#⊹ ࣪ ˖ 🦇 ⸝⸝ . ask

[daily-spooky]

Thank you for making this blog

My pleasure

[bucknastysbabe]

For king aeg and his smutty angst...

What about a forced/arranged marriage (potentially a team black lady/princess kept by the greens and made to marry aeg?). Of course, she absolutely supports the blacks and therefore hates aegon and the greens. But it's their wedding night, they have to 'do their duty', right?

Brain didn't really come up with anything more than that. It's basically hate sex 😂

ℜ𝔢𝔡 𝔅𝔢𝔡𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 - 𝔄𝔢𝔤𝔬𝔫 ℑℑ 𝔵 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔣-𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

I FINALLY DID IT BABY I HIPEBYOU ENJOY MWAH MWAH MWAH MOTHER LANA ILY AND YOUR GOOD VIBES ALWAYS❤️

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: TW//blood play, Degredation, rough handling, Aegon being a fuckhead, some fighting from her, attempted murder, very toxic. Time skips, Consensual sex, pnv!sex, tiddy sucking, FERAL👹, arranged marriage, tb reader

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemondfairy @arcielee @dr-aegon @elaratyrell @fairysluna @jamespotterismydaddy @jacesvelaryons @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @targaryen-madness @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose

Divider creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

You were a hostage by law. You were the younger sister of Rhaenyra. Barely made it past a day when your mother died in the birthing bed while a tourney went on, the Maester’s sure you were to be the boy so dreadfully sought after.

Your sister fought for you to be married elsewhere, perhaps a Celtigar or another Velaryon. Viserys had his mind set on uniting his two different lines of progeny.

Therefore you were betrothed to Aegon, born a mere two years after you. It wasn’t on the forefront of your mind as a child, shadowing Rhaenyra for comfort. In a way, she was the motherly figure you had lost. That was more important than some silly thing that would occur far, far away.

Soon she reached her wedding when you were nine. Life grew tumultuous after that. The ever-present Ser Criston was gone and soon replaced by Laenor and Ser Harwin. Rhaenyra had her first child, Jacaerys. You remember holding him and cooing. He was perfect, yet you were not dumb, the babe’s dark hair was frighteningly similar to Ser Harwin's.

By your six and tenth nameday— you faced being surrounded by your other side of the family, aptly named the Greens for their colors of Hightower. After the tragic fight at Driftmark, Alicent quickly sequestered you off. You had wept and torn at your dresses, Ser Criston holding you back with a stiff arm and stiffer face. Your full blood, the only true connection, left on ships and dragons. Your father didn’t seem to even care, too sickly and worn down.

You’d spat at Alicent, “I hate you.”

She shook her head and sighed, “In due time you will thank me. You’ll be a queen.”

Shoving yourself off of Ser Cole, you glared at the man. He spoke, quiet but brutal, “Consider yourself lucky staying back. Wouldn’t want to get caught up in other affairs.” He earned a sharp retort, to which the queen scoffed and you stormed off.

Alone. To be utterly alone.

That was what the next few months encompassed. You were a ghost in a lively keep. Aegon began to peek his unkempt blonde hair around the same time, the prince growing into a young man. He’d already gained a reputation for an insatiable thirst for wine and women— at the mere age of fourteen.

“So will you be eager to bed me? I have quite the experience,” he said. Aegon sat sprawled on the settee across from your seat, nursing some wine. You raised a brow from your needlepoint and hissed, “Oh yes, of course, I cannot wait to have your Flea Bottom-infested cock within my pristine cunt.”

He snorted, red wine dribbling down his plump lips. Aegon grinned, seemingly not phased by your insult. The prince hummed, “How sweet. I’m saying it now, you’ll come to love it.” A rip tore through the air— startling you both. Your eyes peered down at the needlepoint. You’d grown so annoyed you ripped the fine fabric.

Eyes flicking up to Aegon you barked, “Out of here! Now!”

He scurried away, giggling, promising, “Our wedding is going to be fantastic, my lovely blackened heart!”

You grimaced, standing up to dust your gray dress off. Rhaenyra had kept a line of letter with you— urging you to kill Aegon in his sleep or abscond to Dragonstone. Peering at the unstable, absolutely lethal Ser Criston Cole standing outside your door, those options seemed impossible.

You were well aware of the threat Aegon held to the claim as the heir. The Hightowers were pushing it into every corner they could, pulling strings, lining coats with Lannister gold. Perhaps once you married the idiot, things would be different.

