#it’s like everyone became sheep

[nct127s]

the switch up on barbie is so strange to me, the same people who were all going to the cinema to see it & proclaiming it film of the year are now all the same people slating it

[shadowglens]

i really like the idea of olympia having a twin brother named oleander and him being a total c*nt

[zephyrchama]

Writing prompt: If MC had been a sheep since they came to the Devildom and then suddenly became human again, would the brothers recognize them? (Under the cut, all 7 brothers, SFW, written in second person.)

Others might have written about this before, it's a fun concept. In the beginning of the manga it's explained that MC appears to be a sheep for reasons. I like to think that they gradually change back and their sheep characteristics slowly become more human, while maintaining sheep-like qualities for a while, but it's more fun to write about if they just. suddenly. change back all at once, ta-da.

Humans sometimes face adverse effects when traversing realms. The unnatural spatial movement has equally unnatural consequences for human bodies, which is why you found yourself in the body of a small pink sheep when meeting the brothers for the first time.

Solomon and Diavolo say it will wear off in time, as you adjust to the Devildom. Your body will return to normal eventually, but they don’t know exactly how long. Its been quite some time now and everyone just accepts that this is how things are. You are a small pink sheep, and you are family.

You expected a gradual transformation - to slowly regain human features over time as you got used to life in the Devildom. That didn’t happen. Day by day nothing changed, until the transformation happened all at once.

Lucifer

Lucifer had seen your photo on the exchange student paperwork months ago. A generic little square image stapled to the application, hardly better than a driver’s license photo. He might have taken your paperwork out of the student council room and put it in his private office desk for safekeeping, or to look from time to time to remind himself you really were human.

He was the first one you thought to tell. A big change like this was surely worth a visit to his room, even if he was busy. You knocked your usual knock. Now that you were human-sized, you could reach the middle of the door, but the lack of hooves meant your knock was quieter. There were several seconds of silence. Maybe he didn’t hear you. You went to knock again, but a familiar gruff voice called out “come in,” from the other side so you reached for the handle.

There were piles of record book and stacks of forms upon the desk, but the eldest brother was still visible from the doorway. As if sensing something was different, he paused mid-writing and looked up. Lucifer was taken aback for a moment but quickly regained his usual composed poker face. You tried to hide a smile. Seeing him surprised like that was a rare occasion.

“I see you’ve finally gotten used to it here. Congratulations.” Maybe it was the soft light inside the House of Lamentation, but Lucifer thought you looked far better in person than in that photo. He put down his pen and crossed his hands under his chin. It almost masked the way he leaned slightly forward to get a better look at you over the large desk. “Do you feel alright?”

You nodded, it was strange to adjust to your old height again but you were glad to be back in your body. “You’re sure you feel fine? Come here,” he commanded.

Sitting next to him as a sheep while he worked had become so natural, yet doing so now as a human made you feel so self conscious. Your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding his gaze until he grabbed your shoulder and said “look at me.”

To you, he was just being overprotective. A routine check up on the exchange student to make sure they’re healthy after a sudden transformation. Maybe being close enough to feel his breath each time he exhaled was also necessary. To Lucifer, it was the time he’d been waiting months for. To see your glossy hair, not just a ball of wool, and study the contours of your face. How smooth your cheeks were and the way you politely kept up an embarrassed smile. Yes, the real deal was much nicer than a photograph.

Mammon

Mammon had no idea who you were, at first. You were sitting on the couch, wasting time while waiting for the next family meal. The front door slammed open loudly and closed with a bang. Mammon finally strolled into the living room after a long evening of make-up lessons at school.

“When’s dinner ready? I’m starvin’!” His boisterous voice made the house a little livelier. “And hey, where’s--”

He stammered when his eyes met yours and his voice faltered back down to a normal indoor volume. “Didn’ know we had someone vistin’. Hmph.”

Your jaw dropped. Was he really this dense? He couldn’t recognize you despite all the time you spend together? You turned around to watch over the back of the couch as Mammon walked to the dining room, then left to go down the hallway that led to your room. Several moments later he was in the kitchen. You could hear voices, but not what was said.

After some time he came meandering back to the living room. With one hand on his hip, he remained standing and leaned against the other couch. He was agitated and impatient, and with no one else around he turned to you.

It must have been five seconds, max, but it felt like you stared at each other for an hour. You pouted, glaring at the idiot who thought you seemed like an oddly familiar and comforting presence. “Who’re ya here to see? If it’s The Great Mammon, I’m a busy guy. I can’t just stand around. WIthout compensation, I’m leavin’.”

“Mammon,” you said. Just one word. You sounded hurt. It made his heart skip a beat, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Huh? What’d you say?” He heard you loud and clear. He just wanted you to speak again, to hear your voice once more and confirm he wasn’t imagining things.

Of all the ways you imagined showing off your human body to him, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Maybe you were wrong for expecting him to recognize you no matter what, but just like him you would never admit that.

“Oh my gosh, you’re a fool! Here’s your ‘compensation!’” Swiftly, you launched a decorative cushion square at his stomach. Your strike is nothing to him, but you landed an emotional blow when you went to storm off.

He grabbed your wrist before you got out of arm’s reach. Forcefully at first, but quickly realized he had to loosen up to avoid hurting you. “Wh- huh? Is that you? Why didn’t you say anything!? When did this happen?”

Walking away was futile as Mammon was rooted to the spot. “That’s really you, right? This ain’t a joke?”

He pulled you in towards him and spun you around to look at your face. You were mad and upset and relieved that he stopped you and embarrassed at having so many emotions at once. He finally knew, you're his human, alright.

Leviathan

It took a while for things to click for Leviathan.

He first saw you from afar on campus. He wanted to steer clear from you., like with every other student. Though he did do a double-take and stare.

He’d never seen you (well, proper human you) around before, and you looked just like the customizable characters you always created in his games. Same hair style, same eyes, same sense of style. His P2 was real. It was uncanny and he couldn’t wait to tell you all about seeing your player character wandering around campus.

That’s when he realized he hadn’t seen you all day. The sheep you. You were always easy to find due to being bogarted by his flashy brothers. You were one of the few to casually greet him every day as assurance he was welcome at RAD. You were human, and humans weren’t sheep. Didn’t Lucifer say something about that when you first arrived? Oh.

When Leviathan didn’t show up to classes after lunch you went looking for him. It was a tough quest. He wasn’t in any of the usual hiding places and wasn’t answering his DDD. He really didn’t want to see you. Or, well, he really did, but clearly wasn’t prepared to. You finally found him on a bench, shrouded by overgrown tree branches and isolated far on the outskirts of RAD’s campus.

Low muttering gave away his hiding space, unintelligible as he was biting down hard on his thumbnail while he raved. His hair was a tousled mess and from time to time he’d jump up to flail or shake his head.

“Lev-”

You tried to greet him and got met with a glorious, high-pitched shriek. You pushed on anyway.

“Levi! I’ve been looking for you. Notice anything different today?”

“You! Y-y-y-youuu!!” He could not look you in the eye, or look at you at all, but your familiar voice made everything clear. It took some time for him to speak again.

”You sat in my bed! You sat in my lap!” He referenced all the times you’d stay up late gaming with him. He never objected to that before. “You! You did all that! How could you?”


”I… thought we were friends?”
”Well I didn’t know you looked like that!”

All the wholesome memories Levi had of you two bonding, demon and sheep, suddenly changed. No longer were you a cute fuzzball sitting on his legs or snug against him like a plush while he slept. You were a cute human, with human features, sitting between his legs and being held against him in bed. Overnight you went from essentially a security plush to a real person, and he was having trouble adjusting.

“You lied to me! Aagh!” He kicked his legs and pulled at his hair in anxious frustration, his thoughts branching in dozens of conflicting paths at once, so you did the only thing you knew to calm him. A big hug.

He froze right up. You stubbornly told him “I’m still me, you know.”

“But you look…” For the first time he tried looking right at you, but all you noticed was the intense blush across his face. It made you smile.

Satan

Great Detective Satan picked up on your change quickly. It wasn’t hard to deduce for anyone who paid close attention to mysteries, like he did.

You hadn’t asked for any help that morning reaching for things high up. You didn’t ask anyone to carry your heavy school books. Most obviously, you were sitting in the dining room enjoying a hearty piece of toast when he also sat down to eat breakfast. Even though he didn’t physically recognize you, who else would be fearlessly sitting at the House of Lamentation’s breakfast table and happily greeting the Avatar of Wrath?

Rather than the scrambled eggs, Satan was most interested in you. He didn’t hide the way he stared. “You look different.” Slowly, eyes never wavering, he took the chair beside you.

