#because i have no self control and i want them

[yarnabee]

THE DOCTOR HEADCANNON — BEING HIS PLAYTHING.

harley sawyer ( the doctor ) x reader

tags/warnings: sfw (15+), light gore, torture/impact, power imbalance, degradation, abusive behaviour, posessive behaviour, kidnapping i suppose

sawyer is a HUGE jerk to everyone, including to his own little precious plaything, you. of course, such a cold, dense body made out of metal wouldn't make sense if it had a heart, wouldn't it?

besides.. your timid reactions to his sick, little experiments were what piqued his interest in the first place. what a lovely sight it is to see a flesh roaming around his prison like a helpess, pathetic rat who lost its way home. whether you writhe, yelp, whine, sob, or scream.. it's all melody to his ears.

he loves purposefully letting you escape from his lair, making you think that there's still hope to escape his hellish prison. just as you thought you were free of his grasp, he'll pin you, his beloved trophy, down—his mechanical figure hovering over you, eyes daunting as it pierces towards your cowardly ones, squeezing your neck tightly with his iron first, making sure that you knew there's no use fighting someone much stronger than you are. oh, how he loves watching the glint of hope fading from your pupils—dulling them with fear instead. he'd purposefully taunt you, mocking you with his laugh as it echoes through the hallways, "you really thought you could escape me, hmm? what an interesting thing you are, little rat."

oh, how he loves turning every single thing into a game that he knew you'd lose from the very beginning. it's amusing to see how you'd react time to time, whether you try to fight back or whimper out of fear, he feasts on it nonetheless. he'll purposefully make you play hide and seek with him, taunt you with his creaking footsteps, then having his way with you once he got his fingers wrapped tightly around you—dragging you into his lair once again as your fights and cries means nothing to him. "don't try to fight, little rat. i know you're at least smart enough to understand why."

don't get him wrong, though. just because he's able to leave cuts and bruises all over your delicate skin doesn't mean any of those filthy creatures roaming outside has the right to leave a scratch on you, not even a single one. oh, how sawyer wouldn't even think twice to rip appart the limbs off those past experiments who still roams in the area, who dares to touch you without any permission. you're his plaything, and only his. no one else.

the doctor wants you to DEPEND on him, just like how yarnaby depends on him and obeys him like a God. he wants your pathetic self to see him as YOUR lifeline, as he purposefully brings the necessities you need such as food and medicines, his mechanical joints placing them gently next to you without saying anything. afterall, he needs his little lab rat on good condition to play with, no?

at times where he's not running any 'experiments' and 'games' on you, he always kept you inside of his lab—no contact is allowed without his permission. he'd occassionally let yarnaby roam around and get used up to your presence, but he won't let you or it get too attached to each other.

he barely speaks to you, his answers are either mockery or straight degradation. you never really ask him anything about his motives too, he never liked it when you were curious. "say, little rat, i'd be amused if you hadn't learn what happens to curious little rats who gets too nosy."

a little fun fact; the doctor can easily destroy you if he wanted to. he always lets you know through his grips—how he's controlling it steadilly, letting you know that if he puts just the littlest more effort into squeezing you, you'd have your bones crushed within seconds—and he makes sure that you always remember that at all times.

"now, little rat, go on and amuse me. let's see what else i can get out off you."

[rizzanon]

Robin and the Stray

a damian wayne and batsis! reader oneshot ft. alfred | m.list

Summary: your brother asks (forced) you to help him hide another stray he took in from Alfred and Bruce

The Batcave was too quiet. That was never a good sign.

You had come here straight after patrol, expecting to give your usual report to Bruce. It was part of the routine—come back, debrief, go over anything of note, then finally get some rest. Tonight hadn’t been particularly eventful, just a few scattered crimes and a break-in attempt that was over before it even began, but Bruce liked to be updated.

Except Bruce wasn’t here.

Neither was Alfred. Or Tim. Or literally anyone else.

The only person in the entire cave was Damian.

And that was your first red flag.

Your younger brother, Damian Wayne, was standing near the Batcomputer, arms crossed, shoulders squared, his back to you. On the surface, he looked as put-together as ever—collected, self-assured, carrying that same air of superiority that he always did.

But you knew him too well.

There was something off about him.

You saw the way his fingers tapped against his arm—not absentmindedly, but rhythmically. Too slow to be impatience, too deliberate to be nothing. You saw the way he was shifting his weight just enough to make it look like he was standing naturally, except it wasn’t natural. It was controlled. Forced.

Most importantly?

He hadn’t acknowledged you yet.

Damian always acknowledged when someone entered a room. If it were Bruce or Tim, he would’ve already started spouting some dry remark about how long it took them to return. If it were you, he usually had something equally annoying to say about your form, your “tardiness”, your ability to complete patrols at an acceptable speed.

But now? He was deliberately ignoring you.

And that meant one thing.

He was hiding something.

You narrowed your eyes. Suspicious.

“Alright,” you said, setting your hands on your hips. “What did you do?”

Damian barely moved. If it weren’t for the slow exhale through his nose, you would’ve thought he hadn’t heard you. Then, finally, he turned to face you, arms still crossed. His expression was unreadable.

“I have done nothing.”

You blinked at him. “Yeah, see, that’s exactly what guilty people say.”

He scowled. “Your paranoia is unbecoming.”

“And your lying is terrible.” you said, stepping closer.

Damian scoffed again, like you were the most annoying person in existence. “I am not lying.”

“You are lying.”

“Tt. This is a waste of time.”

“It’s my time, and I’ll waste it however I want.”

Damian rolled his eyes and turned away, facing the Batcomputer again like the conversation was over. But the fact that he wanted it to be over so quickly just confirmed your suspicions.

You squinted at him, scrutinizing every little movement. The way his shoulders were still slightly tense, the way his ears twitched just a little too much at every tiny sound—he was nervous about something.

Damian lets out an exasperated sigh and finally turned to you once more, looking—if nothing else—annoyed. “I have done nothing.”

“You say that, but you’re acting weird.”

“Perhaps I am merely tired.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t get tired.”

Damian’s nose wrinkled slightly, a flicker of irritation flashing across his face. “Is there a reason you are pestering me?”

“Yeah, because you’re acting weird.”

“I am acting normal.”

“No, you’re acting like you’re hiding something.”

“That is absurd—”

And then, you heard it.

A noise.

Soft. Barely there.

A tiny, high-pitched whimper.

You froze.

The sound bounced off the cavernous walls of the Batcave, subtle but unmistakable. A normal person wouldn’t have caught it. But in a space this empty, with only the two of you standing there, of course you heard it.

Your eyes snapped toward the sound.

Damian went completely still.

It lasted only a second before he forced himself to move again, rolling his shoulders back, fixing his posture, trying to act unbothered.

You weren’t buying it.

Your gaze flickered between him and the direction of the noise—somewhere behind some supply crates.

Your eyes narrowed instantly. “Damian.”

He went rigid. It lasted half a second before he forced himself to relax, rolling his shoulders back with an exaggerated huff.

You took a slow step toward him. “What was that?”

“…What was what?”

You leveled him with a look.

Damian scoffed. “Perhaps your hearing is deteriorating. I heard nothing.”

Damian exhaled sharply, crossing his arms tighter. “Perhaps your hearing is deteriorating. I heard nothing.”

You almost laughed at the blatant lie. “Damian.”

He didn’t move.

“Oh my god.” You rubbed a hand down your face, exasperated. “You suck at lying, you know that?”

“I do not lie.”

“Then tell me what that noise was.”

“…You imagined it.”

Another tiny whimper.

Your eyes darted toward the crates again.

Oh, you had him now.

“Move,” you ordered.

“No.”

“Damian.”

“I do not see why you are making a fuss over nothing.”

“Argh.” You dragged a hand down your face. “You know I’m not gonna drop this, right?”

“Tt.”

You folded your arms. “Damian.”

“I am growing weary of hearing my name.”

“Then stop making me say it.”

Damian scowled, and for a moment, you thought he’d keep up the act. But then he sighed, long and very put-upon, like you were the one being difficult, and turned on his heel.

Without another word, he stepped around the crates, crouched down, and reached into the shadows.

When he straightened, he was holding…

A kitten.

A very small kitten.

A tiny, scrappy-looking thing with light fur and big black eyes, staring up at you like it had no idea how it got here.

You stared at it. Then at Damian. Then back at the kitten.

“…Are you kidding me?”

Damian ignored you, adjusting his hold on the kitten, making sure its tiny paws were tucked close to his chest.

That was what stunned you the most—not the fact that he had smuggled a stray into the Batcave, not the fact that he had tried so hard to act like nothing was going on, but this.

The way he was holding it.

So careful. So gentle.

You had seen Damian handle swords, daggers, throwing knives, weapons of every kind, but you had never seen him hold something with this much care. Like he was afraid it might break if he wasn’t careful. Like it was fragile.

Your heart melted instantly.

