#i am very easily pleased LMAO

[hana-bobo-finch]

jørgan clan my beloved. you guys are so messed up

[elprupneerg]

Had a successful trip to the spice store today :)

[bobomcfoe]

Both of my lifeguards that were supposed to come in today for the early morning shift texted me, within a minute of each other, after the shift had already begun, saying they slept through their alarms and would be late 💀 i do not care literally at all because it's 4:30am but it was quite humorous i must say

[astonmartinii]

you're (govern)mental

pairing: alex albon x fem prime minister’s daughter reader

there’s a new family in downing street, the home of british politics, but one member prefers the home of british motorsports.

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

autosport

liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 189,034 others

tagged: yourusername

autosport: there’s a new family in ten downing street, and rumour says they’re big motorsport fans

view all comments

user1: deadass are we going to get the prime minister at an f1 race

user2: spending tax payer money on the prime minister watching lando norris bin it turn one at silverstone?

user3: valid imo

landonorris: omg royalty loves us ???

user4: stay in school kids

georgerussell63: lando surely you know the prime minister is not in the royal family

landonorris: there was an election?

alexalbon: we helped you fill out your postal vote?

landonorris: i thought that was my tax form

georgerussell63: we did help you with that as well

alexalbon: we live in monaco?

alexalbon: real question - how are you still alive?

oscarpiastri: i ask myself that everyday

landonorris: is it national bully lando day today?

user5: that’s everyday for user5

user6: is now a good time to confess that me and y/n y/ln used to be f1 twt mutuals

user7: excuse me?

user8: holy lore drop

user9: please tell us who she roots for

user5: let’s just say she was in the trenches for a certain red bull driver in 2020

user10: alex albon stan? her dad has my vote next election

user11: that’s not a good reason to vote?

user12: a better reason that some others lmao

olliebearman: DO I GET TO GO TO DOWNING STREET?

kimiantonelli: i don’t think that’s how that works

olliebearman: well if y/n y/ln likes f1 then she has to like me right?

kimiantonelli: okay mr big head

yourusername: i saw your sprint win at silverstone kimi, very impressive

kimiantonelli: SUCK ON THAT OLLIE

olliebearman: not fair I’M THE BRIT

user13: the prime minister’s daughter mediating a fight between rookies?

user14: oh baby she’s instigating

yourusername: also for all interested - i will be paying for my own ticket and transport for any race i go to! i’m a big girl with a big girl job, i pay my taxes and not yours

user15: omg queen

alexalbon

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 569,023 others

tagged: williamsf1

alexalbon: so happy to announce that i’ve extended my contract at williams, you can't get rid of me that easily

view all comments

user16: we won

user17: suicide CANCELLED

user18: *postponed just in case the williams isn’t any good

yourusername: woooooooooo 🥳 let’s go alex!!!

alexalbon: why thank you ma’am

yourusername: you don’t have to call me ma’am alex

yourusername: in fact it makes me feel quite old

alexalbon: can i call you mine instead?

yourusename: 😊

user19: what on earth just happened?

user20: chat are we seeing this

user21: hold on, let me get my notepad out

maxverstappen1: happy for you brother! hopefully you’ll be back up near the front this season

alexalbon: thank you max

maxverstappen1: okay now that’s out of the way

alexalbon: ???

maxverstappen1: what the fuck is happening in this comment section sir?

alexalbon: what?

maxverstappen1: you’re not seriously flirting with the prime minister’s daughter?

alexalbon: trust the process

maxverstappen1: is he going to get himself put on a list?

user22: how has this celebratory post descended into alex albon being put on a government watch list

yourusername: i can assure you the only watch list alex is being put on is my own personal one

user23: can she say that?

user24: well we definitely don’t doubt she runs her own instagram now

landonorris: i have many tiktok edits saved of alex if you want me to send them to you

user25: okay now that’s a comment that gets you put on a watch list

landonorris: i am just trying to be a good friend!!!!

georgerussell63: i am electing to ignore the mess in this comment section as we will go through it slide by slide over dinner tomorrow, but congrats alex, williams are lucky to have you

alexalbon: what if i’m not free tomorrow?

georgerussell63: what do you mean? we ALWAYS have dinner together on tuesdays :(

alexalbon: maybe i am busy?

yourusername: hhehehehehe

this comment was deleted

user26: she got sniped by the uk government lol

georgerussell63: good.

alexalbon: ???

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,577 others

yourusername: back in the big smoke but still a busy woman

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user27: does that include being busy with a certain tall, handsome, funny and charming thai formula one driver who races for williams

user28: you know she’s got like a big deal job

user29: alex albon is a bigger deal (idk what she does)

user30: part time editor in chief full time alex albon enjoyer

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63: if that is the bottomless lasange spot in bank we will be having serious problems

yourusername: are you threatening me?

georgerussell63: i’m telling you to BACK OFF

yourusername: @carmenmundt are you seeing this nonsense?

carmenmundt: i just have to let him get it out, all these formula one boys have strange attachments to each other

georgerussell63: I DON’T HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES - ALEX IS MINE

alexalbon: do i get a say in this?

georgerussell63: we shared a throat infection? i can’t believe you’d just cast me aside after that 😞

yourusername: george you are rich enough for therapy, please get some

user31: i came here to appreciate the outfits and have seen people absolutely throwing hands with y/n in this comment section

user31: they’re all verified?

user31: THEY’RE FORMULA ONE DRIVERS?

lewishamilton: they’re really making us look bad in front of the wrong people

alexalbon: please do not rope me into this

yourusername: can you send me toto’s number, i have a complaint to make

georgerussell63: ALEX DON’T LET HER CALL MY BOSS

alexalbon: she’s not calling toto

georgerussell63: oh good

alexalbon: WE are

georgerussell63: i will never forget this

yourusername: i can live with that

user32: also this joking about alex’s flirting getting him on a watchlist but it’s george who might be fucked?

landonorris: @yourusername hey if you come to a race will MI6 kill george?

georgerussell63: why would you ask this?

landonorris: curious…

yourusername: you guys know i don’t have command of like all security in britain right?

alexalbon: and who needs that when i’m right here?

yourusername: exactly

kimiantonelli: george has told me to inform you all he’s going on a social media detox because of your ‘negativity’ and wants to make sure you feel bad

kimiantonelli: no don’t put the end bit

kimiantonelli: stop

kimiantonelli: no i don’t want to tell them to feel bad they should just feel bad

kimiantonelli: why is it still commenting

kimiantonelli: it’s writing what you told it?

kimiantonelli: why are you using text to speech?

kimiantonelli: HAS IT COMMENTED ALL OF THIS

yourusername: how are you people trusted with formula one cars

f1

liked by kimiantonelli, maxverstappen1 and 2,450,287 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, alexalbon, yourusername & landonorris

f1: the first race of the season is here and we’ve got company!

view all comments

user33: someone check on george

user34: i know it was confirmed by them and the literal UK government but holy hard launch

user35: the people have yearned for a real f1 power couple

kimiantonelli: @georgerussell63 look who’s here!

georgerussell63: do you mind?

kimiantonelli: oooooooh you’re so angry she destroyed your homoerotic friendship you’re getting alex withdrawls - you want to let me past

georgerussell63: STAY BACK

kimiantonelli: worth a try

georgerussell63: just you wait until someone worms their way between you and ollie

georgerussell63: then you’ll know how it feels

user36: so how long until alex gets to become a sir

user37: points i think!

yourusername: i think we need bigger stakes than that

user38: TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

user39: ARE WILLIAMS COOKING?

williamsf1: why bother trying to create hype when we can just leave it to y/n

user40: @yourusername if alex gets a win can we declare it a national holiday?

yourusername: i don’t think you guys know how the british government works

yourusername: my dad is prime minister i am not the queen

alexalbon: you’re my queen

landonorris: take this shit elsewhere some of here are lactose intolerant

user41: 2025 is just a simulation at this point

user42: i’m honestly scared at this point

yourusername: thank you for welcoming me to the paddock, i’m so excited to see alex kill it this weekend!

alexalbon: can’t wait to show you what i’m good at

yourusername: you’re good at a lot of things…

landonorris: NOT PARKING

yourusername: that’s not what i was talking about

landonorris: well i can guarantee i am better than alex at whatever it is

alexalbon: i don’t think so and thankfully we’ll never know

landonorris: nuh uh i challenge you

yourusername: ABSOLUTELY NOT

oscarpiastri: btw he has no idea what you’re referencign and is unaware he’s challenging alex to a bedroom activities competition

landonorris: WHAT

alexalbon

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 782,091 others

tagged: yourusername, georgerussell63 & landonorris

alexalbon: best finish ever for williams, got to show off my day job to my lady and gained the prime minister as my dad - do NOT fuck with me on track or you’ll be arrested on entry at silverstone

view all comments

user43: alex albon you have to stop, your swag too good and your girl too pretty THEY’LL KILL YOU ALEX ALBON

user44: red bull knew, they tried to clip his wings

yourusername: alex… we can’t do that

alexalbon: so you don’t love me?

yourusername: i do love you, but that’s not how the government works…

georgerussell63: LOVE ???

georgerussell63: wait i’ll let you guys have your moment (begrudgingly)

yourusername: thanks?

alexalbon: i love you too 🥰

yourusername: you going to let me buy you a drink pretty boy?

alexalbon: only if you let me buy you one right back my gorgeous girl

yourusername: what a gentleman

alexalbon: well i’d do anything for you sooooooo

yourusername: right back at you handsome

user45: is george seeing sense for once

user46: i think it’s the podium haze that knocked him out of his psychosis

user47: he needs to donate his brain to science when he dies

albon_pets: sooooo when do we get to meet larry?

maxverstappen1: always asking the right questions - can my pets come too?

user45: i love how everyone else has lost their minds and max is trying to organise a meet up with the downing street cat

user46: i’d argue he’s gone just as insane, he’s talking to alex pretending to be his cats

lewishamilton: there’s nothing wrong with that!

user47: god i have seen what you have done for others

user48: @alexalbon how did you pull it off?

yourusername: more like how did i pull it off

alexalbon: nuh uh you’re the prize here

yourusername: how bout you get on the podium and be my actual trophy husband

alexalbon: @ everyone watch ur backs in china

yourusername: when he’s determined 😮‍💨

alexalbon: well i got you didn’t i?

yourusername: you’re mental pretty boy

alexalbon: you could say i’m govern-mental

alexalbon: am i right?

alexalbon: i think i have a chance in comedy, right?

yourusername: sure!

georgerussell63: she doesn’t believe in you like i do alex…

yourusername: SHUT UP

fin.

note: yes, yes two alex fics in two days but P5? ummm yep that needs to be celebrated!!

[demonic0angel]

Ma'am, I need more of Dan/Wraith in Arkham 😭 and maybe him managing to get out and meeting Dick again. Pretty please with strawberry cream on top 🥹🥹

(I’m lowkey surprised by how many people like this AU XD It got rather long lmao)

Part 1, part 2, part 4

Selina stared at the man that was sitting in her living room alongside her best friends. Harley was happily chattering his ear off, with Ivy interjecting now and then. The man, Wraith, patiently listened to Harley’s ranting, with only a little objecting whenever she went off-topic too much. He did not breathe and he rarely blinked, similar to a statue.

Or she supposed he was more like a phantom, with his abilities that he had used to help them all escape Arkham when they had attracted too many guards’ attentions.

Although he was creepy and he made the temperature of her living room drop several times, he had helped them all and he was very polite. She couldn’t find any real fault in him except the way her instincts wanted her to not look at him directly, like a haunted painting.

“So now that we’re free, what do you wanna do?” Harley asked. Selina focused back on the conversation, as Wraith hummed and Ivy and Harley turned to look at her with various levels of eagerness.

“There’s a new jewelry exhibit opening up tomorrow. Want to take some diamonds?” Selina asked, speaking up as she glanced at Wraith.

Wraith hummed. “Thank you, but I think I’ll decline. If any of you need help, I am willing to offer my services, but—”

“Is Nightwing still in Gotham?” Harley asked, interrupting Wraith, who glared at her.

Selina raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. He’s still visiting.”

“Actually, I would love to assist you three in any way. My powers are at your service. What time are we going to the exhibit tomorrow?” Wraith suddenly said, looking very eager. Selina blinked at the whiplash before looking at Harley and Ivy, who both looked amused.

It was Ivy who mouthed the words, ‘He likes Nightwing,’ to her, which made her hold back a laugh.

She could remember that little Robin that used to cheerfully break someone’s face with a flying somersault, and that same little boy had grown up into a vigilante with almost flying abilities with the way he moved and fought. Wraith was a criminal, since he was in Arkham, but he didn’t seem too bad. In a way, it reminded her of her and Bruce.

“Well. I think Ivy and Harley can take the other vigilantes, right? I can take Batman and you’ll take Nightwing?” Selina said. Wraith perked up and nodded happily.

How cute. She was so not telling Bruce about this beforehand, so she could laugh about his expression later.

A day passed, and the four of them traveled to the museum when it was night. By now, news of Harley and Ivy being broken out was already known, so security had gotten a little more strict. Still, it was nothing with all of their expertise and Wraith’s unexplained meta abilities. They snuck in easily and looted all of the gold, gems, jewelry, and antiques they saw.

“Where’s your bag?” Selina asked, as she eyed Wraith holding some pearls and gems without a bag to contain it. He was dressed in a dark leather suit that had been originally Bruce’s cat suit— it was nice to hope that he would join her one day— but was now repurposed for Wraith. Her question was answered with a small smile from Wraith as he shoved his hand into his chest, making the gems disappear. Her eyebrows rose but she just gave a nod and moved on.

After that, the bigger and heavier items were given to Wraith to keep. Selina was almost a little worried by how much they trusted him, but Harley didn’t seem to notice and only she and Ivy had some anxiety about it. However, Wraith didn’t seem to care either, and listened to their expertise without any hesitation. It was probably because he was younger than them by at least a decade, she realized.

He was extremely fascinating, and Selina suddenly understood why Harley was so interested in him like a scientist towards a petri dish.

The Gotham heroes finally arrived, just as they loaded up everything in the car. Wraith perked up when he saw Nightwing amongst the vigilantes coming towards them.

Selina couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden cheer on his usually bored or blank expression.

“Okay, Harley, Ivy, you two go back to the hideout. Wraith, you can take me away if we need to, right?” Selina asked, smiling as she recalled Wraith’s intangibility and invisibility abilities yesterday.

Wraith nodded and the other two drove off without hesitation, leaving Selina and Wraith facing the Gotham vigilantes. Wraith wagged his clawed fingers in a greeting at Nightwing, smirking broadly.

“Hello, Nightwing. It’s good to see you again,” he purred. Selina was watching the spectacle gleefully, occasionally glancing at Batman’s covered expression, wondering if she was going to see a good show today.

Nightwing faltered in his steps before he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. However, he answered pleasantly, “Hello, Wraith. I see you’ve befriended the Sirens.”

“Mhm. They helped me a lot so I could see you again.”

Nightwing’s cheeks darkened but through the shadows, Selina felt like she could see a bit of red on his face. “I see. Well, I’ll have to ask you guys to give up the jewelry you stole. We can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

“Please do the hard way,” Wraith purred again, even throatier than before. Selina had to choke on her giggles as Batman stiffened in horror, staring between his oldest son and the criminal.

Nightwing coughed and took out his escrima sticks. “Well, you’re under arrest, Wraith. Surrender and we won’t have to—”

“Oh my god, just fight him! Stop flirting!” Spoiler screamed and then they all flew into action. Selina took out her whip, but before she could make a move, Wraith darted at her, wrapped his arms around her, and then turned invisible before they flew off through the walls.

Selina blinked rapidly as she watched the museum grow smaller and smaller into the distance. “… you could fly the entire time?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, I’m very strong.” There was a touch of deep arrogance in Wraith’s voice. Then he sighed, “But I was told not to make too much trouble. So it’s better to make an early escape than stick around.”

“I would’ve thought that you would’ve stayed to flirt with Nightwing some more,” Selina teased.

“It’s weird to flirt in front of his siblings,” Wraith said in distaste as they flew over the building roofs and past the clouds to Selina’s hideout. “I’ll find another day to fight him without voyeurs around.”

