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heliosunny · 2 days ago

Note

Your writing for Phainon is soon good 💖 How about something with a Dragon-shifter!Reader who kidnaps Prince!Phainon as dragons do - maybe to get a nice ransom from the royal family - the only problem is that he ain't interested in getting rescued. And may have just slaughtered the knights sent to free him and slay the dragon himself.

Yandere!Phainon x Dragon-shifter!Reader

The sky was dark by the time you reached the ruins of the castle, the stone walls jagged and broken from age, yet still standing against the weight of time. It was a place long forgotten, nestled deep within the mountains, far beyond the reach of any kingdom, perfect for keeping a prince.

“You’re a bold one, I’ll give you that.”

Prince Phainon mused, his voice calm despite the chains coiling around his wrists. His silver-white hair was tousled from the rough flight, his blue eyes gleaming in the dim torchlight.

“Most would hesitate before daring to steal a royal away.”

You ignored him, dragging him forward. You had to admit, his lack of fear was… annoying. Maybe even unsettling. He hadn’t even screamed when you plucked him from his fancy palace, claws closing around him like a vice. He merely stared, as if daring you to drop him.

"Don’t waste your breath" you muttered, shoving open the rusted iron doors. Dust rose from the disturbance, swirling in the air. "You’re not here for conversation."

Phainon chuckled, unfazed. "No? Then why am I here, oh mighty beast?"

You tossed him forward. He landed on his knees with a grunt, but when he lifted his gaze, there was something dangerously amused about the way he looked at you.

"Ransom" you finally said. "Your kingdom will pay handsomely to get their precious prince back."

His laughter filled the place.

Your brow twitched. "What’s so funny?"

Phainon grinned up at you, shoulders shaking. "Oh, you poor, clueless thing. You really think they’ll come for me?" He leaned back, tilting his head. "Let me spare you the disappointment, they won’t. Not before they send someone to kill you first."

You narrowed your eyes. That was expected, of course. Kings rarely sent gold before swords. But it didn’t matter. You could handle any knight they threw your way.

"Then I’ll just have to deal with them." you said.

Phainon hummed, watching you with something unreadable in his gaze. He tilted his head, his smirk never faltering.

"You truly have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you?"

You ignored him. The sooner you got him locked away, the sooner you could rest. The flight back had taken a toll, not that you’d ever admit it. Transforming, carrying a fully grown man in your claws, keeping to the shadows to avoid unnecessary fights… It was exhausting. And the moment you’d dumped Phainon inside the ruined halls of your abandoned castle, all you could think about was tending to your aching limbs.

Chains had been enough to keep him in place, or so you assumed. You doubted he’d escape, and even if he did, where would he go? You were deep in the mountains, miles away from the nearest civilization.

And so, you left him to his own devices, disappearing into one of the castle’s still-standing chambers. A cracked mirror leaned against the wall, reflecting your disheveled form. You frowned, brushing dirt from your arms before pouring water into a rusted basin, splashing it against your face.

Just a quick rinse. Then, rest.

You didn’t notice the absence of chains.

Didn’t hear the soft, amused laughter echoing down the halls.

Didn’t realize your supposed prisoner had already slipped away.

Phainon rolled his shoulders as he strode through the forest, fingers brushing over the hilt of the sword he had so generously reclaimed from the ruins. His smirk widened. Really, he should be thanking you. It had been far too long since he had been truly entertained.

Ahead, the sound of armored footsteps drew his attention. He didn’t slow his pace, letting the knights spot him first. Their reactions were immediate- relief, determination, wariness.

"Your Highness!" One of them, a captain by the look of his insignia, rushed forward. "You’re safe! We came as soon as we heard-"

"Safe?" Phainon interrupted smoothly, tilting his head. "Was I ever in danger?"

The knights exchanged glances. "The beast-"

"Was nothing more than a misguided fool" he finished, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve. "I was just about to return, after dealing with my own business of course. No need for all this… concern."

The captain hesitated. "We can’t allow that, Your Highness. We must escort you—"

A sigh. Phainon turned his gaze to the trees, as if contemplating. "Ah, what a shame" he murmured. "I told you I would return."

He moved before they could react.

Steel flashed. Blood spattered against bark. The knights barely had time to scream before his blade cut through them like a whisper. Limbs crumpled, bodies fell. Their eyes, wide with shock, stared at him even in death.

Phainon exhaled, stepping over the corpses without a second thought.

"Now, then" he murmured, wiping his blade clean. "Where were we?"

With a smirk, he turned back toward the castle.

His little dragon was waiting.

Phainon pushed open the heavy wooden door, the creak echoing through the abandoned chamber. His eyes flicked over the dimly lit space, stone walls worn by time, a tattered bed of old furs, and there, lying in the center, a figure.

Not a dragon.

A human.

His brows lifted slightly, the only sign of his surprise. The realization came quickly, his captor was no ordinary beast. The dragon and this person were one and the same.

Leaning against the doorway, he observed you. Your breath was steady, though he noted the faint twitch of your fingers. He could slit your throat now, end this little game before it spiraled further.

But where would the fun be in that?

He stepped closer.

The moment his foot scuffed against the stone, your eyes snapped open.

Your instincts took over before reason could settle in, because your captive was free, because he had a sword again, because he stood over you with an unreadable smirk.

You moved in a flash.

Your hands shot out, grabbing at his limbs, forcing them down. Chains slithered from beneath the bedding, precautions you had set up, ones that now snapped into place with ease. His wrists slammed against the cold floor, and with a sharp twist, you locked his legs as well.

You pressed a knee against his chest, breathing heavy. "How did you escape?"

Phainon merely chuckled, entirely too amused despite his current position. "You should be asking yourself.. how did you fall for it?"

You narrowed your eyes.

His strength was not that of an ordinary man, you realized that when he shifted slightly beneath you, and your balance nearly tipped. He was holding back.

"You really are something else" he mused, tilting his head, the flickering firelight casting shadows over his sharp features. His blue eyes dragged over you, lingering, intrigued. "What should I call you? Or do you prefer ‘beast’?"

You didn’t answer.

His smirk widened. "You’re quite breathtaking up close, you know."

You scowled. "Spare me your empty words."

He laughed. "Oh, but I never lie." He shifted slightly, testing the chains, his muscles tensing beneath you. "And I never let myself be bound for long."

You barely had time to react before he tore free, a sheer burst of strength shattering his restraints like they were nothing. You leaped back, but not fast enough, his hands shot out, grabbing your wrist, flipping you before you could reach for another weapon.

The cold edge of his sword pressed against your throat.

For the first time, you truly looked at him, not as a mere human, but something far more dangerous.

His grip was firm, yet his touch was almost playful. His smirk was unreadable, a dangerous mix of amusement and something else entirely.

"You were saying?" he murmured.

Your lips curled, sharp canines glinting. "You assume too much."

Before his blade could descend, your form shifted- partly.

Your tail, thick with scales, shot forward, blocking the strike with an echoing clang. Sparks flew as his sword clashed against it, the force sending a tremor through the room.

Phainon’s smirk faltered for only a second before morphing into something else- pure, unfiltered intrigue.

"...Oh" he breathed, almost in awe. "Now this is getting interesting."

Phainon barely had time to act before you twisted, your tail sweeping low and knocking him off balance. His sword arm jerked, and you seized the opportunity, shifting back into your human form just enough to move swiftly, you grabbed his wrist, spun behind him, and yanked it up toward his back.

"Persistent" he said, amusement still lacing his voice, even as you forced him down.

"Annoying." you countered, your grip like iron as you shoved him to the cold stone floor.

The chains were still broken, so you resorted to something sturdier. From the corner, you grabbed thick, enchanted rope- strong enough to hold even creatures of great power. You looped it around his wrists, pulling them behind his back, then secured his legs in a way that left minimal room for struggle.

Despite being effectively restrained again, Phainon’s smirk remained, sharp and taunting. "You do like tying me up, don’t you? Should I be flattered or concerned?"

You yanked the rope tighter. "Be quiet."

A chuckle. "As you wish, my dear captor."

With a roll of your eyes, you stepped back, observing your handiwork. He was bound tightly this time, no easy way out, not unless he wanted to snap his own limbs.

But before you could relish your victory, he sighed dramatically.

"At least let me bathe before you keep me here like some caged beast" he drawled, his expression the perfect mixture of false suffering and noble exasperation. "I reek of blood. Is this any way to treat a prince?"

You scoffed. "You are a beast."

"And yet, I still deserve some dignity" he quipped, tilting his head. "Unless you enjoy the scent of dried blood and sweat?"

Your nose wrinkled. You didn’t.

Annoyance prickled at you, but you relented. He was still tied up. What harm could a bath do?

"Fine" you muttered.

Before he could gloat, you grabbed the ropes binding his limbs, dragged him up, and hauled him across the room.

Phainon let out a surprised grunt as you tugged him along. "Ah—so forceful. If you wanted to drag me somewhere private, you could’ve asked."

You ignored him.

The abandoned castle still had an intact bathhouse, a large pool of water fed by an underground spring. With one final tug, you yanked him forward and—

SPLASH!

You threw him in.

Phainon resurfaced with a sharp inhale, his silver hair now plastered to his face, water dripping down his broad shoulders. He blinked once. Twice. Then, he tilted his head up at you, his smirk both impressed and incredulous.

"You know" he mused, "when I asked for a bath, I expected something a little more… dignified."

You crossed your arms. "Be grateful I didn’t throw you off a cliff instead."

"Ah, but would you really? You seem far too attached already."

You grabbed a bucket and unceremoniously dumped more water over his head.

"Pfah!" He sputtered, shaking his head like a wet dog before blinking up at you again, lips curling into something downright mischievous. "If you wanted to get my clothes off, you could've just said so."

Your face twitched.

You promptly turned and walked out, leaving him tied up in the bath to deal with himself.

"Wait—! You’re just leaving me here?"

"You'll figure it out."

His laughter echoed behind you. "I like you more and more, little dragon."

The morning greeted you with an unfamiliar sound—soft, deep, and far too close. A hum. A HUM?

It took a moment for your groggy mind to register it. A gentle, unhurried melody, smooth as silk, drifting through the cool air of your chamber. You stirred, cracking one eye open, only to groan and bury your face into the pillow.

Phainon.

The silver-haired prince, your supposed prisoner, sat beside your bed, his arms resting casually on the frame as he leaned forward, watching you with the ease of a man who belonged there. He was freshly bathed from last night, his damp silver locks tousled slightly, his tunic loose at the collar. But what was most irritating was the absolute serenity in his expression as he continued to hum.

It wasn’t even an unpleasant sound. If anything, it was oddly calming.

"Shut up" you muttered, dragging the blanket over your head.

Phainon merely chuckled, his voice still low with sleep. "Good morning to you too, little dragon."

"Not a morning person?"

You groaned louder, pressing your hands over your ears.

His humming didn’t stop. If anything, it turned into an actual song, low, lyrical words spilling effortlessly from his lips.

You flung a pillow at him.

He caught it easily, smirking. "Tsk, so violent. I’m just trying to lighten the mood."

"You shouldn’t be here." You finally sat up, glaring. "How are you here?"

Phainon tilted his head, eyes glinting with amusement. "You tied me up, threw me into a bath, and then left me. Did you really think that would keep me contained?"

Your frown deepened. He was strong, you knew that, but you had used enchanted rope this time. He shouldn’t have been able to slip free so easily.

As if reading your thoughts, Phainon propped his chin on one hand, smirking. "I’ll let you in on a secret," he murmured, voice dipping. "I’ve never been trapped. I just enjoy watching you try."

You hated how easily his words sent a flicker of unease down your spine.

But before you could reply, the distant sound of armor clanking and hurried footsteps caught your attention.

Phainon let out a sigh, stretching leisurely, as if the mere idea of more interruptions exhausted him. "Ah. Took them long enough."

You shot up, shoving him aside. "Stay here."

You didn’t wait for his response. Rushing down the stone corridors, you made your way to the castle’s entrance. The knights were already spilling into the ruins, swords drawn, scanning the area. Their captain, a broad-shouldered man with a scar across his cheek—stepped forward.

"You there!" he barked. "We received word that Prince Phainon was taken by a dragon. Where is he?"

You hesitated. Your first instinct was to tell them you were the dragon, but something in your gut warned you against it. You had no love for humans, but you weren’t bloodthirsty either. You had taken Phainon for ransom, not war.

But before you could decide how to respond— Phainon let out a chuckle.

He stepped out from behind you, his gaze sweeping over the assembled knights like a wolf among sheep. His sword was already in his hand.

The captain’s face twisted in relief. "Your Highness! We came to rescue you—"

"Rescue me?" Phainon repeated, voice laced with mockery. "From what, exactly?"

The knights stiffened. "From the dragon—!"

Phainon then moved.

Steel sliced through the air, swift and merciless. Blood sprayed across the stone.

Silence.

Then, chaos.

The remaining knights recoiled in horror, some shouting, some scrambling to draw their weapons. But it was already too late.

You could only watch.

Your breath hitched as the last knight staggered back, his sword shaking in his grasp. "Y-Your Highness, what—?"

Phainon drove his blade clean through the man’s chest.

A ragged gasp. A final shudder. Then, nothing.

As the last body collapsed, Phainon exhaled, flicking blood from his blade. His posture remained relaxed, unaffected, as if he had merely completed a morning exercise.