“…Oh my God,” you muttered. “This is so unfair.”

Damian smirked, smug. “I knew you would understand.”

“No, I don’t understand! Damian, you cannot keep doing this—”

“They would have left her to die,” he interrupted sharply, his fingers curling slightly around the kitten, almost protective.

That shut you up fast.

Because you knew what he meant by they. Whoever had abandoned the kitten. The people who had tossed it aside, left it to fend for itself. The people who hadn’t cared.

Damian cared.

He would never admit it, but he cared.

But of course he cared. It was one of the few things he actually cared about openly. The amount of pets you already had was proof enough—Ace, Alfred (the cat, not the butler, though it was still funny every time Alfred called for the cat and it confused everyone), and worst of all, Goliath, the actual dragon-bat creature Damian had somehow acquired.

That was already a lot.

And now?

Now there was this.

You let out a slow breath. “Damian.”

“Yes?”

“You realize Alfred is going to strangle both of us, right?”

Damian’s face remained infuriatingly neutral. “I fail to see how this is my problem.”

You gawked at him. “You are the one who brought a stray into the Batcave!”

“You are the one assuming I will fail to hide it.”

“You will fail to hide it! This cave is huge, but Alfred sees everything!”

Damian scoffed. “Perhaps you are simply incompetent at hiding things.”

“Oh my god, Damian—” You gestured at the tiny kitten in his arms. “Where did you even find it?”

“…That is irrelevant.”

“It is very relevant.”

Damian huffed, adjusting his hold on the kitten as it curled into his chest. You hated how cute it was. It wasn’t fair. “Are you going to assist me or not?”

“Assist you?” You narrowed your eyes. “What exactly do you think I’m gonna do here?”

He met your gaze, steady and unwavering. “Help me hide it.”

You opened your mouth. Then closed it.

Because what exactly could you say? You certainly couldn’t chase this kitten out. Not when it was this cute.

You exhaled, already knowing you were going to regret this. “Fine,” you muttered. “We’ll figure something out.”

Damian smirked, just a little. It was an obnoxious little smirk, one that screamed I win, and you hated it.

“I knew you would see reason.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You groaned, reaching out to scratch the kitten’s head. It blinked up at you, tiny and warm and absolutely helpless.

“This is going to be a disaster,” you grumbled.

Damian hummed, nonchalant. “Not if we do it right.”

You sighed.

The kitten mewled.

It really was adorable.

“…It’s cuter than Alfred.”

Damian’s smirk vanished in an instant. His expression immediately flattened. “Do not compare the two.”

You huffed. “I’m just saying. This one is smaller, it’s got those huge boba-like eyes—”

“Alfred is perfectly proportioned.”

“This one is cuter.”

“You’re a fool to compare the two.”

“I have eyes, Damian—”

“Perhaps they are defective.”

You groaned. “Seriously?”

And the kitten mewled again, nestling further into Damian’s arms.

You were so, so doomed.

Damian’s room was dark, save for the moonlight filtering in through the window. The walls were lined with shelves—books, weapons, a few trophies from missions. Everything in here was organized precisely the way he wanted it. No room for clutter, no misplaced items, no sign of disorganization.

And now?

Now there was a tiny kitten sitting on his bed.

You stood next to Damian, arms crossed, staring at the small bundle of fur that was currently curled up in the middle of his sheets. The kitten, utterly unconcerned, merely yawned, its tiny pink tongue flicking out before tucking its paws beneath itself, nestling deeper into the sheets like it owned the place.

“…Okay,” you said slowly. “So, how exactly do you plan on hiding it?”

Damian huffed, crossing his arms. “That is what we are currently determining.”

“Right. And by we, you mean me, because I know you don’t have a plan.”

“I do have a plan.”

“You don’t.”

Damian scoffed, lifting his chin. “Tt. I would not have brought her here if I did not have a plan.”

You arched a brow. “Oh really? Enlighten me then.”

There was a beat of silence.

Damian opened his mouth.

Paused.

Closed it.

And then crossed his arms tighter.

You grinned. “Exactly.”

He shot you a glare. “I was in the process of formulating one before you interrupted.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

The kitten let out a tiny noise—somewhere between a sigh and a sleepy meow. You hated how insanely cute it was. It made this entire situation so much worse.

Damian, ever the stoic one, didn’t react outwardly, but you caught the minute twitch of his fingers, like he had wanted to reach out but stopped himself.

Yeah. You knew he was already attached.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Okay. First things first. We need to make sure she doesn’t leave this room.”

Damian scoffed. “You believe I would be careless enough to allow that?”

“I dunno, Damian. I did catch you trying to act like nothing was going on when she was literally making noise.”

His eye twitched. “You are infuriating.”

“And you’re the one who dragged me into this.”

Damian rolled his eyes and turned away, crouching down near the foot of his bed. He pulled out a small folded blanket, shaking it out before placing it neatly in the corner of his room.

You lifted a brow. “You’re making her a bed?”

“Of course. She requires proper rest.”

You gave him a look. “Damian.”

He didn’t meet your eyes, instead adjusting the blanket with too much precision. “What?”

“You realize you’re already attached, right?”

Damian didn’t look up. “Do not be ridiculous.”

“You are.”

“I am merely ensuring her comfort.”

“Uh-huh.” You smirked. “Sounds like attachment to me.”

He finally looked up just to glare at you. “Shut up.”

“Can’t. It’s too much fun annoying you.”

He muttered something under his breath—probably an insult no doubt.

You grinned, stepping over to the kitten. She blinked up at you, sleepy, tiny, warm. You lifted a hand, scratching behind her ears.

“…We’re so screwed,” you muttered.

Damian scoffed. “Only if we are incompetent.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s your brilliant plan for when Alfred inevitably finds out?”

“We will ensure that does not happen.”

You deadpanned. “Oh wow, what a genius plan. Amazing.”

Damian huffed, flicking your forehead.

“Ow! What the hell?”

“Perhaps you will learn to hold your tongue.”

“You flicked my forehead! That was so unnecessary!”

“You are being dramatic.”

“I’m being realistic!”

“You are being obnoxious.”

“Damian Wayne—”

Knock knock.

You both froze.

Your heads snapped toward the door at the same time.

A pause.

Your heart jumped into your throat. You had seconds to react.

And instinct took over.

You lunged for the kitten, scooping it up in your hands and rushing toward the closet. Damian was already moving, stepping toward the door like nothing was wrong, keeping his expression schooled into its usual unreadable mask.

You flung the door open, eyes darting around. Shoes, weapons, neatly arranged training gear—nowhere soft enough.

Your hands scrambled for something. Anything.

Your fingers found a spare pillow tucked against the corner.

You gently placed the kitten on it, adjusting her tiny body so she was curled into the fabric. You barely breathed, watching her eyes flutter open—just for a second—before slowly closing again.

She didn’t move.

Good.

Very good.

You shut the closet door with slow, precise movements, then turned on your heel and strode back to Damian’s side just as the door swung open.

Alfred.

Your stomach dropped.

The butler stood at the doorway, eyes sweeping the room. His gaze landed on you, and for a fraction of a second, you saw something—surprise. His expression barely changed, but his eyes flickered, his brows shifting ever so slightly before he schooled his features again.

“I was not expecting to see you in Master Damian’s room, Miss (Name).”

Shit.

It hit you in that moment.

Damian was always the one barging into your room.

Not the other way around.

This—this—was weird.

Suspicious.

Damian, the little menace, barely hesitated. He huffed, tilting his chin up with exaggerated irritation. “Oh, please. You say that as if I would willingly allow her to linger in my space.”

Your eye twitched.

Oh. Oh, you little—

You turned to glare at him.

Damian shot you a look.

A look that very clearly said, Play along.

You gritted your teeth, but you played along.

Forcibly.

Scoffing, you crossed your arms, rolling your eyes with the most dramatic exasperation you could muster. “Excuse me?”

Alfred’s lips twitched in amusement.

Damian, ever the actor, sighed heavily, as if merely existing in your presence was a burden. “You are incredibly difficult to remove.”

You let out a scoff of mock offense. “Wow. Rude.”

“Merely a fact.”

Alfred, clearly unimpressed by the sibling bickering, simply cleared his throat. “Dinner is ready. You two should head down soon.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and left, shutting the door behind him.

Silence.

Stillness.

Neither of you moved.

You waited.

Counted the seconds.

Listened.

The moment you were sure Alfred was gone, you exhaled hard.

You turned to Damian, who looked just as tense as you had felt. His shoulders, usually squared and stiff with perfect posture, were slightly looser now.

You huffed. “That was way too close.”

Damian smirked, though there was the barest flicker of relief in his eyes. “You are dramatic.”

“You were nervous.”

“I was not.”

“You were.”

“Prove it.”

You squinted at him. “Your shoulders were stiff.”

“My shoulders are always stiff.” He grumbles, folding his arms.

“Yeah, but you were extra stiff.”

“Tt.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “We are so screwed.”

