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Three Goblin Art
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Monterey Bay Aquarium
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@goodzebra
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my name is zebra or zeb for short !
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WARNING: yandere content ahead !
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@goodzebra again and your response was AMAZING! such a brilliant analysis! you mentioned āscript brahmsā being a whole different beast - what is āscript brahmsā??
Whew boy, that's a doozy! Script Brahms is more of a classical Slasher than movie Brahms. In a lot of ways, he'd have been so much scarier than what we got, but not as sympathetic or imo attractive.
Lets start with looks. Script Brahms or SB is fucking HUGE. not just tall, but massive all over. And none of that 'improvise, overcome, adapt' of Movie Brahms or MB, SB comes fucking STRAPPED!
art by Big-Buff-Goth
just like in the original filming of the movie, there's no mask or burn scars also, he has rotten yellow teeth... š¤®
He didn't kick in the mirror and stab Cole with a doll shard after punching him a few times, he STABBED THROUGH THE WALL WITH A KNIFE INTO COLE"S NECK!
and Cole didn't have a quick death, he was still alive on the floor, choking on his blood and SB stabs him through the chest to finish him off.
He's also not afraid to go outside, in fact he goes outside earlier in the script to put half dead rats in Malcolm's truck (after Malcolm and Gerti (proto Greta) fuck, yes they fuck in the script), he locks the front door and kitchen door to keep Gerti and Malcolm in the house before showing himself.
He even slashes Malcolm's tires when Gerti has second thoughts of leaving Malcolm behind. This Boy is not afraid of the outside, at least not around the house. (MB is debatable we never get any solid confirmation if he goes outside or not)
art by The-Thot-Clown
At one point MB grabs Greta in a hug/choke hold to idk subdue her or try and drag her off, it's hard to tell...
Wanna see what SB does to Gerti?
MB looks almost sweet by comparison huh?
SB is also way more vocal. Several times in the script we hear him scream out in rage. He also talks to and taunts Gerti.
SB's perversion is also waaayy more than MB. we still have the Gerti (Greta) doll, but how SB's room is set up tells of a much darker and disturbed individual.
I am so..so...SO GLAD, they went with Music sheets covering the walls over coloring book pages mixed with freaking PORN! *gags* It would have really pushed that 'mind of a child' more than the manipulation we got in the movie. and trust me, the creepy baby voice and 'playfulness' we got in the movie was more than enough.
In the script, it's mentioned that SB loves his music but that's it for any musical references. no violin on his wall or in his old room, no music sheets covering the walls.
instead, during the dinner scene with Gerti and the Heelshires, the parents tell Gerti (who's from Texas) that Brahms likes her accent, and asks if she's ever met Indians before. SB seems to be more into American Western culture than Music.
SB is also more like a traditional slasher because good god, he does not go down easy.
that's 6 stabs! (the first stab was when he was in the bed)
but wait, there's more!
we get the surprise revival/final showdown like a typical slasher movie. only when Gerti fucking RAMS HIM THROUGH THE HOUSE WITH MALCOLM"S TRUCK do we get a death. and even then, Gerti DOUBLE TAPS THAT SHIT!
SB is a freaking BEAST!
but I prefer the softer (but still edgy), sweeter (but still pervy), musically talented Movie Brahms.
Check out my "script brahms" tag for other people's posts on the script vs movie on my blog if you wanna know more, but I pretty much covered it.
Also, if you wanna read the script yourself, here's a link!
another amazing analysis! script brahms is a MONSTER, where tf would sb even GET porn mags from š did his parents give them to him or something š¤¢
give me movie brahms ANY DAY
"And then she went and left me for the grocery boy- THE GROCERY BOY!!"
heya! im @goodzebra , canāt ask as myself bc its a sideblog :/
you are my fave brahms account, your takes are AMAZING!! iāve been wondering something and i was curious if you have an answer or just any thoughts on it: why did brahms wait until cole smashed the doll before revealing himself and killing him? cole was abusing greta and very clearly stressing her out, iām surprised he waited till cole broke the doll before getting involved. what stopped him? why was the doll the breaking point? (pardon the pun lmao)
Eeeeeee! OMG thank you so much! Glad to be of service! Grab your popcorn because boy, howdy do I have some THOUGHTS!
