imagining one 'bad ending' for your muse with barton would include him becoming so attached to your muse that he wants to take care of them like a doll (i.e. washing their body meticulously, from the point where barton gently runs a comb through every strand of hair of your muses while washing it and he washes their feet individually, to him giving them food meant to help them become 'big and strong' or at least stronger BUT with the added condition that they get some anti-depressants mixed in their food if their situation dawns on them + makes them feel despair, so they're basically... yeah, drugged) and suddenly, they barely have any privacy as barton takes them everywhere + he is convinced that they are the epitome of perfect, they just need someone to look after them because they 'don't do enough' for themselves and from there — he makes sure that they are dependent on him for virtually everything, but what makes this even more twisted is that barton doesn't see how this is a bad thing and truly believes that they are 'better' than they've ever been BC of him, so he's only doing what's needed for them as they neglected themselves in the past and yeahhh. this bad ending is basically like his control kink turned up to the max to a terrifying level 🫠🫠
summary: he just wants to be closer to you. even if it means he has to about the true reason why he had approached you.
imagine being a very normal college sophomore working in a convenience store then suddenly, on your shift during the christmas. there is a drop dead gorgeous man that resembles to a golden retriever entered the store.
he entered the store... bawling his eyes out. yes. that's right. a grown ass man, all snotty and teary while he looked for the tissues as he sobbed.
it's not a secret that you were worried. worried for this man, why is he crying in the first place? did he get dumped or something?
but you has no right to voice it out. after all, you were just a convenience store worker, and he is your customer. you just need to do your job and he can already go to his merry way.
but then, while you ringing up his items. the man suddenly spoke, which honestly surprises you. because of two things.
first is that you didn't expected him to talk to you first. second is the fact that he is drop dead gorgeous. what the heck? what the heck is up with that jawline? that eyelids? that nose- ehem. it's really a good thing that you are good when it comes on controlling your emotions.
so, while you were busy with the things he bought. you listened to his story and apparently, he got dumped by his girlfriend. and he doesn't have any idea on what to do to the restaurant that he reserved for their second monthsary.
you couldn't help but to look at him in disbelief. but then, an idea popped into your mind that surprised even yourself.
“ uhm... do you want me to go with you? ”
you were hesitant. you will be lucky if he only laughed it off- so you readied yourself to listen to his statement of disbelief.
but then, you heard his voice. full of expectation and excitement as he asked you if you really meant it. looking at his face, your eyes widened.
he was still teary, his eyes were puffy and his nose was still runny, that's for sure. but the sight of genuine excitement and that bright expression made you falter.
what the heck was that...? humans.... are also capable of making that kind of expression?
as you avoided his gaze, you missed the way the warmth on his eyes disappeared. the excitement changed into a twisted sense of satisfaction.
he knew it. when he saw you adopting a puppy you've seen on the side of the road. that was the moment yandere crybaby realized that you are really kind.
you are really kind to the point that you can't ignore anyone in need.
that's why he made this facade. a man who got dumped on the christmas and doesn't know what to do with the restaurant he reserved for his girlfriend despite of being single.
it was a gamble. because he doesn't know if you'll take the bait. but as you offered to go with him instead, yandere crybaby couldn't help but to smile behind the tissue paper as he wiped his nose.
he got you. and he will keep this act until you will be comfortable enough to call him yours.
“ you really can't turn away from a pathetic soul in need, can you, my sweet little ( name )? ”
just found out about there being an official theory of the stages of manipulation that was made by john holland and OOF... its the way that barton does three of these with his own children, as i once again remind you all that barron is not a good person, BUT he is also not an entirely evil person — though he does manipulate people and the whole 'after trust is gained, manipulators attempt to make the person feel helpless by limiting their interactions with the outside world' is (unfortunately) a classic barton move as his relationship with laurent was as you all may know NOT good already but this man definitely lied to laurent about things he heard his underlings say about him when they think he's not listening / when they're alone to isolate him + to make them seem like the 'bad guy' while he's the one trying to 'defend his honor' and that is just one example of how he has manipulated someone. thus... all i have to say is, once more:
Hello, hey, hi -- I haven't been here in a hot minute but please accept this piece that fills in the lore of Aizen's and Nelliel's initial meeting. Hopefully it actually makes some sense.
cw: mentions of cannabilism, injury, violence and manipulation.
