#rest assured that i have not stopped thinking about it

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: The Fawn Instinct.

Pairing: Yandere!BatFam x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Implied Dub/Con, Kidnapping, Prolonged Captivity, Social Isolation, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, and No Actual Incest, But Boy If Those Freaks Aren't Trying. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

If it’d only been Bruce, you might’ve been able to live with it.

You didn’t love him, but you could imagine a world where you tried to. Most of it was circumstance; as upset as you were about the whole kidnapping thing, it wasn’t exactly a Herculean feat to endear yourself to the idea of being a handsome vigilante millionaire’s stay-at-home captive-spouse. You had no room in your heart for the stoic, reclusive, untouchable Bruce Wayne, but you could remember the adoration you’d once held for your masked hometown hero, the pride that’d once given you the force of will to all-but carry a half-conscious man in a torn cowl and a familiar suit into your apartment and lie to the cops when they came knocking. If the conditions had been different, if he’d spent a little more time as something more intimate than a stranger and a little less damning than a captor, then maybe, you could convince yourself to love him. Or, convince yourself to try, at least.

But, the conditions weren’t different, and you’d never quite had the time you would’ve needed to align Bruce Wayne with his more heroic alter ego. It’d been doomed from the start – Icarus jumping from his tower, already knowing his wings were destined to fall apart.

That aside, though, there was the more glaring issue: all his fucking kids.

Calling them kids might’ve been too generous, actually. Only Damian and Duke were younger than eighteen, and as far as you were concerned, they were your saving graces – Duke for meeting the bare minimum requirements for human decency and Damian for adamantly denying you were anything but an unwanted burden on his father. The rest were more-or-less adults, as little as you wanted to acknowledge the nonexistent age-gap between you and your gaggle of stepchildren. They were grown. They should’ve known better.

Tim, for example. He had to be… what? Nineteen? It wasn’t the pinnacle of maturity, sure, but he should’ve known you’d be able to hear your own sheets rustling through the bedroom door, should’ve assumed that you’d know he’d know Bruce would be out on patrol until sunrise. He should’ve known to wait until you were in another wing of the sprawling Wayne estate, somewhere far away from the master bedroom, or better yet, skipped rummaging through your things entirely. You knew better than to dream, though.

The door was still shut, but what was happening behind it and who was responsible were both foregone conclusions.  It was Tim, because of course it was Tim, and he going through your meager possessions, because what else would he wait until Bruce was gone to do? Cringing, you rested your shoulder against the steady wood and knocked gingerly. “…Drake? Are you in there?”

Immediately, the rustling stopped. You went on. “I think Bruce is out, if you need him. Is there something you’re trying to find?”

It was a good out. An easy out. Thankfully, he was smart enough to take the bait. A few seconds later, the door cracked, a disheveled Tim emerging with a dark blush spread over his pale cheeks and his hands shoved conspicuously deep into the pockets of his hoodie. It was a struggle not to roll your eyes. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d come out with his dick still in his hand.

Your cheeks ached as you put on your dozenth unstrained, unworried, everything’s-fine-because-why-wouldn’t-it-be smile of the day and moved aside to let him out. “I’ll let him know you were looking for him when he gets home,” you assured, like you couldn’t see the way his bright eyes were fixed to the carpeting. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help. You all are just so heroic – it’s still a little hard to believe I’m a part of this at all.”

“You’re perfect,” he muttered, and you pretended not to hear him, cocking your head to the side. When he corrected himself, his voice was a bit louder, a bit clearer. “Don’t worry, I… I found what I was looking for. You don’t have to bother Bruce.”

“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He’s so proud of you and your siblings, after all – it’s practically all he talks about.” A lie, but a fair one to tell. There was no reason Tim should have to know Bruce spent the majority of your time alone with his teeth buried somewhere in your neck, muttering paranoid fantasies about how many different ways you could be killed, mutilated, or otherwise indisposed by the members of his rouges gallery. “Honestly, sometimes, it’s hard not to feel like I’ve been here for years, rather than just a couple of months.”

You only realized your mistake when those bright eyes shot to you, suddenly wide and blown out with desperation. A hand darted towards you, and you stumbled out of the way, but not quickly enough to avoid Tim’s vice-grip on your forearm, to spare yourself the feeling of something cold and wet sinking into your sleeve. “You’re leaving?” The words seemed to slur together, spilling out too quickly to be restrained or refined. “You can’t leave. Bruce won’t be able to handle it, and Steph, she’ll—I mean, security-wise, we won’t be able to make sure you’re—”

Internally, you were keeping up a steady mantra of ‘Thisissogrossthisissogrossthisissogross.’

Externally, by some miracle, your smile never wavered, only growing sweeter as you cut him off with a chirping laugh. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, and then, after a slight lapse, “Would you mind letting go of me? It’s—uh, it’s kind of starting to hurt.”

As if on a switch, he let go of you entirely, pulling away as abruptly as he lashed out. There was a mumbled ‘I’m sorry’, and he made a swift retreat, disappearing around the next corner before you could so much as think about bringing up Bruce, again. You watched him go, only letting your expression fall once you were sure he was out of sight.

Without further caution, you slipped into your bedroom, glazing over the mess of pulled-out drawers, overturned clothes and scattered dirty laundry in favor of falling into bed, rolling onto your chest, and screaming into your pillow as loudly and for as long as your lungs would allow.

~

You tried your best never to be alone. It was a little draining, to be honest – having to keep a running chart in the back of your mind of who you could trust and who you couldn’t, constantly trying to guess whether it’d be safer to be alone with someone or if you were better off taking your chances on your own – but you’d learned your lesson the first time you’d fallen asleep in the Wayne’s at-home movie theater and woken up to Cassandra spread over you like a human weighted blanket, staring unblinkingly at your face and playing half-consciously with your hair. You tried not to leave yourself unguarded, after that.

Alfred was your first choice, Barbra your second, with Bruce as a distant third. Sometimes, you could get away with loitering near Damian (something you hated nearly as much as he did – you could only stand to be addressed as his father’s “jezebel lover” so many times), but Bruce was at one of Damian’s school events, leaving them both conveniently unavailable, and Alfred would be locked inside of his underground shooting range for another hour and a half, an activity you knew better than to interrupt. Meaning, you were on your own.

Meaning, you’d picked a very bad time to need something to drink.

The kitchen was deathly quiet, but you still made an effort to keep your head on a swivel as you made your way carefully to a corner cabinet, like stepping on the wrong tile would trigger a pit trap, or a flurry of arrows, or one of another million terrible things you hadn’t thought were possible before Bruce dedicated himself so entirely to proving you wrong. Mentally, you reviewed your haphazardly assembled schedule as you fumbled with the wood paneling and reached for a mug from the highest shelf. Tim was definitely out, touring local colleges on Bruce’s behest, Step was supposed to be in class, and Dick—

Your fingertips made contact with cool ceramic half a second before another, larger palm wrapped around yours, a broad chest pressing into your back as your mug was stolen out of your hand. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

And Dick was on bed rest with three broken ribs. Right. Of course.

You really shouldn’t have bothered leaving your room at all. Suddenly, dehydration didn’t sound like such a bad way to go.

“Let me get that, baby bird.” You cringed at the petname, but nodded, letting Dick confiscate your mug and with it, your ability to make a swift exit from a conversation you’d rather not have. “Green tea, right? I know it’s your favorite.”

“On the mark as always, Dick.” There was just enough enthusiasm in your voice to overshadow the despair. You waited until you heard the muted click of an electric kettle before turning around and settling against the counter. “I wish you wouldn’t dote on me, though. I already feel useless enough as it is.”

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve been going stir-crazy all week.” He flashed you a quick smile – tooth and beaming – before pulling open the silverware drawer and rummaging through it, like Alfred would keep his teabags with his cutlery. He was topless, wearing the same pair of black sweatpants he must’ve slept in. He didn’t plan to go out, clearly, and it wasn’t like you had much of an alternative. “This is just the basics, too. For a while there, I had your breakfast, lunch, and midnight snack preferences memorized.”

You forced yourself to smile, albeit, not as brightly as him. “…did you, now?”

“Mhm. B had us running in-person surveillance before he finally bit the bullet and brought you home, and—” He cut himself off with a sudden laugh, shaking his head. “And, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part. Oops.”

Mercifully, the kettle whistled before you could start to consider the implications, and you reached behind you, fishing two bags out of a teacup-shaped jar. It was easy enough to edge him out of the way, but not having to worry about pretending he’d ever made himself a cup of tea meant he could devote more of his energy to talking, so you still managed to lose, in the end. “He’s stingier with the surveillance footage, now. I’ve never seen him so jealous.”

“He can definitely be a little overprotective.”

You tried to keep your tone even, polite, but Dick was like his siblings – quick to action and slow to take a hint. A hand curled around the counter next to you, and you dumped an extra spoonful of sugar into the darkening water. “It’s just us in the manor, right?”

Another spoonful, just to be safe. “I think Alfred is—”

“Out for the day. Wayne Enterprise emergency – I let him know as soon as he finished down in the range.” In your peripheral, you watched his other hand come to rest on your opposite side, caging you in. “I wouldn’t mind the company, if you were starting to get lonely.”