Using your body and status to change the outcome of a disputed throne seemed too silly. Hatred and frustration began to boil within you from that day forward. To the Seven Hells with your father and the green-blooded Hightower children. You hoped the Stranger would take Alicent and her loyal armed dog too.

Nyserion was in the dragon pit. You never got to see your mount. The queen knew you'd escape if possible. He waited for you, you could feel that much.

No.

You'd not flee.

To face your fate whether in victory or flames was a source of pride. You'd marry the whoreson, be the good princess, and wait for the time to come. You would not be overtly kind, but you’d come off as subdued, no longer the biggest threat to their plans. You would walk the line.

Your hatred for Aegon grew as time wore on in the Red Keep. The wedding had arrived. You remained stone cold kissing Aegon and taking your vows. Aegon was now eight and ten. The lanky boy had grown into a handsome, yet sulky and difficult man. He recently chopped his hair off, another sign of rebellion.

You could understand wanting to be far away. Emptiness filled your chest when the red and black cloak of yours was covered with green and gold. Rhaenyra performed the sacred act, tears in her violet eyes. Your father was too weary to do the damn thing he declared so long ago.

Aegon had whispered, “I hate this too, you know.”

“Good.”

Then the bells rang and you two were back to the mummer’s farce. Smiling and waving getting into the carriage, the small folk cheering- tilting your stomach. Aegon’s face morphed into that sullen look he carried around when he was sober. You slumped back against the cushions, sighing.

His violet eyes bore into your pale blue ones. Aegon sniffed, “I expect to be bedding you tonight. It is my right now.” Crossing your arms, you looked out of the small window. The prince cleared his throat, waiting for an answer.

“As is my duty, lord husband,” you sneered.

Aegon giggled— that annoying shriek of his. You lashed out, “Glad that is an entertaining topic for you. Go back to your whores once you've done the deed.”

“Maybe. I have to make sure I get an heir off of you. Gods forbid you're anything like your mother.”

Your vision went red, hopping across the wheelhouse to scratch and claw and scream at Aegon. He gasped in surprise, catching some nails across his pale throat, a part of his hair ripped out. The prince forced you down, holding your arms tight to your chest. He frowned, eyes filled with something.

“I’m sorry, okay, relax, we have to finish this night. Relax!”

You didn’t want to cry, yet the tears fell as you warbled, “You’re cruel. Have some shame.”

He sighed, blonde hair a mess now. Aegon gently helped you back into your seat, ordering you to stay put. He knelt beside you, a big hand touching your shaky knee. Aegon’s eyes seemed to hold some guilt as he murmured, “That was wrong. I…apologize…wife.”

The rest of the ride went in silence, Aegon retreating to his side, poorly attempting to reshape his waves. Neither of you smiled entering the keep to be presented to everyone. The first dance was a boring affair, you found no reason for happiness. Rhaenyra was the only boon, her hugging you and speaking words of revenge.

“You shall have whoever you wish. He will not be your source of unhappiness. When I am queen.”

You blocked out the rest of her words, milling over the idea of Viserys dead— Aegon being thrust upon the throne. It would be war, all-out war. Nodding blankly, you hugged your sister once again to head back to the table, heart beginning to beat fast.

Aegon was slouched back in his chair, eyes lazily roving around the dancing. He was quite drunk, slurring as he spoke. The prince asked, “Y’wanna finish this shit?”

“Make the call,” you replied.

The drunken prince stood up and roared, “It’s time for the fucking!”

Men cheered, and women squealed. Rhaenyra was held tight by Daemon— his face placid. Alicent was embarrassed by the crass wording, a ringed hand covering her face. Soon men lifted and tore at your clothes, exposing you horridly. Aegon laughed as the ladies rid him of his garments.

The pair of you were thrust into his dark chambers. You bounced once from the way they tossed you, grunting in pain. The feeling of handprints and raw skin sent a shudder down your spine. Aegon flopped onto the bed, mumbling.

“Well?” You asked.

“I don’t want to fuck you. Not yet anyways.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips. The tension leaked out of you as you escaped being groped and defiled by the prince. You thanked him quietly, crawling onto the side of the bed, and covering yourself up. Aegon fiddled around before stating, “I’m going to sleep, too drunk to get it up.”

You don’t know why you cried when his breathing turned into a soft snore. Maybe all the emotions boiling over. Soon the tears turned to anger, pissed off from how callous and awful he was. How he would steal the throne. The very image of everything that held you to this gilded cage full of spiders and snakes.

