#end-to-end testing and regression testing

[webomates]

End-to-End Testing vs Regression Testing

Software testing is a crucial step in ensuring an application’s reliability and functionality. As you increase test coverage, the quality of your application testing will increase. Regression testing and end-to-end testing focus on several testing facets to guarantee complete end-user satisfaction.

While End-to-End Testing focuses on the testing of the entire user flow and integrated components, Regression Testing targets specific functionalities and validates the impact of code changes. You need to understand their differences to implement an effective testing strategy.

Key Differences

When do you need End-to-End Testing?

Pro Tip: Webomates offers code coverage as an optional add-on to AI test automation. Follow these 8 best practices to master end-to-end testing to ensure a seamless user experience and better product quality.

When do you need Regression Testing?

Regression testing is more like a time traveler — traversing across different versions of the application, ensuring that the previous application functionalities are still preserved today even after new changes.

Pro Tip: The process of regression testing includes selecting the right test cases, and determining the testing frequency and types of regression required to be carried out. Webomates helps you scale up by getting build checks done via its 3 types of regression testing services that provide the maximum quality.

How can Webomates Help?

Regression testing and end-to-end testing both play crucial roles in assuring a seamless and error-free user experience, all while protecting your application against potential vulnerabilities.

As a cutting-edge cloud-based Testing as a Service platform, Webomates uses AI to reimagine the testing process. The patented tool like AI Test Strategy and Creator tool help you in devising a well-rounded test strategy for the software. By creating and automating the appropriate test cases, their AI Modeller engine can help you cut the human work required to write or maintain the test suite by more than 50%.

To find out more about what Webomates Intelligent Testing services can do for your business, get In touch with us today. Please click here and schedule a demo, or reach out to us at info@webomates.com

[statistical-distr-of-polls]

just spent three hours looking for proper statistical tests to do only to come up with my original idea again #hellishexperience

[p2ii-agere]

My family is gonna be out tomorrow :DD. I think I'm gonna try doing some little kid stuff while they're gone.

It's the first time I've though of doing anything like this, so I'm kinda nervous (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）

Anyone get any tips for someone just trying this whole thing out for the first time? And are unsure if they'll even like it/if it works for them?

I don't have any gear but I have younger sisters with lots of toys and stuff I can borrow. And I'll be completely by myself, If that helps any :o

[chronic-conjuring]

Warning: this is a bit of a rant but..

Honestly the fact that anyone tries to argue otherwise is insanely stupid imo. It has ALWAYS been extremely clear that Roddenberry wasn’t only far ahead of his time but also very aware of the time in which he lived.

The only reason TOS didn’t have openly gay characters is because he knew it’d get his show taken off air and felt that he had enough of other very important messages to wait for the right time for that. Honestly I have a personal theory that all that subtext and intense queer undertones between Kirk and Spock were an attempt to covertly portray them as a couple. I haven’t seen anyone talk about that in-depth as of yet but I’m sure someone has done a deep dive on it. The subtext and energy between them feels to well poised to be a completely incidental theme especially since Gene knew people were writing gay fanfic of them and wanted that content.

I cannot express how much I despise Rick Berman’s interference with my favorite Star Trek series. I feel that they could’ve been so much better in so many ways if he could’ve just been kicked to the curb or at least consistently overruled like he deserved. I don’t particularly care that he was there to “ensure” the shows got aired without too much controversy, that man’s very obviously homophobic and pushed back against VERY LOUD AND OBVIOUS INTEREST in there being LGBT characters among the main cast and the audience. Johnathan Frakes ASKED to have Riker be depicted as being at least bisexual by changing his one love interest to identify as a man instead of a woman. Fans ASKED directly for gay characters, practically begged for it with Garak and Bashir, and Roddenberry himself said he wanted to include them BECAUSE IT WAS TIME TO DO SO.

All this is to say, I think Rick Berman might be a major factor in why so many people seem to have this bizarre idea that Star Trek isn’t supposed to be progressive media making commentary on complex social issues. He actively suppressed the voices and depictions of marginalized groups, especially queer representation, and I do genuinely think that was harmful to the show and its fans as well as the progression of LGBT acceptance at large. By trying to appeal to conservatives (why you would even want to with a premise like Star Trek is The Privilege Talking imo) he alienated a large portion of the already existing fan base and then continued to shove us aside in favor of keeping things “palatable enough” or whatever for television. He pandered to an audience that I feel the show wasn’t really meant to speak to, and now that audience seems to insist that older Trek just wasn’t progressive. The fact he succeeded Roddenberry is one of my biggest gripes with the franchise, and I think he actively made those series worse in a lot of ways. Many of which are ABUNDANTLY clear in Voyager imho. Who the Fuck decides to make a character that’s canonically TWO YEARS OLD DATE A 34 YEAR OLD????. I personally don’t really give a fuck that she’s considered an adult and fully grown by her people’s standards, there were better ways to go about that. In fact I found Kes’s relationship with Paris more compelling and less creepy than her relationship with Neelix. The age gap is extremely creepy to me and I personally don’t feel it was ever actually properly addressed (obligatory disclaimer that I have not gotten around to finishing Voyager. It legitimately just isn’t one of my super liked series so far and Chakotay as a character makes me want to throw things at concrete in anger) But it’s stuff like that and the ridiculousness of Seven of Nine’s costume being so tight that Jeri notoriously had problems being able to breathe in it that diminishes some of the intent and core messaging of the show, at least for me personally.

Anyways if you think trek is “too woke” or suddenly progressive you’re kind of stupid as fuck my guy and I’m not convinced we’re ever really paying attention to what media you were consuming. A lot of themes in earlier trek have become more commonly accepted up to present day, of course you’re not gunna look at the episodes that proclaim “Racism Bad” and “Save the Whales” and think of them as being necessarily progressive and radical ideas in our day and age. And guess what!! That’s because the show did its part to normalize that stuff!! Shocker!!

A reminder that Gene Roddenberry's intent of Star Trek was that it was always meant to be a commentary of modern society.

[jonah-miles-smith]

9 Different Types of Software Testing and Their Benefits

In the world of software development, ensuring the quality and reliability of an application is paramount. Software testing plays a vital role in identifying bugs, ensuring functionality, and enhancing the overall user experience. Testing can be done at different stages of development and can take many forms. Each type of testing has its own objectives, processes, and benefits. In this blog, we’ll explore the most common types of software testing and why each is crucial in delivering a high-quality product.

1. Unit Testing

What it is: Unit testing focuses on testing individual units or components of a software application in isolation, typically at the function or method level. Developers often write unit tests as they write the code, making it a proactive approach to catching errors early.

Benefits:

Early Detection of Bugs: Unit tests can catch issues as soon as code is written, making it easier and faster to fix bugs.

Simplifies Code Maintenance: With unit tests, developers can make changes to the code with confidence, knowing that existing functionality is not broken.

Documentation: Unit tests act as documentation for the behavior of individual code components, making it easier for others to understand how a system works.

2. Integration Testing

What it is: Once individual units of code are tested, integration testing ensures that they work together as expected. This type of testing focuses on detecting issues that occur when different components of the software interact.

Benefits:

Identifies Interface Issues: It helps to ensure that the interfaces between different modules or services are functioning correctly.

Early Detection of Integration Problems: Problems like data mismatches, incorrect APIs, or failures in service calls can be identified before they affect the entire system.

Improved Software Design: By testing components together, developers can ensure that the overall system architecture is sound and scalable.

3. System Testing

What it is: System testing evaluates the complete, integrated system as a whole. This testing verifies that the entire application works according to the specified requirements and functions well in all expected environments.

Benefits:

End-to-End Validation: System testing ensures that all parts of the application work together seamlessly, offering a real-world simulation of the software in action.

Comprehensive Coverage: It tests all aspects of the system (performance, security, usability, etc.), ensuring that no part is overlooked.

Ensures Functional and Non-Functional Requirements Are Met: System testing confirms that the software not only works functionally but also meets performance, security, and usability standards.

4. Acceptance Testing

What it is: Acceptance testing is performed to determine whether the software meets the business requirements and if it is ready for deployment. Often performed by QA teams or the client, this test is done before the product is released to the market.

Benefits:

Validates Business Requirements: Ensures that the software delivers what the client or end-users expect and that all features and functionalities align with the business needs.

Reduces the Risk of Rework: By identifying issues early on, acceptance testing helps ensure that the product is ready for use and minimizes the need for costly post-release fixes.

Improves Stakeholder Confidence: Since it focuses on meeting client specifications, it helps in building trust with stakeholders and ensures their satisfaction with the final product.

5. Performance Testing

What it is: Performance testing is conducted to determine how a software application performs under various conditions. It focuses on aspects like speed, responsiveness, scalability, and stability. There are several types of performance testing, including load testing, stress testing, and scalability testing.

Benefits:

Improves User Experience: Ensures that the software can handle high user loads without slowing down or crashing, which directly impacts user satisfaction.

Identifies Bottlenecks: Performance testing helps uncover areas of the software that could cause slowdowns, allowing developers to optimize performance before it becomes an issue.

Scalability Insights: Helps teams understand how well the software can handle increasing volumes of data or users, and allows them to plan for future growth.

6. Security Testing

What it is: Security testing is designed to find vulnerabilities in the software application that could be exploited by hackers or malicious users. This includes testing for issues like SQL injection, cross-site scripting (XSS), data breaches, and authentication flaws.

Benefits:

Protects Sensitive Data: Ensures that sensitive user data (such as personal details, credit card information, etc.) is secure and not susceptible to cyberattacks.

Compliance with Regulations: Many industries have strict regulatory standards (e.g., GDPR, HIPAA) regarding data security, and security testing helps ensure compliance.

Prevents Security Breaches: By proactively identifying vulnerabilities, security testing can prevent data leaks, fraud, or other security breaches that could damage the company’s reputation or finances.

7. Usability Testing

What it is: Usability testing evaluates how user-friendly and intuitive a software application is. This type of testing focuses on ensuring that the product is easy to navigate and that users can interact with it efficiently.

Benefits:

Improved User Experience: Helps identify interface issues that may confuse or frustrate users, allowing teams to make the software more intuitive.

Better Customer Retention: A well-designed, user-friendly product is more likely to satisfy users and encourage them to continue using the software.

Increased Conversion Rates: A seamless user experience can lead to higher engagement, more sign-ups, and ultimately more conversions or sales.

8. Regression Testing

What it is: Regression testing ensures that new code changes (such as bug fixes, enhancements, or feature additions) haven’t unintentionally affected the existing functionality of the software. It’s typically done after each update or release.

Benefits:

Prevents New Bugs: Ensures that new code doesn't break previously working features, which is crucial as the software evolves over time.

Maintains Software Stability: Regression testing helps maintain the stability of the system by verifying that old functionality continues to work as expected.

Speeds Up Release Cycles: Automated regression tests can quickly check for issues, reducing the time needed for quality assurance and speeding up the release cycle.

9. Smoke Testing

What it is: Smoke testing, also known as "build verification testing," is a preliminary test to check the basic functionality of a software build. It’s like a "quick check" to ensure that the critical parts of the software work before deeper testing is performed.

Benefits:

Quick Feedback: Provides immediate feedback on whether the latest build is stable enough to proceed with further testing.

Reduces Time and Cost: Helps to catch fundamental issues early in the development cycle, preventing wasted time on testing broken builds.

Ensures Build Quality: It ensures that the most crucial features (e.g., login, key workflows) are functioning correctly before testing begins.

Conclusion

Software testing is an essential component of the development lifecycle, ensuring that applications are not only functional but also secure, efficient, and user-friendly. Each type of testing serves a unique purpose and brings its own set of benefits, from identifying small bugs in individual components to ensuring the overall performance and security of the application.

By implementing various types of testing at different stages of development, software teams can significantly reduce the risk of errors and deliver a more reliable, high-quality product to end-users. Whether you're a developer, QA engineer, or project manager, understanding the importance of diverse testing strategies is key to successful software delivery.

[rika-mmendmethings]

Baby Boss-Man (or Boss Baby?) l Sylus

Summary: One misfire of another one of Philip's odd inventions and Sylus is aged back to a five-year-old bundle of chaos version of himself. But as you try to survive his oversized cuteness, you can't help but catch baby fever. When the antidote arrives, you're sure that you'll be rid of those thoughts. The only difference is that Sylus intends to make them real.

Warning(s): Tooth-rotting fluff, baby fever, temporary age regression, written with female reader in mind, might die from the cute aggression you get from five-year-old Sylus, short and sweet, suggestive at the end, cheesy, kissing, pet names like kitten used.

Word count: 2.6k

Now playing: Honeypie by JAWNY

Notes: Based on this request. I'm a bit late but as promised here it is. I felt like I was writing Feline Hexes all over again because the fluff surely measured up to that one. Had me rolling in the feels. Okay enough yapping, hope y'all enjoy it especially you bestie @sylusgirlie7 ♥

You had accompanied Sylus to the Odd Workshop since you needed to have your hunter weapon modified anyway. Flashing a polite smile at Philip in greeting, you handed over your gun for him to begin his work. You took a seat nearby, exchanging idle conversation with Philip while keeping an eye on Sylus from your periphery as he wandered around the workshop, poking at things with curious fingers.

Once Philip completed the modification, you tested your weapon and hummed in satisfaction — the result was flawless. Just as you were about to thank him, a loud buzz shattered the eerie quiet that usually hung in the air.

You whipped your head around, eyes scanning for Sylus, but he was nowhere in sight. Alarmed, you called out, “Sylus?”

“Yeah?” came a small, chirpy voice.

Your gaze dropped to a heap of familiar-looking clothes on the floor. You gasped when a tuft of white hair peeked out from beneath them. Wide, crimson, doe-like eyes stared up at you — and in a shocking moment of realization, you understood: it was Sylus. Your boyfriend. But now, in the body of a five-year-old.

“Help!” he squeaked, little arms flailing beneath the pile of oversized clothing. “I’m stuck!”