Believe it or not, I HAVE pondered why he took so long. My best guess is possibly decision paralysis?
Brahms is a very unique slasher/villain (if you can even count him as such) in that he goes out of his way to scare off any threats FIRST. The man lives and breathes manipulation. He knows the doll is creepy and uses it to his advantage.
In the grand scheme of things, he's mostly at a disadvantage. (Script Brahms is a whole different beast) He's not supernatural, overly strong (debatable), or has some unique weapon like a machete or chainsaw. He used that broken hook thingie that Greta broke in the attic and a piece of broken doll to harm people. He seems to be a very "improvise, overcome, adapt" type. He ran in without much of a plan and used the element of surprise to catch people off guard (the mirror scene)
So let's put ourselves into Brahms...er... sweater...
You're a homebody that wants to be taken care of by a pretty lady. Your entire life has been through the conduit of a porcelain doll, you get food because the doll is served food, you get entertainment because the doll gets read to. You get your necessities met because of the rules and because nanny thinks you're the spirit of a dead boy tied to a doll. That doll is quite literally your meal ticket. And after getting the letter form mummy and daddy that they're not coming back, that doll and Greta are all you have left.
And for a couple of weeks to a couple months (it's hard to tell how long Greta was there) things have been going pretty smooth (Malcolm keeps gumming things up by macking on your girl tho lol)
Now, this newcomer appears and is harassing your Greta. He's threatening to take her away from you! Keep in mind it was at best like 7 hours Cole was in the house from discovery to death. Also, pesky Malcolm was there too. Everything is hinging on Cole going away and things going back to normal (we'll deal with Malcolm later). So what do we do? We use the doll and dead rats and blood to scare Cole away.
But.... it doesn't work.
Now, you're in panic mode. Cole's not running away, he's yelling, screaming, he's storming after your Greta and takes your doll, oh great, Malcolm's there... he's not helping things either. and suddenly... SMASH
You're entire lively hood has been smashed into 100000 pieces.
You're not just scared of losing your nanny, you're PISSED. Possibly the same kind of pissed that lead to Emily's death. Possibly the same kind of pissed that overtakes you and you were never taught how manage because your parents would rather hide away their problems than deal with them.
It's now or never, Greta needs you, she asked for your help but manipulation wasn't enough, so you catch Cole off-guard and lucky for you, the dumb bastard decided to hover by the mirror. So you kick out the glass and Cole then climb out like a horrifying ghoul.
Malcolm tries to get in your way and you hit him with the pole/hook thing because you actually don't want to kill Malcolm (my personal HC) just get him out of the way. Even when Greta tries to stop you, you shove her back and in your blinding fury, you grab the nearest weapon, a doll shard, and jam it into Cole's neck. it didn't have to be this way, but oh well, can't put the genie back in the bottle or the man back in the wall.
And everything after that point spirals out of Brahms control. he does his best to mitigate things but thanks to Malcolm and Greta (rightfully) being horrified, things end up a bloody mess.
Looking back on it, the problem could have been solved with a slashed throat in the middle of the night, but that also carries risk. police would more that likely get involved and Greta would still leave because after all, the ghost of a dead boy killed a man. employment or not, she would have left. any sane person wouldn't stay in a haunted house with MURDER ghost boy. Or worse yet, she gets charged for Cole's murder and gets arrested.
Brahms was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and sadly it was always going to be his fate. At some point, Greta would notice the Heelshires didn't come back and would most likely have abandoned the doll, or took it with her which does Brahms no good. Or at some point when he felt Greta was sufficiently 'tied' to the doll, Brahms would make himself known and likely still scared her off because...yeah...duh, big creepy masked man hiding in walls is not a good look. Or what most likely would happen, and why Mrs. Heelshire apologized to Greta, is that Brahms would have trapped her there, forcing her to take care of him until either Malcolm saved her, or he told the local police and they saved her.
No matter what, Brahms's destiny was a sad and lonely one.