The thought came to you. Lying naked in his chamber, eyes roving around the strange whips and discarded wine bottles. You lit a candle, Aegon dead to the world in his drunken state. You peered around his room, finding a display of carved cocks and plugs of sorts at the end of the bed, frowning. Deviant.

You walked further, stopping as a sharp pain nicked your big toe. Picking your foot up with a hiss, a piece of glass was lodged in the flesh. With a grimace and grunt you pulled it out, eyes trailing up to the broken mirror, smashed to bits. Cornflower eyes scanned the shards.

You peered over your shoulder to the sleeping Aegon, disheveled, shirt off. He almost looked innocent, spared your maidenhead after all. But the shard spilling his blood…seemed all too good. The claw marks from earlier reminded you of what he was. Take the potential usurper heir, one less dragon to deal with. You wouldn’t have his spawn. Your sister was the true queen.

Slowly grabbing a shard, maddened Targaryen bloodlust rising, you crawled atop the bed. Closer and closer you crept, straddling his hips, eyes full of fury. Aegon smiled, eyes closed, plump lips curling upward, “Ah, I told you I’d sway your blackened heart one day. You want something, wife?”

Your hand began to shake as you realized the severity of what you could do. What would happen? Aegon stirred as he didn’t hear your response, violet eyes meeting your own before noting the thick glass. You spat, “I can’t allow this.”

Aegon’s eyes flashed with something besides apathy or sick humor. He was angry. You tried to move, Aegon sending the glass flying with the spatter of blood across your pristine shift. He growled, shoving and pushing you onto your belly.

“Are you that stupid? I always thought you to be more shrewd than that display. Stabbing me in my sleep…You’d be burnt before I bled out, whore.”

You bucked against him, spitting, “You’re a future usurper, a drunk, and a whoreson, your face fills me with rage! I fucking hate this Aegon.” He laughed as he ran his bloody hand down your cheek.

He sighed, a terrifying edge to his usual easy, lackadaisical nature.

“Kind words, dear wife, you think I want to be king? Like I want to rule? Your cunt sister can have it, I have no taste for it.” Aegon readjusted himself, lips almost caressing your skin.

“You’re a bitter little bitch you know that? I didn’t choose this, be mad at our father!” He laughed again, wide grin and sharp teeth glinting in the low light. Aegon’s hand spilled blood onto your nightgown as he whispered into your ear, acrid venom dripping.

“You can be mad all you want, spurn me, I don’t care. But you’re going to learn to deal with me, take my seed, and never pull such idiocy like this ever again!” You grunted in pain as Aegon’s thick fingers curled around your throat.

His plush lips caressed your ear, “That’s reasonable isn’t it dear wife? I’m not a monster. Perhaps you should look in the mirror.” He picked up the shard again, your bloodied face and hateful eyes in the reflection, Aegon grinning. Tears welled up at your nigh unrecognizable face.

He threw it away, still holding your throat, silver hair tickling your pulsing neck. Aegon hummed, “Now promise me. You're going to be a good little wife and take my seed, then no more nonsense.”

You nodded, choking out a ‘yes’!

Aegon let go, you falling to the side to hold your neck, breathing in harsh pants. He looked over you, eyes calculating, dark. You shucked off the bloodied shift, throwing it to the side. He raised a brow. “What’s this?”

You pushed him backward, nails digging into his pale shoulders. Aegon grinned, hands coming around to rest on your hips, smearing more blood, something about it was primal and arousing— the tacky feeling, iron in the air.

Disgusting anger filled you, anger at your own body betraying you, anger at his snarky face, and anger at the whole fucking lot of dragon seed in this Keep. It made you unbearably aroused in a sick way, seeking to fuck the anger out, the anger made you want carnal pain. Aegon is a piece of shit but he could provide that.

Leaning forward, breasts pushed to him, you sneered, “Yes, lord husband, I’ll do my duty. Take your cock and seed as you see fit. No better than I, you’ve thought about it before.”

“Wringing the life out of that slim neck, watching that haughty look of yours fall off your face? Magnificent.”

You huffed a laugh at that, feeling his full prick swell against your bare cunt. Sealing your lips over his puffy ones, it was a battle of teeth and tongue. More blood spilled from your lip as he bit at it, lapping it up as you moaned, squirming atop him.

Aegon smacked your ass, sucking and nibbling your jaw as he murmured, “Gods you're an uppity bitch, yet I've wanted to fuck you for so long now.” He nipped at your neck again, moving down to pop a nipple in his mouth, moving you around.

