I'm A Degenerate

The thirsty abyss, and other fandoms I decide to hyperfixate on. Currently Sanders Sides.

[ploompkin]

People in a fandom who don’t post art/fics, but who reblog/like/follow/otherwise support artists and creators, my beloveds

If artists are the backbone of a fandom, then you all are the muscles. Connecting everyone and everything. Spreading fun and whimsy. That’s real neat, I think

I adore you all so much

[poltergeistdaughter]

if you don’t believe in dryhumping + making out + being handsy before the sex then do not hmu

[frune-ei]

Kept messing around w these three

[suspicioushare]

How it feels when you try to find a fanfic where the MC/reader isn't a white tiny woman, who for some reason isn't capable of intelligent thoughts and just keeps crying and following the ML/romantic interest like she is a child who keeps needing saving and crying

She is also either tiny and small or "chubby" (it's not chubby it's literally just the same white girl with huge breasts and big ass and thighs)

[freakincagecom]

bully fanart i guess

[horrorhare]

COME OUT AND PLAY

[jimothy-hopkins]

This is so well done I LOVE it!

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[dem0nyo]

80s metal hair set RAAAHHH

happy pride month! i'm back and i have six more hairstyles to share, this time inspired by dudes that give me gender envy 💀 this is another set that's been a WIP since last year but i finally got around to working on it THANK GOD

there might be a part 2 in the future

BGC

teen - elder

all genders, all frames

just 24 EA swatches this time, i lost my PSD so will probably add new swatches later. do feel free to recolor!

hat compatible

all LODs, all maps

✧ DOWNLOAD - Patreon (freeee) | SFS ✧

thank you for the support, lmk of any issues! <3 more info under the cut

⚠ high poly warning for these ⚠!!! i took inspiration from 3 thrash metal dudes and 3 glam metal dudes. admittedly i'm more into thrash but glam's aesthetics are so iconic. i could've gone for more teased hairstyles but save that for next time maybe

Peace Sells (18964 polys)

i made this like 3 other times but this is the one i liked the most! and no this is NOT Dave Mustaine lol (i just like redheads and long haired men)

Battery (16402 polys)

i modeled this from scratch so it's a little different. also, i realized the textures were a bit desaturated after taking these screenshots but dw i went back and edited them

Whiplash (16303 polys)

No Mercy (15816 polys)

Youth Gone Wild (14471 polys)

idk why but this one gave me the most trouble

Wild Side (16543 polys)

probably my favorite out of all of them. wish my hair looked like this irl everyday

[marttapav]

The Viltrum Empire needs YOU 🫵🏽

[marttapav]

The Viltrum Empire needs YOU 🫵🏽

[marttapav]

wip 🤤

[marttapav]

conquest wip might finish, might not.... need that old man bad

[santaranha]

"I am a victim of my own success." - Conquest

[freeandiwill]

It’s so easy to forget about

When you think about

[tokoyamisstuff]

Imagine holding Conquest as he finally allows himself to cry.

TW: toxic masculinity, violent thoughts, mental illness

This literal behemoth being reduced to a trembling, weeping mess mess as he clings onto you for dear life.

He'd just lie there, not daring to move a muscle since he is terrified of his own strenght, the mere possibility of accidentally hurting you. Gripping your clothes, almost ripping them apart in his desperate need to be even closer, but he's too afraid that if he touches your actual body you'd break under his touch.

The way he winces and shivers each time you touch his face, wiping his tears away and whisper sweet affirmations his way, shower him with words of encouragement and praise and affection.

This man would be so cautious in his inexperience with gentleness, not quite trusting himself as a shaky palm hovers over your cheek, barely gracing it before anxiously pulling away. He'd adore every detail of your face as if he's committing it to memory, like he doubts you're actually real and not just a pleasant dream his strickened mind had conjured after eons of loneliness.

He wants to say something, anything, but the only sounds escaping his throat are uncontrollable little sobs and hiccups. It feels so pathetic, downright wrong to allow himself to be this vulnerable, and yet at the same time who would've thought it'd be this freeing?

To finally be seen for what he truly is, or rather could be. Not merely tolerated, accepted at best, but wanted. It's overwhelming, so much better than he could've ever imagined but also so, so terrifying since his former state of being is all he ever knew.