I hope this answers your question! Thanks again for the ask! And I get the whole sideblog thing, I don't like cross pollinating my blogs either lol hope I didn't bum you out!
AAAAAH THIS ANSWERED MY QUESTION AND MORE!!! iāve sent another ask your way <3
ā COMFORT SHOW ļ½„ ĖĖ ā©
PAIRING: yandere!jason todd x gn!reader
DESCRIPTION: when jason canāt sleep, youāre the one he turns to. justā¦ not in person.
WARNINGS: descriptions of violence, blood, injury, and trauma, typical yandere behaviours, stalking, swearing
The ropes bind Jasonās body to the wooden chair like a python strangling its prey. They suffocate his limbs, burning roughly onto already beaten skin. Tears in the red spandex adorning his form only reveal more red - except this red is warm, and pours onto concrete stained with splashes of crimson so dark theyāre nearly black. Jason thinks back to a few months ago, when the stains were lighter. Or was it a few years ago? He shudders as much as the ropes will allow, hunching his back and hanging his head low, as if it would shield him from the derelict, barren hellscape heās in.
He cautiously raises his head, bruised eyes scanning the warehouse and mapping the exits for the nth time. His stare bores into the main door as he pictures Batman kicking it off its hinges and running towards him with both relief and rage flooding his veins. He pictures being untied and finally being in Bruceās arms - his fatherās arms - instead of ropes. Jasonās chest relaxes in response to the mental image, a small smile forming on his bloodied face and a shaky, wistful breath escaping from his struggling lungs.
But the relief wouldnāt last long. A maniacal laugh echoes in the distance, and his imagination evaporates as the sound forces him back into reality. His cold, dark, dirty, bloody, and lonely reality. His heart sinks as the laughter grows closer, and plunges completely when the door slams open. It gives entry to a monster in human skin; a pale, green-haired monster with eyes blown wide and a smile carved from ear to ear outlined in red. One would naturally assume it was face paint but, knowing this creature, it could easily be blood from the quivering Robin before it. That, or from one of the many victims that precede him.
In its claws is a crowbar. Its smile only grows more sinister when it sees Jason glance at it in fear.
The monsterās mouth starts moving. Talking. Except, no sound is coming out. All Jason can hear is his quickening heartbeat, pulsing in his ears and his chest. Beating so hard that it feels too big for his body and is desperately trying to escape from his broken ribcage.
Maybe that was the problem, he thinks amongst his dread. I was too soft. Too forgiving. Too weak.
The monsterās grip on the crowbar tightens as it raises the weapon above Jasonās head. Jasonās vision is blurred through the tears streaming down his cheeks, seeping into the open gashes and mixing with the gore. He canāt see the monsterās face, but itās grin is stretched so wide that he doesnāt need to see the details. He knows what it means. He also doesnāt need clear vision to see that Batman isnāt here. Gothamās saviour isnāt here to save him. He shouldāve known; Gotham always comes first.
āPleaseā¦ā he splutters out in a pitiful attempt to stop the inevitable. He only gets a hysterical shrieking in response, accompanied by a grin that doesnāt fit human teeth; it better fits a starving lion thatās finally found its prey.
I never shouldāve trusted my mother, he thinks.
I never shouldāve trusted my āfatherā, either.
Family only lets you down.
The crowbar flies down towards him and-
Jason shoots up from his bed, sitting upright only for a moment before clamouring out of the sheets. The duvet became just as restrictive as those damn ropes. He tumbles to the floor with a jolt and hurriedly crawls to the corner of his bedroom, curling up with his knees to his chest and burying his head in the gap between them. He digs his elbows into his knees, reaching his arms up to shield his head and grip his hair. His hands become damp from the sweat soaking the dark strands, while the hairs on his arms stand up in terror. His breathing quickens into shallow gasps; his mind replaying the horror again, and again, and again, unaware the nightmare is over.
As he trembles in the corner, his sniffling and hyperventilating muffled by his knees, he frantically searches his mind and his surroundings for an anchor; an escape from the neverending torture. Static starts swarming his vision, flickering and dancing like the stars in the night sky outside his window. His racing heartbeat thumps in his ears and he desperately begs himself to think over the nervous drum.