You moaned in delight, arching and rolling your hips along his shaft, earning his noises, and stimulating your sensitive buds further. Yanking on his hair you breathed, “I didn't want to catch a disease from you, but you've grown comely, little brother.

The blonde pinched your other nipple roughly, popping off with a string of drool. Aegon grinned. “That’s the closest thing I've gotten of a compliment for you. No diseases I’m aware of, I pay fine money for my whores.” He smacked your ass again— sharp and loud as you cried out.

“You want to ride my cock dearest? Have your illusion of control?”

“Fuck you.”

He shrieked in laughter as you rose, slick cunt dripping. Your toned thighs, thick with muscle from dragon riding, lowered upon his prick. You bit back the guttural noise forced out of your throat, his prick tearing and bullying its way into your untouched cunt.

Aegon groaned, his hands digging into your hips as you panted, feeling blood join your slick. With a harsh pant, you leaned forward again, hands on his shoulders as you rode Aegon’s thick cock, the sight of blood and slick making his eyes shine.

He growled, “That’s a good princess, you’re mine now, such a little freak, getting all hot from blood and pain. A true Targaryen aren’t you, angry, vicious cunts.” He moaned when you slapped him, splitting his puffy lip. Crashing your lips against his, you lapped it up, slipping your tongue to mix with his.

He met you halfway, cock spearing you as you rolled down in quick jerks, nothing pretty. It was raw, grunts and rough slaps filling the room. Aegon’s big hand cracked down on your ass, your eyes rolling up as he dominated the kiss.

He panted against your lips.

“Gods— you’re fucking divine. Should’ve known you’d like it like this. Hard and fast, bloody, like some degenerates in those houses on the edge of the Street of Silk. I oughta take you some time. We can fuck someone together, hm?”

Your hips stuttered at the thought, mouth falling open to groan his name, gargling out a ‘fuck yes!’ Aegon grinned, groaning as you rode him harder, tits bouncing as you forced his thick length deeper. Your pussy was dragging and pulsing, wanting more and more, tightening.

The prince’s back arched as his cock pulsed, grunting your name as he shivered. He was close as you, groaning, “Good fucking wife, yes, gonna stuff you full of seed, take you out before you have to sit around and let me stuff you with more— our godsdamned babe. Want that?”

You nodded, hips moving at a breakneck pace, pleading, “Yes, yes, let’s take the town, show me, show me before I’m stuck to this wretched godsdamned keep. I’m your only cunt then, fit for you to fuck.”

He grew breathier at the idea, greedy hands massaging and plucking at your tits, lips biting and nipping your neck while groaning. You felt a jolt from him, Aegon crying out huskily as he emptied into you, forcing you onto your back as he fucked his seed into you with loud squelches.

You cried out, back arching at the sensation, the flood of hot gush drawing your climax out, milking Aegon further, begging him to fuck you more, the prince whining until a second one hit you, lurid squelching filling the room as he chanted your name, falling forward as you writhed and squeezed him, about to rip his pretty hair out.

Silence finally fell over the room save panting.

You knew there was a method of waiting, waiting until the seed could take. blood and cum were tacky on your body. He finally relented, pulling out with a sweet peck, hissing. You made a soft noise as your cunt leaked his spend, chest heaving.

Aegon laid on his back next to you. He smiled his little smile, lips puffed and lip-sided from busting the bottom. He splayed a hand over your belly, laughing, “And what a claim this will be, huh?”

Dread filled you once again. But with his babe in your belly, you could swing some leeway. With a hoarse chuckle, you replied, “Indeed a claim it is. I think it’s all over us.”

He laughed again, eyes sparkling, “Eh, I thought it would be worse.”

Could it?

[writeshite]

The coughing fit that had brought you back to life had been brutal, your voice still hoarse two weeks after; the world was different; it was brighter and louder, and you could smell the coconut buns at the small cafe down the street, hear the retching of the Vought scientists forced to clean the massacre you'd left in your wake.

"I'm sorry." You'd said, tears in your eyes; starvation had hit you first, then ferity; the taste of blood had never crossed your mind before, much less flesh, but the scientists had been more than palatable.

"It doesn't matter," John had countered; happy doesn't fit how he'd been—felicitous, overjoyed, thrilled—any one of those words would perhaps be better.

The blood had long been cleaned away, and the bath water had grown cold, however long ago, but John had yet to release you from his iron grip. He wasn't one to let go easily; not even death could steal you away from the Homelander.

