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mudandmire · 5 days

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Familiars

Azris Week - Day Two: Familiars

~~~ Welcome to day two of @azriweek! It is so early right now and I'm rushing this note because I need to go to work, but I'm literally so excited. This community is truly so talented and wonderfully kind it inspires me more and more. Fair warning this follows none of canon, like literally none. I went a little rouge with the lore but I couldn't care less because it was fun. Anyywaayyy, hope you enjoy! :D ~~~

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Made for

Azriel keeps his hands wrapped in cotton gauze the first week he’s in Zebedee’s fields. Every now and then, listening to the tall grass rustle, the canyon gale skipping across the steppes plains and buffeting against him, he’ll grasp his hands together and itch. It’s a bad habit, but the feeling, the weight, of his hands together brings him more comfort than he could ever voice.

The moon rises early, the summer season slowly cresting into autumn, and with it the midnight sun begins to disappear behind the fish-toothed ridge of the Illyrian mountains—every moment cut shorter and shorter. So Azriel sits in the flickering firelight of the hearth in the clay burrow, Zebedee humming a soft, low tune that makes his little, withered wings shudder. His mother is somewhere, sitting in a corner darning the holes in pant legs and socks, her narrow shoulders hunched—much like his.

It’s a quiet Azriel isn’t used to. A noisy quiet. Darkness, those familair shapes and figures takes their place along the walls and outside the glass pane windows—yet Azriel is not alone in it. For now, his shadows have settled comfortably along his shoulders and the frayed edge of Zebedee’s colorful patterned rugs. They had their time to stretch and play when the sun began to set, and now laze like fattened cats on the high beams of barns. The shadows are familiar; the light, the noise, is not.

Breathing, steady and deep—Zebedee keeps his eyes closed as he hums, swaying gently from side to side on the cushion he claims his own. The deep impression he has left on it from a lifetime of use evidence enough. Every now and then Azriel will pick up the softest snick of a needle through fabric, the pre-meditated rip of a seam, and he’ll picture his mother’s face, trace her name but won’t dare to turn around.

Azriel’s hands reach for each other, clasping fingers to fingers, like a lock latched. He soothes himself with the steady scrape of his bandages over skin, back and forth. He hardly thinks further about it, so lost in the dancing flames that he startles with a jolt when Zebedee’s large, calloused hand folds over his own.

His eyes jump to his, wide in his sockets. Zebedee’s gaze is open—it’s the only word Azriel knows for it. His eyebrows are lax, not pinched or furrowed, and his mouth isn’t pursed or twisted into a sneer like he’d so often see on his father, his step-mother. The dark, wet shine of his eyes looks into Azriel and it feels like his words come from there, not his lips.

“You must not agitate your scars, Azriel.”

Zebedee is a conflicting male. His gait is long, his feet so big Azriels can fit twice in his shoes. His hair is dark, wild and wiry with tight curls that match the thick of his beard around his mouth down his neck. There’s a sternness to his stance, his face, that comes from a lifetime of experience in the wilds of the Illyrian Steppes. Yet his eyes have retained their kindness; his hands their gentility.

A contradiction. Males who loom are cruel, Azriel had learned that and now he wore the bandages to prove it.

The room has gone completely silent, a blanket shrouding a candlelight. He can’t even hear the faint tug of a needle through fabric anymore.

Azriel tenses, his narrow, bony shoulders drawing up to his heated ears. “Sorry.”

Zebedee shakes his head, leans closer with his palm eclipsing Azriel’s hands entirely. “No apology needed, b’nee. I know from experience how umcomfortable scars can be, yet I also have the wisdom to know that itching and picking makes everything a whole lot worse.”

Azriel keeps his gaze pinned to Zebedee’s hand. The deep ingrained lines around his knuckles, the faint barrier between the dark skin of the top and the lighter, if not more calloused, skin of his palm. What he would give to have hands like Zebedee’s; strong and unbroken, crooked but powerful, large but kind.

His bottom lip juts out, knee boucing as he glares. “But your hands are fine.”

A laugh rumbles through Zebedee’s chest. “They may look it now, yes, but that is only because Oya and the Ko-kaw’eloi gave me time to make it so.”

“Ko-ka’eelohi?”

“Ah,” Zebedee says. Simple, his eyes glimmering with the shine of a secret and Azriel wonders if he’s going to tell him a story.

“I forget, sometimes, that you are unaware of our divine watchers.” He says, though he leans closer he still remains sitting straight, keeping his beetle black eyes trained on Azriel.