Selina burst into laughter. Yeah, she could completely understand why Ivy and Harley wanted to take him in now. He really was quite interesting.

[ddlydevotion]

dating hamzah al-emad includes...

currently listening to: lust for life by lana del rey ft the weeknd ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Hamzah quite honestly doesn’t have too much experience when it comes to romantic relationships. He’s constantly worried that he’ll do or say something wrong, so please reassure him when the situation calls for it.

he lovelovelovess having you around him as much as possible. You honestly could never “bother” him, even if he’s editing/coming up with video ideas. One day you asked Hamzah if he’d like some alone time to get some editing done and he immediately said:

“no-what are you talking about? Here, come sit down.”

You’re one of the very few people that don’t easily overstimulate him lmao

This man has insane attachment issues when it comes to you and has no issue letting you know when he misses/wants to see you. You could be out of the apartment running errands and your phone will be filled with messages from him.

‘me and the cats miss u very much btw if u even care…’

‘when are you coming homeee ;(‘

Please don’t be shocked when he comes up to you asking for very specific things that he may need for a video involving Martin. For example, where do you think he got the skirt for his White Chicks costume? Exactly.

Even if someone is meeting him for the very first time, they’ll immediately be able to tell he has a girlfriend because he’s constantly wearing something symbolic of you. That bracelet you randomly made him one night? It’s practically glued to his wrist. Your claw clip practically has a home on his belt loop. So, these little things make it pretty easy for people to decipher the fact that he’s taken.

Recording with Martin takes up quite a bit of his time so he’s constantly putting in the effort to see you, hear your voice, and speak with you in general. You’re constantly receiving photos/videos/voice memos from Hamzah when he’s in the middle of filming.

He always makes sure to bring you something back when Martin and him visit a restaurant, or a location that’s stocked up on items he knows you enjoy.

Hamzah has been through a whole lot and has experienced his fair share of loneliness. He isn’t too good with his words/voicing just how much you and your presence mean to him but he tries soso hard. There’ll be a lot of sighs and stutters filling the pauses in his sentences but that doesn’t stop his adoration from shining through.

“I just- I love you so much, y/n. I hope I say it enough, y’know? I’m really serious about you and I know I might not be the most experienced guy when it comes to this, but I hope that doesn’t make you doubt how serious I am about you. Because I am- serious about you, I mean.”

These sorts of conversations tend to happen late at night when the warmth between your two bodies blossoms endlessly. He holds you tight as your cheek is pressed against his chest. He can’t help but hold you the same way he’d hold a knife.

In his eyes, the two of you are in this for the long run and he doesn’t hide his intentions of marrying you. He even slipped up and called you his wife in a video once.

‘Yesterday, me and my wife- well…make that my future wife.’ and then a cheesy lil smirk spreads across his face 😭

He even made the both of you in Sims and made it so that the two of you got married. Mandy and Martin couldn’t help but tease him about it.

He loves you with his entire fucking being and he wants nothing but to be good for you, good to you, be the one to make you smile, laugh, feel at ease. He adores being able to do domestic activities with you since it gives him a glimpse into how it’ll be like once the two of you eventually get married. As I said, he puts in soooo much effort into making you happy so he definitely attempts to get good at cooking so he can surprise you with breakfast in bed/homemade dinner. He stills puts in the effort to learn how to cook even if you already know how to. He wants to surprise you so bad so pls let him (╥‸╥) (even if the French toast he made is a lil burnt)

Follows you around like a lost puppy. His hand is constantly reaching for yours, his arms are instantly wrapped around you as soon as the two of you get into bed, he always makes room for you to sit in his lap.

a/n: I haven’t written in quite awhile but I had to come back since my obsession with this man has worsened this past week 😞. Feel free to send requests 💌🧸

[whyse7vn]

RFWF -

[ ot7 x reader ]

RM’s NUTS

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

jimin: right freak wrong freak

that’s what you should of called ur album joon

jk: rfwf

hobi: ok but who gonna match MY freak

tae: who wanna go band for band

jin: let’s go shower for shower

you first

tae: STOP SAYING THIS

yoongi: lollll

tae: girlfriend tell them i don’t smell fr

namjoon: all of you shut up

jk: rfwf

jimin: who matching joons freak

jin: a JAIL CELL i hope

hobi: cool but i asked first

does no one care about my freak 😔?

y/n: i care

jk: ME TOO ME TOO

hobi: thanks guys >.<

tae: talking about freak this riding that what happened to the namjoon who hugged trees and read books

jk: that’s really bad because how can he show love to the trees by hugging them giving them false security and hope to then go an cut them down to make books

tae: wait ur spitting rn

jk: not true that’s nasty i’ve said this before

namjoon: i have never hugged a tree

or cut one down

jin: cuz you’re too busy writing about riding

you disgust me

yoongi: good pussy

namjoon: can we not please

tae: joon when you said HE a pro rider what did you mean by that?

y/n: happy pride month!!!

jk: who is pride

hobi: joon was talking about tae

tae: WHY WOULD THE PRO RIDER BE ME??

I AM NOT OF RGB DECENT

jimin: didn’t you kiss jungkook

hobi: Lgb

tae: i take NO L’s

hobi: cuz you take DICK

y/n: LMAO

yoongi: tae the biggest dick rider to walk this earth

hobi: yoongi gets it

tae: HOW AM I A DICK RIDER???

hobi: if we think about this logically you dick riding y/n 24/7

tae: OK WHAT

SO ARE YOU THEN????

I WOULD ACTUALLY ARGUE THAT YOONGI DICK RIDES HER THE MOST

jin: tea

yoongi: shut up

jin: ok sorry

tae #1 dick rider

jk: i’m confused

jimin: i vote joons talking about tae

y/n: same

jk: still confused i thought y/n was girl

jin: jk close second but tae takes it

hobi: real

tae: wtf????

hobi: freak of all freaks!!

tae: ok whatever

fine

don’t care

jimin: you accepted that very easily

y/n: my little dick rider 😘

jk: me too please

tae: i mean as long as it’s y/ns dick i’ll fuck around and cream on that shit too like

no shame

y/n: there is something severely wrong with you

jin: wow

yoongi left “RM’s NUTS”

hobi: he takes everything too far

jimin: like

jk: ok i don’t know if i want to be a dick rider anymore

i don’t want to cream

namjoon: jungkook stop talking we are moving on

namjoon added yoongi to “RM’s NUTS”

tae: don’t act like you all wouldn’t cream on her shit too

yoongi left “RM’s NUTS”

namjoon: tae stop talking now

tae: whatever

jk: rfwf

hobi: definitely surpassed my freak

namjoon: y/n

y/n added yoongi to “RM’s NUTS”

yoongi: why

y/n: stay with the family yoongi

hobi: family 💜

jimin: we practice incest here

jk: insect

namjoon: really…

jimin: just saying she literally called us family and you just wrote a song about her riding you

jk: i thought it was about tae

tae: jungkook did it first

jk: i did NOT ride joon

namjoon: guys

jk: I DIDN’T @Y/N I DIDN’T

jimin: she did LMAO

tae: nuts wishes it was seven

namjoon: shut up

hobi: family 💜

yoongi: fuck ur family

jimin: i know a girl that does

y/n: are you mad i don’t fuck you or something???

jimin: LMAO

you wish

jin: WOAHHH

jk: nct wish

hobi: come on family let’s not 💜💜

y/n: trouble with taemin again sighs this is getting old jimin

jimin: don’t talk about taemin

y/n: don’t talk about who i fuck

namjoon: ok guys chill out

tae: hold on ur all typing so fast ohmygod

y/n: tell HIM to chill

jimin: just saying you are most definitely the root of like 95% of our issues as a group

hobi: my root came 2005

wait

jimin wtf??

namjoon: jimin take that back

yoongi: are you crazy??

jk: jimin that’s mean

jin: and unfair

tae: ???????????????

jimin: she fucks you guys knowing there are feelings involved and then acts like everything is normal when you’re all at each others throats

hobi: we would be at each others throats regardless of feelings or whatever

that’s just our dynamic no??

tae: throat talk kinda rgb guys

hobi: L

tae: don’t call me a loser the hell??

also wtf is jimin talking about

jimin: tell me i’m wrong

yoongi: you’re wrong.

jin: you need to back the fuck up jimin it takes two people to have sex you know idk why ur putting this all on her

jimin: i’m just saying

jk: maybe you should stop saying

yoongi: definitely

namjoon: ok seriously everyone needs to shut the fuck up right now this isn’t something we should be talking about now or over text

jimin: yeah you’re right because we SHOULD of had this conversation ages ago

namjoon: you’re pissing me off jimin and this doesn’t actually involve you stop talking

jimin: yeah and maybe that’s the fucking problem namjoon

namjoon: what are you trying to say right now?

jimin: nothing bye.

tae: are we fr fighting

jimin left “RM’s NUTS”

tae: ok we are fr fighting

why did no one tell me we were fr fighting

hobi: can you not read

tae: ok there were a lot of words on screen going very fast may i add and i can only take in what i can take in

y/n: so you took in the word throat

tae: don’t speak to me right now

jin: anways y/n ignore jimin he’s clearly going through something right now

don’t let what he said get to you we’ve talked about this ok?

namjoon: you have?

sorry not important yeah

what jin said

y/n: i know

jimin didn’t upset me it’s fine

yoongi: it’s okay if you were to be upset tho

like later

or something

y/n: yoongi

yoongi: sorry

y/n: i appreciate you

all of you but i’m honestly fine

i’m more concerned about jimin rn

that wasn’t like him

he clearly had something say and he’s normally one to speak his mind fully not just leave half way

jk: yeah :/

namjoon: i’ll talk to him

hobi: no i think i should

no offence or anything joon

just trust me on this one

namjoon: oh

ok

that’s cool yeah

let me know when you do

hobi: thank you

i will

jk: we were on our biggest no fighting streak

this sucks

hobi: i thinks that’s part of why he’s upset

yoongi: 🤨?

hobi: anyways i’ll talk to him

let you guys know

namjoon: cool so uh

jin: did you just type “so uh”

tae: namjoon personally i love it

so…uh

*puts hand behind head bashfully smiles*

hobi: johnny so uh

get it

like johnny suh

y/n: smash

namjoon: nice guy

jk: hobi pls don’t mention the enemy rn

hobi: didn’t you mention nct wish earlier??

what is the harm in mentioning johnny ://

jk: hobi he’s tall

like really tall

hobi: ok??

jin: remember when hobi punched jaehyun lmao

hobi: no moving on

yoongi: i would also smash johnny suh’s head in

tae: YOONGI WANNA SMASH A MANNNN

A BOYYY

MALE HE WANTS TO SMASH A DUDEEEE

RBG BOY RGB BOY

hobi: for the last time it’s lgbt fucking idiot

y/n: homophobia in june is crazy

tae: i’m just saying how it is

yoongi wanna smash johnny spread the word

yoongi: how about you kill yourself

tae: how about no

spread the word

like yoongi spreads his legs for johnny

jk: he’s 6’2 btw

y/n: why do you know that

tae: bet the height difference turns yoongi on real bad

namjoon: okay stop

jk: joon you say stop a lot and nobody stops most of the time so why do you continue to say stop when it is uneffectuve

namjoon: don’t talk to me

jk: oh :c

jin: namjoons stop worked like 2 times today so this is actually a win for joon

tae: yeah the first 2 times in 74 years

hobi: LMAO

jk: i thought joon was 34

namjoon: i’m not even 30 yet

hobi: LOOLLLLLL

namjoon: stop laughing at me

shouldn’t you be talking to jimin rn

hobi: i said i would talk to jimin meaning i would talk to him in the near future further meaning not right now because i don’t want to be verbally assaulted and or blocked

gotta let him cool down you know how he is

namjoon: yeah okay makes sense

cool

going to bed

keep me posted on jimin

hobi: of course

namjoon: gn all

y/n: night joonie ^3^

jk: gn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hobi: night

tae: it’s like 6 tf

jin: it’s 11:45 pm

tae: ok clock wtf

i said it’s like 6 not that it’s actually 6

jin: next time i see you i’m punching you in the face

goodnight namjoon

tae: WOAH??? GUYS ARE YOU SEEING THIS RN????

yoongi: thumbs up emoji

tae: jin just threatened me can we all care rn

jk: i care

tae: you care about the turtles right to freedom of speech

jk: they should be able to speak

tae: you’re a care WHORE

you care for everything

you’re care is worthless overused and slutted out

jk: but it’s still care 😢

tae: used and abused care

jk: 😥😢😭

tae: @y/n do you care

y/n: no

yoongi why did you type out ur emoji

yoongi: couldn’t be asked to look for the emoji in the thing

hobi: wait that’s so real fire emoji praying hands emoji dance emoji

yoongi: thumbs up emoji

jk: how do i unwhoreify my care guys

tae: @hobi do you care

hobi: i am done communicating with you today

tae: @yoongi do you care

yoongi: middle finger emoji

—

#nopeacealllove

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @earth2ela @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @seokmyballs @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @meowgiz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @iammeandmeisiam @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos @featjunranghae @jksgirlfrl

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

"Can I put a bow on it"

✰---summery: in short, leeknow smut. you wanted to do a tiktok Trend with your boyfriend you saw... you didnt know it'd turn into all this but lets be honest youre not complaining

✰---approx: 20 min read

✰--A/n: first part of my smutober series! the other couple parts are coming v soon so stay turned! idk how good this is ive never written smut like this please forgive me if its terrible and ive never written for leeknow. also I figured id just make birthday fics for the skz members born in sep in oct as my take of kinktober but not as kinky lmao please ignore spelling mistakes I wrote this at two am

✰--- warnings/info: kissing, swearing/ dirty talk, smut and lots of it, not a very strong plot I fear, leeknow kinda chokes reader(?), leeknow fingers reader.

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

if you don’t have an age indicator saying you’re not a minor in your blog then I will be blocking you! So minors dni!!

•••••••••••••••••••••

his arms lock tighter around where your plush thighs and knees meet, he pants heavier, drilling into you with such passion your mind goes blank with noting more inside it then dumb babbilling thoughts that bounce around like a computer screen saver.

youre left wondering how you somehow knew it was gonna come to this.

when you had appoched your boyfriend of a year asking him to do some TikTok trend you had been having saved for a while and had rediscovered.

he scoffs at you with a smile "what is it baby?" he cranes his neck to look at you standing beside the sofa. "can I tie a bow around it?" you ask, innocent smile on your face as his eyes widen. when you show him the video of a girl tying a bow around her boyfriends bicep to your surprise he, in one swift motion stands up, circles his arms around your waist them brings you back down to the sofa with him.

"around what?" you can feel his smirk on your spine, hear it in his voice.

you know what hes doing but he can't fool you so easily. you can feel his heatbeat on your back as he presses you against his firm chest. "hm, so you like the idea then baby?" his only response is nibbling at the tip of your ear, pressing his face into you.

a second later and you feel hot air hit your neck, tickling you. "You like my biceps that much, yeah? you like that ive been working out and how big they've gotten?" you fiddle with your own fingers. "maybe." "you like that I can do this--" he turns you around so he can carry you princess style, carrying you to your shared bed.

he flips you down on it, but still being careful to cradle your head even though it only hits the soft blankets on top of the plush mattress. he looks down at you, sprawled out on the bed, the two of yous bed. and he looks at you like youre a master piece, a beautiful piece of art he wants to preserve forever. "I didnt even tell you what I wanna do."

he flops down next to you "im good with whatever." you reach into your jeans pocket to pull out the pretty silk ribbon you'd put there in case he'd say yes. which to be honest you knew he would. He couldn't resist you. not for long anyways. you roll yourself on top of him, legs on either side of his hips as you straddle him. he sits up and you make a show of wrapping the ribbon around his bicep and maybe hes a little miffed you didnt want to wrap it around anything else.

but he quickly recovers because as soon as you move on to his shoulders, rubbing them with just the right amount of pressure hes shivering. starting at the bow, you kiss, nip, then lick his skin. eventually youre at his color bone and then eventually youre at his jaw, though now just peppering it with more kisses than anything.

thats when Minho decides he has enough and flips you around, caging you in as you smile and giggle at each other, a cute little moment-- coupled with you playing with the ribbon.

but filled with want, he couldn't help himself he pounces on you like an animal

You let out a cute little squeel of surprise that turns him on even more. His hard cock is pressed shift your thigh as you’re chest to chest, your hot breath in his ear as he nips at your collar bone. Someone you end up finding his bicep and biting at it, your lips covering his smooth skin. He stops pinning you to the bed in the little play fight you two have going on. Just long enough to whine out a complaint.