Then, slowly, he turned to you.

His smirk was still there, unchanged, unwavering. But his eyes…

Cold. Sharp. Unrelenting.

He murmured, voice smooth as silk. "Where were we?"

Your breath came in ragged bursts. The scent of blood—fresh, thick, suffocating, filled the abandoned halls. Around you, bodies lay strewn, once armored knights reduced to mere corpses. And at the center of it all stood him.

Phainon, the prince you had kidnapped, the human you thought was nothing more than an arrogant, troublesome captive. Now, standing before you, bathed in crimson, he was something else entirely.

"You…" Your voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. "What have you done?"

Phainon tilted his head, flicking stray droplets of blood from his blade. "What needed to be done" he said simply, as if that explained everything.

Your claws curled. You could feel the shift pulling at your skin, your instincts screaming at you to fight. "They came to help you."

He chuckled. "Did they?" His piercing blue eyes met yours, unblinking. "Or did they come to drag me back to a place I had no intention of returning to?"

You gritted your teeth. "You killed your own men!"

"And yet, here I stand." He took a step toward you, slow and deliberate. "And you, little dragon, haven’t run. Haven’t struck me down. Why is that?"

Your pulse pounded in your ears. You had so many reasons. The problem was, you couldn’t pick one.

Because you were stunned. Because your mind still reeled from what you had just witnessed.

"You’re a monster" you snarled.

Phainon exhaled, his smirk softening, something almost fond flickering across his blood-smeared features. "I never claimed to be a hero."

That was it. That was the moment your restraint snapped.

You lunged.

Your tail lashed out, striking toward him like a whip, but he was fast. He sidestepped, blade flicking up just in time to meet your claws. Sparks flew as steel met scale.

"That’s more like it" he purred.

You growled, twisting, your tail sweeping at his legs. He jumped back, but you were already on him again, clawed hands gripping his tunic, shoving him hard against the stone wall.

"You think this is amusing?" you hissed, your breath hot against his face.

Phainon smiled.

"You’re magnificent when you’re angry" he murmured.

Your grip tightened. "I should rip you apart."

His smirk didn’t waver. "But you won’t."

Damn him for being right.

You hated that you hesitated. You hated that your instincts, your dragon instincts, were at war with something else entirely.

"You’ve fascinated me from the moment you took me" he confessed. "At first, I thought it was amusement. Curiosity." He tilted his head, the sharp edges of his expression easing just slightly. "But it’s more than that, isn’t it?"

"You could have killed me" he continued, as if weaving the truth between you both. "Yet you didn’t." His eyes traced your face, your form, like he was memorizing every detail. "And I could have killed you. Yet I won’t."

Your chest heaved. "Why?"

His fingers brushed your wrist, so gently, so deliberately.

"Because I don’t want to." His smile turned wicked. "Because I want you."

Your world tilted.

Your claws flexed, your mind screaming at you to reject it. To deny him. But Phainon only looked at you like he had already won. And you hated that you didn’t know if he was wrong.

You were still seething when Phainon led you toward the kingdom’s gates.

You should have run. You should have killed him.

But instead, you were here, walking beside the man who should have been your prisoner, yet somehow, you felt like the one who had been captured.

The city was alive with murmurs the moment the two of you entered. The scent of blood still clung to Phainon’s clothes, a stark contrast to his relaxed demeanor. People gasped, whispered, stepped aside as he walked through the streets with you in tow.

But it was nothing compared to the reaction inside the royal palace.

The moment the throne room doors burst open, the king and queen, seated on their ornate thrones, turned with sharp, wide-eyed disbelief.

"Phainon?" the king's voice was filled with stunned relief. "You're alive?"

The queen clutched her chest. "The knights said.." She hesitated, gaze flickering toward you. "Who is this?"

You barely had time to part your lips before Phainon slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you against him.

His next words sent a ripple of shock through the room.

"This?" His smirk was downright predatory. "This one belongs to me now."

The king's expression darkened. "Phainon!"

"You sent knights to retrieve me," he interrupted smoothly. "And they failed. Miserably." He glanced down at you, as if you were some prize he had won rather than a kidnapper-turned-reluctant-companion. "So I took something better in return."

Your lips parted in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

His grip tightened ever so slightly. "Careful, little dragon," he murmured against your ear, low enough that only you could hear. "You wouldn’t want them thinking you’re protesting too much, now would you?"

Your body tensed. He was toying with you. In front of his entire court.

The queen’s hands trembled. "You’re injured—"

"A small price for something so valuable." Phainon mused, tilting his head. "Wouldn’t you agree?"

The nobles in the room exchanged whispers, none daring to speak aloud.

The king exhaled slowly, fingers tightening over the armrest of his throne. "What are you planning, Phainon?"

The prince's smirk widened. "Why, to keep them, of course."

The king finally spoke, his voice cold and measured. "Phainon, do you even understand what you're saying? You cannot simply claim someone as yours—"

"Oh, but I already have." Phainon’s grip on you was firm, his tone laced with amusement. "And I dare anyone to take them from me."

The challenge hung thick in the air, sending another wave of murmurs through the court.

You clenched your fists, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. "I am not some trinket to be owned."

Phainon turned to you, unbothered by your defiance, his lips curling into a lazy smirk. "Of course not." His hand brushed against yours, a deliberate taunt. "You’re something much rarer than that."

You glared at him, heat rising to your cheeks, not from flattery, but from the sheer audacity of this human.

"Fine" you bit out, eyes narrowing. "But don’t think for a second that this means I belong to you. Make sure to keep your promise."

Phainon chuckled, tilting his head as if indulging a joke only he understood. Then, leaning in, he whispered just loud enough for you to hear:

"Oh, little dragon… you just haven't realized it yet."

And with that, the prince turned back to his stunned parents, still grinning like a man who had won everything.

You exhaled slowly. Knowing at least you won't have to live a miserable life anymore.

-----

To the person who requested this, I had fun writing. I think they'll make a cool dragon-prince duo on the battlefield. :333

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #phainon x you #yandere phainon #phainon honkai star rail #hsr phainon #phainon hsr #phainon x reader #phainon

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ablobwhowrites · 3 days ago

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PLEASE-... please just a bit more on the 'A new home sweet home' AU. I'm emotionally attached I'm attached to

Please I need more-... I love them🥲

-the weird one

Don’t worry. There’s a lot more of new home sweet home au cause I like writing for this au.

There was a time when y/n and their best friend went to hang out for a little bit. (Don't worry, y/n's grandma was watching the toys and yeah they where introduced to their grandma and she acts like all the toys are her grandkids and she brought cookies for them everytime she gets to watch them for a bit) y/n's friend kinda snuck into playtime co but only the surface and found a document with y/n's name on it and it read how y/n was perfect for a experiment for a new toy. And their surgery date was the same time as the hour of joy and this makes y/n wonder if had they stayed and not went to work that week then what would happen to the toys? What would have happened to them? After everything and how they didn't know what was happening to the kids in that factory, they trusted that playtime co was a alright company but now they don't know what to think but y/n just decide to burn it. Just felt right that playtime co can't hurt the toys anymore, they can't hurt them anymore.

Also the first week when y/n brought all the toys back to their house. Y/n got some food and when I tell you, the toys sobbed because like food never tasted so good because being starved and forced be eating corpses and rotten food or even other toys. Like y/n made some food for them and when doey ate his food. Jack (sorry if I got the kids names wrong or mixed up) Immediately took over and he started to cry and eat cause like who wouldn't after finally getting to eat a good meal and being able to be in a safe house after being hurt, starved and abandoned and scared for years. And the fridge and any small snacks are all eaten and y/n isn't mad and will just worry about later.

Y/n also may have asked for their friends mini van and to be picked up and y/n's best friend was the first to kinda meet the toys and saw y/n basically bloody and beaten because no way they come out unscathed. It was a very awkward drive back to y/n's house. Also totally imagine just y/n taking a good shower but then shower though hits them and they realize they have bascially traumatized toys who where once kids but horrifically made into these things and now y/n has to take care of them but it's better than the factory. Far better than the factory.

(that's it for this yap session. Promise more stuff for this au is coming out but if you like it please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or just your thoughts on this au. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

#yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere male x male reader #random talks #yandere x darling #x gn y/n #poppy playtime x male reader #yandere poppy playtime #poppy playtime horror game #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime #new home sweet home au

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mvctavish · 3 days ago

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idk if u do platonic requests but can u write like a drabble of simon riley and a daughter!reader where she has separation anxiety

𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x daughter!reader

notes: hi!! this is my first request ever, so tysm! i love this idea and platonic requests are more than welcome ^-^ i do have to say a quick disclaimer: i am not an expert on separation anxiety, so don't take any of this as fact or advice.

summary: during your childhood, simon often noticed how clingy you were. it wasn't necessary a bad thing (since it ensured you'd never wander off or get lost) but it seemed abnormal. as you got older, it became abundantly clear that you suffered from separation anxiety. it was tough, especially when he had to be deployed.

cw: daughter!reader, my bad writing, descriptions of anxiety and anxiety attacks, reader cries, angst, hurt/comfort-esque fic, mentions of riley (the dog), reader's age isn't specified, word count: 1.3k

SIMON RILEY never thought he'd be a good father. It was in his blood, he told himself, destined to be a grade-A asshole like his own dad. However, when you came along, his whole world shifted. You were the product of a one-night stand and entirely unexpected, but you quickly became the most precious part of Simon's life. From the moment he first held you in his arms in the hospital room, he knew he could never, ever hurt you. You were his perfect baby girl, and he'd gladly die and kill for you if it meant you'd be safe from harm.

Raising a kid on his own wasn't easy by any means. Who would've thought a hardened lieutenant would spend his afternoons playing tea parties and barbie dolls and beanie boos? You were the one thing that kept him going. Whenever times got tough, whenever Simon found himself in a grueling situation on the battlefield - you were what lingered on the back of his mind. He had to make it home to you.

As you got older, and your personality warped into a unique soul, one thing stood out. Your separation anxiety. You tried therapy and journaling and breathing exercises and just about every coping mechanism under the sun. It helped, but not on days when Simon would leave. His work kept him away for months at a time, leaving you a nervous wreck that rarely left your room.

Simon hated leaving you, knowing just how much distress it caused you. But unfortunately, life wasn't fair, and he had to make sacrifices. His job was one of those. After years of dealing with your anxiety, he'd learn the best ways to cope with it. Telling you days in advance of his deployment never helped, as you were stuck stressing yourself out and marking the days on your calendar like a countdown to the end of the world. Simon preferred to tell you the day of his departure. It was at least a little easier that way.

The door to his bedroom was left cracked open so Riley could enter and exit as he pleased. The old German Shepherd often made rounds around the apartment, so Simon didn't think much of it as he packed up. He'd only been home for five days, but a call from Price let it known that he'd be needed soon. Simon always, always hated leaving you, but he knew it had to be done.

His black duffel bag sat atop his freshly made bed, unzipped and being filled up with clothes and other necessities like his toothbrush and whatnot. It was still early in the morning, the sunlight just barely beginning to filter in through the half-opened blackout curtains on the window. He hadn't even started to brew his early morning coffee, head fuzzy from sleep. It was quiet and peaceful, for a few passing moments.

Simon's trained ears quickly picked up on a soft gasp of breath. He froze his movements, waiting (it wouldn't be the first time his mind was playing tricks on him). It wasn't until the sounds of shallowed, sharp little breaths did his heart sink. He knew that sound all too well. You were standing in the doorway, clearly having caught your dad packing up for deployment.

“Dad?”

Your voice, small and shaky, is what finally made Simon step into action. He crossed the bedroom in a few long strides, quickly taking you into his arms as your eyes well with tears. This was exactly why he hated leaving. It made his chest ache, his heart hurt, seeing his child so torn up because of him.

“Shhh, it's alright, yeah?” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, a deep timbre taking on a gentle tone made for you alone. One hand cradles the back of your head, fingers delicately brushing through your sleep-tousled hair. The other rests on the small of your back, his hold on you strong and tight but not suffocating. He'd done this dance a thousand times before, comforting you when you need it most. “I'm right here, sunshine, I'm not going anywhere.” Yet.

Hazel eyes darted down to look at you. It's then that he realized your gaze was still focused on his duffel bag, tears trickling down your flushed cheeks in thick globs. Simon was leaving. Your dad was leaving soon, but you needed him home. You were shaking, trembling hands clutching onto the front of his wrinkled sleep shirt. It's quiet. He counted your breaths, coming in and out far too rapidly. Your heart was aching, and your chest felt too tight, making each breath painful. You couldn't get enough air in your lungs, even as you let out a pitiful sob.

Simon's heart shattered at the sound. His daughter, his sunshine, was in pain. You hadn't had an anxiety attack this bad in months. He clenched his jaw as he carefully dropped to his knees, knowing the smallest of movements could startle you. “Look at me.”

When you don't listen right away, his hands, calloused from years of training and military work, come to cradle your cheeks. His touch is soft and tender, handling you like a porcelain doll. “Hey,” Simon speaks again, the single word sounding just a bit more serious than before. Sometimes, a firmer hand is needed. He gently guides you to look at him, teary, red eyes meeting his own. His grip on your cheeks keeps your head in place, not allowing you to look anywhere but at him.