You quickly bent down and freed him, lifting his tiny form out of the tangled garments — leaving behind his shoes, belt, and pants, which were now comically too large for him. The shirt hung from his frame like a cloak, sleeves completely swallowing his arms. Despite the confusion, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Gently, you wrapped the lower half of his shirt around his legs and rolled up the sleeves, messily tying it together to make it wearable. You cradled him in your arms, cocooned in his own shirt.

Philip approached, his face sheepish as his eyes flicked between the smoldering wreckage of a device on the floor and the now miniaturized Sylus in your arms. You could practically see steam rising from Sylus’s tiny ears in outrage.

Scratching the back of his neck, Philip offered a half-hearted explanation, “That was... um, my latest invention. I created a fluid designed to revert a plant to its seed form — or a butterfly back to a caterpillar. I didn’t realize the jet injector would actually work on humans too…heh.”

Philip’s words only seemed to further ignite Sylus’s temper. You noticed the telltale shimmer of his Evol — the familiar red energy crackling around his tiny form, pulsing with irritation. You gently patted his head, offering what little comfort you could, then set him carefully on his feet, telling him to go somewhere so as to not risk the chances of Philip being evaporated. Sylus reluctantly agreed and trotted away after promising to not touch anything else. 

You turned back to Philip, exhaling a slow breath. “The longer he stays like this, the angrier he gets,” you said. “Do you have anything that can reverse the effect?”

Philip tapped his chin thoughtfully, eyes drifting toward the remnants of his failed invention. “Nothing at the moment,” he admitted. “But I have been developing a counter-agent — something to reverse the regression effect. I’ve got a few prototypes I can begin testing right away. If I manage to create a viable solution, I’ll have Luke and Kieran deliver it to you.”

“How long do you think that’ll take?” you asked, brow furrowed.

“Give me five, maybe six hours,” he replied. “I’ll work as quickly as I can.”

You nodded in understanding. Five to six hours with a miniaturized Sylus… manageable. Hopefully.

After exchanging a few more words with Philip — mostly warnings and a half-hearted apology from his side — you turned to look for your pint-sized lover. What greeted you nearly made you choke on a laugh.

You had turned your back for five minutes.

He’s drawn an elaborate chalk mural on the wall featuring Philip as a monster and you as a superhero wielding a gun of justice.

Philip stares at it.

"...He’s not wrong," you say, your cheeks hurting from smiling so hard at his antics. Philip just sighs, returning inside to work on the prototype before bidding you goodbye.

You made your way over to your tiny lover, who immediately turned around with an eager gleam in his crimson eyes. He patted the wall’s surface with one small hand, proudly trying to divert your attention to what he clearly deemed a masterpiece. You couldn’t help but smile as you pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of his soft white hair, lifting him easily into your arms before praising him for his creation, watching as his ears turn slightly pinkish. 

The walk back to his mansion was surprisingly short, not because of the distance, but because of the constant stream of animated chatter coming from Sylus. You hum and respond once in a while, eyes locked on his round face. You’d often wondered what Sylus had been like as a child since he didn’t really have any childhood photos or any sweet memories of those sorts. You once even assumed that he’d had probably been an overall aloof child considering his normal nature. 

But clearly you were mistaken because little Sylus was far from indifferent. He was shorter, chubbier and a total chatterbox with full energy. He kept pressing his tiny palms against your cheeks, forcing your attention to remain on him rather than on the passing scenery. Something about it stirred a deep, unfamiliar sense of affection within you — maternal, perhaps, or simply overwhelming tenderness.

“Whatcha thinking?” He asked, peering up at you from beneath long ivory lashes. 

“I’m thinking…” you began as you stepped into the mansion and carefully kicked off your shoes, mindful not to jostle him, “I could have five little yous running around and still never get tired.”

Sylus giggled, and the sound was so sweet — so utterly uncharacteristic of the man you knew — that it made your heart swell. You cooed at him in response, smiling as his ears turned pink once again. It struck you then — he must have always gotten shy when praised by someone he loved.

You set him down gently and made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water for him. As you filled it, you called out, “Luke? Kieran?”

The twins appeared a second later, popping their heads out from behind a wall in perfect sync before strolling over to you. They leaned casually on the dining table, voices overlapping as they spoke in unison.

“Yes, Missus?”

You handed Sylus the water and turned back to them. “If you get a call from Philip this evening, go to the Odd Workshop and collect whatever he gives you.”

The two exchanged glances and nodded but still asked, “What for, Missus?”

“Sylus turned into the five-year-old version of himself as a result of playing with one of Philip’s peculiar inventions. Philip will be creating a counter-agent to reverse that effect by evening. So, you’ll be picking it up from his place.”

The twins looked at you like you grew two heads before sharing a subtle glance with each other. Their gazes followed you as you walked over to little Sylus and offered him the glass of water. You heard them gasp from behind you as they saw their miniaturized boss-man.

“No gin fizz?” Little Sylus asked, his lips forming a small pout. You patted his head twice, making him finish the glass of water before responding, “You’re five, Sylus.”

“Only by body.” He protested half-heartedly, allowing you to walk away toward the kitchen counter. He noticed the twins staring at him, their jaws dropped in disbelief. He shot them a menacing glare that, unfortunately, didn’t carry much weight due to his adorably cute face.

“Do you think boss-man would like uppies?” Luke whispered to Kieran after a moment of silence.

“Try it, and I’ll break your hands.” Sylus threatened, though the menace was undermined by the childish lilt in his voice. The twins zoomed out of the room in response, but it didn’t take long before they returned, each holding one of the plushies you’d collected over time. They also sported silly hats with fans attached to them, which they had somehow managed to get onto Mephisto as well. Waving the plushies in front of little Sylus’ face, Kieran added, “If not uppies, then surely boss-man would like toys?”

Luke furrowed his brow, falling deep into thought. “Is it ‘boss-man’ or ‘baby boss-man’ now?”

“I think the latter. But is ‘baby boss-man’ okay, or should we change it to ‘boss baby,’ like in the movie?” Kieran voiced his own opinion, and the two of them pondered in silence, while Mephisto let out curious caws in the background.

You could see the slight twitch of annoyance in your lover’s brows as you cut up some fruit for him. His expression made it clear he wasn’t exactly amused by their antics. A few moments later, the twins’ yelps filled the room, followed by the sound of Sylus’s evol lifting them off the ground before spinning them in circles. You didn’t need to look back to confirm — his mischievous smirk was practically radiating from the air.

After a few more minutes, you spoke over your shoulder, “Sylus, that’s enough. Put the twins down.”

He slumped his shoulders, his lips pressed in a pout, but despite his reluctance, he complied.

The twins clutched their heads, their faces pale, leaning against each other to steady themselves. They now knew little Sylus’ favorite game, and with that newfound knowledge, they’d be sure to avoid becoming part of it ever again. Meanwhile, Mephisto emitted unintelligible chatters that almost sounded mocking, as if he were laughing at the twins, prompting them to chase after the crow in frustration.

You pick up the fruit bowl you prepared earlier and make your way over to your miniaturized boyfriend. Gently lifting him into your arms, you carry him to his study and settle into the plush sofa, carefully positioning him on your lap. His gaze immediately lands on the fruit bowl, and you already know — he’s not eating a bite unless you feed him yourself.

Without a word, you pick up an apple slice and bring it to his expectant mouth. He takes it without hesitation, and a fond smile spreads across your lips as you watch him chew with slow, deliberate movements, his tiny baby teeth working adorably. Your eyes wander to his miniature hands, chubby fingers, and the soft curve of his cheeks — each feature impossibly cute and heart-melting. A strange warmth blossoms in your chest.

Once he dutifully finishes the fruit, you shower his face with gentle kisses, unable to resist his charm. You take a playful bite of his squishy cheek, and he squirms away with a bashful laugh, flustered but delighted.

You stretch out your legs, adjusting him slightly on your lap just as Mephisto comes swooping into the study. The mechanical crow flaps in with a small box tied to his claws and drops it onto the table. Your eyes flick to the label — it’s a parcel from Philip. The antidote.

Opening the box, you find a syringe filled with a strange-looking fluid. Meanwhile, Sylus is preoccupied with Mephisto, tugging at the poor bird with all the curiosity and strength of a toddler. You gently free the distressed crow from his tiny grasp and let him fly away with a disgruntled caw.

You prepare the syringe, mentally rehearsing how to administer it without making Sylus cry. But to your astonishment, he simply extends his arm, blinking at you calmly like he was born for this moment. You barely suppress the laughter bubbling in your throat as you inject the cure into his arm. Once done, you toss the used materials into the waste bin nearby.

Little Sylus settles back against you, his small head nestled against your chest and his arms resting at his sides. He lets out a soft yawn, eyelids fluttering.

“You must be tired of taking care of me all day, right?” he asks sleepily.

You stroke a hand gently down his back as he drifts closer to sleep, murmuring mostly to yourself, “Tired? Not even a little. Though I’ll admit… I did catch baby fever — and it’s all your fault.” You smile softly and poke his cheek. “You’d look incredibly hot holding our babies, not gonna lie.”

Your eyes begin to grow heavy too, and you decide to let sleep take you — wrapped around this tiny, precious version of him.

But peace is fleeting.

You're rudely jolted awake by a sharp ache in your limbs from the sudden weight pressing into you — and the restless shifting of said weight. You blink your eyes open, groggy and confused, only to find yourself completely unprepared for the sight before you.

Sylus, in all his fully restored, adult glory, is now straddling your lap. And to your utter disbelief — he’s completely naked. The weight of his shirt over your feet confirms that. You keep your eyes fixed on his face, not daring to look anywhere down. 

“Why are you not decent?” You ask, your voice sharp but wavering slightly under the weight of the scene before you.

Sylus doesn’t answer — not directly. Instead, he tilts his head back, a downright  dangerous smirk playing on his lips as he murmurs, “Baby fever, huh?”

Your breath catches, and you struggle to mask the shock on your face. You’d been certain he was asleep last night — small, drowsy, and curled up against your chest — when you muttered those words. Clearly, you were wrong.

Feigning thoughtfulness, he furrows his silver brows, tapping a slender finger thoughtfully against his chin. “Let me see... Was it just my imagination,” he drawls slowly, “or did you actually say something along the lines of how incredibly hot I’d look holding our babies?”

You quickly avert your gaze, face flushing from the neck up, but Sylus isn’t finished. Gently but firmly, he turns your face back toward him with a soft grip on your chin.

“Babies, hmm? Plural, kitten?” His voice is velvet-smooth, full of teasing delight. “My, my… I never realized my sweet girlfriend harbored such passionate little dreams, tucked away in the quiet corners of her heart.”

Mortified, you bring your hands up to cover your face, hoping to hide the vivid shade of red blooming across your cheeks. Your attempts at explanation tumble out as little more than embarrassed babbling — completely incoherent.

Sylus lets out a quiet chuckle as he captures your wrists, gently drawing your hands away from your face and guiding your eyes back to his. His gaze is molten, ruby irises shimmering with a heat that words can’t quite describe — intense, unspoken, and entirely consuming

He presses himself further into your body and you try to not think too much about what is poking your thighs and instead focus on his next words. He clicks his tongue, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know… I really am curious how you'd handle five little versions of me. Perhaps it’s time we put that theory to the test, don’t you think?”

Before you can form a coherent response, you barely register the soft click of the study door locking — courtesy of his evol — followed by the warmth of his hand slipping beneath your shirt.

In the next breath, you're on your back, pressed into the cushions of the sofa, his body hovering over yours with practiced ease. That infuriating, devastatingly attractive smirk curves his lips — one laced with unmistakable intent.

And in his eyes, gleaming with heat and purpose, you see it: he’s done teasing. He’s ready to prove just how serious he is.

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[sassatoru]

Dahlia with String then Burlap plsss

What about him and the reader being lovers in highschool. After his death ,the reader went mad and stuck at the age of 15 when he was still alive. After he got back,he visits her everyday since he believed there is still a way to get his girl back 😭

COME HOME TO ME

pairing. jason todd x reader

warning. angst to fluff, character death + revival, age regression, reader in a psych ward

a/n. i really liked this prompt thank you

“hey baby,” jason whispered, his hand on the glass separating the two of you, oh how he wished he could break this down and take you home. but he knows that you wouldn’t react well to being taken.

you don’t reply, your eyes are staring forward. they’re so dull now, not like the girl he loved when he was younger, his girl.

you’re wearing one of the hoodies he left here for you. you may not recognise his face and voice but you’d never forget the way he smelt, you used to tease him for the pine smell but now it was all you had left of him.

“baby,” jason calls out again, a little louder this time. “come on, doll. look at me, it’s me. it’s jay.” jason wants to cry, he wants you back, he wants you home, his voice is pleading, there’s a lump in his throat when you finally look at him.

you shake your head at him, “you’re not my jay.”

jason feels like he’s dying again, it feels the same. he feels like he’s dying inside, the breath leaving his lungs, eyes closing and he can hear that bomb again. the maniacal laughter of the bastard that killed him, the sound of his skull cracking under the force of the crowbar.

because he’s not really your jay, is he? no, he knows he isn’t. that boy died a long time ago, but jason can be jay, because you need jay, not jason.

“yes i am, baby.” it’s me, doll.

when did baby turn to doll, he wonders. another sign that he’s changed.

“look at me, really look at me.”

and you do you look into his green eyes— green? that can’t be right, jay’s eyes were an icy blue you adored dozing off to. but there is something familiar in the way this man looks at you, like you could massacre cities and he’d still love you.

but he can’t be jay, your jay died.

you shake your head again, turning away from him to curl up on the bed — jason has to remember to say thanks to bruce for getting you somewhere that takes care of you — to hide from him.

“baby don’t go,” he whispers.

this was routine by now, everyday for the last three months he came here. to sit by the glass that separates you from him. and everyday you do the same thing, refuse to believe him.

