#comments reblogs are appreciated

[acid-ixx]

ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

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[rusticfurnace]

some soap content because hes my little goober. my babym the light of my life. >:3

[dollyhao]

princess!reader who has a close relationship with her personal knight abby anderson (smut, pining, tension, making out, cunnilingus)

word count: 2.4k

two years ago, your father decided that a woman guard would be whats best for you and it was the best decision he could have made. ser abigail anderson follows you everywhere, everywhere you go, she's only a step behind you, watching over you like a hawk. but there are some people in the castle that have some concerns, like how she stands so close to you, how her hand lingers on your lower back, or how she insists that she can protect you better at night from inside your bedroom.

but your father is quick to deny any concerns or accusations that people come to him with. who are they to accuse you of such a sinful act? what’s a better way to stop these insane rumors? an arranged marriage.

your father, the king, decides to bombard you with a bunch of men in the throne room, ready to take your hand in marriage. abby stands behind you as men walk up to you telling you how beautiful you are, and how these men would spoil you and give you so so many babies. abby is not only unimpressed but she’s disgusted. she looks over at your father who’s nodding approvingly at the men.

you look annoyed, finally saying, “that’s enough for today.” you say after the 7th man, you stand bowing towards your father before saying, “thank you father. this has been very insightful.” and you storm off. abby follows you to your room and as soon as you two enter, you're on her.

you push her against the door, standing on your tippy toes to kiss her deeply before she pulls away. “wait,” she says as you fumble with her stupid armor trying to get it off. “what’s wrong?” you ask still fumbling with the armor. “you don’t wanna talk about the whole marriage thing?” she asks you, helping you take off her armor. “no not really.” you say kissing her neck.

“well i do.” she says pushing you away gently. abby takes off her armor by herself, watching as you walk over to your bed and flopping down on it. “what is there to talk about? i’m not getting married.” abby sighs and rubs her fingers over her forehead, “we both know you don’t have a say in that.” abby stands in front of you in her tight trousers and long sleeve shirt that’s tight around her biceps. “so what do you want me to do abs?” you look truly sad at both of your predicaments, "what if- what if we ran away together?"

abby eyes shoot to yours, looking to see if your serious or not, “are you serious?” she leans a hand on the post at the end of your bed, “yes, im serious. how could i possibly get married to someone that's not you?” abby looks away from you, not even entertaining the idea, “princess...” she trails off and you stand walking over and grabbing her face so she can see the sincerity in your face. “we could be happy together, just the two of us.” you push her to sit on the bed while you stand in between her legs, "we could change our names, live on a farm, adopt some children, we could be together!"

"that's too risky, 'the princess and her knight going missing', people will be looking for us." your face goes sad and your eyes misty, "just think about it please... it doesn't have to be now, ok?" abby nods with a soft, sad smile on her face.

abby never expected to be placed as your personal guard when she signed up for the kingsguard and she definitely never expected to fall for you. when she was first assigned to you she was disappointed because how exciting could following a princess around be? and she was right, the job was unexciting. just following a princess—with no understanding of the outside word— around her large castle. thats all she seen for a while until you started to talk to her, rambling on and on about whatever came to your mind even when she wouldn't respond to you.

you were kind, funny and way smarter than anyone in the castle gave you credit for. when she finally started to respond to you, you asked her all types of questions about her life and you actually listened; interested in the stories she told you. and she found herself dreaming about you at night, imagining how life would be if you were hers.

it didn’t take long before you started laughing at her jokes and openly flirting with her; telling her how pretty she was, asking if she had a husband... or wife, trying to have her hang out in your quarters. she thought you were playing at first, that you were bored and lonely, and she didn't find it funny at all.

it was mean to play with her emotions like that, to have her believe that you of all people; beautiful, caring, sweet, darling you would be interested in her. so she put walls up between you two; she started walking behind you, not responding to your ramblings, not laughing at your silly jokes or the cute faces you make at her and she could see the confusion written all over your face and something her deluded mind perceives as hurt.

this went on for a week until one night while standing outside your door while you got ready for bed she heard crying coming from behind the door. abby turns to knock with a look of concern etched on her face, "princess? is everything alright?" when she gets no answer just sniffles and the sound of something breaking she bursts in completely on alert. when she does a quick look of the room and sees no threat just you in your sleep gown, standing next to a broken vase with tears streaming down your face. she closes the door and approaches you carefully like you're a scared cat that's gonna run any second.