“Not if we are careful.”

“You mean if I’m careful.”

Damian just smirked at you. “Precisely.”

You glared.

He then turned on his heel and strode toward the door, pausing only to glance at you over his shoulder.

“Come,” he said simply. “Dinner awaits.”

You sighed, sending one last look toward the closet.

The kitten was still inside.

Still quiet.

Still hidden.

For now.

You exhaled and followed Damian out, already knowing that this was only the beginning of the chaos to come.

A whole week.

A whole week, and somehow—somehow—you and Damian had managed to keep this kitten hidden from everyone in the manor.

It honestly shouldn’t have been possible. Not in a house with Bruce Wayne.

Your father had built a career out of noticing things no one else did. The World’s Greatest Detective, capable of finding patterns in chaos, deducing secrets from the tiniest details, catching liars with a single glance. There was no way this should have worked.

And yet, you had made it seven days.

A good part of that was due to the kitten itself. She was surprisingly low-maintenance for something so small and needy, sleeping most of the day while you and Damian were out, only getting active when one of you was around. Between the two of you, you made sure there was always someone in the manor at all times, switching shifts like it was some sort of top-secret mission.

And if you thought too hard about that—how ridiculous it was, how much effort you were putting into this—you might start laughing. So you didn’t.

Still, it wasn’t perfect.

You had almost been caught more times than you cared to count.

The closest call?

It had been late, far past patrol, and you’d been in Damian’s room feeding the kitten. You weren’t expecting anyone to come looking for you—not when your father had been knee-deep in a case, locked in his own world, barely acknowledging anyone outside of mission briefings.

But then, suddenly, you heard his voice.

Calling your name.

You had exchanged one panicked look with Damian before immediately bolting into action. You shoved the kitten into her makeshift hiding spot—inside Damian’s closet, curled comfortably inside a box lined with one of his old hoodies, wiped away the tiny bits of fur clinging to your shirt, and sat on the bed, trying to act as casual as possible.

Damian, still crouched beside the closet, had no time to react beyond freezing completely in place.

Then Bruce opened the door.

He took one glance at you—legs crossed, arms folded—and then looked at Damian, who was stiff as a statue on the floor, looking vaguely like he’d been caught committing a crime.

Bruce frowned. “…What are you two doing?”

You didn’t even blink. “Talking.”

“On the floor?”

Damian, without missing a beat, answered, “Yes.”

It had been a long night. Bruce had been running on fumes. He had stared at both of you for a long, agonizing moment before letting out a quiet exhale.

“Get some sleep,” he said simply, then left.

And just like that, you two somehow got away. Again.

It had taken all of your self-control not to start laughing hysterically the second the door clicked shut. Damian had just scowled, muttering something about how absurd the situation was, but the way his shoulders had relaxed said everything.

Bruce had no idea.

You had won.

But Bruce wasn’t the only problem.

Alfred was just as dangerous—if not worse.

If your father’s detective skills were legendary, Alfred’s were terrifying. He had this way of knowing things. Sometimes before you even did them. He was like some omniscient force that no one could escape.

And yet, for some reason, he hadn’t found out about this.

…At least, that’s what you thought.

Because there had been moments. Little ones.

Like the time you caught Alfred looking at the extra cat fur on Damian’s hoodie. He didn’t say anything—just ran a lint roller over it before handing it back without a word—but you knew. He had noted that. Especially when he hadn’t seen Damian interact with Alfred—the cat, that day.

Or the time when he had asked if you’d been eating in Damian’s room, because he had noticed “traces of food” in there. You had almost choked on your own spit at that one.

Or, the worst moment, when Damian had almost slipped up.

You’d been in the kitchen late at night, grabbing a snack before heading back to Damian’s room. Alfred had been there, doing something by the stove, when Damian had come in and automatically reached for the fridge.

And you knew what he was doing.

You had watched, frozen in horror, as he pulled out the small carton of milk—one that was not for human consumption, but rather stolen from Alfred’s personal stash of pet food supplies—and nearly poured some into a tiny bowl.

For a cat.

You knew Alfred had already fed the only other cat in the household.

So when you saw Alfred turning, just slightly, as if noticing something, you had never moved faster in your life.

Before he could say anything, you had shot to your feet, grabbed the bowl, and downed the milk. In one go.

Alfred and Damian had just stared at you.

You had coughed violently, wiped your mouth, and said, “Calcium.”

Alfred hadn’t even questioned it.

But you swore you saw the tiniest glint in his eyes, like he knew.

That really unsettled you.

But now—now you were back in Damian’s room, sitting on the floor as the kitten munched on her food, still somehow undiscovered.

You sat cross-legged, propping your chin up in your hand as you eyed the kitten lazily. “I still don’t know how we pulled this off.”

Damian, who was currently sitting on his bed with one leg propped up, scoffed. “Speak for yourself. I never had any doubt.

You shot him a look. “We were almost caught, like, five times.”

“That was due to your carelessness.”

“Oh, really? Was I the one who had to cover for you when Alfred almost walked in while you were literally petting her?”

Damian huffed. “Alfred does not simply ‘walk in.’ I accounted for that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Right. That’s why you nearly dropped her when the door opened.”

“Tt.” Damian turned his attention to the kitten instead, watching as she licked her tiny paws. He said nothing, but the way his fingers twitched against his knee betrayed his irritation.

Your gaze flickered to the bowl. Actual cat food.

You frowned.

“Where did you get that?”

Damian didn’t even look up. “Alfred’s stash.”

Your eyes snapped to him. “You stole from Alfred?”

“Borrowed.”

“Oh my God.” You dragged a hand down your face. “Damian, he probably keeps track of that.”

Damian scoffed, unconcerned. “I ensured that I only took minuscule amounts each time to avoid suspicion.”

“That doesn’t mean he won’t notice.”

Damian finally looked at you, unimpressed. “You severely underestimate my ability to remain discreet.”

“That’s what you said about the milk.”

“That was your failure, not mine.”

“I saved your ass.”

“You embarrassed yourself in the process.”

“I survived in the process.”

Damian let out an exasperated sigh, looking to the kitten instead of dignifying that with a response.

You huffed. “Have you named it yet?”

A pause.

“No.”

You raised a brow. “Wow. You’re really creative.”

Damian shot you a look. “Would you prefer I call her something ridiculous?”

“I don’t know. I was expecting something dramatic, at least.”

Another scoff. “I am not you.”

“I mean, you named a literal dragon-bat thing in, like, two seconds. But a kitten is where you draw the line?”

Damian scowled. “Naming something is a responsibility. I do not take it lightly.”

“Oh my God.” You snorted. “It’s a cat, Damian.”

“Your point?”

The kitten meowed loudly, stopping you both in your tracks.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Okay. Whatever.”

A beat.

“…Should we tell the others?”

Damian barely blinked. “Who?”

You rolled your eyes. “Y’know, Tim, Cass, Dick, Jason—”

“No.”

You blinked. That was immediate. “Why not?”

“Drake would let it slip the second he became sleep-deprived, Cassandra would tell Father immediately, Grayson lives in Bludhaven, and Todd—” Damian’s expression darkened. “Todd is irrelevant.”

You blinked. “Rude.”

“He would use this against us.”

Okay, fair.

You exhaled, letting yourself fall back onto the bed. “…So, either way, I was going to be the one you’d ask for help, wasn’t I?”

Damian huffed. “No. If I had it my way, you wouldn’t even be here.”

You gasped dramatically. “The audacity! If you had hidden this cutie from me, I wouldn’t have forgiven you.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “How tragic.” But there was the faintest pink on his cheeks.

Because of course.

Of course it was you.

Who else would he trust with something this important?

You smirked, propping yourself up on your elbows, watching as Damian busied himself with the kitten again. His fingers idly scratched behind her ears, his scowl softening just the tiniest bit when she let out a contented purr.

“Oh, come on,” you teased. “I know for a fact you would’ve asked me for help first, even if I didn’t catch you.”

Damian scoffed. “Your arrogance is astounding.”

“Am I wrong?”

“You are always wrong.”

“So that’s a yes?”

Damian exhaled sharply through his nose, turning his attention fully on the kitten as if he could physically ignore your presence. You watched him for a moment, scrutinizing the way his shoulders tensed, the way his fingers stilled ever so slightly before he resumed petting the kitten, and then—there it was.

A flicker of hesitation.

And then, begrudgingly, he muttered, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You blinked.

Not the sarcastic retort you had been expecting. Not a denial, not an insult. Just that.

Simple. Direct. Honest.

Your heart did something strange in your chest, something warm and stupid, and you had to fight the grin threatening to take over your face.

“…Wow,” you said, blinking exaggeratedly. “Damian Wayne, admitting he trusts me. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Damian shot you a glare. “I take it back.”

Too late. You were already ruffling his hair, grinning like an idiot.

“Hey—” He immediately tried to swat your hand away, scowling.

You just laughed, dodging his weak attempt to shove you away. “Aw, you do care.”

