i am a furry (and a massive simp) whos intrests vary between several fandoms.
>>Currently Hyperfixtating on: Beastars, My hero academia, MCYT/ Hermitcraft, Trolls, DHMIS, gravity falls, undertale/deltarune/all the aus that come with the ut fandom, Mystic Messenger, so much anime, COD, Trigun<<
pfp made by my online bestie: @tacticalanklebiter3000
shoot me a message or an ask anytime you want!
ASK GAME: send me a few photos of your dog and ill try to guess the breed/ breeds they might be.
(please include a photo of your dog standing next to a common item so i can size compare, and good lighting so i can see coat colour well)
COMMISSION ME!: ill draw a little doodle of your dog or fursona for 5$ (must have cashapp) (maybe ill eventually open real commissions)
Update: I plan to open real commissions sometime soon!
(Just need to put a portfolio together)
:D thanks for reading! enjoy my chaotic unorganized blog
(i just repost a bunch of shit all day with the occasional vent post)
I think the funniest thing Toby Fox could do is not have Papyrus show up in Deltarune at all and then in the post credits after you you beat the game you'd see a message appear that says "you can now play with Papyrus" and then he'd be retroactively inserted into every single chapter like some kind of new game+
So many buttons. I want to make vrchat stuff, if i figure it out ill open coms, same with fursuit stuff. Im getting better. I wanna be at a good spot before i sell stuff.
Imagine biting sonar as a form of affection. ft reader's own oral fixation. mdni.
Okay, so maybe Sonar’s not the only one with an oral fixation.
It’s an unexpected benefit that you had the forethought not to give him any shit about his thing with boobs. Turns out you’re not much fucking better. Now that you’ve bothered to think about it, this is certainly not a new behavior. It's just that he’s the first boyfriend you’ve had who didn’t bitch and moan and complain about the—well, the biting.
No, uh, in fact, Sonar seems to be pretty damn into it.
It starts off slow as these things often do. You get comfortable, settle in, stop thinking so much about quirks that seem a little strange and just sort of let ‘er rip. Sonar certainly takes a no holds barred approach to physical affection which makes it all the more simple to give in to your reciprocal urges.
He’s sitting with you on the couch the first time it happens. You’re not even really conscious of it. His head is buried right between your breasts—his signature position—suckling at a mouthful of tit when you feel more than hear the inquisitive hum against your skin. When Sonar pulls away with a wet little pop, suddenly your mouth is very empty and the tip of his right ear is soaked with spit.
“Did you just bite me?”
He asks it like he’s asking what you want for dinner. Casual, like it doesn’t matter either way, he just wants to know.
“Yeah, I guess so. Sorry?” you reply, but he shrugs, more interested in going back to laving over your nipple with his tongue.
A moment later though, his ear’s flicking across your face tickling the skin on your cheek until your lips part again and draw it in. Your teeth scrap lightly against the thin, sensitive skin membrane, front teeth dragging on the fur. Sonar grunts and happily carries on mouthing at you while you try not to think too hard on how satisfying it feels to tense your jaw, increase the pressure by increments and relax. The restless itch to fidget you’re often plagued by subsides, soothed by something to occupy your teeth and tongue.
It’s sort of a slippery slope after that.
Much to your surprise, Sonar continues to remain unphased when you start ramping things up. Giving in rather than trying to curb the habit of getting in a bite or two as the opportunity presents itself.
When you’re out for the weekend, stopping at the farmer’s market and grabbing a latte you nip thoughtlessly at the back of his hand while perusing artisanal loaves. In the office, he’s often sporting a small damp patch at the edge of one ear where you’ve mouthed at it from over the cubicle wall while he’s doing paperwork. It’s…nice. The mindlessness of it, being able to indulge in the calming compulsion to sink your teeth into skin. It makes something warm twist and writhe in your chest that he doesn’t rip his hand away. Let’s you run your tongue over his knuckles, bite softly at the delicate joints.
And at home, when you’re blissfully alone, that particular vice has crept slowly but surely into your bed.
“Do it harder,” he frequently whines, all pitchy and soft by your ear while you work through the fur of his neck and work your blunt teeth against the skin that almost never gets touched.
You’re more than happy to oblige as he cants his hips up into yours where you’re riding him, pinning him down by the throat while you gnaw at his exposed skin. Finally you get a good opening, sinking in and letting your jaw tighten. The satisfaction rolls through you while you suck a bruise that’ll stay all safe and hidden under his grey locks.
Just enough for him to feel the ache.