"are you alright?" she asks as she reaches for your hand to pull you away from the glass. "am i alright?! how could i be when your being so mean?" you angrily snatching away from her. "i-i dont know what you mean princess." abby stutters at your sudden and blunt wording. "im sure you don't, ser abigail, you've just been treating me like-like shit for the last couple of days, for no reason!" you storm away from her with abby hot on your heel, "your highness! i-ive just been doing my job!"

"why wont you talk to me anymore?! have i offended you so badly you choose to act like im just some job? after all the progress we were making?" you wrap your arms around yourself, looking away from her, "i thought you liked me." with the moonlight streaming into your dark room, illuminating your figure, abby thinks you are the most beautiful woman she's ever seen. quick to reassure you and to get the hurt look off your pretty face, she quickly tells you, "i do! i like you in a way that is not at all proper for someone of my stature."

your hands fall away from your body and you're in front of her in a few long strides, "abigail, if you like me, i command you to tell me so because my heart can't handle thinking that i have wronged you to the point of hatred." you grab her hands holding them to your chest as you stare at her with wet eyes. "the only one that is wronged here is you, your highness." she says lowly, "im the one who has been having improper thoughts of you. thoughts that you cant possibly reciprocate."

abby doesn't meet your eyes but she sees your hand reach up and cup her face, "oh abby. ive never felt this way about anyone before." you mumble as you start to close the distance between the two of you. and abby closes the space and your lips are pressed to hers and they are softer than she could've imagined in her most vivid dream.

her gloved hands are on your waist as her body backs you up and presses you against your bed post. your noses are bumping against each others as you try to get her closer but her armor is in the way. you let out a frustrated whine and abby is quick to pull it off. she pulls away and your both panting, eyes locked on each other as she pulls her armor off and gloves. you stare at her swollen lips and the fly away hairs coming out of her braid.

when she finally has it off, her lips are back on yours but now you can feel her warm body press against yours. her hands roam your body squeezing and grasping at everything. you moan when her hand squeezes your breast and her thumb presses on your nipple. your hands are untucking her shirt from her pants so that your hands can trail over the hard plain of her stomach. abby shudders at your cold hands and her hips shoot forward bumping into yours and your hips chase hers as they pull back away.

"i wanna see you," abby whispers against your lips, "can i?" her hands settle on the strings holding up your gown, waiting for your confirmation. "yes-" you begin to respond before a knock at your door surprises the both of you and abby shoots away from you.

"ser abigail, are you in there?" said the voice of another knight that abigail knows because he takes on the night shift of standing watch outside of your room, while she rests. you and abigail eyes meet with scared but exhilarated expressions. she shakes her head, putting her finger to her lip and grabbing her stuff to hide it from view when you go answer the door. the knight knocks again and you hurry over fixing your gown and running a hand down your face before opening the door.

you crack the door and stick your head out, "no, ser abigail left only moments ago. she told me she was going to go get you so she could get some rest." the man averts his eyes from your form while your in your sleepwear. "oh. i must have beat her to it."

"yes, how diligent. um can you find a servant to bring me some water? my mouth is very dry." the man nods instantly and goes to find someone. you close the door again and whisper-yell for abby to come to the door. you see her come into the moonlight with her armor back on. "you have to go before he gets back!" abigail nods, placing a hand on the door turning to place a lingering kiss on your lips. you grab the sides of her head holding her against you and her other hand moves to grab at your waist.