“I will kill you.”

“Sure, sure. Say whatever makes you feel better.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“I tolerate you at best.”

You grinned, flopping back down onto the bed. “That’s basically love in your words.”

Damian rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might actually get stuck, but the corner of his mouth twitched. A small, reluctant thing, barely there, but noticeable if you were paying close enough attention.

Which, of course, you were.

Unfortunately, neither of you noticed the door, which had been slightly ajar for the entirety of that conversation.

And you definitely didn’t notice the way it closed softly.

Because Alfred had been standing there the whole time.

He had known from day one.

Of course he had.

It had taken one look at Damian’s hoodie, one glance at the way you had both started lingering around the manor more than usual, one single second of analysis, and he had known.

But he had let it be.

Because—perhaps foolishly—he had enjoyed watching the two of you fumble your way through this ridiculous charade, watching the way you and Damian bonded over it.

Now, though, he was simply waiting.

Because he knew—without a doubt—that the two of you would out yourselves in approximately three days.

And that’s when he would finally step in, cross his arms, give you both a very long lecture about the dangers of bringing strays into the household without prior approval.

For now, though…

He merely sighed, shaking his head as he walked away.

Time to inform Master Bruce that the household had yet another animal resident.

lol this was so overdue but here it is!! hope you guys enjoyed this 🫶

taglist (open): @k1arar3 @kingshitonly @rainnyydaysworld @ceridwyn3 @darkfaethedestroyer @blueiones @strwberryglass @lithiumval @thephantomdanny @eli-mayhaveatencats @rockyeatrock @dreaming-of-the-reality | ask to be added <3

[literatureloverx]

Hii! I'm new here, but I'll just get to the point. I want to know your opinion about something

I've heard a lot of people saying that Dazai would cheat on his partner. I know it's not true, but I just wanted to know your opinion about it

Have a nice day!

I do like people who just “get to the point”. ♥️ First of all, welcome to the family! Second, I don’t think so at all.

Dazai is not a bad person. The only scenario where I could see him being unfaithful is if he were afraid of emotional intimacy (which I think he would be) and tried to push his darling away. Though, even then, I am not sure he would actually go through with it.

Given his self-sabotaging and self-destructive tendencies, it is possible, but whether he would genuinely cheat or merely create the illusion of it is open to interpretation. His desire to distance himself from his darling would likely stem from his idealised view of them, believing he doesn’t deserve them because he sees himself as tainted.

However, in my opinion, Dazai genuinely wants to improve because he is exhausted by the constant emptiness he feels. Let’s say he has a darling who fills that void inside him—would he truly want to let them go? I believe he would only push them away under specific conditions, such as self-sacrifice, driven by the need to protect them from the inevitable consequences of being involved with him—both because of his dangerous life and his internal struggles.

That being said, considering how Dazai thrives on manipulation and control as well, even if he were to push someone away, it might not be purely self-sacrificial. It could also be a subtle test, a way to see how much they are willing to fight for him. (I somehow love how hypocritical he can be. The poor man is so stuck—please, someone shake him and tell him, “We can do this together.” 🥺 He is so lonely.)

Though, I think this is an extreme scenario, one where he is 100% invested in someone, particularly romantically.

I hope this answers your question. Have a nice day as well! ♥️

[naridabarbi]

I had a dream about like azzi and juju being together, could you pls make a one shot about them where its like azzi is jealous by some girl flirting with juju?

"JEALOUSY LOOKS GOOD ON YOU"

pairing - juju watkins x azzi fudd

word count - 667

c/w- language, suggestive, angst if you squint.

a/n - being that this ship is rare and unusual, i have no smut for you guys. i REFUSEE to get backlashed. anywho, i told you guys that i wont ever turn down an request so I have to keep my word.

Azzi was pissed.

Not the playful kind of mad where Juju could flash that charming grin and make it all go away. No, this was real, arms-crossed, jaw-clenched, fully committed to being mad pissed.

And it was all because of some overly friendly interviewer who clearly had no self-control.

Azzi had been watching the game live, curled up on the couch in Juju’s hoodie, grinning like an idiot every time her girl dominated on the court. Twenty-nine points, seven assists, three steals—Juju was balling. And when she hit that final three-pointer, Azzi had damn near jumped off the couch.

But then—then—came the post-game interview.

Azzi should have turned the TV off. She should have just texted Juju her usual “Proud of you, baby. Come home to me.” and waited like a calm and rational girlfriend.

But no.

Now she was gripping the remote way too tight, glaring at the screen as some random woman stood way too close to Juju, smiling up at her like she wanted to eat her alive.

And Juju? Completely oblivious.

She was laughing, flashing that perfect smile, looking fine as hell, and making things worse.

Then it happened.

The interviewer’s hand—on Juju’s arm. A soft, lingering touch that had Azzi seeing red.

“Oh, hell no.” Azzi snatched up her phone and fired off a text.

Azzi: When are you coming home?

Juju: On my way now, Mama. Miss me?

Azzi rolled her eyes. Oh, she missed her, alright. Missed her before she had to watch another woman practically throw herself at her girlfriend on national television.

By the time Juju walked through the door an hour later, Azzi was curled up on the couch, arms crossed, her lips set in a pout.

Juju stepped inside, dropping her bag, her brows furrowing at the energy in the room. “What’s wrong, Mama?”

Azzi didn’t even look at her. “Nothing.”

Juju smirked instantly. Oh. So that’s what they were doing.

She kicked off her sneakers and made her way over, standing in front of Azzi, hands on her hips. “Uh-huh. You sure? ‘Cause you look a little…” She tilted her head. “Mad.”

Azzi still refused to look at her. “I’m fine.”

Juju chuckled, finally putting the pieces together. She glanced at the paused screen on the TV—the interview from earlier still frozen in place. And just like that, she knew.

“Ohhh,” Juju drawled, plopping down beside her, draping an arm lazily over the back of the couch. “So that’s what this is about.”

Azzi’s jaw clenched. “Don’t.”

Juju grinned, leaning in just enough to brush her lips against Azzi’s ear. “Mama, are you jealous?”

Azzi scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “No.”

Juju chuckled, slipping a hand under Azzi’s hoodie and resting her warm palm on her waist. “Lying ain’t a good look on you, baby.”

Azzi shivered but refused to give in. “Maybe I just don’t like watching my girlfriend get touched on live TV.”

Juju bit back a smile. “Baby, she wasn’t touching me like that.”

Azzi finally turned to face her, eyes sharp. “Did she have to touch you at all?”

Juju licked her lips, loving this way more than she should. She leaned in even closer, her voice low. “You’re kinda sexy when you’re mad, Mama.”

Azzi huffed, looking away. “Shut up.”

Juju laughed softly, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s jaw. “C’mon, baby. You know you’re the only one for me.” Another kiss, this time just below her ear. “Only you.”

Azzi sighed, her resolve slipping. “You’re annoying.”

Juju smirked, trailing kisses down her neck now. “And you’re cute when you’re jealous.”

Azzi tried—really tried—to keep her attitude. But then Juju’s hand slid lower, squeezing her hip just right, and her voice dropped into that dangerous tone.

“Wanna know how I can make it up to you, hm?” Juju murmured against her skin.

Azzi swallowed hard. Oh.

Maybe she’d let Juju fix it, after all.

[absolxguardian]

@egregiousderp #especially since you can find writings of early modern and medival european men writing about the pros of being friends with your wife#they have no concept of romance just friendship and carnal desire#if you actually like your wife shes your best friend#so its culture!#<-absolxguardian’s prev tags#I CAN COMMENT ON THIS ACTUALLY!#because marriage wasn’t so much about sexual desire as it was about the duty of procreation and lineage for a lot of nobler houses?#it’s more tied in with the idea of status or duty!#you see that especially well in some of the chivalry movements#wanting to have sex with someone was almost completely divorced from the idea of proper marriage#seducing a guy you like so he has to ‘do the right thing’ and make your child legitimate was a thing#we have a very different view of sex and marriage post-birth control pill is my theory at least#it’s still super odd as an ace person seeing these people who don’t even LIKE their spouses as people but are so horny for them they marry

You're exactly right. My tags were just about one aspect of this different system, not differentiating between friendship and feelings of emotional affection towards your spouse/sex partner (romance). This isn't even getting into marriage, which was a thing that could be separate from both sexual attraction and friendship/romance. The idea that the birth control pill caused a major sea change is commonly accepted historiography (as well as easier to use condoms and for a period of time before HIV emerged cures for all STDs). A lot of our contemporary sex negative ideas are out-dated good advice when sex could be very dangerous (of course these ideas have forgotten their purpose. They become self justifying with their own value judgements, instead of practical advice about pregnancy being dangerous and new people causing complications).

Another thing that has occured to me since writing those tags is the idea that some contemporary historians have, deeming very close friendships between 17th and 18th century as "romantic friendships" (and thus sexless). This is done in a very no-homoing way, but considering this a way to make their relationship not queer is asexual erasure. But on the other hand, these relationships weren't considered deviant or even all that close to sodomy in their own time periods. But if their culture can be seen as not differentiating between romance and friendship, then what?