Another spoonful. It’d be too sweet to drink, but anything not to have to look at him. “I’m afraid wouldn’t be a lot of fun, Grayson. Honestly, I was just planning on getting a little sle—”

“That’s perfect,” he cut in, too eager to wait his turn. “I’m a great cuddler.”

You curled your hand around your mug, hoping the warmth would be enough to ground you. Instead, it only burnt your palm, and for a second, you could imagine a world where your teeth weren’t buried in the plush of your cheek, where you didn’t have to remind yourself that turning around and splashing boiling-hot water on an all-but superhero’s face wasn’t a good idea. For a second, you genuinely considered it.

And then, a sound not totally dissimilar to thunder filled the kitchen; loud enough to leave your ears ringing and your adrenaline spiked. You flinched into yourself, but it only took a moment for fear to shift to relief as you noticed the bullet lodged into the wood less than an inch from your head. Your expression lit up just as Dick’s fell.

Without waiting for him to let you go, you slipped away – sprinting across the kitchen and throwing yourself into Jason’s – brave, bold, beautiful Jason – chest. He caught you one hand and finished re-holstering his handgun with the other, laughing as you hugged him as tightly as you could manage. Dick huffed, playful offense failing to mask real agitation, and you felt Jason brace against you. “Jerk off and shut the fuck up, Oedipus.”

Dick’s smile turned uneasy. “It’s good to see you too, man.”

“I didn’t come here for you,” he snapped, as short-tempered with his siblings as you wished you could be. He looked down, holding you that much tighter. “How’s my best girl holding up?”

“I’m just fine, Jason. I do think we have to have a talk about how you treat your brother, though.” You glanced over your shoulder to Dick. “A little privacy? You really ought to be staying off your feet, too.”

Reluctantly, Dick slinked out of the kitchen, hesitant to go but eager to nurse his wounds. You only went on once you were sure he was gone.

“It’s been awful. I found another hidden camera in my bedroom, and I think Tim’s tapping my—”

“I’ll do a sweep.”

He let you go, but you caught his arm. “Please, I know it’s important, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing. It was irrational – the way you let your guard down so quickly around Jason. The mask never slipped around anyone else, whether you were afraid of them or they were one of your rare, precious exceptions. Jason existed outside of the Wayne family, though, outside of Bruce’s corrupting influence. He wasn’t going to hurt you. More importantly, he wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt you, either.

“But I really don’t want to think about that, right now,” you finished. “Just… just for a little while, alright? I don’t want to constantly feel like I’m walking on eggshells, at least not while you’re here.”

Jason stood strong for all of three seconds. With the fourth, he sighed, buckled, and shook his head, his exasperation brimming with affection. “How long until Bruce gets home?”

“Six more hours. He’s not due to check-in for another three.”

“I’ve got my bike out front. How do you think he’d feel about a joy ride?”

And just like that, you lit up. “It’d give him a heart attack.”

Jason pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.

“Perfect.”

~

Unfortunately, Jason’s visits were few and far between. You had to find ways of fending for yourself, in the downtime.

“I miss the city.”

Bruce glanced over his shoulder, gaze flickering over you before returning to the buttons of his dress-shirt. You sunk that much deeper into the mess of sheets and pillows, taking some small amount of solace in the way the cool silk felt against your warm skin.

(Sex wasn’t something Bruce came to you for often, but when he did, you gave it to him willingly, albeit with no more enthusiasm than was absolutely necessary. You rarely enjoyed it and always regretted everything you did or said during the act, but it was better than the alternative. Part of you trusted him, trusted Batman, enough to believe that he’d take your refusal for what it was, that you wouldn’t have to say anything more than ‘no’. The remaining overwhelming majority was able to look around you, to remember the way he’d held you down as he forced a needle stocked with medical-grade sedatives into your throat, and recognize that your opinion probably didn’t mean very much to him. Still, you couldn’t let things get that bad. Even if you had to surrender every other facet of your being, you couldn’t let things get that bad.)

“You hated the city. You said your landlord was a tyrant and that even the criminals were living paycheck-to-paycheck.” And then, after a second of thought, “And that there were more rats in Gotham than people.”

“Well, he was, they are, and you know I love animals.” You pushed yourself up, keeping a sheet bunched against your chest as you slumped against the headboard. “I was tired and overworked – you could see that. But, things would be different if I was staying with, say, my wealthy trillionaire boyfriend in one of the penthouse apartments that I know he has because his youngest son got in trouble for bragging about them in school last week?”

Bringing up his kids was a dirty tactic – the fastest way to get Bruce’s undivided attention. This time, when his eyes shifted in your direction, they stayed there, and he made his way back to your side of the bed. He collapsed next to you and, with no resistance on your end, pulled you into his lap. He didn’t seem to care whether or not his immaculately tailored, freshly pressed suit was creased in the process, but you did your best not to squirm. “You want to leave the manor?”

The first half of a frown tugged at the corner of your lips. “That’s not what I—”

“Elevated pulse, avoidant eye-contact,” he muttered. “Something’s bothering you.”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t wrong, either, but still. You would’ve preferred to be asked.

“…it’s your family,” you admitted, feigning guilt. “They’re all—” Horny, depressed, creepy little orphans. “—great kids, but it’s just been so much so quickly, and I think it… I think it might’ve been too much too quickly. For them and for me.”

“They adore you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dick was close to moving back in when I decided it was too dangerous to leave you to your own devices.”

You melted into his chest, sighing. Reflexively, he curled around you – a good thing, if a bit claustrophobic. Bruce liked feeling like a shield between you and harm, between you and the world he couldn’t control. Hopefully, eventually, he’d realize he had more to shield you from than greedy landlords and villains who always seemed to be just out of sight. “It’s not that easy. It’s just been such a rocky adjustment period, and…” You curled your hand around his wrist and squeezed, hoping the force would be enough to communicate what you couldn’t put a word to. “I’m really afraid something bad might happen, Bruce.”

For a moment, he seemed to consider it. There was a kiss to your shoulder, solemn and lingering, then another to your cheek, more fleeting. “I’ll talk to them. They’ll give you space, if they’re told to.”

If he told them to. You doubted you held much authority, here. “And the apartment in the city? On the highest floor, tall enough to see from Gotham to New York?”

Bruce smiled, and your heart soared.

Then, he started talking, and it crashed back down, dying upon impact. “Once I know it’s safe for you, sweetheart.”

There was another kiss, this one to the nape of your neck, then another, lower down on your spine. A calloused hand slipped underneath the sheet still hugged against your chest, and you allowed it to.

Honestly, it would’ve been kinder if he’d cut you into pieces and fed you to the wolves himself.

~

You made a run for it as soon as the arguing started.

Arguing, not yelling – the distinction was minor, but significant. Yelling would’ve meant an injury, or a mission gone wrong, or something else that signaled a sudden complication that couldn’t be smoothed over with sugar-sweet sentimentality or orders issues with an ice-cold strictness. Yelling would’ve meant Bruce didn’t mind letting you overhear, which usually meant you didn’t need to be involved. Arguing, all hushed whispers and hissed explanations and vague warnings, was different. Arguing meant, more often than not, that they were arguing about you.

It was Tim’s fault, as far as you could tell. Barbara had been the one to find the conspicuously encrypted file on one of Dick’s civilian devices, the one to mention it to Stephanie as a point of concern who went to Tim within the hour, but it was still his fault. He’d gotten Bruce involved, let his need for approval tip the tenuously balanced scales that kept his family whole and you safe. He’d talked them all into waiting until Dick was close enough to confront in-person, stopping by for his weekly equipment pick-up and check-in. He was the reason you’d gotten close enough to hear something about ‘pictures’ and ‘inappropriate use of reconnaissance material’ before fleeing to the mansion’s foyer – the only part of the house you could be sure wasn’t occupied. If you were lucky, you’d only be there for half an hour or so, enough time for them to compromise on some non-solution and return to your carefully maintained status quo. If you weren’t, you’d spend the early hours of the morning—

Something small but forceful hit the nearest window, shortly followed by another projectile, then another. The glass was too thick and the world outside too dark to make anything out, but you didn’t need to see anything to know who’d come to your rescue.

Jason.

You rushed to the door, then hesitated. Jason would only get a slap on the wrist for luring you out of the estate, and Bruce could never bring himself to be that strict with you, but now might’ve been a bad time. Tensions were already running high. Your little disappearing act wouldn’t—

A sudden rush of footsteps clattering through the ceiling from the floor above you, hushed voices raised just to the point of audibility. None of it was entirely coherent, but Dick’s came the closest. You managed to make out a half-choked “If you’d just let me—” before someone cut him off.

With your better judgement reduced to buzzing static, you pried open the closer of a pair of huge, mahogany doors and slipped out of the estate entirely.

Of course, Jason was waiting outside, a small stock of pebbles still in his left hand and, of course, you threw yourself at him, letting him catch and spin you twice before setting you back onto your feet with an airy laugh. A pitch-black sports car was waiting at the end of the driveway, the engine purring loudly enough to drown the rest of the world out. “Rough night?”