”Oh yeah! Check it out, I changed back!” You went to stand up and show off, but first needed to wipe the crumbs off your face. Too bad the napkin just slid off your lap and onto the floor. “Ah, hold on, I’ll show you in a sec. It’ll be worth it.” You didn’t want to look sloppy on your first day as a human again, and although hands were easier to eat with than hooves, you had prioritized munching on delicious breakfast food over eating cleanly. Without another clean napkin in arm’s reach, you went to pick up what had fallen.

“Allow me.” Napkin unfolded, Satan leaned in close. Before you could acknowledge his offer he had a hand wrapped around your chin. The heat of his fingers could be felt on your lips through the cloth. He spent an unnecessarily long time tracing the contours around your mouth. A cleaning this thorough would surely ward crumbs off your face for at least a week.

A full minute later, Satan was satisfied and leaned back in his own chair. He didn’t stop staring though. You gave a heartfelt, “thanks! Now let me show you,” and stood up to twirl.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus recognized you right away. He was the only one not taken aback, and was thrilled to see you returned to full glory. “You look just like your socials!”

Not one to miss out on trends, Asmodeus had signed up for a few human realm social media sites. He considered it to be the cultural exchange aspect of your exchange program. On particularly slow evenings he’d even scroll through several years of your image posts and save the cutest ones. Asmodeus was very well acquainted with both your human and sheep looks.

“Do you have anything to wear other than your uniform? We really should trim your hair, too. That didn’t stop growing while you were a sheep, huh?” He was immediately all over you, twirling your hair in his long fingers while circling like a predator locked on to its prey.

“Oh really?” You hadn’t noticed your hair being overly long. You were just happy to be back to normal. “Yeah I’ve got plenty of clothes, but my hair? Are there, like, demon barbers around here? Can you help?”

“Leave it to me! And your nails!” His hand found yours and soon your fingers were entwined. He lifted them up, cheerily exclaiming “how about matching with me?” as he pulled you towards his room. It was hard to keep up with him, but at least you stood a chance now unlike before in that small body. He noticed, and with a cheeky grin turned to ask “you're not still having trouble? I’ll carry you, you know. And when you need another trim, you come to me first.”

Beelzebub

Beelzebub lucked out. He came into the dining hall for the most important meal of the day, just in time to see you twirl for Satan, proclaiming “I’m back!”

Your voice was the same, and you smelled the same as ever. He let out an astonished “woah” while taking the seat across from you. This new form was much better than the sheep one. His fears of accidentally hurting you with too much strength somewhat abated. Though, in his eyes you were still tiny.

“Morning!” you greeted. “Notice anything new?”
”Boy, do I.” Through a mouthful of food, he asked “how did this happen?”


“Dunno, it must have happened overnight. I just woke up and bam.” You flashed a pair of finger guns at Beel and he laughed.

After breakfast, you two became alone in the dining room. You piled up the dirty dishes and Beelzebub carried them into the kitchen as you followed behind, saying “we better hurry, I didn’t realize it was this late already.”

“Yeah.” He placed everything in the sink, then turned to face you. He held out his arms. “Ready to go?”

Carrying you to school appears to have become a habit. Beel didn’t even hesitate to gently lift you up like you were weightless. It was an everyday occurrence when you were a sheep. But back in your old body with longer legs, having his arm wrap around your waist without a layer of thick wool to cushion you, things felt different. “Y’know, I might be able to walk to school today.”

“Hm?” Beelzebub took a moment to process this. Like he had completely forgotten you got your body back in that short span of time. “Oh! Sorry. Force of habit.” Almost dejectedly, he crouched to set you back on the ground. You reached around to grab his shoulders anyway.

“Well, I never said you had to let go.”

Belphegor

Belphegor thought he was still sleeping. Your human figure was a familiar sight he had seen multiple times. It was how you manifested in your dreams, after all. Sometimes when you napped together he would pick up glimpses of your dreams. On this day he had made it to RAD with time to spare and was dozing off in his seat when you arrived.

Unreservedly, he dragged himself several feet over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder right next to your ear. “Hey.” This was a dream anyway, might as well enjoy it.

“Belphie, are you still asleep?” you asked. Physical contact wasn’t so bad, but it got embarrassing in public like this. With a futile shake you tried to rouse him. “Look! Did you notice? I’m not a sheep anymore!”

“Mm, yeah. You’re you.” Avoiding the lights, he buried his eyes in your neck, wishing it was a little darker. He liked you like this. But if this was a dream, why did the light bother him? Why was he still so tired? “Is it… Hm? What time is it?”

“Time for class to start soon. If you fall asleep again Lucifer is gonna kick your butt. Wake up.” You roughly ruffled his hair, causing him to groan and cling to your waist tighter. It did succeed in getting him to raise his head, at least.

After a sleepy pause, Belphegor seemed to grasp his surroundings. He squinted and leaned back, sizing you up. You couldn't tell if he was waking up or preparing to slouch down again until he spoke. “You really changed back? For real?”

“Yep!”

“Heh, good for you.” He pat your sides and let go. It tickled a little. Now, while you were distracted, was his turn to ruffle your hair. Payback disguised as playful praise.

[cutebat]

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

[4fahy]

i feel like people are forgetting some stuff about skk...

the whole point of skk is that they're both brains and brawns. that's how they survived alone for so long before becaming the double black. they don't complete each other perfectly, they suplement each other perfectly, that's why they're so strong.

chuuya is extremely smart and emotionally inteligent. at the age of 15 he was already the leader of the sheep, he got to rimbauld on the same time as dazai did. he can use his ability with crazy versatility, BUT he can still be fine without it.

and dazai can hold himself on a fight pretty well thanks. literally on the first episode he was alone against an out of control tigersushi. kicked the guy's face with a handstand from a sitting position while handcuffed. literally leaped out of the water like a flying fish holding his weight with just one hand.

chuuya could be on the same level as dazai and fyodor, but he's too human for them. he has empathy, and wear most of his feelings on his sleeve. and dazai could be as straightfoward as chuuya, but humans are so very interesting for him that he prefers observing, planning, picking apart the minds of everyone.

but

at the same time chuuya gets drunk with half a glass of alcohol and dazai bantered with a dog and ate dog food and both of those things happened on the actual main manga not on wan they're both weak and stupid and fucking pathetic i want to put them on a blender until they turn into juice.

[kierahn]

yandere prince x butler m reader

TO DEFY HIM. [ y ! prince x m ! butler reader ]

yandere! prince x butler! male reader

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

warnings:

noncon elements

blackmailing/threatening

exhibitionism

slight gore

general yandere behaviour

DEAD DOVE ELEMENTS (in very big and bold letters. please proceed w/ this warning in mind.)

request here.

i'm not sure if anon wanted nsfw or not, but i decided to include it anyways. sorry if you didn't want any nsfw with your request anon.

× your family had continuously served the royal family for generations which meant that you were fated to do the same someday. you met the young prince back when you were still in training. he was three years younger than you which made you view him as if he was your younger brother.

× he had always been the timid one out of all the other princes which made him the black sheep of the royal family. he was barely given any attention from his own family and the servants. it was a pitiful sight watching everyone neglect him simply because he refused to speak up like the rest of his brothers.

× so you decided to step in. you became a source of light for him; like the light found at the end of a dark tunnel, a breath of fresh air. you made him feel seen for once.

× as you two grew together, so did the young prince's obssession towards you. you were eventually assigned (at his request) to be his personal butler at the age of sixteen. his main rule ? never leave his side.

× at first, you disregarded the obvious hints of his growing obssession, claiming that it would eventually fade once he meets more people. he was only thirteen that time, you figured that he needed time to adjust with other people.

× however, this theory of yours was disproven when he turned 21. his obssession with you only grew with time and more rules were implemented over your head. it had gotten to the point where you started to feel both isolated and suffocated.

× you were restricted from talking to the other servants, restricted from sleeping in a different bedroom other than his own, restricted to say no to his orders, and many more. he was basically molding you into his ideal, obedient puppet.

× but then he drew the last straw when he decided to restrict you from contacting your family. that was when you finally decided to cut ties with him, unconcsiously snapping and raising your voice at the young prince.

× "you dare raise your voice against me ?" caine's dark eyes turned cold. you turned on your heel to storm out of the room after hearing his indifferent reply, frustration clouding your judgement. you seem to have forgotten that this was the prince you were taking out your anger on.

× before you could step out of the room, your path was blocked by two knights entering the room with your parents held captive in their grip. you stared at your parents with wide eyes before snapping your angered gaze towards caine for some sort of explanation. however, your anger subsided as soon as you saw the look on the prince's face, realizing that you were now treading on eggshells.

× it was a clear threat. no words needed.

× "your highness, please–" you frantically pleaded. caine had ordered you to willingly give yourself up and to pledge your loyalty to him in exchange for your parent's safety. as expected, you agreed to his conditions with little to no hesitation, desperate to keep your parents alive and unharmed.