Sonar squirms, tilting his head to expose more vulnerable skin while both his hands find your hips, feet planted on the mattress to thrust up in a sloppy rhythm that’s got the headboard slamming against the wall. When you finally feel yourself cresting that peak, you groan against his skin, sink your teeth in hard enough to taste copper as every muscle in your body locks up and releases all at once.
It’s a rush, especially when he lets out one of those choked up chirps and slams up into you once more before letting himself go inside.
You rest like that for a while, unlatching from the sore patch on his throat in favor of letting your teeth gently rest around the human skin at his shoulder, soothing that restlessness in your limbs.
Sonar sighs happily, pets up and down your spine. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him press against the shallow wound on his neck and shiver. That warm thing in your chest purring at the sight.
So yeah, you definitely get it now—why he’s got such a thing for stealing a taste of you.
There’s no flavor in the world like it. Nothing else that satisfies the itch. Just like that, you’re hooked. Thank god there’s no end to this particular supply. So many inches of skin unblemished, all waiting for you to take a bite.
Here's a kink headcanon for Sonar. I don't know if I'm alone in this, but I feel like he's equal part masochist and sadist. Stepping, spanking, scratching/cutting, biting, ect, ALL on the table! Doesn't matter who's receiving, and who's giving to him. Also perhaps participates in some mild blood play too
ehehehehehehe please imagine me rubbing my hands together like an mad scientist I absolutely agree
More expansion on Sonar and his pain kink under the cut (mdni, 18+)
I've touched quite a lot on Sonar and what is essentially primal play I suppose but more like I assume some of the animal instincts carry over for him. It doesn't seem that far a stretch to assume that pain might play a role in arousal for him either. Or that he likes to get as good as he gives. When y'all get going--really get going--it's no holds barred, all teeth and claws and he wants those blunt little humie canines trying to break skin anywhere you can get an opening. The taste of copper on his lips settles something in him he doesn't often feel satisfied.
He loves that you let him, loves that you rake those blunt nails through his fur while he trails a claw down your belly and watches the glass bead drops of blood pool on your skin. Maybe it's really about the trust of it all, but the pain just gives a special little edge to the pleasure of sinking himself into you until you're creaming and crying and begging for more.
do u ever think about sonar with a blood kink either you're injured or you're on your period or just the fact that he can pierce your skin sooo easily with those sharp fangs and marvel at the blood pulsing through you........ oughhhhh he's my favourite freak 😭😭
oh boy do I think about it :)))))
I feel up until now I've been fairly tame with my thirsting, but like really one of the major draws about Sonar to me is big ass sexy monster bat. And I just know he gets a little high off the kind of power he has over your fragile human body. Particularly, the fact that you let him have it is even more intoxicating.
Maybe it's an accident, when you're fooling around and he bites just a little too hard. There's a sudden sting at the crook of your neck followed by a strange rush, a sweeping feeling in your stomach. Like dropping off the precipice into free fall. Something winged swooping down at the last second to save you. There's a warmth, a trickling sensation that dips all the way down between your breasts.
And Victor's all shushing "No, baby, I promise I didn't mean it."
But his eyes are flashing red as his nose flares and catches that copper scent in the air.
"Let me kiss it better."
His tongue it hot as it follows the crimson trail back up to it's source, laves over the wound. You certainly don't feel him press his lips together, hold you tighter, suck at the skin to draw more out.
You'd make a joke, low hanging fruit that he's proving all that Dracula shit right, except your head is all hazy. There's a weightlessness taking over, a high of some kind that grows the longer Sonar drinks from you.
And later, when he's got you all bent over under him, he just can't help it. Has to dig his nails in, watch fine scratches form over the skin at your hips, see the blood well up like pretty glass beads on a string.
Loves the look of them after, half healed and peaking out over your waistband. Loves that people might see.
God and if you're on your period?
He'll never tell you, but he can smell it. The metal tang that starts to follow you, let's him gauge when it's prime time for eating.
But first, he just sorta wants to watch. Likes to see the red splotches on your thighs, the thick blood gushing out, dripping little stains on the sheets.
If you ever ask what exactly it is he likes so much about you, flayed open, he'd never be able to put it in words.
Maybe it's just that animal thing in the base of his skull that smells iron on the air and urges him to devour. So, he'll let his tongue slither out, lash against the swollen, tender flesh between your thighs. He's got a hand on your belly, warm palm sweet relief from the contractions.
Sonar get's especially close when you're like this, has your hips propped up and your lower half as far in his mouth as possible. Those fangs pressed right up to the skin, threatening little pricks with every squirm and wriggle.
He's fighting off the urge to let the beast over take--that voice that says you're his sweet little human to drink from whenever he wants.