“baby, don’t you remember me? remember that day we snuck into the theatre, in the roof and took out that part of the ceiling so we could watch? and you said—”

“—we’re like ninjas.”

a smile crosses his lips, and he laughs. your heart flutters and you peek a look at him, only to find his staring right back at you. “hi baby.”

“jay,” you mumble, he nods.

“that’s right, doll. it’s jay.”

“doll?” you ask.

he shrugs, “maybe it’s time for something new.”

“i like it,” you say.

it takes weeks before you’re discharged. the doctors don’t believe the sudden change in you, the hallucinations suddenly gone, you’re not seeing a teenage lover, you don’t believe you’re 15 anymore.

they run their test but nothing wrong comes back. jason takes you home at the end of it all.

it’s different, the way he walks, or talk, the way he stands. so different yet so familiar. he’s bigger, not the scrawny boy you knew, his size triples yours.

he laughs when you mention it to him.

he keeps his distance, trying to keep you comfortable but you want him closer. you want him to hold you, more than anything you want to curl up next to him, letting some corny horror movie you play in the background, you’d jump despite knowing the jump scares are coming, and he’d tease you, promise to keep the monsters away. before he screamed himself, and you laughed, fingers running through his hair.

his hair was different too, still black but he had that white streak in it. you told him you liked it, he gave up on trying to dye it.

he stays with you at night, holding your hand when you wake up from the nightmares of losing him.

it takes months before he holds you, causally like he used to. hands dragging along your hips when he walks past you. he coddles you months later despite your insistence that you can take care of yourself.

you don’t get over the years of your life you lost, but you both have that in common. your life started and ended together. now you get another chance to start again.

jason won’t leave you again. jay won’t let you hurt again.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[rizzanon]

Ages and background info

m.list

Current timeline:

Bruce - 42

Dick - 25

Jason - 20

Cassandra - 20

Tim - 17

regressed!reader - 16

Damian - 11

Alfred - 64

Barbara - 28

Stephanie - 18

Duke - 15

sadly Duke won’t be making an appearance anytime soon because I think he only comes around in the timeline when reader is like 17/18¿? 😔

Background info (Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Jason centered)

You don’t know who your mother is. You were left at the doorstep of Wayne Manor the moment you were born. (don’t ask how she managed to get through Wayne Manor’s cutting edge and state-of-the-art security system..) Bruce took you in and became your parent after getting a paternity test that proved that he is your father. At this time, it was Dick’s first year of being Robin.

You’d be initially taken care of by Alfred during your early years. When Bruce was busy fighting crime or with board meetings at Wayne Enterprises, it was Alfred who rocked you to sleep, tended to your needs, taught you how to read and draw. His soft and steady preference was reader’s anchor in that big, lonely manor.

Growing up, you constantly heard about your father’s brilliance—Bruce Wayne, the untouchable billionaire philanthropist, praised for his endless contributions to Gotham. The public’s expectations for you, his daughter, were impossibly high, and your every achievement was either dismissed as trivial or compared to his legendary feats.

You worked tirelessly to prove yourself worthy of the Wayne name, pouring everything into becoming the perfect daughter. But no matter how hard you tried, there were always people who’d be better than you in certain aspects, you can’t always win, can’t always get the top place. And that was the only thing the public focused on.

It hurt, but you buried the pain, telling yourself to try harder. Because that’s what it meant to be a Wayne—always striving, even when it felt like no one cared. You hoped till the very end that one day, your achievements would actually mean something to your family. To your father.

And mind you, this was before you found out your father was the Batman. And when you did, that’s when you changed trajectories and tried becoming a vigilante just like your father, like your siblings. You took up the mantle of Batgirl at 13, you trained hard, trying to hone your skills. But you weren’t meant for this life of crimefighting. You were always sidelined, and at every moment, it felt like your family was waiting for you to fail badly, so that they’d have a reason to prevent you from picking up the mask ever again. You could never be good enough, strong enough like your family. But you still pushed through, tried to prove yourself, and that was ultimately the cause of your demise.

When Dick was still in his pre-teens, I would think that he liked the idea of having a baby sister. Whenever he wasn’t off at school or out being Robin, he’d always come and play with you. But as he grew older, his teenage years, Dick would spent less and less time around the manor, and more time with his friends and the Teen Titans. He’d be consumed more and more by his missions and bonds with his teammates.

At first, you didn’t mind of course. He was your big brother. He always promised to make it up to you, he’d always promise to come back. But as the days stretched into weeks, and then months, his time spent with her became shorter, and his attention became more divided. He still loved you of course—he always tried making that clear—but his life was no longer centered around the manor, around Gotham. And by extension, that meant you too.

But that changes when you find out about your family being vigilantes. You’d feel betrayed at first upon finding out, especially because they hid this from you for so long, and if you hadn’t found out when you did, you doubt they’d even tell you.

And that makes you want to prove yourself to the family, and that’s what makes you pick up the mask and become a vigilante as well. Dick was definitely against this, and that’s what initially causes your relationship to strain with him. After all, this was when Jason had just died not too long ago. But you were adamant. With that, he did try to train you for a bit, but he ultimately ended up focusing more on Tim, who was the next Robin, and Bludhaven. He “left” you to figure out the ropes of this yourself. He was sure that Bruce or Barbara would train you.

This widens the gap between you and Dick, and at first, you ruled it off as him gaining control of his life and trying to figure out what he plans to do with his responsibilities. But then as the years go by, you notice the blatant distinction between the way he acts around you versus your other siblings.

He kept his distance from you, his interactions were friendly, but always brief. He didn’t exactly linger to check on you or talk to you after patrols. At first, you thought it was Jason’s death that was making him distant, that he was just coping in his own way. But as time went on, it felt like he didn’t see you as worth the effort. Or maybe he just thought you were fine. When he did make plans with you, most of the time, it’d get postponed, or it would slip his mind. He never really thought it was a big deal, and what made things worse was that you never pointed it out as well.

You didn’t want to confront him about this. Maybe you were just afraid to break that loose strands that was holding your relationship with him. Your bond with him. Or maybe you did not want to admit that the bond was basically non-existent.

Whereas Dick remained blissfully unaware of the way he’s treating you. Did he notice that he doesn’t spend as much time with you as he does with the others? Maybe. But did he choose to do anything about that? Not really.

Maybe one day he’ll come to realise the consequences of his actions. That maybe, he wasn’t the best big brother he could be for everyone. Dick Grayson was a man who cared about many things, a man who wore his heart on his sleeve. He was fiercely loyal, protective, and deeply committed to the people he loved—whether it was his adoptive family, his friends, or the people of Gotham. But that didn’t include you.

Dick’s commitment to his own life and responsibilities, both as Nightwing and as a person, pulled him further away from you. He was no longer the older brother who would spend hours with you, teaching you how to be better, how to be a hero. Instead, he was often wrapped up in his own struggles—focusing on Bludhaven, or dealing with the aftermath of Jason’s death. Even when he did offer advice or training, it always felt half-hearted, like he was only doing it because he had to, not because he wanted to.

There were times when you did try to approach him, to bridge the gap that had grown between you two. You wanted to confide in him, to seek his guidance and maybe find the comfort you desperately needed. But every time you tried, it was like talking to a wall. He was distant, distracted, and no matter how much you tried to show him how much you were struggling, he never seemed to truly see you.

The bitterness began to grow, and with it, resentment. Why didn’t he care about you like he used to? Why was it so easy for him to focus on everyone else while you fell to the wayside? It hurt more than you wanted to admit, especially because you still looked up to him, still wanted to be close to him the way you had when you were younger. But now, as the years went on, you realized that maybe the bond you once had was slipping away for good.

He was still the person you wanted to be, but in a way, he had moved on from you. And as much as you hated to admit it, it was easier to hide behind the mask and do things on your own. Because at least then, you wouldn’t have to face the painful truth: Dick Grayson, the brother you looked up to so much, no longer had time for you.

As for Bruce, I don’t want to make it seem like he didn’t care about you. Bruce loves his children, and I don’t want to take that trait away from him. But at the same time, you have to admit that he’s quite emotionally unavailable. From the moment you were brought into his life, Bruce is terrified. He doesn’t know if he can be a good father to raise you, especially with his line of work. And it’s not like you were like Dick. Dick was a growing boy, you were just a baby. Completely dependent on him. You were so and fragile in his arms, and he thinks you’d break if he held you any tighter.

Bruce wanted to love you the way a father should, but love didn’t come easily to him—not in the way most people understood it. His life was a constant battle, filled with shadows and danger, and the idea of bringing a child into that world felt wrong. He couldn’t protect you the way he wanted, not with Gotham always demanding more of him.

So, instead of letting himself get too close, Bruce focused on what he could control: providing for you. He made sure you had the best of everything—your education, your safety, and most importantly, Alfred.

In truth, Alfred did most of the parenting. Bruce rationalized that it was for your own good. Alfred was patient, kind, and steady in ways Bruce felt he could never be. Alfred would shield you from the darkness of the world Bruce inhabited. But deep down, Bruce knew the truth: he was keeping himself at arm’s length because he was terrified of failing you.

But with him keeping you at an arm’s length all the time, Bruce is unaware of the repercussions of his actions. That in a way, he was in fact failing you. Just, not in the way he thinks. He doesn’t necessarily realise how much of your life he’s missing. Sure, he knows he misses out on some of your events, but he tries to make up for it by gifting you more toys and clothes.

Though, that could only work for so long. By the time you were in your pre-teens, you needed more than just trivial gifts.

You needed your father.

But Bruce couldn’t see that. He never did. He only just checked in on your well-being through Alfred. And everytime Alfred tries to tell him about how you needed him in your life more, Bruce always ends up brushing it aside, claiming that you only just need Alfred.

And then comes Jason’s death. That puts a huge hole in Bruce’s heart. The death of his son is something that will haunt him forever. He vows to never fail like that again, not with anyone else he cared about. This was the whole reason why he kept his vigilante life in the dark from you. But you found out anyways. And when you did, you wanted to follow in his footsteps.

That was the last thing he wanted you to do. He tried to dissuade you from this path, but you were determined. Stubbornness was the one trait you did share with him. And eventually, he relented.

He always assigned you cases that he thought was “safe”. Cases that he knew you could handle. But everytime, you demanded more, and each time, Bruce always said no. You were his daughter, he couldn’t risk putting you in dangerous situations. He knew what you can or can’t handle. And unfortunately, that did not change over the years. He was fixated on the very fact that you weren’t cut out for this life of crime-fighting. And you never will be.

Which is why he only watches from afar, the gap between you and your father growing too far apart for any of you to try and bridge it. He only gets updates about you from Alfred, and even that was rarely asked about. And eventually, you just fade into the background, into the shadows of the family.

As for Jason, I believe there would be two parts for him. Before his death, when he was first brought into the family by Bruce, he was this small, energetic boy who had a certain sass to him. He was only 4 years older than you, and that allowed you to build a fairly close bond with him. That is, before he suddenly becomes “busy” with other stuff. Though he spent lesser time with you, he always did try and check in with you when he could. You two always read together in the library, he’d tell you all sorts of stories about Crime Alley.

But that all changed when he died. Jason’s death left a void in everyone, including you. You didn’t understand why he died, what caused his death, and you were literally heartbroken. You saw how his death destroyed your family, and you tried desperately to fix it. But nothing ever worked. Which is why you shifted your grief towards your studies, trying to make sure that you could be the perfect daughter that could fill the emptiness Jason left behind. But nothing worked. You wanted to heal, wanted to help your family move forward, but without their support, it felt impossible.

When you take up the mantle of Batgirl, part of the reason is because you wanted to honour what Jason did. His time as Robin. You thought that maybe he’d be proud of you, for stepping up and doing this. And maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to become half the hero he was.

But no, Jason was far from proud. And you only know that once he is revealed to be Red Hood years later. Jason is furious. His fury cuts deeper than you expected, not just at the fact that you’ve taken up the mantle of Batgirl, but because of the underlying betrayal he feels.

He looks at you, his younger sister, the one who was supposed to be protected, and sees someone who is willingly stepping into the very nightmare he couldn’t escape. The life that broke him, the endless cycle of violence and pain, and the years of grief and rage that had consumed him. He sees you and wonders: Why? Why would you choose this path, knowing what it did to him?

His anger isn’t just about the mantle—it’s about the idea that you’re following in his footsteps, as if you’re willing to become just like him. Worse, you’re doing it without understanding what it costs. He doesn’t want you to end up like him, as someone who can’t find redemption, who is trapped in a life of revenge. He’s already lost so much—first to the Joker, then to Bruce—and now it feels like he’s losing you too. The only family he has left.

But for you, the choice to take up the mantle was about honoring Jason. You didn’t want to replace him. You didn’t want to erase the pain he went through. But as much as you wanted to fight for the family, you couldn’t help but feel like you needed to prove yourself in a way he never had to. Your family was broken, and you thought that maybe, by stepping up, you could fix it. Maybe you could become the hero Jason never got the chance to be.

But that’s not how Jason sees it. He’s angry, and hurt, and feels betrayed—because he knows what you don’t fully understand yet. This life doesn’t fix anything. It destroys. And if you keep going down this path, you’ll end up like him—scarred, alone, and full of rage that will consume you, just like it did him.

The tension between you two becomes unbearable. The sibling bond you once shared is strained beyond repair, and Jason makes it clear that he’ll never accept you as Batgirl. He’s no longer the brother you knew—the one who once taught you how to laugh, how to stand up for yourself. Now, he’s just a stranger, a man whose hatred for the life he was brought into has twisted him into something unrecognizable. And you? You’re just another casualty of it.

No matter how much you try to explain, no matter how much you try to reach him, the gap between you two widens. He’s Red Hood, and you’re Batgirl. The two identities, both born from tragedy, will never be able to coexist peacefully. Every time you suit up, every time you fight to prove yourself, you feel the divide grow stronger. You’ve both chosen your paths, and with that choice, you’ve irreparably lost each other.