"no, we can't! you have to go." you say pulling away only for abby to press a kiss to your cheek. you giggle pushing at her shoulders, "go!" and then she's out the door and rushing to her own quarters. you press your back against your door, breathing heavy while, waiting for the knock of the knight who hands you the water and you place it down before flopping on your bed. you lay remembering the way abby touched you and fall asleep dreaming of her.

and ever since that night, you two have been glued at the hips; secret make out sessions, notes being passed between you two, late night meet ups in your quarters. it was fun for the past year until this whole marriage thing. now your relationship is at risk and you want to risk running away together.

a week later, abigail follows you to the library in the far corner of the castle, where no one goes. once you enter the empty room your talking with a look of determination on your face. "i have it all planned out abs." you pull out papers you were hiding in your dress and place them on the table. "we can run away and i dont think my father will make a big deal about it! i mean im the youngest, and he has so many kids it wont be a big deal right? and we'll go far, i mean no one knows what i look like, i almost never leave the castle."

you gaze up at her with bright hopeful eyes. "you really wanna run away together?" you stand up straight, walking to stand in front of her, "yes," you place a kiss on her lips. "your willing to give up all the gowns and jewelry, to live with me on a farm?" she chuckles at the absurdness of it all. you frown at her laughing at you, "yes, if it means we can be together, im willing to give it all up."

abby cups your face with both hands, eyes roaming over your face and she sees all the love you've been giving her written all over it. she crashes her lips against yours, licking and biting at your lips. your breathing gets heavy as abby kisses and bites at your jaw, "abigail..." your hands are in her hair as she nips at your collar bone before getting on her knees.

she looks up at you pulling your dress up as your hands brace against the table behind you. abby's face is flushed as she lifts your leg and licks the juices dripping down your inner thigh to your pussy. you shudder at the feeling of her tongue licking at your cunt. you put one hand on her head as abby slurps at your cunt. "ohmygosh~" you jaw drops as you pant and tremble. "run away with me, run away with me please." you huff out as abby's hands grip your ass, spreading you so she can get deeper.

you moan and whine as abby's hot breath fans over your clenching hole. your hips buck into her face holding her hand thats holding firm on your thigh, "marry me, run away and marry me!" abby speeds up her actions when she feels you ready to explode. you cream on her tongue when you finish before pulling your dress back up over her head.

abby stays on her knees as she catches her breath gazing up at you like you put the moon in the sky. you both stare at each other as you catch your breaths. abby's face breaks out into a wide smile, "lets run away and get married." you beam at her.

and they lived happily ever after. thee end!

[1-900-venusluvs]

Dreaming about how Miguel talks us thru our orgasm 🙊🫶

His hips keep thrusting harshly into your pussy as you whimpers are going muted from the pillow your head is stuffed in. His grabs your hips and pushes them back onto his cock. His head flies back at the pleasure of your tight pussy hugging him.

“..please let me cum baby..I-i love you miggy” you whimper out with your head still stuffed in the pillow wanting to have an orgasm. Now Miguel wasn’t mean oh no, he’ll let you cum after all because you’re his girl.

“I know..I know baby..can you hold it in for a bit longer? I know you can amor..” he spoke out still grunting in between words. His big hands hug your waist as he so isn’t gently thrusting into you.

“Alright can you cum for me now? You earned it..”he moans out as he rubs your clit, hoping that you’ll cum right away. You cum and instantly feel a wave of tiredness hit you like a truck and your body limps to the bed. Miguel takes out his leaking cock and lays next to you with his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest.

“And I love you more sweetheart..you know that” he says kissing your cheek. He takes note on how your sleeping and kisses your cheek yet again

“dios mío, your the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Here’s to my taglist💍: @lazyjellyfish300 @monstera02 @muchosbesitos @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @yournextbimbogf @blahblahblahblueslol @kerwin290710 @tojishugetiddies

And if you’d like to be on the taglist just dm me🫶!

MINORS DNI PLEASE 🙏

[tinyfantasminha]

I don't want to keep clogging my blog with vent posts but uh... I guess this is a more general concern/observation

But it's getting real hard to stay motivated in fandom spaces when there's little compensation, and annoying occurrences are more frequent than good ones.

