yukiyee-akian

[yukiyee-akian]

"My poor child, what have they done to you?" Her warm gaze had been overshadowed by sadness.

"Mother, they…"

Sobs.

Your knees gave way, falling with a dull thud onto the white marble slab below. Clear tears, illuminated by the gray light of the cloudy sky, traced a path down your dirt-streaked cheeks as they fell.

"Mother… They abandoned me… Left me to my fate."

She knelt to your level, cupping your cheeks with a tenderness none of them could ever match, her fingertips brushing against the scars on your face—scars that hadn’t been there when she cared for you.

"…Avenge yourself, my child…"

Avenge yourself.

This is something I wrote at 12am because I came up with an idea for a Yandere!Batfam x hitman reader story.

English is not my first language.

[yukiyee-akian]

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #381 )✅️

Stop ✋ please help my baby 👶

Please don’t ignore my text ⚠️⚠️

Is very important ⚠️

I am Mahmoud from North Gaza, studying computer engineering. I was working in a programming company during my studies. I got married a day before the war started and I was living in my house with my wife, but because of the war, things changed and I lost my house, my job and my father. 💔😭😭

It is very unfortunate and now my family has no breadwinner, so I desperately need your help. My wife is pregnant and we are suffering from famine. My child is my only hope in this world. I am asking you for a small donation so that I can provide food for my pregnant wife, please 😭💔💔

[yukiyee-akian]

"My poor child, what have they done to you?" Her warm gaze had been overshadowed by sadness.

"Mother, they…"

Sobs.

Your knees gave way, falling with a dull thud onto the white marble slab below. Clear tears, illuminated by the gray light of the cloudy sky, traced a path down your dirt-streaked cheeks as they fell.

"Mother… They abandoned me… Left me to my fate."

She knelt to your level, cupping your cheeks with a tenderness none of them could ever match, her fingertips brushing against the scars on your face—scars that hadn’t been there when she cared for you.

"…Avenge yourself, my child…"

Avenge yourself.

This is something I wrote at 12am because I came up with an idea for a Yandere!Batfam x hitman reader story.

English is not my first language.

[yukiyee-akian]

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #381 )✅️

Stop ✋ please help my baby 👶

Please don’t ignore my text ⚠️⚠️

Is very important ⚠️

I am Mahmoud from North Gaza, studying computer engineering. I was working in a programming company during my studies. I got married a day before the war started and I was living in my house with my wife, but because of the war, things changed and I lost my house, my job and my father. 💔😭😭

It is very unfortunate and now my family has no breadwinner, so I desperately need your help. My wife is pregnant and we are suffering from famine. My child is my only hope in this world. I am asking you for a small donation so that I can provide food for my pregnant wife, please 😭💔💔

[yukiyee-akian]

"My poor child, what have they done to you?" Her warm gaze had been overshadowed by sadness.

"Mother, they…"

Sobs.

Your knees gave way, falling with a dull thud onto the white marble slab below. Clear tears, illuminated by the gray light of the cloudy sky, traced a path down your dirt-streaked cheeks as they fell.

"Mother… They abandoned me… Left me to my fate."

She knelt to your level, cupping your cheeks with a tenderness none of them could ever match, her fingertips brushing against the scars on your face—scars that hadn’t been there when she cared for you.

"…Avenge yourself, my child…"

Avenge yourself.

This is something I wrote at 12am because I came up with an idea for a Yandere!Batfam x hitman reader story.

English is not my first language.

[yukiyee-akian]

while you’re here, please have a look at the @alkliliyfamliye’s gofundme and support their family!

(art by nikailustracion)

[yukiyee-akian]

Updated my Discord pfp after about a month or so, so I thought I'd share :]

Significant lack of extra shading? Yes, however, cool hidden blades and an updated idea of what my Assassin robes would look like

Plus, I think I did the shading inside the hood better and gave myself a full-blown Ezio smirk lol

...considering that my past couple of posts have been about Assassin's Creed, I think you guys know what my latest fixation definitely is

[yukiyee-akian]

you contradict yourself because you contain multitudes. i contradict myself because i am wrong.

[yukiyee-akian]

Can we talk about this Francisco Randez photoset?

