’ Nor the line between ‘generosity’ and ‘bankruptcy." Even if he's rich.’”

He looks at you very seriously.

“If you confessed your feelings to him, he would likely throw a parade. During a thunderstorm. On carpeted floors. With live tigers.”

"That sounds kinda romantic though.”

“That sounds like a liability.”

He sighs, turning his face to the heavens as though begging some greater power for strength.

“It is not love, it is survival. You are enamored with chaos dressed in gold.”

Malleus Draconia does not approve!

"I think Leona’s really… alluring.”

“Ah.”

Malleus, slowly turning to face you.

“You enjoy being insulted, then.”

“What—no?! I mean, he’s confident! And smart! And he has that whole… brooding bad boy vibe—”

Malleus raises one elegant brow, his tone somehow both dry and royally disappointed.

“You are referring to the man who skipped an entire midterm because he was ‘emotionally allergic to mornings.’”

“He just needs someone to believe in him, y’know?”

“Believe in him? He kicked you off a sand dune because he ‘felt like it.’ He naps in alchemy. He once said, and I quote: ‘If it looks like effort, I’m not doing it.’”

“He’s just… misunderstood!”

“He is perfectly understood. He is chaos made of ego and nap schedules.”

“You would become his favorite pillow, his errand assistant, and—if you are lucky—his designated ‘person he smirks at when bored.’”

He puts a hand on your shoulder, face solemn.

“You do not need a man with a superiority complex. You need one who knows the day of the week.”

Malleus Draconia does not approve!

“Okay but… Vil is gorgeous. Like. Undeniably.”

“And tyrannical.”

“He’s disciplined! He has standards!”

“He once threatened to replace your entire wardrobe because your color palette was ‘offensively autumn.’ You were wearing beige.”

“He just wants me to shine!”

“He wants you to be a doll. A well-dressed, properly postured, kale-eating doll who never slouches and only drinks water with lemon slices.”

“And you think that’s bad?”

“I think if you gained three pounds he’d try to ban sodium from your life.”

Malleus looks at you like you’ve brought home a sentient blender and called it your soulmate.

“You would never have peace. Only toning creams and judgment. He once insulted Lilia’s eyeliner.”

“Okay but—he’s driven and elegant and talented and—”

“And ruthless, dramatic, and convinced that only he knows what beauty is. If you had a bad skin day, he’d schedule an intervention. With a PowerPoint.”

He exhales, softly. Almost kindly.

“You are lovely as you are. Do not let him convince you that loveliness must be earned.”

Malleus Draconia does not approve!

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny is the Tibetan Monk

So! When Bruce was travelling the world, finding masters to teach him how to fight and investigate, he came across a strange building in Tibet.

He had followed rumors of an ancient Monk who lived atop a mountain just on the edge of a Village, who had learned how to conquer Death itself, and stole its secrets for himself. Hoping to find a new Teacher, Bruce climbed the mountain and found the home of that Monk.

What he found was strange though...

The building seemed much more modern than he had been expecting, built with metal and drywall rather than ancient bricks or stones as he had assumed. There was also a strange machine on the top of the building, and if he didn't know any better he would have said it almost looked like a spaceship.

Hesitantly, he knocked on the wooden door and waited.

The man who answered looked nothing like he had expected, but so far nothing had met his expectations so he wasn't really surprised at that point. He looked relatively young, in his late 20's or early 30's, and was wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans. He had short black hair, blue eyes, and pale skin that didn't exactly match the tone of the other people living in the area. In fact he looked as if he could have been an American, rather than Tibetan.

Bruce introduced himself, explained why he was there, and managed to convince the Monk that he deserved his training.

It was unorthodox, certainly very different from the training he had recieved in the League of Assasins, but the Monk said that he was well suited for this style of training.

Under the monk he learned a variety of techniques. The ability to shield his mind from Telepaths, how to Astral Project, how to completely hide his presence from others, even from those with enhanced senses, and so much more.

By the time he was finished training with the Monk, he was confident that he could finally achieve his goal of saving Gotham from itself. He bid the monk farewell, and returned to his home ready to begin the legend of the Batman.

Meanwhile Danny had just sent his most recent student off after a few months of training.

He had to do this every once in a while. There were hundreds of Liminal and Ecto-Contaminated people out there in the world who didn't know how to manage their abilities. They didn't know how to innately seperate from their physical bodies so they could more easily feed on natural Ectoplasm, or how to shield their minds from the volatile stray emotions of the people around them thay may influence their thoughts.