For a while, you only ever saw Barbara as the GCPD commissioner’s daughter, Dick’s friend. She had always been around, and was a frequent family friend. You never really understood why she was so deeply tied with your family until you found out the truth.

When you found out that she’d been the first Batgirl, you were amazed, and frankly, you wanted to be just like her. She, who has done so much and fought alongside your family in many battles, who has done so much to protect Gotham. Maybe this was the way for you to get close with your father and older brother. You had to prove yourself through this. That’s what you thought.

Which is why when you approached Barbara one day with the idea of being Batgirl, you expected support, encouragement, maybe even a bit of excitement. After all, she had once worn the cape and fought crime in Gotham’s shadows. But no, apparently you were getting in over your head.

Barbara’s face hardened the moment you mentioned the mantle. Her mantle. She immediately refused, telling you that it was dangerous. At first, you thought she was being protective. Jason had died not too long ago doing this, so maybe that’s why. Which is why you relented. But as she continued, you saw the weight of her words—the deep, painful truth that came from experience.

She recounted her time as Batgirl, her fight against the criminals of Gotham, and how the Joker had shattered her body and soul in a way that no physical injury could ever heal. She spoke of the night she was shot, of how she had lost everything—her mobility, her sense of security, and even a part of her identity. It wasn’t just the pain of what happened to her body—it was the mental toll of knowing that every choice she made brought her closer to losing herself.

You were taken aback, shocked by how strongly she felt. Was she really trying to stop you from becoming Batgirl? After everything she had endured, you couldn’t fathom why she wouldn’t want you to follow in her footsteps. But Barbara wasn’t just speaking from a place of worry; she was speaking from experience. She had seen firsthand how dangerous this life was, how it consumed you piece by piece, and how it left scars that would never fade.

But even as you understood her perspective, the desire to prove yourself still burned fiercely inside of you. You wanted to be more than Bruce Wayne’s daughter, more than someone who had to hide in the shadows. You wanted to stand beside your family, to help Gotham in the only way you knew how. You wanted to honour Jason for what he did for Gotham, and continue it for him. Which is why you relented, and eventually, just like everyone else, Barbara gave in. Because she knew couldn’t change your mind no matter what. Which is why she takes you on and helps with your training.

However, just like Bruce, she too only assigned you cases thst she knew you could handle. Even though Barbara had reluctantly agreed to help you become Batgirl, it was clear from the start that she wasn’t going to make it easy on you. She trained you relentlessly, teaching you the ins and outs of combat, tactics, and the stealthy finesse that Gotham’s criminals required. But even in her guidance, you could feel her hesitation. She never pushed you too far, always stopping just short of testing your limits, as though she was holding something back.

She would assign you cases, but they were always ones she knew you could handle—petty thefts, low-level gangs, the type of cases that wouldn’t put you in direct danger, that wouldn’t challenge you too much, and that she could step in and call someone else to take over if things ever went south.

At first, you didn’t mind. You were just glad to be training, to be doing something. But as time went on, the restrictions started to chafe at you. You could see how Barbara’s protective nature was keeping you in a bubble—one that was too small, one that didn’t prepare you for what Gotham truly was. You didn’t want to be stuck fighting the small-time criminals; you wanted to face the real threats, the ones that could change Gotham for the better after being dealt with.

The frustration mounted. Every time she handed you a case, every time she stopped you from pursuing something more dangerous, you felt your desire to prove yourself slipping further and further away. You knew you couldn’t keep doing this forever. Gotham was too big, the stakes too high, and you were capable of so much more. You had to break free from Barbara’s shadow, from her protective grip, and finally prove that you were ready for the challenges that came with being Batgirl—not just in name, but in action. Which is why you started doing more. Did more than you needed to, took one too many unnecessary risks.

But everything shifted when Barbara took in Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown, both taking up the mantle of Batgirl at some point. It stung. The sense of being sidelined was undeniable, and it hurt more than you had expected. Were you really that replaceable? Did you being Batgirl mean nothing?

Barbara’s training shifted with the new additions. She wasn’t the same mentor to you as she had been when you first started. She had become consumed with building Cassandra and Stephanie up, preparing them for the same Gotham streets that had torn her apart. Except, it was obvious that Barbara saw then as more capable, more stronger to take on the streets. More prepared than you’ll ever be. You were no longer her first priority. In fact, you were hardly a priority at all.

The worst part was how Barbara handled it. Instead of talking to you, explaining her choices, she just… distanced herself. There were no more long training sessions, no more subtle encouragement. Your bond, the one that had felt so strong when she first took you in, weakened and thinned, becoming strained and distant. It was as though she had replaced you with them. Maybe she had.

It wasn’t just the feeling of being replaced by two new recruits; it was the complete lack of acknowledgment of everything you had sacrificed, everything you had worked for. You had pushed through every painful night, every bruise, every tear, just to earn your place. But now, it seemed like all that hard work meant nothing. You were left alone in the shadows once again, watching as the people you cared about, the people who had once been your mentors and family, moved on without you.

The rift between you and Barbara widened with each passing day. You tried to hold on to the hope that things would change, that things would go back to how they were before. But deep down, you knew they never would. Barbara had chosen her new proteges—her Batgirls—and you were left to try to make your own way in a family that no longer felt like your own.

And as the years went by, you still held onto that mantle, and Barbara grew more distant. She checked in on you doing patrols and missions as Oracle, but that was that.

Part 2 (Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, Damian, Duke centered)

lmk your thoughts on this because this has been on my mind for so long <33

taglist (open): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 | ask to be added <3

(idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[wilwheaton]

Imagine if instead of imposing LIBERATION DAY tariffs, then shifting from a trade war with the whole world to a trade war focused more specifically on China, Trump had done the thing he actually talked about on the campaign trail: 10 percent across the board tariffs on every country. It would have sucked and been stupid. It would have been a magnet for corruption. And to the extent that Trump proceeded corruptly, as he is doing now—offering exemptions to friends and bribers—it would have tested global faith in American trustworthiness. But, for the most part, I suspect the world would have absorbed the blow and hoped for a reprieve in four years. We would have drifted into recession, maybe a deep and long one, but eventually climbed out of it. Trump’s numbers would have dropped steadily. Democrats would have had to decide whether and how to offer relief. It would have been a self-inflicted wound, but a survivable and reversible one. What Trump’s done instead has ramifications far beyond its regressive fiscal impact and the coming blow to aggregate demand. It needs to be stopped not because of the economic harm it will bring to seniors, but because it’s anathema to national values, and threatens to end the American age. We aren’t a mafia state. We don’t have dictators in America, and if anyone tests that principle, we align to stop it, not to make life under it a little less painful.

It's The Tyranny, Stupid - by Brian Beutler - Off Message

[sweetlittlehoneybun]

Stress + Zoro = little moss head

Zoro gets super stressed and ends up hiding up in the crow's nest of the thousand sunny as he regresses to the age of a toddler to relieve stress. However, he didn't tell the crew about it as Sanji finds him crying leaving Sanji super confused.

Zoro, the 3 sword-style swordsman, stood at the bow of the Thousand Sunny, the cool ocean breeze ruffling his green hair as he stared out at the endless horizon. The ship sailed smoothly on the calm sea, the sails full of wind. It was a rare moment of peace for the Straw Hat Pirates. However, Zoro's mind was anything but calm. The weight of recent battles and the ever-growing list of challenges ahead pressed on him like a heavy iron anchor, each thought a new link in a chain that threatened to drag him under. His brow furrowed, his eyes tightened, and his teeth clenched.

Without a word, Zoro abruptly turned and sprinted to the base of the main mast. He took to the steel ladder in a swift, practiced motion, climbing higher and higher until he reached the crow's nest. The wooden planks creaked under his feet as he settled into his safe haven, his usual stoic expression replaced by one of intense contemplation. The crew below, accustomed to Zoro's sudden spikes of stress, gave him space, knowing he needed to be alone.

Zoro, overwhelmed by stress, silently climbed to the crow's nest of the Thousand Sunny for solace. The crew, used to his stressful episodes(most of the time he just exercises), allowed him his space, unaware that his mental state had regressed to that of a toddler's.

In the quiet solitude of the crow's nest, Zoro felt his thoughts become a whirlwind of childish fears and worries. As he tries to workout, silently hoping that exercising will silence his fuzzy brain. His grip tightened around one of his dumbells as the ship swayed gently, his eye widens as he began to tear up. The stress of the past battles, the pressure of his role as the crew's protector, and the looming shadow of the New World overwhelmed him. In his heart, he was no longer the strong swordsman that the crew relied on, but a scared, overwhelmed child seeking refuge from the world.

Meanwhile, Sanji, the ship's chef, noticed Zoro's erratic behavior from below. Sanji's instincts told him that something was wrong, but he couldn't resist the urge to test Zoro's limits. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he began to climb the ropes to the crow's nest, he feels a burn in his legs, you could tellthathe was itching for a fight. His mind raced with the thrill of an impending confrontation.

As he approached the crow's nest, he could hear faint sniffles and the sound of someone trying to stifle their sobs. Pausing in his climb, Sanji's confusion grew. Zoro, the epitome of stoicism, crying? It was unheard of. But his curiosity and concern outweighed his initial amusement, and he quickened his pace.

Finally reaching the top, Sanji poked his head over the edge, only to find Zoro sitting in the corner, knees drawn up to his chest, with tears streaming down his face. The swordsman looked up, his eye red and puffy, and immediately tried to hide his face, but it was too late. Sanji's expression shifted from one of battle-ready excitement to utter bewilderment.

"What's going on, Zoro?" Sanji asked, his voice gentle. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Zoro looked up with a wet, pleading eye. "anji, go 'way," he sniffled, his voice unusually high-pitched and childlike as he also struggled to say Sanji's name right. Zoro holding himself in a hug like fashion.

Sanji's brows shot up in surprise. "What's wrong, Zoro?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. He had never seen the swordsman in such a state. He stepped into the crow's nest, his boots making a soft thud on the planks.

"I said go 'way," Zoro repeated, his voice still high-pitched and trembling. He scooted back, trying to put as much space between them as possible in the small space. His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, and he buried his face in his arms.

Sanji's eyes widened, and he took a step back, holding up his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Zoro. I didn't mean to scare you." He tried to keep his tone light, but the sight of his usually fearless crewmate in such distress was unsettling.

Tentatively, Sanji sat down a few feet away, his eyes never leaving Zoro's huddled form. He studied the swordsman, noticing the way his shoulders heaved with each sob and his fingers gripped his arms with a strength that belied his size and would most definitely bruise. It was clear that this was not a simple case of nerves or exhaustion. Something deeper was troubling Zoro, something that had stripped him of his usual stoic facade.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the rhythmic creaks of the ship and the distant calls of seagulls. Sanji waited patiently, knowing that pushing Zoro would only make things worse. Finally, the swordsman looked up, his eye brimming with unshed tears. "S-anji... I-I don't know what's happening to me," he whispered, his voice cracking.

"It's okay," Sanji assured him, his voice soothing. "Just take a deep breath and tell me what's going on."

Zoro sniffled and took a deep, shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. He looked at Sanji with the wide eye of a lost child. "Everyfing's just... too much," he murmured, his voice still high and trembling. "The fighting, danger, pressure... I just want to be safe agains, like when I was little."

Sanji's heart went out to his friend. He had never seen Zoro so vulnerable. "You don't have to be strong all the time," he said softly, reaching out a hand to pat Zoro's back awkwardly. "We're all here for you."

But Zoro just shook his head, his grip on the himself tightening. "No, no, no," he repeated, his voice growing more insistent. "I need to be strong, for the crew, for Luffy. I can't be a burden."

Sanji sighed, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "You're not a burden, Zoro," he said firmly. "We're all in this together, and sometimes, it's okay to lean on your friends."

Zoro looked up at him, his eye filled with a mix of frustration and gratitude. He knew Sanji was right, but the thought of admitting his fears to the rest of the crew was unbearable. "They'lls laughs ats me," he whispered, his bottom lip quivering. "Theys won't take mes ss-ser-eriously anymore." Zoro says struggling with the word seriously.

Sanji frowned, his eyes searching Zoro's. "They're not like that," he said. "They'll understand."

But Zoro was lost in his own world of doubt. His mind was a tumultuous sea of fear and inadequacy, the words of his comrades just distant whispers on the wind. The stress had taken its toll, and his thoughts had regressed to a time when the world was simpler, when the biggest challenge was climbing a tree or catching a fish. He wished he could be that carefree again, if only for a little while, but he had to protect the crew.

Sanji watched as Zoro's body remained taut and tense, despite the childlike whimpers that escaped him. It was a surreal sight, one that made the cook's heart ache for his friend. He knew Zoro was struggling to reconcile his adult responsibilities with the desperate need to be comforted like a little kid.

"You know," Sanji began, his voice gentle, "sometimes, even the strongest people need a break." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "When I'm stressed, I just think of the warmth of freshly baked bread or the taste of a perfect steak. It helps me feel a bit more... grounded."

Zoro looked at him with a mix of wonder and despair. "Dat's your way," he said, his voice still high-pitched. "But why dos I have to be like this?" He gestured to himself with a trembling hand. "Why can't I just... I don'ts know, punch somefing or yell and feel better?"

Sanji nodded, his eyes never leaving Zoro's. "Everyone has their own way of coping," he said, his voice gentle. "And maybe, just maybe, your mind is telling you that you need a different kind of comfort."

Zoro wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his eye never leaving Sanji's face. "But why a toddler's?" Zoro whined, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why do I want to cuddle up in a blanket and hold onto a dumb stuffy?"

Sanji chuckled, his expression warm and understanding. "You know, everyone has their quirks," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Zoro looked at him skeptically, his eye still filled with the pain of his inner turmoil. "But why a toddler's?" he repeated, his voice small and lost. "I'm a swordsman, nots a baby."