Again, they flee.
Across the bone-white sands of Hueco Mundo’s unforgiving environment. Residents wander the monochromatic landscape with little more than gnawing hunger for company, never to be truly satiated. Regression and death stalk in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to ambush those unfortunate souls caught unawares, seldom do they hunger.
How many Hollow colonies had been laid to waste by something bigger, desperate to avoid predation’s jaws?
How often had it been simply because they could?
Her metamorphosis from a plus to a vasto lorde remains elusive to her memory. All she can say with certainty is that she is no different from any other Hollow in origin; she had hunted, eviscerated, devoured, been driven by primal instinct that consumed them all. Until somehow, she’d reached whatever invisible criterion it was that had allowed her to emerge victorious from the battle for dominance and later reclaim her capacity for reason. Her humanity. And with it an unwavering resolve that she wouldn’t perpetuate the cruelty that underpinned their world.
Alas, the law of the jungle remained indifferent to her firm resolve.
Her solitude came to an end after she met a certain Adjuchas. She is unable to pinpoint the exact moment that Dondochakka Birstanne’s presence became permanent in her life, nor the reason he’d been compelled to follow her in the first place. It hardly mattered; his companionship was welcome, easing the incessant hunger. Over the years that followed traversing the sands together, he became more familia– No. He became family.
Again, she senses it.
The ominous pressure that typically sat on the fringe of her perception. Except this time it draws closer, imposing, backing them into a corner. Lone figure appears in her peripheral vision and she can not help but notice the flourish with which he carries himself, arms outstretched as though a performer ready to greet their audience of one. ❝You’ve noticed me, señorita, I’d be wounded if you hadn’t.❞ A brief pause, as though allowing time for applause, before: ❝Now show me what it was that made you worth watching for days.❞ With that, her window of opportunity to retreat is well and truly closed, no option but to yield to the inevitable.
An attack is launched before she is afforded chance to think, triggering instinct and experience to kick in resulting in a narrow miss. There is no relenting; another comes followed by another in quick succession. Each strike intending to punish hesitation, test her endurance, force her hand and abandon the restraint that holds her back. Each time she moves defensively as opposed to offensively: deflecting, evading, redirecting, retaliating when necessity leaves her no alternative.
Alas, the pressure the other exerts is swift to take its toll; reflexes dull as movement feels akin to struggling through molasses, limbs are saddled with an unusual weight, lagging for just a fraction too long. That's all it takes for an increasing number of strikes to hit their mark split seconds before she is afflicted by another searing of pain.
❝Tell me señorita, when will you stop pretending that you are a lamb?❞
And still, her grasp on her restraint remains firm. For a moment, there is stillness, one that is brought to a close by the slow, amused smile that unfurls across his lips.
❝No? Then perhaps I haven’t given you a reason to show me your teeth, señorita.❞
Air shifts and distorts as spiritual pressure is drawn inward, condensed and compressed into a concentrated sphere. The all too familiar hallmarks of a cero, the promise of destructive force. And yet, when it surges towards her she does not move, she braces before absorbing its sheer density, intertwines it with her own and returns it to its sender with additional bite. Alas, not even Cero Doble, which has maneuvered her out of a tight spot more than once, grants her much of a reprieve.
Metallic tang pools in her mouth, breathing becomes ragged, legs threaten to buckle and muscle rallies against movement, as exhaustion begins to settle upon her. Her sheer will holds it in abeyance, just about holding her upright, but there’s only so much longer that will can hold.