He just manages to catch an unopened package next to his bookshelf despite his sight being obscured by a visual snowstorm; a medium cardboard box still sealed with tape and decorated with a large postage label. A box, he thinks. Box breathing, he realises. In your nose for four, hold for four, exhale through the mouth for four, hold for four. Like Bruce taught you.
Like Bruce taught you.
Bruce.
The thought of that man still fills him with resentment, no matter how many times they heal things between them. Except, their version of healing things was more akin to putting a band-aid over a bullet wound: they know their relationship needs resuscitation, but neither of them have a defibrillator. Or the life support machines to try and keep it alive afterwards.
Jason forces himself to push down his simmering outrage and just create the goddamn boxes. He begins with a shaky inhale and uses it to trace the first side of the box, visualising the line travelling - albeit unsteadily - across his mind. He holds that breath despite the stuttering from his chest, tracing the next side of the box, and then exhales, drawing the third line. When his lungs empty, he holds that emptiness to complete the outline. The wobbly lines create a flimsy box that definitely wouldnāt be fit for purpose, but itās a box nonetheless. He assembles another one, but with steadier lines this time. The lines become smoother with every box he mentally constructs, and his breathing starts to slow.
Hell, he thinks, Iām making enough boxes to fill a delivery warehouse-
Wait, no, not a warehouse! Anything but a damn warehouse!
With that internal slip of the tongue, his progress unravels: his breathing rises once more, and the tightness in his chest returns, the familiar tension mounting all over again. The ghost of the warehouse and the crowbar sprints to the forefront, but itās now mixed with Bruce leaving him to die, his betrayal stabbing him in the back. Jason swears he can feel that metaphorical batarang becoming physical, plunging into his back and tearing into his skin. The wound still agonises him no matter how much time passes. It never fully heals; only scars until the strain splits it open again, blood flowing out as if it were freshly cut.
An abrupt noise rings throughout Jasonās bedroom and cuts through his climbing panic. He flinches at the sound before identifying it as his phone buzzing, vibrating on something. The bedside table - he realises. He notices the buzzing taking on a certain ringtone and his thoughts pause. Them. That ghost of the painful nightmare begins floating away like a cloud blown by a summer breeze, his mind gaining lucidity as it evaporates.
Iām not there. Iām with them. I need them. Theyāll save me.
Jason lifts his head up, his glassy eyes peeking out from under his arms, tears still brimming. He blinks them away, despite his sore eyes being exhausted from the sobbing, and battles through the heaviness in his bones to move to towards his bed. His limbs tingle as he rises from the floor; his body shocked at the abrupt movement. Pins and needles prickle at his skin, and he places a hand on the wall to steady himself. The static begins dissipating from his eyes and his mind becomes more grounded in reality through his sheer concentration on his phone and, by extension, you. He ambles over to the bedside table and attempts to pick up his phone, but his legs had other ideas: he slumps onto the edge of the bed, his hand clumsily resting on the table to balance himself. He lets out a huff of frustration and he rubs his eyes with his palms, wiping away the leftover tears and dizziness before grabbing his phone.
The screen lights up, illuminating Jasonās face in a soft blue glow, and displays a notification: Movement detected on Bedside. Speedily inputting the passcode, he taps the hidden camera app and a menu appears upon opening, displaying a list of cameras and a preview of what each one is recording. He selects the camera labelled āBedsideā and it engulfs the screen. It shows a close-up view of you sleeping in your bed from a camera hidden in your bedside lamp. Jason installed cameras around your apartment, aside from your bathroom, when you werenāt in. He needed to make sure that youāre healthy, happy, and not in any danger from burglaries, health emergencies, dodgy electrics, kitchen fires, and anything else that could take you from him. You silence his mind - your presence putting a silencer on his synapses that insist on quick-firing like the guns he uses at night. You placate them, tame them, and protect him from his mind when he canāt manage to protect himself. So, he has to protect you in return.
His gaze stays fixated on your sleeping form as he lays down in his own bed and takes the coiled-up earphones from the table, letting them unravel on his stomach. He grabs hold of the earphone jack and plugs it in, his eyes never leaving you. He picks up each earphone individually and slots them into his ears before raising the audio volume with quick presses.