“You have no fucking idea,” you muttered, breathless. “I don’t care where we go, just get me out of here.”

There was a reason Jason was your favorite. There was no argument, no prying, just his arm around your waist as he herded you into the passenger seat. Fifteen minutes and a little over fifty miles later, the mansion was little more than a dull glow on the horizon, and you could pretend you’d stopped thinking about Bruce entirely.

There was no effort to make conversation, as bad as you felt about pulling Jason into your prolonged tryst with self-pity. Instead, you sunk into the leather of his seat and fixed your gaze on the passing landscape, clinging to any detail you were able to latch onto as it flew by. It was possible, between the subways and boarded-over windows and perpetually overcast skies, to go days without seeing the sun in Gotham. Still, your life had felt brighter there than it ever did in Bruce’s estate.

Jason turned down a road you didn’t recognize, and you managed to find your voice. “Are we going into the city?”

“Even better.” He flashed you a smile, the engine purring as he accelerated. “You’ll like it, I promise. Just sit tight.”

As if you had much of a choice.

Road gave way to forest, forest to empty plains, and empty plains to the dilapidated remains of what you could only label as a long-abandoned amusement park – like Disney World if there’d been some terrible, possibly nuclear accident followed by twenty or so years of absolute neglect. Jason’s car glided past the rusted remains of an iron gate, past the corpses of rides buckled under their own weight, and came to a stop in front of a paint-stripped merry-go-round almost entirely sheeted be vines and weeds and overgrowth. You let out a low whistle as he threw the gear shift into park and, for the first time in any vehicle you’d ever shared with him, pulled his keys out of the ignition. He’d always left the engine running while visiting the mansion, but then again, you’d always been pretty eager to make a hasty escape, too.

“I love it, Jason. I’ve always wanted to get tetanus from a broken down carnival.”

“A fair, actually,” he corrected, slipping his keys into his jacket pocket. Like he expected you to try and steal them while his back was turned, or something. “My parents used to take me here, before I met B. There weren’t a lot of Ferris wheels after that.”

There was a short lapse, the sound of lips moving against teeth. You made the mistake of humming, of glancing over to him, of leaving yourself open for another question, and Jason, as nice as he was, was more than happy to take advantage of you. “So, when did you and B start…”

He trailed off, drumming his fingers against the wheel. You filled in the rest with a breathy chuckle. “When did I start sleeping with your dad?”

He jabbed an elbow into your side. “First of all, you can admit you’re fucking him or call him my dad, but you’ve gotta pick one.” You opened your mouth, already ready to spit out some dumb joke about what Bruce would’ve preferred to be called, but Jason cut in, sniping your stupid joke out of the air. “Secondly, answer the question. I get enough of your diversions back at home.”

“Being a buzzkill must run in family,” you sighed, but gave in quickly enough. “It happened once before the whole kidnapping thing, when he was staying at my apartment and sleeping off a broken leg. I hadn’t even seen him without his mask on at that point, but I figured it was a sign – destiny, or something.” You did your best to smile, slumping against the door. “It was dumb. He gave me a couple weeks after bringing me to the estate, mostly because of the crying and stuff, but things started up again pretty quickly.”

“Do you… like it?”

“Do you like asking about your dad’s sex life?” He flinched back, and laughing, you went on. “I guess I don’t care. There’s not a lot else to do.” You swallowed. “Would it matter if I didn’t?”

For someone with so many questions, he didn’t leave a lot of time for yours, the hypocrite. Moving on swiftly, he asked, “And the others, have they…?”

“No.” And then, after a beat, “Not yet.”

He seemed to relax, at that. His back was still straight, his shoulders still squared, but his grip on the wheel loosened, his jaw unclenching ever so slightly. You tried the handle – locked. Obviously. As if you’d ever get that lucky.

His voice was soft, sweet. The kind of tone you’d use on a child, or an animal, or a doll. “This would probably be easier in the backseat, right?”

“Let me out.”

“So you can go where,baby? It’s just us out here.” He laughed, resting a hand on your thigh. You slammed your shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge. “Hey, hey, this doesn’t need to get rough. I’m not going to be like Dick. The others – they’ll do it wrong, treat you like a cut of meat they have to get to before anybody else. I just need to make sure you get out of this in one piece.”

Nails embedded in leather, body crammed as far from him as you could force it be. You weren’t hyperventilating, but only because you’d stopped breathing entirely. “Let me out, Jason.”

“I love the way you say my name. It’s pretty, and delicate – just like you.” He sighed, shook his head. “I know you don’t get it, but I’m just trying to take care of you, like you’ve been taking care of me for the past few—”

“Stop acting like I’m your mom.” A sob fractured the final syllable, another bubbling up from deep in your chest a moment later. Your body was beyond the point of rationality, but the soft, preservational part of your mind wasn’t so beyond the point of seeking refuge. There was a way out of this, as ghoulish as it seemed. You couldn’t stop it from happening, but you could make it better. You’d regret it in an hour, when it came time to explain yourself to Bruce, but what happened in an hour didn’t matter, not if you couldn’t survive the next few minutes.

You might’ve done it, too – or, you might’ve tried, at least. You wanted to. You planned to. And yet, when you opened your mouth, there was only one thing you could seem to say. “I don’t want to do this, Jason.”

His nails bit into your thigh, his smile easing at the corners. For a second, you almost thought he’d pull away. For a second, you almost thought he’d sigh, straighten back up, and admit this was all part of some cruel, unfunny joke that the two of you would remember fondly, later on.

Then, he laughed and leaned forward, lips brushing against the top of your head. You felt him speak before you heard his voice, but the cloying reverberation alone was enough to tell you that you would’ve been better off never saying anything at all.

“Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”

[whistlewritesforfun]

I had been (sorta) (kinda) (maybeeeeee) running a cult out of my ranch for years now. It was going pretty well I’d say! It was small but that made it inconspicuous. It was generating plenty of money for me and nobody cared enough about the run down ranch a few miles outside of town that the stranger individuals would visit frequently.

We had just finished up the usual “sacrifice” of a rat, a stringy thing I decided to put out of its misery after seeing it in a pathetic little tank in the store, when a blinding light emerged from its carcass. It was this odd grayish green color. Reminiscent of a rather painful turd or some especially stinky vomit.

Of course every religion needs a figurehead. I’d found some random God in an old history textbook from my mythology class. I’d just so happened to choose one that had a rodent schtick.

You could imagine my surprise when the little rat I’d just speared through exploded with that ugly green light, then warped and twisted. Convulsing about as it changed shape into what could best be described as a star made out of flesh, bone, and rat fur. It was hands down, the GROSSEST thing I’d ever seen.

And THEN the thing had the audacity to start speaking. Every utterance from its tongue caused another convulsion in the warped rat, a faint glow of that green emitting from the eyes. Which were much too far apart by this point. It really was horrible to look it, there were little bones sticking out and puncturing the flesh everywhere. Eugh. I should’ve picked a less gross god, maybe then I would’ve be in this horrendous predicament.

The warped rat body spoke to the congregation for about 30 minutes. For 25 of that I wasn’t paying attention because I didn’t want to barf all over my supposed deity. (There were little droplets of that disgusting rat blood on my ceremonial carpet. That particularly irked me.) For the last 5, I do not think I shall soon forget it.

“This my dear congregation!” (The rat… thingy… hovered a little bit closer to me.) “is a true servant! A true leader! And a true follower. He has blessed you with the gift of my existence. He has shepherded you along the way and through adversity to create my return! This man! He is now my high priest, henceforth until his death!”

“I’m what?” I couldn’t stop the blunt words from falling out of my mouth.

“You’re my high priest!”

“… riiiiiiiiiiiiight.”

“Do you… have doubts?” The rat-jumble asked, its scratchy voice reminded me of someone who was talking right after waking up, but very deep and highly unsettling.

“Am I really quite… priestly enough?” I asked, cringing slightly. It was evident I had made a very very grave mistake by this point.

“You’ve been preaching g for months. You brought me back from my slumber. I was sure I’d never be worshipped again. You are most certainly my high priest.” He… it… the rat thingy assured. I just nodded. I had entirely screwed myself. I was gonna be stuck with this cult the rest of my life…

“To go with your title high-priest, I will bestow on you a gift of my choosing.” Oh goody. Please don’t be dead rats. Please don’t be dead rats.

The rat sphere drifted nearer, the dripping of blood still grating on my nerves. Keeping the abject terror off my face was difficult beyond imagination. The orb then rotated so wherever the tail went in the warped carcass could tap me gently. As it did, I felt the most exhilarating burst of what I can only describe as rat magic.

“You shall be able to heal even the most sick and miserable. With your words, your touch, your compassion. The spread of sound and healthfulness shant be stopped but by your own limitation.”

I wasn’t sure what was appropriate at that moment so I kneeled. A particularly bad idea, as it now bug me in the rat-blood splash zone. I mean SERIOUSLY! This is the grossest vessel that he could’ve possibly picked! My carpet is entirely ruined!