I'd put my guess for the emergence of romance as a concept in Europe as with the movement- romanticism- it takes its name from. But I don't feel like I know enough to confidently present this as a thesis, and I haven't been able to find an actual acadmic paper saying the same thing. Potentially you could say that courtly love is the first instance of romance in Europe, but you could also classify it as being about sexual tension and unconsummated sexual relationships. They did consider what they did dancing around the line, in a time when you weren't required to like your spouse. (And this is just Europe, but I know very little about this kind of intellectual history elsewhere, since I can only read stuff that has been translated into English).

I'm currently in a philosphy of sex and love class, and after four weeks I have no more insight into what romantic love is. But most of the texts we've read have been about figuring out a definition for love in general. The only guy who put forth an idea about romance specifically, has a definition that is incompatible with polyamory. But I am writing this right before doing the readings for our upcoming week that is focused on polyamory, so maybe I'll have more to say in two hours.

[guy who is aromantic voice] sexual attraction just makes more sense than romantic attraction. like ok, you want to fuck someone. this is quantifiable. it is quite easy to grasp what "i want to fuck someone" looks like, even if you have no idea what it feels like. romantic attraction, though? this is a nebulous construct which seems to largely be "glorified friendship with sex" in the popular imagination. what even is the difference between friendship and romance? the line between friendship and sexual attraction, though both can coexist, is that when there's sexual attraction present, you want to fuck someone. the line between friendship and romantic attraction, so far as i can perceive it within a heteronormative, amatonormative framework, is that it is... friendship where you want to fuck someone. what?

[lexirosewrites]

Brief interlude to the Mafia story for another mob story, only this one Steve escaped from a cult

Nancy and Robin are ex's and Nancy is who got Robin into the Wheeler family business. They broke up on good terms and Robin came to make some good friends there.

In my head Steve and Robin meet because he moves into her apartment building and the two become neighbors. Both notice how the other acts a bit odd but don't think anything of it at first. Both omegas come to assumptions about the other, Steve thinks Robin left a very sheltered and controlling environment and Robin thinks Steve's from a rival family and waiting for the perfect opportunity to take her out.

Robin shares her fear with her friends before going radio silent for a few days, everyone is ready to jump into action to take revenge when she sends a message basically saying it's all good now and she was just being paranoid

Robin came back from a date to Steve standing in the hallway in front of her door with homemade pasta and gets startled when she clears her throat behind him. Steve rambles enough to give Robin herself a run for her money and he admits that he only recently got away from a cult he was born and raised in.

The meeting turns into a days long sleepover with Robin helping the other omega learn how to make a comfortable nest, how to properly do laundry and how to clean around the house. She sees how he has several self help books and how to's for omega house care and realizes that whoever left him there hasn't the first clue on how to care for an omega but made an effort. She picks up the faint scent of pups and an older alpha coming from his nest and asks about it.

Steve was saved by the chief of police of a small town who was retiring and moving to the city with his girlfriend and family, Hopper formally adopted Steve and stops by frequently to check up on him and Steve's adopted sister Jane often comes by with her friends to try out Steve's cooking.

Robin obviously doesn't come clean about what she does for work and Steve doesn't ask but now they both chalk up any odd behaviors to Steve being from a cult, Robin thinks anything Steve does that's weird is because he's from his time in a cult. Steve assumes anytime Robin does anything weird is just Robin being a self proclaimed weirdo and also his perception of most things being weird because he's not used to most things.

I think the story could mostly be a funny slice of life story between the two getting closer and Robin's horrible dating life, she'd come back to her appointment and complain to Steve about how bad all of her dates have been. Steve will continually ask her if she's talked to and asked out Chrissy because the other omega clearly likes Robin based off of the stories he's heard.

Eventually Robin and Chrissy get together and introduce Steve to all their other friends and Eddie is immediately smitten and makes an ass out of himself, he bends over backwards to make Steve's visit super comfortable and accommodating. Robin and the others lose their collective minds because Eddie is usually calm and composed when pursuing someone and here he is, in all of his dork glory.

Robin gives Eddie a shovel talk after Steve leaves. When Hopper meets the others he quickly clocks what they really do for work and sighs. He tells them how he's retired now and works at his girlfriend's bakery with his kids and her kids but if they do anything to hurt his boy there will be consequences.

While Eddie and Robin both have no plans on ever hurting Steve both come to the decision to act more and more outlandish around Hopper to see how worked up he can get a bigger reaction.

It's all supposed to be just a fun story that popped into my head the other day that I wanted to share!

brb gotta go cry about platonic soulmates stobin yet again🥲 i love them so much it hurts me

[yoichiin]

isagi yoichi's fluff alphabet !! (from a to k)

as stated, it's a fluff alphabet for isagi!

no notable warnings. gn!reader. fluff. second person pov.

note : first post !! i kind of repeat myself im ngl but it's okay probably. also no j because i couldn't think of anything sillying

a is for activities (what does he do in his free time with you?) :

isagi is somewhat of a simpleton. his life is eat, sleep, soccer so the things he does with you reflect that. if you feel like switching it up, you’ll have to tell him directly.

when he does have free time with you, quiet cozy days in or spontaneous brunches on the weekends are his go-tos. they’re simple, yes, but with yoichi, less is always more. he isn’t the type of person to find value in super extravagant outings and in his mind, the memories that ring loudest are the mundane things that no one else seems to remember. so even though his heart aches when you don’t recall the late night conversations when he fell in love with you for the first time, isagi doesn’t mind. the warm winter naps and simple mornings over not-very-luxurious breakfasts may melt like snowflakes in your memory but as long as you’re content in that moment, it’s all he could ask for.

b is for beauty (what does he find most beautiful in a partner? what is his favorite part, inside and out?):

the simple answer that yoichi says is someone with a nice smile and laughs a lot. the real answer is a bit more complicated. 

as someone who has observed and analyzed his whole life, he’s noticed the kind of glow joy seems to have on people. from the small perk of the shoulders to laughing so hard you feel like throwing up—this phenomena sings to isagi. the existence of real, visible, audible emotion.

when he’s on the pitch with his teammates there’s a fire in every one of their eyes—all-consuming like the sun. it’s that light that pulled him into blue lock in the first place. the joy of victory, of evolution and change. seeing all of these emotions on someone’s face is yoichi’s favorite thing about human connection and he treasures it with his life. 

(and he likes thighs too, i guess.)

c is for comfort (how does he help his s/o when they’re sad or overwhelmed?):

it’s a nice surprise that isagi’s soccer awareness translates well into relationships. he can assess your state immediately and run to your side and comfort you with verbal affirmations. his words are so real and from the depths of his soul, it’d almost be an insult to call them sweet nothings. 

yoichi’s feelings come out as easy as gentle wind upon autumn leaves, even philosophical at times. if you weren’t overwhelmed by your own emotions, you’d be racking your brain a bit trying to figure out his. it gets theoretical to the point where it flies over your head but that’s how you know it’s genuine. no matter how he layers his words, his intentions remain clear. “it is a privilege learning to understand you.”

d is for dreams (how do they picture a future with their s/o?):

before isagi got with you, he had never imagined being in a relationship. not like he didn’t want one but it just slipped his mind. his first love is soccer, through and through. he thought he never needed anything else.

still, his vision has always been simple. win the world cup, become the greatest striker in the world, and now you’re there too. when you’re with such a simpleton, he’ll always have space for you in his future and now that he’s got you, you’re never leaving.

e is for equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or passive?):

as much as i want to be self-indulgent and say that isagi would be submissive, i think he leans towards being dominant in a relationship.

perhaps before blue lock, when he was unsure of his ideals, he’d follow his partner with no question. but that’s not the person he wants to be. now that blue lock has reassured the things he’s been thinking for years, he likes being in control, leading, and making decisions. he doesn’t disrespect you or dismiss you, of course, but yoichi feels most secure when he voices his opinions freely and decides things for himself. yoichi can lose sight of you at times because of this so your relationship might have to be negotiated to be more equal but in a way where he doesn’t have to compromise his values.

f is for fight (how does he argue? how do you work through your problems?):

while isagi is good at voicing his thoughts, he’s a little too good. his thoughtful words and passionate soccer theories can quickly turn into paralyzing venom when he’s angry and it comes out in hyper-specific insults that pierce some of your deepest insecurities. fights happen infrequently but when they’re bad, they’re bad. he’s not so stubborn that he’ll drag on a fight but he says things so out of turn, it leaves you needing space.

recovering after these arguments takes a lot of time and talking and trying your hardest to understand each other. it’s hard to make sense of everything isagi is thinking because he thinks so much, but know, after all is said and done, he wants you two to come out of these fights stronger.