“Ahhhh shit jagyia you broke my arm!” You sit up on your elbows and raise your eyebrow “oh stop” you playfully slap him on his knee, knowing he was only joking too “you’re fine.” “I’m bleeding!” “No youre not” “ok but it left a mark” you lean down and plant a light kiss on the very much not marked up place you bit.

He makes a little ~ahhh~ face of contentment along with the sound. “Wow I suddenly it feels so much better” “so all the pain… gone?” You laugh, “is that all you wanted, a—“ he pins you back down, cutting you off because you both well know he would’ve agreed that yes all he wanted was a soft kiss from you. He was not wasting any time devouring you like a man starved. Though you wished he’d direct his attention elsewhere. Further down your body. To your aching core preferably.

He gets there soon enough. Your pretty pussy hot through your panties. He looks up at you once he’s done kissing down your throat and body, his hand gripping onto your breast thumbing over your pebbled nipple. “Oh yes” you whine, knowing he was asking for permission. “Tell me what you want baby” it’s all overwhelming for you. But that’s what makes it so fucking good.

“Wan’ you to make me feel good” he gets a little closer to your heat, pressing his sharp nose to your clothed clit, making you shiver. “Oh yeah,” he mumbles against you,”how?” You knew that he wasn’t going to do much of anything until you said what he so desperately wanted to hear.

"touch my pussy, Min. can't you see im already so wet for you?" you feel him take another deep breath in, inhaling your intoxicating scent. "come on sweetheart you can do better than that. act like you want it." its borderline a command and you love it. your hips buck up into his face, chasing some sort of friction, just anything to satisfy the want you have inside you.

to your surprise he doesn't pin your hips down like usual, letting you buck up into his face a second time. "mmm yeah," he groans, muffled by your flesh. "fuck yeah just like that baby. you want this so bad dont you." and hes right you really did

"I-I" you try to start your sentence. "what's wrong?" he lifts his head up and pouts in fake sympathy for your breathless state, "can't speak baby? c'mon I know you can do both. keep humping my nose, doll."

you bite your lip in consentration "I want you to finger fuck me while you lap at my clit."Minho chuckles "what is my nose not enough anymore? thought you liked it" you roll your eyes and are about to tell him to shut up until he yanks your panties down your legs until the won't go any further and youre stuck having them dig into your thighs. not that you mind though, the sensation adding to the whole lustful feel in the moment. besides you know they won't be there for long. soon enough he'll be pulling them off completely because he can't get enough of you and needs to be as close as he can to your body.

"too bad, they looked so fuckin sexy on you." you dont even get a chance to say anything cause hes diving head first (literally) into your pussy. lapping at your clit just how you asked him to. but it did make your knees weak and your face heat up.

they were just some old underwear you'd had for a little while you had grabbed out th drawer this morning cause they were the first thing you saw. noting special, in fact, the waist band was starting to have the tiniest bit of fraying. but apparently only you noticed. that was the thing about him, no matter what you were wearing or what time of the day it was he always full heartedly thought you looked amazing. and for all the shit he gives you, you know he thinks that every time he looks at you. and by those looks he shamelessly gives you, well, anyone could tell.

he lifts his head, chin glistening. "I can feel how much youre enjoying this baby. want me to finger you now, hm?" he says it with a fake pout, almost in a slight mocking tone. but you dont care. hes right, fuck you really wanna feel his fingers. you pant out a yeah and when he slides in two fingers, the stretch mixed with the pleasure of him already moving and curling them how you like sends you to another planet.

you focus on his face, somehow concentrated but cocky, proud of the reactions he was getting out of you but longing for more. your legs try to squeeze shut but he forces that back open again and again.

and once hes got you cumming around his fingers and you start to sit up he drags you right back down by your thighs, "im not done with you yet." and it sounded like a promise. your lips curve into a sloppy and dazed smile, "good" you commend. "yeah I bet you feel so," he pauses to kiss your collarbone, "empty. without something filling you up dont you?"

"I do. please ,hurry up and fill me with your cock" he breathes in the scent of the skin of your neck, obviously pleased.

somehow you ended up with his cock drilling into your sopping wet pussy, the sounds your bodies moving together were making driving your a bit insane. with Minho behind you, your nose pressed in the fold of his arm as his hand caressed the side of your face and other free arm held onto your hips for dear life for leverage to fuck you better.

he leaned down to your ear “you gonna be a god slut for me? Yeah, gon take this cock” as he presses his thumb into your mouth on your tongue "oh my god, fuck yeah right there, " you moan as his cock drills into your pussy, hitting your cervix, "hm? god isn't here baby."

you moan in pleasure, knees weak and elbows tired from supporting you. "no, no," he exsencuates his words with sharp pumps oh his dick. "moan my name for me baby." you dont question it, the next time you moan you do. its choppy, long and drawn out but you can feel his smile against your neck. "mmmmh" he whines, "letting the neighbors know who's fucking you so good, hm?" you gasp and make another sound of pleasure at his words.

Minho knows full well what hes doing, and between the gruff tone in his voice, his other hand reaching down to rub at your swollen clit the way you like, and the way his other hand is half pressing on your neck with his thumb on your chin... its all so much but in the best way. he pulls you to him, whispering, coaxing you to cum on his cock, squeeze him so so fucking tight like he wants you to, clamp down on him, soffocate his cock till he cums.

with his heart beat against your back and soft kisses on your neck, you get pushed over the edge with your back arching into his chest. and you barely get enough time to recover till he lays you down gently on the bed, cradling your head and kissing your lips. you gasp when he slips back inside your warmth, and he hisses as his pace picks up to a break neck speed, chasing his own orgasm.

as the pleasure turns into overstimulation he fucks into you with newfound vigor. but you dont care, the look on his face above you making you feel euphoric. he cums soon after and youre sure you'll walk a little funny tomorrow.

you fall asleep on his chest, warm as ever. hm, maybe you should ask him to do more TikTok trends more often... wait... that reminds you, shit! you never filmed the stupid thing. well, guess you'll just have to do it again once you wait up.

~end~

thanks for reading! please reblog and or comment if you liked it!

Taglist: @bamtorin

[dreamingofaizawa]

Posession

Ulquiorra Cifer x Fem!Arrancar!Reader

***18+ Fic*** If you are under the age displayed, please find your way to another station.

Warnings: Penetrative sex (p in v), biting/marking, fingering, edging, overstimulation(?), choking/breath play, rough sex, VERY posessive Ulquiorra, spanking (ass and pussy spanking), liberal use of 'master' (both sexual and not) squirting, creampie, cockwarming if you squint, teeny bit of praise kink, dom! Ulquiorra, sub! reader, tiny bit of aftercare (ish), brief mentions of suicide (not descriptive, it’s used as a power grab/show of loyalty)

Word Count: 3.6k

Auhor's Note: Yeeeah....I'm making writer's block my bitch LMAO

Anywho, enjoy the depravity~

Being a fracción was a simple thing, really. Obey. Apologize. Obey. Especially under the fourth Espada, your job was easy. He’s reserved, quiet, but his silence does not convey weakness. It’s calculated, like everything he does. So you must be as well. You match his stoic facade, keep everything in check. You’ve learned to read his every fractional expression, most of his thoughts you’re able to read without struggle. Once you’d begun thinking like him, it became infinitely easier to remain as his fracción and remain unpunished, for the most part. 

With all of that in mind, you can’t fathom what you missed. 

He’s cornered you in your personal quarters outside of your usual fracción duties. If he needs something urgently, he can easily summon you to his side instantaneously. Clearly, it wasn’t urgent enough to warrant a summons. So what exactly do his barely furrowed brows and unusually dark glare mean? You stand, awaiting orders of some kind, while he stalks slowly closer to you. His footsteps are measured, as always. He doesn’t stop, however, when his chest bumps your own. His frame pushes against yours as you easily step backward, matching his pace until your back hits the wall. It isn’t often you can’t read his mind.

“A thousand apologies, Master Ulquiorra, I am unable to discern what you need tonight.” His viridian glare flickers over your features, schooled to match his own usual indifference. The silence is long, stretched thin over the seconds you spend trying to decipher the Espada’s thoughts to no avail. All you can do is study his face. Those piercing, unwavering eyes that you could lose yourself in forever. The tiny tick in his sharp jaw, the tiniest pinch in his brows. Dark lines reminiscent of tear tracks streak down his pale cheeks, drawing the eyes down his neck toward the hollow at the base of his throat. It isn’t often he chooses to leave it exposed. 

“Has anyone paid you a visit today?” The deep baritone vibrates through your body, snapping your thoughts back to the present. No other Espada would dare come to you, unless it were urgent or a special case. None of the humans would bother with you either, even Lord Aizen is far above seeking the assistance of a fracción. He should already know the answer to that question.

“No, Master Ulquiorra.” You don’t bother to elaborate, he hates hearing unneeded explanations. A simple answer is all he ever needs. At the confirmation, his features relax. His expression is blank once again, the calculated persona clicking into place like a puzzle piece. You know you’re one of the very few that can read his micro expressions, if he were talking to any of the other Espada or fracción they’d probably never notice whatever inner turmoil plagues his mind. But you do. 

When he turns to leave, you can’t help but want to ease whatever troubles him. It’s second nature, for a fracción such as yourself. You were made to serve him, to assist him, to do anything and everything necessary to help him reach his goal.

“Master Ulquiorra?” He stops on a dime, casually turning to face you once again. He wants this kept short, he always does. So you don’t bother beating around the bush.

“May I be of any assistance? I can see something is on your mind.” His eyes swiftly trace down and back up your entire form. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d have missed it.

“No. Good night.” Swiftly, he turns and leaves, the door to your room closing softly behind him. How odd. 

The next week is spent assisting the fourth Espada with research of the hogyoku. There isn’t much to be gathered besides what Lord Aizen already knows, and each night you wonder exactly what has Ulquiorra wound so tightly. Yes, his mind still lingers on whatever it is he confronted you about that night. Unfortunately, an answer does not come to you, but instead a new series of questions is given to you when you’re visited once again in your quarters. You feel him approaching long before he arrives, that spiritual pressure is unmistakable. But why is he here?

You’re down on your knees before the door swings open, head bowed down, not from the pressure but out of respect for the man. Lord Aizen steps over the threshold, his footsteps heavy and booming, into the small space of your room. You’ve only ever seen him across a hall or room during a meeting of some kind, and he’s never ever addressed you directly. Any and all orders came through Master Ulquiorra, even if they were from Lord Aizen himself.

“So respectful. Ulquiorra has trained you well, fracción. Stand.” You waste no time, standing at full height and keeping your eyes focused on the ground. Making eye contact could be fatal. You have to tense every muscle in your body to keep from flinching when a large hand reaches out toward your face, and you stop breathing when he grabs your chin and begins to turn your head this way and that. He’s…examining you. Releasing your face, he begins a slow, steady pace circling around you as you stand perfectly still. You don’t know what this is about, but you don’t dare ask, his piercing gaze is more than enough warning not to speak at all, let alone move.

“Very interesting.” It takes all of your resolve not to scream and protest when you feel two large hands, suddenly and harshly, grasp your waist and tug your back against his chest. His chin hooks over your shoulder and his voice is too close, too deep, too dark.

“What a darling fracción. Tell me, why is Ulquiorra so distracted lately? One of my most loyal Espada has been faltering lately.” He’s been faltering? Oh no, what could have him so worked up?

“My sincerest apologies, Lord Aizen. I have not been able to discern his troubles. He has hidden all of his mind from me lately. I have failed as his fracción.” You know you’ve failed. If his mind is so distracted that Lord Aizen has noticed a difference in his performance, then you have failed to be of assistance. You were created for it, and yet you have failed. The ultimate failure.

“Oh, don’t be so down, little fracción. You have not failed, yet.” Yet? What does he mean by that? He releases you from his hold in favor of meeting you face to face, grasping your chin once again and forcing your eyes to meet his own. It’s a terrifying thing, those eyes are pure bloodlust.

“If Ulquiorra were to have you kill yourself for any reason, would you do it?”

“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about the answer. Undeniably, you would. No matter the order, you’d follow through. If Ulquiorra ordered you to kill Lord Aizen himself, you would kill him or die trying.

“Very good, fracción. Such unwavering loyalty is not so common.” Maybe not, but fraccións are created for the sole purpose of mindless loyalty and obedience. It should not be a surprise that you are this way. Though something deep in your psyche tells you loyalty is not the only quality you hold for your master.

Another layer of spiritual pressure falls on the room, but you are unable to look over Lord Aizen’s wide shoulders with your face stuck in his grip. Regardless, you know who has joined you.

“Ulquiorra, I was wondering when you’d arrive.” The Espada’s footsteps halt behind the former shinigami.

“Lord Aizen.” Nothing more than an acknowledgement, but all of the questions you know he wants to ask remain unspoken when dark brown meets deep emerald, their sharp gazes piercing each other. The tension is palpable, for reasons you cannot calculate. Never would you have thought Ulquiorra could level such a glare at the man he’s sworn his loyalty. Your chin is finally released, and a boom resonates through the small chamber, the white fabric on Ulquiorra’s back suddenly filling your gaze as Lord Aizen turns back to face you both. A sonido? Here? Now? In front of Lord Aizen? What is going on with Master Ulquiorra? The thick silence is suffocating, the air itself seems to be vibrating with clashing spiritual pressures and tension. You’re having a hard time breathing, your body feeling heavier the longer the silence stretches. It feels like an eternity passes and you fall to your knees, but you know it can’t have been more than a split second. As quickly as it built, the tension dissipates as you sit there on your knees, panting and sweating in the aftermath.

“Tend to your fracción, Ulquiorra, the way we both know you want to. She may not be privy to your thoughts but I can read you like a book.” Lord Aizen’s smirk is measured carefully, and he’s gone in an instant. You don’t dare move until that spiritual pressure is gone completely, and even then you’re struggling to recuperate. Tenderly, lithe fingers brush away whatever hair had fallen in your face, emerald gaze searching your face as you peer up at him. Searching for what, you don’t know. 

“Stand.” You do as asked, wobbling for a moment while your strength returns. Strong hands, one on your shoulder and one on your waist, steady you. It’s strange, he’s never actually touched you before. Not like this. You don’t know what to do about the sudden feeling in your chest, warmth and contentment spreading like a wildfire to your mind. Even more so you’re left unsure about your newfound feelings, when instead of giving a command he chooses to lift you in his arms. The boom of a sonido is so much different when you’re moving the distance, but not of your own volition. The door to Master Ulquiorra’s quarters is thrown open and you’re unceremoniously tossed onto the large bed.

“Master Ulquiorra?” You can’t help your confusion. The past fifteen minutes have been a whirlwind of unnatural occurrences. His movements are almost frantic as he strides over to the door and seals it shut, locking it from the inside and training those eyes right on you. It’s a predatory glare he pins you with, the viridian swirling with something dark and sultry and filled with an insatiable lust. It makes your carefully crafted mask of indifference crack and splinter, eyes widening as your body curls into itself. You aren’t afraid, not of him. But something in his eyes just screams danger, and you can’t help the blistering heat coiling in the pit of your stomach nor the involuntary squeeze of your thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed. Before anything else, a tension settles over the room much like earlier.

“What was Lord Aizen’s business with you?” What a strange question.

“He asked if I knew why you were lacking in your duties lately. I couldn’t answer.” His chest rises and falls heavily, a muscle in his jaw tensing momentarily.

“Was that all?” You shook your head, not at all inclined to keep anything from Ulquiorra. 

“He asked if I’d kill myself at your order.” He went eerily still, every muscle in his body tensed and ready like a coiled snake.

“And your answer?”