With that final statement however, the pen fell to the ground with the most hideous mush noise, a few crackles, and what can best be written as a ��Skrrrrrrsht.”

Now what on earth was I to do with this information… or ability. I certainly couldn’t heal my mind from what I’d just witnessed transpire. Believe me, I was trying. The divine are disgusting. So I wordlessly lead my congregation out of the doors of my makeshift chapel, and to the Waffle House half a mile away.

As is usual for Saturdays, we all ate at the Waffle House in our congregation robes. Today though. The viscous syrup warming my throat brought to mind the mental imagery of the rat blood. I shoved it aside and decided maybe to forgo the waffles… just for today.

You started a scam religion for a quick buck. You begin to panic when your fake god was actually a real forgotten one awakened from new worshippers, declared you it's high priest, and granted you the power of healing.

[obitos-whore]

Naruto men with a chubby s/o

Tw: mention of stretch marks and weight loss, but overall it's mostly just fluff

(Includes: Kakashi, Obito, Gaara, Kankuro, Shisui, Itachi, Sasuke, Madara and Naruto)

────────────────────────────────────

Kakashi

Loves absolutely everything about you and doesn't shy away from showing you off to everyone

Touch starved bby loves to snuggle with you and use your stomach as his personal pillow. It's his favourite part of your body, aside from your face and hands

Would never judge or scrutinize you if you choose to eat something unhealthy as a little treat

Even though Kakashi is known for his level-headedness and overall chill demeanor, he has a zero tolerance policy when it comes to snide remarks aimed at you and will brutally destroy everyone who said the wrong thing with his words alone

Obito

This man is on his hands and knees appreciating you and your perfect body

Can't keep his hands to himself and finds it adorable when you chide him for getting handsy. (He just can't help it, okay?? You're just so soft and squishy and warm. The perfect snuggle buddy for the certified cuddle bug)

If you have stretch marks, rest assured that Obito will find them just as beautiful as the rest of you and trace and even kiss them oh so tenderly

Wouldn't hesitate to deck everyone square in the face who dares to say something even remotely insulting to you

Gaara

Thinks you're the definition of perfection and divinity

Loves resting his head on your thighs and will fiercely shower you with love and words full of adoration should you ever feel insecure about them (or any part of your body for that matter)

Would never tease you about your weight, let alone even think about it (#1 supportive king with the purest of hearts)

Should you ever find yourself struggling with finding fitting clothing, Gaara will ensure you're always dressed nicely/comfy by hiring someone to make clothes tailored to your preferences

Kankuro

Completely and utterly adores and loves you to the moon and back. And no amount of prejudice can or will change that. Quite the contrary actually. The more people try to tell him to break up with you and "choose wiser" next time, the more stubborn and protective he gets

He's cool with people making jokes about themselves, including you and himself as well. But he will intervene immediately if he feels that you are overdoing it and actively destroying your self-confidence

Shamelessly grabs and smacks your ass every chance he gets. He just loves watching it jiggle or giving it a firm, but not bruising, squeeze. His motto is: "If I can't grab it, I'll slap it"

He's your biggest hype-man and will stop at absolutely nothing to make you feel good about yourself and boost your confidence

Shisui

Shisui is not afraid of showing his complete adoration for you and worshipping you like those ancient deities. That's how high his standards are for himself

That man would literally die to have you lay on top of him and smother him with your love while touching you everywhere. And by that, I really mean everywhere

Loves to fluster you by calling you things like "Gorgeous" and "Sexy" and winking playfully at you (It's his way of boosting your confidence)

He's more than happy with your body and how things are. But should you utter the wish to lose some weight, he will be right there to support and encourage you on your journey

Itachi

When he looks at you, all he sees is a smart, attractive and overall just lovely person who deserves the world and nothing less

Will listen patiently to you whenever you're feeling insecure about yourself and offer advice and words of encouragement once you're done venting

On particularly bad days, like when you're talking about yourself in a self-deprecating way, Itachi will gently interrupt you and start listing all the things he loves about you. It hurts him seeing you being so harsh on yourself and counters it by being gentle in response

Doesn't give a flying fuck about what society considers "normal" or "desirable". You are the apple of his eye, his beloved. And he's pretty damn happy with you as his partner

Sasuke

Despite the general assumption that Sasuke is more the superficial type of guy, he actually doesn't care what body type you have. He loves you for who you are. Looks are secondary in his eyes

He won't judge you if you have a sweet tooth or like hearty meals, but he still makes sure you maintain a healthy and balanced diet, for example by cooking with you

If someone's mean to you, I guarantee you that be will not let that slide and make it his mission to teach whoever made you feel bad about yourself a very unpleasant lesson

When you're cuddling, Sasuke will gently trace the crevices in your skin, making sure you can feel his love for you in every single one of his touches

Madara

This man adores every pound on your body and does not tolerate any self-deprecating comments, joking or not

If you're feeling insecure about yourself, he will acknowledge your feelings and remind you that he wouldn't be with you if you weren't attractive, both inside and out

Can effortlessly pick you up and carry you around and will do so to prove his point (his point being that you're effing perfect and should give zero fucks about what others think of you)

If he catches someone saying something negative about your weight/appearance or even looking at you the wrong way, he will glare at them with his sharingan activated and put them in a Genjutsu where he makes them go through their deepest fears and relive their most gruesome memories

Naruto

Another supportive king who would go absolutely feral if someone offended you and would happily get into a fistfight with them to defend your honour

Absolute sweetheart who loves every curve of yours and thinks you're the most beautiful person on earth. He's not necessarily good with words, but he wears his heart on his sleeve and will make you feel loved and desired in his very own, unique way

Dead ass Talk-no-jutsu's you if you ever doubt yourself and/or struggle to see your own worth and beauty. You eventually have to shut him up with a kiss because otherwise he would spend the next two hours gushing about you to you

Clings to you like a baby monkey every chance he gets, because he just loves loves loves how huggable and soft you are and how much comfort you bring him

[choccy-milky]

Okay so I read your entire fic in three days and I LOVE IT!? ITS SO GOOD!?! I am supposed to be studying for finals and instead have spent 72 hours definitely not doing that. I originally got into your fic because I saw your drawings from different scenes and OH MY GOD THEYRE AMAZING. The way you draw Seb makes me want to bang my head on the table (in the best way ever)…that boy does things to me. The whole thing is just uGHHH chefs kiss amazing work love it love you amazing

AWW TYY IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT SM (ENOUGH TO BINGE IT AND IGNORE SCHOOL) AND THAT YOU LIKE HOW I DRAW SEB TOO💖💖😍😍😍

LMAOO but fr as a procrastinator and horrible student myself, im pleased with this theme of interfering with ppls schoolwork/thesis/whatever else to read my fic...im dragging yall down with me...just stop using your brain and enjoy sexy seb aha😜 (ILY TOO GOOD LUCK ON UR FINALS)

@jstfndmthngs omg thank you for such a long and in depth ask i hope u dont mind i just screenshotted it and cut it into 2 BAHAHA but THANK YOUU im glad youre enjoying it so far!! 🥹💖AND YESSS BAHAHA IVE ALSO BRAINWASHED YOU TO SEE SEB AND CLORA WHEN YOU SEE A BLONDE + BROWN HAIR COUPLE mission accomplished😈😈 and I LOVE THAT YOU DAYDREAM ABOUT SEB AND CLORA TOO!!! people thinking about your fic/art when theyre not actively reading it is the highest honour fr...😭🙏 AND BAHAHA I REMEMBER THAT COMMENT THREAD ABOUT LEANDER AND HIS LITTLE GARDEN PATCH LMAO and him and seb competing as neighbors/dads over who has the better yard...LMAO im putting in my oneshot that leander lives close by, i might try and find a way to allude to that if i can LMAOO speaking of IM GLAD YOURE LOOKING FORWARD TO THE ONESHOT 💖💖 ive been working on the outline every day the past few days and its 24k words AND THATS JUST THE OUTLINE😭😭LIKE DAWG i was planning on this oneshot to just be short and sweet BAHAHA but i forgot im fluent in yappanese...then i just kept thinking of cute pregnancy moments i wanted to add so it spiralled....BUT ANYWAY I HOPE I CAN FINISH IT SOON!!🙏 also im so impressed you only read 1 chap of my fic a day BAHAHA i admire the self restraint bc i could never...but i feel you with wanting to make things last. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU CATCH UP!!🥳AND TY AGAIN!!💖💖

omg anon this is diabolical...at first i was imagining it as seb being the one caught in the time loop and going crazy, but i actually think its better if its clora... because the idea of seb watching her slowly spiral into semi-insanity while knowing its bc of some weird time shenanigans and he doesnt know how to help would also make SEB go crazy BAHAHAH. i dont think ill ever write this but i just wanted to tell u i love this idea LOL

aw TYYYYY!!! i’m honoured u think so omg😭🥹💖 you sent this a while ago (before all of the recent family posting ive been doing) BAHAHA so i hope youre enjoying the kid content bc u manifested it girl🥰 and trust me i aint doing work for the fandom, the fandom is doing work for ME!!! by continuing to humour my brainrotted ass😔🙏

"they're my legal parents now" followed by "so anyway can you draw them going down on each other" LMFAOOOOO💀💀💀thank you i love you anon. and i HAVE been wanting to draw this for a while so YES!! i just cant guarantee when...but the day SHALL come rest assured🫡😇

[ravangie]

heya! i'm not sure if anyone had pointed this out before, but i'm amazed with you drawing body hair on Tulia... i have the same body type and face and arm hair thanks to my hormonal disbalance and dad's genes and felt very insecure about it. i know that it's natural and there's nothing wrong with body hair, but i couldn't help but perceive myself like a monster. but you made them look so... organic? beautiful? so i started to feel so valid. thank you very much. it means a lot. don't stop, pls!