Sanji gave a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "You know, Zoro, sometimes our minds are like an animal," he said, leaning in slightly. "You've got all these claws, all this strength, but even the toughest animal has a weak spot."

Zoro looked at him, his expression unchanged, but the tightness around his eye eased a fraction.

"But... buts everyone will fink I's gone soft," he said, his voice still high and trembling. "They'll fink I can't handle being a pirate no more."

Sanji leaned back, folding his arms. "You think Luffy's got it easy because he's carefree?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "Or Usopp, because he runs away from fights?"

Zoro considered this, his brow furrowed. "But they're not likes me," he murmured.

Sanji shrugged. "Luffy finds strength in his childlike wonder, and Usopp in his vivid imagination. Maybe this is just your way of dealing with things, Zoro."

Zoro pondered Sanji's words, his thumb knuckle finding its way to his lips as his mind continued to regress. The gesture was involuntary, a habit from a time when the world was less demanding, and fears could be soothed with the simple comfort of sucking his thumb. The feeling was strange yet oddly comforting. He felt his shoulders relax, and his breathing even out as the stress started to wash away, replaced by a warm fuzzy feeling in his head.

Sanji noticed the change in Zoro's posture and watched with a mix of concern and curiosity as the swordsman's features softened. He could see the cogs turning in Zoro's head as he grappled with the idea that it was okay to seek solace in his childish ways, even if only for a brief escape. The silence between them grew thick, punctuated only by the occasional sniffle from Zoro.

Finally, the swordsman spoke again, his voice still small and tremulous. "anji, promise me you won't tell the others."

Sanji nodded solemnly. "Your secret's safe with me," he assured, his voice low and soothing. "Now, let's get you a nice, warm blanket and something to eat. That always helps me feel better."

Zoro nodded, his thoughts drifting to the idea of a plushie, something soft and comforting to cling to. He remembered the small, one-eyed bear he had as a child, how it had been his constant companion during thunderstorms and nights when the darkness felt too vast. His eye searched the crow's nest, longing for something similar to provide him the comfort he desperately needed.

Sanji watched as Zoro's thoughts seemed to drift away, his eye misting over with longing. The cook couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for his friend. He knew that in their line of work, it was easy to lose sight of the simpler things that brought happiness. The thought of Zoro craving something as innocent as a plush toy was both endearing and heartbreaking.

Zoro's whines grew softer as he remembered the plush bear he had lost long ago. It had been with him through countless nights, the silent guardian that had seen him through his early days as a pirate hunter. He missed the comfort it had provided, the way it had made the vast, unpredictable world feel just a bit less big and less frightening.

His thoughts grew fuzzy, and he found himself wishing for a similar object to cling to. A soft plushie, or a soft blanket, something that could absorb his fears and soothe his frayed nerves. He pictured himself hugging it tightly, his face buried in its fur, feeling the warmth and safety that had been missing for so long.

The memory of his childhood plushie grew more vivid in his mind, the feel of its worn fabric under his tiny fingers, the smell of home that lingered on it despite the years of travel. Zoro felt a pang in his chest, a yearning for that innocent time when battles were just imaginary and friends were never in danger. His eye searched the crow's nest again, desperately seeking something to fill that void.

Finding nothing, Zoro's frustration grew, his toddler mind unable to reconcile the lack of a familiar comfort object. He let out a wail, his fists pounding against the wooden railing. "I want my teddy!" he sobbed, his voice cracking as he dropped the dumbbell he had been gripping and his arms flew up furiously trying to wipe the tears running down his face. The sound of his distress echoed through the ship, reaching the ears of the confused and concerned crew below.

Sanji's eyes widened in surprise at Zoro's sudden outburst, but he remained calm, his hand still resting comfortingly on Zoro's back. "It's okay, Zoro," he murmured, trying to soothe the distressed swordsman. "We'll find something to help you feel better."

But Zoro was beyond consolation. His frustration boiled over into a full-blown tantrum. He kicked his legs out, his feet thumping against the planks of the crow's nest. "No, no, no!" he wailed, his voice reaching a pitch that would put a banshee to shame. "I want my teddy now!"

Sanji's eyes darted around, searching for anything that could serve as a makeshift plushie. Spotting a rolled-up shirt in the corner, he grabbed it and held it out to Zoro. "Here," he said, trying to sound reassuring. "This can be your teddy for now."

Zoro's eye lit up for a moment, but as soon as the fabric of the t-shirt brushed against his skin, his expression crumpled into one of discomfort. "It's scratchy!" he wailed, his voice piercing the air. The realization that his own clothes were also scratchy only added to his distress, and his screaming grew louder, his sobs more intense.

Sanji winced at the sound, his hand hovering over Zoro's shoulder, unsure of what to do next. He had never seen his friend in such a state, and the sight was both heart-wrenching and alarming. The crew below grew more concerned, exchanging confused glances as the swordsman's cries echoed through the ship.

With a sudden idea, Sanji turned to the supplies in the crow's nest, searching for something that might resemble a plush toy. His eyes fell on a rolled-up piece of cloth, likely used to protect the ship's lookout equipment. He unfurled it, revealing a soft, red material that looked surprisingly snuggle-worthy. He approached Zoro cautiously, holding out the cloth with both hands like an offering.

"Here, Zoro," he said softly, "This could be your temporary teddy."

But Zoro was lost in his tantrum, his cries piercing the calm of the sea. He pushed Sanji's hand away, his face a mask of despair. "No, no, no!" he screamed, his voice raw with emotion. "It not same!"

The chef looked on, his heart in his throat. He had never seen the swordsman so vulnerable, so utterly lost. The usually stoic Zoro was now a tempest of toddler emotions, inconsolable in his distress. Sanji's mind raced for a solution, desperate to provide his friend with the comfort he so clearly needed.

In the midst of Zoro's wails, a new sound reached their ears. It was the thump of hooves on the mast, growing louder with every passing second. Sanji's eyes widened as he recognized the source of the commotion. "Chopper," he murmured, a mix of hope and trepidation coloring his voice.

Chopper, the ship's doctor and a reindeer-human hybrid, poked his head into the crow's nest, his expression one of bewilderment. His eyes grew wide when he saw Zoro's state, his antlered head tilting to the side as he took in the scene before him. "Sanji? What's wrong, Zoro?" he asked, his voice filled with concern and worry.

Sanji saw his opportunity and took it. He swiftly scooped Chopper into his arms, despite the latter's protests. "Hold still, you," he murmured, his movements surprisingly gentle given his usual exasperation with the doctor's antics. "You're going to be Zoro's teddy for now."

Chopper squirmed in his grasp, his eyes wide with shock. "Sanji!, what are you doing!?" he squeaked, his voice high with confusion and a hint of fear.

Ignoring the doctor's protests, Sanji held Chopper out to Zoro, who had stopped crying to stare at the bizarre sight before him. "Here," Sanji said with a hopeful smile, "Chopper can be your teddy for now. He's soft and warm, just like the one you used to have."

Zoro's eye lit up with hope, and he reached out tentatively to touch the reindeer's fur. Chopper, still bewildered, allowed Zoro to clutch onto him tightly, his eyes wide with shock. The sudden weight of the swordsman's burly arms was a surprise, but he remained still, sensing the gravity of the situation.

As Zoro buried his face in Chopper's soft fur, his body began to relax. The warmth of the reindeer's body and the comforting texture of his fur calmed the swordsman down a bit. The sobs grew quieter. His breathing evened out, and his body melted into the embrace.

Chopper, still in shock, patted Zoro's back gently, his own heart racing. He had never seen the swordsman so distraught and didn't know how to handle it. But as he felt the tension seep out of the pirate's muscles, he realized that perhaps Sanji's strange solution had worked.

The crow's nest grew quiet, save for the sound of Zoro's muffled sniffles and the occasional squeak from Chopper as he tried to adjust to his new role. The doctor's mind raced, trying to understand what was happening, but he knew better than to disturb the fragile peace that had settled over the swordsman.

As Zoro's cries grew softer, he felt his eyelid droop and a yawn slip through his mouth. His eye grew heavy with the weight of exhaustion and the gentle swaying of the ship. He leaned into Chopper, his body feeling boneless with relief. The reindeer's soft fur was surprisingly comforting against his cheek, and the steady beating of the doctor's heart beneath his ear was a lullaby that promised safety.

Sanji watched as Zoro's breathing grew even, his eyes closing as he drifted into a peaceful slumber. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of his tough comrade holding onto Chopper like a cherished plushie. It was strange, but seeing Zoro find solace in something so innocent was oddly endearing.

Chopper, now accustomed to his role, allowed Zoro to use him as a pillow. He could feel the swordsman's thumb knuckle making its way into his mouth, and his eyes grew wide with surprise. He'd heard of thumb-sucking as a childhood comfort, but he had never seen it in action, especially not from someone as formidable as Zoro.

The sound of Zoro's gentle snores filled the crow's nest, a stark contrast to the fierce battles he usually dominated. The blue-nosed reindeer looked to Sanji for guidance, his gaze questioning. Sanji just shrugged and chuckled, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Let him be," he whispered. "We all need our comforts."

Chopper nodded, his concern for Zoro outweighing his own discomfort. He shifted slightly to get more comfortable, feeling the warmth of the swordsman's body seep into his own. The sea breeze picked up, sending a shiver through him. Sanji noticed and pulled out an extra blanket from the supplies, carefully tucking it around them both. "You two take it easy up here," he said, his voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping pirate.

Sanji descended the ladder, his mind racing with the events of the last few minutes. He knew the commotion had to have alerted the rest of the crew, and they would be worried about what had happened to their comrade. As he reached the deck, he found the Straw Hats gathered in a concerned huddle, their eyes on the crow's nest.

Luffy looked up as Sanji approached, his eyebrow raised in question. "What's wrong with Zoro?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. Sanji took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the bizarre situation without causing unnecessary alarm.

"He's just... having a rough time," Sanji replied, his voice carefully measured. "I think the stress is really getting to him." The rest of the crew exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and worry. They had all seen Zoro stressed before, but never like this.

Luffy's eyes widened in concern. "Is he okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a rare seriousness.

Sanji nodded. "For now, he's just... sleeping," he said, trying to keep his tone casual. "But we should keep an eye on him. Make sure he gets plenty of rest and doesn't push himself too hard."

The crew murmured in agreement, their faces a mirror of worry. Sanji knew he had to be the one to explain, to prepare them for the changes in Zoro's behavior. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation to come.

"Look, guys," Sanji began, his tone serious. "Zoro's been dealing with a lot of pressure lately, and I think he's just reached his breaking point." The pirates looked at each other, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. "He's been bottling up his stress, trying to be the stoic swordsman we all know and depend on. If he wakes up he might be a bit different than the swordsman's were use to "

Nami stepped forward, her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'different'?" she asked, her voice tinged with skepticism. Sanji rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit awkward.

"Well, it seems like... Zoro's mental state has kind of, uh, regressed," Sanji stuttered, searching for the right words. "He's acting like a... a toddler right now."

The Straw Hats gaped at him, their eyes wide with astonishment. Luffy's hat tilts back, revealing his puzzled expression. "What do you mean, Sanji?"

Sanji sighs, running a hand through his hair. "He's... not quite himself," he says, his eyes darting to the crow's nest above. "His mind's kind of gone back to when he was a little kid."

The Straw Hats stare at him, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Usopp's hand shoots up. "You mean like, he's going to start playing with toys and asking for bedtime stories?"

Sanji nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, something like that. However I'm not completely sure."

The crew exchanges skeptical glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. "But why?" Usopp asks, his voice a high-pitched squeak. "Is he okay?"

Sanji nods firmly. "He's okay," he reassures them. "It's just his way of dealing with stress." He pauses, weighing his words carefully. "You know how Luffy gets all excited and hyper? Or how you get all scared and imagine things?"

The crew nods, understanding the varying ways each of them dealt with their own stress.

"So what do we do?" Nami asks, her eyes never leaving the crow's nest.

Sanji scratches his head, his mind racing. "For now, let him rest," he says finally. "We'll see how he is when he wakes up. Maybe it's just a one time thing."

The girls exchange a look, nodding in understanding. "I've got some plushies in my room," Robin offers, her voice gentle. "I'm sure he can borrow one if it'll help."

Nami nods in agreement, her expression thoughtful. "I'll grab some of my stuff too," she says, already turning to head below deck. "Maybe something from my childhood will work."

Usopp looks at Sanji, his face a mask of confusion. "But, what if he wakes up and starts crying again?" he asks, his voice quivering slightly.

Sanji nods, his eyes serious. "Chopper's with him," he says, his voice firm. "If Zoro needs anything, Chopper will be there."

Luffy, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, suddenly bursts out in laughter, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Haha, Zoro's finally cracked!" he says, a wide grin spreading across his face. "It's about time he deals with all that stress he's been hoarding!"

The crew looks at their captain, a mix of shock and concern etched on their faces. Sanji sighs, knowing that Luffy's innocence sometimes leads to insensitivity. "Luffy, it's not something to laugh about," he says, his voice a gentle reprimand. "Zoro's going through a tough time."

But Luffy's grin doesn't waver. "I know, I know," he says, his eyes sparkling. "But think about it! Zoro's usually so serious and tense. Now we can finally play together!" He claps his hands together, his enthusiasm infectious. "Maybe we can have a game tag, ooooooo I can teach him some of my cool moves!"

Sanji sighs, knowing that Luffy's intentions are pure. "Keep it down," he murmurs, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite the situation's gravity. "We don't want to disturb him."

Luffy nods, his excitement momentarily dampened. The crew stands in silence for a moment, the only sound being the gentle slap of waves against the Thousand Sunny's hull. They all knew Zoro well enough to understand that his stoic exterior was a shield, one that had clearly been breached by the weight of their pirate life's stresses.

Nami breaks the silence, her voice filled with a hint of amusement. "You know, it's kind of refreshing to know that even Zoro can't handle everything all the time," she says, a smirk playing on her lips. The tension in the air lightens, and the others chuckle in agreement. It was true; the swordsman's unshakeable demeanor had always made them wonder if he ever felt fear or doubt.