Mainly there's been less engagement/people showing interest in creators and their art (such as sending asks, making comments and reblogging with tags) and MORE parasocial interactions. This goes for both artists and writers.

Over this year I've noticed a vast disinterest within my public in general. Asks about ocs, my art, or just nice simple comments of ''I love your art'' has been getting more and more scarce. My follower number is bigger than 2-3 years ago sure and I get more likes on my posts but they are feeling more like just numbers and statistics than actual people who supposedly like my stuff.

And while people being parasocial with creators has always been a thing, I feel like it's gotten way worse... in general? People sending personal pictures out of the blue in hopes of being validated, unwanted psychological advice or assumptions about the creator without any established connection first ( <- these happened to me in the same week.) ventdump, just insensitive/lacking of common sense comments in general, unreasonable demands (mostly with writers)... I wondered at first if it was just me, but a handful of mutuals/acquaintances who are artists and writers seems to be going through it as well.

It's annoying. It's tough. It's getting exhausting. Creators pour so much of themselves into their work—countless hours, effort, and passion, all to share something meaningful or entertaining with others (and for FREE) The LEAST anyone can do is show respect, even if opinions differ. When a writer posts a fanfic, don't just say ''omg post next chapter!'', when an artist posts a drawing of their favorite character, don't just say ''omg draw (character) next!'' as if they're faceless content machines that are expected to churn out more '''content''' for you without acknowledgment, encouragement, or appreciation.

''I want to support creators but I don't know what to say and I feel intimidated by their talent so I just lurk silently :((('' I swear to you, no creator (at least not the majority) is making up an intimidating persona to discourage you from interacting with them. They WANT your comments. A single ''I love your art/writing/videos'' or even something as silly as ''I want to eat your art'' is enough to keep a creator sighing dreamily for WEEKS. It doesn't have to be deep! It's heartfelt and that's what it matters!! (Just remember to keep it relevant and thoughtful... It takes just a bit of common sense NOT to comment things like ''this looks like (another character)'' or ''this but with (another unrelated ship/character/show)''. No one wants to hear comparisons or unrelated ideas when they’ve poured their soul into something.)

In fact, the ''I like your art but I think you're intimidating'' feels more hurtful than flattering. It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, acting wrong. 💀

If you love that fanfic that changed your brain psyche forever and want to gush about it, go tell the writer. If you loved so much a piece of art that you saved it a million times in your phone and can't stop thinking about it, go tell the artist. Push away the ''they probably won't care about my comment/it won't make a difference'' thoughts. DO IT NOW. You won't know when they might go inactive forever or deactivate. You can't know if that is the last piece they will ever post. Make sure you show appreciation to creators NOW, while they are still here. While they're still not being replaced by AI.

[fauchart]

S?? E?? - 'When Snakey Met Annie...'

An early season Bob-centric episode in which Ann finds Snake again after he's robbed her diner and, charmed and stupid, she tries to get him to date her - he's entirely uninterested until she mentions living across the penitentiary. The wheels start to turn and all of a sudden, he welcomes the idea... Meanwhile, Bob had been reading self-improvement books (anger management, how to let go of grudges, revenge isn't the answer etc) and was on his very best behaviour, planning on waiting out his sentence and come back to society a changed man, ready for a fresh start... But when the opportunity to escape is presented as readily as it is here, he shrugs off all of his good decisions, throws his book above his shoulder and switches back to crazed maniac in an instant - and back to hunting Bart he goes! Though the focus of the episode will be Bob and Bart, several times throughout the episode there will be appearances of Snake trying to drop the charade with Ann now that he got what he wanted - but each time he'll have to keep up the farce for one reason or another;

(Listen, Snake growing a conscience and suddenly refusing to violate carpool lane rules for a one-off joke is hilarious to me. Don't look at me like that)

While their B-Plot is going on and intermittently shows them fleeing the law by car in gradually stupider situations - Bob has managed to corner Bart against the big window pane of the Mall. As he lifts his knife, about to strike... Snake's car suddenly crashes through that window and flies out of the mall above Bart, before ramming straight into Bob and splattering him on the pavement. The end of a sequence parodying the Mall Car Chase scene from the Blues Brothers.