He begins to listen to your soft breaths, and he can already feel his muscles relaxing; the tension in his chest loosens its grip on his heart and his lungs are no longer being suffocated by fear squeezing his breaths out. He syncs his breathing to yours to form a calming harmony and becomes absorbed by you, lovingly admiring your peaceful state. Youāre snuggled up in your duvet with your hair sprawled across your pillow in a tangled mess thanks to your tossing and turning: the same unconscious movements that triggered the camera alarm in the first place. If you could see yourself now, youād probably be embarrassed at how disheveled you are, but Jason doesnāt care. To him, youāre the dictionary definition of a sleeping beauty.
You were already his comfort person, but the cameras have transformed your life into his comfort show: his safe space after a difficult day, or a brutal night, where he can shut off the outside world and be part of yours, even if itās from a distance. Your life is different from a tv show, of course. Each episode is slightly different every time and thereās no canned audience, theme songs, or jingles to fill any silences. Itās alright, though - his laughter at your silly moments makes up for it. Besides, he doesnāt need any of those gimmicks to help his concentration. Nothing about you is boring to him; you keep his attention even when youāre sleeping. The unpredictability of your daily life is manageable, too: heās learned your routine over time and can accurately predict your next steps. He doesnāt mind the small daily deviances you make since it means thereās more to learn about you, and he wants to learn everything there is to know. The best thing is that there are unlimited episodes, though, āepisodesā isnāt really accurate. That implies a beginning and an end to the footage, which there isnāt. The cameras run 24/7, meaning thereās no restrictions to when Jason can watch you. That especially comes in handy in times like this, when the night is tormenting him and he needs your sunlight to save him from its darkness.
Thereās still one big difference between your life and a tv show. You donāt know youāre in a tv show. You donāt know your apartment has become a studio; a set with cameras catching every angle of you. More importantly, you donāt know you have an audience. An audience of one, but that one is a superfan who watches with unwavering dedication. Who screenshots his favourite moments for his evergrowing album of you. Who knows your habits and your quirks better than you do. Who is your hidden protector, silently shielding you from the pain the world can bring; the pain he knows all too well.
Jason pulls his duvet over him, turning on his side and awkwardly propping his phone up on his pillow with the screen facing him, still showing your precious sleeping self. He sinks into his bed and pretends youāre sleeping next to him, turned towards him in your slumber. Your imagined companionship makes his eyelids heavy, and your shared breathing creates a soothing rhythm that radiates through his body as his lids close, rapidly blinking to catch as many glimpses of you as possible before fully closing. Jason finally surrenders to your calming effect and he drifts off being enveloped not only by his duvet, but by your breathing in his ears, your picture in his mind, and his love for you cradling his heart softer than any duvet or blanket ever could.
AUTHORāS NOTES: AAAAAAH MY FIRST LONG FORM FIC!! this became so much longer than I intended, I hope itās not too long! Iāve always had this headcanon about yandere Jason where he, before making himself known to darling, watches them through hidden cameras after he has a nightmare to calm himself down.
TAGS: @l0vergirls @luludeluluramblings also I got inspo from @jade-zzz for the layout! ā¤ļø
This is making me hyperventilate
Ok so...
This is why I'm not in the camp that Brahms didn't bathe or shave or cut his hair for YEARS.
What we see in the movie was like a month or so of no upkeep. And he was dirty and sweaty because he ran through the walls, crashing through the mirror/ wall, and chasing greta and malcolm.
He's generally not a stinky, dirty, crusty boy your honor!
how non-writers think writing works: creating a detailed outline and plan, writing each section carefully and weaving in all the different story threads like a master creator, expertly creating a masterpiece with care and precision
how writing actually works: daydreaming that one scene, creating a half-formed plot in a daze all around it, swearing at characters that don't magic themselves into existence, becoming absolutely obsessed with the story for a solid week, it becomes your entire life, you sit down open a blank word document and write approximately two and a half chapters, lose interest, daydream an entirely new idea for a new story, rinse and repeat
Relentless Conqueror
Based on Sylus from Love and Deepspace
Hex code: #550816
Hex code: #6a040f
Hex code: #8c0000
Hex code: #9a0d1b
Hex code: #e8162e
Hex code: #8c262c
Find more here!