“Take deep breaths, baby,” Simon coaxed, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through chapped lips, hoping you'd soon follow suit. His thumbs gently brushed under your eyes, collecting your tears and wiping them away. He keeps up the slow breathing. “I'm here. I'm right here. You're not alone, sunshine. It's okay.”

“I don't-” you choke on a breath, more tears replacing the ones he'd just wiped away. Another sob falls from your lips. “I don't want you to leave.”

God, the sight of you nearly breaks him. He's a soldier, but you're his weakness. Your brows furrowed, eyes widened, and your chin quivering. Simon feels his throat grow tight as you gasp and struggle for breath. “I don't want to leave, either,” He states, thumbs rubbing the apple of your cheeks to try and ground you. Your hands reach up, gripping onto his wrists. If it weren't for his focus of trying to calm you down, your nails digging crescents into his bare skin would've been painful. He didn't mention it. If that's what you needed, then let it be.

“But I have to, baby. I swear to you, I am always comin’ back home to you.” His thumbs keep working, wiping away each tear they can manage. “You need to calm down. Deep breaths.” And Simon continues the breathing he'd done before.

“I can't-”

“Yes, you can.”

It was easier said than done. The anxiety you felt swallowed you whole, trapping you in a headspace that was hard to escape from. It occupied your every thought, tainting each happy moment and turning it sour. Despite your doubts, you did your best to breathe, chest heaving and hiccuping until you managed. All the while, Simon held you and whispered gentle praises.

“There we go,” Simon whispered, wiping away the remainder of your tears. “Good job.”

Your cheeks were wet and splotchy, sticky tear streaks staining your skin. The rims of your eyes were red and puffy, and your breath still stuttered every once in a while, but you had managed to pull yourself up from the throes of your anxiety attack. Simon remained in front of you, thick brows furrowed in worry as his hands left your cheeks, resting on your arms. His hands rubbed up and down, soothing you completely and keeping you present in the moment.

“I know you don't want me to leave, I know you're scared,” Simon continued after a few beats of silence. “It's alright to be scared, sunshine, but this is something that I have to do. You won't be alone when I'm gone, and I'll call you and text you every day as many times as I can. How's that sound? Good?”

When you nodded, his lips twitched, forming a brief remnant of a smile. “Good.” He repeated and nodded as well. “Now, what d’you want for breakfast?”

#mvctavish ༉‧₊˚ . 🪽#requests ༉‧₊˚ .#call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #lieutenant simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x daughter!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x daughter!reader #simon ghost riley x teen!reader #simon riley x teen!reader #platonic #hurt/comfort #angst

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lucidl0ser · 3 days ago

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The 🍓anon is back with a new idea and of courseee I'm coming back to you to write it downnn if you can <3

Okaay sso maybe Izana- WELL NO, YK WHAT, TENJIKU HCS (if it's possible of course, if it's a lot then Izana, Kaku, Rindou Ran Shion??? I just love shion there's few content about him) with a good innocent reader, not necessarily innocent, but like, someone who doesn't get into trouble, would not hit anyone, sensitive, doesn't smoke or anything... you know where I'm getting to, right??? Well, that's my idea thxx!

Omg I love!!! Sorry this took long, but i hope you enjoy! Putting extra love into Shion's♡

*********************

Tenjiku members w/ innocent! Reader

*********************

Izana

○ I honestly think he wouldn't get it at first. Like, he doesn't understand why you're so off put by the way he sometimes hits the lower members or so casually threatens others. He's not around people like you a lot

○ it really sunk in the moment he accidentally made you cry after threatening you. It just slipped out, he didn't mean it. He does it to everyone!

○ after that tho, he did a full 180 on his behavior with you. He started being more careful with you, even treating those under him nicer when around you to keep you from getting uncomfortable. He might not be the best at showing it, but he cares. Last thing he wants is for you to hate him

Kakucho(my beloved)

○ Kakucho was definitely surprised by your innocent demeanor at first. But after a while, he swore to protect it

○ He keeps you away from everything involving the gang, especially those damn Haitani's. He's avoiding every known gang spot with you, steering you away from any dangerous face, and I someone even dares to make you cry...

○ He lets Izana meet you occasionally, but that's about it. Otherwise, he tries his hardest to keep you away from trouble. He knows you aren't weak, but if he has to see you uncomfortable or upset, it genuinely hurts him

Shion

○ I think he'd have fun with it at first. Trying to get you to smoke, pointing out small gang fights just to watch you tear up. It amuses him!

○ But if anyone else tries it, oh they're fucked! Oh that guy who tried to shove a cigarette past your lips? He isn't gonna bother you anymore. Why? Well he can't shove anything in your face with broken fingers♡

○ Despite his fucked up sense of humor, he's also such a sweetheart. He gets you all the cute stuff you like, giving even the smallest keychain to you with a face full of blush. Anything to see that smile

Ran

○ Just like Shion, he loves to mess with you, tho he's more cruel. He'd show off his bruised up hands after a fight and what's left on his baton, boasting about how good he did, all to mess with you

○ He won't ever take it too far tho. He likes to see you cry, but would never make you full on sob. That's just pure evil

○ He's learned his lesson with that when he took you to a large gang fight and you avoided him for days after. He had to apologize for days just to get you to text him. Never again

Rindou

○ Rindou isn't as cruel as his brother. He more so just smirks at your innocent demeanor and continues like normal. He doesn't care how scared or off-put you get when he talks about how he's broken other people's bones or how many fights he's gotten into

○ But he also doesn't deliberately bring you into fights or tries to get you into trouble. If it happens, it happens, and he'll protect you, but don't think he'll shelter you

○ He also definitely calls you a wimp and crybaby teasingly, laughing when you do as simple as pout at the thought of violence. What an asshole

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decayed-cartilage · 2 days ago

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do you currently take requests? i absolutely ADORE the way you write hannibal and may be a little (aka very) obsessed with the current intern series.. if you do requests could i request dark/yandere hannibal general headcanons :33 could be nsfw or sfw im fine with literally anything you write 🥲

A/n: thank you for suggesting 😊 I really hope I do this justice... Ive never like done this format and I think I wrote a lil too much 😮‍💨 but please let me know how you feel!! 💕 Big kisses

WARNINGS: stalking! Smut! Fingering! Taking advantage! Mentions of death! Allusion to cannibalism!

Yandere! Hannibal headcannons + mini fic(s)

Masterlist

Yandere! Hannibal who deliberately took up new hobbies—ones he knew you loved—just to have an excuse to spend more time with you.

Y/N lit up the moment she stepped into the studio, her eyes wide with happiness. It was an expression I had come to enjoy—genuine, seeing me among the rest of the potters.

"Doctor Lecter! I had no idea you enjoyed pottery as well!" she said, her voice warm, even a giggle slipping out.

I smiled, hands still dusted with clay. It was true that I had no particular passion for pottery, but I had learned. For her. And now, standing before me, she believed this was a passion of mine.

"Of course, Miss L/n," I replied easily, meeting her gaze. "I'm sure we've spoken of it before."

She hesitated, just for a second. Had we? The question flickered behind her eyes, but she dismissed it just as quickly. If I said it was so, then surely it must be.

She launched into conversation without another thought, her words flowing freely—soft, lively, unguarded. I nodded at all the right moments, smiling when she laughed, watching the way her enthusiasm bubbled over. It was an effortless thing, listening to her.

But my attention wasn’t truly on her.

It was on him.

Her boyfriend stood just behind her, arms crossed, gaze flicking disinterestedly over the room. He had no appreciation for the art, not even for the things that brought her joy. He was here out of obligation, not care. And yet, he stood at her side, playing the role he assumed was expected of him.

I watched him, my gaze steady. Unwavering. Not a glare, not an obvious threat—but something quieter. A measured, deliberate look that spoke more than words ever could.

He felt it. I could see it in the way his posture tightened, in the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. He wouldn’t meet my eyes for long.

Good.

She didn’t notice. She was still talking, still laughing, blissfully unaware of the moment unfolding between us. But I held my gaze a beat longer, just to be sure the message was understood.

Just to be sure he knew he didn’t belong.

Yandere! Hannibal, who carefully manipulated doubt into your mind, never overtly suggesting you leave your boyfriend—but making you see the cracks you’d once ignored.

Hannibal watched you unravel in real-time, your delicate fingers fidgeting with the loose thread on your sleeve, your voice quiet, hesitant. You were always hesitant when it came to him. That fool. That boy who didn’t understand what he had—what he was so carelessly throwing away.

"He left me in the middle of the store… and I was so scared," you murmured, like you were embarrassed by the admission, like it wasn’t something that should infuriate you.

But you weren’t angry. No, you were simply hurt. Still trying to justify his actions, trying to shrink your feelings into something more tolerable, something that wouldn’t make you seem like a burden.

Hannibal exhaled slowly, though the tension coiled within him like a serpent.

"He knows about your anxiety, doesn’t he?"

The way your breath hitched—so subtle, almost imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t watching for it—told him the answer before you even nodded.

Of course he knew. And yet he still did it.

How reckless. How unworthy.

Hannibal’s fingers curled slightly against the arm of his chair as he studied you, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make you question it, just long enough for the thought to begin forming in your own mind before he spoke again.

"Then he knew what he was doing."

It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. One that you needed to hear. One that you needed to accept.

You frowned slightly, your gaze lowering as if you were trying to find some hidden excuse for him among the lines in your palm.

Hannibal leaned forward just slightly, lowering his voice, making it intimate. “And when you found him… what did he say?”

You swallowed. That small, nervous movement of your throat. He wanted to reach out, to smooth his thumb over the tension there. Instead, he waited.

"He just laughed. Said I was overreacting."

Overreacting.

Hannibal nearly smiled. Not out of amusement, but out of sheer disbelief at the audacity of such a dismissive remark.

“I see,” he murmured, but there was nothing soft about it. “Tell me… if it were the other way around, if you had left him there, knowing his fears, knowing how much distress it would cause him, would you have simply laughed?”

Your reaction was immediate—head shaking, eyes widening, an instinctual no.

Of course not. Because you were kind. You were thoughtful. You cared too much, even for those who didn’t deserve it.

He tilted his head, studying you, letting you sit with the realization. “Then why does he deserve that kind of grace?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Nothing to say. No excuse to offer.

Good.

Hannibal relaxed back into his chair, watching you intently, watching the weight of his words settle into you. He didn’t need to say anything else. The idea was already there, curling around your thoughts, winding itself into your heart.

All he had to do now was wait.

Yandere! Hannibal, who held you as you cried over your breakup, but secretly was getting off on it.

She collapsed into me the moment she stepped inside, her fragile frame trembling as if the weight of her sorrow had finally become too much to bear. I caught her effortlessly, as if I had always been meant to, my arms wrapping around her without hesitation. She was so small like this, so breakable, and yet, she clung to me as though I were the only thing keeping her from falling apart entirely.

I settled her in my lap, letting her bury her face against my chest, her quiet sobs muffled against my suit. My fingers threaded through her hair, slow and deliberate, savoring the way she melted into my touch. She fit so perfectly here, as though she had always belonged in my arms.

"There, there," I murmured, my voice a soft lull, soothing, patient. "You’re safe now."

She shuddered at the word, pressing closer, gripping my jacket like a lifeline. Such a delicate thing, so desperate for comfort, for security. And she had come to me for it. Just as I knew she would.

I had warned her. Had spent countless hours listening to her, guiding her, gently nudging her toward the truth. That man had never deserved her. He had only ever caused her pain. And now, here she was, weeping in my arms, proving me right.

I tightened my hold on her, tilting my head down so my lips were close to her ear. "I told you, my dear," I whispered, my voice a quiet promise, a claim. "I would never abandon you like he did."

She didn’t pull away. Didn’t question it. She simply let herself sink deeper into me, into my warmth, into everything I had been so patiently offering her.

And God, if that wasn’t the most intoxicating thing of all. The way she nestled into me, completely unaware, her soft, warm body pressing so perfectly against mine. Every shudder, every shift, only made me grow harder—her delicate frame settling right over my bulge. She didn’t notice, too lost in her grief, too trusting, too utterly mine.

Yandere! Hannibal, who killed your ex and invited you into his home as if he did nothing.

She arrived at my door without memory of the decision to come, her body guiding her on instinct. I saw it in the way her frame sagged, the way her breath hitched unevenly, her red-rimmed eyes barely able to lift to meet mine. The moment I opened the door, her lips parted, voice ruined.

“Hannibal.”

The sight of her in distress, so utterly lost, sent a quiet thrill through me. But I said nothing at first. I merely stepped aside, allowing her entrance. She obeyed, stepping into the warmth of my home, though she looked as if she hardly felt it.

Her arms wrapped around herself as she stood just past the doorway, fragile, crumbling. "He's dead," she whispered. "They found him—my boyfriend. His head was on a fence. Just… stuck there. In the middle of nowhere."

I shut the door with a soft click, carefully hiding the satisfaction that curled in my chest.

"That's terrible," I said, smoothing my voice into something gentle, something she needed.

She let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Yeah. Terrible." Her fingers brushed at her swollen eyes, sniffling. "I just… I don’t get it. Who does that?"

I took a slow step closer, allowing my presence to steady her. “Cruelty is often senseless,” I murmured. “But you shouldn’t let this consume you.”

She shook her head, lips pressing together, fighting another wave of emotion. "How am I supposed to just… move on from this?"

"You don't have to figure that out tonight." I reached for her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder, watching as she exhaled, accepting the comfort, needing it. "You need to eat. Come, sit with me for dinner."