“Without question. I would do anything you asked of me, Master Ulquiorra.” The glare he levels you with is primal, carnal desire. There’s no question about it, his entire being is consumed by lust. In the time it takes you to blink, he’s got you pinned to the bed with a hand wrapped tight around your neck, his lips claiming yours in a display of barely controlled dominance that has your entire body trembling. Teeth grab at every piece of skin he can reach. Blooming bites and bruises form along your jaw and neck, carefully skirting around the hollow in your own chest, his fingers squeezing around your throat in increments sending your vision blurry. Your clothes are shredded off your body and you’re left completely exposed for the arrancar keeping you pinned to his bed. Pain shoots through you, jolting your body, the sensation of teeth burying into your shoulder and it’s all you can do to bite your lip to stay quiet. The hand on your throat squeezes, Ulquiorra’s voice rattling your brain.

“I want to hear you. Not a single noise you make will be stifled.” It’s a proclamation, a statement of fact, rather than a request or demand. The next bite is accompanied by a sharp pinch, your nipple peaked between his index finger and thumb as he tugs at it, your voice coming out in a yelp and slowly melding into a low moan while he toys with your breasts. 

“Beautiful.” That single word sends shivers down your spine. There isn’t a single moment you can remember being praised in any way, and your head is spinning from it. His mouth continues its assault on your skin, following the curve of your shoulder and down your breasts. You can see the bite marks scattered over your chest, it lights a fire beneath your skin you can’t quite describe. He takes his time marking you, one hand ghosting over you and the other remaining planted on your neck, his lips mapping your body. You’re trembling from the attention he’s lavishing you with, you know he can feel the way your body shakes from all the stimulation. When his wandering hand finally reaches between your thighs, you’re shy knowing how messy you’ve become. His fingers are toying with the folds of your pussy, teasing around the entrance and barely ghosting over your swollen clit, his lips still sucking and biting and marking. He’s claiming you, completely dominating your being and making you his. 

He’s squeezing your throat in longer stents now, giving you short spaces to breathe between the dizzying cut off of your air supply. He can see the effect it’s having on you, your legs weaker as they try to close around his hand toying with your cunt, tears falling down your cheeks, your eyelids fluttering shut the longer he keeps your breathing controlled. And your pretty pussy is leaking so much more now, dripping onto his sheets and soaking his fingers. His emerald gaze stares up at you when you reach up and grasp at his arm, weakly clawing at him for a breath. He loves seeing you like this, completely reliant on him, even to do something as simple and basic and breathing.

The edges of your vision spot black and you’re shaking harder the closer you get to unconsciousness. You can’t fight it much longer, as much as you want to. Your eyes roll back into your skull as two long fingers plunge into your pussy and you’re granted air once again, the gasping breaths you take making your head spin and the fingers buried deep inside you curl up to hit a spot that makes your back arch up off the bed. It’s euphoric. You’re shaking hard, your legs clamped around Ulquiorra’s hand as something snaps in your abdomen, sending you head first into a freefall of blinding pleasure. Your guttural moans bounce off the walls after being ripped from your lungs, a sinful melody in the arrancar’s ears. When you can finally focus again Ulquiorra is standing above you in all his naked glory, clothing tossed into a random corner. He’s a beautiful man, pale skin flawless and smooth, and you can’t help the way your eyes trace down his toned body to lock onto his hard leaking cock as it stands proud.

“Get on your knees. Turn around and present yourself to me.” The command is clear, the dominant cadence of his voice making you tremble as you obey your master. Dropping your chest to the bed, you spread your knees and grip the sheets tight between your fingers, exposing your ass and cunt to the lust crazed Espada. Shivers wrack your body from the groan he lets slip past his lips, you yelp and jolt when a sharp slap lands on your bare pussy. 

“Look at you. So obedient, so submissive. Such a pretty, slutty little fracción for me.” A moan is punched from you at the praise, and your cunt clenches down around nothing. One hand smooths over one of your ass cheeks and slides up your back, reaching all the way to the back of your neck and keeping steady pressure, pinning you in place. Again you clench around nothing as Ulquiorra teases the tip of his cock at your entrance, never delving further, bumping your clit and making you jump with every pass. You know better than to speak out of turn, but you can’t take it anymore.

“P-please…” Everything halts, even your breathing stops at the realization of what you'd just done. A heavy hand slaps your ass, leaving a blooming red mark in its wake, your whole body jerking at the contact and a moan tearing from your throat. Another slap lands in the same place, harder this time, and another. They keep coming until your moans are sounding more like screams, but Ulquiorra knows better, the gush of your cute pussy giving away just how much you’re enjoying yourself. Mercifully, he rubs at the raw skin in soothing circles.

“A fitting punishment, don’t you think? For speaking unprompted,” you nod as much as you can still pinned beneath him, tears staining your cheeks and the bedsheets.

“Y-yes, Master Ulquiorra.” You can’t see it, but you can hear the devious grin in his voice. If only you had the pleasure of witnessing such an expression.

“Good girl, you’re learning.” Your loud moan is swallowed by the sheets.

“Oh? You like the praise, sweet thing?” It’s formed as a question, but it feels like he’s taunting you, like it’s something shameful to enjoy. You can’t bring yourself to answer, embarrassed to be so affected by his praise. His hand comes down again on your still painful ass.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.” Between small hiccups and sniffles, you squeak out a response.

“Yes! I love hearing your praise, Master.” Satisfied, he chuckles, deep and dark and dangerous. He doesn’t bother speaking anymore, focused solely on dragging out your torturous pleasure as long as he can endure. His fingers are shoved into your pussy, ripping a groan out of you and he sets a punishing pace, pumping and curling and spreading to prepare you to take his sizable cock. You can feel that sensation again, tightening in the depths of your belly, feel your legs begin to shake like before, whines and moans spilling into the room. But just before that tension snaps, you’re left empty. You could cry, being denied that release. Ulquiorra just laughs again before rubbing tight, quick circles into your clit to build up the tension again. You desperately want to beg him to let you cum, want to sing his praises in hopes that he’ll pull you over that blissful release, but you know you can’t. Your chest is heaving, entire body shaking as he builds you up to the point of snapping, only to stop just before you’re shoved over the edge again. You cry, sob as another orgasm is stolen away from you. Your body is shaking so hard he doesn’t even have to move his fingers to rub at your clit, just hold them while you tremble and let you work yourself to that peak again and again. Then he stills completely, listening to your pathetic sniveling at being denied so much pleasure.

“Go ahead. Beg.”

“Please! Please Master Ulquiorra make me cum! I want to feel it so bad, I need it. I can’t take any more, please make me cum!” You can hear his evil chuckle, he’s adoring this. In one fluid motion he buries his aching cock all the way to the hilt, your scream is punched from your lungs and your vision blanks, his heavy balls slap against your clit as he slams into you with his full weight. You can’t hear anything as you cum hard, feeling liquid gush from your cunt and drip down your legs, squirting all over Ulquiorra’s thighs. He doesn’t stop, leaning over you and pounding into you until he feels his own orgasm quickly approaching. Shaking is all you can do, pinned down and at the mercy of your master as he empties into you, hot ropes of thick cum filling you to the brim as he finally stills. 

You’re both sucking in heavy breaths in the aftershock, slowly he releases your neck and lays the both of you down on your side, cock still plugging your cunt, keeping all his cum inside you. He holds your trembling form close, gently massaging your shoulders, hips, neck and thighs. Every piece of you that he’s sure aches, he tenderly soothes. It takes a long while for you to pick up the shattered pieces of your mind, he can see your eyes regain their focus as he places soft kisses over your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” You blink away some of the daze, nod slowly to answer. The both of you hiss when he slips his soft cock from you, sensitive as ever. He flips you around to face him, tugging your body over his own so you’re laying on top of him. His fingers caress down your back and massage your scalp and neck, further grounding your mind. It’s comfortable, sweet. You don’t want to be anywhere else. Gently, he turns your head to look into your eyes.

“For the last week I have battled with the notion that you were not solely my own fracción and you would be stolen away by another Espada.” A small, lazy smile graces your features. What a silly concept.

“I’m not going anywhere, Master Ulquiorra.” His gaze turns possessive.

“Of course you aren’t, my dear fracción,” his hand grips your chin firmly, eyes piercing your own, “You belong to me, and only me.”

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Chapter 16

Story Masterlist

Arranged marriage AU

Interact with this linked post to be added to the tag list.

Entire chapter is Dion’s/Ash’s POV, takes place during the day of chapter 14 during the beginning scene of when Dion and Reader share a moment that is not nice in her mind. He is also out of character again lmao

Edit: LMAO I FUCKED UP THE TITLE OF MY OWN FIC. can you tell I wrote this entire thing in one setting while very tired? God now I need to check the other chapters lol

NOTE: Dion is having a very small crisis towards the end. Also, I do not know how to write fight scenes. I’m also getting kind of tired of saying ‘male’. Also two chapters within two days!? I'm on a roll baby! (I will proceed to not update for at least a week since life gets in the way/motivation/ideas won't come to me)

Warnings: slight yandere themes, themes of obsessive and possessive behavior/thoughts, toxic marriage/relationship, murder, blood, threats of injury/murder, slight torture (probably?), mention of divorce (it almost does not end well, rip Ash lol), Dion accidentally gets hurt (it’s his own fault), attempted murder, mention of past murder, implied murder (I think?), implied threats of injury, thoughts of imprisoning the reader at the end but he decides against it, implied stalking, HEAVY VIOLENCE Dion’s actions are toxic no matter how you look at it. Please tell me if I missed any.

NSFW-ISH WARNINGS:  (NO SEXUAL ACTIVITY ACTUALLY TAKES PLACE) suggestive, implied vaginal pain (I think), throw back to their first time, implied perverted thoughts (Dion), Lant once again being a pos, encouraging Dion to force himself on the Reader, implied/mentioned past sexual activities, implied past Dub-con. Please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANIZED AS THEY ARE EXTREMELY DANGEROUS AND TOXIC.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS, BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT WITH OR REBLOG FANDOM RELATED THINGS (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI

“How's married life?” 

Boredom fills the voice of the redhead doctor as he dabs a cotton ball on the patient’s wound, crimson soaking into the fluffy white cotton. Once done treating it, he starts to wrap it up a little too tight, irritated that a certain Agriche got distracted, slipped down a slope full of sharp rocks and thus, sliced his arm open. So unlike him and yet, he still saw it coming from miles away.

God forbid if anyone in this hunting party listens.

“... why are you asking?” Dion questions back, narrowing his eyes, glaring daggers into the very doctor who’s treating his wounds. Still, it’s not like Ash would harm any of his patients, as he was well above that. Even with someone like him.

However, Dion Agriche often challenges his views and morals. He had always thought of the second eldest as a fool - however, ever since he got engaged to you, he became more so of one. While smart and talented in many areas - hunting, sword fighting, ballroom dancing, leading hunting parties for both monsters and animals alike, maybe a musical instrument or two if memory serves correct, and of course, assassinting - by the Gods, is his personality a nasty one.

“Am I not allowed to? After seeing the mess she was after your first night… I worry for her. Poor girl probably lost faith in God the moment she saw your face.” Ash bites back, tying the bandage up and securing it with pins before patting it down hard. He holds back a smile when THE Dion Agriche flinches at the pain.

It doesn’t matter if it was physical or emotional - pain is pain. Although, it would be better if it was both, finally hitting his employer where it hurts the most. But Dion always bites back.

“You’re rather mouthy for someone I could cut down easily.” Dion's threat is empty, but the urge to throttle the doctor remains. While he wouldn’t kill the man, putting him in a full body cast would settle some things.

Ash only sighs with a shake of his head. Gesturing your husband to put his shirt and black arm sleeves back on, the redhead starts to clean and put his medical supplies away. Currently, the two of them are alone in a tent that was hastily set up, the rest of the hunting party members outside eating dinner. The sun had barely set.

“Come now, I even tended to the poor girl as a free favor. Surely, answering a question or two isn’t that hard - consider it payment for that black eye I left with.”

“And I’ll leave another one on the other eye.”

“... why must you always be so violent? It’s clear that your wife isn’t fond of violence - much less you.” He hits where it hurts, patting the ‘poor’ man’s shoulder as he buttons up his uniform shirt. He watches with great interest when the black haired noble stiffens before resuming his task.

‘So, it’s not going all that great…’

“I mean, it’s only natural for me to ask, taking the fact you personally invited me to the wedding into account.” Ash continues to dig for answers, enjoying the way his scarlet hues become hollow and unfocused. Had he been a better man, the doctor would have pity the newly wed noble some more. 

But Dion Agriche is nowhere close to even a decent person.  

“It’s…,” his low and tired voice trails off before he stands and straightens his clothes out, “fine. Nothing for you to worry about.” A lie paired with another lie. How unlike him. 

“Hm. Sure.” 

Dion leaves the tent without another word, leaving the doctor behind.

As soon as he steps out, one of his men rushes over to him. Dion's mood only sours more, not wanting to interact with anyone just yet.

“Sir, we haven’t found any traces of the monsters. The entire area is empty.” The jet black haired noble can’t stop a brow from raising. 

The brunette delivers the news in a hurry, out of breath. Your husband notices the way he tries to keep his voice down, eyeing everyone behind him. Weird. 

Closer inspection revealed the dirt on his boots and leaves in his hair. But towards the chest, there’s a speck of red on the purple accents that’s barely hidden away by the cloak. 

It’s even slightly damp. His sleeves look a bit too short as well. The gloves don’t look right, not fitting the fingers, slightly sliding off with each gesture of his hands. Scarlet eyes zone in on them before returning to the soldier’s face.

The hair looks a bit lighter. The eyes are a bit deeper.

“How far did you go?” Dion asks as he comes back down to earth.

“Oh!” The soldier straightens up before going on to tell him the details. Your husband listens with little interest, already looking at the area from where the soldier just came from. And then, he glances around the camp, eyes landing on each person once. Once he’s done with relaying the information, Dion walks past him. 

The brunette follows. “Is something the matter, sir?” He follows until the chatter of the camp becomes distant. He runs into Dion’s sturdy back as the man comes to an abrupt stop. Gently rubbing his nose, the shorter man backs up.

“I must admit you have guts.” Dion’s voice is low, mockery laced in it despite ‘praising’ him. 

“...huh?” 

In a flash, his gloved hand slams the other man’s neck against a tree trunk. The bark bites into the exposed skin of his neck while his face turns red. Gasping for breath, the man makes a futile attempt to claw at Dion’s gloved hand.

His legs kick and kick, but it does little to help. Scarlet eyes stare at him emotionless, and the sight of the glowing orbs sends chills down his spine. “It’s amusing how you thought you could replace one of my men.” He chuckles low and deep, increasing the pressure on the poor man’s neck.

“But I have memorized each and every one of their traits - from their eye color to the way they even walk. Not to mention I didn’t order them to look for any monsters in the near vicinity.”   

The black haired man considers snapping his neck right at this moment. But his actions are halted when he hears a twig snap under someone’s foot.

He scowls once the familiar voice reaches his ears. His eyes narrow at how annoying the new addition sounds.

“Is this really necessary? How about we find out what happened to the victim before killing the perpetrator,” Ash advises as he gets closer. He stops once he’s two feet away from the now angered man.

Close to being enraged but not yet, irked that one fool thought he was stupid while the other had just interrupted his actions.

“Dion.” Ash tries again. “Ask questions first. You can do whatever with him later, after we get answers.” 

A hiss of annoyance and Dion drops the man. While he’s coughing for breath, with his boot Dion delivers a hard kick to the imposter’s stomach that has him wheezing for breath. Ash sighs in exasperation at the scene unfolding before him. 

‘Once a brute, always a brute.’

“Talk. Maybe I’ll be merciful depending on your answers.” 

“Arg! W-wait, fuck, wait!” He raises his hands as he surrounders. “I’m not the one who killed him - I was just given the uniform. Honest!”

The two standing men share a look.

“Regardless of who killed him, didn’t you at least consider that maybe everyone would notice you weren’t originally part of the party?” Ash squats to the enemy’s height, observing the hand mark that now decorates his neck. “Unless you’re an idiot.” 

“I wa-wasn’t supposed to get too close to the others… just to lure you away.” He stares up at your husband the entire time while clutching at his stomach. Saliva drips from his mouth as he shakes. He looks more pathetic than a terrified dog.