Robin nods thoughtfully. "Perhaps this is his way of letting us in, of showing us that he's not invincible," she says, her voice soft. The crew exchanges knowing looks. They had all seen the weight Zoro carried, the silent burden of being the crew's protector and Luffy's right-hand man.

[regressionschool]

Maturity Test Part 4: Life as a toddler

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

A year had passed since Anna had taken Olaf and Becky into her care, and the routine of their daily lives had settled into a comfortable rhythm. The once stark contrast between the two of them had grown even more pronounced, as Becky’s preschooler skills flourished while Olaf’s regression deepened. They shared a brightly decorated bedroom, with walls painted in soft pastel colors and shelves filled with toys and books, each reflecting their distinct stages of development.

Becky’s side of the room was neat and organized, her bed adorned with colorful blankets and a couple of plush animals. A large, colorful potty training chart was pinned to the wall beside her bed, and it was covered in suns, each one representing a day where she had successfully used the potty. There were a few clouds scattered here and there, but overall, it was clear that Becky was well on her way to mastering potty training. Her pride in those suns was evident whenever she looked at the chart, a smile lighting up her face.

Olaf’s side of the room, in contrast, was a little more chaotic, filled with stuffed animals, blocks, and other toddler toys. His bed had guard rails on the sides, making it resemble a large crib, and next to it was a changing table stocked with diapers, wipes, and powder. Olaf had become completely accustomed to his diapers over the past year, his potty training skills having long since faded. The few times he had tried to reach for the potty in the early days had ended in tears of frustration, leading to Anna’s gentle but firm reassurance that he didn’t need to worry about that anymore.

Olaf’s dependency on his pacifier had also grown. It was almost always clipped to his shirt, and when he wasn’t sucking on it, he seemed restless, his hands fidgeting or his lips quivering slightly. The pacifier was his comfort, his security, and it had become a constant presence in his life. He had adapted to his toddler role more fully than anyone could have imagined, and while there were moments of confusion or sadness, they were fleeting, quickly soothed by Anna’s comforting touch or a favorite toy.

Anna had taken great care to treat each of them according to their assigned ages. Becky was praised for her growing independence and learning skills. She attended preschool every day, where she was learning to read simple words, count to ten, and even beginning to write her name. Becky beamed with pride when she showed Anna the new things she learned at school, and Anna encouraged her every step of the way. At night, however, Becky still wore diapers due to her heavy wetting, something that she accepted without much fuss. It was just part of the routine—something that separated her from being a "big kid," but not something that bothered her too much.

Olaf, on the other hand, spent his days in daycare, where he played with blocks, listened to stories, and napped in a room filled with other toddlers. His diaper changes had become so routine that he barely noticed them anymore, and his remaining potty training instincts were long gone. Anna treated him like the toddler he had been classified as, her voice always soft and reassuring, never pushing him to do more than what was appropriate for his age.

One afternoon, an official from the reclassification center visited to check on how things were going. Anna had been expecting the visit, but there was still a nervous energy in the air as she welcomed the official into the house. The official was a stern-looking woman with a clipboard in hand, her expression serious as she began her inspection.

Anna led the official into the shared bedroom, where Becky was proudly playing with a set of alphabet blocks, forming simple words she had learned in preschool. Olaf, meanwhile, was on the floor with a pacifier in his mouth, stacking large, colorful rings onto a peg.

The official’s sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the distinctions between Becky and Olaf’s sides. She walked over to Becky’s potty training chart, tapping it with her pen. "I see Becky is doing very well with her potty training," she remarked, her tone neutral.

Anna nodded, smiling. "Yes, she’s been doing great. She’s very proud of all her suns. But she still wears a diaper at night since she’s a heavy wetter."

The official made a note on her clipboard. "And Olaf? I see he’s fully adjusted to his toddler classification."

Anna glanced at Olaf, who was happily chewing on his pacifier as he played. "Yes, he’s doing well, too. He’s very comfortable in his diapers, and he’s still quite dependent on his pacifier, but it helps keep him calm."

The official walked over to Olaf, crouching down to his level. She carefully examined his diaper, noting its slight sag, indicating he was wet. "Olaf," she said gently but firmly, "how are you feeling today?"

Olaf looked up at her with wide eyes, his pacifier bobbing in his mouth as he nodded. "Good," he mumbled around the rubber nipple, his words barely understandable but filled with contentment.

The official straightened up, her expression still serious. "It’s important that Olaf remains in his toddler role," she said, turning to Anna. "He shouldn’t be encouraged to behave in ways that are beyond his assigned age. Any attempt to push him toward behaviors that are too mature could be detrimental to his well-being."

Anna nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Of course. I always make sure to treat Olaf appropriately for his age. I want him to feel safe and secure."

The official seemed satisfied with the response and moved over to Becky, who was showing off her block words with a big smile. "And Becky, how do you like preschool?"

Becky beamed. "I love it! I’m learning to read, and I can count to ten now! And I almost never have accidents anymore."

The official gave a rare smile. "That’s wonderful, Becky. You’re doing very well." She glanced at Anna. "It’s clear that Becky is progressing appropriately for her classification."

Anna felt a surge of pride as she looked at Becky. "She’s a bright little girl, and I’m very proud of her."

The official finished her notes and then looked at Anna with a hint of approval. "It seems that everything is in order here. You’re doing an excellent job maintaining the appropriate care and boundaries for both Becky and Olaf. I’ll submit my report, and we’ll schedule another check-in in a few months."

Anna nodded, feeling relieved. "Thank you. I just want to make sure they’re both happy and healthy."

Two years had passed since Anna had taken full guardianship of both Olaf and Rebecca, and the rhythm of their days had settled into a comfortable routine. Each day began with Anna waking up her two littles, getting them ready for the day ahead, and ensuring they were happy and well cared for. Today was no different.

Anna quietly opened the door to the bedroom they shared, the soft creak of the hinges echoing through the stillness of the early morning. The gentle hum of a white noise machine filled the air, a soothing background to the scene before her. Becky was curled up on her side in her small bed, her thumb nestled in her mouth as she slept peacefully. Across the room, Olaf lay sprawled out on his back in his toddler-sized bed, his pacifier bobbing gently in his mouth as he dreamed.

Anna’s heart swelled with affection as she stepped into the room. It was always a bittersweet moment, seeing how much both of them had changed and how deeply they had regressed into their new roles. But she loved them both dearly, and they seemed happy, even if they didn’t fully understand the depth of their regression.

Gently, she knelt beside Becky, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. "Becky," Anna whispered softly, her voice as gentle as the morning light streaming through the window. "It’s time to wake up, sweetheart."

Becky stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked a few times, then yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "Morning, Mommy," she mumbled sleepily, sitting up with a small smile.

Anna smiled back and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Good morning, Becky. Did you sleep well?"

Becky nodded, though her face fell slightly as she shifted in her bed. She glanced down at the thick nighttime diaper between her legs, her lips forming a small pout. "I…I had an accident again," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. "I thought I could keep it dry this time."

Anna’s heart tugged at the disappointment in Becky’s voice. Despite her progress during the day, Becky still struggled with nighttime accidents, and it clearly frustrated her. Anna reached out, gently cupping Becky’s cheek. "That’s okay, sweetie. You’re doing so well during the day, and nighttime accidents are nothing to be upset about. We’ll get you all cleaned up and into your big-girl pull-up for school."

Becky nodded, the disappointment in her eyes softening as Anna helped her out of bed. Together, they made their way to the changing table, where Anna efficiently removed Becky’s soggy diaper, wiped her clean, and helped her into a fresh pull-up. Once dressed in her favorite preschool uniform—a light blue dress with a white collar—Becky’s mood had already lifted.

"All set!" Anna said, smoothing out Becky’s dress. "Ready for a big day at preschool?"

Becky smiled brightly and nodded. "Uh-huh!"

Anna turned her attention to Olaf next. He was still fast asleep, his pacifier gently bobbing in and out as he nuzzled into his pillow. His nighttime diaper was clearly soaked, the faint yellow discoloration obvious through the thick padding. Anna couldn’t help but smile as she reached down and gently shook him awake.

"Olaf, time to wake up, little one," she cooed softly, rubbing his back. Olaf blinked his eyes open, his thumb automatically moving to replace the pacifier in his mouth as he stirred. He looked up at Anna with sleepy, half-lidded eyes, his pacifier still firmly between his lips.

Without a word, Anna guided him to the changing table, where she expertly removed his soaked diaper, cleaned him up, and slid a fresh, thick diaper beneath him. The crinkling of the plastic filled the room as she fastened the tapes securely around his waist. Olaf remained quiet throughout, still too drowsy to do much more than suck on his pacifier and stare up at Anna with wide, trusting eyes.

Once he was freshly diapered, Anna dressed him in a simple t-shirt, the diaper peeking out from underneath. "There we go, Olaf," she said, tapping his nose playfully. "All ready for breakfast."

Olaf giggled softly around his pacifier, still content in his little world.

Together, they made their way to the kitchen, where the familiar morning routine continued. Becky, being a preschooler, was allowed to sit at the regular table and make her own breakfast. Anna handed her a slice of toast and a small jar of jam, and Becky eagerly set about smearing the jam across the toast, her little tongue poking out in concentration as she tried to keep the mess contained.

Olaf, on the other hand, was placed in his highchair, the familiar click of the buckles securing him in place. Anna tied a bib around his neck, the bright fabric adorned with cartoon animals. Olaf pouted slightly, but he didn’t resist. It was a ritual by now, and despite his occasional grumbles, he had grown used to it. He waited patiently as Anna prepared his breakfast—warm porridge, sweetened with a touch of honey and a splash of milk.

As Anna fed Olaf small spoonfuls of the porridge, he happily kicked his feet, enjoying the taste. "Good boy," she cooed, wiping a bit of porridge from the corner of his mouth.

Between bites, Olaf absentmindedly played with his pacifier, his focus entirely on the bowl in front of him. As Anna continued to feed him, a soft hissing sound filled the air, faint but unmistakable. Anna’s eyes flicked down to Olaf’s diaper, just in time to see the slight yellowing of the material as it absorbed the wetness. Olaf, however, didn’t seem to notice. He continued eating his porridge, blissfully unaware of the accident he had just had.

Anna sighed softly, her heart aching a little at how deeply Olaf had regressed. He had become so accustomed to his diapers that he didn’t even realize when he was wetting them anymore. But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she finished feeding him, then gave him a gentle pat on the head.

"Let’s get you dressed for daycare, little man," she said softly, wiping his hands and face clean before lifting him out of the highchair.

After a quick check of his diaper, which was indeed damp but not soaked, Anna dressed Olaf in a pair of shortalls, the thick padding of his diaper barely hidden beneath the fabric. He looked every bit the part of a toddler now, from his pacifier to his bib to the soft crinkle of his diaper with each step he took.

Once both Becky and Olaf were ready, Anna ushered them out the door and into the car. Becky, buckled into her booster seat, chattered excitedly about the day ahead at preschool, while Olaf, in his toddler seat, quietly sucked on his pacifier, content to watch the world pass by outside the window.

Their first stop was Becky’s preschool. As Anna helped Becky out of the car and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, Becky waved enthusiastically. "Bye, Mommy! I’ll see you after school!"

"Have a great day, Becky!" Anna called back, watching her run off to join her friends with a smile.

Next, it was time to take Olaf to daycare. As they pulled up outside the building, Olaf’s eyes widened slightly, a hint of nervousness creeping in. "Mommy…" he mumbled around his pacifier, his voice barely audible.

Anna smiled down at him as she unbuckled his seatbelt and lifted him from the car. "Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re going to have lots of fun today, just like always."

Olaf nodded hesitantly, clutching tightly to Anna as she carried him inside. She gave him a reassuring hug, rubbing his back softly. "You’ll be okay, Olaf. Mommy will be back to pick you up before you know it."

With that, Anna handed Olaf over to one of the caregivers, who smiled warmly at him and led him toward the play area. As she watched him waddle off, his shortalls riding up slightly to reveal the edge of his diaper.

[ctheathy]

Hello, I hope you have a nice day! , I would like to request a headcanons of yandere nine x reader being kidnapped by doctor eggman

Yandere Nine w/ Darling who got kidnapped by Robotnik

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: You, my dear reader, are all out for the drama and I'm here for it~!

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Possessiveness • Nine is so traumatized omfg- • Eventual PTSD • Age regression • Overprotective behaviour • Poor mental state • Paranoia • Emotional dependency • Trust Issues • Insomnia • Violence

Pfft. If Nine wasn't already considered severely unhinged before, he most certainly will be right now. Oh how much terror the fox would feel in the pits of his stomach, the horror in his eyes, the helplessness in his heart. He most certainly would have never allowed this to even remotely come forward if he were the one to be in your presence. But... he wasn't. The whole team would have felt this immense sense of hesitance and dread to even tell him about it, having noticed his attachment and emotional bond towards you... and when the words slip from Sonic's mouth, not ready to test the nine-tailed foxes’ impatience, he cracks. And not just any regular burst of anger, he has a complete mental breakdown.

Nine will be nothing less than a ball of angst and fright at this point, something which he desperately tried to cover up with an infuriated facade, despite his evident worries from your abduction. But none of that would matter in the end, because he'd behave completely berserk one way or another. He doesn't dare rest or waste time for that matter until he can hold you in his arms again. Likely as soon as they reach The Chaos Council to try and bring you back... Nine would not hold himself back, still taken over by his violent meltdown. Instead of trying to avoid the Council's eyes and enemies that are in the way, maintaining a low profile as he'd say, he releases all of that pent up malice.