× "they don't need to be here ! send them away– hng.. hah ~" caine ignored your words as he worked his way through your uniform, slipping off your vest and unbuttoning your blouse with haste. he attacked your neck with kisses, his other hand trailing through your bare skin, eliciting soft whimpers from you.

× the guards stood by the door, keeping your parents still and forcing them to watch the scene as ordered by caine. he wanted to make a point; wanted them to watch him take you, their beloved son.

× you continued to beg for caine to send your parents away before continuing, even as he stuck his finger inside your hole, you cried out for him not to do it in front of your parents. you could only look away in shame as you felt their stares on you and the prince, holding your arms over your tear-filled eyes as the pleasure eventually settled in after he was three fingers in.

× you felt guilty, knowing the fact that you got hard at the thought of being watched as you were pounded into roughly by the prince. you couldn't do anything but apologize repeatedly. ".. nhg.. a, am– sorr..y ! hng~ m..om, da..d." you sounded so broken as your moans and sobs mixed together to form a sweet sound.

× caine leaned in to capture your lips into a heated kiss as he thrusts himself deeper into you, not stopping a single second. the sounds of skin slapping against each other, your muffled moans, and your parents' sobs were the only sounds that filled the room.

× out of rage for putting you in such a humiliating situation, you made the mistake of harshly biting down on caine's tongue when he tried to slip it inside your mouth, making the prince stop his movements and pull away from you with a bleeding tongue. he sent you a harsh glare, his hand shooting out to grab a fistful of your hair.

× "are you testing my temper, y/n ?" he hissed angrily, blood dripping down his chin from the bite. "perhaps you want to be punished." he says lowly, a slight growl in his voice before facing the guards that were holding your parents in place. his eyes glowered towards your father's look of terror. "cut off the father's tongue, and do it slowly." he ordered coldly, emphasizing the last word.

× your eyes widened as soon as you hear your father's scream, realizing that you've made the mistake of defying the prince. you tried to push caine off of you, struggling under him as you yelled out towards the guard that carried out the order. "NO !! Stop, dad — PLEASE STOP IT !!"

× you were pushed back down to lay on your back, your wrists pinned above your head. caine resumed to drive his cock into you, with more force this time. your sobs and moans filled the room along with your father's scream and your mother's pleads for the guards to stop.

× you felt a knot form in your lower abdomen, indicating that you were close. after a few more thrusts, you both reached your climax at the same time. your chest rose up and down rapidly, trying to catch your breath. you cast your hazy gaze towards your parents after you felt caine pull himself out from inside of you, his load slowly trickling down your thigh. the last thing you saw was the guards releasing your parents from their hold, your mother rushing over to your father's side as he held onto his bleeding mouth.

× your chin was gently moved to face the prince who hovered above you which snapped you back to your senses, his gaze soft; a contrast to his cold-hearted actions. "remember this moment, or else i'll have to remind you again about what happens when you try to leave me."

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work. 

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had. 

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road. 

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate. 

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive. 

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion. 

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left. 

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look. 

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another. 

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything. 

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction. 

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John. 

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

[thankskenpenders]

What's your opinion on Lanolin?

Lanolin rules. One of the most interesting additions to the main cast in a while. I like that she's allowed to be kind of grumpy and antisocial and unlikable despite unquestionably being one of the good guys. She's just the one who treats the Restoration as an actual job. She's a normal person who just wanted to help at a time of crisis, and quickly ran into the limits of what she's capable of and became kind of jaded about it. That's way more interesting to me than if she was just the Cute Nice Sheep Girl who got along with everyone. She'd be so forgettable like that. Tangle already has enough besties! Instead Lanolin's the straight man. She's the tsukkomi. This gives her so much dramatic and comedic potential.

I like that she was allowed to fuck up so stupendously by allowing Mimic onto the team, something that I just know she's going to have to answer for once shit hits the fan. And BOY is that going to be some juicy drama for her. (Her most vocal haters seem, like... strangely oblivious to the fact that she's obviously been set up to fail and have to learn from her mistakes with the Mimic situation? Oh no, a story has a conflict that wasn't immediately resolved! How scandalous!) She also works extremely well in the current arc as the stingy race official who becomes pitted against Sonic when he starts interfering with the race as the Phantom Rider. That's such a great use of her character. Like, yeah, she's gonna be the no-fun narc who tries to catch the Phantom Rider, but also, like... interfering with the race puts people in danger! Sometimes you NEED a no-fun narc around as a foil!

As others have already put it on Twitter: she's the Squidward. Sometimes your story just needs a Squidward.

(Maybe I'm a little biased. Anyone who's played my game knows I think it's very funny to take a lesbian couple where one of them is a troubled introvert and the other is an excitable extrovert and give them a third wheel girl who's like "oh my god can you two stop staring into each other's eyes long enough for us to do our fucking job." Why aren't more people playing up the comedy of this trio)

[brucewaynehater101]

Just read a fic about Tim finally getting post patrol ice cream and his own renovated room after admitting to never getting any unlike his siblings and now I'm imagining an AU

Imagine this, Tim is tired, pulling an all nighter, because he did too poor a job at pretending as Robin, and it's too late to do damage control. Not in front of villains or heroes alike

But the people

They've caught onto how the third robin receives less than the first two

Robin acts less like a child, less like a son to Batman, and more like a 'Business Partner's as he said with his own words. Like a handler

Robin who has to put work into keeping Batman from overexerting himself, from cruelly punishing those who fall victim to him

Robin who receives less praise or care from Batman and cares for both himself and his "Boss" as he said with his own words

And it gets worse after the mantle passes down to Stephanie and Damian because the people notices how even as Batman treats them better than the third, now rebranded as Red Robin—

—Red Robin is still as much a Business Partner to batman as he always has been since the Dark Knight's loss of his second bird

And as much as tries to keep things buried, word is spreading that Red Robin is black sheep of the batfamily, and he won't be able to hide it for much longer

Have fun with this idea lol

I know the fic you're talking about! "with the exception of..." by DSS1101. That's a good one!

"Home Decor" by sElkieNight60 is about Duke remodeling his room as part of the new Wayne member tradition. This brings up feelings in Tim cause his bedroom still looks like a barely used guestroom.

The concept you've mentioned gives similar vibes to a hc/au post I read about how JJ (Joker Junior) isn't known by anyone but the goons/Rogues, Barbara, Jim, and Bruce. All the other Bats don't know. In consideration of Tim, electric shock weapons are immediately put away when Red Robin arrives on scene (I love that idea so much).

I think, with the Gothamites around when Bruce was going on his grief spiral almost killing spree, people feel a kinship with Tim. They couldn't have stopped Batman and, with part guilt and part relief, it seems only a child could. They watch this child, who seems to be sacrificing everything for a brutal and cruel man, and how he pulls Batman back into the symbol he's supposed to be. It brings out the protective and parental instinct of a lot of people.

This cues civilians, goons, and rogues alike trying to assist Robin in small ways. Tim as Robin had people offering him food (in sealed containers), giving him compliments, handing him scarves or hats (how could Batman let a child out in this weather without a hat?!?!?), and more. They tried to give him small moments to be the child he was pretending he wasn't. He obviously wasn't getting decent parenting at home if Batman was just his boss and his real folks were letting him out to fight.

There's a kind of guilty gratefulness towards the third Robin and a protectiveness of him. All young Bats are treated with care by civilains and some goons, but Robin three was special. He willingly became the barrier between Batman and Gotham. A lot of folks owe their ability to work (and not have exorbiant medical debt and medical conditions) to Tim. He saved them by damning himself. He needed the support Batman obviously wasn't providing.

Tim, as intelligent as he is, doesn't realize the affect he has on Gotham's older population. The younger ones will react with slightly more respect towards him than the other Bats, but they weren't around to see what Tim's sacrifice did for everyone.

Tim, with his self-doubt and hero-worship of his predecessors, thought his treatment throughout Robin was the work of those who came before him. Of course Gothamites trust and help out Robin when Dick and Jason built that foundation.

He's not exactly wrong, but it isn't to the extent they actually do for Tim.

Unfortunately for Tim, Damian and Jason do know that his Robin was treated with such reverence. They don't know why, but their Robins did/do not get treated that way. They chalk it up to Tim being the "perfect" and "can do no wrong" Robin. It's one point of contention they are unable to clear up due to Tim not knowing about it and the other two not wanting to explain their jealousy.

Steph was not treated as well as Damian and Jason when she was Robin. She, in this AU, was not treated as much of a crutch as Tim is. Despite that, her Spoiler/Batgirl/whatever persona gets some of the protectiveness that Tim's personas do. Bruce was more healed with Steph, but he was still an ass. That was obvious to any Gothamite watching.