“How far? I’m assuming just a bit further away from here.” The Agriche continues the integration. His head tilts when the idiotic imposter nods. 

Ash looks up at him. “Should we call for reinforcements? It’s probably not a good idea for you to go alone.”

“I’m not alone. I have you.”

“...huh?”

- - -

Against his own will, Ash follows close behind the prisoner and warden. His arms are wrapped around himself as a cold breeze starts to pick up. His long red hair sways in the wind as Dion’s hood flops back due to the direction of the sudden wind.

“I’m not a fighter, you know this.”

“Right.”

“I’m a doctor - I help the wounded, I don’t give injuries. I don’t even have the training of a swordsman - unlike you.” Ash continues to complain, wanting nothing more than to kick your husband straight in the ass. 

“Right.” Dion’s one word replies are dismissive - the doctor doubts he’s listening at all. 

All the while the brunette is being dragged by the collar. He only listens in silence as the two assumed co-workers or something of that sort have a one sided argument or conversation. He can’t tell what it was. 

“You have like what, thirty men?”

“Thirty five.” He takes a pause before correcting himself. “Well, now it’s thirty four.”

“Thirty four? And you choose me, a weak and mild doctor -”

“More like an annoying one,” Dion cuts in, starting to regret bringing Ash along. He forgot how… yappy he can be. Even with the amount of money he pays him, he always has something to complain about. 

“... If your wife ever divorces you, I’ll help her in every way I -”

SNAP

Twigs break in half under your husband’s feet, the prisoner choking as the taller man turns on his feet so quickly it gives him whiplash. Ash immediately shuts his mouth as shadows start to cover the sharp features of Dion’s face. His eyes glow in the moonlight. His scarlet eyes are narrowed, filled with unsaid threats, glare so sharp it cuts into his very soul. 

The redhead takes a step back as his employer towers over him. He breaks out into a cold sweat, the forest having become silent - like every animal in the vicinity sensed the bloodlust of this obsessed man and went into hiding. 

It feels like death itself is breathing down his back, his stomach twisting and turning painfully. His mouth becomes dry, and he can hear every breath Dion takes. So, this is what it feels like, to be on the sharp side of Dion’s blade.

He gulps, Adam's apple bobbing. The air becomes suffocating. 

“... it was a joke.” Ash says slowly, unable to look away from the grim reaper. A quick glance to his hands shows that they are both tightly clenched. The enemy is shivering in fear as well, worried for his own safety.

One wrong move and he’ll lose his head, it doesn’t matter if he wasn’t involved with the conversation. The fact he’s here at all spells out his doom.

This rage was different from the one that was directed towards him. He doesn’t know who the wife - you are, but at the mention of divorce, Dion became a different man. A worse man.

Did you mean that much to him? Or was it a pride thing?

“...A joke? I didn’t realize my marriage was a joke to you.” Husky and deep, your husband’s voice sends chills down the other two spines. Each step carries weight and the poor man dragged along regrets ever taking the job. 

“No, I don’t think your marriage is a joke… I’m sure she’ll open up to you. Eventually. Just a bit.” Trying to soothe the pissed man proves to be futile.

Ash doesn’t understand why Dion was so smitten with you. You were strangers prior to the engagement - only shared a space in the ballroom without interacting with each other. However, one memory that will never be erased from his mind was when the then nineteen-year-old had pointed at you with his red eyes and declared to the doctor he would marry you during a ball that took place a year ago.

Right after you and the Agriche accidentally locked eyes.

Ash always knew he was mental. Just not to this degree. 

“Listen, I’m sorry; I overstepped. Let’s just get this done - the faster we finish the faster you can return home. Maybe not into her arms, but at least you’ll see and hear her voice. Right?”

At the mention of that, the murderous man calms a little, but the looming threat of being cut down is still in the air. In the moonlight, your husband looks imposing, his red eyes glow as his short black hair moves along with the wind - all he’s missing is the scythe, standing tall and oh so close to putting his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Ash slowly lowers his hands when Dion sneers at him one last time and turns his back. Tension still in the air and in everyone’s body, they continue the walk. Each step is on the verge of being heavy, but caution prevents them from dragging their feet. The captive was soon thrown over Dion’s shoulder, the sound of dragging getting on his nerves while Ash brought up the amount of noise it made. 

The captive and Ash stare at each other in silence. He almost feels bad for the man, but the doctor quickly reminds himself that he was his employer’s enemy - if he pities him he might cave in and help. But helping would mean that Dion would cut his pay, assuming he doesn’t put him six feet under. 

Or both.

“... we’ve been walking for a bit now. Maybe you should turn around to let the man get a view. We might have taken a wrong turn.” The doctor suggests as Dion hums, considering it. He halts and drops the man who lands face first on the ground. Dirt gets in his eyes, groaning in pain as he rubs it out. 

“If you try to run I’ll cut your legs off.”

“And this is why you don’t have any friends.”

The captive listens in confusion, baffled that there’s someone who can shit talk the infamous Dion Agriche and live. A pause and he stands to his full height, a head shorter than your husband. Dusting himself off, he quivers under Dion’s sharp gaze. His voice cracks as he looks around before giving them directions. 

Or at least, attempts to. 

Swoosh 

Thud!

“Wha!?” Ash backs away as an arrow impales the imposter’s head. He falls to the ground immediately, eyes becoming lifeless. Blood pools underneath his head as some drips down his face. Dion whips his head to the right, where the arrow came from. 

Swoosh

Before it can hit him, Dion catches the arrow with his hand after rushing in to save Ash. He snaps it in two easily. The forest becomes quiet. Both men look to the right, but sense nothing. 

The Agriche feels a hit to his pride once he realizes that he had just lost his prey. His scowl deepens, and Ash squats to investigate the dead body that lays on the cold ground. 

Gently, he lifts the head, getting a good look at the fatal wound. Upon closer inspection, the head of the arrow was dipped in a purple liquid - most likely poison. He glances at the man standing behind him, but quickly returns his attention to the corpse. 

‘Not that it matters if he got hit… he’s immune to most if not all poisons. Oh, but what if he’s not immune to this one?’

The doctor mentally questions as he looks over his shoulder again. Only to be met with the sight of Dion licking the arrow head, tasting the possible poisonous liquid without a second thought. Ash blinks blankly.

‘Are all Agriches like this?’

“It’s poison -” the black haired man starts before he gets interrupted, holding the urge to throttle his employee back. It’s so tempting.

“Obviously -”

“- that’s made from Mellow light*” He finishes while he glowers at Ash. “How unfortunate. Had I known it was drenched in it I would have let it hit you.” A crooked smile plays on his lips as the redhead furrows his brows at the younger man's ‘teasing’. 

“Ha ha. That’s enough from you - what do you want to do with the body?” He looks at the corpse next to him. “Should we burn it? Or bury it?” 

“We’ll bring it with us.” Answer your husband. Without another word, he grabs the corpse by the collar of the shirt and drags it alongside him. “It’d be interesting to see their reactions.” 

Ash stays quiet. 

- - -

“Where’s the doctor and the young master?” 

“I saw them heading that way…”

“Were we abandoned?” 

“Do you honestly think they would do that? Master Lant would have a field day if the young master just up and left. Even if he’s the favorite, he wouldn’t be able to get away with doing such a thing.” 

Chatter fills the air as the soldiers scratch their heads. Stars twinkle in the night sky, and yet despite the pretty sight, only tension is present. Everyone is tense as some look around them to make sure nothing or no-one surrounds them.

“Actually,” one young man starts after he looks around, “where’s Adam? I haven’t seen him since we got back.” 

“Maybe the young master disposed of him.” One says casually.  

“Or he was eaten by a monster and that’s why the other two left - to investigate. It’s normal for them not to say anything sometimes.” Another man offers up, scratching his head despite the implication that their fellow soldier is dead somewhere.

It’s a normal occurrence they’re used to seeing rather than experiencing - it was only a matter of time until someone from their group would die in action or get disposed of by one of the Masters.

Despite their unease, they stay at the camp, weapons ready and alert about their surroundings. The night was still young and the person in charge was missing. 

- - -

They stopped at an abandoned cabin. However, like the fools they are, chatter is loud enough to be heard from outside, and a lantern was lit inside, showing the silhouettes of people through the windows. Two people stood guard outside, Dion and Ash hiding near the trees. 

“Talk about being obvious,” Ash mumbles under his breath, staring at the sight with furrowed brows. Wasn’t this a little too easy? Out in the open, did they think that the night alone would conceal their presence?

Or maybe this was a trap. Making it look too easy so attackers would act cocky or something along those lines. Acting without thinking. Makes it easy to -

“This is dull.” Dion walks out into the open, clearly having no intention of staying hidden. Unlike the swordsman, the doctor says in hiding. He sighs, shaking his head as he quietly prays for the poor souls. Three strikes of his sword and both are on the ground, dead. One with a slash to his neck and the other was pierced with Dion’s sword to his head. Their bodies fall to the ground with a ‘thud’. 

Then, he kicks the door in without warning, caution thrown into the wind, the corrupted noble acting out of character. Slowly, the doctor follows after, watching from the doorway as your husband swings his sword to slash someone’s eyes, making them blind. The Agriche jumps back when one of the men thrusts their sword with all his might towards your husband’s chest.

He deflects it easily. 

From the doorway, Ash witnesses as the younger male swipes his opponent from his feet, his booth making contact with their own, causing the enemy to trip over. Dion wastes no time in bringing his sword down, blood splattering on his boots and floor, the hem of his cloak also now stained as he kills him. There is no remorse in his red eyes. 

The doctor shivers. 

Two capable men remain. They look at the brooding figure like he was a beast - and perhaps he was, the man emotionless when it comes to his victims. Shaking in their boots, their hold on their sword’s hilts loosen. Their eyes are so wide it’s cometical.

“Remember to leave one alive,” Ash shouts from the doorway. Dion doesn’t spare him a glance as he rushes forward, and another man is killed. Blood is shed and none of it is from him. 

The man who was blind by the Agriche writhes on the floor, palms pressed against the wound as he tries to soothe it. He’s also sobbing, and for a moment, the sound reminds your husband of you.

He’s quickly ripped out of his thoughts as his opponent dashes towards him, lifting his sword and is about to bring it down before Dion just… stabs him in the chest. The sword falls to the floor with a clatter as the man cripples over in pain. Slowly, life fades from his eyes, your husband taking it upon himself to end his life faster.

The sight is reflected in scarlet eyes and their owner feels nothing. He’s all but a canvas painted a bright red, no more room for anything else to be added, black fading at the corners.

The wails of the now blind man reach his ears. He turns on his feet, realizing he should have let one of the enemies who could still see live. A blind man can only help so much with directions. 

Dion takes a quick glance around the one room cabinet only to realize one thing - there are no arrows. Whoever the archer was, they were not here. His eye twitches but he calms himself as he looks at the injured man on the floor, blood dripping from his eyes onto the wooden floor.

His steps are heavy, the floorboards creaking under his weight. Ash reaches the new victim before Dion does. He only stares, standing above him as the doctor checks out the gash. 

“F-fuck! You - you -” The nameless man stutters out before he stops to sob, the pain unbearable. Ash doesn’t blame him.

“He’ll kill you if you keep talking without permission.” A half-lie, the doctor giving your husband a look. “Just keep your mouth shut until spoken to.” Reaching into his coat's inner pocket, he brings out a small bottle full of some type of medicine. 

Dion scoffs as the doctor rinses out the wound, dusting himself off as the wails get stronger. Louder. What was the point of performing first aid? It’s not like he’ll live for long.

Without heistance, Dion kicks the man in the stomach once Ash is done ‘treating’ him. He’s getting impatient - their idiotic and poor attempt to kill him, to trick him was only making the length of his mission longer. He could be with you right now. Watching as your chest slowly rises up and down as you sleep, as his insomnia prevents him from joining you.

He could be in your shared bed by now, the only time you don’t squirm under his gaze. When he can trace the contours of your face with his eyes, wishing that he could do it with his fingers instead. 

He directs his attention back to the matter at hand. Thinking about you only distracts him.

“Talk. The longer you lie or stay quiet, the longer I’ll beat you.” Not a complete lie. He swears he’s trying to be a bit less brutal. For you.

But it’s hard when it was hardwired into his very being at a young age.

“I-I don’t -”

THWACK

Another kick to the stomach that has the man wheezing. Drool flies from his mouth as he doubles over in pain. His entire body feels wrecked, his eyes fucked for the rest of his life, no matter how short. Breathing hurts but his lungs won’t stop seeking for oxygen. The burning sensation almost makes him wish he was dead. 

“Ugh… I-I was ju-just ordered to be stationed here…” He braces himself for another kick that never comes. However, he doesn’t delude himself into thinking that the threat before him has decided to let him rest. He knows that Dion is planning something else. 

And he’s scared to find out what.

“So you’re mercenaries. Who hired you?” The interrogation continues. 

“I-I didn’t see his fa-face… he wore a ma-mask. Dark blue. A-a bit shorter th-than you." The mercenary gives details as he prays that his death will be a swift one. He knows he’s not leaving alive. 

- - -

The matter was out of their hands now. He has to report everything to Lant, and wait for further instructions. It’s a routine he hates.

He’s treated no better than a show dog.

“At least you’re almost done with the original task.” The doctor tries to be positive.

Dion doesn’t answer as he brings the blind mercenary with him. Unlike with the first one, he carries this one over his shoulder the entire trip back to camp. It’s quicker and easier, while dragging him would slow him down a bit. 

It doesn’t make him dislike it any less. 

“Surprised you kept him alive.” The doctor stares at the unconscious man as he walks behind Dion. “What about the rest of the bodies?”

“We leave them as a message,” is all your husband says. What a crude thing to do, Ash thinks. But he doesn’t comment on it further. 

By the time they reach camp, the soldiers look on in shock as their leader returns covered in splatters of blood with a man on death’s door slung over his shoulder. 

- - -

  “...you want me to do what?”

“Take the money and buy the necklace I told you about earlier. I’ll either be kicked out or they’ll run away immediately as soon as they see me.” He gestures to his messy appearance.

“Just take off your cloak! Wash your face! Besides, what will your wife think if she ever finds out I was the one who got it!? She’ll think that you’re lazy and it’ll only make her view of you worse!” 

The hunting party is on the outskirts of a town they passed by on their way to the hunting grounds. Dion stares at Ash with money in his hand, silently ordering him to take it and buy a necklace that matches your pretty and lovely eyes. 

Dion had passed through the town himself a few weeks ago while out on a different mission. Curious, he decided to check out the local jewelry store. He was only supposed to take a peek, not leave with plans to buy a certain piece. The only reason he didn’t get it right then and there was because he forgot his wallet. 

He still holds that against himself to this day. While it’s true he could have used his status as being part of the Black Clan, it didn’t sit right with him. How soft has he become?

It’s all your fault. And yet, he doesn’t hold it against you. It’s impossible to do so.

“... I suppose you’re right.” 

“Then go get it yourself!” 

The blind and unconscious mercenary is forgotten on the carriage that also holds some monster parts.  

The soldiers in the background try their best to ignore their conversation. But it’s hard when the doctor’s frustration is bursting through the streams, clearly done with their leader. While it was common knowledge among this group of how the two butt heads, it’s a secret outside of it.

For a mere common doctor to go against a child of Agriche, it would be a death sentence. Especially with his occasional condescending remark or tone that would bring punishment or even death for anyone else. However, for whatever reason, Ash Katopodis was the only one who ever lived without injury after shit talking Dion Agriche. The first time it happened, they waited with baited breath for the doctor to fall to the ground, dead. 

The second time it happened they thought it was fluke. 

Everything after that showed that he had a privilege that no-one else ever will have. It’s curious how he’s the only one. 

One time, a soldier, a stupid one, who overheard Dion’s men talk about it did try to snitch on them to Lant, hoping to bring down Dion’s reputation. Safe to say his death wasn’t quick and painless. After that, they all realized that the only reason Dion kept them around was because they knew when and how to keep their mouths shut.

Still, it was entertaining for a man below Dion in status to lose his temper with the crimson eyed noble. 