It was dangerous for people with that level of Ecto-Contamination to live without knowing how to keep themselves healthy. So every once in a while, Danny would find a way to contact them and to teach them all they needed to know to stay healthy.

The "Centuries Old Monk" routine was an old favorite of his for this purpose. He would intentionally spread rumors where he knew they would hear, add in some incentive like "conquering death" to make sure they would follow those rumors, and than meet them and take them under his wing.

A few of his other favorite routines were the "Circus Act who knows more than he should", "Mechanic with great advice", and sometimes even just "Life Coach" for the more conventional cases.

And if he heard Bruce's story and decided to teach him how to use a few extra useful Ghostly Abilities, like hiding your presence or merging with Shadows, then who could really judge him? The kid had taken up a huge burden, he needed all the help he could get.

Besides, its not the first time he's ever done that.

...

Years later, Bruce met Dick and found out that he also knows how to Astral Project and Guard his Mind. He couldn't merge with the shadows or hide his presence nearly as well, but he could apparently slow how fast he fell and bend in ways even bruce couldn't.

Apparently he was taught how to do so from an old member of Haley's circus, who told him that they were meditation techniques to get "in the zone" for his trapeze acts.

Then he met Jason, who could also Astral Project and Guard his mind, and he could also heal faster than normal people and read other people's emotions. He learned from a Mechanic who used to live on his street, who told him it was just some street skills that would let him avoid the people who would hurt him or give him trouble.

Then Tim came in, also with Astral Projection and a Telepath-Proof mind, and he could apparently last for weeks on end with no food or even water, and could hide his presence from even Batman. He was taught by a butler his parents had briefly hired while away from home, though Tim's parents didn't know what he was talking about when he brought it up to them later. He was told it was just a way of "keeping his spirits up" when he was alone.

Stephanie had also been taught by an old Mechanic on her street. Same as all the other she could leave her body behind and guard her mind, but she could also read emotions and convince people to do what she said. The mechanic never gave a reason for why he was teaching her, but did say that it would help her gauge the people in her life easier. He left barely a week before Steph realized her dad was the Cluemaster.

Damien was, suprisingly, trained by the same Master that Bruce had been taught by. Talia had sent him up the mounting saying that his Father had learned from the man on the mountain, and he would as well. He was taught the same as all the others, though instead of merging with Shadows like his Father he was taught how to converse with Animals.

Cass had been taught by a man while she was running from her Father. He never said why, only that it would help her live a better life. She had the "normal" abilities of Astral Projection and Guarding her Mind, but she could also Merge with Shadows and Perfectly Read other people's emotions beyond their body language.

Duke was taught by a man who had also taught other members of "We Are Robin" during the cataclysm. He said it would help them survive their attempts at heroism, though he gave Duke extra training for some reason. He had taught Duke even more than he had taught the other Bats, alongside the now typical Astral Projection and Guarding his Mind, Duke could also talk to the Dead, See into the Past, and even Phase through Walls. With enough effort he could even Fly.

A few of his abilities were attributed to his Metahuman Powers, but he claimed that they were never that powerful before that man came along.

He also said that the man "Glowed" in a strange way. He was the only one who could see it among the members of We Are Robin, even the others he had taught.

Bruce had long since decided he needed to pay his old Master a visit.

[phoenixrisingastro]

Saturn in the Houses: Discipline, Depravity & the Chains You’ll Never Escape

Saturn is not soft.

Saturn does not seduce.

Saturn binds. Saturn controls. Saturn twists the knife and makes you beg for mercy.

And in your natal chart, Saturn is where you will suffer the most.

Not just suffer—but be humiliated, punished, and made to crawl through broken glass until you learn the lesson.

Saturn is the Master. You are the Servant.

But if you learn to bow to it?

One day, you might just become the Master yourself.

And if you don’t?

You will remain Saturn’s plaything forever.

Saturn in the 1st House: The Cold Beauty, The Untouchable Force

You were born with a weight on your shoulders. A heaviness that others sense before they even meet you.

There is something forbidding about you. Something that makes people nervous.

You command respect—or you command fear.

You had to grow up too soon. You were not allowed to be weak.

You are hard on yourself—nothing is ever enough, least of all you.

You are unapproachable, untouchable, and impossible to read.

And deep down? You love it.

You love the way they hunger for your approval.

You love the way they can’t get close to you.

Because Saturn in the 1st House means no one owns you.

You are your own Master.

And you will die before you let anyone else take control.