[ask-seb]

50 likes and i’ll tell lewis i can see his bright purple boxers sticking out from his pants.

[syrupsyche]

So, I decided to follow along for Dracula Daily this year

And

And

Jonathan Harker is going on a road trip :D

yeah, he's pretty stoked about it! and even more excited to tell his fiancée all about it soon 😄😄

[bratscave]

This thought is about Batman specifically. It might a bit out of character?

(tw: dubcon)

So, there's this civilian, always hitting on him, teasing him, just getting herself into trouble to see him. It's a game for her.

Now, Batman or Bruce, he's pent up. He has a gaggle of kids and Gotham to look after. He doesn't get time to fuck or jerk off. So this is just getting on his nerves, even though he's known to have immense patience.

One day he snaps, he just hauls that civilian up into a dark alley. One that he knows is secluded. He ends up eating the civilian out until she's seeing stars and then promptly using her like a fleshlight while rubbing her clit almost raw.

At the end, he dresses her back up, drops her off at her apartment complex with a plan B pill and is back on patrol, feeling much, much better.

Also, I really love your work!

— i can totally imagine this omg

It started out as a joke. Your life was boring, you were mostly buried in your journalist work. Until Bruce Wayne started making headlines, and your company wanted as many articles on him as soon as possible. It became your job — obsession even, to keep up with Gotham’s most elusive billionaire. You, and your annoying snarky comments on his nepotism and his suits, his womanizer activities. Your writing style was something the average reader of Gotham couldn't look away from, not even bruce himself. He'd never admit that he actually reads your 'shit'. You were so incredibly infuriating yet he couldn't stop thinking about you. When he has his little one night stands after the galas you show up to, he thinks of you. pounds harder into said-woman at the thought of you under him. And when he sees you smoke on the large balcony, he thinks about how it would feel like to see those plump lips of yours, wrapped around his dick. He'd never admit that though. You had mumbled another jab at him the second you noticed his lingering gaze, which led to him dragging you across the main hall to the luxurious restrooms. It recks of those typical rich men cologne's, not the ones that bruce wears —not that you knew exactly what dior perfume, he was wearing. The exact one that you now scent while he's kissing down your neck, it's quick, it's rough. rough enough to surerly leave evident marks, in a matter that he knows everybody will see once you walk out. You'll become exactly something that you critize him for being. He slips your dress of, so fast like he has no damn time. Even though he doesn't event want to get back to the gala, he just wants to make you feel how you make him feel. annoyed and well- very horny. He lifted you up onto the marble counter like you weighted fucking nothing, his hands gripping your hips with bruising strength. Slipping your panties off, his fingers cold against your wetness. His mouth followed, finding your core with a primal hunger all while his groans vibrated against you. And how he loves the sound of nothing besides whimpers and whines coming from your direction, they are sweet noises, noises he'd love to hear more of. When he finally slides inside you, it’s with a harsh thrust that makes you cry out. His movements are powerful, driven by a raw need that leaves no room for gentleness. He’s using you, each thrust a release of the pent-up frustration he’s felt from your taunts and the constant grind of his dual life. His fingers continue to work at your clit, rubbing it almost mercilessly. And he's an asshole about it, taunts about how 'loud you are', muses about the fact that all your damn morals went out the window the second you saw some good dick. When he finally finishes, it’s with a low growl of satisfaction, his grip on you loosening just enough to let you catch your breath. He dresses you with a rough efficiency, handing you the Plan B pill with an almost clinical detachment. The look he gives you is cold, but there’s a flicker of something darker behind his eyes. Something that suggests that this will definetly not be the last time. Oh, and he loves that little complete dumbfounded expression of yours. He'd pay millions to see that rare one again.

[celestialprincesse]

first of, ofc i have notifs on for you. hello? have you read your work? 🙄

second, not sure if you take requests right now but i’d kill for some simon fluff. been sick in bed for the past few days and been dreaming of that big strong military princess taking care of me🤧