Steph, because she was around at the time and talks with Gothamites to know what rumors are floating around, becomes aware after her death of why Tim's Robin is held up with such respect. This allows, unknowingly to Tim, for them to reach more understanding. With her knowledge of Tim's time as Robin, she's able to point out how he was being an ass, what he should've done instead, and that she herself was sorry for some of her actions.

When more and more individuals cue into Tim's black sheep position in the Batfam, this could go two ways.

One, Tim is targeted more due to his lack of support.

Two, Gothamites and Rogues increase their aid to Red Robin and become slightly cold to the Bats for their treatment of him.

[idyllicwillowtree]

God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me. (part 2)

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, swearing, angy Eddie, hospital

Author’s note: Thank you so much for the positive comments on part 1! I was feeling insecure about this fic so that was very nice y'all are so sweet <3

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.” 

All the Hellfire members whipped their heads toward you, witnessing an angry rash spreading across your skin and your breathing becoming audible as you tried to suck in as much oxygen as possible.

Eddie’s heart clenched painfully as he looked down at you, remembering the severity of your allergy after Dustin explained it to him one time. Still, Eddie was taken aback by the speed at which your symptoms were progressing.

You reached a hand out to Eddie as the choked coughs took over. He ignored your hand in favor of catching your body before it hit the ground. With trembling limbs he carefully lowered you to the grimy tile of the cafeteria floor.

“Fuck,” Eddie cursed, “Dustin! What do we do?!”

Dustin had froze. Panic set in as he watched his older sister struggle more and more to take in a full breath. A small crowd began to gather and the excited chatter of the cafeteria simmered into hushed whispers and gasps. Everyone was watching, and not in the way Eddie was used to.

“Henderson!” Eddie snapped. 

At that, Dustin went to work. “Mike, go call 911! Lucus, see if the nurse has an epipen. GO!” The sheep dispersed. Dustin picked up your bag with trembling hands and began digging through your books and school supplies, searching for the epinephrine injector he swears you kept in there.

Eddie turned his attention back to you, trusting that Dustin had the rest handled. At the look of panic in your blotchy and swollen face he almost froze too. A chilling dread spread through his veins as you began clawing at your throat, doing everything you could to open your airways. 

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me princess. You’re gonna be alright, gonna be just fine, you hear me? D-Dustin will getchu your meds and you’ll be good to go,” Eddie rambled, trying to convince himself just as much. He gently cradled your warm face and stroked your hair to try and soothe you.

With every second passing you became closer and closer to death. Eddie looked up in desperation. His red-headed neighbor (Max, he thinks her name is) snatched the backpack out of a distraught Dustin’s hands and turned it upside down, emptying its contents. Robin was there too and put a comforting arm around your brother while Max took over the search for the injector. Eddie was vaguely aware of a teacher trying to pry him off of you but he’d risk getting expelled for shoving a teacher if it meant staying by your side. 

“Got it!” Max exclaimed, holding the orange and clear tube triumphantly. She slid to her knees on your otherside, not hesitating to jam the needle into your leg and holding it there.

Eddie flinched at the force it took to inject you. You took your first full breath, allowing him to take one as well. Your eyes were drooping slightly as the medicine was introduced into your system.

“Hey, there she is,” Eddie said gently.

Your tired eyes met his and he could’ve sworn the corners of your lips twitched upwards.

The paramedics arrived and Eddie hesitantly let you go so they could treat you. It was a blur of navy blue and red as they hooked you up to numerous tubes and slid an oxygen mask over your head. 

You became slightly more alert at the sight of strangers surrounding you as the stretcher clicked into place, raising you a couple feet off the ground. You moved your head tiredly trying to catch sight of anyone you knew. Anyone to comfort you.

“Dustin, go with her,” Eddie told the curly haired boy. He looked up at him with wet eyes that clenched at Eddie’s heart. “She needs you, go on.”

Eddie watched the determination emerge on the freshman’s face as he walked through the paramedics declaring that he was your brother, allowing him to be by your side. 

Swallowing thickly past the dryness in his mouth, Eddie watched you get rolled out on the stretcher. 

He turned numbly to see that Lucas and Mike had returned and started digging through your lunch, in an attempt to find out what it was that could’ve caused your reaction. As the two predictably began to bicker, Eddie grabbed the cup of applesauce and slowly brought the spoon out. To his horror, he scooped out a few small round nuts mixed with the smooth texture of the applesauce. 

His darkened eyes snapped up, immediately finding Jason. He at least had the decency to look scared, his skin white as a sheet. True terror shining through as he came to realize the severity of what he did. He shook his head slightly, pleading with Eddie. For what, he wasn’t sure. But he could give a shit.

The grip on the applesauce tightened, causing it to tremble, before he launched it in Jason's general direction. A fire of rage lit up Eddie's entire being, consuming any reason or restraint within him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You could’ve killed her!!” Eddie roared, the words ripping from his throat like a thunderclap.  Every fiber in his being screamed for justice, determined to ensure that no harm would ever come to you again. 

“I-I-I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to-” Jason blubbered.

“Not good enough!” Eddie snapped. He charged forward, driven by the need to avenge your pain. Just when he was closing the distance between them a thick arm wrapped around his upper body. “LET ME GO!”

Eddie struggled against the firm grip that held him back from doing to Jason what he should've done a long time ago. If Eddie was strong enough, he could've saved you, stopped all of this bullying in its tracks before Jason had ever even looked in your direction. His strength never came from muscles or brute force, but from his anger—the primal need to protect those he loved. He was so consumed by his rage that a red haze blurred his vision. Or were those his tears?

“Eddie, man, don’t do this,” Doug said, doing his best to calm his friend.

“Please,” Eddie pleaded, losing some of his fight. “Just let me go.” 

“Dude, if you get into a fight you won’t be able to see Y/N in the hospital,” the bassist whispered in Eddie’s ear. He looked over and saw Principle Coleman closing in on them, there wasn’t much time left. “We can handle it, just go while you can.”

A wave of overwhelming frustration washed over Eddie as the struggle against Doug’s hold diminished. Tears welled up in his eyes as his chest released his rage and tightened back up with helplessness and despair.

He didn’t let it consume him though, taking off in the opposite direction of the principle, his sheep following close behind.

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

When the van ripped into the hospital parking lot, Eddie finally took notice of how many stowaways he had. Lucas, Mike, Max, Robin, and even Nancy all burst through the double doors at the back of his skunky smelling van and made their way to the emergency room entrance.

Eddie was the first one through the doors, eyes scanning the waiting area for his curly haired friend. What he wasn’t expecting to see was the one and only King Steve sitting with the boy. 

Steve noticed them first, taking the lead on letting them know what’s going on. He explained that you’d be fine but the doctors are running some tests and getting you hooked up to the necessary machines. It’ll be a little longer before Eddie gets to see you with his own eyes.

Eddie turned on his heel and walked through the doors he just came through as Steve explained that your mom was called but was on a trip with her girlfriends and won’t be able to make it back until tomorrow.

The disinfected smell of the hospital only offered to heighten Eddie’s desire for a cigarette. He finds solace in the only coping mechanism he has under his belt, even if he knew it was bad for him in the long run. The stress of the day weighed heavily on him as he leaned on the brick wall of the hospital outside. The familiar routine of lighting up offered a good distraction, the only way to momentarily ease his anxiety.

That was until your brother found him. He silently stood next to him, not feeling the need to fill the silence with anything but the gentle breeze and the birds chirping in the distance. But it made Eddie feel uneasy.

“I’d offer you a smoke, but I don’t want to corrupt you more than I already have,” Eddie said with a sad laugh.

Ignoring Eddie’s comment, Dustin asked, “you remember that one time when Hellfire came over to my house for a session? When the theater kids needed the drama room at school?”

Eddie nodded his head slowly, releasing the smoke from his lungs as he did so.

“I was still in middle school so I had only heard about you from Y/N. She had this weird way of speaking about you. It was in a way I had never heard her speak about anyone before.”

Eddie’s heart punched against his ribs painfully, his insecurities taking over.

“She was nice enough to let me watch your campaign so I could get ideas for the campaign I was doing with Mike and Lucas, and our other friend Will. I think she regretted it because of the Reese's Pieces incident.”

Eddie couldn’t help but start chuckling embarrassingly at the memory. “God, that was so stupid,” he smacked his forehead in an attempt to stop his mind from reliving one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. 

-

The Hellfire members flooded into your home, bringing chips, candy, and drinks to share. Your first time hosting the club was going great, until Dustin noticed the bag of Reese’s Pieces in Eddie’s hand.

“My sister is too nice to say anything but-” Dustin started.

“Stop, Dustin-”

“-we can’t have those in the house.”

Eddie’s eyebrows pinched beneath his bangs, “what? Why not?”

“She’s allergic to peanuts.”