For a moment he considers snapping your neck, no, choke you and watch life drain from your eyes to regain his dignity. Clinging to your corpse for as long as it stays warm and then leave it all behind.

Instead he kisses you. Sloppy, demanding, almost devouring you in his exasperation.

All his existence he was caged by imaginary limitations, but you made him realize the door was never truly locked...

...all he needed was for someone to lure him out.

[jnw1813]

Courtship

The many ways Conquest courts you, feat. Viltrumite headcanons. No warnings except mentions of violence and a dead moose.

Upon coming to the startling realisation that he saw you as mate material and wanted you that way, Conquest had been mentally reviewing all previous interactions, seeing them in a new light.

And now that he officially lived with you, he needed to take things up a notch and properly court you. How else was he supposed to get you to agree to be his mate?

… which was easier said than done. See, Viltrumite courtship rituals– back when Viltrumites still courted each other to have partners and not just to mate– are… specific and hard to do when one half of the courting pair… can't do them.

Viltrumite courtship rituals have changed throughout the ages before falling out of favour, as even the simple act of having a committed partner to rely on and be loyal to was deemed a weakness– something about how it would cause attachment, which, obviously. But before they did, however, there were a good few steps to proper courtship.

The first step was, of course, making one's intentions known. This was done bluntly and honestly.

—

"What's the term humans use when they're seeing each other romantically, again?" Conquest asks abruptly.

"Dating." You answer simply, still doing your own thing.

He hums, nods, then says, "I want to date you."

You choke on your spit.

—

Hold their opponent down for a full twenty-five minutes,

The second step was– not all that surprising, really– battle. If a Viltrumite was going to take someone as a partner, they needed to make sure who they'd potentially be mating with wasn't a complete and utter weakling. And so a duel would occur from sunrise to sunset, the two Viltrumites giving it their all. If the approaching person (the one who proposed the courtship in the first place) managed to:

Knock them unconscious,

Break all their limbs,

or

then they'll have proved their strength to the other and everyone else.

—

Which, obviously, Conquest couldn't do with you.

He looked at you as he mulled it over, eyeing your arms, your legs, eye sweeping over other parts calculatingly.

If Conquest even flicked you on the forehead, you'd die.

Yeah, battling is off the table.

It's not like he needed to prove his strength to you anyway.

—

The third step was more common and expected: acts of service, proof they could provide to their mate, and future young. Back before Viltrumites just took what they wanted from each other and only mated for offspring, this was a necessary step as, even then, it was every Viltrumite for themselves (except when it came to outside 'threats'– then the whole empire would unite). So, this show of effort and care meant a lot. Especially since, again, back then, Viltrumite couples did stay together for the agreed upon duration– which could just be until their offspring grew to adulthood or even go on indefinitely. It depended on the couple, truly.

—

And this was the step you had fulfilled immaculately since the very beginning. Caring, polite, providing for him, talking to him and hearing, listening to what he was truly saying; the food you fed him as rich as ambrosia, the moments of play and fun as fulfilling as staining his fists with the blood of a strong enemy, the simple moments of domestic bliss simply spent in one another's vicinity easing something cold in his chest.

Yes, you've fulfilled your end of this courtship ritual and have proven yourself more than worthy of him.

Now it's time Conquest proves himself worthy of you.

The thing about Conquest is that he's a quick learner. Sure, he's better at adapting to a fight and learning a new opponent's physiology and abilities than anything else, but in the end, it's all the same.

He sees. He learns. He adapts. Not always in that order, but you get the point.

So when you complain about your tap leaking? He looks up tutorials online– the human's Internet being one of the more impressive parts of their technology if he's being honest. So much stuff, and it's not even all useful!– and, once you've left the house, he gets to work.

Gentle, he reminds himself, gentle. He uses a scanner he'd retrieved from his ship (hiding on the dark side of the moon for the time being) to find exactly where the issue was and then assess it himself. A simple fix, from what he's researched.

It's fixed in less than ten minutes. He almost finds himself disappointed, for some reason having expected it to be more difficult, to require more strength, to not need such a delicate touch from him.

Hmm.

He goes in search of more things to do.