-🦇

Big strong military princess I love him 🎀🫶

"You look fucking terrible, darl." Simon grumbles as he returns to your shared bedroom, where you currently lay wallowing in self pity, darkness, and a mildly concerning fever. You attempt to level him with what you hope is a steely glare, which isn't made very easy with the way your eyes are so swollen you can barely keep them open. "Soup and then bath, or bath and then soup?" He probes, although he's already hoisting you up by the armpits to carry your lank, worryingly sweaty body to the bathroom, where he props you on a little stool as he fills the bath with steaming hot water and epsom salts. "-lusion of choice." You slur, leaning your head back against the cool bathroom tile in the hope of some reprieve from the way your body feels like it's being slow roasted. "Mm. Yeah." The low rumble of Simon's attempt at seeming interested in your incoherent babbling falls on deaf ears as he turns off the tap and sets to work undressing you, throwing your sweaty pyjamas in the direction of the hamper before easing you into the hot bath. The moment you're submerged, you're already attempting to climb from the bath, grabbing for Simon's shoulders as he keeps you in the tub, splashing and hissing like an angry cat. "Needs to be hot, baby, need to sweat that fever out, yeah?" He croons, holding you until you relax back into the water.

Once you're safely settled back under clean sheets, in fresh pyjamas, the hazy figure of your boyfriend returns to the doorway, this time with a bowl of soup and a spoon balanced with one hand, and your hairbrush in the other. "Right, let's get you fed, hey?" He coaxes, attempting to feed you the soup, which you flat out refuse to let him do. Instead you relegate him to brushing and braiding your wet hair as you sip the chicken broth directly from the bowl, sighing deeply as it warms your insides. The warmth of the soup, paired with the fuzzy haze that's settled across your brain like morning mist in the valley, have you practically falling asleep sitting up. "Done?" It's impossible for Simon to miss the way your head begins to droop and your loosening grasp on the soup bowl, which he grabs before you can spill it all over yourself. "Tired." You rumble, barely holding back a yawn as you snuggle back into Simon's chest, falling asleep not long after to the gentle thump of his heartbeat, and the same episode of Real Housewives you've watched at least four times in a row, having had to restart because you kept falling asleep.

I loooove you 🦇 anon! Giving me cute ideas!! Thank you!! I very politely need a buff military man to look after me at all times always for the rest of ever pls🫶 Also 🦇, how do you cope with having notifs on for me all I do is come on here and yap🫣

[an-albino-pinetree]

Every drawing you make of Jax just makes me fall deeper and deeper in love with him 💜💜💜 Thank you

You are so welcome 💚💚💚

[lnights]

Hey! As someone who's only kinda recently started getting into Blind Channel, can you "introduce" the band members to me/tell me any fun facts? 😊

It's okay if not, I just feel like it's so fun hearing it from other fans than trying to dig it out myself LOL

Welcome friend 🖤

You're about to get an essay 😂 anyone please add in, this isn't an all inclusive list of everything about them.

Let's start with Joel - vocals (and guitar depending on if you're going back to the first couple albums)

Joel is the oldest member of the band at 30, has ADHD, has dealt with insomnia, talked about being bullied in highschool, handles the band's social media, has a wine and has made a lot of references to dating his hand 😂

He is one half of the (t)error twins with Joonas, such named by the other members of the band for their chaos and having the same birthday, one year apart. He has said more than once that Joonas is his closest friend and they're found hanging out a lot outside of the band, they have been called an old married couple, always squabbling (but with a lot of obvious brotherly love)

Joonas - guitar

Second half of the (t)error twins, sings backing vocals, has been photographed with his dick out on more than once occasion, has a naked painting of himself, he's (sometimes questionably) a fashionista, and is known to have a rather sensitive digestive system.

Joel met Joonas in highschool after their own bands ended and became friends, eventually decided to form their own band, Joonas had already been in a band with Olli and their now tour manager Santeri, and previously in one with Tommi. Joonas, Olli, and Tommi are childhood friends prior to highschool.

Niko - vocals

Niko went to the same highschool as the other founding members, but hung out with a different crowd. Joonas, Olli, and (maybe) Tommi were at a house party, Linkin Park’s In The End came on, Niko rapped Mike's parts and Joonas invited him to join him for the band’s first practice the next day. Joel picked him up, even though they hadn't met.

He plays and teaches piano, writes most of the band's lyrics (though there is collaboration), has a kitty named Rommi, has a long term girlfriend, Joonas lived with them for a while. He has a large band symbol on his side with roses for each of the band members (minus Aleksi, but he does have a matching tattoo with him)

Tommi - drums

Papa bear himself! Lot of bear references with him, he has the nickname nalle (teddy bear in Finnish) from the band. He used to drive the band around when they were still in vans rather than tour buses and his job in the band is to “have final say”.