Oh my goodness, I might start crying!! Thank YOU for reaching out! 😭🤲❤️

I made a point to myself to paint Tulia as authentic and according to the life that she's lived as possible: dark eye-circles, grey hair, wrinkles, side-burns, body hair and all. It warms my heart SO MUCH to know that my efforts actually helped you in accepting yourself as you are!! This is exactly why I was given the ability to draw, I think, actually 🥹

I know that hearing about something 10 times isn't nearly as impactful, as actually seeing it just once. Like you said, simply knowing something isn't much help, when the whole world around you tries to tell you otherwise. So I try my best to give our favourite ladies all kinds of different, realistic and unconventional - according to society's beauty standarts - features. You wouldn't call your favourite lady's face ugly, would you? So why would you do that to yourself?

P.S.: please note that all of us here agree that Tulia is absolutely gorgeous, so rest assured, you have nothing to be insecure about ❤️‍🩹

[writingdevil]

Tongues and Teeth PT.4 (STP)

(Fair warning-Cold is one of the two voices that I'm probably going to have trouble writing,so I apologize if I butcher his character)

*

Paranoid jumped off the rock,spinning around to try and spot the newcomer,useless wings wrapped around him for protection.He did a full rotation without seeing anyone,and he stopped,brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at the trees around him,until the stranger spoke up,"On your right."

He twisted his head to the right,the dimming of the sun making it hard to see anything,but when he squinted his eyes,he managed to catch a flash of movement.A blink.

That was when he realised that there was one of them here,leaning against a tree with his arms crossed,dark feathers blending perfectly into the growing darkness.

The bird tilted his head to the side as he said,"Hello there,"with frost exhaling from his mouth.There was only one voice that could be.

"Cold."

"Paranoid."

"How long have you been there?"Cold shrugged, and Paranoid asked,"Have you seen any of the others?"Cold took a second to think,then said,"I don't remember how long ago it was,but I did see Hero at some point."

Paranoid stepped forward in shock and longing, wringing his hands together,the ache in his heart growing bigger.Cold noticed,and only raised a brow at his reaction,but he couldn't help it.

He would only feel truly safe and okay once he found Hero.He couldn't explain it,but Hero just felt like safety,like nothing was beyond repair if he was there.It might have to do with the fact that Hero seemed closer to the Decider than the rest of them.

"Was he alright?Did you see where he went?"Cold shrugged,looking away."Not sure.He seemed to be in a hurry,but I decided that seeing what this new form could do was more interesting."Paranoid swallowed his scream of frustration,because this was just how Cold behaved.

He took a deep breath in."How are you enjoying your new form?"

"How are you enjoying yours?"

"It's awful,"he tucked his wings behind his back, hoping Cold didn't care enough to pay attention to it,"Now I have to actually worry about me,and the rest of you reckless idiots."

"I noticed Opportunist drop you here.You've been busy,haven't you?"He could've sworn that Cold's eyes darkened."Has he already tried one of his schemes on you?"

Paranoid clenched his fists,feeling Cold's eyes freezing him to the spot."We're just trying to gather everyone.There's me,Opportunist and Contrarian-and now you,technically."

"Oh?"Cold said,and finally pushed himself off the tree,strolling up to him in a relaxed manner,walking into the light so that Paranoid could see him better.He noticed that Cold's feathers were slightly on the thinner side,but not as bad as Paranoid's, and in the light,he noticed that the hue of his feathers actually looked a little lighter compared to everyone else so far.

He kept his arms behind his back,making Paranoid feel smaller than an ant as he said,"What makes you think I want to come with you?"Paranoid gulped, because he knew that convincing Cold to do something he had no interest in was an impossible task,especially now that they weren't simply voices fighting for control anymore.Cold could quite literally wander off to do whatever he wanted.

Paranoid chuckled,trying to come off as self-assured,but it only sounded anxious.He gestured around them."What?Is some dirt and trees enough to keep you in one place for this long?"

"Maybe."What?

Now he was really confused,because that didn't sound like Cold at all.There was no way that he was fascinated with the forest that much. Experimenting with his new body?Yes.Standing in a forest that they've seen plenty of times?No way.

Paranoid lowered his wings,trying to come up with a way to talk to Cold and get him to join them.But Cold had always been an enigma to Paranoid-their whole argument about pain was clear evidence of that.But Paranoid refused to give up-the thought of dying at the hands of her, was enough to send him snapping at anyone trying to make dumb and impulsive decisions.

But...none of that mattered anymore,did it?He could never successfully get the Decider to avoid all the horror that He went through,all the pain and trauma.Paranoid couldn't even escape from a monster without help now!

He wasn't as useful as he once was.Or had he ever been useful,considering all the agony they suffered?

"Oh,"Cold said,bringing Paranoid back to reality, "there's that look again.How odd.I don't think I've ever seen you look like that before."

Paranoid sighed,ignoring the comment."So you don't want to join us,I take it?"Cold hummed,then said,"Not right now."

"Why?"

"Excuse me?"

"Why?Tell me what's more interesting than watching us fumble around and try to get used to this new situation.I'd have thought that would've been perfect entertainment for you."

Cold blinked,silent for a moment,then let a heavy sigh out,cold air disappearing into the dying light. "Preferably,I would keep going until I found something that made me feel-something more,but it appears that solid bodies have...limits."

"Oh?So you're just tired?"

"I guess you could call it that."Cold backed away, until he was leaning against the tree again."For now, I'm happy to wait,until I get too bored again.Then I'll see what this place has to offer."

Paranoid made sure to not mention the creature he just encountered.

So Cold was just tired?He was just waiting for the energy to go out and try and feel something again?That was more understandable to him,but something in the back of his head was whispering doubts.Was Cold really someone to care about limits?He didn't even care about being killed by the Princess that much!

Paranoid took a step forward,and Cold didn't react. But he took another step forward,almost closing the distance between them,and then Cold asked, "What are you doing?"in that sharp yet soft voice of his,turning his head to look away from him.

But why ask?Why not see what Paranoid would do?Why was Cold-holding back,in a way?

Paranoid sighed in frustration,and that was when he noticed Cold's breath,thanks to the frost.He would've thought that Cold would be taking long, relaxed breaths,just waiting for the time to move again.But his breaths were coming out in quick, short bursts,as if he was trying to get to heart under control.But why would-oh.

That was when he realised-Cold wasn't bored and just waiting for something interesting to happen.He was overwhelmed,a feeling Paranoid was quite familiar with.

He once thought that Cold would love all these new things he got to explore-but perhaps he was wrong, and he wasn't as numb as he'd like to be anymore.

But the realisation must have shown on Paranoid's face,because Cold furrowed his brows,and without taking his gaze away from him,slammed his elbow into the tree behind him,causing an owl to cry out and fly away,and for Paranoid to yell out.

"Fucking hell!"he exclaimed,hands coming up to clutch at the feathers near his head,jumping back a good ten feet from Cold,who's smugness Paranoid could feel.

His body shook,and he placed his hands over his pounding heart,softly muttering to himself,"Heart, lungs,liver,nerves,"over and over again until he got his body under control and he no longer felt in danger.

At least his chant,despite everything else,seemed to be normal.

When he came to,Cold was giving him a curious look,and ignored Paranoid's glare as he said,"Tell me how you do that."

Paranoid sighed,but opened his mouth to explain it, a habit from teaching Hero,until an idea popped into his head.

Opportunist got Contrarian on board by poking at his ego,to make him want to be with them.Maybe Paranoid can do the same here.

So he looked Cold in his dark,unreadable eyes and said,"No."

For a brief moment,a look of genuine surprise came over Cold's features,before falling back into his usual blank mask.

"No?"Cold repeated,intrigue in his tone now."No," Paranoid said,crossing his arms and looking away, in the hopes that Cold didn't see the anxiety in his eyes."I don't think I feel like it."Then he shrugged, feigning indifference."You probably wouldn't get it anyways."

He held that position for a few seconds,until he felt footsteps approach him,and he took a deep breath, willing his worries to go away,and he turned just as Cold walked up to him.

He unfortunately towered over Paranoid.It was eerily quiet as they stared each other down, Paranoid having to crane his neck back to even properly look at him-so close that their chest feathers were touching

They held each other's gazes,and Cold didn't seem to blink,an intensity in his stare that had Paranoid's knees wobbling,but he held firm.

This should've been the moment that Paranoid turned around and left him wanting more,like with Contrarian.The longer he stayed there though,the quicker Cold would call his bluff,or give up entirely.