She hesitated. Her stomach twisted—grief stealing her appetite, no doubt. But she was exhausted, vulnerable. She needed something to ground her, and so she followed.

The meal I had prepared sat warm and inviting before us, though she barely touched it. Her fork scraped against the plate, each bite an effort. Her body was weary, her hands shaking as she set the utensil down. Her lip trembled as she pressed her fingers into her lap, trying to control her breathing, trying not to break.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, voice cracking. "I—I can't stop crying. I feel so stupid. I don’t even know why I came here." A weak, bitter laugh left her. "I just… I didn't know where else to go."

How beautifully tragic. How utterly mine.

I took my time, dabbing at the corner of my mouth before setting my napkin aside. "There is no need to apologize," I said, calm, unwavering. "Grief isn't something to push down. You are allowed to feel this, especially here. You are safe with me."

Her pretty lips trembled further, her lashes wet with fresh tears. They spilled over before she could stop them, a choked laugh escaping her as she shook her head.

“God,” she sniffled, grabbing her napkin and dabbing at her face. “You must think I’m pathetic.”

I tilted my head, gaze steady. “Not at all,” I murmured.

A fragile smile attempted to grace her lips, though it barely held. She played with the fabric of her sleeve, her fingers delicate, uncertain. Slowly, she picked up her fork again, forcing herself to eat. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I leaned forward slightly, watching her closely.

“You don’t have to find out.”

The words wove themselves into the air between us, binding her tighter to me. If she weren’t so drained, so consumed by grief, perhaps she would have questioned them. Perhaps she would have felt the weight of my claim.

But instead, she only nodded, clinging to me as her anchor, unaware that I had already secured her in place.

Yandere! Hannibal who fucked any thought you had of your ex out of your head.

Her sobs were beautiful. Each one made her smaller in my arms, pressing closer, seeking comfort, seeking me. I held her as if she were fragile, my touch gentle, patient—calculated. She was unraveling, and I had known she would.

I had known she would come to me.

And now, here she was, breaking apart, utterly lost. My sweet girl. My perfect little dove. She lifted her head, glassy, swollen eyes searching for something, anything, that might make the pain lessen. I could see the moment it happened—the way her gaze faltered on my lips, how the realization hit her.

Yes, my dear. That’s it.

I had been guiding her to this, shaping her thoughts, her fears, her dependencies. Him—that waste of a man—was gone, and she was here, right where she belonged.

When she leaned in, uncertain but desperate, I met her halfway. My lips captured hers, firm and knowing, a promise sealed in the heat between us. She gasped into my mouth, and I swallowed the sound greedily, my fingers threading through her hair to keep her there.

She thought this was a mistake. A reckless, grief-fueled lapse in judgment.

She was wrong.

As our kiss deepened, it quickly unraveled into something messier, more desperate-a frantic clash of lips and breath as she melted into me.

"So good for me, angel," I murmured against her mouth, my voice dripping with approval. My hands found her hips, firm and possessive, guiding her as I pulled her into my lap. A satisfied hum rumbled in my chest as I pressed her down against me, ensuring she felt just how much I wanted her.

As our kiss deepened, it quickly unraveled into something messier, more desperate-a frantic clash of lips and breath as she melted into me.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently as she rocked against me. A soft whimper escaped her lips, swallowed by our kiss. I could feel her trembling, begging for me.

Breaking away, I trailed heated kisses along her jaw, down her neck. Her pulse beating wildly beneath my lips. I nipped at the sensitive skin, drawing a gasp from her.

"Please," her voice barely above a whisper as Her nails scraped lightly down my back,

I growled low in my throat, my control slipping, Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with desire as she gazed up at me.

"Tell me what you want, angel," I commanded, my voice rough with need.

"Touch m-me," she pleaded breathlessly. " hurts s’bad." She slurred through whiney hiccups

I smirked, trailing my fingers teasingly along her sides. "Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Show me."

She whimpered, arching into my touch. Her hand grasped mine, guiding it lower, over the swell of her breast and down her stomach. My breath caught as she pressed my palm between her thighs, where I could feel the heat radiating through her clothes.

"Here," she whispered, her cheeks flushed. "Please-"

My hands slipped under her skirt, gently caressing her silky thighs. She shivered beneath my touch, her legs parting instinctively. I traced lazy circles on her inner thighs, inching higher with each pass.

"Is this what you need, angel?" I murmured, nipping at her earlobe.

She nodded frantically, her hips lifting off the bed, seeking more contact. "Yes, yes! please- don't stop."

I chuckled darkly, my fingers finally brushing against the damp lace of her panties. She gasped, her back arching beautifully.

"So wet for me already," I purred, applying the slightest pressure. Her hips bucked, chasing the friction. "Such a needy little girl."

I captured her lips in a searing kiss as I pushed her panties aside

My fingers found her slick folds, toying with her sensitive nub. She moaned into my mouth, her hips rocking desperately against my hand.

"Please," she whimpered between kisses. "I need more. Please, please..."

I circled her clit slowly, building the tension. Her nails dug into my shoulders as she writhed in my lap.

"What do you need, angel? Tell me," I commanded softly.

"Your fingers... inside... please," she panted, her eyes glazed with lust.

I smirked, enjoying her desperation. Slowly, torturously, I slipped one finger inside her tight heat. She cried out, her inner walls clenching around me.

All I could do was admire her beauty—the way her glassy eyes pleaded with me in silence as she clung to me, desperate and fragile in my arms.

"More," she begged shamelessly. "Please, I need more."

I added a second finger, curling them to hit that spot that made her see stars. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure coursed through her. My thumb circled her clit as I pumped my fingers in and out, building a steady rhythm.

"That's it, good- good girl," I murmured, watching her face contort in ecstasy. "Let go for me. Show me how good it feels."

Her hips rocked frantically against my hand, chasing her release. I could feel her getting close, her inner walls fluttering around my fingers.

"I'm- I'm so close," she gasped, her nails raking down my back.

I leaned down, capturing a nipple between my lips through the thin fabric of her shirt. The dual sensation pushed her over the edge. She came with a cry, her body tensing and shuddering

She panted softly as she came down from her high, her wide, doe-like eyes gazing up at me with a mix of gratitude and adoration

She was now totally under my control

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unoriginalcontent · 3 hours ago

Text

Been thinking a bit about this post; I do believe that to empathize with Trump voters, at least on an intellectual level, is important for purely pragmatic reasons. The idea there is that the right wing propaganda machine is a menace that no one knows how to deal with, and so if we can understand the concerns and anxieties of the conservative voter, we might have an opportunity to demonstrate how Trump is tangibly not addressing their problems and turn them against him. And hell, even if they did vote for him out of bigotry, maybe they'll still be willing to turn on him out of self-interest. However much it sucks, many of these people will not care if you simply point out that his policies harm other people. They've already set the human cost aside as acceptable losses, or else they outright support harming these people, which is why a different strategy is necessary for them. If we can get conservatives to turn on Trump, then even if it's not for the right and morally-correct reasons, that's still a win.

Of course that's all in reference to conservatives who were probably already predisposed towards whoever has an R next to their name on the ballot. When it comes to leftists who refuse to associate with democrats out of protest, I just don't know. I can understand that someone might want to vote out of self-interest and also believe that a Trump presidency is beneficial to them. Obviously they're likely to be wrong, but it's not hypocritical to have believed a lie and acted accordingly. Conversely, I think most leftists are people who will claim that government and voting shouldn't just be about self-interest, and that helping other people is a worthy end unto itself. And yeah, they should have known better.

If you're educated enough on the issues to have known all of Harris's shortcomings, how the hell do you not also know Trump's? If you know them both, how the hell can you conflate the two as equally bad?

We have this idea in the left that our systems are bad, and therefore we can never make progress until we destroy the systems entirely and build something new from the ashes. If you believe that, then please get your head out of the clouds because that's what Trump and Musk are trying to give us, and it turns out to be bad. We live in the system, we depend on the system, if we didn't then it wouldn't matter how many federal programs Trump is trying to abolish. Even if you specifically will be fine, you're writing everyone else off as an acceptable loss. It's not wrong to imagine and strive for a better world than this one, but unless you have viable alternatives ready and waiting, you won't get there by breaking things.

Maybe it's unfair to blame the current situation on people on the left who didn't vote for Harris. I don't even know how much blame matters at this point. And yet I think this is an important thing for all of us to keep in mind. Your moral clarity can be used against you. No matter how good and pure your ideals are, the real world has to come first. And right now that means acknowledging that a huge portion of our democracy chose Trump. And they don't care if you're hurt from his policies, or if I'm hurt, for a lot of these voters your suffering is probably just sugar on top. OP is absolutely right, they probably don't regret wishing leopards onto other people, but that doesn't mean it's not worth convincing them that we should stop the leopards before their faces are eaten. People are going to be poisoned by food which they voted to deregulate, and a part of me wants to think of that as justice. I feel angry. I feel spiteful. These people are taking human rights violations and touting them as victories, fuck them. But anger and spite won't fix anything, even from our side. And no matter how awful some of these people might be, together they're a hell of a voting block. I wish that I could force people to care about the suffering of others, but I can't. And so I hope that it's possible to at least get them to care about themselves.

And if you do think of yourself as progressive, and you still refused to vote for Harris, then I think OP is right, and you really do take a look at yourself. It is true that many of our problems are created and perpetuated by larger institutions beyond our control, but when it comes to democracy, it's not enough blame the system. You're a part of the system. If you don't want to participate, you need to have an alternative that is—crucially—viable, actionable, and realistic in the immediate short term. If you don't have that, which I guarantee you don't, then high-stakes elections are not the time for moral grandstanding.

Sorry for rambling here on your post, I'm probably a bit scattered. I've been having a lot of discussions with people about this sort of thing lately. Whatever strategy the left has for winning hearts and minds, it clearly hasn't worked if someone like that can still win the popular vote. I don't know how to fix that. But I think we all need to be a lot more comfortable ceding the moral high ground if it means making progress in the trenches.

Trump voters owe me financial compensation.

#my present thinking is change minds first and hearts later #i don't know if that's right but it strikes me as the more manageable project for our current cultural zeitgeist #maybe if we oust trump then all of the bigots who voted for him will just find the next shiny figure who'll appeal to their worst instincts #but it wouldn't be trump and that would be progress #(genuinely sorry for how rambly this probably is. it's the middle of the night and i should not be on tumblr rn.)#(i will most certainly regret all of my grammatical choices come morning)

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suzukiblu · 1 day ago

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hi, question for you, have you ever experienced prolonged writer’s block before? do you happen to have any advice for getting a writing flow going again, that you’d be willing to share?

bc i don’t want to get too heavy in your asks, but between chronic illness/fatigue and longterm autistic burnout i haven’t been able to write a single word in several years now, and GOD am i tired of it. it’s like all the stories and words are stuck inside me and i can see it all in my head but the faucet is jammed and i just can’t get it OUT! i have been slowly feeling like the creative embers are maybe starting to spark again but it’s so hard not to get impatient with myself because it never seems to actually transfer to paper (or word document or notes app). any ideas or tips?

no pressure to answer this if you don’t want to of course, regardless i really enjoy your writing and i’m so glad that i can at least engage with fandom through other authors even when i can’t write my own stories! 💛

Oh god, yeah, I DEFINITELY have experienced that, hahasob. I have gone through at LEAST a year or two without, like, putting down a single word or even drawing anything, just total creative block/not there-ness. Like I feel u on that one, bud.

Good news: now if I write less than 2k in a day I think "oh that's kinda low, huh", so like . . . definitely "didn't write jack shit for [ INSERT TIME PERIOD HERE ]" has yet to sink me, and therefore fuck if it's gonna sink ANY of us. We persevere!!

So like, in my experience actually helpful writing advice is just SO wildly "you just gotta try shit 'til something works"-based that I'mma just give you a list made up of a bunch of, like, assorted tips and tricks that I use on myself to make my brain put words down when it's being stubborn about it, though different ones work at different times and obvi YMMV here anyway because for obvious reasons these are all approaches that I have tailored to my own needs, hah, and some of them are a bit facetious and some are also a bit heavy, but absolutely and unironically I reguarly use them all and they have all repeatedly worked for me.

Also, they're all gonna be goin' behind a cut because WOW there's actually a lot more of them than I realized I had, hahaha. The psychiatrist who recently used me as a case study told me I was very self-aware, so take from that what you will, friend.

Get up and do a chore/take a shower/eat a snack/literally just walk through a friggin' doorway, more often than not it'll at least make your brain reorient enough for you to realize you were just beating your head against a wall and need to do [ INSERT DAMAGE CONTROL/HARM REDUCTION BEHAVIOR HERE ].

Track your progress. Write to-do lists and cross shit off 'em. Keep track of your word count when you write; put it in a spreadsheet or a notebook or on a graph on your bulletin board.

Get a NEW way to track your progress. I currently use, like, three different "to-do list" apps to varying degrees in varying ways, not counting just my basic calendar app ( for the record: Finch, Structured, and just a generic notes app, but mostly Finch and Structured and seriously I CANNOT recommend Finch enough, go get yourself a bird buddy immediately. do you want a friend code, I will GIVE you a friend code, I think it gives you a bonus mini-pet or something if you use it. ), and also set myself MANY a phone alarm to remind myself of things that I need to do in case I space out or get distracted by somebody/something/the specific phase of the moon.