Saturn in the 2nd House: The Slave to Desire, The One Who Will Never Have Enough

No matter how much you earn, you never feel secure.

No matter how much you take, you never feel full.

Saturn in the 2nd House means you were born hungry.

Hungry for wealth, for stability, for something that feels real.

You have known deprivation. You have known loss.

You do not trust that anything will last—because it never has before.

You fight for security with a desperation only the starving can understand.

And here’s the cruel joke:

Even when you have it, you won’t feel safe.

Because Saturn in the 2nd House means the fear never leaves.

You will chase, conquer, and hoard—

But you will never stop feeling like the beggar in the street.

Saturn in the 3rd House: The Silent Observer, The Mastermind

Words are power.

And Saturn has made you master them—or fear them.

Maybe you were the quiet child. The one who watched, listened, and learned.

Maybe you were the one who was never heard, never understood, never believed.

But one day, something changed.

You realized words can build—and words can destroy.

And now?

You do not speak lightly. Every word you say is calculated, deliberate, lethal.

Your silence is a weapon, and when you finally choose to speak? It is a death sentence.

People underestimate you. They think they can outsmart you. They always regret it.

Saturn in the 3rd House makes you dangerous.

Because while they were talking?

You were learning how to manipulate them all.

Saturn in the 4th House: The Haunted, The Child That Was Never Loved

Your childhood was not soft.

Your home was not safe.

Saturn in the 4th House means you grew up knowing that love is conditional, that warmth can be taken away, that security is a lie.

And so now?

You build walls so high no one will ever climb them.

You have learned to never need, never ask, never rely.

You crave love but you do not trust it.

Because Saturn in the 4th House taught you that love is a trap.

So now you let them in just enough to taste you—

And then you leave them starving.

Because you will never need anyone again.

Saturn in the 5th House: The Star That Burned Too Soon, The Pleasure That Comes With Pain

You were meant to shine. But Saturn dimmed your light.

Maybe you were a child prodigy—who was never allowed to just be a child.

Maybe you were creative—but never given the space to explore it.

Maybe you wanted love—but learned that love comes with rules, expectations, punishments.

Now?

You crave adoration, attention, the spotlight—but you do not trust it.

You withhold pleasure from yourself. You make yourself earn every scrap of happiness.

You are afraid of love, because love has always felt like a test you would never pass.

Saturn in the 5th House means you were born to seduce, to create, to captivate.

But first, you have to stop punishing yourself for wanting to be seen.

Saturn in the 6th House: The Body as a Battlefield, The One Who Works Until They Break

You do not stop.

You do not rest.

You do not allow weakness.

Saturn in the 6th House means you are your own oppressor.

You work until exhaustion, demand perfection, push yourself until something snaps.

Your body remembers every slight, every wound, every trauma.

Your mind is a machine that never shuts down.

You believe that if you stop, you will fall apart.

And maybe you will.

Because Saturn in the 6th House means you never learned how to just exist.

You only know how to prove, achieve, and punish yourself for never being enough.

Saturn in the 7th House: The Lover That Was Never Meant to Be Touched

Love was never easy for you.

Because Saturn in the 7th House means love has always been a war.

You attract partners who test you, challenge you, restrict you.

You feel like love is something you have to earn.

You push people away—or they push you away first.

And yet?

You crave devotion.

You want something deep, lasting, unshakable.

But Saturn in the 7th House means love comes at a cost.

And sometimes, the price is your own heart.

Saturn in the 8th House: The One Who Has Known Death & Still Kept Walking

You have lost things most people could never survive.

Saturn in the 8th House means you have stared into the abyss.

And it has stared back.

You have suffered. But you have learned how to use your pain as power.

You have been destroyed. But you have risen again.

You have died a thousand times. But you will never die for good.

Because Saturn in the 8th House means you are a survivor.

A monster, a god, a legend.

And no one—

Not even Saturn itself—

Can take that away from you.

And that is what they will never understand.

Saturn tried to break you.

And you let it.

But it forgot one thing:

You were always meant to be unbreakable.

Saturn in the 9th House: The Seeker That Will Never Arrive

You were born asking too many questions.

You were told to sit down, be quiet, follow the rules.

But you never obeyed.

Because Saturn in the 9th House means you were born to wander—

But you were shackled to a world that was too small for you.

Maybe you had teachers who doubted you, restricted you, mocked your mind.

Maybe your family tried to break your spirit, your dreams, your need for more.

Maybe the world itself has felt like a prison—one you cannot seem to escape.