But at this proximity,Paranoid could clearly see the slight tremor in the other's body,the clouded, almost unfocused look in his eyes.Cold hid it well, but Paranoid knew when someone was overstimulated,from his own experiences and with helping Hero through his own struggles.

He couldn't look away,pretend to not care.He did care,even if Cold acted like he didn't,and he wouldn't feel right leaving him all alone in these woods.The thought made his stomach turn.

Cold may act numb,but a body doesn't lie.

"You're not as untouchable as you think you are," Paranoid said,clenching his fists tight to keep him on the spot.Cold merely leaned closer,and asked in a teasing manner,"What are you going to do about it?"

Neither of them said anything for a few seconds-until Paranoid sighed.

"Sit down,"he instructed,lowering himself to the ground.Cold looked at him for a second or two,then shrugged and sat down across from him.

"Give me your hand,"he softly ordered,holding his own hand out expectedly,palm facing up.Cold didn't tear his eyes away from Paranoid,yet still gently placed his hand in his.

"Are you teaching me your chant?"

"No."Paranoid closed his fingers around Cold's hands,immediately noticing how thin and bony they were,and he felt how they shook slightly in his grip.He was also freezing,but he figured that that was normal for the other bird.

"Close your eyes,"he said,and he waited until Cold obliged,before doing the same himself.For once, Paranoid actually felt sure of what he was doing as he said,"Take a deep breath in,hold it for four seconds,then breathe out for five seconds."He did it as well,and was pleasantly surprised to hear Cold copy him.

He rubbed a thumb over Cold's knuckles and whispered,"Now do it again."They breathed in sync, letting nothing but the sounds of the forest consume them,and Paranoid,even though this was for Cold,felt his own muscles relax and his wings lower to the ground.A part of him wanted to stay in this little bubble of peace forever.

But still,at some point,Cold's hand stopped shaking,and Paranoid whispered,"Open your eyes."

What he saw,was still Cold's blank face,but there was now a lightness in his eyes that hadn't been there before.He gave the other a small smile and said,"One day,I'll show you the chant,but right now you needed something else."

Cold said nothing,and Paranoid was about to let go, but before he could,Cold suddenly yanked him forward,and Paranoid yelped as their faces were now inches away from each other,and he couldn't bring himself to look away from Cold's intense stare.

Paranoid didn't dare speak-and then he felt a gentle squeeze from Cold.

A thank you.

Paranoid was too stunned to speak,as Cold let go of his hand and leaned back,content to sit there in silence.

However,Paranoid had too many strong emotions to speak right now.He thought that he was worthless in this new form now,no longer able to perform the way he used to,no longer able to protect the way he used to.But he was wrong.

He may be in an entirely new and unpredictable situation,and dealing with things that he never had to before,but he was still him.Just because he couldn't do certain things,doesn't mean that he can't do other things that are extremely valuable to his flock.The skills he has still matter,now more than ever.

A warmth spread through him at the realisation,and a soft smile was beginning to grow on his face when-

"Look out!"

Suddenly,a dark figure burst through the foliage, and Paranoid yelled out in fright,but still scrambled to his feet,with Cold in tow-although not as frantically.

The figure ran on all fours,running in circles around the area,until it stopped and pressed its back against a tree,and then Paranoid realised that it was Hunted.

His whole body was shaking violently,claws digging into the bark of the tree as his eyes darted around, never lingering on one place for too long,with his feathers sticking out in all directions.

Paranoid looked back to where he had emerged from,to find Contrarian had pushed Oppy to the ground,presumably to avoid Hunted,and a Stubborn looming above them just brimming with energy and aggression.

Stubborn looked to be as tall as Cold was,but where Cold was skinny,Stubborn was bulky,with sharp claws just itching to fight something.He was twisting his head around madly,a feral grin on his face as he said,"Where is he?!Where is that little pipsqueak?!"

"What is going on here?"Paranoid demanded,and Stubborn's attention immediately shifted to him, but his face twisted in disappointment."I'm looking for that little rat!Have you seen him?"

Paranoid knew he was talking about Hunted,but he didn't dare look over and give away his place in the shadows,the moon high in the air at this point.

"Why?Has something happened?"

"Yeah,and it's the fact that we haven't fought yet!"

"You want to fight Hunted?"Oppy asked in confusion,being pulled to his feet by an equally confused Contrarian.

Stubborn just gave them all a hungry grin full of teeth."Yeah!Now that I've got this body all to myself,I can really challenge it,and since the Princesses are gone and I haven't seen Hero boy around,that pipsqueak is the only worthy opponent left!"

"Did he want to fight you?"Oppy asked,and Stubborn sighed sharply."No!All he cared about was finding you lot!He wouldn't fight me all!"

Contrarian snorted."So you decided to just chase him around?Him?Hunted?"

"Well what other choice did I have?"

"Leave him alone,maybe!"Paranoid snapped,and Stubborn just glared at him."Why?What else is there to do other than to fight to see what we can take?"

"So you just want to punch things again?How unoriginal,"Cold commented with a roll of his eyes, and Stubborn let out a snarl at him."Well I'm sure as hell not gonna sit around and do nothing with this freedom,am I?"Before Paranoid could speak,he waved them all away."Whatever.I'm off to find the little runt.Don't bother me until I've fought and beaten him."With that,Stubborn stomped away.

Everyone was too shocked to speak,but then Paranoid heard a small sound coming from Hunted, and when he brought his attention back to him, dread filled his chest and made him rush over to him,as he realized Hunted was having a panic attack.

"Hunted,"he softly called,kneeling in front of him, but Hunted wouldn't respond,his eyes staring into nothing as his breathing came out in short,painful looking bursts.

There was no way he could calm him down like he had with Cold.But there was one thing he could do.

Paranoid took a deep breath in,placing one of his hands over Hunted's rapidly beating heart,and directing Hunted's hand over Paranoid's own,and with that,everything else fell to black.

"Heart.Lungs.Liver.Nerves."

His head tipped back,and there was only the feeling of blood rushing and a heart full of fear,but not of his own.Hunted's fear was like the whipping of wind,crashing and flinging about everywhere, twisting and turning,but with nowhere to go.

"Heart.Lungs.Liver.Nerves."His voice was firm yet calm as he spoke,willing the fear to leave Hunted,to see that he was safe,his flock was here and they were going to protect each other now.

It felt like hours had passed,but with one last whisper of his chant,and a promise that the danger had passed,Paranoid felt Hunted calm down.

He sighed in relief,letting their hands fall to their laps.It felt good-in a weird way-to do his chant again,despite the tense predicaments that it's needed for.

He slowly lowered his head to face Hunted,to find him staring at Paranoid with an animalistic intensity,but he knew he wasn't in danger.

Especially when Hunted gently cupped his face,and pressed their foreheads together.

[kandy-sticks-zaza-blogs]

Hi, I was wondering how the TFP autobots and decepticons would react to a cybertronian with the personality of Vander from Arcane and has the same backstory?

You don't really have to do this and sorry for my english😅

Transformers Prime x Vander!Reader

Well I guess I would try write this and make it correctly since Vander became you know spoiler alert. Sorry for not replying during 1st of march.

Vander become werewolf but you become Empurata.

Autobots

Optimus

He is surprised that you treated Jack,Miko and Raf as your children.

He knows that you missed your sparklings

He met you before the war and when he used to be Orion Pax he always went to your bar drinking your energon and how he missed the taste.

Ratchet

Ratchet loves how you didn't break his gadgets when you came in.

You always cared about Ratchet health and worried about him when he overworked himself.

You always make Ratchet rest while your in charge.

Arcee

She see you as a family since you fought along side her.

You cared that she got herself hurt that made you worried alot as she assure that she said that she is alright.

When Arcee missed Cliffjumper you comforted her when she lost him always reassure her.

Bulkhead

Two gentle giant big robots that protective of eachother.

Miko love seeing you two play fight with eachother

Bumblebee

Bee finds yo comforting seeing you as a parental figure.

Whenever you've gone to far beating up Decepticons Bee stops you by hugging your back if you have a problem.

"....Thanks Bumblebee."

Smokescreen

Mentor and Student dynamic.

Mr Destiny Child loves being treated as a son when he is training with you alot.

Wheeljack

Finds you pretty chill and amusing.

When he got injured you began to care and protective of him.

Ultra Magnus

He respected that your strength and protection for the one you cared.

When he lost his hands you touch his clawed hands reassure him that everything will be alright.

Decepticon

{Empurata Zombie version}

Megatron

You two worked at the same cabe when you two were miners before the war.

When you started complimented him that he think that you are flirting with him which actually works.

When he became Gladiator you congratulated his victory all the time after when he became Megatron you both began to fight eachother and argue.

He never see you again as he misses you every stellar cycles.

He see you again when the portal opened, his spark drop when he saw you turn into a empurata victim and a zombie by attacking him.

When he wait for you to regain your memories you recognise his scent as you hugged him.

Starscream

He see you locked up in the cell as he teased you by making funny face and making you as you clawed him.

When you regain memories you follow Starscream like a dog as he felt embarrassed about the whole situation.