"Dude, that was not a shortcut." Cut to both Bob and Snake getting handcuffed. Snake looks a little more sincere when he says "I'll call you!" to Ann-Doreen as the cops make him sit in the car. Mirroring that, Bob says "I'll get you!" to Bart as the ambulance takes him away. Roll credits.

WELL THAT WAS A LONG ONE. LOL. I worked hard on this one, so for once I'll say; please reblog and give me your thoughts! I hope you liked it!!

BONUS INFOS:

This would be the second episode with Ann-Doreen (outside of like, crowd shots and other non-speaking appearances in the background) and the one to properly set up the relationship she has with Snake. Lots of fun for that poor bugger!

I've made all the panels rectangular because I wanted to try and work in a format that's similar to actually watching the show - it's not 16:9 (nor square like it should technically be for early seasons) but I think we get the feeling anyway :]

That one other guy in the prison is just this random unnamed prisoner from 12x10 'Pokey Mom'. His first appearance would thus be in that ep I made, since it predates season 12!

Also here's me knowing in advance I'm putting way too much effort into this post:

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

In Regards To Your 2024 Summary:

Holy shit it’s been another year????? The hell?????

Also! Your art style is gorgeous and that being found in 2023 and then refined throughout late 2023 and the entirety of 2024 really shows, as does your growth in panel layouts, perspective, and — as you said — experimentation. If you ever post your animation or video game art I’m looking forward to it.

As cheesy as it sounds, being able to laugh at funny comics and look at all the details of your art really made my 2024 brighter, even when things were hard. Including looking at your older art— it doesn’t need to be new to be enjoyable! I’m glad your art is well loved and it’s a privilege to have been here since the (near) beginning. I hope you take care of yourself in 2025 and beyond!

You and your art bring a lot of people a lot of joy never forget that <3

Thank you so much for keeping up with my art journey throughout these last two years! Two years!!! I am baffled at how that feels both too long and too short!

Admittedly, my art summary didn't manage to capture the fact that I did a lot of comic layouts that I'm really proud of. I also drew more backgrounds and made some very detailed works (*Dungeon Meshi spoilers for these examples*).

The growth is lot more evident when comparing my 'best' comics of 2023 to 2024:

Sometimes the growth is vertical, sometimes it is horizontal - and damn, sometimes it goes out of sight into the Z-plane. But it is always happening!

[bambiilooza]

posting her again and hoping she doesn't explode 🙏

here's my ramble about her design :D

so, my favourite thing about epic's circe that i wanted to carry onto my version is her playfulness. circe as a explicitly seductive figure is smth that makes sense but, i prefer drawing cheeky looking characters anyways. so, i went for this more playful energy with her. not saying she's not seductive, obviously. it's just not smth i focused on.

so, her skin is very similar to my helios design and the hair with that combo is somewhat reminiscent of a lion, i think. in fact, when it's not tied up, her hair looks like a mane almost and i think that's cool. i gave her lioness like eyes. and ofc she's got the lioness on her cloak.

so, her usual look doesn't include the cloak. mainly because i want her tattoo to be on full display but, i think it also shows just how safe aeaea is for her and her nymphs. also, it makes her look like she's quite relaxed with her life on the island.

for her skirt, i was originally gonna go pink but, i think the lavender fits her better. so, i made the pink a sidekick to that purple colour. i coloured moly in a similar way - with weird golden roots to match. i need to draw it properly cuz it looks kinda dumb atm but, i have a vision at least.

her tattoo is a stylised moly - and it glows with magic use - and it kinda looks like the caduceus - but not really - and it matches with my hermes' chest tattoo. just thought that was a fun thing between them :D (it's not supposed to correlate in any way. it's just a coincidence for those two)

also, she has moly in her hair. it needed a pop of colour and i thought that fit.