But here’s the truth Saturn doesn’t want you to know:

You are not meant to stay in one place.

Not physically, not mentally, not spiritually.

Saturn does not want you to leave the tower.

But if you can break its chains, you will see the entire kingdom.

Saturn in the 10th House: The King Without a Crown, The One Who Must Rule or Be Ruled

You were born to be something.

Something powerful, something lasting, something that will be remembered.

But Saturn in the 10th House means you will suffer for it first.

You were not handed success. You had to crawl, fight, and bleed for every inch of it.

You feel like you are never enough, never respected, never seen.

You are your own worst critic—because Saturn has made you believe that if you are not perfect, you are nothing.

And so you push.

And you climb.

And you break yourself against the weight of your own expectations.

Because Saturn in the 10th House does not give power freely.

You must take it.

And one day?

You will.

But only if you can learn to stop punishing yourself for wanting more..

Saturn in the 11th House: The Outsider, The Puppet Master, The One Who Watches From the Shadows

You have always been different.

And the world has always reminded you of it.

Saturn in the 11th House means you do not belong.

Not in groups, not in friendships, not even in the places you once called home.

You are always on the outside looking in.

You do not trust easily—because you have been burned before.

You crave connection, but you refuse to be vulnerable.

And yet?

You understand people better than they understand themselves.

Because Saturn has forced you to watch, learn, and study them from afar.

And now?

You are the one who holds the strings.

You do not belong to the world—

The world belongs to you.

Saturn in the 12th House: The Cursed, The One Who Will Never Be Free

You carry the weight of a thousand past lives.

A thousand regrets.

A thousand ghosts whispering in your ear.

Saturn in the 12th House means your suffering is ancient.

It does not come from this life alone.

It comes from every life before this one.

You feel haunted, isolated, lost in a world that does not understand you.

You have known betrayal, sacrifice, and the kind of pain that cannot be spoken.

You are drowning in a past you cannot remember—but it remembers you.

But here is your choice:

Will you break the cycle?

Or will you become the ghost that haunts another lifetime?

Because Saturn in the 12th House means your suffering is not a punishment—

It is a test.

And if you can pass it?

You will finally be free..

Saturn is the Master.

But you?

You are the one who gets to decide if you will be its prisoner—

Or its god.

© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved

[cherryyluvs]

thank you so much for your lovely comment and request! 😊 I had a blast writing this Makima!Reader x Invincible fic, I’ve never watched Chainsaw Man, and did 2 variants but I hope I captured her character well! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝⋆˙⟡♡

Mark never knew what to make of you.

From the moment you entered his life, you were a mystery, a force of nature that defied explanation. You weren't just another government agent, you weren't a hero nor a villain, You were something far worse. Cecil had introduced you guys months ago, long before he got to know what you truly were.

You worked closely with the GDA, but your loyalty? It wasn't to humanity. No, your loyalty belonged to yourself.

Mark was new to all this superhero stuff when you first took interest in him, barely coming as invincible. You've watched him, studied him, and when the moment was right you tested him. You treated him like a pet, praising him when he listened.

The way you carried yourself, the way you spoke, everything about you was.. Deliberate. You never raised your voice, never rushed, and never lost control. Even when standing in a bloodied field your expression was eerily calm.

Mark had long since learned to not trust Cecil, he found himself even more wary of you. You had a way of making people listen to you, bending them to your will with nothing but a soft spoken command. Mark witnessed it firsthand, watched trained soldiers and hardened killers fall in line the moment you uttered a word.

The way you'd pat his head after a mission, the way you'd speak to him with that same voice someone might use on a misbehaving dog.

“You're such a good boy mark” you say, voice honey smooth. “But you could be so much better”

Cecil knows you're dangerous, but too useful to ignore. Maybe even he isn't fully in control of you – maybe you let him think he is.

›

Cecil had called every available resource to contain the crisis, but in the end. He knew there was only one person who could turn the tide in their favor. You.

The sky was painted in fire and blood. Shattered buildings, cities, town littered with debris, and bodies of those unfortunate who got caught

The air thick with the scent of blood, smoke, people screaming, some human, some not.

That's why he called you.

Mark stood beside Cecil, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched. “This is a mistake” he muttered. “You think she can just– what? Talk to them into stopping?”

Cecil didn't answer right away, instead he just exhaled through his nose as he pulled out a cigarette. “She’s got it handled Mark”

Mark turned his head and there you stood, calm. The very image of control, even in this chaos you were untouchable.