Rafayel Ver1. Zayne Ver1. Xavier Ver.
Like/rb if use // No need to credit me
Requests for dividers are open!
I'm bored, let's discuss Brahms's love languages, shall we?
#5 Receiving Gifts: This involves giving gifts that show thoughtfulness and care. People with this love language feel loved when they receive gifts that are meaningful and thoughtful.
I feel this is Brahms's least used love language. Not that he doesn't like getting or giving gifts, but coming from a position where his life was spent in a wall, who would he be buying christmas presents for? And birthdays? The doll would receive a nice new outfit where as he'd probably get ill fitting hand me downs. If he does show this love language, it's in the form of food.
#4 Words of Affirmation: This involves using spoken or written words to express love and appreciation. People with this love language value compliments, encouragement, and heartfelt messages.
We all know our boy loves to be told how good he is. But on the ladder of love languages, it's the second rung from the bottom. What good is being told that he's a good boy without some other, more preferred, love lingo to back up that statement?
#3 Acts of Service: This involves doing thoughtful deeds for your partner to make their life easier. People with this love language feel loved when their partner helps them with tasks or chores.
Right smack in the middle is acts of service. The rules are a testament to this being higher up the chain. Granted these acts are performed via a doll, but I like to think once Brahms is known by his nanny, he's more than happy to have acts of service done for him instead. I'm thinking he's less likely to return the favor though, after all...YOU are HIS nanny, but he will generally help if asked.
#2 Quality Time: This involves giving undivided attention to your partner. People with this love language feel loved when their partner is fully present and engaged in activities together.
Now we're cooking! Brahms loves being close to his partner. He's an attention seeker 100%. After being separated from any human interaction for decades and only being "present" through a wall and a doll, Brahms craves to be a part of his nanny's day to day life. He'd definitely follow them around. This goes hand in hand with the next love language.
And #1 goes to...
Physical Touch: This involves intimate and affectionate physical contact such as hugging, kissing, and holding hands. People with this love language feel loved through physical closeness.
I know it, you know it, your neighbors dog knows it, this boy is TOUCHED STARVED. He can endure the loss of love languages 3,4, and 5, but 2 and especially 1 are a dire need. He's definitely a cuddler, and even needs to be within hand holding distance of the one he loves bordering on clingy. He's been denied the touch of another person so long, he'll always beg for more kisses and hug just a little longer than most.
THIS. IS. EVERYTHING.
āI want to write a fic about this but I donāt think anybody will be interested in itā ummm hello excuse me maāam what do you mean you donāt think anybody will be interested in it??? YOU. YOU ARE INTERESTED IN IT???? write it because YOU are interested in it and YOU want to write about it. fanfic writing should always be first and foremost about YOUR enjoyment, not other peopleās.
Now, I've seen a lot of people say it was Brahms parents who started the fire to fake their son's death, but I've also seen people say that it was Brahms who started it to escape the consequences of killing Emily Cribbs, and the parents went with it to help their son.
But it's not confirmed whether or not he did actually kill Emily (or the nannys), and if he didn't then there's not really any way he could have gotten the intent to kill over the 20 years he was in the walls, of course theres a possibilty but how? If he did kill Emily that could explain what happened to the previous nanny's before Greta, Brahms must've killed them too, because why would he just randomly kill them if he didn't have the interest or intent to kill someone before them, Emily.
I dont know if I'm making sense but I think he either is just a born killer, or was made into one, but even then how? How was he made into one? His lore is so empty but interesting.
According to the official "the boy movie" tumblr, Brahms either scared away his nannies or rejected them. They would leave because they got creeped out watching a doll or not follow the rules. To me, that reads as they were fired.
As for Emily I do believe he killed her, but it could have been an accident or like, he just didn't realize how strong he was or his temper got the best of him etc.