HE LOOKS JUST LIKE DESMOND AFTER THE GREAT TEMPLE IF HE'D SURVIVED except...it's the other hand BUT ANYWAY HEAR ME OUT

[yukiyee-akian]

I was gonna do a christmas art w 4 of them where the boys hold a misletoe(is that how you say it) above Desnonds head, and he goes "I dont really celebrate christmas" then Alt goes "I was raised muslim (idk if he was lol)" Connor goes "I learned what it is 20 min ago" (did they do christmas traditions in that time?) and Ezio goes "I just want to kiss"(mastermind behind this)

But drawing 4 people is torture....

[yukiyee-akian]

My Baby Brother

Platonic Batfam/Damian x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: slight angst, reader is Bruce’s biological child but I imagine that the reader can be any color, shape, size, etc.

The peanut gallery filed into the living room one by one. Each brother looking as disinterested as the next to sit for one of Bruce’s family portraits.

Dick, Tim, and Damian moved to encircle your father sitting in an obsidian-colored velvet armchair. You shifted awkwardly to the right to avoid Damian shoulder-checking you.

You looked to Damian to find him already watching you. The corner of your lips twitched into a wry smile but quickly faded as Damian’s green eyes narrowed.

It felt like only yesterday that he would look at you in complete adoration. Your sweet baby brother doubling as your only friend. Now he looks at you as if you’re nothing more than a stain on his perfect life.

Damian’s initial love of you seemed to stem from the fact that you were the only other biological child of Bruce. He gravitated to the oldest “legitimate” (as he so lovingly put) when he first arrived at the manor.

He would join you for walks in the garden or reading in the library. He considered you to be exceedingly simple but at least you were held in higher esteem than your older brothers.

It wasn’t until he joined Bruce and Tim on their nightly patrols that the family dynamic changed. You were left alone in the library and the garden as Damian trained and fought alongside his new brothers.

You had reached out to Damian a few times since the change. You could only tolerate asking him for book recommendations or offering to paint with him for so long. You began to pull away, sensing the impending hurt.

The loneliness stung at first but over the months, melted into a twisted sort of calm. You found peace knowing that he hated you almost as much a you loved him.

As you reminisce, you look back at Damian and his pouty little face. Your smile returns only more relaxed and genuine. This seems to throw him off guard and he hurriedly looks back to the painter and their easel.

He moves closer to the armchair and away from your side. The painter waives their hand indicating for you to scooch closer to the family.

You take two steps to the left and lightly place your hand on Damian’s shoulder. You feel him tense but you keep your hand steady. The sound of the wood crackling in the fireplace pairs nicely with the gentle stroke of the brush against the easel.

The next few hours creep by and your brothers flee the living room, glad to be away from the intensely boring get together. Your father follows suit and Alfred waits by the door as the painter begins to pack their belongings.

You make your way to the other side of the easel to take a gander at their handiwork. The painting is stunning. The rich, warm hues of the room pair nicely with the striking features of your family.

Your gaze make its way over to the side of the portrait with you and Damian. Your graceful smiles and close proximity remind you of the happier days with Damian.

You nod appreciatively at the painter and slip out of the living room. You look down the hall and watch Damian as he walks alongside Tim and Dick. You turn around and make your way back to the quiet corner of the manor that holds your room.

You shake off the expensive scarf you had been wearing for the painting and scan your room. Brown boxes covered in a scribbled mess of sharpie tower around the room.

All of your belongings packed and ready to go for tomorrow’s 10am pickup from Winslows’ Moving and Storage. An appointment you scheduled without any of your family’s knowledge.

You found a quaint cottage over in Ivy Town for an “affordable” price. It would be a downgrade from the manor but maybe that’s what you needed.

A break from the paparazzi and the crushing weight of expectations. A break from an absent father and an overbearing bat. A break from the glares and scowls shot by your brothers. You will make new friends that aren’t highly trained assassins and have a normal, happy life.

Yes, this is exactly what you needed. A fresh start at a new home and a new university. You know you will miss Damian and Alfred dearly but this is what’s best.

Even though you will be leaving everything you know behind, you can leave knowing one thing. No matter how much he hates you, Damian will always be your baby brother.

Extra notes: trying to shake off the dust from my very long hiatus hehe. I feel like this fic could easily turn yandere🤔

[yukiyee-akian]

[yukiyee-akian]

— Mi pobre niño, ¿qué te han hecho?— Su mirada cálida había sido ensombrecida por la tristeza.