Though he'd leave many of the his robotic opponents onto the grounds ...torn to scraps by the fierce abilities of his mechanical tails, Nine would be surprisingly merciful to any living mobian for the sake of getting answers on where you're being held hostage. Because remember; although venting out some of his frustrations during the fight was equal to his hostility towards those who just so happened to be in his way, this mission is not and never will be about assassinating every enemy he comes across for the sake of just hurting them. It's all just to release you from The Chaos Council's grasp, take you back to his workshop where you rightfully belong ...bring you back to him. An objective and promise he will never allow himself to forget ever again after seeing your frightened face and body.

Even after he does get you back to the team, and he will no matter the costs or sacrifices he has to offer. But although you're back home, safe.... His paranoia will continue to linger and remain at its highest. Though the wounds you obtained through your abduction will eventually heal, his trauma of your kidnapping won't for a very long time. The side affects seemingly starts off small through your perspective, and you probably wouldn't even know how much it deep down affected him. Especially as the amber fox just seems to want to stick closeby you, seeking for comforting reassurance and some guidance to get himself back on the right track, which you more than understand and accept with open arms.

But what if I told you that he just got much, ...much more insane and delusional than you may think after you got taken away like that. It was like a newborn kitten being taken away from its mother right after birth, one whom he'd desperately cry out to and crawl after. To Nine, it wasn't just the idea of losing that happiness of having somebody to care about, but this also re-activated his defense mechanism to his past trauma.

Kill or be killed.

Nine's whole mentality practically returns to that of his younger self, almost similar to an age regression... You'd probably also notice the changes in demeanor, how he's practically almost behaving like a juvenile again. Decisions are made more so out of instinct rather than rational, logical thoughts. Which, to you, is something completely foreign and out of character for Nine.

His overprotective impulses would kick in at full force and he'd be quicker to lash out, along with his pessimistic mentality and stress being multiplied in the process, which is something his already poor mental state is absolutely not emotionally capable of handling. Even with you just not being in his eyesight can leave Nine with severe anxiety. His emotions are quicker to flow over, resulting in either anger outbursts or crying... And he practically treats you as if you were actively dying from a disease, constantly thinking of and mentioning the “what ifs”.

There would be many restless nights where he wakes up in the middle of the night, teary-eyed after a dream vision or isn't even capable of drifting off into a slumber at all. The simple thought of you ending up hurt and scarred while he wasn't there to protect you keeps his nerves excessive and senses on constant high alert. Even just the consideration in itself can leave him in a condition of hysteria for the next half hour, unable to calm himself down. These sudden exchanges of panic making you realise just how inconsistent it is, as Nine was usually known as collected, self-assured... in control of the situation. Something you'd consider the other side of the coin of how he was operating at this very moment. A complete and sudden reverse swap in his very identity.

Making you pray... that this was a crutch you could hopefully help him grow out of

[butterfly-stitches]

INSTINCT.

[ Explicit ] // MDNI

AO3

Pairings: Russell Adler x Bell, Frank Woods x Bell Ensemble: Russell Adler, Frank Woods, Alex Mason, Reader, Bell (Implied Fem!Bell), Helen A. Park, Eleazar "Lazar" Azoulay, Lawrence Sims, Jason Hudson

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse, Military Inaccuracies, Medical Inaccuracies, A/B/O Prejudice, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Torture, Medical Experimentation, Accidental Knotting, Knotting, Claiming Bites, Animal Instincts, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Scenting, Scent Marking, Older Man/Younger Woman, Hurt/Comfort, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Second Person, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: Betrayed by your own and left for dead, you were captured and interrogated by the enemy. But you gave them nothing. Desperate times call for desperate measures as the saying went. And by it, the use of MK-Ultra. Melding you into something more manageable. Making you believe that you work alongside the CIA and have known Adler for many years. But what your capturers didn’t expect was the byproduct of transmutation in the after process of menticide. Turning you, an alpha, into an omega. Now Adler and the rest of the team must learn to adapt and adjust to an omega in their military pack. All while trying to stop the puppeteering machinations of a once dormant Soviet spy network led by a man, and your old pack alpha, known only as Perseus.

But having an omega on the team only makes things more complicated than necessary. Especially one so unpredictable and so fresh out of MK-Ultra. An alpha and an omega naturally gravitate towards each other like a binary black hole. And no one, not even a highly desensitized alpha like Adler, can deny their instincts forever.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: variable.

Words: 2,272 Summary: In which you are remolded …

“You’re sure?” 

Outside a bright white lab room, in a just as bright hallway, two figures watched from behind a one-way glass window. The tall one had a cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth, puffing away leisurely despite the building being a smoke-free area. It was well-ventilated enough was his reasoning, stress was another. But the woman next to him didn’t complain nor comment, being an avid smoker herself. 

Nonetheless, the woman beside him nodded at the question.

“I am.” 

The man inhaled, his cigarette glowing brighter at the end with his deep intake. The woman next to him’s answer slowly seeped in his head. It was a heavy thing to process. His fatigue-addled brain only made it harder for him to come to terms with it and the situation that would follow. 

Smoke fell from the man’s marred lips.

“Run those tests again.”

But the woman right beside him didn’t move, shifting the clipboard that she cradled in her arms instead. Pages and pages of test results from various trials, medical and psych evaluations, were fastened to it. But she didn’t need to look them over again to double check and verify what they all indicated. She knew.

“Already done — they all came to the same conclusion.”

The man next to her was silent once more. His cigarette burned idly between his fingers as a thin smoky thread swirled away from the smoldering end. The woman handed him the clipboard, giving him a glance here and there as he flipped through the pages meticulously. Cigarette clamped between his lips as he read through the results. But the man found that it was as she claimed it to be. The test results were indicating the same thing; the subject’s designation status had indeed regressed. 

Wordlessly, the man handed back the clipboard. Pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out the smoke with a long exhale, processing it with a newfound clarity. Still staring into the windowed wall from behind his dark aviators. Eyes still dead set on the coroner gurney in the far center of the room.

An alpha turned omega…

Well, that definitely threw a wrench into the works. 

Such a phenomenon wasn't empirically impossible – just extremely rare; intermittent and indeterminable. An idiopathic etiology of menticide in theory. Although not unprecedented. Alex Mason, another hapless guinea pig of MK-Ultra, had suffered the same thing. Over time, throughout the process, Mason’s designation status had wholly changed too. At the flip of a switch, his biology had altered entirely in order to adapt to his new status. As well as the entire rewiring of an already broken brain. But Mason's biological transmutation had not been as drastic as the subject’s. Not as non-sequential; Having only turned from being an alpha to a beta. 

Even the man’s own brief employment with the Advanced Technologies and Applications program in Eastern Kentucky couldn’t replicate or even culminate such results in their human trials and experimentations. Yet he was used to things not all going according to plan, adapting and thinking on your feet was a part of the job. But this… this was more of a major setback than he preferred. Omegas only made things more complex than necessary.

“Adler?” The woman next to him lifted her thin brow at him as he brewed in his thoughts. Concerned by his prolonged silence. But his eyes didn't move to meet her inquisitive look. 

“This doesn’t change our mission.” He informed her. 

“Clearly,” She said, turning back around to view the bright room in front of them. Just like the older man next to her. “But it does make things quite difficult, however.”

Adler exhaled a smoky breath. And, after a moment, asked. “How do you think we should approach this then, Park?”

The woman next to him audibly hummed. Lips pursed in thought as her manicured fingernails drummed on the back of the clipboard. “Well, I suppose we still stick to the plan. With minor adjustments of course.”

“Minor adjustments?” 

Agent Park nodded. “And more precautions, yes. The subject will need a lot more necessities than before. More support, more monitoring. Omegas can be quite… ”

“Needy.” He finished her sentence. 

Park, in turn, gave Adler a look, sharp eyes narrowing. Sensing his surly mood. “ Sensitive . Omegas can easily go into distress if their needs aren’t met, especially if they can’t adjust to new territory. Let alone a new pack. No matter how temporary it will be.”

Adler went quiet again. Half cigarette burned idly between his fingers. He felt the fatigue weigh down on him even more now. The caffeinated surge of energy from his dark roast coffee prior was starting to wear off. And another cigarette wouldn’t hurt as well. 

“Didn’t take you for such an advocate, Park.”

“Only when necessary. It's effective when I encounter stubborn men too set in their ways.”

The beta woman’s goading was lighthearted, he knew. An attempt to nullify the sullenness that was growing palpable in the air. But he brushed it off nonetheless, like a piece of lint on his shirt.

Park eyed Adler. Watched as he pulled his aviators off and rubbed a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. Massaging at the stress gathered there, where his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Adler blew out a harsh smoke-filled sigh, hanging his aviators on his woolen vest. The bright fluorescent lighting was starting to make his head throb. 

“Adler. There’s no other contingency plan to fall back onto. In order to get what we need and when we need it, accommodations are necessary whether we like it or not. This is the only way.”

But Adler knew Park was right. To try and construct another course of action would only be detrimental in the long run. Time was going without a hitch or a hurdle. And who was he to ask it to change its nature? Results needed to be made and progress needed to be set into motion. 

“Guess, you’re right. We have no choice but to stick with the plan.” 

“With adjustments, of course.” Park added on.

Adler shifted forward, leaning his weight on the narrow windowsill. His aviators on the collar of his wool sweater vest clunked against the high clearance badge on his lanyard. They both stood there stationary, both occupied with their own thoughts.

“Hudson might burst a blood vessel over this.” Adler then said, breaking the silence between them. 

With a sardonic curl of her oxblood lips, Park only snickered. “Let’s hope so. It beats having him breathing down our necks for once.”

Adler didn’t say much more after that. Only stared into the lab room towards you – the sedated subject strapped to the gurney in the far center. A shallow crease soon appeared between his brows, tongue running across gritted teeth, tracing along pointed canines. 

An alpha turned omega…

How pathetic. 

It was almost pitiful. To witness how far the mighty had fallen. Not just for a Russian loyalist so high on Perseus’ totem pole, but as an alpha. For one’s very nature, one’s entire being to up and change. To crack and crumble under deceit and pressure. From a great redwood that stood tall against the gales only to be felled; whittled down until you were nothing but splinters of firewood. 

Admittedly, he had been impressed at first; Alpha to Alpha, face to face. Understanding of your disposition. Your stubbornness, your aggression, your loyalty to your pack’s idealism. Your piety to your pack alpha: Perseus. Even for a person betrayed by one of your own. Resilient to any traditional methods in their arsenal. Unbroken, unbridled. Even throughout the long hours of interrogation and torture. How shameful you were now. Pliant and pacified. An inferiority before him now. Adler supposed that you were never a true alpha in the end. There was always a weakness inside you it seemed. And such weakness needed to be culled.

But those grievances were more idiosyncratic, a disgraceful thing to his inner alpha. Your subjugation from MK-Ultra made you more useful now. Even if your brain was nothing but pulp and rind in the end. Omega or not, you were a vital asset now more than ever. 

And Adler would make sure to get use out of you. 

He was growing restive. 

Stuck in the office, sitting around all day, and doing nothing but paperwork. For a man of action like Adler, it was a fate worse than death. Like an addict, he was feening; an adrenaline junkie without an arrant dosage of the rush that came naturally within his line of work. What was supposedly a short-term position, lasting no longer than a few days, turned into a week of doing nothing but paperwork. He was a workaholic. But a white-collar worker was an antithesis to his very being. Being idle for so long was eating away at his composure and his patience wore paper thin.

But orders were orders. And protocol preceded him.

Adler had just finished up his tedious workload, eyes stinging from staring at papers all day, when there came a knocking on his office door. He turned just as Park opened the door, giving her a nod as she entered inside his space. The sterile scent of antiseptic and bleach clung to her, overpowering the stench of stale smoke and coffee in the room. A concentrated contrast that made Adler crinkle his nose at it. Feeling an urge to sneeze in order to clear his sinuses.

He watched as Park settled herself across the room, leaning against the filing cabinets in front of the desk. But even from afar, Adler could see her exhaustion. The droop in her usual head-held-up-high posture. Dark bags under her eyes, the blanch of her skin. Noticeable no matter how much Park tried to hide it with concealer and blush.

Adler leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes at her. “Any updates?” 

“Yes. The sedation was a success and the subject is recovering fairly well. Just a bit of sickness from being under sedation, largely for longer than was anticipated. But a full recovery is to be expected.”

He hummed. “It lasted longer than I thought.” 

The undercurrent of disgruntlement wasn’t lost on Park, especially as beta. So biologically intuited with the influx of emotions, even the slightest change. The beta woman adjusted the reading glasses on her face. 

“Unsurprisingly. First heats are unpredictable in how long they last. Some last a few days, even weeks. But even after, the heats that follow remain irregular. It takes months before they start to stabilize. Especially without an alpha to help.”

Adler made an interested noise. Mindlessly taking a sip of coffee that had long grown cold. “Seems intricate.”

“Quite so.” The beta woman let out a soft sigh, “But for the subject’s first heat to come so suddenly after MK-Ultra well …” Park paused then shook her head as if to stop her overthinking, “Well, no need to dwell on it further. It’s one less thing to worry about in Berlin. I suppose we were lucky in that regard.” 

“Hm, some are luckier than others.”

Park crossed her arms, eyeing Adler. 

“I suppose so.” She said, “But you know the procedures. You can’t be anywhere near the lab. You’re lucky you were even allowed to work, let alone be at the facility.”

“I can control myself.” He fished out a cigarette carton from the pocket of his leather jacket hanging off the coat rack next to him. “But filling out paperwork and filing it away all day’s not what I signed up for. S’not my job.”

Park smiled. “I think it quite suits you actually.”

Adler’s lips pressed tight, tapping the carton against his hand until a cigarette slid out onto his palm. “Do I have clearance, Park?”

She regarded him for a moment. “You do.”

“Good.” Adler settled the cigarette between his lips. “About time.” 

“You know patience is a virtue. Has anyone told you that, Adler?” Park exhaled out.

“All the time.” He mumbled behind his teeth, thumbing at his lighter. The cigarette in his mouth smoldered, catching the flame. And Adler inhaled. Then blew smoke out in a slow and steady exhale of breath. “But in my experience, patience is nothing but passivity and a goddamn waste of time.”