Before you could roll your eyes at your little brother and reassure him it was fine, Eddie turned and chucked the bag out your kitchen’s open window leaving you standing there in shock and Eddie horrified by his own impulse.

-

“I think that’s when she fell in love with you.”

Eddie’s head whipped over to Dustin. The kid had the audacity to look smug after completely shattering his world view. His mind spun with the revelation.

Love, a word so potent, was now intertwined with his thoughts of your relationship. Eddie knew he liked you, a lot, but his brain never brought him to love. He replayed moments from your friendship in his head, searching for the signs, trying to decipher if Dustin was telling the truth. If the sentiment was truly real. A mix of surprise and uncertainty overwhelmed him, but there was also something warm and hopeful there. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

He needed to see you and hear it from you directly. A million thoughts and memories raced through his mind, but one thing was clear–he needed to be with you, to tell you how he felt.

part 3

tags: @beeblisss @fishwithtitz @leah-loves-lilies

[ohbabydollie]

jschlatt x reader who’s so much more confident through text and so shy irl and when he finally meets u he can’t help but tease u the entire time about how shy u are

😁👍 slightly suggestive

you guys became mutual friends accidentally, being in a random discord server together talking on a call that lead to a friendship people didn’t expect

he had only known you online, never meeting you in person and painting a picture of you

he thought you were bold and not shy remotely

calling him mid-stream

“hey, if jambo and [redacted] still need a mommy i could volunteer, you can call me mommy too if ya want” you say smiling as he shows the stream your facetime

the chat blew up with ‘she’s a baddie’, ‘schlatt, if u don’t fuck her i will’, ‘she can fix me’, ‘she can make me worse’, etc.

texting him flirtatiously which his chat has caught on multiple occasions whenever he shows them his phone

he has his mods do damage control for the hundredth stream in a row

even just posting photos with flirtatious captions he knows is directed towards him

a picture of you in a sheep themed bikini with a caption of ‘he makes my daddy issues act up’

EVERYONE IS FREAKING OUT

so many angry simps bashing schlatt for ‘stealing’ you

everyone is FLABBERGASTED from how straight forward you’re being, how obvious you are and how you’re so much bolder than before

they couldn’t wait until your meet up with schlatt and a few others to make some summertime content

everyone thought fan service would be amped up

it ends with you shyly looking up at schlatt, a soft “hi” leaving your mouth

ted acts like a dad whose trying to get his kid to tell the waitress what they want

“c’mon n/n, schlatt doesn’t bite” ted says pushing you towards him

“i won’t unless you’re into that” schlatt says flashing you a smile as you go red in the face

any second the both of you are alone he’s on you

“was that all over the phone just big talk?” he asks cornering you

“n-no! your height is just intimidating” you say putting your hands on his chest

“intimidating? huh? i bet it is for a shy little thing like you” he says smiling as you feel yourself blushing

it’s humiliating and embarrassing

schlatt would take any chance he gets to fluster you and flirt

if you run off to get drinks, he’s slapping your ass and calling you a good girl

if you make him something to eat he’s making a joke about eating you out

any chance he gets to make you blush he’s taking it

“this is the second best thing im gonna eat tonight” schlatt says biting down on a burger before looking at you, “you’re the first”

[shuenkio]

Pretty please | Yjw. 🐇

Paring: Jungwon x m!reader : Genre: Fluffy

Synopsis: He was desperate to have you when he heard a conversation you'd never date him.

Cw: Cheesy line attack (12am cringe thought expect less y'all)

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st lang

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

Crd dividers (Anitalenia) and the owner of pics

A&N: Head empty once filled when I was listening to ' pretty please ' such a mood what if he'd do these— (jkd au) you called these drabble right? Not sure... [This was so cringe at some point naurrr]

Imagine living your normal life peacefully until a cute guy comes crushing in. His name really did explain his own character. Like garden sheep? Pretty new and adorable.

But that was your first impression of him on the day you first met him in front of the school office. His face is round like a dumpling, his sharp eye liner is tight up above the end corner like a cat's eyes, and his pupils are as cute as boba. Jungwon is the most bubbly, lovely little guy ever. And it's actually what you were thinking back then.

Present time, He was a total opposite. Jungwon became taller, had buff body proportions, and last but not least, his maturity turned manly. Everyone would not dare approach him at school since his look could kill well for you; this was an exception. He still acts silly, like a ball of sunshine, just to get your eyes only. Who knows, maybe both of you are friends? Or did Jungwon think the other way?

Lately, the last few weeks after the exam, he started to act strange. He has a lot of physical touch, craves attention, is clingy like a koala, and would find any way to be with you, holding you in his grips. Growing suspicious and with a weird expression on his face, you wanted to ask him why, but before that could happen, he was already there.

During the times you talk to your friend, chitchatting about your crush, Jungwon happens to walk by and hears you saying—

"What? No, Jungwon was my boyfriend. Why would you think like that? There's no dating; don't get the wrong  idea." Denying the statement. Those sentences making Jungwon low-key sad about the fact he's giving all his signals to you just vanished. Msybey, it was not there; you're too oblivious to even bother to ensure him, so after school, Jungwon asked you to meet him somewhere you both usually go.

There he goes again—too strange, too weird—but you keep unziping until you get your answer.

When you arrived at the spot, you heard a sob while he was back facing you. Did you just hear him cry? Rare.

Heart almost dropped to the floor, turning him around as his face filled with broken pieces, red eyes, dry tears, and a puffing face. There's no way you actually witness your boyfriend crying; he's too cute to be in tears.

"What's wrong? Won-ie," asks him gently, trying to maintain the atmosphere as clear as clam ever. Hearing you ask only to fuel it even more, by seeing your face, he's already planned the future with you. He wants you; he likes you, but would you return his feelings? That day he eavesdropped, which is already enough, yet he can't accept it; he needs to do something.

"M/N, I have never cried before, but—can I ask something crazy?" Mumble in a low tone; try not to hic from streaming tears. Slowly lock his contact on yours, waiting for your next answer.

Nod and respond with action instead of words. Jungwon, then take a deep breath before kneeling on both knees, holding on to your hands.

Chin up, staring at your speechless reaction, as he processes to utter:

"Please take me; please love me, m/n. I had never done such cringe-worthy, cheesy things like these before, yet you made me. It's hard every day to not love someone like you. You're something I need every day, my very best friend, that I don't consider one but more than that!

Pretty please, I'll let you ruin my heart even if you have to just let me love you." Desperately, a lion could turn into a cat if it needed to; for what they love, unexpected things could happen. Jungwon is actually begging for you to let you hurt him just for him to love you?

"Jungwon—don't get me wrong, i uh ashh, you probably heard my conversation with my friends...

나도 좋아해"

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ Please mind my English! ><

Ps: COPY AND PASTE KOREAN SENTENCE FOR BETTER EXPERIENCE 😜

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Rival! Male! Teacher x gn! Teacher! Reader

This one is long overdue I'm afraid. Have my boy, Elias >c< not much yandere traits here, but I hope y'all enjoy still!

Trigger warning: toxic academic set-up

Yandere! Teacher name: Elias

Elias was about to loose his mind.

For years, he's the teacher that produced geniuses! It's his class that had majority of their students on honor rolls. It was his magnum opus, his way of teaching that pushes his kids to full potential.

Parents scramble to have their children under his advisory. He made sure that all of his students become the talk of the school.

Pressure? What's that? The students should be privileged to be under him and his care!

After all, Elias started small.

He's the black sheep of the family. The entirety of his family members were geniuses in their own right.

Of course, it meant Elias is also a genius.

But he kept getting outshined by his own step-brother, Tae-Joon.

Tae-Joon is not as much of a genius as Elias when it comes to academics, but he's charismatic to a tee and is an amazing singer.

Amazing in fact that he's a popular idol.

And poor Elias always getting snubbed due to his brother's naturally nicer personality.

And Elias? Straight up nasty sometimes. His tongue is sharp and is always more pessimistic than optimistic. He's higher than thou personality definitely earned him a lot of enemies. Even his own family.

He knew that he can't count on his own family to give him the validation he wanted. So, with a resentful heart, he made sure to snub his own family and focus on himself.

This made him want to help other people. And he did it by offering tutoring lessons to his struggling, dumb, and idiotic classmates who can't understand such a simple topic.

Well, not everyone can be a genius like him.

But this proved to be a good path, as Elias found out that he had a knack in teaching. His way of teaching was so easy to understand that a toddler will be able to know how to do physics.

It's odd, but it's true.

His classmates suddenly became experts on the subject and this snowballed into others wanting to learn from Elias too.

This inflated his ego a lot. He loved the fact that people wanted to learn from him. The validation he seek was given by his tutees who praised and thanked him for making them not just understand, but even excel in their chosen topics to be taught with.

And Elias knew he wants to go down the Education path.