Even if they can’t hear every word. 

“Take off the cloak - oh. Right. The Agriche crest.” The sudden memory of what’s engraved into that uniform hits Ash hard. How stupid of him to barely remember.

“You there! Come over for a second.” Not waiting for Dion’s response, Ash calls over one of the soldiers. He walks over in confusion, slightly irked that a doctor dared to order him around. But due to his leader being there, he keeps his mouth shut.

“Y-yes?” The man looks at both of them with uncertainty in his eyes. Worried, he keeps himself from turning around to avoid your husband’s eyes. 

“Can you lend him your cloak? Just for a bit.” 

Dion glares daggers at Ash.

- - -

“We-welcome! How may I help you to-today?” Open twenty-four-seven, Ash watches as Dion had knocked on the door of the store, deciding to stay in his stained clothes and dirty boots while staying outside, not staining the store’s floor. How benevolent of him.

The owner, who was originally confused and slightly annoyed, quickly changed tune once he saw the two men. Since he had met Dion before, he knew who he was. Which meant his automatic fear and willingness to work with him and not send him off only made sense.

“The necklace,” Dion starts while recalling how it looks, “the simple gold one with a small (e/c) jewel in the middle - how much?” He knows it’s genuine after the first time he examined it. What he forgot was the price.

This isn’t like him. None of this is. But the second you entered his life, he’s been… different. 

The owner blinks before answering. “Oh, that one? It’s 1240 - but for you, I’ll only charge half.” Business is still business to this man, clearly. Still, seeing how it’s an Agriche who’s his customer, he doesn’t want to test his luck too much.

It’s also amazing how he memorized the price of each and every one of his goods. 

“Alright.” Dion doesn’t try to negotiate to lower the price further. Ash watches in amazement as the exchange comes to an end as the gift is placed in a small elegant blue box that’s carefully placed into his pants pocket. 

- - -

Ash left the party before reaching the Agriche estate.

Everyone else goes their own ways once everything is reported to Lant, the head of the family scowling at the news. Perhaps too tired to care much, considering the time, he dismisses everyone without incident. Everyone but Dion, that is.

“The girl didn’t leave your room today. Were you too rough before departing?” His father takes a puff from his cigar as he questions his son on a matter that frankly, doesn’t concern him. His ugly smirk only makes the context worse.

“... she’s still getting used to ‘it’.” A simple lie that has his father chuckling. It’s nails on a chalkboard, making his ears bleed. 

“Interesting. I never thought you would be that type.” One more puff after a suggestive line. “Well, it’s late - you should get some rest. Or don’t, depending on your mood. It’s not like she can deny you.” 

His hands form fists before they relax. Getting mad here wouldn’t help. Even though every fiber of his being is enraged that Lant is treating you like a sex toy - then again, in his eyes, you probably are. A nice little breeding tool given to him, his son.

He ignores the urge to give in and punch him. 

He wonders how long he’s had these violent feelings towards him.

“Yes, father.” And with that, he leaves. 

The walk to your bedroom feels longer than what it is. Too long. Even so, he doesn’t rush, knowing that you prefer it when he’s gone. A part of him does feel guilty about it, really. At times, he does consider separating himself from you physically - as long as you’re married, as long as you don’t look at anyone else, as long as you belong to him, it should have been fine.

And, truthfully, it was, at first. He was content with the knowledge that you were his wife and he was your husband. Looking from afar would sate his needs, small dinners here and there would have been better than fine. Just hearing your voice would improve his mood, and sharing a bed with you was nicer than nice. 

That day when you were sitting on the floor and fell backwards, head resting on his legs, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. 

Although, looking back on it now, you probably took it differently.

The night where you allowed him to touch you, his fingers on the bare skin of your back, how loose you were with him, his resolve started to crumble. He shouldn’t have done that. He shouldn’t have acted in a suggestive way, either the position sending his mind places that you clearly didn’t appreciate nor agreed with. He should have gotten up the moment he was done with untying the strings and not imply he wanted to make you cum with both his words and actions.

His behavior that night only served to drive you away further. 

You both had your first time together, which was amazing - but he does regret how it went. He should have been softer, kissed you, whispered praises in your ear as he slowly, inch by inch, entered you, said you were beautiful because you were, because you are. 

But, shamefully, he was caught up in his head. Too eager to take you, to become one, his actions only worsen your impression of him. He should have been better. Instead of trying to hold himself back which only made him look disinterested, made him look selfish with sexual pleasure, he should have given in a little bit, at least with making you cum and sweet words he should have said instead of calling you cute only when you started to cry.

Maybe then, you would be more welcoming to fleeting touches and even accept a kiss to the forehead or at the very least, hold his hand. But now you only see him as a perverted creep, and no matter how hard he tries, everything only backfires on him.

He has no-one to blame but himself. 

He pauses once he reaches the bedroom doors. It’s only now does he realize he didn’t wash up - still dirty and covered in specks of blood. Dirt in his hair, he wonders if he stinks or just smells like the outside. Or maybe that would smell bad to you too.

His eyes glaze overs at the thought of you shooing him away - can’t he just spend a few minutes with you? Maybe he should just… lock you up. That way, you wouldn’t be able to avoid him. You wouldn’t be able to give your attention to anyone else, if he just hid and locked you away all for himself.

A pause before he sighs through his nose. Not a good idea despite how tempting it is.

His thoughts are interrupted when his hand starts to turn the door knob without his knowing. He caves.

He’ll just take a peek. To see if you’re asleep or not. He’ll leave to wash up as soon as he sees you before going in.

Only he caves in once he sees you on the terrace, in nothing but your sleep attire. A frown pulls at his lips - it’s slightly windy - he knows this is only an excuse to get closer to you, but an obsessed man can only hold back for so long. In the beginning, he was satisfied with just being married to you. But your personality, your real one that shined through in the past, was addicting. Your skin was so warm and hair soft, and the way you  had clung to him during your first night would have eventually caught up with him, wanting to hold you in his arms again.

It didn’t have to be in a sexual manner. Your genuine sweetness was never meant for him and he knows this. But, at times, it does hurt a bit that you just don’t remember past events, no matter how small.

Quietly, by reflex, he enters the room and opens the closet to pull out a coat. The first one he sees is a gift from his mother.

Despite his distaste of it, he pulls it out regardless and walks to you. You smell nice, he thinks as he gets close enough to place the coat over your shoulders. He sees the way you tense but he still can’t stop himself from saying -

“You’re still awake.”

= = =

EDIT: *- it's a plant I made up. That's all.

tag list: @tiny-mimi @umi-adxhira @pix-stuff @queenofspades403

@manitscold @s-ajia @disappointment-san @rentaldarling @darkumbreon92 @puggyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

[sunnysidesevenup]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS MENACE TO SOCIETYYYYY. TILLY I LOVE YOU

he’s 25 but here’s a foxglove fic about his 23rd birthday where I drop some random lore lmao

tag list (lemme know if you wanna be added!!): @kirexa @gimmeurmoneyagh @lallopsyou

fic under the cut! :D

“When’s your birthday, anyway?” Fellow asks. He’s not particularly interested, but he’s known Tilly for long enough that it likely should have come up by this point.

The two of them are sitting on the floor of Fellow and Gidel’s small apartment (honestly better suiting the term single room than apartment, the damn landlord a full on scammer if Fellow does say so himself). They’ve each got a coat in their hands, sewing supplies spread across the floor as they carefully repair holes in the fabric. It had finally gotten cold enough that they could no longer simply layer clothing, and thus the yearly time to sew up clothes is upon them. Tilly, since he’s there often enough, is obviously required to help—while Gidel gets to happily draw in the corner.

Said man hums to himself, swaying back and forth a bit while he sews, tongue stuck out in concentration. “Dunno.” Tilly finally says.

“How do you not know?” Fellow scoffs.

“Well, I don’t have parents or anything like that! So how would I know?” Tilly glances up from his work, shaking his head at Fellow as if he’s disappointed. “Silly.” He scolds.

The beastman glares at him, “You told me you were 22!” He argues, affronted.

Tilly grins at him, “Hmm, yeah. It just felt right. Maybe I’m older than you, though?” His grin turns a little devious, and he tilts his head. “You’d show me more respect if I was older, right~?”

Fellow tosses one of the coats at him, hitting him in the face with it.

In typical Tilly fashion, he instantly collapses backwards, whining about being injured. Gidel, the traitor, giggles at him, while Fellow only snatches up the coat the other was repairing.

He observes the stitching, and scoffs immediately. “This is terrible.” He says, already removing the clumsy attempts.

Tilly finally pauses his dramatic whining, pulling the coat off his face but remaining laid on the ground—although he rolls sideways to better look at the man. “I’ve never sewn anything before, I was simply guessing.”

Fellow rolls his eyes, “You’re really useless on your own, you know that? How have ya’ even survived this long?”

“I’m very lucky.” Tilly says seriously.

“No, you’re not.” He shoots back. “Get up, I’m going to teach you how to do this. You’ve got to know some life skills! Ya’ can’t just live in your little fantasy world where everything goes right for you forever, you know.”

The purple haired man sits up, toxic green eyes staring widely at him. “But my fantasy world is so nice!” He coos, leaning closer to observe what Fellow is doing. Then, in a considering voice, he adds: “Although if it was a real dream world, you’d probably be wearing a maid dre—“

Fellow smacks him in the face with the coat again.

While Tilly whines from where he’s laid out on the floor once more, the beastman stares down at him with absolutely zero sympathy. “There’s no way you’re older than me when you act like that.” He states, voice dripping with condescension and annoyance.

“You’re so rude to me.”

“You deserve it, you absolute buffoon.”

Tilly sits up again, shaking his head. “How people act has nothing to do with their age, ya’ know! I could very easily be 4 years older than you and you’d never know.” He taps his chin in contemplation, a smirk crossing his face. “In fact, I think that’s what I’ll go with from now on! Please show me the respect a senior deserves.” He puts his hands on his hips, a proud look on his face as if Fellow would respond in any other way than bafflement.

“You can’t just change your age!”

“Why not? It’s not like I know when I was born in the first place.”

Fellow sputters, “Wh— No! No, I am NOT having you claim to be OLDER than me!”

“Aww,” Tilly puts a hand over his heart, his eyes widening in false sympathy. “The lovely younger man under my care seems to be struggling, how shall I help him?”

This time, Fellow forgoes the coat in favor of simply tackling Tilly to the floor. Gidel, of course, ignores them rolling around and wrestling, far too used to this behavior from the two of them.

Finally, he manages to pin Tilly down, and he contemplates using the coats to just suffocate him and end his misery already. The other man, meanwhile, just pouts at him. “This isn’t fair at all, you’re much taller than me.” He says.

“And older.” Fellow declares firmly, glaring at him. “Say it, I’m the older one.”

“Only children fight over who’s the oldest.” Tilly says, like he wasn’t just participating in exactly that.

Fellow just squeezes his pinned wrists in response, and finally the man sighs, giving in. “Alright, I’m 22.”

The beastman grins victoriously. “Good.” He says, finally moving to get off him. He suddenly stops, however, as a thought occurs to him. “Huh, wait. How do ya’ decide when you age if you don’t know your birthday?”

Tilly laughs. “Well, whenever it feels right, of course!”

“That’s a terrible way to do things.” He shoots back immediately.

“You wound me deeply, ya’ know?” The human sighs. “And from such an Honest Fellow, too! Surely you must be correct, of course.”

Once again, Fellow is reminded that he HATES Tilly saying his name. There’s just something so infuriating about it.

“Just pick a date for your birthday, and be done with it.” He growls instead, choosing not to acknowledge the goading. Nothing good ever comes from acknowledging Tilly’s taunts, he’d learned long ago.

“Hmm, maybe.” He says, but Fellow can tell from his uninterested tone that Tilly likely won’t follow his suggestion at all. It’s typical of him to ignore perfectly reasonable advice, no matter how annoying and illogical this course of action may be.

A fantasy world he lives in, truly.

Tilly’s words a few minutes ago pop into his head again, and Fellow hurriedly gets back to his sewing. Why he insists on taunting him like that specifically, he doesn’t get. Not that he gets much about the guy in the first place.

Tilly sighs, also going back to the sewing. However, he simply stares at his work for a bit, and then glances back over to Fellow. “You’re right, I’m bad at this.” He admits dejectedly, but then nigh instantly perks up. “I’ll just get you a new coat, problem solved!”

Fellow points his needle at him. “Life skills, remember? Try living in the real world, ya’ sound like some pampered rich kid.”

The man gasps, “Take that back.”

“Get to sewing, then.” He smirks at him, pointing to the stitching. “C’mon, it’s not that difficult. Even Gidel can do this.”

“Well, Gidel is much better than me at a lot of things.” Tilly states, looking over to the corner where said boy has been ignoring them. “Aren’t you?”

Gidel nods.

“At least we agree on one thing, then. Gidel is much better than you in every way.”

“Aww, you say that like you love him more than me…”

Fellow gives him a disgusted look. “I don’t love you at all, in fact.”

Tilly doesn’t seem particularly troubled by his words, not that he expected him to be.

Still, his eyes feel a bit piercing as they observe Fellow. The toxic green color had always made his gaze just a little too intense, after all. It’s almost like he’s calling him out for something, although Fellow has no idea what it could possibly be. It’s not like he was lying.

Tilly finally looks away, wandering instead over to Gidel to see what he’s drawing. Fellow debates scolding him, since he was JUST telling him to learn how to sew, but he lets it happen. They’ve got plenty of time, and he’ll just make the man be the one to go without a coat for a while as punishment.

(Whether or not this ends with Tilly roping him into sharing his own is inconsequential. He’ll make sure not to give in this time, no matter how annoying he gets or how much he begs.)

The bigger question, however, is Tilly’s birthday. Just randomly deciding when to start saying you’re a year older does sound like something the strange man would do, but just as Fellow had said, that was a truly awful system. He would never go about things like that, which is why he’s the rational one who is doing much better for himself, obviously.

So, if Tilly wouldn’t decide on a date, Fellow would. A very simple solution! He’d even get him a gift so he couldn’t protest. A full proof plan, surely—and then Tilly would be required to get Fellow something for his own birthday in compensation. A win-win, as one would say. Quite smart.

(He ignores the little voice in his head that asks why he’d even care about this in the first place. No need to think about it too hard.)

-

“There you are.”

Tilly glances over his shoulder as Fellow approaches, perched on a crate in a random alleyway. He’s got a deck of cards in his hands, and what he could possibly be doing Fellow doesn’t know. He doesn’t move from his position, simply shuffling the cards, and flashes the beastman a grin. “Pick a card!” He says, holding a splayed hand out to him.

Fellow frowns at him. “Not right now, I’ve got something for you.”

Tilly frowns right back at him, raising an eyebrow. He then reaches out a hand, his fingers sliding into Fellow’s hair. Right before the man can swat him away, he’s already pulled back, a new card in his hand. He twirls it around, and then adds it to his deck. “You’re so boring.” He says.

The beastman stares at him, wide eyed. “Don’t do that.” He tells him.

Tilly tilts his head, a sly grin on his face. “Do what?”

“You—ugh, you’re distracting me.”

“I’m distracting?” The man bats his eyelashes, and Fellow rolls his eyes.

“Here.” He says instead of acknowledging his words, and pushes a box into Tilly’s chest.

He raises an eyebrow, a confused look on his face. “What’s this? Are you proposing? Well, I suppose I can accep—

“It’s a birthday gift, you fool.” Fellow cuts him off, crossing his arms.

“….It’s my birthday?” Tilly asks.

He nods back at him, confirming. “Today’s your birthday.”

“Oh!” Tilly’s eyes light up, and he stares down at the box. “I’ve never had a proper birthday! Is it normal to propose on them?”

“It’s OBVIOUSLY not a proposal!”

The man’s lips quirk up into another smirk, an obvious indication that he’s taunting. But his attention quickly goes back to the box, a simple little thing that doesn’t even have wrapping paper or any type of decoration. He stares at it like it’s gold, and after a bit of this, Fellow begins to become uncomfortable. It’s just a cheap gift, after all.

“Go on then, open it. I don’t have all day.”