“As I said: stubborn men too set in their ways.”

Adler only huffed on his cigarette, lip curled at the edge. 

“We leave in a week. The subject will be ready before then.”

Park turned to leave but stopped herself, turning on her heel as she looked at the man quietly. “And Adler?”

He canted his head to the side towards Park standing right in the doorway. Cigarette resting between his blunt fingertips, simmering low. Lips pressed into a fine line. 

“Happy Birthday.”

She then left with the shut of the door and the click of heels fading down the hallway. Leaving the pristine smell of the lab lingering in the office. Despite its strong scent, Adler found some relief with it. Back on the job and back on the hunt for an entity that had eluded him for decades. He lifted a hand up his face and over his scarred cheek. Delicately, calloused fingers ghosted over the plunging trenches of the Lichtenberg-like scar; a lightning strike incised into flesh. Jagged and complex. Starting from his chin, the rough terrain of his scars branched through his lips and across his left buccal plane like a tree canopy. 

A reminder carved deep into the skin; a failure that Adler would not repeat twice.

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A/N:

Critique welcomed and encouraged as long as it is constructive and polite (don't be rude/mean pretty please ◡̈ ).

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| Next ⮞

[sleepwalk-station]

lone-walker asylum escapist, "Peet". ive been wanting to make an oc infodump post like this so here it goes! (warning. sorta long. with images)

// this will briefly mention unethical and invasive medical stuff but i wont get into details! //

grew up with a boring life, but at the age of 19, he was sent to an insane asylum after some psychotic symptoms appeared, he's not necessarily violent, but he's jumpy and super protective of himself, which leads to some misunderstandings. being strapped down against his will, and constantly tested upon with syringes.

after being fed up and basically tortured during his stay at the asylum, a blue sparkle appeared in front of his eyes, it almost looked like magic, and had a voice. it urged him to get out the HELL of of here.

after successfully jumping out of window from a great height and running away as far as possible, he adapted a new name and identity, Peet! that's what the friend called him. so why not?

peet hid around corners and tried to find jobs so he could find money for an apartment. most of the companies rejected him, but he ended up at a TAP facility. signing up to be a simple stocker. its a living.

progress is very slow and mostly peaceful, but overtime, the blue sparkle and its voice became clearer, and more sentient. like his own imaginary friend.

eventually, an enemy attacked the TAP facility he was at, and having nowhere to run, acted in self defense and killed the attacker. they saw the security footage and thought, huh, this guy is kind of good at fighting, actually. let's make him a guard instead.

then progress became faster- a more stable salary, albeit it was more dangerous, but doing his job no longer felt mundane, as months went on as a guard, his skills drastically improved with the help of his imaginary friend. :)

and eventually, another promotion. now, more independent, hes allowed to dress however he wants (but still confines to the rules ofc) and TAP helps keep his identity under wraps after finding out he's an escaped patient.

during his visit to an AAHW facility, he bumped into a girl, Yanik, who also just happens to be a magiturge. she grew EXTREMELY interested in his imaginary friend, and would often ask Peet to hang out with her just to examine him more.

He doesn't really mind this. usually he stays away from people because he's quite afraid that theyre dangerous (and past trauma from all of the people that have hurt him), but Yanik doesn't try to genuinely hurt him or do anything malicious. just a curious little wizard, is all. and maybe a bit of company wont hurt..? OK well yes these "spells" look very painful but hes usually fine afterwards.

yanik straps him to a chair just for extra caution despite nothing really happening besides peet just awkwardly staring at her with his arms tied to his back LOL

peet is physically very strong, despite his appearance. and can wield a waraxe with ease.

here he is, relaxing in his apartment :)

here are minor details to his lore:

he's based on my actual arena player, and my friend named him.

he loves collecting all kinds of knives, decorative ones, tactical ones, kitchen knives??? you name it. he probably has one.

he will appear in origami as a background character, and is acquaintances with agent crane. though theyre both kind of awkward with eachother and dont talk much. most of it is business related

sometimes he age regresses, and he loves collecting cute toys or charms. (his flip phone has a buncha keychains attached to it, as you can see in the apartment drawing) and occasionally play together with his imaginary friend.

hes a bit near sighted, and feels a little lost when he doesnt have his glasses on.

his music taste is car seat headrest, Weezer. ....and OK Go.

feel free to ask me anything about him! ill be doing yanik next.

[naturesapphic]

I love your latest story about Rhea...Brat tamer Rhea is probably my favorite, and I loved how she handled the situation...Please do more one shots about it (the little brat inside me needs it )🥺

Tamer

Mommy!Rhea ripley x little!fem!reader

Warnings: reader being a brat, age regression, punishments, spanking

“Y/n eat your veggies please. I don’t want to have to keep saying it again.” Rhea pleaded with you but you were being stubborn. “Nu! Nu wan to! It yuckies…” you pouted and whined. Rhea sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before warning you one last time. “This is your last warning princess. Eat your vegetables or I’ll have to punish you.” She said and you shook your head. Rhea sighed and got up and went over to you, grabbing your arm and putting you in the corner. “You stay here for five minutes do you understand?” Rhea instructed you and you pouted, not saying anything to her.

She lightly smacked you on your bottom to get your attention “words baby.” She demanded and you squeaked out a yes. Rhea nodded and went back to the table to finish her food. You on the other hand was feeling brave today and left the corner, going to your room to play. Five minutes have past and Rhea looked behind her to praise you for being good and taking your punishment well but when she looked, she saw a empty corner. She felt herself get angry but calmed down, not wanting to scare you. She got up from the table and went to your play room to find you sitting on the floor coloring with your stuffies.

“Baby…how long have you’ve been in here?” Rhea asked and you shrugged your shoulders, ignoring her question. She sighs angrily and leans down to close your coloring books. “Hey!” You said whining and Rhea gave you a stern glare to be quiet, which this time you did listen. She helped you stand on your fit and walked you into the bedroom. “Sit.” She demanded and you sat at the end of the bed. “When did you leave the corner baby. I know that you know.” She asked and you grew whiny and irritated again. “Don’t Nu! Didn’t wan to bes in da corners!” You exclaimed and rhea looked at you blankly.

Rhea walked over to you and grabbed your face between her fingers and looked deep into your eyes. “You better start telling me the truth little girl. Don’t make me spank it out of you.” She threatened and you gave her a shaky smirk, wanting to test her. “You are such a fucking brat.” She spat and sat on the bed and moved you over her lap. She pulled down your shorts and underwear in one swift motion. “You better start counting little one.” She grunted and started spanking you. By the end of it you were crying and begging for her to stop. She did about twenty in total and you only messed up once. Rhea pulled you up and sat you down gently on her lap, softly rubbing your red bottom as you cry in her neck.

“Do you know why I had to punish you?” She asked and you didn’t reply, still crying in her neck. Her heart broke to hear your cries. “I did it because you were not being my good girl that I know you are. You kept disrespecting and disobeying me and I won’t have that.” She explained to you and soon enough all Rhea could hear was little sniffles coming out of you. She stood up with you in her arms and walked to the bathroom. She got some cream to help with the redness and pain on your ass. Rhea started applying it all over your bum and you let out little whimpers here and there but Rhea was extremely gentle with you. She kept you in her arms when she put the cream away and carried you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen again.

“How about this. You eat most of your veggies and you and me will go out to get your favorite ice cream. How about that princess?” She tried to reason with you and you stilled whined a bit but nodded your head yes anyway. After a few minutes you had ate most of your veggies and Rhea was beaming with pride. “Good job baby! Mommy is so proud of you! Let’s get dressed and we’ll go get some ice cream.” She explained and you clapped your hands happily as y’all went upstairs to get dressed. The two of you came back down and went outside to rheas truck where she put you in the backseat and buckled you into your booster seat. The rest of the night was you and Rhea eating your ice cream outside of the place and then driving home to cuddle until the two of you went to sleep.

A/n: I hope this is what you wanted anon and I hope the rest of you enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[idontplaytrack]

Little secret

Regina George x nb! reader

Warnings: age regression, fluff, crying

In which Regina finds that you are…little after an accidental slip.

Requested!

The last two weeks were hectic, you had a test everyday. And then after school, you were off to work most days, only coming home after 10pm. Because of this, you hadn’t had much time to spend with Regina. She knew about the tests at school because she obviously had those too, she also knew you worked a part-time job after school— multiple days a week. You and Regina would FaceTime or at least text every night before you went to bed when you were busier. In other words, most of your time together with her would be at school.

Although…your part-time job was relatively new. You’ve only started it about two months ago. Were you more tired? Sure. Did you need the job? Absolutely. So you swallowed any unhappiness about the job and just did it. Regina seemed to have picked up on how withdrawn you’ve become ever since despite not saying anything about it yet. She knew you had better things to be worried about.

Today was Saturday, the tests have all been completed as of yesterday but you were currently at work and it sucked. It was so busy, and the customers have been so rude. You were trying your damn best to not lose your cool during such a busy time, and thank goodness it wasn't a day where you guys were understaffed. Noticing the time on the POS system in front of you, you saw that you had just twenty minutes left for your shift. Next, something completely unexpected happened: you saw Regina walk in and sit herself down on the bench by the door after a brief moment of eye contact with you. Weird, you thought. Why was she here? No, why was she here to pick you up from work on the day you decided you were going to finally destress when you got home? Destress by age regressing. That’s how you coped, and honestly, given the time you’ve had lately…it was terribly hard to fight the urge to not do so. You felt it happening, but you were literally forcing yourself to make sure it doesn’t happen, forcing yourself to make it through this shift because you finally had tomorrow off work.

You clocked out, heaving a sigh of relief as you went to grab your bag from the lockers. Then, you made your way over to Regina, greeting her quietly. “Why are you here?”

“To pick you up, baby. Why else? Haven’t had any downtime with you all week.” Regina bit back a smile, gaze softening when she looked at you.

“I know you’re here to pick me up, but— eh, never mind.” Your voice trailed off at the end.

Regina squints, worried at your frustration. “You alright, baby?”

You chuckled wryly, “Not so sure.”

“Wanna talk about it?” She asks, starting the engine of her Jeep.

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head no then looked outside as she started to drive.

She exhales, eyes glancing at you briefly, “Take a nap then? I’ll wake you up when we’ve reached my house.”

You nodded, then quickly drifted off to sleep without much trouble. It was better than being awake and worried, and worried about your plans to do what you wanted to do to help with the stress. But with the way she was talking to you, somehow being extra gentle than usual, your mind was easily coaxed into a regressed state. It was happening, and you were just avoiding it by being asleep for now.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, carefully shaking you awake. Your eyes slowly peeled open. “Hi.” She whispered, “We’re here, baby. Come on, let’s get inside.”

You nod, eyes barely open. You followed her lead, clinging onto her arm and walking into the house, then upstairs. Once in her room, you curled up in her bed, ignoring everything else— you just felt like napping. You were sleepy. You heard Regina moving around in her room, probably at her vanity to remove her accessories and makeup. She chuckles at the sight of you so comfortably laying in her bed.

“Sleepy?” She asked, “Or are you feeling sick?”

“Sleepy.” You mumbled, hands reaching out to her and you sulked.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” She asked, voice still soft.

You blinked innocently, “Hug?” You didn’t even worry about anything right now, you just knew you wanted her to hold you.

“One minute, baby.” She smiled crookedly, Regina was slightly worried. She’s never seen you like this before. Not that she was complaining by any means…because you seemed so very cute right now. Maybe you were just clingy? She thought.

While she was changing into comfy clothes, Regina asked if you wanted to do the same too, but you just whined. Another moment of concern went through her head, she sighs. Chewing on her lower lip, “Baby, is something bothering you?”

“No.” You told her timidly, noticing that tense expression on her face. Regina walked over to her bed and sat down next to you, studying you carefully. “I don’t want you to go through tough days alone, y/n. You’ve got me. I know things have been busy lately.”

You nodded, her hand rests on your side, endearingly squeezing it comfortingly. “I’m okay.”

“I know, bubs. You want a hug?”

“Yes, please.” You grinned cheekily.

“Mmkay, come here, bubs.” Regina opened up her arms and you quickly snuggled up against her.

“Can we play?” You muttered.

Yeah, no, Regina’s decided that you weren’t just clingy. But it was okay.

“Yeah, play what?” She asked, running a hand through your hair.

You hummed in thought, “Your iPad?”

“Weren’t you sleepy just a minute ago?” She laughed lightly.

You murmured, face buried in her chest. “Take a little nap, then we can play when you wake up. Deal?”

You shook your head, still not wanting to go to sleep. “Feel funny.” You muttered, arm now wrapped around her loosely.

“Hm?”

You sniffled, “Mommy and daddy yell a lot now.”

“They do?” She asked, soothingly rubbing your back.

You nod, “Yeah. It’s loud. So I hide.”

“It’s not your fault, hm?”

“It is though.” You breathed out shakily.

“No, it’s not.” She repeated, “It’s not your fault.”

“They yell my name.” You sighed, “I sit— I sit in my closet until I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s okay, baby. You just need to stay safe. You can call me, too, okay?”

“Okay.” You sniffed again. “…’m tired. School, work…so many people.”

“I know, I know…you’re okay. Just rest now, alright, baby?”

“Mmm.” You mumbled incoherently, nodding once again, “Will you leave me, Reggie?”

“Never.” Regina answered, “I promise.”

“Daddy left. Said he wasn’t gonna come back.” You laughed humourlessly, “Mommy was so angry.”

She didn’t know what to respond with, so she just let you get it off your chest while holding you and whispering words of assurances into your ears. “You’re safe with me, baby. Never gonna leave, okay? Never.”

And so…your little secret was out, and things weren’t so bad after all. When you had Regina with you, at least.

“Never?” You looked up at her.

“Never.”

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💭A/N:

This took me way too longgg. I’m so sorry anon😵‍💫