There's a single brain cell in this band, and most of the time it seems like Tommi has it, but every once in a while he's as dumb (affectionate) as the rest of them. He and Olli are the only two still in the band's hometown and as far as we know he is the only member of the band without tattoos. And he's a nurse!

Olli - bass

Called the most beautiful member of the band by his bandmates and known to eye-fuck any camera that happens to be focused on him.

Or if you happen to be watching them live 😳 it's intense.

He used to have gauges. There are several photos and videos of him and Joonas just holding hands 🖤 (lots of love in this band)

He can come off as a bit of an airhead, the biggest example of this is his poor bass Simba (rip) that he left on top of a van at a gas station, didn't realize until they had left and was far far down the road. He did eventually get it back but it was destroyed.

He designed their newest stage outfits and even sewed the patches on himself. He used to work at a hospital transporting patients.

Aleksi - DJ/percussion

Newest member of the band and only non-original member.

Had/has a solo DJ career and career as a producer as Alex Mattson, and accidentally ignored Joel in 2016 when he reached out to talk about a collab.

He ended up meeting Joel and Joonas at a Bring Me the Horizon concert in November of 2016 (where they also met Joonas (Johnny) Parkkonen) and they cleared up the accident and became friends.

He collaborated with them and help with song writing/production before he officially joined the band in 2020

Baby of the band and a menace. He got his first tattoo with a couple members there to hold his hand, I think it was Joel and Niko, Joonas went with him to get his band tattoo.

He grew up around the music scene (his dad is a booking agent) and was a drummer in a band as a kid. He has a little dachshund named Rilla

Joel, Joonas, Niko, and Aleksi all have the band's symbol tattooed on them. Joel's is in his arm, Joonas has it in his hand, Niko on his side, and Aleksi near his wrist.

[demiesop]

Thoughts on Batstarion?

Hello! Thank you for the ask!!

Batstarion...!!🦇 I'm not sure if you're referring to the bat form Ascended Astarion has, or just generally Astarion as a bat. I have different thoughts on both, but love him either way!

I also think he needs a rabies shot and a long warm bath.

I hope this answers your question! 🙇

[t4tskkism]

morning ^_^ there are shooting threats at school so i’m not going :3

fun! you should get them more often. as a little treat/break from school. 😊

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

Brat pack at a MOTHER FUCKIN RAVE

Or the board walk >_>

The baby bats!!! They're BIG Bats!!!

[From left to right: Christopher and Anastasia, David's kids. Tiffany, Paul's kid. Katherine, Marko's kid. And Jennifer, Dwayne's kid.]

[ask-seb]

SHAKES YOU

SEBASTIAN I LOVE YOUUUUUUU !!!!!!

ahhhhhh

[hyunsvngs]

Hybrid bunny minho trying to breed the fuck out of you!? And because he's a bunny he's so fucking relentless.... absolutely fucked from his dancer/ bunny hips

-🦇

oh god yeah. cute floppy ears askew, a little frown on his lips because even though his hips are rippling the flesh on your ass, it’s not fast enough. it needs to be faster, and he tells you so, making you bounce back on his cock. “‘s already fast, min,” you huff, your eyes rolling back as you push yourself to take him even deeper.

“needs to take,” he responds, eyes trained on where his cock enters your sloppy pussy. “need to fill this cunt up deep enough so you have my babies. ‘kay?”

and he’s so cute and yet so sexy that you can’t help but whine, nodding and throwing your hips back quicker.

♡ juno

[qcomicsy]

Explain which fucked up character is more of a twink; Jason or Bruce. Elaborate on why you think this. (12 marks)

Alright So,

Jason is a hunk

He's not a twink, I believe if anyone ever called him a twink he would be so shocked he would forget how to punch them. He's a hunk. A twunk even. He's built, strong looks as big as a fucking closet.

I mean look at this mf

Now his father???

This is what twink death looks like:

And for the definition.

You know those gradients people do with actors and other celebrities when they go from Twink to Daddy? As much as Bruce Wayne isn't my cup of tea.

This is him.

Like– It's literally him

He's the Twink -> Daddy Gotham edition.

And before someone comes in here and says " Oh He's still a twink–" Do not lie to yourself, he can be whatever you want him to be in your heart, but that man is huge, he's a CLOSET. His son is 6,0 and he managed to be BROADER. He's humongous. He can carry bane on his fucking back that's not a twink deed that's a brawny motherfucker he could break our arms like a twig.