gentle (how gentle is he, physically or emotionally?):

as good as he is with his words, isagi doesn’t really know much about physical affection. he’s gentle the way a child takes care of a pet or baby, cautious and a bit eager. you can feel his nerves travel up your spine as he hesitantly puts a hand on the small of your back to hold you. though awkward, it just makes it even more endearing.

h is for honesty (what’s something he keeps secret? any rules for honesty?):

isagi doesn’t have any specific rules when it comes to honesty. obviously, he wants you to trust him but if there’s something you want to keep to yourself, it’s fine with him and he’ll do the same. 

i is for inspiration (a trait about him that you might look up to):

how much he thinks. isagi’s mind is an endlessly growing puzzle—a garden of ideas and theories he’s been nurturing like he’s been at it for fifty years. you watch him in awe as he sits studying a match, eyes slightly squinted and nose all scrunched up. yoichi’s constantly redefining and reorganizing his thoughts and you can’t help but giggle when you say something random and he perks up with what you’re sure is a fresh idea. his drive is a beacon not just for his rivals but for you as well.

k is for kiss (what was the first kiss like?):

i imagine your first kiss is after a match. isagi has shot the winning goal and both of you are full of excitement and adrenaline you don’t realize what you’re doing. after swimming past all of his teammates surrounding him and seeing you in the front stands, he’s so overwhelmed he pulls you in for a kiss. it’s warm, exceedingly so, and a little awkward, noses softly bumping against each other. yoichi’s hair is somewhat stringy from his sweat while his face glistens under the stadium lights as you realize what has just happened.

truth be told, he’d been stressing himself out wanting to kiss you and he revealed he’d have rather done it in a smaller, more secluded place but his red cheeks while he bashfully explains himself is too cute that you go in for another peck between his brows.

fin.

[clit-licker420]

you people have got to fucking understand that not everybody is a die hard revolutionary feminist. some women want to date and marry and have sex with men, and you still have to show up for them because theyre still women. abandoning non celibate women to whatever consequence of unprotected sex you think they deserve for not following your ideology is as bad as the evangelicals. this is how you rot in your own smug self righteousness, not liberate women.

sure, there are big, legitimate problems with the state of female birth control. but this is so eerily reminiscent of the whole ‘keep your legs shut and you wont need an abortion’ schtik that i find it very hard you believe you give half a fuck about women at all.

Hey everyone there’s a new search engine app and browser called diem created by a team of women where you can ask anything from career advice to birth control and other personal questions. You can read more on their website!

[eggsaladstain]

thinking about how the first time peter sees rose again is most likely also the first time he’s heard his real name in months, and how rose subsequently spends the rest of the season reminding him of his humanity and who he really is, only for peter to throw away his career and convictions without hesitation in exchange for her safety

thinking about how rose struggled with ptsd and worked so hard to get back to a good place mentally, yet she jumped headfirst into danger as soon as she heard that peter was in trouble and put her career and safety at risk to help him because she knew he needed her, only to realize in the end that the life she wanted was incompatible with the path peter had chosen

thinking about how, even after 10 months apart with no contact, they both immediately fell back into their old patterns with rose watching the surveillance feed while peter slept, and peter picking up dinner, and rose having a dangerous and not-entirely-legal plan that peter had no choice but to go along with, and the banter and the joking, and the way they worked so well together and supported and protected each other

as much as i loved their immediate connection in season 1, the angst and tension in their relationship in season 2 was just immaculate – it’s about the yearning and the understanding and the hurt and the mutual sacrifice and the fact that they’re better together and they want to be together but can’t for reasons outside of their control

it’s the fact that peter is aware of how much better his life is with rose in it, both personally and professionally, and his absolute certainty that he can protect her even as much as it worries him to know that she’s in danger

it’s the fact that peter comes to the realization this season that he himself is the cause of that danger, that she will never be safe as long as she’s associated with him, that just because he can protect her doesn’t mean that she wants to live the kind of life where she constantly needs protection

it’s the fact that things are different this time around, because she’s more than just a witness he needs to protect, because he knows her now, because he cares about her, because he will never be able to live with himself if something happens to her

it’s the fact that peter gave up his life for hers, he became a traitor in exchange for her safety, and he'll take that secret to the grave so she can move on with her life and forget about him

it’s the fact that rose sees peter slowly losing himself to desperation and suspicion, falling further and further into that dark place she herself once inhabited, so she chooses to stay with him, to support him and protect him in her own way, to make sure he never forgets who he really is

it’s the fact that rose has never felt more like her old self than when she’s working the case with peter, and she feels more alive than she has in a long time that night after the party, until she sees the worry and panic on peter’s face when he realizes she didn’t keep her promise

it’s the fact that she understands the guilt he feels from each loss, and the fact that she could never put him in a position where he might have to mourn her too

it’s the fact rose likes peter, likes the two of them together, but she doesn’t know how they could ever have a normal life together, but she could never forget about him either

it’s the fact that they both sacrificed so much for the other but it still wasn’t enough to keep them together in the end

i am foaming at the mouth, i am rattling the bars of my enclosure, i am impatiently waiting for season 3

[atelierlili]

ok besties, i'm planning to make a major arcana tarot card collection for the THG, but I need some help because 1. i'm kinda stumped and 2. I havent finished TBOSAS so maybe area i'm missing have characters that suit them well. Anyway I'd love some feed back to bounce some ideas around. I don't mind if some characters are used more than once, but Im trying to limit to 2 cards per character.

The Fool (Beginnings, innocence, spontaneity, a free spirit); Effie Trinket. The unaware, optimistic character of the fool, feels fitting for Effie. As for most of the series, she goes around somewhat unaware of the hurdles and dangers that lie before her towards the end of the trilogy.

The Magician (Manifestation, resourcefulness, power, inspired action): Cinna (and Portia??). The magician manifests his goals into the real world. This feels self explanitory.

High Priestess: (Intuition, sacred knowledge, divine feminine, the subconscious mind) UNDECIDED. But I am leaning towards either Mrs. Everdeen or Finnick Odair. The High Priestess provides deep intuitive understanding  and awareness via hidden/secret information. These are the two characters that a lowkey guide us throught Katniss' inner state. Finnick does it more openingly in the story, but its through her mother and her failings that we true see and understand Katniss' character.

The Hierophant: (Spiritual wisdom, religious beliefs, conformity, tradition,institutions) UNDECIDED. But maybe Plutarch or Caeser Flickerman? As they both have a hand in imparting knowledge (from a higher authority) to the people via their platform. Oh maybe I can use them post. One to represent the Heirophant upright, and the other to represent it do downright. Reversed, it represents Personal beliefs, freedom, challenging the status quo, which I think aligns more with Plutarch.

The Empress: (Femininity, beauty, nature, nurturing, abundance) UNDECIDED. I'm so torn. This feels like a good fit for Katniss, BUT I already have plans for her in the other cards and I want other characters to have representation. My other picks are Lucy Gray and Prim/Rue, but like I said I haven't finished TBOSAS yet. lol

The Emperor: (Authority, establishment, structure, a father figure) It's Snow. lmao

Lovers: (Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices) Of course. It's Everlark

The Chariot: ( Control, willpower, success, action, determination) Alma Coin. Feels very fitting considers that the rebels one and she tried to take full control afterwards.

Strength: (Strength, courage, persuasion, influence, compassion) Prim and Rue? But Johanna feels like a good fit too.

Hermit: (Soul-searching, introspection, being alone, inner guidance) Haymitch Abernathy ))))):

Wheel of Fortune: The reaping bowl.

Justice: Gale Hawthorne

The Hanged Man: (Pause, surrender, letting go, new perspectives) UNDECIDED. I'm kinda torn between Peeta, Prim, Johanna and Cinna for this. The Hanged Man is the card of ultimate surrender, martydom and sacrifice for the greater good. Katniss would also be a good pick too.

Death: (Endings, change, transformation, transition) 74th Games bloodbath?

Temperance: (Balance, moderation, patience, purpose) Finnick Odair. The Temperance card is stabilize you with patience and moderation, not force or resistance. It's fitting for a character who was helping Katniss ground herself during Mockingjay.

The Devil: (Shadow self, attachment, addiction, restriction, sexuality) MJ Johanna feels fitting for this. Not because she's the evil, but because she's kind of represents the dark and more negative side of Katniss. As she engages in Katniss' worst habits, such as anger and isolation. And would choose short term gratification and the expense of long term prosperity. But Snow (as the symbol of the capitol) would fit as well. Which is like duuuuh

The Tower: (Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening) Blowing up the 75th Arena or maybe the Capitol bombs??

Star: (Hope, faith, purpose, renewal, spirituality) It's the boy with the bread! Peeta. Originally I was going to give him the Sun, but I felt like Primrose fit better over there. The star brings hope, love and purpose after great turmoil and challenges. And its fitting that Katniss' lover is the star in the sky that guides her.

The Moon: (Illusion, fear, anxiety, subconscious, intuition) Katniss! This is Katniss. All her main motivations in the story are fueled by these factors.