Did you take your meds? Take your fucking MEDS, self, good LORD.

Leave the house even if for literally, like, thirty seconds to just stand in some actual natural light. Or leave the house to go eat at a cafe or library or fast food place and just put yourself in a new environment for literally any length of time whatsoever.

Switch pens. Switch notebooks. Get a NEW notebook. Use your laptop instead. Use your PHONE instead. Get a nicer notebook. Get a shittier notebook. Use the scratch paper at work. Use the Procreate app on your friggin' iPad if you gotta, whatever, you do what you want!!

Don't write!!

Seriously just don't, go watch an actual scripted TV show or movie or read a book or a comic or some fic. Feed your brain something you didn't have to make up yourself.

Come up with a convoluted way to trick yourself into being accountable to someone else. Join a writing group. Make a Tumblr post about how you're gonna go write now. Ask Tumblr for their opinion on what you should write now. Ask Tumblr to spin this random wheel spinner game you generated and tell you what answer they got, and then write THAT.

HAVE you had a snack? Did you eat breakfast? Did you eat lunch? Did you remember to move around the house at any point whatsoever during the day? Maybe like, do that. Like, at least the snack part. Maybe a stretch or something wouldn't hurt either though.

Meal prep is so fucking useful and saves you SO much annoying time and also, like, makes you eat actual veggies and fruit and shit, genuinely actually works, the gym bros were not wrong, go figure. Also then you don't have to think about what you're gonna eat all the time and then cook it and then clean up and then--yeah anyway meal prep, god bless it. Once a week I make a batch of pasta salad and roast a pan of good-when-roasted veggies with like, garlic and salt and pepper and some olive oil and add bacon after, and then I portion it all into tupperware and in the morning I add spinach or crack an egg into that day's share of veggies for breakfast and maybe make some toast, and just grab one of the pasta salads whenever I want something lunch-like. It saves SO much time and distraction when you are hurting for free time/focus. So, SO much.

Unfortunately the gym bros were also correct about exercise, if that's doable for you. Exercise does in fact make you feel better and more energized and less depressed, fuck those guys for being right about that shit. Assuming you have enough iron in your blood to actually, like, do it, which admittedly I frequently do not, but the point stands.

Dude why are you even trying to write, you're so tired, go to bed and get up early, you write SO much better in the mornings anyway.

Hey, I know that's how you USED to write, but like, is that actually how you write right now? Is that actually even what works for you anymore? Actually maybe outlines COULD be helpful or maybe you don't need all those worldbuilding notes all at once; maybe your inner architect needs to let the building decay and go back to nature or maybe your inner gardener has developed a taste for trellises, metaphorically speaking and all.

Please eat something. Also please DRINK something. Like ideally water but we'll go for anything that involves a liquid, seriously.

Hey did you know actually if you ONLY eat instant ramen and microwave pizza you'll probably get scurvy and die instead of, like, writing your magnum opus? Like probably?? Put a fucking egg in that ramen, man! Slice up a scallion in that bitch!! EAT AN ACTUAL WHOLE FRUIT or at least, like, buy a smoothie with actual fruit involved somewhere in it on occasional. The whole fruit, unfortunately, is better. I like apples. Apples take a REAL long time to rot if I forget they exist for a couple weeks or whatever. But like, mango smoothies are also the shit, can't turn down a mango smoothie or a good strawberry-banana. Hey did you know the grocery store just, like, will let you just buy one single apple and they don't give a fuck? You're free! The cashier won't remember you in five minutes!! Buy your one single apple and work your way up to maybe two apples next time!! Also now I want an apple!!!!

Don't write. Don't write THAT. Write the other thing. No, the OTHER other thing. No, not THAT other other thing.

The rules are made up and the points don't matter.

Fuck it, we ball.

[ INSERT FULL-THROTTLE STIMMING BEHAVIOR HERE ]

Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic.

God, that's the weirdest fucking idea you've ever had, literally NO ONE but you would read it. So you should write 180k of it and also make it even weirder and yes it will absolutely be the one fic that just about everyone in MCU fandom who knows you exist knows you for, don't even worry about it, this isn't based on a true story at all.

Actually you could probably storyboard this scene to figure out wtf is happening here. Or like just draw literally anything related to this story, a bit of that might work some kinks out of the whole process.

Did you get that snack yet?

Hey go pet your dog, she's very soft and wants attention and also her OWN snack. Pet your dog and eat an apple and idk watch some anime or a weird niche documentary or an even more niche reality show, have you seen Deep-Fried Dynasty yet, it's on Hulu and was surprisingly engrossing.

Why are you even following the rules, we've been over this, they are made up and the points do NOT matter, and also you're not even getting graded for this anyway.

Yeah okay that thing you wrote sucked, but it turns out that Dean Koontz somehow has a writing career and also Twilight happened to all of us, so actually even the suckiest thing you ever write is gonna be better than the perfect ideal of the scene in your head, because the suckiest thing you ever write is something OTHER people can READ. And again: Dean Koontz has a career. Colleen HOOVER has a career. And fucking good for them, they're killing it, they are fucking WRITING!! Who gives a damn anyway, fix it in editing if you're that worried about it, they call it a rough draft for a reason.

Hey if that thing doesn't work you can just, like, delete it. Or rewrite it. Or stick it in your back pocket and do something else for a while. The sunk-cost fallacy is bullshit and you don't have to listen to it.

Maybe drink some more caffeine, that'll calm you down. [ DISCLAIMER: THIS PIECE OF ADVICE TAILORED TO A PERSON WITH MORE ADHD THAN LITERALLY NINETY-FIVE PERCENT OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH ADHD; THAT PERCENTAGE IS ON THE ACTUAL LEGITIMATE DIAGNOSTIC PAPERWORK ]

Seriously you can just write anything you want, nobody can stop you. Only God can judge me and I'm still technically agnostic enough that that's like, thirty-seventy odds at BEST.

God that idea is so niche and weird and niche, better tone it the fuck down to--oh wait no mass appeal means you're writing popcorn and literally no one will remember it in five minutes anyway, stop reflexively censoring yourself for some imaginary audience that will just chew straight through your one-size-fits-all story for The Content(tm) and then immediately move onto the next one without even bothering to hit "kudos" or remember anything about it later. I have written shit so weird that people still remember how weird I was TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER, man, and that is why literally anyone will EVER remember that you exist or wanna read your stuff or follow you to a new fandom where they don't even know the source material, fuck it, they'll wiki some shit. And also who cares anyway, it's YOUR stuff and YOU wanna read it. Your agnostically-possible god did not make you this weird and niche for no reason, don't pussy out now!!

Actually you can just write in the bath/on the bus/while waiting for your roommate to finish up with the guy running this estate sale. You've got your phone, right? Fuck it, pack a notebook. Pack an extra notebook. Pack a smaller notebook. Pack a BIGGER notebook.

It's not stupid if it works. You don't have to do what literally ANYONE else is doing, you just have to do what works.

You can literally just skip to the good part and write that, actually. Nobody's gonna throw you in writer-jail. What are we, cops?? Actually do you even need this lead-up here or do you just need to write this one specific blorbo gettin' laid REAL enthusiastically kinkily and/or maybe having a nervous breakdown sobfest over their perception of their personal self-worth and everything else is kinda just window dressing??

I mentioned the snack thing, right? Also sugar rushes are fake but sugar CRASHES are real so maybe be a little careful on that one, maybe buy some trail mix/jerky/smoked salmon, smoked salmon is SO good, smoked salmon is just objectively delicious.

Go talk somebody's ear off about what you're trying to write about. Bonus points if you can find somebody who matches your freak enough that you write, uhhhhh /checks smudged writing on wrist/ a 60k Overwatch fic in two weeks and also like 280k of Witcher fic in less than a year specifically because they're just a real good cheerleader. Wow. Wow that was a lot more Witcher fic than I was aware I had written. THE POINT IS LOOK FOR A WRITING BUDDY, WRITING BUDDIES ARE THE SHIT.

If the writing buddy doesn't work out though the first time I won NaNoWriMo I did it directly out of spite because someone said they didn't think I actually would. So like, spite is always an option, you can always keep that one on tap if you gotta.

Stephen King did not write "On Writing" because he didn't want you to write. Francesca Lia Block did not introduce you to the weirdest and gayest shit teenage!you had ever read so you'd grow up and be a fucking NORMIE about this shit. SIR TERRY PRATCHETT DID NOT WRITE LIKE SIXTEEN OF YOUR FAVORITE BOOKS OF ALL TIME BECAUSE HE DID NOT WANT YOU TO WRITE WHAT YOU WERE ACTUALLY FRICKIN' INTO.

Clean your room. No, better than that. Okay fuck it just set a ten-minute timer and do what you can in that time, we work with the spoons we've got.

Random number generator. Random color generator. Random "hey followers here's a very oblique poll, don't even worry about what it's about, just click a button please and thank you".

Did you know the internet will just GIVE you free graphs/trackers/bullet journal page designs and you can just print 'em out and do whatever the heck you want with 'em?? Yes my new little "color in the squares every day you do the thing" tracker IS just six daily writing tasks and two daily "just go pick some stuff up in this specific room" tasks and that is MY BUSINESS, MS. SIR AND MR. MADAM AND MX. [ INSERT BUZZER SOUND ]. And also, like, has done much better at getting me to do chores than anything else has in a minute, go fig.

You can actually just do whatever you want forever.

Literally, like just forever.

Fuck, how many times HAVE you done this? You'll never get better for good, it'll always go bad again, you'll always get sick again, you'll always get SAD again, you'll always fucking forget how to even DO this again and have to start all over.

Well yes, obviously, because you'll always have done it again. So do it again. One more time.

( seriously though did you take your meds-- )

#anonymous #rinquiry

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asdfghjklartblog · 2 days ago

Text

Confessions of a Rotten Girl

Trans masc reader x yandere batfam

Part 1, Part 2 (here)

TW: Neglect and slight gore

So I finished this A LOT faster than I anticipated. But I was kinda obsessed with writing more so I just kept writing. Anyways have fun! Happy reading! It’s around 6.2k words so sit back and relax! Also Luke is probably ooc but like, I will definitely try to do better about that in the future.

Living here is… Rough to say the least. Not long after being introduced and dumped onto Bruce’s lap, you were put into a preschool. So not only were you in an unfamiliar home, but you were also going through new experiences, while trying to accept that your Daddy was gone.

On top of that you and Dick don’t really get along, and you’re not sure if the two of you ever will. If the two of you aren’t fighting you two are outright avoiding each other. But you were able to piece together enough information to find out why he was so angry all the time! He also lost his parents. So, you tried to bond with him over that. However this was a terrible idea, but you were also 5, and you just wanted to bond with the stupid boy. It isn’t much of a surprise that the two of you ended up on the floor pulling at each other’s hair and hitting anywhere the two of you could reach. The two of you were just duking it out for less than a minute before Alfred catches you two and scolds you with all his might. After that the two of you avoided each other like the plague, only interacting with each other when necessary, like during galas.

Bruce wasn’t much better, he was cold to you. He never talked to you and would only interact with you during social events like galas. It hurts to see that your father didn’t want anything to do with you but it would be fine. At least that’s what you tell yourself.

What hurt the most however was seeing the two of them happy. You had heard from Alfred that initially Bruce and Dick didn’t have a good relationship either and kept getting on each other’s nerves. Bruce’s seriousness and Dick’s sassiness didn’t really go together. At least not at first, but you guess that eventually Dick grew on him, and now you see Dick smiling and talking about all the things he accomplished and the latest drama at school, while Bruce listened fondly. You sigh wishing you also had someone that cared about you just as much as Bruce cares about Dick. You wish you could bring back the person that did do that.

At least in preschool you had someone that cared about you, his name was Eric and he had fluffy brown hair and green eyes with freckles dusting his skin. He was your best friend, he invited you to sleep overs, showed you his collection of dinosaurs, shared the treats that his mom packed. You two were partners in crime. So it was heart breaking when he just stopped talking to you when you guys went into first grade. But you made more friends, at least you think they’re friends? They’re kinda mean, but they spend time with you and laugh with you when you make mistakes. But they never invite you to their birthday parties and always say such mean things.

You mention this to Luke one day when he comes to visit and he is immediately pissed. He then looks at you and says. “Here’s what you’re gonna do, next time they’re making you feel bad? Bite them, lick their hand, say something hurtful, whatever. What’s important is that you gotta fight back y/n. Only pussies take it lying down.”

You look up at him and ask. “What’s ‘pussies’?”

He cringes when he realises his mistake. “Don’t worry about it y/n. Just do what I say.”

You did as he said. The next time one of your friends was being mean, you yelled at them. “Only pussies take it lying down!”

Which made some of the older kids at the playground gasp as the girl that was being mean to you yells. “What does that even mean?!” And although neither of you knew what it means, you both new is was some kind of insult.

She then pounces on you like a cat, trying to scratch and hit you. The two of you tussle in the playground, and the teachers that were lazily talking were now rushing toward you and the girl. It takes about 5 adults to try and pry the two of you apart, and in the crossfire the teachers were also scratched and bitten.

It’s not a surprise that Bruce and the girl’s parents are called right after. You and Bruce sit next to each other as the two of you wait outside the office. After minutes of just silence he sighs and looks at you, disappointed. “Why did you do this, and who said violence was the right answer?”