Tilly hums, acknowledging him, and sets his deck of cards aside to better look at the box. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.” He says, and it’s a strange thing to hear from a man who’s been known to beg strangers for a multitude of items.

“I’m not heartless. You looked so pathetic when we talked about your birthday, I just had to get you something.” Fellow says, waving away whatever weird idea Tilly might have in his head. His words don’t seem to convince him of anything though, as the way he opens the gift is almost reverent.

“Oh.” He says upon seeing the gift.

It’s a cheap pair of gloves, probably not the quality of the one’s the man wears even now—but Fellow has never seen him take off the pair in the first place. How a man who wears so many different styles of clothing could wear one pair of gloves with every single one of them alludes him, but it did give him the idea to buy him some more.

Much to his surprise, Tilly instantly pulls them out and then proceeds to take his current pair off.

He’s never seen him without them, and the sight is shocking for a variety of reasons. From the nonchalant way he performs the action, to the scars that are revealed as he slides the fabric off—crisscrossing along both his palms like someone ran a knife over them multiple times, forming a strange, morbid star.

He pulls the new pair on, face unreadable as he flexes his hands, and Fellow chooses not to comment on it. “So? How are they?” He asks instead.

“Hmm. Scratchier than my other pair.” Tilly says, and Fellow is instantly annoyed again, suddenly free from the spell of the strange moment.

“Tch, give them back if you don’t like them, then!” He scowls, grabbing Tilly’s hand to pull the gloves off himself. Annoying, ungrateful brat! He could at least pretend Fellow’s gift was good, he’d bought it with honestly earned money!

“Wow, hey!” The man grabs his hands right back, lacing their fingers together as a way to stop him. There’s better ways, definitely, but when has he ever done anything normally?

“Don’t do that.” Tilly says, glaring at him. “These are mine.”

“Wh—I bought them for you.” He protests, caught off guard by the odd handholding they’re now engaging in.

“Yeah, and now they’re mine.” Tilly’s green eyes soften, then, and he smiles. “Thanks.”

Fellow has seen many of Tilly’s smiles. He seems to never run out of them—a plethora of different moods and falsehoods. Mischievous grins, false masks of innocence, the flirty smile he gives men and women when he wants something from them. Somehow, he’s never seen this one from him. It feels more honest—a genuine emotion he’s never quite seen. It feels forbidden, and weirdly precious all at once.

The beastman rips his hands away, spinning on his heels so his back is to Tilly. “You better get me something good for my birthday, now.” He says seriously, and then immediately stalks away. There’s no movement behind him, so the chances of being followed are low. Good. He can only tolerate Tilly’s presence for so long, after all!

The minute he’s sure he’s out of the other’s eyesight, he releases a breath and tugs a hand roughly through his hair.

What was THAT? He thinks. Why do I feel embarrassed?

“It better be worth it when my birthday comes around.” Fellow mutters to himself, leaned against the wall of an alleyway.

He ignores the part of him that claims it was already worth it. That’s foolish—what did he get, a smile? That wasn’t useful at all.

[girlcum-cumdump]

im clover!! haii!!

basically just a stupid needy little cumdump breeding thing who is very open to dms pls and thank you

-24 y/o in USA, MST

-bi w pref for fem and nb ppl, men you are on thin fucking ice

-autistic and adhd as fuck so if i forget about you or im just fucking weird it’s not intentional i promise

-polyamorous & single hopeless romantic, i’ll get a crush if i sense you looking at my blog for 2 minutes lmao

-they/she/it afab nb sorta ???? but kinda girl??? demigirl if they’re still doing that??? whatever’s going on w me i like being called a pet, a girl, a boy, a plaything, etc. gendered words are fine for me but if i mix it up just go w it :3

-sub, bottom, little, etc please take the initiative bc I can’t, might be a switch like 1% of the time

-always accepts being called a good pet/puppy/bunny/doll/girl/boy/whore/hole/bait/etc etc

i looooooove

-breeding, not necessarily into the pregnant part

-lactation and hucow, you can make me moo for you so easily hehe

-pet play (puppy specifically, but I can also be a kitty or bunny depending on the situation :3)

-objectification (it/its as pronouns make me so 😵‍💫)

-cnc & somno & hypnosis

-praise & humiliation, you can make fun of me for being so obedient for you

-transfem supremacy/superiority!!! just a hole for girlcock

-overstimulation, edging, denial

-fauxcest and mommy dom/little stuff, kinda into age play and very happy to be your kiddo/little sis

-hentai (bc i am a degenerate and boobs and tentacles are fucking hot end of story)

-bonafide monster fucker

-kindaaaaaaaa getting into omo stuff idk don’t look at me it’s hot and I like being embarrassed 🫣

NOT INTO:

knives/weapons, feeder/feedee stuff (don’t even think about it), blood, scat, and whatever else I think about

[herecirmsims]

Ivan

So excited to share this! I originally made this posepack several months ago as a gift for the wonderful prOwOfligate , who wanted a recreation of the iconic and deeply traumatic Ivan the Terrible and His Son Ivan painting by Ilya Repin. I didn't quite achieve the look but I tried my best lmao, and added a few alternate versions because I can't not make poses into a sequence.

Anywho, I only shared it with Prow and a few friends - one of whom was the equally wonderful @electricwhims who used it in their IG story (one of my most favourite stories!!) and asked to add a whole extra magical healing sequence to it, so now there's a happy ending after all!! I loved the extra poses so much and asked if we could release the whole set as a collab and they agreed, which I am SUPER geeked about!! 🥰😍

We hope you enjoy our little angsty offering. Please do check out Prow's amazing horror-and-occult-infused stories, and ElectricWhim for their story and other storytelling poses!! There are 10 couple poses plus all-in-ones included. As always there may be clipping or floating depending on Sim clothing and body type.

P.S. If you have a bunch of my poses already, then the posepack will appear at the very end of the [Herecirm] list. I'm just mentioning this because I spent a long time squinting at Pose Player and trying to figure out where it was. 🤣

You will need: - Pose Player - Teleport Any Sim

Download (always free): SFS | Patreon

TOU: you may adjust for personal use only to avoid clipping etc., but please do not reupload/paywall/claim as your own.

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[dumplingsfordays]

fiery embers

pairing - vampire!wriothesley x reader

genre - VERY suggestive fluff.

summary - one dark night, you take refuge in a seemingly abandoned castle which, unbeknownst to you, houses a vampire.

cw!: suggestive, mentions of blood, wrio kinda uh bites you several times, reader is implied to be a little drunk

note - holy cow I am so sorry I took so long to write this, I was kinda busy with hw and a couple bdays so uh yeah 😭 I also feel like this can be applied to blade + maybe dainsleif?? sort of dark n brooding characters lmao-

And as always, thank you for reading :))

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Your feet had never felt so sore before in your life as you approached your (hopefully) saving grace. It was a giant castle in the middle of the woods, with craggy black trees surrounding it on all sides - you were in the middle of a forest, after all. Sure, it seemed creepy and probably abandoned, but what were you gonna do when you have no other choice? Sleep outside, on the bare ground? No way. At least you could see a glimmer of orange light coming from one of the ground floor windows, most likely a fireplace. Ah, you were already imagining warming your frigid fingers by the flame...

Just a little more to go. Just a little, y/n, come on.

You shivered, your breath escaping your lips in puffs of mist as you approached the tall oak front doors. They were surrounded on both sides by crimson roses, their petals darker than any roses you've ever seen before, and their thorns were much sharper and longer. You paid them little mind as you pushed on the wood with your palm.

To your surprise, a door creaked open rather easily, and you entered the dark building with caution. When you turned back around, closing the door, you sensed heat coming from an adjacent room - thank God you weren't imagining things when you saw that flickering in one of the windows.

Hurrying over through a dark corridor to the room to the right of you, you arrived at a dim, and quite dusty, library. It was much larger than the bookshop in your village - bookshelves rose all the way up to a tall ceiling, and all of them were completely filled with the multicolored leather spines of books, illuminated by the gentle flickering flame emitted from the fireplace to your right. A mahogany writing desk sat in a far corner, and if there was something on it then you couldn't see it, it was too dark. Near the fireplace stood a loveseat furnished of the same exquisite wood, with crimson covers and golden detailing, almost daring you to sit down.

And sit down you did - with a relieved sigh, of course, and when you bent over to heat your hands by the warm fire you heard something shift in the corner.

You immediately whipped your head around. "Who's there?"

"I should be asking you that," came a baritone voice from the same corner, and following it, the figure of a tall man emerged from the shadows.

"I'm sorry, don't hurt me, please, I was just cold and I was so desperate to find shelter," you start to ramble, eyes widening in fear as you jumped up from the chair to face him. "Was I sitting in your chair? Oh, God, I'm so sorry, I'll leave now, I just needed to warm up a little-"

"There's no need to do that," the man interrupted calmly. He gestured you to sit back down, and, of course, you obeyed, albeit reluctantly. He pulled up a smaller chair some distance away from yours but still in close proximity to the fire and put his feet, donned in black slippers, up on the stone mantle.

You both sat in silence before he spoke up again.

"Are you from Carran? The village quite a ways from here?"

"Yes," you replied meekly and quietly, the overwhelming sense of guilt at breaking into someone's house (well, in this case, castle) flooding your system.

"Hmm." He paused in contemplation. "I don't know how you made it all the way here, it's freezing outside. I'm happy to provide anything you need, though, like food or clothes, in case you still feel cold."

At his mention of food, your stomach involuntarily growled - you forgot that you hadn't eaten in such a long time, you didn't have breakfast or lunch or dinner and it was probably late into the night by now.

"If it really isn't too much of a hassle or anything, I know that I just kind-of barged into your house and everything, but could I please have something to eat? I haven't done so in a while and I'll be grateful for anything."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smile and stand up.

"Come along," he beckoned, "I haven't had dinner yet, so this is really the perfect opportunity to eat."

You followed him uncertainly to the kitchen, a large, open space with dark wooden shelves and a stove in the corner. There was an island, whose countertop was a big slab of (you guessed it) wood. The man, walking over to the stove, lit a match and started to heat up a pot, which, once it started to emit a pleasant, cozy smell, you realized to be full of chicken noodle soup.

When you sat to have dinner, you finished your meal way quicker than he did - such was your hunger - so you, as politely as possible, asked for seconds, which he gladly gave to you. Finally, after a tidbit of conversation, he brought up the topic of names.

"I should introduce myself," he started. "I'm Wriothesley. Well, Duke Wriothesley, officially. And you are...?"

"y/n. It's very nice to meet you, Your Grace."

He let out a short, booming laugh. "No need for formalities. You barged into my home, so I think it follows that we're past pleasantries by now."

Your cheeks reddened in embarrassment as you looked down at your second serving of soup, the broth glimmering in the gentle flickering of the candles around the room. You looked up momentarily, though - Wriothesley wasn't eating. But he said that he hadn't had dinner yet, and he implied that he was hungry...

"This sounds a little rude but..." you trailed off, trying to find words that sound a little more pleasant than 'you said you were hungry and you're not eating, so what's up with that'.

"Yes?" He glanced towards you and you swallowed.

"Why aren't you eating?"

The dark-haired man hummed a short note before answering. "I'll eat later. My appetite... lessened."

For a split second you caught a faint sparkle in his eyes when he said 'appetite', and that freaked you out, before you concluded that mealtimes were his own choice and you shouldn't really judge a person based on that. Shrugging it off, you continued eating.

As you finished up your second plate, Wriothesley, like a gentleman, scooped it up and placed it into the sink before asking if you cared for some wine. You, of course, accepted - what duke wouldn't have exquisite wines in his cellar?

You went back to the library to drink. The fire was warm, and with the alcohol in your system, it felt like you were wrapped up in a nice, cozy blanket while you sat by Wriothesley on the couch in relative silence, occasionally having tidbits of conversation with the man and taking a sip of wine every time another pause ensued. Eventually, you couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol making you feel this warm or just the fire - either way, you felt your previously nervous muscles relax, and instinctively, you shifted closer to him. Which was a mistake, as when your hand briefly touched his, you realized just how icy it was.

"Um, Wrio," you started, using a nickname that you assigned to him a couple conversations ago, "why are you so cold?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him turn his head to meet your gaze questioningly. "Am I really?"

"Yeah, you're freezing."

"Oh, I thought you meant unfriendly," he chuckled, "I just happen to be colder than your average human."

"Human?" you smile. "You sound like a werewolf or a vampire or something."

"And what if I was?"

"Well... I probably wouldn't care." Yeah, the alcohol was definitely in your system now.

At your answer, Wriothesley raised a curious brow. "Don't you think they're vile? Scary? Threatening?"

"If you were a vampire, you haven't bitten me yet," you reply matter-of-factly, "so I don't think that you're terribly dangerous."

In a flash, he was on you - trapping you between himself and the couch, he leaned forward, almost forcing eye contact. You were helpless to do anything but lock your eyes onto his ice-blue ones.

"And if I bit you right now, would I still be dangerous?"

"Depends on if you chicken out or not."

Wrong choice, y/n!

"Well then." He dove to the crux of your shoulder, letting his surprisingly warm breath tickle your neck before grazing his teeth across the delicate skin. "Let me know if it gets too much, hmm?"

Resolving yourself to your fate was really the only thing you could do right now. You stared at the dark ceiling as you felt his rough hand caress your hair, tilting your head to the side for easier access, and finally biting down.

It stung at first, like two needles being injected within close proximity of each other, before the pain melted into excruciating pleasure after a couple of seconds. Wriothesley removed his fangs, favoring to lick the flowing spring of blood little by little.

"God, you taste sweet," he groaned, running his tongue along your neck. You writhed in his hold, clawing at his back, pressing him to your form, begging to bite you again and again and again-

He retracted his mouth from your neck, his absence making you whine pitifully as you tried to bring his head down, back to your shoulder.

"Look, I can barely look at you without needing to bite, I just feel... a little wrong if you don't want me to."

His steely-blue eyes locked onto yours, desperation and desire clearly evident in their depths. Please let me bite, sink my teeth into your soft skin. Fucking please, please, I need to or I'm gonna die.

"Yes, just do it, 'm begging you," you cry, letting out a relieved moan when he scraped his fangs across your skin where he bit you previously. And then he bit again, this time lower, trailing down to your shoulder. His hands started to roam, one finding purchase in your hair and the other holding his upper body up so that he didn't crush you beneath his chest.

Never in your life did you think that a vampire sucking your blood was going to feel so intoxicating. You couldn't help but gasp as he ghosted his cold lips across your fiery skin, indulging in real human blood (sheep and cow blood were getting very bland, almost seeming to him as dog food would to a person) that, to his added excitement, came from such a beautiful body. He pulled out every single noise that you could make out from your throat, sounds that compelled him to kiss and nip and lick your tender skin with urgent attentiveness.

Soon you began to feel lightheaded - a state which you couldn't tell if it came from the wine or the loss of blood - but you let Wriothesley know anyway by tapping him on the shoulder.

"Mmh, you taste so good, sweetheart," he praised, "what is it you need?"

"I'm feeling kind-of lightheaded n tired," you whispered in reply. His eyes widened for a split second, but returned to normal as he pulled himself off of you, making sure to press a finger to where he bit you to stop the bleeding.

"I'll get a bandaid, but thank you for letting me, thank you," Wriothesley sighed as he licked his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He stood up from the couch, grabbed a blanket from a nearby shelf, and draped the heavy material over you, sort-of tucking you in before leaving the library to fetch a bandaid.

Now alone, you turned over to your side to look at the flames. They were dying now, embers flickering a deep orange as they cast light onto the surrounding bookshelves and you, and the heat emanating from them was pleasantly warm. Folding your knees up to your chest, you closed your heavy eyes and at last succumbed to sleep.

[metis-iphigenia]

DAMIAN WAYNE SCHOOL HEADCANONS because school opened like 2-3 weeks ago and i need to cope

•since he is 15 years old, he is in 10th grade(not letting dc pull a tim drake and make him the same age forever)

•he used to love chemistry in the 9th grade because the first subject was alchemy if i remember correctly(dc can pry the "al ghuls are alchemists" hc(canon) from my cold dead hands)

but he lost interest in chemistry quickly after the subject passed.