— Mamá, ellos…

Llanto.

Tus rodillas cedieron, cayendo con un ruido sordo sobre la placa de mármol blanco debajo. Lágrimas claras iluminadas por la luz gris del cielo nublado recorrieron tus cachetes sucios de tierra, marcando un camino en su caída.

— Mamá… Ellos me abandonaron… Me dejaron a mí suerte.

Ella se arrodilló a tu altura, agarrando tus mejillas con una delicadeza que ninguno de ellos podría igualar nunca, tocando con la yema de sus dedos las cicatrices en tu cara, cicatrices que no estaban allí cuando ella cuidaba de ti.

— … Véngate, hijo mío…

Véngate.

__________________

No está corregido/revisado, fue solo una idea fugaz que me gustó.

Si quieren hacer/escribir algo con esto, me avisan :3

[yukiyee-akian]

lost in soulless city

Hello 👋, My name is Momen Al Madhoun / I am a digital artist /a father of two children " Ezzdeen & Amir " I live in Gaza City in the heart of the Genocide, working tirelessly to amplify my voice to the world through my artwork.

I want to say thank you a lot. Your donations helped me improve our displacement conditions. But my family still needs your contributions to keep going We rely on you, you are our hope for survival.

🌟 Our campaign is vetted by 🇵🇸 @/gazavetters List at #291

Gofundme Campaign Link

[yukiyee-akian]

— Mi pobre niño, ¿qué te han hecho?— Su mirada cálida había sido ensombrecida por la tristeza.

— Mamá, ellos…

Llanto.

Tus rodillas cedieron, cayendo con un ruido sordo sobre la placa de mármol blanco debajo. Lágrimas claras iluminadas por la luz gris del cielo nublado recorrieron tus cachetes sucios de tierra, marcando un camino en su caída.

— Mamá… Ellos me abandonaron… Me dejaron a mí suerte.

Ella se arrodilló a tu altura, agarrando tus mejillas con una delicadeza que ninguno de ellos podría igualar nunca, tocando con la yema de sus dedos las cicatrices en tu cara, cicatrices que no estaban allí cuando ella cuidaba de ti.

— … Véngate, hijo mío…

Véngate.

__________________

No está corregido/revisado, fue solo una idea fugaz que me gustó.

Si quieren hacer/escribir algo con esto, me avisan :3

[yukiyee-akian]

— Mi pobre niño, ¿qué te han hecho?— Su mirada cálida había sido ensombrecida por la tristeza.

— Mamá, ellos…

Llanto.

Tus rodillas cedieron, cayendo con un ruido sordo sobre la placa de mármol blanco debajo. Lágrimas claras iluminadas por la luz gris del cielo nublado recorrieron tus cachetes sucios de tierra, marcando un camino en su caída.

— Mamá… Ellos me abandonaron… Me dejaron a mí suerte.

Ella se arrodilló a tu altura, agarrando tus mejillas con una delicadeza que ninguno de ellos podría igualar nunca, tocando con la yema de sus dedos las cicatrices en tu cara, cicatrices que no estaban allí cuando ella cuidaba de ti.

— … Véngate, hijo mío…

Véngate.

__________________

No está corregido/revisado, fue solo una idea fugaz que me gustó.

Si quieren hacer/escribir algo con esto, me avisan :3

[yukiyee-akian]

— Mi pobre niño, ¿qué te han hecho?— Su mirada cálida había sido ensombrecida por la tristeza.

— Mamá, ellos…

Llanto.

Tus rodillas cedieron, cayendo con un ruido sordo sobre la placa de mármol blanco debajo. Lágrimas claras iluminadas por la luz gris del cielo nublado recorrieron tus cachetes sucios de tierra, marcando un camino en su caída.

— Mamá… Ellos me abandonaron… Me dejaron a mí suerte.

Ella se arrodilló a tu altura, agarrando tus mejillas con una delicadeza que ninguno de ellos podría igualar nunca, tocando con la yema de sus dedos las cicatrices en tu cara, cicatrices que no estaban allí cuando ella cuidaba de ti.

— … Véngate, hijo mío…

Véngate.

__________________

No está corregido/revisado, fue solo una idea fugaz que me gustó.

Si quieren hacer/escribir algo con esto, me avisan :3