You look at him, annoyed and confused as to why you’re the one in trouble. “Well, she was the one who jumped onto me like some evil cat.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at you and says. “It doesn’t matter who did it. You can’t just fight someone like that, you have to talk through-”

You look at him as if he’s insane and reply. “She came after ME! What was I supposed to do? I could’ve been a lot more hurt like that! I had to fight back!”

Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath before saying. “Yeah? Was it also ‘fighting back’ when you tried to push her down the stairs?”

You gasp at what Bruce is implying and replies. “She is such a liar! I did not push her that was her own fat feet’s fault! She started it!”

Bruce stands up suddenly and rubs his temples before saying. “Y/n. You will apologise to her and you will mean it. Do you understand me?”

You try to argue saying that it really wasn’t- okay some of it was your fault but not all of it! “But I’m not lying she really did-“

Bruce then crosses his arms and stares you down before saying. “I said, do you understand me y/n.”

You then look down to your feet and nod, tears welling up in your eyes. When the girl’s parents come out with a disgruntled look on their faces. They try to scold you for being so rough with their ‘precious’ Amelie who had a smug look on her face. However you’re not really listening as your mind drifts off, imagining how you could tear her apart. Bruce then makes a coughing noise as a reminder to pay attention and nudges you forward. You sigh and look at Amelie who still has that smug smile on her face before Bruce says to you. “Go on. Apologise.”

You look at her straight in the eye before saying. “I’m sorry… That you’re so DUMB! You should go-“

Bruce clasps a hand over your mouth and smiles at the parents as he says. “She’s usually not like this.” He then whispers Into your ear. “If you don’t apologise, you WILL be grounded with no screen time.”

You send a glare his way before looking back to the girl. However as you look her you’re your face turns into one of shock as the girl, which you now know as Amelie, which is a STUPID name by the way. She isn’t even French, she’s just regularly stuck up. Anyways she starts crying crocodile tears as she says. “Why are you so mean? I just wanted to get to know you… I’m sorry.”

You don’t care at this point. Not about the situation, you still care about that. But you don’t care what Bruce will think or would do. No matter what, this girl is going down. You bite Bruce’s hand hard and he hisses in pain while he recoils. You then charge at Amelie and punch her in the face, her parents and Bruce look on in complete shock. She falls on her butt, and she looks at you surprised that you had the nerve to actually do that. Her nose then starts to bleed as real tears start to spill from her eyes.

Needless to say, both Bruce and Alfred were incredibly pissed. But you were proud of yourself, and that’s all that mattered. Well, it also helped that Luke was also very proud of you, in fact, he was so proud that he took you out for a day at the arcade! Under the false pretence that he would take you to the library to study. Bruce and Alfred had absolutely no idea. You had so much fun that day, you played all kinds of games with him and then he took you to Batburger!

He then took you back home but you wanted to spend more time with him, so you begged him to tuck you in and read you a bed time story. He then looks at you confused and asks. “Does Bruce or Alfred not tuck you in?” When you reply with a confused little no, he looks at you with both frustration and sadness. He then picks you up and says with a small smile. “I’ll read you anything and everything you want, I’ll stay with you until your asleep. I’ll make you that hot chocolate that my mom makes o-or some hot milk. Whatever you want.” You break into a wide smile and hug him back tightly as you start to talk about whatever comes to mind. But you notice that there’s a glint of sadness that he’s trying to hide as he does everything he promised he would do. You don’t understand why, but you can tell by the way he tucks you in and reads you stories that he cares for you. And that makes you a little less scared.

After that day, no one in school messed with you. Which you were happy about but… You were still alone. You were still lonely. Your dad probably thinks you’re annoying. Just like Dick. You really wonder what’s going on in their heads, Dick acts like he’s like the nicest person in the whole world. So chipper and everything, it’s super annoying. It’s even more annoying that whenever you try to talk to him, even if you’re just trying to ask him to get you the ice cream in the freezer cause you can’t reach, he acts like you’re asking him to turn back time and watch his parents die. Bruce you just don’t understand, he’s rude and gruff with you. But sometimes you catch him staring. You’re not sure why but every time you do, you see both annoyance and some kind of deeper emotion that you aren’t sure about.

You sigh as you lie down on your bed snuggling into the fluffy duvet and nuzzle the pillow. Earlier you had a fight with Alfred about your grades, they were getting worse. You’re not sure why but you feel tired almost all the time and you can’t bring yourself to care about anything, even if it’s something you like. It’s been really stressful and you don’t know what to do. Alfred’s always busy so he can’t help you, Luke is also pretty busy but he does his best to make time for you but he’s also got his own life, and you don’t wanna take him away from that. And no one would tutor you because rumours spread that you were some vile little beast. Probably because of Amelie and her parents.

You tear up and hold Ollie close to your chest. You whisper to it. “You won’t leave me right? You won’t ignore or hate me right?” It says nothing. Most likely because it is a plushie. You raise its wing and pat your head with it. Pretending that you’re still with Daddy, that it was one of those weekend nights, and you were watching a movie together. He would be petting your head as you laid your head on his lap. You’d do anything to have that again.

That night you have a dream. A strange one. Unlike any dream you’ve had before. You wake up on a beach, with the moon, full and high above the sea. Everything felt so real, the cool waters the wet sand sticking to your feet. You turn to look behind you to see a cave carved into the cliffside. You watch as a giant owl emerge, then it starts charging at you. You hurriedly try to wade through the water but it feels… wrong. Before you could figure out why you’re being pulled to the depths of the ocean as you try to scream and shake off the thing that’s dragging you down.

You wake up in the middle of the night panicked and heaving, you run to your private bathroom and collapse by the edge of the tub. Coughing up water, tears spring from your eyes, as you almost cough up a pint or more of water. When you finish you cling to the side of the tub sobbing as you do so. To make things worse, you see that you’re bleeding, you pull down your shirt to see three dots in the form of a small triangle in the middle of your chest. The circles are perfect and it looks like you were stabbed with something as thick as a pencil. Honestly, you’re so tired and sleepy that you can’t bring yourself to care right now.

You go downstairs as you note the time, 3 AM. You go to the kitchen and you are faced with Batman making something on the stove and Robin bouncing on his heels. You stand there, silently for at least a minute before you just go back to bed. Your original plan of going to the kitchen to sneaking some milk and cookies for you, abandoned just like that. You’re obviously seeing things and it would be better to just go to sleep. So without changing your bloody shirt or getting any comfort whatsoever you lie there until daylight comes.

That day you were exhausted, you were practically falling asleep in class and the wounds on your chest kept bleeding for some reason so you haphazardly taped paper towels to your chest. You didn’t know who to talk to, whether it was okay to talk to someone. So when you finally got home from school, you asked Alfred if you could call Luke. But he said that he didn’t know Luke’s phone number but he did have Lucius’s and that he’d ask. “Who the hell is Lucius.” You ask, confused as to why he’s bringing in a whole new person you don’t know into the fringe. He chuckles as he says. “Lucius is Luke’s Father. You met him the first day you came here.”

You think for a moment before you start to remember him. “Oh, the nice black man?”

Alfred nods and then goes to the home phone in the living room and calls Lucius. He then passes you the phone and goes back to work. You panic, the last time you handled a phone call was when your father died. When Lucius picks up you yelp and before he can say anything you hang up. You then stay there panicked waiting for something to happen. You yelp again when it rings. Your hands shake and you start to get sweaty, you take deep breaths and do your best to calm yourself down before picking up the phone again. Before you can speak you hear Luke saying. “Hello, my father can’t come to the phone right now, he’s currently in a meeting. If you’d like you could call again later or I could tell him to call you ba-“

You interrupt and nervously say. “Hi Luke. Um. Can I-“

He interrupts you too in his excitement and says. “Oh, hey y/n! How’s my favourite Wayne doing? You alright? I just came back from university, it’s a lot of work but it’s fun, I guess. Uh, I can swing by and pick you up? We could go get some Batburger or something? Or you can come to my place and I can show you some more boxing-“

You start to tear up, you can feel how much he cares about you which makes you tear up a bit. You sniffle and he immediately quiets, you hear some rustling on the other end before he asks. “Hey, you okay? I’m sorry, I got too excited. Do you want me to come over?”

You nod as you whisper out a watery. “Yes please. C-Could you also bring me a (favourite hot drink) and a warm cookie from that café you took me to?”

You hear Luke pause before he chuckles and says. “You mean the Sleepy Time café? Sure kid. I’ll be over in 30. See you soon.”

After that the two of you hang up. You eagerly wait for him in the foyer, like a puppy waiting for its owner. You were a bit nervous, he’s been away at college for a while and you were worried he wouldn’t like you anymore because he made new and better friends. But Luke would never do that. You desperately hope he wouldn’t. When there’s finally a knock at the door, you rush to open it. When you do, you see that Luke has a large bag with the Batburger logo and a small bag with the Sleepy Time café logo and a big smile on his face. “Thought you might need an extra pick me up! Come on, lets go to the other side of the manor so Alfred can’t find us.”

You laugh and help him with the bag with the café stuff in it. You two go to the other side of the manor that’s less lived in. You guys find a living room like area with a big flatscreen TV like the one in the actually living room, although it is a bit smaller. He pulls out some DVDs from the inside of his jacket and puts the into the DVD player. While the movie plays you two eat and talk, until you finally bring up your dream. He looks at you horrified and asks. “What the fuck? That sounds horrifying.”

Which makes you feel both comforted and also scared because what do you mean, is this not normal? He pauses the movie and then says. “So let me get this straight, you woke up, started throwing up sea water and found three stab wounds-“

You then try to say. “But I don’t know if they are-“

He interrupts you saying. “I’m not done. I- Do you know how insane that is?”

You shrink back into yourself when he says that and get teary eyed. He realises what he said and how it probably sounded to you. “I’m sorry y/n I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that this is crazy and I can’t believe that you didn’t tell anybody. You should’ve said something to me sooner! Not waited a whole day.”

You nod and then say lowly. “I didn’t know who to tell.”

He looks at you sadly and and sighs as he puts his face in his hands. He then moves his hand to comb through his dreads. He then gently asks you. “Could you pull down your shirt for me y/n? So I can see?”

You nod hesitantly and take a deep breath before you do as he asks. You pull it down and take off the makeshift bandage that was almost soaked in red. But it’s gone, already scarred over despite it having been bleeding not too long ago. Panic rushes into your veins and you try to explain yourself but Luke interrupts you saying. “Y/n. You don’t have to explain, I trust you. Plus it’s kinda hard not to when you have a blood soaked bandage and three scars on your chest right where you said there would be. That’s insane though, it’s like straight out of a horror movie.”

You smile as he continues to talk, assuring you that he believes you as the pets your head and holds you tight. You bury your face into his shoulder, happy that there’s someone here that’s in your corner. That night before he tucks you in he writes his phone number on a post it note and writes in big letters, “Luke’s phone # call if you need ANYTHING and I mean it!” which makes you smile sleepily. It makes you feel safe and comforted.

And Luke did his best to keep his promise, he sometimes misses some calls but immediately calls the next chance he gets. As you turn 10 you notice some changes in your body. You don’t like it. It makes you look more… girly. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it just. It doesn’t feel right. When you look in the mirror you start to notice your body also turning more feminine. It’s not that you don’t like it’s just… It doesn’t feel right? You dismiss those thoughts however as you keep going to school.

You still don’t have any friends but Dick brings his friends over all the time. You sometimes watch them fool around, some redhead named Wally West, Roy Harper, Kaldur. Wally is the only one that’s the same age as Dick, Roy is barely two years older than you and Kaldur is older than Dick by two years. You’re fine with them, they look cool. One day you try to sneak into the kitchen without bothering them, wanting a snack. While you’re rummaging through the pantry you hear someone ask. “Who the hell are you?”

You turn around to see Roy looking at you with a raised eyebrow and his arms folded across his chest. You can see that he’s trying to look tough. He is failing. You turn away from him and grumble. “None of your business. Leave me.”

He does the opposite of what you say and gets closer as he asks. “Whatcha trying to get pipsqueak?”

You look at him, annoyed and say. “You fat butt, that’s what I’m looking for.”

Roy looks at you offended and says. “My butt is NOT fat! Take it back!”

You stick your tongue out at him and turn back to the pantry only to realise you forgot what you wanted. Then you turn back to Roy and growl. “Nice going numb nuts! Now I forgot what I wanted! I really wanted it too!”

Roy rolls his eyes and then says. “Well if you forgot what you wanted then maybe you didn’t want it that bad.”

Frustrated, you get teary eyed which makes Roy’s eyes widen. He sighs and goes over to the pantry and asks. “Did you want cookies?”

A bit confused, you brush your tears away before wetly asking. “What?”

He groans and asks again. “Was it cookies you wanted? Popcorn? Chips? Chocolate?”

You think about it a bit before asking for the peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies. He looks at you like you’re insane before getting those things. You grab a spoon and put it on the island before climbing onto the stool. You scoop out some peanut butter and realise you have mo plate. You look at Roy pleadingly and ask. “Can you get me a plate please?”

He blushes for some reason and grumbles and walks to one of the base cabinets and opens it to just see pots and pans stacked up neatly. He then shyly asks. “Uh, do you know where plates are?”

You smile and let out a little giggle before saying. “You’re close. It’s right above.”