Knockout

He is ordered by Megatron to make you remember and cure you but its hard when you are clawing at his paintjob which mad him mad.

He regain your memory when Megs is near you.

You began to become more gentle around his tool as Knockout find you amusing how you are so soft.

Breakdown

He want to fight you but cannot because Megatron said he will handle it when he first met you.

You two would fight alot playfully but also hang out alot on the mission.

Soundwave

He find you inferior when he see you again he knew you when you were still a miner and a bartender.

You began to help around the ship when Soundwave is busy.

Shockwave

Empurata are a tragic when the damned get their head removed being replace by a unrecognisable face you don't remember who you were before.

You slept with anyone on berth all day for comfort as Shockwave let you sleep on his berth since he is sleep deprive.

Dreadwing

Finds you intimidating but you are very nice since he cant hate you for this.

You protected Dreadwing from Megatron as you stopped him going full murder on Starscream.

Dw guys he's alive /Delusional

Arachnid

When you first met her began to feel snappy towards her knowing she's dangerous as she finds you interesting.

She try seducing you and manipulate you denied as she got annoyed.

[shirine0]

no worries guys i m also in charge of the hfjone anime

[cptnwynnie]

Normally, Edwin would probably find a piggyback ride very undignified, but landing in another universe is a rather tiring experience. So, extenuating circumstances and all that…

[asanjou]

I like to reblog those "guess who's prevs favourite character is!" posts to answer because i do love interaction i love to connect with my beautiful friends mutuals and adjacent on tumblr dot co dot uk but im always a little embarrassed to hand the prompt on. like Oh Boy I Wonder Who ChalicePoster69's Favourite Character Is The World May Never Know Who The Guy Who Doesn't Stop Fucking Posting About Hajime Aikawa Likes

[discoreptile]

Beasties of Greenhollow soundtrack! Some tracks on this are from older projects like elphame but all of them have been reworked in some way. Most of them are entirely new. Enjoy!

[seilon]

been having an overwhelming on and off feeling of dread all day over the thought of opening my email or getting a text or whatever and it’s Yet Another job rejection. like good god that’d fucking kill me

[musical-chick-13]

"You LOVE Wicked, have you seen the Wicked movie yet?"

See the thing about this is. There is a VERY SPECIFIC THING that needs to happen, in order for me to think this movie is good. And I do not trust anyone to evaluate whether or not that thing has actually happened.

And I only have so much money. And willingness/mental capacity to be with larger crowds of people (like in. say. a movie theater). So if I can't be reasonably assured I'm going to like a movie, I am not going to see it in theaters.

[hellishattempt]

nanami kento comes home on a saturday afternoon, hands full of groceries and hair freshly cut. in the distance, he hears his precious wife humming along to her favorite soundtrack. you must not have heard him come in. he smiles to himself, setting the groceries on the counter, but not unloading them. that can wait. right now, he wants to hold you.

he slips out of his shoes, padding quietly to the laundry room where you are folding towels. you have your back to him, headphones lodged in your ears. as nanami gets closer, the music bleeding from your headphones becomes audible. he chuckles softly. no matter how many times he tells you it's bad for your ears, you insist on listening to your music at just below full volume.

snaking his arms around your waist, you jump at the sudden contact. nanami presses his chest against your back as you take out your headphones, leaning into his touch. you sway in silence for a moment, nanami resting his chin on your shoulder. when you turn to face him, your expression changes at the sight of his hair.

"your hair," you state dumbly. "you cut it."

"yes," your husband muses. "is there something wrong with it?"

"no, no!" you assure nanami, studying his hair. "i just wasn't expecting it. you normally have me do it, which you know i don't mind doing."

"i know, but i didn't want to bother you on your cleaning day."

your expression softens at his words. nanami, your ever loving, ever caring husband, always thinking about you before himself. you reach one hand up, smoothing the hair down the back of his neck. as you bring your hand up, the freshly cut hair pricks your palm, and nanami lets out a low hiss.

you immediately apologize, pulling away. "did that hurt?"

"yes, but it's okay. it felt... good," nanami confessed. "... do it again. please." his voice is thick and demanding, and you obey without hesitation.

this time, you use just the tips of your fingertips to graze his undercut, beginning at the base of his neck. his breathing quickens as you continue to to run your hands through his undercut, going up and down, switching from one hand to both, thumbs caressing the sides of the cut. the laundry room fills with his melodic whimpers and faint groans. his eyes are shut tight, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"fuck..." he cusses lowly.

"you okay, nani?" you giggle, stopping momentarily. his eyes flash open, pupils blown. "kento?"

"let's go to the bedroom," he insisted, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the master bedroom. you barely have time react before nanami pushes you back on to the bed, practically ripping your leggings off.

"kento, what are you doin-" you try to protest, his hands clamping around your wrist and bringing them down to grip his hair. his head disappears between your leg, lips latching around your clit. involuntarily, your fingers tighten around his sharp undercut. he moans into your cunt, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body.

from then on, nanami kento always got an undercut.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 5:48

Bakugou’s in his third year of high school when he finally invites you over to his house. The reason? To finish a calculus project.

You’d think that after surviving through the hardships of being a hero-in-training together for three years, saving each other’s lives (more often you were the one being saved than doing the saving, really), and whatnot, he would’ve invited you sooner to his home (one could dream).

But this was Bakugou, after all.

And he knew that something was off the moment he left you to share a conversation with his mom while he went to get his books from his room—the greatest mistake he could have ever done because by the time he’s making his way back, Bakugou could hear you snickering to yourself.

Not a good sign.

“I’m not going to lie; you looked hideous when you were a baby,” you say, reading through Bakugou’s baby album.

Bakugou froze. He had absolutely no idea why his mother would cave in and give you the godforsaken album from when he was young, but of course she would’ve agreed with your request to see it if you did so much as mention it.

He dropped the books he’d grabbed from on top of his desk on top of the living room table before whipping his attention towards you, an indignant scoff escaping through his nose before he took a few slow, but heavy stomps over to you—practically snatching the album from your grasp when he’s within reach.

“Stop looking through those stupid pictures.”

“Hey! I wasn’t finished,” you reply with a frown. “You’re lucky my phone’s battery just died, or else I would’ve taken a billion photos.”

Bakugou’s jaw clenched slightly as he grumbled curses under his breath, trying to flip through the album in his hands to make sure you hadn’t managed to sneak a photo out—a small sigh of relief rolling off of his tongue to find that, luckily, it was still how his parents had done it.

He shot a glare over towards you, stuffing the album back into its original spot on one of the bookshelves, his nose crinkling as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t care; tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll drop dead,” he tells you.

“Oh, but how could I not? That photo album’s like hitting the jackpot—so many super ultra rare photocards of you,” you gushed, blatantly disregarding his usual threat. “Come on, I wanna see the rest!”

“Absolutely not.” 

Bakugou knew the damn photos were in the back of the album. There were probably a handful of the ones where he was in the bathtub, butt-naked—a common photo in most photo albums he’s seen, at least. Other photos include when he was three years old and wore an All Might onesie for his birthday, pictures of him during his school recital where he was the prince, him with a bald haircut, and so much more blackmail material. 

It was humiliating, for goodness sake! And he knew you’d just tease him mercilessly if you saw it.

You’ll never let him live it down, so it’s best to deprive you of it.

“Don’t come at me for saying this, but I was the cutest baby in our village back then,” you told him proudly. “Had the roundest cheeks and brightest smile, trust.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, a huff of air forcing itself past his lips. That was one thing about you that he couldn’t stand; you were so full of yourself most of the time—you’d always been like that, and he absolutely loathed it. It could be that it reminds him of himself, so the competitive meter on his head just flares whenever he’s around you.

“I doubt you were even 1% of how adorable I was as a baby.”

“Have you seen me?” you gestured to your face with your hands to emphasize your facial features. 

“I’m still as cute even now. And no offense, Bakugou,” you giggled, “you looked like a wrinkly raisin on your first few days on this Earth.”

Bakugou’s smirk dropped. He’d almost forgotten that you had seen the stupid pictures already.

“Shut the hell up. It wasn’t that bad.” He muttered quietly, his hands balling into frustrated fists. His parents always assured him that he was a cute kid when he was small—but to hear that YOU of all people, are in disagreement with that is just aggravating.

“Fine, fine. Quits it is,” you hum. “Let’s do that calculus project so I can get home before sunset.”

Bakugou grumbled something inaudible under his breath, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. There was no point in arguing about something so idiotic—after all, both of you were there to get a project done, not to sit around and bicker about his past.

He took a few steps over to the living room table before plopping down on the polished floor ungracefully, yanking out his notes before he gestured his hand over towards the free space next to him.

“Sit down. Let’s just get this thing done and over with already.”

Bakugou had already started working silently by the time you sat down; his hand was writing almost furiously as he copied equations onto his paper. He kept his attention focused on his notes, trying to stay quiet as he focused completely on completing the project.

He eventually stopped writing for a moment, turning his gaze over to glance at what you were doing before clicking his tongue at the sight. Bakugou could already see a few mistakes you’d made with your work.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he says.