❝That will suffice.❞
The second thing she hears Aizen Sosuke utter is an apology for them having met in such unpleasant circumstances. Instincts murmur that she has no reason to trust him and yet, just now, he’d intervened for no apparent benefit to himself. Not that her wariness seems to deter him, he continues observing that her behaviour is unusual and then goes on to speak of ideals that align with her own and , despite her suspicion, she would be remiss if she did not recognise that they brush much closer to Nelliel’s own than she expected.
He speaks of bringing stability and structure to their world rather than maintaining the current ethos that thrums beneath the sands. A world where survival was not secured at the expense of another, where less evolved brethren were not condemned to build the foundation of another’s strength.
To her, he wasn’t telling her she had to accept a world where strength was the only currency that held any value, he was offering a solution to the only system she’s known, and the cruelty that came with it. After very recent events freshly imprinted upon her memory his offer was difficult to dismiss.
And so, when he’d made to leave she had been compelled to follow and Dondochakka had followed still behind her. His honeyed tones do not address her again until they reach the fortress that is Las Noches.
Price is a horrible person to raise a child with. You have a little girl together, barely a few months into being four, and she eats perfectly healthy. You make everything homemade from apple sauce to curry, using only the highest quality ingredients you can get your hands on. And that’s exactly how Price wants it.
“All those preservatives are bad for the body, yeah?” Price will say, bouncing your daughter in his arms just to hear her squeal. She’s four, she barely understands what food actually is other than something to fill her belly.
But there’s just…..one thing. Your little girl loves boxed mac. She doesn’t get it often, maybe once every month or two. And sure it looks like wet cardboard but she eats it and is happy, and every parent knows that no matter how much you want to feed your child only the best, sometimes you just need that one thing to feed them that is utter junk because you’re sore or tired or just completely at your wit’s end on what to cook.
And Price hates it. Hates it with the same passion that he hates loud bangs and people driving like idiots on the road. He gives the boxes to neighbors, to food banks, anywhere but in your cabinets and you actually have to resort to hiding them in a shoebox in your closet like you’re a child with a stolen toy.
You find a way to sneak it in, your daughter loves it, your husband hates it.
Until one day he takes baby to his mom’s and comes back looking entirely too pleased with himself while she’s all wide eyed with smears of cheese on the corners of her mouth. Your heart sinks into your stomach and then all the way down to your feet before she even speaks. And when she does she goes on for what feels like forever about how Nana had made her fresh mac and cheese and it was so yummy!
You’re staring at Price, he’s smiling back. You both know you’re fucked now because you have the one child in the world who prefers actual food over cheap garbage and there is no way to undo what he just did. She’s never going to eat boxed mac anymore now that’s she had the homemade alternative.
Price is happy, your daughter is happy, and you’re contemplating keying the new paint on his precious motorcycle.
Hello! May I have a hatchling with the horns addon for Valentino from Hazbin Hotel please?
Thank you, and I hope you have a great day!/gen
We are having a great day! Please note we kinda made this val an ass to keep it in character, if that's triggering then we deeply apologize :(
also sorry this took a bit! motivation sucks rn :((
Please note your Hatchling may not form exactly the same as the pack, and that is okay.
WARNING! This pack may contain sensitive topics such as sex, sex work, slurs, swears, manipulation, violence, and drug use. Any and all harmful actions portrayed or mentioned in this pack are not supported by the den. Proceed with caution!
Fandoms: Dark, sexual media of most kinds; Medias with toxic fanbases; Hazbin Hotel/Helluva boss, likes seeing himself and getting gossip on the other demons; TCOAAL; Minecraft,; DND; Beastars, and he refuses to tell anyone; Beauty and the beast, thinks Gaston deserved at least one chance, also will refuse to tell anyone; Black Mirror; 13 Reasons Why; South Park; Family Guy; 28 Days Later; Adventure Time, will refuse to tell anyone; American Horror Story; Deadpool; A lot of Batman media; The Big Bang Theory; Mouthwashing; etc.