He nods robotically and looks to see if there’s a ladder, he grabs it and uses it to get a plate for you. You plop the peanut butter onto the plate and give it back to Roy and ask. “Could you please put it in the microwave? Pretty please?”

His face reddens further and he puts it in the microwave for a minute. He then grabs it but winces when he feels how hot it is. He then grabs an oven mitt, puts it on and brings the plate over. He then sits next to you and just stares at you. You look away slightly uncomfortable then dip your cookie into the melted peanut butter. You huff and puff at how hot it is, but it still tastes amazing. Roy then steals a cookie and does the same thing as you. He also huffs and puffs at how hot the peanut butter is. You laugh at that and continue to eat the cookies like that together and in silence. When you’re finished you give him a hug and whisper a thank you before jumping off the stool and going back to your room happily. Not noticing that Roy’s face was beet red and he stared at you as you left.

A few weeks later you saw that everyone in your school had a phone. You also wanted one, so after some pleading with Alfred who then relayed said pleas to Bruce, bought you a new WayneTech phone. You searched up all kinds of things, you’d look at pictures of your favourite characters all day. However you keep running into pictures one character kissing another character. But that’s not right they should be in love with the one you think is best. It just fits the story better and their personalities won’t clash! And that is how you ended up in a rabbit hole of lemon fanfics and fan art. This was all so cool! Online, you could be someone else! And people were into the same stuff you were into, and you found more things that peaked your interests, like manga and anime! You were into so many fandoms and the dopamine rush you get from seeing art of your fave character, or better yet, your fave ship was amazing! You loved this!

It didn’t take you long to get on Wattpad, Tumblr, Devianart as well as getting a Waynebook account. Which none of your family members know about because why the hell would they. And you obviously had to pretend to be a boy, I mean you wouldn’t want random people to know that you’re a girl and it’d be harder to find you in case anyone did try to find you. But while you were scrolling through Waynebook one day you saw that one of your favourite artists had an ‘NSFW’ account. You don’t know what that means so you clicked it and Oh. Oh wow. After that day you got into both yaoi and yuri. And you started following A LOT of NSFW accounts and got into some more ‘adult’ fanfics and doujinshis.

It really felt like the world was your playground after that, and after you found there was both official and fan merchandise? You said goodbye to your allowance because you needed that dakimura of your fave being submissive and breedable. You had pins all over your backpack and cute little key chains that your fave artists made of your babies. However on one of the days that Alfred took both Dick and you to school, Dick saw your backpack. He asks. “What’s that?”

You brighten up and start to explain, but you don’t even 5 seconds before he says. “That’s so weird. And you put that on your backpack? You want everyone to know you’re some kinda weirdo? Bruce would probably disgusted.”

Your smile goes away and you go quiet as Dick turns to look through the window. You mumble under your breath. “It’s not weird.”

Alfred scolds Dick for saying something like that, but you can tell that Alfred also thinks it’s not normal. Your eyes start to sting as you start to undo the pins and decorations on your backpack. You wish he never asked, you wish he didn’t get your hopes up. No one in this manor understands you. And then comes the question, would Daddy still love you like this? You start to cry quietly trying your best to stifle your sniffles but Dick notices. He rolls his eyes before mumbling an apology you know he doesn’t mean. You don’t say anything back.

You wish that was the worst thing about that day but no. In the middle of a test your seat starts to feel wet you look down to check and see that you’re bleeding. You get scared and ask the teacher if she could come to you. She doesn’t even look up when she says. “You have legs don’t you? Come and walk over here if you have something you need to say.”

You look down nervously and tell her. “Could you please come here instead? I don’t feel comfortable walking over there.”

She stares you down and sighs as she gets up to go close to you. She asks you. “Are you having trouble with a question?”

You shake your head and tell her you’re bleeding from your crotch. Her eye widen at that but her brows furrow when she says. “Don’t lie to me, you’re too young to be having a period. Just finish your test.”

You look at her, panicked and say. “I’m not! Miss can you just please help me?”

She sighs and as she combs through her hair she then says. “Fine. Get up then. Show me.”

You look up her horrified, you look around and see that some of the kids are looking over curious as to what’s happening. You look up at her pleadingly and ask. “Do I have to?”

She nods and then you sigh and get up, Eric, your former best friend and now class clown says. “Ewww, that’s so gross! She peed blood!”

Your face flushes with embarrassment as the teacher then realises her mistake she then ushers you to the bathroom and grabs a pad for you. She tells you how to use it and while you do that, she calls Alfred to pick you up but the damage is done. Alfred probably picks you up and helps you through it but after that day the kids at school start to call you bloody mary.

You start hiding your true self after that. You told Luke about both things and although he didn’t quite understand the fujoshi part, he was still supportive. So you continued the next few years. While Dick blossomed into a social butterfly and healed from his trauma, you enclose on yourself. Only blossoming during the night, when you were free to be yourself. When you were free to be as weird as you wanted to be. Your body keeps growing, but not in the way you want it to. You start to get self-conscious, hating the way your body looks and feels. So you start wearing oversized hoodies and baggy pants. You look at Dick and his friends and see their bodies. You wish you looked like that.

At some point at around 13 years old, you made a friend online. A girl named Robin she’s about 5 yeas older than you and really smart. She helps with your homework a lot and you’re thankful for her. When you tell her your feelings about your body growing she then asks. “Would you rather be a boy?”

You chuckle and say. “I mean, yeah. Boys have it easier. They don’t have to worry about their bodies. And they don’t have to worry about periods. They don’t have boobs either, so that’s cool. There’s also the pay gap-“

Robin interrupts. “Are you saying that to justify that? Or do you mean it?”

You pause, and think about it for a moment. You then say. “I don’t know. Like I look at Dick and his friends and I think, ‘Wow! I wish I had their clothing and musculature and I wish I could also be manly’ but like it’s not like I fantasise about it.”

Robin chuckles as she then says. “Mmm. So those times you wished you were a man and told me that if you were a man you’d want to be a ‘bara dilf’ didn’t happen? Or how you said that you wished you looked like (insert chara with your ideal body type)?”

You blush and think about her words and say. “Well it’s not like I can change anything-“

She interrupts you again as she says. “Yeah you can. You can get HRT and get that body and voice you want.”

You reply with. “What.”

She then explains the LGBTQ+ going through each letter calmly and letting you ask questions. It makes you pause and think about what you want and if this is you. And whether you might want to change your body. You mull it over for over a month when suddenly you have that weird dream again.

You’re on the shore, everything around you is serene and beautiful the sun setting. You turn around and there’s the cave that’s int the cliff side. You go towards it this time and as you get closer you can hear breathing. When you’re right in front of the cave you see the owl staring at you. It looks straight into your eyes and opens it mouth to let out some kind of recording. You hear a blood curdling scream, and garbled noises, implying someone is drowning or choking on their own blood as the ominous chanting in the background grows louder and louder overtaking the screams eventually. It then closes its mouth but voices don’t stop. Instead it feels like the sound is multiplying, like there’s more people that’s either screaming or chanting. It starts to hurt, and the pain gradually increases too. Until suddenly it all stops. You start heaving, not noticing that you were barely breathing the entire time. You fall to your knees as you shudder and hug yourself. You look up and the owl says in Bruce’s voice. “Behind you.” You slowly turn around to see the giant owl from last time. This time you get to see how big it actually is. It’s as big as a medium sized two story house. It then pecks at you, tearing through your flesh like a hot knife through butter. Tearing out your entrails at it keeps you down with its talons.

You wake up with a scream, you still feel the pain. And it takes more than a few moments to realise that you’re alive. And that it was just a dream.

After that you were so preoccupied with the dream and school that you completely put the thought of HRT and surgery out of your mind. Instead you start showing your art online, making fanfics and buying doujinshis, trying to keep your mind off these reoccurring dreams and the fact that your family doesn’t love you. 2 years pass like this, Bruce and Dick’s relationship has been rougher these days. You watch but don’t butt in, it’s none of your business anyways. But then Dick moves out and you can tell Bruce is depressed about it. You don’t know what to say or do but you start to leave tea or coffee for him in his office, so he won’t feel as lonely.

But that looks like it won’t be necessary, because instead of saying thank you and just be a normal man. He gets another child from the street, he tells you to be nice to him, to be kind. As if you didn’t know the harshness of the city. You’d argue about it but you had no energy for that. That’s when you meet Jason, your little brother.

He looked skinny, the child like look that was supposed to be in his eyes are not there, replaced with a wariness that you can recognise was developed over time. His clothes were too big for him, almost swallowing him up. You could tell he was uncomfortable and Dick isn’t here anymore. And even if he was, he’s been real prickly since his argument with Bruce. You sigh and wonder, is that what you looked like? It’s obvious that he’s older than when you came to the manor but because of the malnourishment he looks as if he’s nine.

You didn’t interact much in the beginning, at least not until the next week when a thunder came along. You were staying up doing some commissions when your door opens, you blink at the light flooding your room wincing as it makes your tired eyes sting. When you can see properly you can see Jason just standing there, blanket in hand. Before you can say anything he barges into your room and gets into your bed. You look at him confused and flabbergasted before you save your progress and turn off your computer and drawing tablet. You go to the bathroom to change into your pjs before standing right by the aide of the bed. You see that he’s shaking. You look at him sympathetically as you remember when your Daddy used to do that. You sigh as you get in bed and curl around him, you wrap your arms around his waist. The two of you fall asleep like that, while you hoped you could be be of good use to him. However when you wake up he isn’t there, you clench your fist as you lay there. Tired, and lonely again.

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Hello! Hope you liked it! If any of the charas are too ooc please tell me! I would like to be kinda accurate in some way.

Edit: For those who saw what the title was before, no you didn’t.

Taglist:

@simpingpandas

#mine arth #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #neglected reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #luke fox #lucius fox #yandere batman #platonic #that last scene is NOT ship #do not tag as ship #tw neglect #tw slight gore

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weirdmarioenemies · 2 days ago

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Name: Grubchucker

Debut: Pikmin 4

Over here we have a supremely silly guy! What if a crab was tall? This is what if a crab was tall! So tall it doesn't even fit into the frame! Grubchucker could be wearing the coolest shoes of all time and we would have no idea...

What a silly name Grubchucker is. Watch out, grubs! You're gonna get chucked!... is what I would say if it actually chucked grubs. Its name actually refers to "grub" as in food, which I don't like nearly as much. I don't know! I've just never much liked when there are so many words that mean the same thing. It's good for spicing up writing, but in real life, it's like, how do you decide which synonym to say in a given situation, you know? Sorry for criticizing your name, Grubchucker!

Ok that's enough of showing it in that one specific pose from that one angle. Grubcharleser over here has some dynamic moves, as it snatches up its prey! And finally, it Chucks. It Chucks its prize up into its wackywacky mouth! That's it, there on the top of its head! You can tell Grubchucker is not embarrassed of its headmouth, since it does not wear a hat over it. That isn't its ONLY mouth, as it does have small mouthparts where you would expect it to, but as Grubchuckers grow, their upper mouth opens, allowing them to eat far more at a time! Here, we can also see it is not wearing any shoes, but that doesn't mean some cool shoes were offscreen in the previous images...!

I know you're thinking it. Those big, fleshy lips. So. Would you kiss Grubchucker, on the lips? I would not, and I would not recommend it. That is an animal that has been dwelling in the mud, the muck, and even the sludge. Not sterile! Sorry!

"You hear about grub?"

Grubchucker is obviously crab-based, and has a wonderfully crabby face, but the shape of the eyestalks as well as the feelers beneath them bring robber flies to mind, for me! In particular, my favorite robber fly, the gnat-ogre, thanks to how bulging that fly's eyes are. Now I'm wondering, though. What are those feelers even for? You're not going to be feeling anything so far off the ground, except for the wind. Hey, Grubchucker! How's the weather up there? Ha ha ha ha ha (Grubchucker is probably like a foot tall)

The only downside to Grubchucker is how it's used in game... it only appears at the end, and by that time, you are more than capable of defeating it with ease. It even takes a while to chew Pikmin, so they can easily be saved! And for whatever reason, Pikmin 4 does not have creatures respawn, so it's not coming back after you beat it! So much love and care was put into this wonderful creature, and it deserves more prominence! At least it will get that once it's added as a fighter to Super Smash Bros. 6!

#grubchucker #pikmin 4 #pikmin #pikmin enemies #not mario #funky friday #mod chikako

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bitch-i-migth-be · 6 hours ago

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I love your brain, please have a biscuit.

I kept thinking about the og baby a lot while I was writing that. Poor thing, just made up so he can die for the sake of the plot.

Also imposter syndrome.

In this case, for example, it would be interesting to see that even if Tim can relate to Kon- it’s not actually the same, because while Kon was made to replace Superman he never actually had to do it, he got to be his own person.

Tim doesn’t get that here.

He did replace someone. Even if that wasn’t the objective of his creation. He is actively living under the name of a dead boy (which later gets even worse after Jason dies and the whole Replacement Robin situation happens), . he didn’t get to be named by people that loves him or even choose one himself.

If anything the scientists who made him gave him some serial number and called it a day, because you know that cloning Danny isn’t easy, it got to have taken many many tries. Tim would be lucky if he doesn’t have it tattooed somewhere in his body like cattle, the GIW was interested in his biology not his aesthetics.