He always defaults to the ghost boy routine when it comes to solving an issue, except when Cole broke the doll and was abusing/threatening to take away Greta. She asked for Brahms help... and he did help. š¤·āāļø
It surprises me how many symptoms of autism Brahms has
ā¢He holds himself to a daily pattern and freaks out once it breaks - his list of rules
ā¢He has a hard time reading other people's emotions - he didn't really hold account with Greta's feelings
ā¢He has alot of fantasy or imagination (whatever you'd like to call it) which makes him less able to tell a difference between reality - he lives in his own "world" where he is still a child
ā¢He doesn't like unexpected changes - he was very distraught when his doll broke
ā¢He has trouble communicating - he let the doll "speak" for him
ā¢He has trouble communicating in big groups or with new people - he didn't like it when Cole suddenly showed up. Mainly because he was being an ass to Greta, but you get the point
ā¢He has a hard time showing empathy to others, mainly thinking about himself - he didn't really think about how Greta would think of his "crush" on her, he just focused on his own perspective on it
Mmmmyesss
While some of these can be explained away in other ways besides autism, I just love how his father refers to him as "odd". That's my biggest tell lol.
Brahms Heelshire is the perfect man.
Big and hairy and dirty, chaotic, too much and too little, desperate, a puppy. Yeah he'll snap a fucker's neck, but if you tell him to sit like a good boy in that big assertive voice of yours? Ohhh man his ass is hitting the floor, eyes begging for what he knows you're gonna do to him next. He's been such a good boy today, and you always treat him so good
He's perverted and definitely has kinks of his own, and he'll be more than happy to let you try out anything under the sun. This man doesn't care. There's something in his head that can't comprehend the morals or the shame of it, but he certainly knows the pleasure
And those times you overstim him? He'll be whining and sobbing into your chest - begging for it to stop, but the second you even try to pull away he's having a hissy fit
Dont even get me started on how goddamn touch starved he is. The man has lived his whole life with basically nobody but his parents - every touch is like fire and he cannot get enough. He needs it like he needs air
Which also makes him very clingy - he'll hang onto you for hours, refusing to let you get up while he smothers you in kisses
I never thought this would be my first post in the tag, but the situation calls for it.
Recently, someone made a post ārankingā blogs in a tier list, needlessly hating on other writers. I say ārankingā because, in my opinion, itās just an excuse to spread hate and criticise writers for not catering to their personal tastes. This is unacceptable.
I know what itās like to put your writing out there. I was previously known as @corruptcobra but Iāve made this blog for a fresh start. I know I havenāt written anything for the batfam, but Iāve been in this fandom for years as a reader and I want to join as a writer. Posts like that ātier listā discourage others from writing and discourage people from joining the fandom altogether.
Iām fed up of negativity. So Iāve decided to share what I personally love about some of the writers featured in that post, along with ones who werenāt featured, because they are people I have been a fan of for a long time and they deserve their flowers!
Some blogs in that post arenāt in this list because Iām not familiar with their work, so if you are, or if you have any compliments to give anyone else, share the love in the comments or reblogs!!!!! FUCK THE NEGATIVITY!!!!!
@acid-ixx - Oh my god where to even START!! Their writing is so descriptive and full of emotion, and all of their fics have such detailed lore, I just hope I can write such in-depth stories! no pain, no gain, right? is a personal fave of mine, please continue it!!!! Also i dont even read much omegaverse but mark me, my alpha (i think itās called that, sorry if its wrong!!) is an exception it is chefās kiss fr
@jade-zzz - I LOVE EVERYTHING. STRAIGHT UP. I dont even have words. Her characterisation is PERFECT and her emotional description is BRILLIANT. Honestly, everything of hers is a personal favourite. Jade, I worship your writing fr you are slaying the game
@luludeluluramblings - Iām noticing a theme here, because once again Iām struggling to put my love into words. OMGWWT is a crack MASTERPIECE. Itās funny, but its also fluffy, romantic, and š you know what else š. Honestly its such an all-round brilliant series. Also the Smalltown!Reader series!! Another thing that I love is how you give each reader different personalities and you show it through the writing, itās made me think of how to write my readers differently!