At first, he's a bit whiplashed by how different actual teaching is to the "ideal" way of teaching is. It was almost too good to be true that even the professors said that the ideal way is just a bunch of baloney that they can just flat out ignore the way once they're actually on field.

Not for Elias though.

He wanted to bring to life the "ideal" way of teaching.

So once he graduated, he continued to exert so much effort in his instructional materials, his facade of approachability, but still so strict that it feels like you want to choke from it. Sure, he has the art of being a perfect teacher to a tee, but people know that Elias is a demon in disguise. He hates it when things don't go his way, or the rules aren't followed. One trash means a personal lection that ends up with the students in tears.

The parents? Only said that their student must have deserved it to have stoked the ire of the respectable teacher. Like a brainwashed hive, the parents and other staff say that "Teacher Elias won't do anything without reason". This meant that the students are walking on eggshells everyday. And they know they'll get Elias' anger if they don't improve at all.

And, with Elias' incredible way of teaching, and the "ideal" way combined, the students under him become geniuses.

Like his family genepool, the children Elias' produces are geniuses in their own rights.

Elias felt whole now. He has a family to boast about, to care and love, and to nurture unlike his idiotic family who favors his brother over him.

But what he didn't expect is that by the first recognition ceremony, his class will be shoved aside just like that by another class.

Elias walked down the isle up to the stage, smiling proudly as his stoic yet prideful students stood up to receive their recognition. 25 of them are in the honor roll, and 5 of them are high honors. That much elicited a thunderous applause from other classes.

With his head up high, he put medals on each of his student and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. Everyone was mystified as this class took their awards with such entitlement and arrogance that some found it off-putting.

Did they care though? No. Did Elias care? Also no.

They're the pride of the academy! Who would dare to mock and snide them?

After giving the students their medals, they sat down and waited for the other classes to get their awards.

Elias' students, adapting his high and mighty attitude, looked down on the other students who walked to the stage to receive their "measly" awards of perfect attendances and other irrelevant, non-academic awards.

"Thank you, class Uranus. Now, class Neptune, the art program class!"

Art program class? When was that added?

Elias sneered. In his head, he hated anything that concerns art because of his brother. It just reminded Elias of being untalented other than being a genius and snubbed because of it.

He crosses his arms, looking at the adviser and scoffing.

Y/n L/n. From what he remembers, you are the same age as him, and was from a different school before you transferred here in the current school year.

What could a new teacher do in such a short time? Nothi--

"Class Neptune, boasting 5 high honors, 2 highest honors, and 23 honor students, and excellence awardees for their respective art specialty."

"EXCUSE ME?!"

Everything went quiet when Elias stood up, disbelief marring his face as he heard the emcee say the tally of the class.

It was so quiet save for the background music that sounds embarrassingly loud for such a pin drop environment.

Elias, feeling his ego and pride getting kicked and bruised, slumped down on his chair as he stared at you who was looking at him with disbelief.

You...

You're an enigma.

How did you do it?

He bits his nail, his eyes low and shadowed as he watched your sweet and proud smile directed at your happy students.

You don't look arrogant, nor prideful. Just happy and elated for your also equally elated students. No pretenses, no eyes that judges others, just pure joy.

It pisses him off so much.

That's where he knew he must take over you. Nobody dethrones him as the best teacher in the academy! Especially not some art teacher. Anything but an art teacher.

Once school resumed again for the second semester, he spotted you walking along the hallways with your students tailing behind you, talking and chatting happily.

"tch." Elias says underneath his breath as he watches how comfortable the students are with you. He envies it.

"Oh? Good morning Mr. Elias." You found him by his doorway and smiled politely. "Do you need something?"

He freezes, not realizing he's looking at you too intently. He clears his throat, looking away in embarrassment.

"I need nothing, art teacher. I will get going." He said coldly, slamming his class door close.

You didn't like that.

"well, that was rude." You whispered, clasping your hand together.

In all honesty, you didn't really like how Elias leads and teaches his class. You saw how tense they are, always studying and studying with nothing to do afterwards but only studying again. There must be a balance at all times.

"Let's go kids." You said sternly, looking at the closed door intently, sensing a competition forming.

After that, it was tense always.

Doesn't help that your class is across him.

Your students weren't hostile with them initially, but after the blatant aggression from them due to being upstaged in the recognition ceremony, they're starting to pick fights too.

So, whenever you saw Elias, you became hostile also. Not outwardly like him who's openly glaring, but you have your reservations as you smiled curtly everytime you pass by him, and words stringing along some sarcasm in them.

School events like quiz bowls, spelling bees, even exams became a fierce competition that made your students head butt with each other.

And you always made sure to support your students in a way that's opposite from Elias.

Elias pressured them, always making sure they're working hard by being extra strict than usual that one thin slice to the air can cut the atmosphere.

Meanwhile you encouraged your students, making sure they're well rested and happy while doing it. You made sure not to force them to do these honestly toxic rivalries.

So, guess which one excelled more?

"WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH ALL OF YOU?!" Elias yelled at his students, completely dissapointed at their performance at the annual intramurals' quiz bowl. Other than in the World Literature and Science section, they were second to your class. "DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY HOURS I SPENT TEACHING ALL OF YOU?!"

He's so close to snapping. Maybe he already did. But now he's going insane.

Everything he believed about himself is shattering slowly because of you and your class.

What's even eerie is that the students are just looking down, unfocused or dissociating.

Annoyed and feeling like he failed them, he marched out of the classroom and slammed the door close.

He sped walk outside, sitting on the grass as he tried to suppress the imminent tears settling on his eyes.

"fuck... I'm such a failure." He gritted out, gripping his once perfectly ironed shirt. "This is all I'm good at and I'm still lacking at it?! What am I doing wrong?"

He started to question everything. His worth, his value, his time and knowledge spent on nurturing geniuses like him.

Is he even a genius? Or just a hard worker?

"Sir Elias?"

He jumped, looking at you. Your eyes were wide with concern as your voice mellowed out from the usual curt yet cold voice you always sported when talking to him.

You sat down beside him as he looked away in shame.

"what happened? I heard yelling and..." You whispered, a gentle clasp on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Elias' throat burned, and his jaw trembled as he tried to stop himself from crying.

Did he really just have to get comforted by his rival? Really?

But god, did it feel nice to have someone care for him.

"I'm... I'm not." He whispered, looking away. "I know I'm a terrible person for pressuring these bright young minds but... How do you do it, y/n? How do you nurture students to their full potential? Are you some kind of monster or what?"

For the first time, you laughed out loud in front of him.

And for the first time also, it made his heart skip a beat. What's happening to him?

"No, I just... Teach normally." You said. "Well, other than that, I don't really pressure them to do anything. But I encourage them greatly with intrinsic motivations. And I make teaching enjoyable."

Enjoyable? When was the last time Elias enjoyed something? No. When did his students last enjoyed studying?

"Really..." He whispered, looking down. "Enjoyment, huh? And motivation?"

You smiled and stood up, handing your hand to him.

"Truce? I could teach you how to be less strict and let your students be more inclined to study without potential punishment." You suggested.

His eyes followed your hand, and his heart raced.

Without hesitation, he clasped it.

"Hey, did you do our project?"

"Yeah, duh. Here's mine."

"That looks so good!"

"I had help from the Neptune Class for the planets. It's actually really fun to paint, believe it or not."

"I had help too in exchange of teaching them with physics."

Elias smiled, looking at his students actually Converse with one another and not just burying their heads on their books. The once quiet classroom is bustling with life thanks to you.

After that fateful day, you taught him on what's the most important. And it's the students, not the academic gratitude.

Elias apologized deeply to his students, and they had a heart to heart conversation that you supervised to make sure both sides say their thoughts equally.

Now, the Uranus class is livelier than ever.

And you?

You're still the same brilliant teacher he came to admire and love.

Love is a loaded word, but he truly felt grateful to you. You made him see the truth, the light, and the way to become a teacher he tried to achieve by pretending.

He found himself wanting to be around you more and more.

At first, it truly was just gratitude. But now, he can't bear to be away from you.

You're his salvation that he deeply desired in his heart.

He wishes to worship the ground you walk on, the breath you take in, and consume your entire being to be with him.

His heart lurched when a student called for his name, breaking him from his train of thought.

"Teacher Y/N is here for you!" The student said, pointing at the door.

He quickly closed his phone, which the wallpaper is a stolen photo of you just outside of your home, and pocketed it.

You're the only one who understands him. The only one who asked him if he's okay, and sees him for him and not his genius.

And he'll be damned to let you go.

You're his family now, alongside your students.

He can feel the heavy weight of the engagement ring in his backpocket.

In his head, there's no way you're going to reject.

And if you do...

He shook his head. It's impossible! Truly impossible. He won't allow it at all.