The Sun: (Positivity, fun, warmth, success, vitality) Primrose. The sun card radiates optimism and positivity. Which is fitting for someone who brings so much warmth into Katniss' life.

Judgement: The Mockingjay

The World: (Completion, integration, accomplishment, travel) Toast Babies. Children and children death and suffering. Are the core subjects of the book. The toast babies exists represent the wholeness and achieve of everyone Katniss and the rest of Panem has to suffer to end the games.

[butchisrevolution]

dolly dog man readthrough #5

PART #1 BC MY ASS CANNOT STOP YAPPING

for whom the ball rolls

THERE IS SO MUCH TO ANALYZE IN THIS BOOK

holuy shit now they're tackling minority power struggle, racial discrimination and class war in dog man . wtf

is this that autism speaks thing or am i tripping

asl dogman my beloved

that must be stressful for li'l petey. like, you have two dads, the one you were created by and the one that adopted you. you have an deep rooted emotional attachment to the one who created you despite his flaws, "even crack babies love their mama", but you look up to your adoptive dad so much more because he aligns with your values. he does what's considered the right thing.

but he also has an innate dislike to your birth father, due to issues that predate you, issues you can't rectify. you know your birth father is trying to fix them, but you still have to watch your adoptive father unlearn his distaste for him. you know it's getting better, but it hurts just to see it. even one glimpse of hatred towards someone you love BY someone you love hurts immensely. but you just have to watch and wait, do what you can and stay optimistic because it's out of your control.

also, i like the artistic choice that every time there's an important or moving piece of dialogue it just shows their silhouettes and a color corresponding to the feelings that it brings up. its a nice touch

FUCK YEAH ANARCHY!!

also

my fav polycule . the gang is back together again. YES

from an analysis standpoint, he's feeling super insecure right now. he definitely doesn't want them around solely because he feels inferior to their parenting skills and thinks it would be too painful to have them around due to that. he also thinks his kid would like them more than him, which probably is making him feel unloved and unwanted. his kid's hesitancy is feeling like a rejection of him, which makes him question his identification with being better than his own father. he's thinking this subconsciously, of course, i don't think he's currently self aware enough to realize that

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN THIS SCENE AND THE PREVIOUS SCENE WHERE HE MADE HIM SLEEP IN THE CLOSET AGHH

THE CONTRAST AUGHHH

THEY'RE DOMESTIC NOW

WHAT DID I SAYYYY . IT WAS NEVER ABT DOG MAN AND 80-HD IT WAS ABOUT HIM. AND HIS DADDY ISSUES

shiiiiit

YESSS.. NOW THAT HE HAS CONFRONTED AND DISCUSSED THE ROOT OF HIS DISCOMFORT HE CAN FOCUS ON WHAT'S BEST FOR ALL OF THEM WITH LESS INSECURITY. BUST

my shaylas... theyre sharing the custody... my fucked up gay polycule... i am overjoyed

aweee... my shaylas ... <3

they r figuring out their family struggles and finding a healthier dynamic. this is great

also this is a rlly funny bedframe considering my petey npd theory.. LMAO

this is also literally just like what sleeping in a bed with an actual cat is like

generational mental illness confirmed. this is how u give ur kids disorders

oh baby. ow. he was repressing the guilt with cognitive dissonance, excusing it by thinking li'l petey wouldn't remember, but now that they've finally aknowledged it he has to confront it.

the symbolism in the last panel. the noises are scaring li'l petey. he's literally trying to shield him from the generational trauma :(

[indycinders]

Gonna add my own thoughts to this too because this was cool to think about /w\ maybe mild spoilers ahead?

When you think about them and MC, it makes a lot more sense.

Caleb wants you to only see him as that person that's always been by your side, that's always played with you and took care of you and protected you. He never wanted you to see his dark thoughts, his obsession, his feelings. And his eyes reflect that. He's carefully guarded and chooses what you see. It's almost scary how good he is at manipulation and deception. I wouldn't want to piss off the Colonel if I wasn't MC haha.

Even after the events of his chapter and when you unlock him, in his following memories, he still struggles with dropping that mask after you know everything. Even if you accept all of him, as he is, flaws and all, he's so conditioned to this that it's his default now. In one of his phone calls, we hear his vulnerability with him saying something like, "Even if he's the worst Caleb of all of them, you still want him?"

Caleb is so tragic to me but that also makes me love him so much more. I'm waiting on the last shard before I peruse his myth, so my feelings might change, but what I know so far makes my heart break.

When it comes to Sylus, he's got that carefully crafted criminal leader persona. And that's what it is, a persona. Made from the struggle of survival, from the judgment of humans, from not being good enough for whatever reason he feels that is. I wouldn't say he's manipulative, but he is definitely calculating. He's playing 4D chess while we're all still figuring out checkers.

His eyes are so expressive because that's how he communicates. He feels the weight of responsibility for a position such as his and he can't often let himself outwardly show emotion. In his Night of Secrecy card, when he covers our eyes, even then he's hiding himself from us. We get a glimpse of him losing control of that facade and giving into that weakness, that vulnerability that we cause him.

I also think he's not afraid of showing his emotions through his eyes simply because of his power with the Aether core and ability to know people's desires. And maybe a part of him lets himself be vulnerable in that way because he can expose others vulnerabilities.

We know he's not guarded like Caleb. We see it in the way he treats us, the way he cares and shows love. Anything we ask, he has an answer for. He never lies, not really. He might omit the truth but he also expects us to be keen enough to know what he's saying. Like, again, in his Night of Secrecy card. He tried to slip away by making an excuse but knew we would catch on and follow him.

I haven't gone through his Conqueror myth yet (thanks Caleb for distracting me lmao), but I know his Abysm Sovereign myth. We know some part of him feels self loathing and almost shame for what he was.

In my opinion, he doesn't bother fully masking his emotions because he knows that the only one worthy and capable of handling what he lets slip through is us. He knows that we can and have accepted every part of him, good and bad.

He said it best in Razor's Grip. "There is no love purer than mine." And there really isn't.

Not to be weird on main or anything, but I've been studying screenshots of Caleb's expressions and it's so funny how comparatively less expressive his eyes are to Sylus'.

Like Sylus communicates 98% with those big red eyes of his. Caleb communicates only very VERY big changes of his expression solely through his eyes.

So I was compiled some eye screenshots because I really love the expressions Sylus has and did the same with him, (and have way too many saved), but I realised how little his eyes share. These however, are some gems;

When compared to Sylus's eyes though;

It becomes super obvious how much of Caleb's expressions are pretty performative, in the kind of way that is very familiar to me as an autistic person, and feeds in quite nicely to the common theme of him wearing a mask throughout the main story.

Sylus' communication is done mostly verbally because the game actively conveys the fact that he doesn't emote or physically show his feelings very often (he's labelled cold or numb or distant, in a similar way to Zayne, but with more disdain from those around him. It's only the twins who have ever looked at him and realised he was lonely.) because of that his expressions reflect it. His lips don't move much, but his eyes tell stories for him because they're much harder to control.

Meanwhile, Caleb's eyes betray him in big moments. When he's overwhelmed or very emotional, often in the negative, but for the most part he keeps it under control and performs his emotions through the use of smiles and expression. Without his full face, his expressions don't come through properly.

🤷 it doesn't mean a lot, but it was fun to dig through while I was compiling images.

[zshiftsrealities]

PERCIEVENCE AND EXPECTATIONS

your expectations are directly linked to your manifestations and them becoming a reality. and how you percieve things around you is a reflection of what your expectations are. just like how they say every misunderstanding is a confession of your view on something, your reaction to the 3d and your percievence of it is a confession of what you actually believe in. because if you believe what you want will show up, you won't be getting angry about “not seeing it” because you know that it will show up.

what you focus on, you see more of it. if today I start focusing on seeing red cars around me, i'm gonna start seeing red cars around me, and then i'll have a thought like “woah, didn't know there were so many red cars”, because there weren't until I decided to start seeing them. so instead of focusing on how your desire “isn't showing up”, focus on the knowing of “it will show up, sooner or later”.

I often have this thought of “yeah I guess it's somewhat true that our mind controls the reality we see. but there are so many instances where stuff happened and I didn't even think of it, or what I thought of didn't happen. so did the law not work then?”, and then i'm annoyed because I seriously can't be pissing myself off right now 😭 like be fr, which side are you on?

but on a serious note, I realized why that would be the case, and it has everything to do with your self concept and your percievence of things around you. because yeah, I did want something to happen and the the opposite of it did. why? because I was so deep in this mindset of “everything was happening for the worst” and “I don't deserve good things” blah blah blah. so obviously (🙄), that's exactly what happened. what I believed in was what showed up.

I just today read one of Neville's books online and as I was getting ready to take a nap, I was dissecting everything I read and this thought appeared.

“see what you want to see, to see what you want to see.”