He didn’t have any other option or resources when the Drakes ‘took him in’, and by the time he could have actually done something about it he was already far too deep in his life as Tim Drake. Far too deep in the vigilante life, far too deep in a family and friends

Before becoming Robin, Tim didn’t think he would get that. He thought he would have to bide his time, be the Perfect Little Son he was purchased to be until he actually had a shot at disappearing with the minimum risk of being dragged back to the labs or the Drake’s;

Following the Dynamic Duo around was never supposed to be more than a pass time, and then maybe doing some wishful thinking about how maybe they could help him, and battling with himself about whether it was a good idea to drag them into his mess.

And then the Joker fucked it all up, his chance was gone and he had to step up before Batman managed to kill himself in his grief because no one else would do it.

Can you imagine if somewhere in his archives he actually has a file with a life he invented/built for himself before being Robin? a name he chose?? With so much care because this was supposed to actually be his. Maybe he still tweaks it up from time to time just because he can’t let the idea go, even now.

And if any of the bats ever finds it they would just think it’s another one of Tim’s alias, like Alvin Draper, and maybe they make fun of him because ‘some of those things are really cheesy, Timbo. how did you came up with that??’

And Tim just has to pretend that he is Fine TM ‘yeah, haha, laugh it up’ like it doesn’t hurt because what is he supposed to say at this point?

It was never supposed to get this far. He was not supposed to get attached, to have people he actually cared about and then lie, lie, lie. Not while he was still Tim.

He should have been gone by now, to have finally laid the memory of Timothy Jackson Drake to rest and become his own person.

But He doesn’t want to loose this. He is catastrophizing whenever he is not in deep denial about the situation but it doesn’t change the facts.

He got an actual life now, with family and friends like he always wanted.

But it’s still a fucking lie

In which Jack & Janet Drake manage to neglect their toddler to death and have to find a replacement before the police or, god forbid, the media tears them apart.

It’s a good thing the US Government is getting rid of the GIW’s highly immoral test subjects before the JL can crack down on them.

Ha. Jokes on you, Jason. ‘Tim’ has always been the replacement.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #danny fenton and tim drake are the same person #crossover #ghost shots #why do i keep doing this to myself #ugh #the sad hours #my brain is configured for angst right now #dp x dc crossover

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sappho-favourite-pupil · 3 days ago

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i don't want to be repetitive but if you think about Caitvi through the series you can notice such a clear pattern of Caitlyn taking advantage of Vi's emotional vulnerability (or vulnerability in general) to get what she wants from her. and it happens so many times that is difficult for me to think it was an accident? i mean, you never know with this writing, but it's still kinda weird.

a few examples of what i mean: season 1, Vi accepts to help Caitlyn because she is a prisoner and has no choice but helping an enforcer out if she wants to be free again.

season 2, Vi accepts to be apart of the very institution that oppressed her and killed her parents because Caitlyn manipulates her into thinking their situations (losing a parent) are similar. and guilt trips her by whining about how she thought Vi was on "our" side.

Vi is scared that Caitlyn might change and leave her like everyone else did and that's the moment Caitlyn chooses to initiate their first kiss. which is a weird fucking moment in general if you think about it, cause Caitlyn goes from being meters away from Vi to very very close to her face and all of this while Vi's eyes are closed. Violet is basically presented with the fait accompli that they are kissing.

Vi is desperate because Jinx left her once again and she feels once again like she's the reason why she's got no one left. and despite all of this Caitlyn still thinks is a good idea to have sex with her in that prison cell. and let me be clear, the issue is not having sex in a prison cell as much as it is for Vi to engage in sexual activities in a moment of such vulnerabilty (trust me). if Caitlyn gave a damn about Vi she would have stopped her, she would have insisted they waited maybe just for a few hours to give Violet a moment to calm down.

#and if you don't want to use the world “manipulate” because it makes you uncomfortable #let's just say caitlyn has the peculiar habit to wait for the girl she loves to be in a vulnerable emotional state before making big steps #but i'm sure she's in total good faith right? it's not like people in an emotional place are easier to convince #and it's not like caitlyn has ever gotten physically and emotionally violent with vi the only time she refused to “be convinced” right???#anti caitvi #anti caitlyn kiramman #arcane #arcane season 2 #i genuinely don't know how the writers could write this without realising how bad it makes everything look #everything is so unpleasant

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ct-multifandom · 1 day ago

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Big day for annoying people (me)

The two new eps of ML were good? Like wow it’s been great so far except ep 3 was comparatively a flop imo. Werepapas was so, idk, enticing lore-wise but I don’t have much to say that other people haven’t except that they’re clearly NOT neglecting past plot points, making the tone too silly goofy all the time, nor retconning important stuff like some people worried they would. We have been FED. I’m sure Felix is involved in that ring bs somehow, but idk if his intentions are pure or not.

Warning for the only salty thing I’m gonna say on this post: I’m so tired of going into the fandom tag and seeing people whining about “bad writing” problems that literally never happened based entirely on their own incorrect predictions they made up to make themselves mad. Ugh anyway. This post is gonna be about small details I latched onto in Daddycop!

We got to see glimpses of Sabrina and Max’s rooms this ep! Max’s room looks like a Star Trek spaceship but the books on his bookshelf are kinda giving those reference books at the library of like, archived government documents or research papers iykwim whereas the books in Alya’s room look like manga. An interesting thing I noticed in Sabrina’s room is that she has a line of framed certificates on the wall, maybe academic awards or something similar

Did they ever say if Markov can see Kaalki or not? I’m sure they will eventually but idk which option I like better. It’d be cute if they were friends but it’d be pretty funny if he had to watch Max talk to the secret floating ghost who lives with them now and not question it

List of things Sabrina dumps in the trash: yellow nail polish, the brooch Chloe gifted to her/bribed her with in season 1, the cat ear headband from her Chat Noir cosplay when she and Chloe were roleplaying as him and Ladybug in season 3, a beret, maybe the one Chloe tried to bribe her with in s1, Chloe-style sunglasses, a Queen Bee doll, a photo of them together in the old animation, and a mug/tumbler? Maybe a gift from her as well idk maybe they’re selling Queen Bee-themed Stanley cups over there.

:((((( Aw Sabrina nooo I hate seeing her so sad and the way she lied to her dad so he would think she’s happy and has friends

I think this might be the first time the show referred to Fire Captain Hessenpy by name?

Marinette’s scooter has the T+S logo on it and a sticker that says Boulangerie Paris

Between eps 2 and 4 I’m getting the sense that Sabrina uses Miss Hound as an escape kinda like CN where she feels like she can become instantly likeable, trustworthy, helpful, and useful through the inherent credibility of being a superhero. She has anonymity, can sort of start over on a blank slate, and is automatically implied to be a good person since Ladybug entrusted her. I’m guessing we’re gonna see more of that blank slate idea with other characters and what they’ll do with it, but it’s telling that Sabrina decides to transform to resolve people’s minor inconveniences, especially when she’s feeling bad about herself. It’s like she’s proving a point to herself but also giving herself something productive to do.

The GIRLS Ahhhhh let’s go lesbians

Noticing a clear absence of Alix. Ik the special implied she has to keep hiding in the burrow from Lila but she’s all normal-looking in the intro and they can’t shelve her forever. I feel like something is gonna change to make her be able to return.

^^^ ALSO she’s the only hero with zero design updates and my theory is that the purpose of that is so she can do contrived time nonsense like going back to earlier seasons and going forward without contradicting anything or revealing which time period she’s actually from

I gotta say the side character writing has progressively been better and better throughout the show. Atp they really feel like actual people with their own opinions and motivations. In the early days they felt more like lovable NPCs who talked occasionally but now they’re real characters? With free will? I feel like I just watched Pinocchio get turned into a real boy

The pro-healthy eating censorship/propaganda/whatever in this show is so funny omg. Juleka: I brought fruit tea Mylene: wow that’s so much better than the sugary soda we had last time LMAO. To balance out Rose holding a bag of popcorn they gave Zoe two burlap sacks full of oranges which tbf I’d rather snack on those during a movie than popcorn but still. I saw a vid recently about gravity falls adding random bowls of fruit next to characters eating junk food because they were getting flagged as promoting unhealthy habits. I keep thinking about that moment in Ikari Gozen when Mari asks Kagami out for “juice” when any normal teen would’ve said “coffee” like nope no caffeine in my good Christian miraculous

Love Kagami being a pretentious film nerd go hang out with Nino

RED ALERT YOU GUYS Mylene has an inclusive pride flag pin on her overall strap. Like the rainbow flag with the trans triangle and the black stripe. It’s not subtle or anything it’s just right there wow. Damn

The pin above it reminds me of Timebreaker’s logo. I wonder what some of these pins mean

Ok last season they seem to have established that Sabrina became friends with Marc and Nathaniel who were both explicit Sabrina Supporters since their akuma episodes, so it feels sort of convenient that they were written out of the narrative for this ep. I do see the whole Girl Squad thing and how she feels excluded when all the girls in the group hang out together without her, doing traditional girl things like movie night sleepovers, so I do think it’s totally valid. Her having absolutely zero friends is hyperbolized though.

On that note I have to wonder if the school might have several lunch periods because none of the male characters expect Adrien and Nino were there. Or maybe they just stage the scene with whoever is convenient. They might have flexible lunch schedules and all the other characters are off somewhere else.

Rose mentioned a girl whose name I didn’t recognize and after rewinding i can’t tell what she said. Aglie? New character? Maybe she’s that black girl with pink hair who was sitting with Adrien, Nino, and Sublime at lunch

KAGAMI AND ONDINE ARE CANONICALLY FRIENDS this is like the Superbowl for me. I’m so excited for Sleeping/Princess Syren I need to see her.

God the girls were so messy in that scene where they didn’t want to invite Sabrina lol I kinda love it I can’t even be mad

Zoe, your lab safety is atrocious. Not only are you taking your goggles off while still in the lab, but then you *leave the room* and *touch someone* with your gloves still on?! Diabolical. What are they even doing, soldering computer chips?

Marinette when I catch you Marinette

Roger’s relationship with Sabrina is actually so cute even though he’s kinda misguided as a person GOD when he’s on his way to console his crying daughter and Lila enters his mind space and he’s cradling his arms like he’s clearly seeing her as his baby 🥺 nobody talk to me

Alexa play I bet on losing dogs by mitski. Myyyy baby my baby…

We got a glimpse of the baddest bitch in Paris Xavier Ramier I’m so happy

Sabrina shapeshifted her necklace into a brooch. Huh. I guess you can just do that

The power of believing in herself allowed her to yassify her own character design into a cuter and more fashionable superhero! This is basically just like real life if you think about it

Her ball has a doggy nose on it awww

Lila telling Roger to turn around so she could back him up and fire the anti akuma was badass okay

I’m not sold on the loud ass makeup they have a lot of the characters wearing so I’m glad we got to see the girls with clean faces at the end there. Wow they look so normal! I’m also loving the pajama designs. I had to pause and look at all of them.

Zoe had to stop and hit Sabrina with that rizz stare to make sure Sabrina wouldn’t be coming up with any platonic explanations for her behavior

I never thought I’d say these words, but I think a love triangle between Sabrina, Zoe, and Max would be fun. Imagine Zoe is into Sabrina, Sabrina isn’t exactly catching the hint and sees Zoe as a really nice friend, Sabrina kinda likes Max, and Max is like damn these bitches gay. Good for them.

The end card is so baby omg

I TOLD YOU GUYS Sabrina was gonna get a makeover and people were like uH No iTs JUsT An aNimATioN eRroR oF a ScRApPEd DeSiGn girl why the hell would they leave a scrapped design in the intro, and there’s no way they would accidentally not notice that much less repeat it

Mark my words white haired Caprikid is not an error either he’s real and he’s gonna collect all the chaos emeralds to get that way

A new diabolical twink has hit the scene. Ray’s pompous ass immediately reminded me of Preminger from Barbie. He looks like he rides horses. Like he tells people he’s into sports but then you find out the sport is just horse riding. Immediately invested. Who is this diva. I want him to get hit by a bus.

Ooooo Zoe was up to some Delinquent Shit in America this is so juicy. I looove when suspiciously perfect characters get revealed to be secretly fucked up that’s the best. I’ve always loved those types of headcanons, that she was expelled from her last school and moved to a different country all of a sudden for her mom’s PR. If you think about it, that’s exactly what happened to Chloe damn. Daughter commits PR disaster, do zero parenting about it, relocate daughter far away to start over with little consequence! I wanna see some parallels. I feel like she made it sound like she moved because she was getting bullied at her old school, but what if that was a lie, or at least a partial lie? You know shit’s serious when the exposition is in the post-post-endcard scene

The pacing of these episodes has been satisfying compared to previous seasons, especially 5. They aren’t trying to shove too much in, but there’s still a lot happening and fiiiinally a nice mix of plot and fighting. I was getting irritated by how rushed a lot of the fights were last season like might as well just not have them at all

Excited to see more yay! I love the little details. It’s kinda a bummer that Sabrina spent most of her hero focus ep sobbing but we ball (see what I did there) and the end was so cutesy. So excited to probably watch episode 11 before episode 6

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml spoilers #daddycop #ml s6 #ml s6 spoilers #ml season 6 #ml daddycop #sabrina raincomprix #zoe lee #max kante #alix kubdel #marinette dupain cheng #miss hound #kagami tsuguri #mylene haprele #juleka couffaine #rose lavillant

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