In his head, you two are perfect for each other. He'll worship your entire being, and spoil you rotten. It's going to be a good life with him.

But the both of you aren't even together at all.

What will happen?

Who knows.

All you must know is that things aren't gonna go smoothly no matter the choices.

He's too far in his head to think properly.

[pixelnrd]

With her hard earned paycheck from the restaurant, Ginger had saved up and bought a camcorder. She was excited to test it out on everyone she knew, and learn how to make her own movies.

Her Mom's were accomodating and Ginger film them going about their day-to-day - even though they didn't understand the appeal of watching them cook and clean. But her siblings were less accomodating to having a camera shoved in their faces - Jasmine did not want Ginger filming her cheerlearing practice, it was so embarassing. And Quincy wanted Ginger to just leave him and Kylie alone to be... alone.

Ginger became more introspective as she matured, and she thought a lot these days about how she and her siblings were moving apart from eachother and what would come next. Jasmine had always tried to set herself apart, and now that Quincy had a girlfriend even he was too preoccupied . Ginger wanted to make videos of their family together as a reminder of this time in their lives - when they all lived under the same roof, with their Moms, before they all grew up and moved away.

But nobody else seemed to understand her desire to memorialise their childhood, or to linger in it just a little longer. Everyone else was moving on. She felt like the black sheep.

I'm miss world, watch me break and watch me burn, no one is listening my friends 🎶

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Stolen Fruits

warnings: 18+! suggestive/fluff

pairing: Sihtric x fem!reader

summary: A strange man kept stealing from your lands.

word count: 3,1k

Masterlist

Reblogs & comments are immensely appreciated.

Thank you to @foxyanon & @sihtricsafin for everything, I'd like to dedicate this one to you two.

Spring had been good this year, for the Gods had been kind. Your lands had flourished during the soft and sunny period, resulting in an abundance of vegetables and fruits. You made some good coin with a successful harvest, and this year was looking promising. You already earned a fair amount by selling fruits all year round, from sweet apples to perfectly sized strawberries, everyone knew you had some of the best in the country and even the royal families wanted a piece of it. Loads of money had been offered by various men to buy your lands, but you always declined the offers. You loved being a successful lady, especially since most ladies weren't as lucky as you to be in control of their own money and workload, so never would you even consider selling your business to a wealthy man.

It was now the middle of summer and the fruits you had in stock to sell to the townsfolk were all sold out already, meaning you had money aplenty and could take it easy until it was time to harvest the crops to sell later in the year. Therefore you now simply enjoyed the warm days and short nights, making all kinds of delicious treats with the fruits you had kept for yourself. Well, for yourself and for your livestock. You had a herd of goats, sheeps and chickens that provided you with milk, eggs and also some company, as life on a farm at the outskirts of town could get a little lonely. You also owned a beautiful white horse named Tristis, who was an important part of your trade as the horse was strong and well taken care of so he could pull the carriage full of fruits and vegetables when you travelled to sell to the towns and villages that surrounded yours.

Your day started just like every day. You woke up, had some tea and breakfast, then went to feed the animals, did a routine check of your lands on horseback, and after that your day was just you doing whatever you wanted or what needed to be done in or around your cottage. You noticed nothing odd during your routine check, and you ended up tidying the living area in your home. And it was only when you stepped outside, to rid your floor of the swept up dust and sand, that you suddenly saw movement near your apple trees. You quickly hid behind the greenery that surrounded your cottage, pushing the thick leaves slightly aside to spy on the thief who was shamelessly picking apples from your garden. There was quite some distance between you and where the apple trees flourished, but you could see enough to make out that it was a savage looking man greedily collecting your fruits. You sighed, for it wasn't uncommon that a peasant came looking for some food, and by the way the man's hair was looking wild and how he was fast to devour an apple, you figured the poor soul was just hungry.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, you decided to not chase him away but continued to keep an eye on him. And it wasn't until the stranger suddenly neared your goats that you became alarmed, as the savage pulled a knife from his belt as he approached the bleating herd. You held your breath and clenched your fists around the broom you still held, but just as you wanted to jump out from the bushes and chase him away, you saw how he cut an apple in several small pieces and fed them to your animals while giving some a pat on their heads. You exhaled with relief and then watched how the man walked off your lands, seemingly oblivious of your presence, and he disappeared into the forest.

The next morning you found tracks in the sand from the man who had helped himself to your apples the day before. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered how alarmed you became when he had unsheathed his knife, only to be a kind stranger and fall for the begging eyes of your livestock. You couldn't blame the savage, who seemed to have a soft heart, for you always fell for the trickery or your own animals too.

Hours later, when you were baking bread with apples and cherries inside, you looked out of your kitchen window and felt your jaw drop when you saw the savage had returned. Completely frozen you watched how he stole apples again, even more than the day before, and you were absolutely baffled by the nerve of this man. You huffed in anger and wanted to storm outside, chasing him away this time as your lands were not a free for all feast, but when your eyes landed on the battle axe the man had attached to his belt, you decided it was probably safer to not confront him. At least, not confronting him by storming towards him while waving a broom angrily and ordering him to leave at once. 

You managed to get a better look at him now, as the man became more bold and even wandered further upon your lands, seemingly out of curiosity or perhaps wanting to find out what else he could steal. You saw how he was well built and, surprisingly enough, looking quite well taken care of for a savage. In fact, it was only his wild haircut that made him look like a savage, his dark and wavy locks falling upon his shoulders while his facial hair seemed well kept from a distance, and it seemed he wore leather armour, and not the cheap kind either. 

You kept an eye on the man as you became concerned of his motives, because why was he on your land two days in a row? Was he one of the men who had offered money to buy your fertile ground and couldn't handle the fact he was rejected? Was he here to spy in order to find a way to steal your land? All kinds of thoughts went through your head while the man seemed rather unbothered, and you saw how he made his way to the animals again, giving them a few pats on their heads and sharing the stolen fruits with them, just like the day before. And just when you thought he was to leave, he suddenly turned to face your cottage and locked eyes with you as you still stood there looking out your window, and he gave you a curt nod before he turned on his heels and disappeared once again into the forest.

You felt the heat on your face after the man had left, and you couldn't forget the way he had looked at you for the remainder of your day… and night.

The unknown man, who you now called "the handsome stranger" after you had gotten a better look at him the previous afternoon, kept returning to your lands to eat some of your apples and to seek the company of your animals. After a few days you became less wary and trusted the man did not have any bad intentions. You weren't happy about the fact he still stole your fruits, but the weaponry attached to his leather belt kept you from telling him off. As the weeks progressed you kind of became fond of the brief eye contact you had with him daily, at a safe distance, while leaving each other alone for the rest of the time as he wandered around your lands, and even your animals became used to him visiting and enjoying a delicious treat with him day after day.

The weather had always been nice since the handsome stranger came around, but today the rain was pouring down, for autumn had officially arrived. Your crops were harvested and you were making yourself some delicious pumpkin soup, which would keep you warm and fed through the rainy and windy season ahead of you. And when you noticed the handsome stranger still came around that gloomy day, all soaked and visibly shivering while he made his way to your apple trees, you felt for the man and made a bold move.

'E-excuse me?' you called out from your doorstep.

The man looked back over his shoulder, his long and wet hair sticking to his clearly confused face while the rain poured down on him, soaking the thick fur cloak that was draped over his shoulders.

'Lady?' he called back out, a little hesitant.

'Would you,' you suddenly paused and became unsure, but then found your courage again, 'would you like to come in for some warm soup?'

The man pondered about your offer for a moment, and then gave you that curt nod he gave you every day before leaving your lands. Except this time he didn't step off your lands, this time he stepped into your home.

There was an awkward silence when he sat down while you hung his cloak next to the fire that burned in the hearth, and you put his drenched boots in front of flames so they could dry quickly. You hadn't forgotten about his axe and that knife he seemed to carry with him at all times, but to your surprise he had taken off his belt and left his weapons at the door, showing you he meant no harm. And the only scare he gave you was when he suddenly spoke as you brought him your homemade soup.

'Thank you, lady,' he said, his voice was warm, just like that summer day on which you had very first seen him, 'my name is Sihtric,' he continued.

'Sihtric,' you repeated with a light blush, and then proceeded to introduce yourself as you took a seat across the table.

You observed him while he enjoyed your soup, and you were quickly drawn to his charm and his rugged look. His scars didn't make him any less handsome, and his mismatched eyes were easy to get lost in. And Sihtric eventually told you he was from Dunholm and scouting nearby lands, after you had asked him why he came around every day at the same time.

'But the lands are not at war?' you frowned, 'what use is there for scouting the lands if there are no enemies?'