Online frequency: Almost constantly online, may it be on social media or playing a game or posting something. If not actively online, probably filming something for the studio, doing some kinda drugs, or having sex with someone.
Favorite content creators: CCs cancelled for sexual abuse/harassment, Wilbur Soot, James Charles, Shane Dawson, PopularMMOs (supports Pat's recovery 100% despite own drug use), SkyDoesMinecraft, etc.
Assets:
(credits in links)
Tumblr Posts/Reposts: smut text posts he likes with the tag "#might make this a film" (repost), advertisements for the Vs and their content (post/repost), drama about content creators (repost), rants about being annoyed with his workers/Angel (post), half-censored NSFT art with either a personal site (Patreon, OF, etc.) or something less censored (Twitter, Bluesky, etc.) saying to click for the full piece (post), Fanart of himself (post/repost)
(Full text in alt)
Here is a letter sent in July 2023 from my grandmother to, supposedly, my mother who lives with me. If you didn't know my grandmother, this might look like a somewhat gentle admonishment for youthful aggression and a reminder that she is accepting of the boundaries set by me. (And, supposedly, a birthday card for my mom) If you do know her, I'm sorry.
DARVO is an acronym that stands for "Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender".
Wikipedia defines the steps as this:
DARVO is a tactic used by a perpetrator to avoid accountability for their actions.[5] As the acronym suggests, DARVO commonly involves these steps:
The perpetrator denies the harm or abuse ever took place.[6]
When confronted with evidence, the perpetrator then attacks the person that they had harmed, or are still harming. The attacker may also attack the victim's family or friends.[7]
Finally, the perpetrator claims that they were or are actually the victim in the situation, thus reversing the positions of victim and offender.[2][4] It often involves not just playing the victim but also victim blaming.[3]
Now, this letter doesn't have all the hallmarks of my grandmother's never ending process of dodging any accountability or responsibility for her abuse or the horrible shit she's let others do to her children, but it does include some of the key ones that she's used over the years. Let's break it down.
Blue Arrow: A little jab at my last and final text sent to her that told her to "rot in hell". No mention of the reason I said that to her, which was because she randomly accused my mother of "abusing" her adult friend (who later killed herself because she was deeply unwell mentally and had nothing at all to do with my mother existing) when my mother was maybe 7 years old at the time and said friend was, in fact, bullying my mother with encouragement from my grandmother. Which is a classic, if not buck-wild way of twisting her abuse around on the actual victim.
Pink Arrow: My grandmother has always claimed to be the most goodest, loving, caring, calm, compassionate, understanding, Buddha incarnate person in the entire world. She has never been that person. In fact, most of the time she'd bring up this lie right after writing a 12 page furious letter about how you'd failed to read her mind (because, reader, she did NOT communicate in any earthly way) and then still bring it up angrily 20 something years later. But, god forbid you ever express any anger at her for any of her actions (like how she gave her child to her own abuser to abuse). She will transform into Jesus himself in front of you, blood on her palms and cheek turned as if she had not already smacked the shit out of you.
Green Arrow: Weird thing to say when all I've done is, you know, remove myself from her reach... while she continues to try to claw her way back in constantly for years. But, yes, she's learned to be so good at removing herself emotionally in her old age. She's doing such a good job of this by sending yearly ranty letters.
Purple Arrow: Sure, it's a birthday card for my mom. I mean, I it's a guess a throw-away birthday line? But how else would she keep her claws in my mother's back?
Red Arrow: "ZERO CONTACT!!" she writes... in a letter sent to us. Letter after letter after letter is, in fact, a form of contact. Speaking to me in said letters--sorry, I mean a birthday card for my mother no really--is, in fact, a form of contact. She is not honoring my wishes in any form, but especially by not rotting in hell.
So, sometimes DARVO is pretty straight forward. It's usually easier to see it much later on when you're finally out of their grasp. But once you learn to recognize some of the subtle techniques, you get better at noticing the cruelty inside otherwise mild, calm, even loving words.