•his all time favourite classes are math and art. im just sure damian's type of person that doesnt separate math and art from eachother

•why art is his favourite is a given but his favourite is math because math is a class based on problem solving(and also because he can do math easily)

but yeah ik his classmates are very very annoyed whenever he says "math is easy"

•I imagine him arguing with his english teacher the most for some reason. there is no reason other than damian is a very educated kid about the english literature(literature in general) so either he doesnt care or he correct his teacher on literally everything.

•i feel like he would either do a very detail research about the book he read and write a very long essay, or make a very short one and not enough detailed. no in between(because he misunderstood his teachers when they said to "keep it short")

•he begged his father to let him take an exam that lets him skil grades based on his level but his father refused so now he takes advanced math etc.

•him and duke see eachother in the morning regularly(insomniac duke, and damian who wakes up at 5.30 is real) and they sit down to talk about random shit till 7 am mostly(duke explained him the fnaf lore and damian talked about creepypastas real)

•he texts with maps both on their way to their separate schools and make plans to meetup after school to just hang out

•damian usually reads or draws in most of the classes since he already knows everything they are teaching but when asked a question, he does yap a lot(dc should bring back yapper damian ngl)

•bathroom breakdowns were very real for 9th grade damian(literally canon event for everyone with social anxiety or people who get overstimulated at school)

•still bullied just doesnt care about it and insults them/messes with them back to get back at the bullies(it stops after him also messing with them)

•he loves playing football and volleyball but not with his teammates(ik hes #3 frat boy hater i just feel it) so he only gets along with 2 of his teammates. i imagine their personality as scott and stiles from teen wolf so yeah

•has one(1) friend and two(2) teammates he doesnt hate in total(girlfailure and girlsuccess damian youre real to me🙌😼)

also he got multiple friends outside of school anyways lmao bro is anything BUT anti-social(to me hes also the type to join his schools projects etc or debate teams)

•he always calls his mother when he makes it to school and whenever hes leaving it because talia worries and he wants ease her worries(ultimate mother daughter duo)

•after school he has a yap session with nika and they talk about everything that happened to them that day(yapper4yapper gravebird my beloved)

•him and stephanie rant about school daily and talk about how much they hate it(but they both wont drop out since steph wants that med school degree and damian also wants it in the future(med student sisterisms real))

•jon may be going to a journalism school(i think??) but hes still a science nerd so their study sessions always turns into an argument about an equation or a science problem

>>> so i think thats it!! please tell me your headcanons too and help me cope with school also because i love reading about hcs(esp thosr about damian) <<<<

[mc-survivalist-steven]

(Heya! Ooc related: I’ve actually been thinking of starting a Minecraft ask blog myself. Do you have any advice on how to get your foot in the water? Are there any communities I can join to connect with people more easily?)

/ooc HAHAHA- Oh man.

To start off, do note that: This is entirely MY perspective and MY experience. I'm gonna tell you ALL I know, so the good and bad will be included. Always take advice with a grain of salt.

IT'S GONNA BE SUPER LONG, FAM, SO IF YOU AINT INTO READING ESSAYS IN SOME NICHE HOBBY just scroll all the way down 👍

Also, I've been an outlier in this community for prioritizing askblog and storywriting (than jobhunting. DO NOT BE LIKE ME.), so, please don't use me as an example and find what's the best askblogging style for you.

▦ Note: edited at 26/03/25 for better readability and extra elaboration on some parts.

1. Know the scene. (Currently? p bad lmao)

Here's the first bad news: You kind of entered at the timeframe of Highest Difficulty (tm) at the moment. I'll be real with you right now, the community is very inactive atm. I can't blame them. A lot of people I know have real life priorities to do. I myself am only here because I'm doing askblog mid commissions and jobhunting.

With that said, you CAN still open an askblog, you just have to realize that the following will occur:

↪ Lack of the interactions/asks you hope to have. ↪ Lack of notes/validation. ↪ Lack of people who would plan with you or join events. ↪ Lack of interest.

And this WILL suck. It'll get to you. It got to me, obviously. But I'm still going because, again, I am an outlier, and TECHNICALLY I also have a goal I always look forward to to keep creating, which ties to...

. .

2. Your type of Askblog. (Neutral. This depends on you.)

Note first that you CAN always experiment and change styles midway if you don't feel for it. I only find mine because I've been here since 2013, LMAO, so don't be too pressed as a beginner.

But knowing the type of person you are, how you create, and your limits in creating is important. Knowing where you also want to steer your blog is important. Your skills are also important.

So your askblog MUST depend on what kind of content you want to do.

↪ Do you want to do askblog just for fun? Then limit the amount of effort you put into it, else you burnout when you don't get the validation you want. ↪ Do you do it to practice art or writing? Then put your SOUL into it. Just know it'll be slow and slow = also slow engagement. ↪ Do you do it to tell a story only? Not really an artist? Might want to commission someone for RP emotion icons and flex off your writing chops. Do know ppl prefer images rather than text.

This will be the core basis of your motivation for the blog. If you lose sight of this, you will burnout/quit faster.

I suggest if you don't know what to do: Do it for fun first. Do it blind. Notes will start very small, mostly 0 and max at 3... but if you have no expectation, you will take it less painfully. This is important, especially when you start off. And overtime when you start to solidify what you actually wanna do with the blog, you may switch gears. People will follow it if they're interested! So just keep trying.

. .

3. How to Run an Askblog (The hard part lmfao)

Bro I cannot stress ENOUGH that I cannot read people and especially you. I cannot tell you how to run your askblog. Your vision of your OC and story is purely yours, so only you can unlock the secret of what makes your blog 'you'.

But I can tell you what USUALLY works in nabbing people's attention and want to interact with your OCs:

↪ Endermen OCs. (e.g. askendy) They are super popular. No shade to Endermen blogs, it's just what works + the endermen community is the largest rn. ↪ Great artist and replies with images. (E.g. Askzub) Sorry to all the text only askblogs / those who answer with too much text... but if you wonder why people engage less, it's probably that. ↪ Great event hosts, aka blogs who knows how to rally up the masses in a collaborative effort to spice up the community. (e.g. rnotsleeping, 'Monstrosity of the Night' event) ↪ A continuous story featuring duo/trios with engaging storyline. (e.g. hexavexen and ask-vulcan-and-toby) ↪ A gimmick that is simple but interesting. Keep it to one sentence, e.g. mine: 'Retired herobrine with one eye.' (this caught the attention of a LOT of people surprisingly.) ↪ Characters that copies canon minecraft design concept to a T, but has some kind of story people wanna see. (e.g. Enderbro.) ↪ HUMOROUS/SOFTCORE blogs. Ironic, slice of life, or funny. We need more humor tbh. (e.g. hiiamramy (i love this cute blog lmao))

Again, these may or may not work for you. This is the trend that I just frequently see. You can make whatever you want, but know that these are what I see usually climb up to the top.

MEANWHILE, here's the parts that I think DEFINITELY make blogs stand out:

↪ Utilizing your asks in a smart way. (More at #4) ↪ Askblogs with APPROACHABLE quality. Askblog is about interaction.You may want to make space for people to include their OCs (TO A DEGREE) with you and also experience your stories with you. ↪ Characters who don't annoy the viewers/other askbloggers through asks. I cannot stress enough how merely annoying people can get you so much flak. ↪ Characters who tries to interact a lot with other blogs, but isn't intrusive about it. Keep it cool when you try to interact with bigger blogs! They're all riddled with anxiety just like the rest of us.

But also, here's the deal: If you want to break the market, you got to put in some effort. Basically, the same as marketing every products and yourself. You gotta post often, draw often, and send asks (THAT WORKS for both you and your target blog) often. Sometimes you hit the jackpot, most times people ignore you.

It's par for the course. If you think something isn't working, though, always ask for criticism. Just... know that most ppl are too nice to tell you where you went wrong, so, uh... Idk? Ask someone who you trust and is willing to be upfront with you, I suppose.

. .

4. Utilizing ASKS holy shit this is so important to me

You know how in 2013 everyone spams asks so much that you have like 80 asks per blog in a week? And that 'if you spam me or send asks that is unfitting to the blog, I'll delete it uwu' mindset?

Don't.

Let me let you in into my secret. Asks are RARE these days. Baiting for them is even harder. Only your friends will send you asks, and overtime they'll run out of things to ask. If someone sent you a humor ask and you want to throw it away... well... What if I tell you not to?

Here's what you can do:

When you get an ask that feels too humorous or OOC or trolling, weigh how much you can twist it to fit YOUR narrative. For example, this is the ask I got.

Imagine getting this 1 year ago at the peak of Steven getting stuck in the Nether at a break apart state. Your first reaction would be: 'Man, this makes no sense. I should delete it.'

Nope. Weigh it first.

Can you utilize this somehow? Usually, id either answer it in character and then end it with some kind of lore reveal. (e.g. your character sees this and goes 'no! I never did this! ...or did I...' -flashback about an enderman friend they've forgotten-) so you still answer accordingly BUT also reveal something about your character!

See? This engages viewer's interest while also accommodates the ask. Everyone's happy.

Do note some asks can't work like this no matter what you do. You can bank these for future happenings.

...and if the asks are highly uncomfortable, or clearly a troll you can't utilize, or just 'hi.'? Probably just delete those, yeah.

. .

4. pt2, Baiting asks.

Baiting asks is like fishing. You gotta know when to reel and when to hold. Lemme explain.

The basic on this is: don't make your ocs TOO mysterious, but also not TOO open. TOO MUCH OR TOO LITTLE INFO ABOUT YOUR OCS WILL NOT HELP EITHER PARTY! Especially when we are in a drought like this! So yap, reveal, hide ONLY the most important secrets they have, and then reveal it slowly through asks and flashbacks.

Make askers feel that they unlock your ocs more (satisfaction on their end) and you get to infodump on them who your OCs are in a slow pace (satisfaction on your end.)

"But Doe, I can't do this if I don't even get asks."

I grab you gently.

Then drop lore posts.

I notice a lot of askbloggers refuse to post ANYTHING unless they got asks. DON'T. DO THIS. Realize that people usually don't ask because they have NOTHING to ask about. GIVE them something to ask about!

And remember! Do it in a trickle. BOTH in your standalone and answer posts.

So reveal in a consistent, slow trickle way. Give people things to ask about, while also not be too protective of your secrets and reveals.

.

.

4. pt 3, throwing asks.

I BEG OF YOU. SEND ASKS.

You send asks in return to getting asks. That's why non-anon asks is IMPORTANT. It lets people know WHO you are! SO THEY CAN SEND ASKS BACK AT YOU.

Here's my formula:

↪ Read the blog about 20 posts back and figure out something you can ask about. ↪ Ask 2 asks IN CHARACTER, PROPERLY. (format: "your ask here" > Line break > @.yourblogurlhere) This allows you to extend an olive branch for interaction (and future character relationship (friendship, enemies, rivalry, etc)) with the character, while staying in character. [E.g. "Hey, man! I noticed the sweet ride you have outside the house. Is that yours? Because I got a lot to talk about if you like cars!" - @.software-bugs-b-gon] ↪ THEN SEND 2+ MORE ASKS IN ANON with differing styles and personalities to give them MORE FOOD to continue their blog. This allows you to be slightly mean or out of character and gives YOU more ooc leeway to pry the character open further.

Now you just askbombed a blog with 4 asks! That's 4 POSTS OF CONTENT! You're happy, they're happy. YIPPEE!

AND IF YOU ARE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE WHO GOT AN ASKBOMB, please either return it or spread it to other blogs. Please.

P l e a s e. . .

5. Keeping it fresh.

Like a comic, people gotta come up with new story ideas else the blog stagnates.

If you aren't a story driven blog, letting people do M!As or just do silly 'scenes' and 'situations' work. Think of it like a slice of life or a sitcom.

Shit happens, and your OC is put into it. Let people ask things that help drive them around!

If it's story related, breaking it into arcs and story events will also help you introduce something new per arc and thus, not stagnate!

. .

6. I am tired of askblogging, and I want to take a break. How do i come back from that?

By, uhh... By just coming back?

There's not really a secret sauce to this, I feel like. Do note I am one of the more well-known askblogs out there, so I can just come back anytime and still have people waiting for me. I know that much. But still, not EVERYONE waits for me, y'know? So I just treat it like I'm starting over. No expectation, no grumpy because people aren't waiting for me. I just write for myself and to entertain, and those who like will come back and those who don't can leave and this is okay. This is normal! Don't lose hope.

It's kind of depressing to say 'just don't expect too much,' but it is actually the mindset you need. Do it for YOU, mainly.

And if you somehow deep, deep down know what you have isn't working out?

It's fine to quit! Or restart. Whatever works for you.

But also, quit with honor! Keep these in mind:

↪ DON'T JUST POOF. Believe me. You may be surprised how many people will be sad you're leaving, and what's worse is leaving things open ended will bite you in the ass. I've seen it happen. THRICE NOW actually. None of them ever ends pretty... I'd suggest just taking a hiatus before breaking the news. ↪ Take note of everyone you plan with, and contact them. Tell them you are quitting, and open up a conversation on what they can do in your absence to not break their story midway. Just- just keep open communications going? It'll suck then but it'll cover your bases. ↪ Tell your followers. Obviously LMAO. ↪ If you have the balls, ask them to anon message you on what you can do better for next askblog. People will be more upfront when they are hidden in anon, so you will get some nasty comments. If you want to pursue better writing/art/askblog and you can take the heat, try it out. If you CANNOT take the heat, DO NOT DO THIS. Especially when you quit for mental health reasons. ↪ This is just me to you, don't delete your blog, man. Just close your asks and let it up for good time's sake. I can't tell you what to do with your blog, though, but I prefer archived blogs over deleted ones.

. .

7. Last one I promise: HAVE. FUN.

Askblogging isn't a full time job. You do it because it's probably like a lite-comic for you. (me.) Or maybe it's a place to showcase your OCs. (me.) Or maybe it's because you are insane and you just want to yap about stories and humanity and touch that SOUL in everyone and understand complex emotions in niche situations that wrench your guts (also me.)

No matter the answer, have fun. The blog is for you to LARP as your character and interact with others. Find your community, find the people you belong with,

and most importantly: FIND THAT SWEET SPOT OF WHY YOU CREATE IN THE FIRST PLACE.

Just have fun. It's your blog, your rules. I am just an old man who likes to see more blogs show up, so whatever your decision is:

Make your own damn fun, okay?

.

.

ALRIGHT THATS MY YAP HERES THE TLDR:

The scene is currently dead, but make one anyway. Just don't expect much from it atm. You will start on Highest Difficulty, and I don't blame you if you can't garner interest no matter what you do.

Decide on your type of askblog. This will be your core, so if you lose motivation you still have the core to fall back onto. Why do YOU want to make an askblog? What is it for you?

Askblog isn't easy to run. You have to keep your eye on trends, other blogs' stories (you are invested in) and events. Some things work and some don't. But most importantly: Post a lot, include pictures if can, send asks and interact a lot with others!

Know how to utilize your asks. They are SCARCE. Don't just throw away asks that 'makes no sense' and try to twist it your needs. b. Additionally, learn how to bait asks by feeding your viewers bits and pieces that makes up a big secret/character of your OC. Give them something WORTH asking. c. ADDITIONALLY throw a lot of asks. Send some in character and a LOT in anon. Make some askblog happy. We need asks, after all.

Keep it fresh. Don't let the blog stagnate.

If you don't think it works out, it's ok to Quit or Restart. But please do it with other people in mind. Quit with dignity.

Finally, HAVE FUN. Do what it takes to keep the fun fresh for YOU.

. . .

For communities, I suggest LiLaira's MC discord community just to find people you can vibe with. You can then do your own smaller discord community to yap MCaskblog with, preferably those you are chill with and can rotate ideas with.

Joining here also will give you access to the Tumblr MCaskblog community, which helps with your MCaskblog feed.

(both are currently low activity though, just a heads up.)

I'm sure there are more communities out there that I don't know of. Just research who are behind them and be careful with what you choose!

I myself is in the above MC discord. If you wanna yap OCs with me, I am the kind of bastard who camps in the oc discuss channel, sooo... I guess I'll be waiting! :D