The house has a fireplace; he spends a good twenty minutes outside chopping wood for it. He finds he likes the feel of an axe in his hands, even if he can do it with his bare hands. It's oddly fun and satisfying.

You have a few bird feeders hanging around, so he tops them up. Then he checks your garden, plucking a grasshopper off of your young lemon tree. He flicks it into space. Then, almost humiliatingly, he finds himself tidying up. Even as he makes sure your home is clean and warm for your return, he wants more. This isn't enough! These are common tasks! Not fit for courtship!

But what else is there? As much as he's learned about you and humans in general so far, there is still so much he doesn't know. And how can he appropriately prove himself if he doesn't know what you lack for?

But Viltrumites are blunt. Viltrumites are straightforward. Viltrumites aren't cowards.

Conquest ain't a damn coward.

So he asks.

"C'mon, darlin'." He exhales in frustration. "There must be something you want! You've been doing all sorts of things for me. Let me do something for you now!"

You'd already rejected his offer a few times, claiming you had all you needed and that you couldn't ask him for anything.

Pah, humans and their customs! What, did you feel guilty at the thought of asking for something? At the possibility of being a burden? You were going to be his mate, ask him for stardust for all he cares! He'll get it for you, just– please, ask him to do something, anything!

Conquest hates feeling useless. And that's how he feels right now. Because despite how you thank him, despite how praises fall from your lips and make his heart ache, it's not enough. He doesn't just want to make you happy with these acts. He wants to awe you. He wants to surprise you. He wants to shock you.

He feels frustrated that he just can't. He wants to hit something, but shockingly, doesn't want you to see it, see him, as a brute. So he swallows his frustration and thinks.

What can he do for you that you can't refuse, that'll mean the world to you, that'll prove he's the perfect mate for you?

The answer comes when you make a random comment under your breath about how much everything costs. It makes something ding! in his brain and Conquest is quick to go, leaving you with a quick promise he'd be back soon and a brief kiss on your head.

Oh-ho, this was going to be perfect! He was damn near giggling with how excited he was! Flying into deep space, he shot off, eager to fix this little issue human society had forced upon all its people.

Within the human's own solar system were quite a few planets with some interesting things to be found. Such as gemstones. More specifically, diamonds.

Rare and expensive on earth, but on Neptune and Uranus?

Conquest grinned, beginning to collect some at random. Oh, you'd be so happy!

—

A few hours later, you stared at the large clump with wide eyes, stunned.

"I…"

Conquest preened.

"This enough to have you living comfortably?" He asks, like he didn't just deliver five diamonds the size of bowling balls to your house.

"... yeah." You said, feeling faint. "Yeah, this– yeah." You say, voice sounding high and pinched. God, this– you needed to be careful, lest you crash the economy!

While you were worrying, Conquest just looked proud, all puffed up and feeling satisfied he'd dealt with such a big issue for you.

—

While you figured out how to sell the diamond (only one) without crashing the economy, Conquest sought out other ways to impress his mate-to-be. 

He got his answer while checking the food supply.

Sifting through your freezer, he finds it lacking in meat. There's a bunch of pre-made meals, packets of vegetables, and way too much ice cream, but not a lot of meat.

Conquest seeks to fix that.

Which leads to you coming outside after hearing a loud thud, and nearly shrieking in surprise because there's a fucking dead moose on your doorstep.

Your eyes are wide as you look from the carcass to your… something.

"Conquest! What the actual fuck." 

He stood with his hands on his hips, looking proud. "What? Don't you like meat?" He asks, gesturing to the body and– and…

You sigh. "Yes, but… God, is this even legal? I'm not sure hunting moose is fine…" Not that there were any moose near where you lived. Just how far had he gone to hunt for you? If it wasn't so shocking, you'd be flattered.

…

No, you were definitely flattered. How could you not be, when Conquest had spent the last week doing so much for you?

Conquest watched you patiently as you clearly mulled something over. His expression softened a bit as you walked past his newest gift, coming to a stop before him.

He arched his brow, heart oddly speeding up. "Darlin'?" He asks, uncharacteristically soft. But he was getting used to it, getting used to the way he was beginning to soften his hard edges for you, make himself something more than just a weapon of conquest.