'I'm afraid it is an old habit,' the Dane smiled softly and looked away from you, as if somewhat ashamed, 'it keeps me busy. I stumbled upon your land some time ago and,' he stopped talking as he wasn't sure if he should confess his theft, even though he figured you surely had been aware.

'And?' you asked, aware of what he was thinking, and you tried to suppress your grin while you waited for him to answer.

'And… I… would like to apologise for stealing your apples, my lady,' Sihtric said with a blush on his cheeks, 'I will compensate you for it, I promise. Tell me how much you need,' he said and reached for the pouch he kept hidden under his tunic.

'How much I need?' you asked, confused and mildly offended while Sihtric counted his coins, 'I don't need anything.'

'My lady?' the apparently self proclaimed Lord of Dunholm looked up at you, bewildered.

'I am wealthy,' you said with pride, holding your chin up high, 'I do not need the coins of a man who steals out of habit.'

'I did not steal out of habit,' Sihtric retorted as politely as he could while he shoved the pouch underneath his tunic again.

'Are you sure about that, Lord?' you grinned.

'You dare to doubt my word, my lady?' he questioned, failing to hide his own grin now as he leaned in on the table.

'I wouldn't dare to doubt the word of a man who is clearly in need of a battle,' you taunted, 'or at least in need of a good brawl at the alehouse.'

Sihtric opened his mouth to speak but he had no comeback to your remark, so he licked his lips and smiled slyly before he finished the soup. He thanked you quickly afterwards and said he should get going again, and after he had stepped off your land and you cleaned up the table, you found he had left you some money which covered far more than the apples he had stolen.

The weather during the days after your first conversation with Sihtric continued to be grey and wet, and so it became a routine for him to stop by and have some of your delicious homemade meals as he needed a moment to warm up again. And where he first took his leave immediately after having devoured your food, he began to stay a little longer as he enjoyed your company and the warmth of your cosy home. The fact that you were a blessing to his eyes also made it all the more tempting to stay longer, so he could get to know more about you. You started to trust each other over time, you even felt comfortable around Sihtric while he had access to his weapons as one day he forgot to take off his belt at the door, and ever since that moment you both felt you could open up more about your struggles, but also about the happier moments you had experienced in your lives.

Sihtric was impressed with the trade you had built for yourself and the money you owned, but he was even more impressed with your talent for making the most appetising foods he had ever seen and tasted. You never charged him for your meals, which Sihtric appreciated, but it didn't take long before he started to ask if he could perhaps help you out with certain tasks as a way to thank you. As independent as you were, you wouldn't deny the help of a strong man when offered, so you made good use of him and had him fix up the barn in which you kept your livestock, and he also fixed a leak in the roof of your cottage. You became fond of each other and, after it happened a few times, you were convinced that the way he looked at you and the occasional light brush of his fingers against your skin wasn't entirely meaningless.

And your gut feeling would be confirmed only a few days later after you had started to fantasise about him at night. You began to long for his visits, missing his voice and his scent whenever he left your home to continue his day, and you were ashamed that it made you break things on purpose, just so you can ask him to fix it and have him around a little longer.

Neither of you had never said the words, but you both knew that the lives you lived separately had been rather lonely as of late, despite the riches you both possessed. Wealth couldn't silence the way you yearned for each other, and when another rainy afternoon came around, you both couldn't resist each other anymore.

Sihtric knocked on your door, soaked through and through due to the rain, and as soon as your eyes met his you knew this afternoon would be different. His face was bruised, as he had finally caused a fight with a stranger he encountered as he scouted the lands, before he had made his way to you.

And the tension in your home was thick once he stepped inside and kicked off his boots, which you placed in front of the fire before he handed you his heavy cloak to hang so it could dry too. You hung the beautiful fur next to the fire and then turned around, finding Sihtric towering over you while drops of water trickled down his face and from his long hair. His breathing sounded unsteady while he was usually a wave of calmness, and his hands trembled lightly as he began to take off his leather belt. You both didn't say a word as your eyes remained locked while he dropped the heavy leather with weapons on the floor. His cold hands then began to work his tunic, pulling it off and leaving him in front of you in only his breeches as he threw the wet attire next to his belt. You reached out to cup his bruised cheek and you gave him a saddened look, but Sihtric also caught the faint hint of a smile on your face, which told him you were accepting of his sometimes impulsive and reckless nature. 

You then took a step back and stared at his impressive body while he took off his necklace, leaving his damp hair looking even wilder than before. And after you both heard the dull thump of his necklace falling onto your floor, his tattooed hands suddenly reached for your face while you grabbed onto his broad shoulders, and you crashed into a steamy and passionate kiss while the fire crackled behind you and the rain tapped on your windows.

You both gasped with need when the kiss was broken as you pulled Sihtric down on the floor with you, and your lips attacked his neck and shoulders while he impatiently pulled at the laces at the front of your dress. You felt his hot and ragged breaths on your parted lips, sneaking into your mouth before he let out a desperate whine and pulled you closer with his hand on the back of your neck, kissing you deeply until your lips felt bruised. 

He loved the way you tasted and how your warm skin felt against his own damp and cold body once he had rid you of your dress. You kissed desperately while you straddled him, and moans of relief sounded from you both when you finally sank down on his length, feeling him inside you the way you had been longing for all this time already. His hands warmed as he caressed your body while you placed your hands on his chest, riding him slowly and relishing the feeling of being together like this for the first time. You made love and kissed each other everywhere possible until you both felt that sweet release.

He then pulled his already dried and warmed up cloak over you both while you laid in front of the fire, holding each other while you shared some of the apple pie you had baked, stealing kisses from each other in between each bite. And when you looked up into his love dazed eyes, you both knew you'd never feel lonely again after this day.

Because Sihtric hadn't only stolen the fruits of your land, he had also stolen your heart.

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[24kmar]

𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( A. Donaldson, T. Ducan)

𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Art Donaldson x Fem!reader, Tashi duncan x reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Angst, Standoffish Reader, female manipulator! reader (wolf in sheeps clothing), language, age gap! (Early 30's art, early 20's reader).

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Art notices how much the pressure tashi is putting on you is changing you.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: sorry this is short 😭

Art was the first to notice it.

There was no doubt y/n was different, soso different. Everyone noticed it, especially art. It was uncanny really, how much she was like tashi. They always knew y/n was like her, but she was still so different from her.

She was warm, compassionate, sweet. Thats why art fell inlove with her, she was different from tashi. He knew she loved him, and not in the way he knew tashi loved him. Until now, now he was reliving tashi all over again.

It worried him, how she ate less, slept less, every waking moment spent on tennis. He knew y/n was a perfectionist, but he didnt think it was this bad. He saw tashi in her. So much of tashi. He saw it in her eyes, how tired she was. But whenever he tried to express his concern, y/n shut him down immediately. Human endurance was on hell of a drug.

Now it got to the point where how she felt about him was determined by how he did tennis wise. Something she was always so understanding about. With y/n it used to be 'win or lose, ill always love you', now it was 'all or nothing'.

Even then, she was still different from tashi. When he lost, tashi would coach him harder, chew his ear off, make him better. With y/n, it was radio silence. She'd just ignore him, stay quiet, thinking. Somehow, that was so much worse. He rather her yell at him, tell him he sucks, than to just keep him in the dark, wanting to know what she was thinking.

Tashi was the second to notice it.

The way y/n became so hyper focused when playing tennis, but so distracted when she wasnt. Playing back videos of her tennis games. Analyzing her each and every move. Picking apart every flaw she had while playing.

Y/n was more anxious. Training harder. Now tennis wasnt a hobby. You know that saying "do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life."? It wasnt like that anymore. It wasnt play to have fun. It was play to win.

Tashi loved this attitude. Shit, she wished art still had it. But it was starting to scare her. The way y/n looked colder, the way she always seemed to be out of it, almost always spacing out, unless it was something about tennis.

She didnt mean for it to go this far. It hurt, it hurt to see y/n's spirit so broken. Seeing the woman she loves personality so dampened. But it also worked for her. It pushed y/n closer to her, farther from art and patrick. She liked that. She needed that. She needed y/n to be hers, and solely hers. But she needed to fix this. She knew it was her fault, the pressure getting to y/n.

What really got her was what y/n said to art the day of one of his games. The day he said he loved y/n. Waiting for her to say it back, needing that comfirmation before a game like he always did. To which y/n replied "prove it" walking away and sitting down. He couldnt believe what he was hearing. His sweet, warm y/n didnt even say it back.

Niether could tashi. It was like she was looking in a fucking mirror. Like she was watching herself talk to art. He knew what y/n meant. She wanted him to prove her love for her on that court. And he did. He won.

Tashi didnt have bad intentions. She just wanted to make y/n successful. She wanted to see the girl she loved thrive. She would fix this, no matter what. Tashi would do whatever she needed to get the old y/n back. That was a promise, and tashi always kept her promises.