the colours of the clothes were looking to light on her so, i added the black as a test and ended up really liking it. the stark contrast between the bright colours with the black allude to danger. but, more importantly, it looks cool ✨

the weird yellow, triplet freckle things are there and idk why i put them there but it's cute and links to helios. however, i think i'm gonna give perse similar freckles - her's would be blue probably but, in the same places as her daughter.

also, she's tall :D

(if anyone's interested in a ramble for any other design of mine, send in an ask because, i love to yap <33)

[neteyamssyulang]

♱ Wild Encounters ♱

♱ Easter special ♱

♱ Pairing: Adult Neteyam x Fem human reader ♱

♱ Summary: While on a late night walk in the woods, you immediately regret your decision.

♱ Warnings: Dom Neteyam, Sub reader, Neteyam in rut, Dub-con?, P in V, Size difference, Creampie.

♱ Translation(s): Tawtute -> Sky person, Tìyawn -> Love.

♱ Word count: 653 ♱

♱ A/N: Happy Easter my darlings!

♱ Tagging: @teyamshuman @ikeyniofthetayrangi @itchaboi-itchyboy @aria-tempest @anemonelovesfiction @loaksulluyswife @kia-wolfie @tallulah477 @kariz-stark

When you decided to go for a late night walk through the forest, this is not what you had in mind.

The air was temperate, the breeze was cool, the bioluminescent moss lighting your way though the endless forest. It felt good to be out here, so perfect and free.

Tonight felt different though, like someone was watching you from the shadows. Whenever you turned around however, there was nobody around. It was like pandora was playing a prank on you, making you feel crazy and on edge.

Glances over your shoulder now and then would ease that nervousness inside of you a bit but it would never fully go away. A twig snapping behind you made you turn around instantly, only to be met with, him.

You've heard stories about the omaticaya prince from humans that went back and fourth from the village, yet none compared to what is infront of you right now.

His eyes, normally described yellow like honey were green, with slits for pupils. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and a noticeable tent was in his tewng.

"Such a pretty little tawtute" he purred, stepping closer towards you. Instinctively, you took a step back making him growl.

In an instant, you found yourself laying flat on your back with the huge na'vi hovering above you. He was so large compared to you, having to bend his back a bit to bury his head into the crook of your neck.

"Please, don't do this.." you begged him, unfortunately your pleas fell on deaf ears as he ripped off your shorts, along with your panties and shirt.

"You do not tell me what to do, little girl" he hissed, moving his loincloth to the side. His cock slapped against his stomach, beads of pre-cum already oozing from the tip.

Holy mother he was huge, that would never fit inside you. No way, no how. "That thing will ne- ahh! oh shit!" Your cut off as he immediately rammed his cock inside your tight pussy.

"Fuck.. so tight..so good" he moaned, with no preparation the stretch felt unbearable to you. It was like he was tearing you in half, literally.

Tears streamed down your face as you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, leaving small crescent marks. Without warning, Neteyam pulled out only to slam back inside. A noticeable buldge could be seen from your stomach where his cock was buried.

Neteyam hovered above you, his large frame making you feel even smaller compared to him. His arms caged you in as he started rutting into you like a rabbit in heat.

The forest was filled with the sound of his hips slapping against yours, along with the lewd sounds he kept pulling from your lips. You've never felt so full in your life, not even the toys you had could make you feel this way.

"That's it" Neteyam purred, coiling his tail around your ankle. He leaned down, burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

You whined, clawing at his shoulders as you felt your climax approaching. Neteyam groaned, picking up his pace "Is the little human gonna cum for me? Hm?"

Leaning back up, he gazed down at your flushed face. You nodded frantically, desperately wanting to cum already. Neteyam smirked,"Cum, be a good little slut and cum.on.this.cock!" With each word he delivered a hard thrust, his tip kissing your cervix.

A choked out sob left your lips as you came hard, squirting onto his lower abdomen and thighs. Neteyam hissed feeling your walls squeezing around him tightly, with one last thrust he buried himself to the hilt inside, painting your gummy walls white.

Panting heavily, you gazed up at him, his green eyes slowly turning back to the warm honey ones you heard so much about.