“Wait, I’ve barely turned on the calculator, jeez.” You shook your head, solving the equation through your calculator.

“And that’s how I know you’re doing it wrong.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his own head in disappointment. 

“Formula first before adding 1.3.”

He pulled out a pen and began scribbling down on his own paper, glancing at yours every once in a while to compare the work. He knew from his experience that you were decent at math (he’d rather die than tell you that), but this was just pitiful even by your standards.

“Have you been dozing off during Ectoplasm’s class?”

“Ouch. Do you have a personal grudge against keeping the not-so-nice stuff from leaving your mouth?” you sigh. “You’re hurting my feelings— I’m devastated.”

He had a feeling you’d say something like that, and he was prepared to ignore your attempts at gaining sympathy from him.

“Unfortunately, you’ll fucking live,” Bakugou says, scribbling down the last of his work before turning it towards you. “And learn how to solve equations too, while you’re at it.”

“I know how to do it; calm down.” You huff, rewriting your solutions.

Bakugou raised a skeptical eyebrow, his head tilting with a hint of disbelief. Even if he knew you were capable of doing math, you had a bad habit of missing even the smallest details, like the operation to be used in your work, leading to the wrong answers.

His eyes scanned over the work you’d written on your paper before letting out a small huff. “Looks right. Are you done with your half?”

“Yep, yep. Are you going to write it down on our answer sheet, or should I do it?” you offered.

Bakugou glanced down at the answer sheet set to the side before picking it up and nodding. He was already holding a pen while you were still using a pencil, so it would make more sense for him to be the one to write it all down.

He began copying down the answers slowly and carefully, each number being written out with ease as his eyes flicked back and forth from the worksheet to the sheet of answers.

With him busy jotting down the answers, you occupied yourself with taking in the interior of his living room. It was beautiful, neat, and just screamed rich—not really what you expected (you really didn’t know what to expect, honestly). “Y’know,” you mention, glancing around. “You have a nice house.”

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes remaining focused on his task. It kind of took him by surprise to hear you say something out of the blue—about his house, no less. He’d fully expected you to talk about something else, like school or that new show you’ve been begging him to watch.

It went against what Bakugou had originally thought, which led him to look over at you from the corner of his eye, silently raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a nice house,” he said casually, his pen continuing to move over the paper. His penmanship was neat, and Bakugou hears you in awe. 

Bakugou continued to finish writing down the last of the answers, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed you looking around his house. It was obvious what was happening, but he decided to ignore it in favor of just getting the godforsaken project done.

He finished soon enough, his pen rolling back with a click before he leaned back a little and let out a small huff. “We’re done. Finally.”

“Nice, nice.” Glancing at your watch, you concluded, “I should get home.”

Bakugou was silent, rolling his shoulders and neck before glancing out of the nearby window. The sun had already begun to set over the sky, the day quickly slipping away into the night.

“Yeah, whatever. You need me to walk you home or something?” He asks gruffly.

“Nah, I’m good. I need to say goodbye to your parents, too.”

Bakugou watched as you packed up all of your belongings, a scoff rolling off of his tongue. It felt almost weird to be civil with each other, neither of you having taken jabs or making snarky remarks to taunt one another. 

“Alright, fine,” he finally said, standing up from his seat and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go find my parents then.”

He led you down the hall and into the kitchen area, his ears vaguely picking up the sounds of his mother and father talking amongst themselves about… something. He couldn’t tell what exactly, and frankly, he barely even cared.

“Mom, Dad.” He spoke up, capturing the attention of his parents. 

Mitsuki looked over at him, a smile spreading across her face. Masaru looked in the same direction, a warm smile forming on his face as well.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou,” you said in gratitude. “I’ll be going home now before it gets too late.”

His parents shared a hum in acknowledgment, with his mother being the one to speak up first. She had a knowing grin on her face as she clasped her hands together, her eyes flickering over to her son.

“You’re welcome. You should come over more often,” Mitsuki said enthusiastically, her voice taking on a slightly smug tone.

Masaru laughed as he nodded in agreement. He gave a knowing look to his wife before he looked back over at you. “You should join us for dinner; we already made enough for you to join us.”

“I’d love to, sir, but my folks are waiting for me at home,” you answered sheepishly.

Bakugou noticed the glance his parents exchanged and immediately knew what they were thinking. He almost grumbled in frustration, already knowing that they’d ask him about you later after you left.

His mother spoke up once again, her smug grin growing wider. “You’re always welcome here,” she repeated, her eyes flickering over to her son as her voice came out teasing. “After all, Katsuki’s always in a ‘better’ mood when you’re around.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it, ma'am. I’m a joy to be around, after all,” you lightly joked, though you still maintained a respectful tone.

His parents were easier to get along with than you thought.

Bakugou’s eye twitched in annoyance at your words, almost making him want to quip back at your cocky behavior. However, it was the sound of his mother’s sudden laughter that stopped him from doing so.

Mitsuki mother put her hand up to her mouth briefly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she continued to chuckle. The expression on her face was elated, and it was pissing him off even more, knowing what’s to come. 

“I like this one,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Masaru added, “And clearly, so does Ka—“

“All right! They need to get going to catch the shitty train.”

By the time Bakugou accompanied you to the door, he had this obvious scowl on his face. “You’re never comin’ back here again, dipshit.”

“Wha— no fair! Why am I getting banned from the Bakugou residence when this is my first time here?” you replied.

“Shut up,” he grunts. “I could do whatever the hell I want because it’s my house, too.”

“Too bad I have your Mom’s number—“

“Delete that.”

“Hey— wai— no way!”

It was not the last time you were ever invited to the Bakugou residence.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ring of Rage? More Like Ring of Engage

The thing is, Tim didn't mean to put it on. He was just kind of playing with it to keep his hands busy while he was thinking about the recent murder case. GCPD had their hands full with the serial robbers that didn't rank high enough to catch Batman's attention, and Tim never had a problem with helping the police if he had time.

And the ring was a perfect fidget toy, if he is being honest. Small and plain enough not to distract him, but the round stone in the middle was loosely attached, making it able to spin inside the frame. Which is what he did, again and again, like those fidget spinners.

Of course, he was just destined to drop it sooner or later. And then, when he reached under the table to pick it up, his finger caught inside the ring, and, well.

The ring was now firmly on his finger.

The problem was that he couldn't take it off.

It wasn't stuck, at least not in the general sense of it - Tim could easily spin it around, and it wasn't tight. But it wasn't loose either, and as soon as he tried to move it past the knuckle, the ring heavily disagreed, almost like shrinking down and absolutely refusing to be detached.

Barbara suggested soap, which didn't work. Dick tried for a more mechanical approach, first with pliers and then with a laser, which the ring resisted with no effort. Cass, who was actually the one who brought the damned thing into the Cave after one of her adventures in Hong Kong, just smiled and shrugged, which was of no help either. Damian offered to cut the finger off, which probably would have helped, but Tim rather liked all his limbs attached.

Bruce called Constantine. The magician took one look at the ring, barked a humorless laugh, and pat Tim on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Congrats, mate," he said, a wry smile on his lips, "I hope you file for divorce."

Although, while all the rest of the Bats and Birds devolved into fits of hysterical laughter (Steph), indignant sputtering (Damian), and cries of outrage (everyone else sans Alfred, who was pointedly unimpressed), Tim couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. Really, his life had been a shitshow since he was around ten. It's not like he didn't expect himself to be accidentally married to some otherworldly magical creature by this point.

The worst part - worse than the actual engagement, that is - was that Constantine couldn't exactly tell them who the spouse was.

What he did say was that the Ring belonged to the King of Infinite Realms, Keeper of Unseen Worlds, and Eyes of Universe. But those were only titles, and, as John Constantine begrudgingly admitted, there has been a change in the management recently, so no one really knew what the new almighty monarch looked like or what they were, much less their whereabouts.

"You can't blame me for not being keen to find out, though," John said, wincing, "The last one was a bloody tyrant, and the Realms operate under the right of conquest rule."

At least, the mage assured them that since the being had not yet come to collect their shiny new spouse, they might never show up at all. The Ring has been lost for ages after all, so maybe the King didn't even remember having one. Or, the previous King didn't, and the new one didn't know about or didn't care.

The first week after the incident, they spent anxiously researching and worrying. Bruce even went as far as making Tim wear a tracker at all times, which was not great, but he did appreciate the gesture. Kind of.

After the first month with no sign of any changes, the worry started to abate. In half a year, most of the family stopped trying to keep an eye on Tim at all times lest he suddenly disappeared. Two years later, even Tim himself treated the Ring as a natural part of his daily life. The stone inside was still a great fidget toy, engagement or not.

Three years, one month, and five days after Tim first put the Ring on his finger, when the world was falling apart and breaking in front of him and there was not a single thing he could do to stop it anymore, Tim pressed his lips to the cold, dark strip of unknown metal on his finger.

"Whoever you are, I don't even care, please," he whispered in a useless prayer, his voice hoarse and his throat dry, "please, help."

And the world came to a stop with a short, amused chuckle.

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask."

[part 2 ->]