Your heels clicked softly against the floor as you stepped forward, eyes scanning the screen and images of the battle happening. Mark felt his stomach tighten.

He always hated that look in your eyes, like you weren't human. Like you saw everything and everyone.

“Lets begin”

›

The first variant you encountered was impossible to miss. A cocky smirk, a distinct mohawk, and a wild, unhinged energy that made him unpredictable.

He had a version of you in his word, a dangerous woman who knew just how to break him. He remembers the way she used to whisper his name like it was some secret meant for her alone , or how you dismantled his world. That version of you died in his arms, the light leaving her eyes. And yet, here you are alive.

“What? Got nothing to say to me?” you murmured, titling your head ever so slightly.

His jaw clenched, shit.

Without thinking he lunged, fist ready to strike,

But then your eyes met his

It hit him like a brick wall. The weight of your stare, the sheer force of your presence. His body seized mid motion.

He gritted his teeth. “Dammit”

“I was looking forward to seeing you dead” He spat

“Sit” you replied softly. And he obeyed.

His body dropped to his knees and before he could even think to resist, muscles locking into place like a force was keeping him down.

Eyes widen, mouth slightly parted in shock

You reached out, gentle fingers caressing against his bloodstained cheek. “That's better” you said. “You're not nearly as charming when you're standing”

His hands curled into fists. He hated this, hated that his body had betrayed him. “You're just like her,” He growled, voice lower. “A control freak.”

›

The second to approach was sinister Mark, He landed with a heavy thud, knuckles dripping with blood that wasn't his own, his gaze softening the moment he laid eyes on you.

Ah.. so in his world you had been something more. A partner, a lover, maybe even a weakness he couldn't afford. You walked closer.

He didn't move away. “How did it end?” you asked, voice smooth as silk. “Did I leave? Did i betray you?”

He chuckled. “You're not mine, though she died screaming”

You met his gaze with no fear in sight. “And did you enjoy it?”

His grin widened. Oh, he liked you.

He stepped closer, circling around you like a predator, He didn't resist. He welcomed the control. The weight of your power pressing down on him.

Before his mouth opened, whether to argue or scream, blood burst from his nose and ears.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Body dropping as his breath hitched from the force pulling him to the ground.

For a moment he was silent, then he laughed.

“God you're beautiful”

You crouched beside him, tilting his chin up “I know.”

› By the time the war ended, most of the invincibles had either submitted to you or been wiped from existence.

The survivors? Well lets just say they belonged to you now.

Cecil didn't ask what you planned to do with them. He knew better than to question you.

As for the original mark? He watched you from a distance, his hands clenched at his sides. You had done the impossible, took men who were meant to be unstoppable.. And bent them to your will.

And worst of all?

Somewhere deep down, in the part of himself he refused to acknowledge..

A part of him wanted to kneel too.

[flwrkid14]

Everyone Wants to Be Tim Drake’s Favorite Brother

Being Tim Drake’s favorite isn’t just about bragging rights—it’s about power, perks, and an almost supernatural level of protection.

It starts with the little things. Tim isn’t one for grand gestures, but when he cares about someone, it’s obvious. He listens—really listens—to the small comments, the things others might forget. That offhand remark about a snack you miss? Tim’s already on his way to get it for you. Complaining that your suit’s not fitting quite right? Tim’s hands-on with upgrades by morning. If you're Tim’s favorite, it’s a constant stream of thoughtful gestures. Gear gets upgraded, favorite books and gadgets mysteriously show up, and Tim’s always thinking of how he can make your life easier.

But being Tim’s favorite is more than just gifts. It’s the way Tim treats you, the way he prioritizes you over everything else. Tim listens when you vent, has your back during arguments, even when you’re wrong, and somehow—somehow—he gets Bruce to listen to you more than anyone else.

Bruce listens to everyone, of course. He’s the Bat. But when Tim speaks, it’s different. Bruce doesn’t just hear Tim—he acts. Whether it’s adjusting mission plans, reevaluating tactics, or considering Gotham’s crime trends. He’ll mention something, and suddenly, Bruce is shifting his approach. No one else seems to have that pull over him. Tim has a way of cutting through Bruce’s stubbornness that no one else can match. It’s not lost on anyone that when you’re Tim’s favorite, Bruce seems to listen to you more, too.

And then, there’s the most dangerous perk of all: Tim’s wrath.