I, in fact. I could argue that Bruce Wayne could actually be a bear depending on the artist that draw him (which also makes debatable the argument that Bruce Wayne in fact shaves his chest and I would say that's probably with laser because no razor makes a man chest and abs that smooth.) but I don't think the fandom is ready for that.

On an unrelated note, Jason Todd from Wayne Family adventures is a twink and I will fight people on that–

So in conclusion,

Jason Todd, is a twunk he was never a twink in his life. His father on the other hand was a Twink that evolved to a Daddy, which leads us to the end of my dissertation where measuring which fucked up character is more of a Twink... Bruce Wayne wins the crown, congrats Bruce Wayne you will always be famous.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk where I say things with enough confidence that makes it seem like I am right. Because I am.

[ragnarokhound]

can vamp Tim give Jason a blood transfusion if needed? 🤔

in your vamp/wer verse I mean

Oh, that's an interesting question! In my vampire!Tim/werewolf!Jason verse and the accompanying fic, Tim drinks almost exclusively off of Jason because a) Jason loves it and b) Tim would near-starve himself otherwise :') (and he kind of does anyway, Jason has to bully him into feeding). So the only blood inside Tim at any given moment is usually Jason's original blood anyway. But can Tim give that blood back in an emergency?

tldr: yes, under certain conditions. lol

My reply was getting long because this kind of speculating is my favorite game to play, so if you're curious about what those conditions are and how I reached that conclusion, more details are under the cut:

In this verse, Jason is the kind of werewolf who doesn't have a lot of control/retained personality when he shifts, but he DOES have a lot of meta powers. (As a treat for becoming a mindless, violent monster lol ur welcome Jay)

One of those powers includes rapid healing ala deadpool/wolverine (unless the wound is inflicted by silver, ancestral or otherwise) so it would be remarkably difficult for Jason to reach the point where he even needs a blood transfusion. But let's consider that worst case scenario, in which Jason has suffered enough silver-inflicted wounds that his healing factor breaks and he needs blood, yesterday. Wuh oh.

Tim is the #1 candidate to consider for a Jason blood transfusion because that's his gamer fuel of choice - but for Tim to be a viable donor, it would depend on the length of time it's been since Tim drank from Jason, and how much. They're on a time limit because Tim's body doesn't replenish blood on its own, he has to steal it.

Brace yourself for the suspect use of rough science facts in the middle of supernatural fantasy speculation about vampire/werewolf AUs, lmao

So supposing Jason has about 12 pints/5.7 L of blood in total, he could lose maybe 5 pints/2.4 L of blood at a time without dying (and that's a high estimate, he'd start going into shock way before that lmao), AND it would take him weeks to restore that blood - if he were human.

Luckily for Tim, he can steal quite a bit from Jason without killing him because of the handy dandy werewolf healing factor that restores Jason's blood almost as fast as Tim's dusty ass can absorb it. (Tim's veins @ Jason's blood: 𝔪𝔬𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔷𝔢 𝔪𝔢). Unluckily for Tim (and Jason), Tim has about a zillion hangups over drinking that much all at once. Aw.

A brief google search tells me that in an average human body, red blood cells live about 120 days. For simplicity, we'll say that Tim being a vampire and having weird vampire powers counteracts Jason being a werewolf and his blood having weird werewolf properties - so when Tim is full (and I mean full) of Jason's blood, he's good for somewhere just under that 120 days.

The blood isn't immediately starving in Tim's stupid vampire body because it's strong, sexy werewolf blood; it stays hydrated for a million years and could thrive like a dandelion in a crack in the sidewalk, let alone a perfectly good, albeit abandoned, vascular system. (Jason's blood @ Tim's veins: 𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓉𝑒)

That being said, Tim starts getting very hungry near the end of that time frame as the blood is used/dies, and that time frame shrinks every time he bleeds (which is often, RIP Tim). But he'd still have a solid month or so of healthy, viable Jason blood pumping through his undead ticker. (unless Tim gets REALLY beat up lol, which is not unlikely OTL)

SO all this to say: can Tim give it back?

I would say yes, IF Tim has fed recently, and he's fed A LOT. Otherwise, he just straight up might not have the blood to give anymore because his stupid husk of a body already used it all.

If he tried to give Jason blood around the time he's getting hungry again, when Jason's blood is on it's last legs after sustaining an active vampire without reinforcements for weeks to months, it wouldn't be as effective as a blood transfusion from someone who can make their own blood and therefore has a fresher supply.

tldr (again lol); Tim could become a blood donor for Jason, but only once he's regularly letting himself drink from Jason, and drinking until he's full.