"Your mine now, pretty human" he murmured.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #138

Damian decided he wanted to be a veterinarian in his spare time so after high school he applied to Gotham University and moved into the dorms. Alfred and his Father highly encouraged it something about getting that college dorm experience and they were pushing him to make a friend or two. He also didn’t know what to expect from his roommate Nightingale, something was off about him and Damian was determined to find out what that is.

Danny just wanted to get his engineering degree. Unfortunately his new roommate seemed curious about him. After he ran away from home he decided he’d try to make it on his own. He didn’t even try to tell his parents about Phantom, their prejudice about ghosts wasn’t going away soon and the sooner he got away the safer he’d be. He had to think about the infinite realms now and keeping their king, well himself, safe was the best option at the moment. If only the Observants could stop appearing in unexpected places to beg him to return to the realms.

[linkbetweenlinksau]

The Mark - part 1

Part 2|| part 3||

[entwnii]

satoru hated meetings with the elders, that was a fact. they’d always ask too many questions or try to comment on each decision he made, especially since he married you, a non-sorcerer, which had been seen as ‘the crime’ of the decade. what’s more, the subway on his way back to your shared house was late that night, which led to the white-haired man being even more irritated. all he wanted to do was to get home to you. quickly. satoru finally opened the front door of his house, around 12:26 am, a sigh of relief escaping him. he immediatly kicked his shoes off, throwing his leather jacket somewhere on the floor as he made his way to the kitchen, where the lights were on. “baby, ’m home—” he spoke up before stopping himself midway through his sentence, absolutely dumbstruck at the sight in front of him. the radio was on, just like always, playing some piero piccioni, who he knew was one of your favorite jazz composer. a bottle of red wine placed open on your kitchen counter, a wine glass filled midway of the same red wine. and then there was you. . . you were happily humming to the music while making some matcha and white chocolate cookies. those were satoru’s favorites, the same ones his mother used to bake for him when he was younger. on top of it all, you stood topeless, only wearing your pj pants. you were definitely wine-drunk. immediately, a wide grin appeared on satoru’s lips. he stumbled towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hidding his face into the crook of your neck and pressing kisses on your soft skin, making you laugh. being married is dope.

[1-900-venusluvs]

You cannot tell me that man would eat pussy like it’s his first meal in years. He would slowly kiss up your thighs til he reaches to your inner thigh. When he does he kisses it before giving it a hickey just to fuck with you a bit.

“you have the body of a goddess, i swear darling.”

He says as he grips your thighs with his veiny hands, he definitely knows how to make a woman cum for sure. He licks your slit before actually eating you out. Whenever your legs close From stimulation, he spreads them back open with a smile, his thick cock has harden at the sight of your face scrunching and your eyes rolling back.

“Don’t you wanna cum amor? So let me show you.” He spoke again in a stern like tone, he shoves his fingers inside you before sucking on your clit. His tongue flicks on your bud as he goes faster. You feel a wave of ecstasy come over you as you’re gripping his brown curls. You cannot believe a Greek god like Miguel O’Hara himself is making you cum. You feel a feeling in your stomach indicating you’re gonna cum. You shut your thighs around his head and moan loudly. Your fluids get on his chin and mouth as he licks it up swiftly without you knowing a damn thing. You put your head back onto the soft pillows before hearing him get up. You make a comment about his abilities.

“Can’t believe one of the most cockiest gods made me cum.” you say with a faint chuckle. He licks his fingers before a grin plastering on his face. It wasn’t just a grin, it was that grin. His upper lip goes up and his sharp fangs poke out ever so slightly. Fuck he was hot. Your mind was clouded with thoughts of this god infront of you.

“I am the god of pleasure so, have to own up to my name.” He says before winking at you playfully.

Like the saying goes, you fell first but he fell harder ཐི♡ཋྀ.

And here is to my taglist🥂: @moon-rivr @monstera02 @lazyjellyfish300 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @yournextbimbogf @chiwhorei @blahblahblahbluesblog

[a-tomsk]