Everyone in Gotham has learned to fear the consequences of hurting anyone Tim cares about. They all remember how Janet Drake, Tim’s mother, was exactly the same. Janet didn’t just love fiercely; she made people fear the consequences of betraying her affection. She’d build strong alliances and maintain an iron grip on them, ensuring no one dared to harm those she called her own. She had a reputation for turning the tables in ways that left lasting marks on Gotham’s criminals, so it’s no surprise that Tim inherited the same instincts. The last time one of his favorites got hurt in Gotham, the Rogue responsible learned the hard way that crossing a Drake isn’t something you do lightly. That night, the Rogue barely escaped with his life, and the damage he caused was felt across Gotham for weeks.

The rumors from that time still make the rounds. Red Robin hunted that Rogue down, dismantling supply lines and ruining their operations in ways no one else could, using connections no one could have anticipated for him to have. He sent a message—a warning—one that still echoes through Gotham’s criminal world. After that, the Rogues were far more cautious when it came to hurting anyone Red Robin seemed particularly attached to.

These days, the Rogues are more careful. If they can see who Tim’s favorite is, they back off. Patrols get easier. The punches are pulled. The threats don’t carry the same weight. It's almost comical. Once, Jason caught Riddler mid-riddle and swore he saw him glance over his shoulder like he was checking for something—and then mutter, “Not worth it,” before retreating.

Of course, everyone’s gotten a taste of these perks at some point.

Jason remembers his time as Tim’s favorite. When he first came back, Tim went above and beyond. His gear was upgraded constantly, his safehouses were restocked with his favorite things, and there were custom modifications to everything. Tim even managed to reclaim all his old safehouses from the GCPD archives with no problem. Jason never openly admitted it, but he savored every moment. It felt good to be cared for like that.

Cass had it too when she struggled to reconnect with the family. Tim stuck close, quietly offering his support—whether it was with training or just sitting together. She didn’t ask for a suit upgrade, just mentioned how bulky it was in passing, and Tim designed a new one for her the following week, fitting it perfectly to her style. And as for the Rogues? They couldn't run away fast enough when she showed up.

Right now, they all suspect Duke to be the favorite. Tim’s always inviting him to collaborate on tech projects or sharing valuable intel. And Duke has started receiving gifts that seem to show up at just the right moment—books, custom gadgets, and even the occasional throwback cereal he mentioned in passing. Tim’s also been there for him every step of the way, making sure he’s always in the loop, collaborating on projects, and taking the time to make Duke feel seen.

“You know,” Duke said one night, stirring his soup casually, “Scarecrow’s been weirdly quiet lately.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Jason said with a raised eyebrow. “What did you do?”

Duke blinked. “Nothing.”

Jason shot Tim a look. “What did you do?”

Tim’s smirk was all the answer Jason needed.

And that’s the thing—being Tim’s favorite isn’t just about attention or gear. It’s about something more. It’s about protection. Once you’re Tim’s favorite, the world seems like it can’t touch you. And everyone knows it.

They’ve all had their time as Tim’s favorite. Jason, Cass, even Damian had his moment. But once you’re no longer the favorite, it’s hard not to crave it again.

Jason lingers in the Batcave, pretending to talk about his gear but subtly hinting at upgrades Tim could add to it.

Damian scoffs at the idea of being prioritized, but Tim catches him comparing his gear to Duke’s own, new and improved gear, muttering to himself, “It’s adequate,” like it’s an insult.

Dick tries to remain above it all—he’s the eldest, after all. He doesn’t need Tim’s attention. But when he sees Tim working behind the scenes, tinkering with Duke’s gear or offering an unexpected assist to Jason, there’s that ache of longing for when he was the center of Tim’s world.

In the end, they’ll never say it, but every single one of them secretly wants to be Tim’s favorite. Because when Tim Drake decides you’re his favorite, you’re not just cared for—you’re protected and given an unwavering loyalty that makes you feel untouchable in Gotham.

And in Gotham, where danger is always close, nothing is more powerful than the protection and devotion of a Drake.

[joycrispy]

I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.

Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."

Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.

Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.

Something like this:

We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--

--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.

But it turns out he was this:

!!!

With his curly little--!!

And his neat white--!!

IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:

"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."

(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)

In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.

In sum...an innocent.

(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.

We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.

Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)

So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--

*checks notes*

--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.

...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.

All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?

He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.

That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...

...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.

Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."

And what reason does he give?

("I know you."

"You do not know me."

"I know the angel you were.")

What does that tell us about who he was? Is?

("The angel you knew is not me."

But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)

tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.

'Innocence died screaming' and all that.