He was moulding himself into the perfect mate for you, somebody that actually deserved you, even if it was difficult for him to do so.

You break the silence, shifting your weight from foot to foot, looking up at him with those mesmerising eyes of yours.

"You said you wanted to date me. Is everything you've been doing a form of… courtship?" You ask, needing to be sure; needing it to be stated plainly.

He inclines his head. "They have been, yes."

You take a breath, feeling… unbalanced, flustered in a way you haven't been before. You've never…

"Well then." With a smile, you reach for his hand, bringing it up to your lips. Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, you give him a soft look, hoping you convey your growing affection for this alien man clearly. "I accept."

Conquest's expression becomes one of sheer joy and pride, grin wide and happy. You shouldn't be surprised when he picks you up and hugs you, but you are, yelping as he (gently) squeezes you.

Laughing, you hug him back, not expecting a display of affection like that from him, but… maybe you've had more of an effect on him than you initially thought.

"Though… please don't bring me any more dead things." You tell him with a slight grimace. "The grocery store is literally five minutes away."

Conquest practically purred when he hummed in response. "No promises."

You sigh. "I'm dating a damn cat." You mutter, idly wondering how you're going to deal with his 'gift' to you.

Hopefully Conquest knew how to field dress animals. You certainly did not.

[moondeetoo]

CONTENT WARNING: GORE.

The air is heavy, a thick, metallic soup of ozone and hot copper that clings to the back of your throat. It’s the smell of a slaughterhouse mid summer cloying, wet, and inescapable.

Conquest towers over you, a mountain of scarred, trembling muscle. He isn’t the composed soldier of the Empire anymore; he is a man coming apart at the seams, his single eye wide and frantic, darting as if searching for a killing blow that never arrives. He looks less like a conqueror and more like a last standing warrior that refuses to die.

He breathes in ragged, wet hitches, the sound of air whistling through a punctured lung. With a violent, jerky motion, his cybernetic hand twitches, buried deep into the chest of the Viltrumite sprawled at his feet. There is a sickening squelch the sound of suction and snapping bone....and then he pulls.

He holds it out to you.

It is massive, purples slicked, and still fighting to beat. It pulses in his grip, spraying a rhythmic, hot mist against his crocked bared teeth as he smiles. It’s a terrifying, jagged expression that doesn't reach his eye.

"Look at it,"

he rasps, his voice a gravelly ruin.

"I took the best of him for you. That’s how we... that's how it starts. The courting. You take the life, you offer the strength. You show them you can provide the only thing that matters in this hollow galaxy...Death."

He leans in, the stench of old sweat and fresh viscera blooming around you. His hand shakes not from the weight of the organ, but from the sheer, vibrating instability of a mind that has seen too many centuries and survived too many executions and is somehow SO excited to see you react.

"Do you like it?"

he whispers, a desperate, pathetic edge bleeding into his dominance.

"In the old days... the real days,"

He begins, his voice a scorched-earth rasp that vibrates in your own chest. "This was the start. The courting ritual. You don't bring flowers to a Viltrumite. You bring proof that you are the apex. You bring the life force of a rival to show you can protect what is yours."

​He steps closer, the heat radiating from his blood soaked skin hitting you in waves. He’s shaking, a violent, micro-vibration of muscles that have known only war for a thousand years. His face is a mask of jagged scars and fresh, steaming wetness, but his expression remains a terrifying, wide smile, excited at the ever sight of you.

​"Do you see the strength in it?"

He asks, his gaze searching yours with a desperate, terrifying intensity. "I took it for you. I offer it as a gift. It’s the only currency I have left. I’ve looked for someone to do the same to me, you know? I’ve stood before the strongest we have, begging them to reach in and find my center. To end the monotony."

​He lets out a short, barking laugh that sounds like grinding stones. There is no moisture in his eye, no softness in his features....only a bleak, terrifying void.

​"But they couldn't. I'm still here. I’m always still here."

He stands there, a bloody ruin of a man offering you a trophy of a war he’s forgotten why he’s fighting, waiting for you to validate the carnage of his existence. He looks at you with a terrifying, soulful hunger—not for love, but for an end.

"TAKE IT. ACCEPT ME."