@thecorefrisk - not featured in the original post, but Iām tagging you bc you are one of my faves!!!! I reread your work all the time, youāre so TALENTED!! I love the psychological aspect of your writing, thereās such an in-depth exploration into the batfamās yandere mindset, it gives readers a deep understanding of the characters and it makes for such engaging reading!! And for anyone looking for new ideas, theyāve made posts of reader ideas to feature in your fics, which is amazing!!
@blughxreader - an amazing writer AND ARTIST!!!! Personal faves are the purge series and their omegaverse stuff too!! And my personal fave art? ALL OF THEM. Sadly theyāre not active but do check their stuff out if you havenāt!!
@yandere-daydreams - If you want psychological horror, DAYDREAMS IS THE PERSON FOR YOU!!!! Theyāre writing is so visceral, honestly my heart is in my mouth when Iām reading their work. But thatās a good thing!! Daydreams, youāve really mastered the horror genre. I admire the atmosphere and tension you create in your writing, and I aspire to write the way you do. Please give me just one percent of your talent š
@cloudy-strawberry - Your yandere Dick Grayson is SO GOOD!!!!! YES HE IS CUDDLY AND DELUSIONAL YOU ARE SO RIGHT!!! And I am SO EXCITED FOR THE SLASHER AU. I AM VIBRATING WITH EXCITEMENT. I also have an idea for it, would you be up for a suggestion?? Please let me know!!!!
@maliciouscottonball - Platonic yandere EXPERT OVER HERE!!!! Two words: Scheduling Agreement. What a masterpiece. Also the Free Comic Book Day piece, BC and Larval made me laugh so hard! I also love Fruit as a Luxury! Itās an aspect about Jason I never thought about, it makes complete sense! You have such a great understanding of the batfam, and you always give each member their own spotlight, I love it!!
@l0vergirls - Not mentioned in original post, but theyāre the one who got me into yandere batfam in the first place!!!! Their batfam series hooked me in and I love how they write the caring side, as well as the batboys bickering over darling lmao. Thank you for introducing me to this brilliant fandom!!
@calamitys-posts - Tag isnāt working for some reason? Her Infantilism series is BRILLIANT. And she does obsession levels of each batfam member at the end, which is a really cool idea!! I eagerly wait for the next chapter!!
@zippysmusings - Now I donāt usually read superman stuff, but their superbat fic is an exception. Only one chapter out and I am already HOOKED. Itās called Empty Nesters, and I LOVE the mindset of the older!superbat, needing someone to take care of, needing a sense of family. I am so excited to read more!!
@ollyissleepy - Writes male readers, and writes them BEAUTIFULLY. Iām so excited every time you post!! Wildflowers of the Wayne Manor and Pack Members are EXQUISITE. Just reading your writing motivates me and I hope I can write as good as you!
@maicenitas - Iāve only recently discovered your writing, but I already love it! Your post about yandere Dick Grayson is PEAK!! Your description of his yandere mindset is so well-rounded and shows such a deep understanding of him, I canāt wait for the rest of the batfam!!!
@stormy-tenderheart - Another tag not working sorry! I read your yandere Jason stuff all the time!!!!! Iām starting to think we share the same braincells because I agree with literally everything you say about him. JASON LOVERS UNITE ā
LETS SHARE THE LOVE EVERYONE!!!! I SAY AGAIN: FUCK THE NEGATIVITY!!!!
being a writer is
50% daydreaming about plots and writing
50% procrastinating/suffering during the actual writing process
Sigh. At least I have this.
Bad writing is great!!!!
Bad writing means you took the time to write something, you, a real human being. It means you created something! And you have the awareness to see that there's room for improvement, too!!!
Bad writing is wonderful!!! Bad writing is a platform from which you can build your masterpiece! Bad writing is the backbone of good writing!
Give yourself permission to write badly. No, actually- give yourself permission to write something TERRIBLE. Give yourself permission to write such drivel that you can barely read it.
Nothing comes out a masterpiece the first time!! You think Isaac Asimov never wrote a total stinker he had to rebuild from the ground up? You think Jules Verne never wrote utter slop for a first draft?
WRITE SOMETHING AWFUL!!! Write something so bad you cringe about it years later!!! And then when that's done, write some more!!!!!