— zshiftsrealities, 2025 (lol)

you have to see it in imagination to see it in reality. and if you continue seeing the opposite of it, then don't be upset if that shows up because — as much as it sucks to hear it — that's your own doing. because what you expect is what will be. you will never see something show up for you unless you expect it to do so first, whether consciously or subconsciously. and the irony of it all is, you don't even have to be too specific with this expectation. you can just today start expecting only good things happening to you, and whatever you consider as “good” will start happening. same with the bad, and same with the “unimaginable”.

everything that happens to you, happens for your own good, never against you— unless you think it does. and then it will. because nothing has any meaning attached to it other than the meaning you give it. you choose to perceive something the way you percieve it, so percieve it in a way you want it to appear and show up for you.

it's not a matter of it being possible or not, nor of whether it can be manifested or not— it's the matter of if you think you deserve it or not. because if you think you don't deserve something, you simply cannot have it. similarly, if you think you deserve it, then it doesn't matter how impossible it seems— you will have it.

so just be “crazy” and believe everything is working in your favor 24/7, because it is. believe that what you see as a bad circumstance is actually just all in your head, and is actually somehow in your very favor, because it is. believe that nothing can ever work against you, because it simply can't. the point of existence of everything is to be working in your favor, and if it was to not do that, then it simply wouldn't exist anymore.

your enemy isn't your thoughts or your mind, it's that little voice in your head that disguises itself as you and fills your mind with bullshit thoughts. and it's only there because you think it's you. it's not! anything that is affirming something that's against what you want is not you. because you know, you wouldn't do something like that. so identify this little monster and pick it apart until nothing's left of it. until it doesn't have a voice anymore, or any place in your mind.

also, read these two points, and had a huge “eureka!” moment.

“you do not command things to appear by your words or loud affirmations. such vain repetition is more often than not confirmation of the opposite.”

— Neville Goddard, At Your Command

because I get the point, repeat affirmations to make your mind believe them. works wonders, I know. but some minds are just so awfully stubborn that the more you affirm, the more they clap back and try to shut you out instead.

the more you focus on your “desire” by repeated affirming, or by affirming every single detail about it, the more it starts to create doubts about it actually coming to pass.

“commands, to be effective, must be short and to the point.”

— Neville Goddard, At Your Command

so, make it short, just like I said before— just expect good to happen. be specific and be general about it at the same time. that's it. how hard is it? try saying it to yourself, “from now on, only good will happen to me”. do you hear your mind going “nuh uh”? no, because why would it? (if you do, your mind needs some serious beating, i'm not even kidding).

but the point is, when you start expecting something, you start thinking of it actually appearing, and the feeling of it already being here naturally comes with it. like, say you post something (on any platform), and now you're expecting for other people to see it and like it. your mind would “naturally” be visualizing this happening without you even wanting it to (or atleast is the case with me). try it even. it's actually that easy. that's what they mean when they say it's easy. because it's easy. don't try to reason with this and make it difficult. accept it is easy and move on and actually get what you want.

[funeral--pyre]

What's with all the created system discourse lately. Like yeah created systems have been yelled at for being endos for a while now but we're seeing it separately from that and specifically targeted a lot lately.

Like okay, you don't believe someone can create a system willingly? That's cool if you're not an asshole about it. The same as an otherkin may not believe that past lives exist and only see them as psychological, yet they still respect and don't dismiss otherkin who feel their kintypes come from past lives. They're as valid as anyone else with the experience, they just don't see eye to eye on how it was formed--but that doesn't matter because they have the experience shared between them.

Sure, there's differences between created and noncreated plurals in their experiences. But largely it literally boils down to still being plural. Why does someone else having different beliefs and living that experience affect you? Why do you have to comment? Why do you have to come at em on anon? Why can't you have the decency to just... Block them if you really hate it?

You can think literally whatever you want about the brain and what it's capable of. You can even ignore the literal actual studies done on tulpas if you want. I don't care WHAT you do, have your beliefs if you want to hold them. But it crosses a line into you actually being the harmful one when you decide to harrass people you don't agree with. ESPECIALLY when there's literal studies that have been done on tulpas--a common form of created plurality. Learn to block things you don't like and move on like a person with any actual self control, instead of throwing tantrums when you can't fathom someone being a little different.

[familyagrestefanblog]

No, you know what? I AM upset at how Marinette in "Illustrhater" just put all of that on Alya again without giving her a real option to say "no", all while she once more leaves Chat Noir in the dust to find it out the worst possible way again that he isn't her real partner when he'll be forced to accept under the most painful circumstances that Ladybug didn't want him, too, to be able to contact her memory spirit when she's gone.

Marinette is an insanely inconsidered and self-serving "partner" for BOTH Chat Noir and Alya! No, I'm not okay with that. Fuck all that. Not only has she never actually grown since season 4, she is actively getting worse again in how little she ever thinks about other people.

I AM upset at Marinette using her guardian privilege to ignore the natural bonding and partnership needed between a Kwami and their holder just so she can feel better and in control. I don't give a DAMN that Alya spend alot of time with Marinette and Tikki since season 4, Marinette still has no business ordering Tikki to make a Kwagatama! And no, I don't care about your headcanon that it was Tikki's idea or she's on the same page as Marinette regarding Alya. That didn't happen on screen. YOU made that explanation up to deflect the problem.

And yes, I AM upset at Marinette just dismissing Trixx' objection because he wants to stay with Alya! Marinette got all the excuses and special treatments in the world in season 4 for sidelining Tikki more and more and literally giving no SHIT about Plagg beyond her getting validation, because she's "such a caring guardian who's putting so much on herself to finally treat the Kwamis with love"

And now not only did she dismiss Barkk in the London special when Barkk wanted to hold Nathalie accountable for helping Gabriel and the harm she caused the KWAMIS by keeping them locked up,

not only did she keep a clearly worried Plagg from returning to his beloved chosen for at least several days (which also lead to Cerise just needing to take both Miraculous from ONE person. This was long established as reason why one person shouldn't have both the Ladybug AND the Black Cat!)

No, now she's dismissing Trixx, too, entirely when he dared to ask for his bond with Alya to matter more than Marinette's need to get every easy and fast solution she thinks of first!

Where is that caring Guardian Marinette got all excuses and special treatments in the world for being? She ain't on screen! Marinette just didn't give a shit about Trixx' feelings or what Alya thinks of it. She just decides that once she's gone Alya will be the Ladybug, Guardian, and team leader, and Trixx will be given to someone else.

No one has a saying in anything. No one matters. No one's feelings, experiences, and desires matter. In Marinette's writing, only MARINETTE matters.

She won't listen. She won't consider. SHE decides what everyone feels and SHE decides what everyone is and will be.

No growth, no attempts at trying to improve. She's just written to take for herself whatever she wants and then cries and screams how misunderstood and tormented she is when reality dares to clash with her inconsideration for the third season in a row!

Yes, I AM upset!

[somecosmic-typashit]

The more desperate you are to control something, and the more you try to do it, it's out of your control. - "You shouldn't feel need to do it, but will and want"

I enjoy talking to myself like this (February 3rd 2025.)

One time I saw someone comment "But if you really control your reality, why can't I control weather than, huh???" Under Law of assumption and shifting post...

The thing is, the weather is part of reality or an illusion, you can control it as long as you assume you can or become aware that you can, including how drastic the change of weather can be (obviously). Although you're controlling it even now, just unconsciously.

I like to mess with weather often and treat it like little practice for my subconscious mind to make it easier for myself to accept the fact that everything is limitless if I want it to be. Like, if it says there's 80% of chance for raining and that there's high chance it will rain whole day, I just go with assumption that is more easier for my mind to comprehend such as: "it will stop in hour or sooner and it won't rain again today" After that, I do something distracting such as scrolling on my phone for example, to forget about it and move on, that way I set my mind to accept it faster because I can't overthink it or doubt it, which makes it manifest instantly, since there's no extra thoughts that can overtake dominance instead of whole goal I wanted to achieve.

And of course, the wanted end results appear just like I knew they will.

The more often I did those little experiments, I came to conclusion that you absolutely don't need to repeat affirmations, you just have to say it once and once you do, it's already done. You show control over your emotions and thoughts that way, the first and most important thing is to learn how to control your own self. Control the beliefs you have, control what you'll let go off, control what you'll forget about, control how you'll react, control the thoughts you choose to think about often, control emotions you decided to feel, control your actions and control what you want to listen to. It all gives you advantage of controlling reality and changing it, because it's you that you have to change, since reality is reflection of who you choose to be. If you already knew it was done long time ago and that you already have your desire or that you're experiencing it right now. You wouldn't repeat affirmations mindlessly like a robot while thinking the complete opposite of them and silently dismissing them.

When you see that all of this is pure nothingness, including yourself. You will realize that being nothing is everything. As you look at all physical things you see at subatomic level, they don't exist, they're originally made of nothing. It's all shape and form of illusion, not true essence. That's why you don't need anything, because you are everything.