Azriel’s face twists, wings shuddering gently. “I know Oya, but I thought the Mother was the—the,” he loses his words slightly, fumbles for a meaning he doesn’t know how to place.

“The only divine one? That is what you were taught, yes?” There’s no judgement in his voice, only a curiousity as warm as the heat of his hands.

Azriel nods. “I thought Oya and Ena—Enalius were a myth.” He stumbles on the pronunciation slightly, but Zebedee takes it all in stride.

“Some think so, many in the moutain camps believe both to be a fairytale. But there are others, like us in the village, who believe otherwise.”

“That they’re real?” Childish wonder, the kind he had been denied his whole life, shamelessly fills his face. He’s too caught up in Zebedee’s simple story to think aout the incessant itch of his bandaged hands.

“That they were real, alive, and that even now they watch over us. They send us rain from the mountains, give us the wind we need beneath our wings. They watch over us under the midnight sun and the eternal moon—but always under the Ko-kaw’eloi: the stars divine.”

It paints a picture. Azriel had spent more than one night sleeping under the skylight in the stable—memories of dark, endlessly dark, cells and iron bars chasing him from his bed time and again. There’s a special pleasure in looking up, seeing the stars, watching the migration they track through their sky.

It makes Azriel feel less alone, some nights. There are not only shadows to comfort him, to clothe and keep him. But a night sky bursting with life and light that has been denied to him until now.

He wonders, though. “Can they only watch?” His little voice balances on the edge of something, a realization, or a confirmation of what he already knows.

Zebedee sighs deeply. “They have their places,” he says, face softened with understanding, “and we have ours.” His hands fall away from Azriel’s, and then spread like two great wings to his sides. “We are Illyrian, Azriel. We are made of this very stubborn, difficult land we build our farms and houses on. But, we are also gifted our freedom, our honor from the Ko-kaw’eloi—our wings are not just for decoration, to determine us different from others. They are a part of our history, in what we are made of. Made for.”

As if hearing the words, impassioned and earnest, Azriel’s wings twitch. They don’t often move, cramped as they had been the first eleven years, their growth had been severely stunted. Now in one great pull, pantomiming the spread of Zebedee’s arms, they fold out behind Azriel with a great shudder.

There’s a lance of dull pain, a discomfort like a pulled muscle, but even that cannot keep the wide smile from blooming across Azriel’s lips. “Ko-kaw’eloi made me my wings?”

Zebedee’s face is alight from the inside with pride. He’s kept his body still, but his own wings quiver as if longing to join in. “Made your wings—your soul, Azriel. That is something that cannot, will not be broken because it is not of this world’s to break.”

“I am made of stronger things.” He whispers to himself.

“Our guidance, our compass, our birthright. Remember them, b'nee. Even when there is discomfort, even when there is pain they are watching, and they know each and every piece of you because we are a part of them.”

The night wanes on, a slow march of stars—Ko-kaw’eloi, Azriel calls them fondly in his head—across the blanket of heavens and Zebedee sends him to bed. His mother had disappeared from her chair in the corner, he doesn’t know when and doesn’t care to search her out right now.

Instead he says goodnight to Zebedee, a respectful bow of his head, and when Zebedee nods back he scampers off to his little room. He’s held tonights revelations in his hands like cupped water, and he’s trying hard not to spill. When he gets to his room, he closes the curtain that cuts him off from the main room and clambers up onto the piled furs that make his bed. His wings fluttering behind him like they’ve had life breathed into them. His face presses against the cold glass pane of his window; eager, bright eyes looking up at the spread of stars and feeling Zebedee’s story, his sincerity sink into his skin.

He falls asleep that way. Cheek pressed to glass, his breaths fogging the window, and his scarred, bandaged hand clutching the fabric of his tunic over his chest.

The stars never waver.

~///~

It’s years later, Azriel hardly remembers what it was like to be tweleve because he’s eighteen—there is only eighteen and everything that comes after.

There was, however, time between the two and change that swept in like a particularly vengeful wind. A comet with bright, auburn hair, golden eyes the spitting embers of a fire, and a trickster mouth crashed into his life one chilled winter’s day.

Eris had swept into his life, little and careful though it was, with such ease Azriel can’t remember a time he wasn’t there.

They’ve intertwinted their lives now; to the point where removing one would rip apart the other. Their connection runs deep, straight into secrecy and with every word and look dipping into the waters of something more.

Azriel wonders about it, keeping his hand over his eyes to shade them from the beaming afternoon sun as he sits on the crest of a golden hill. Eris lays beside him on his front, back bare as the contours and dips of bone and muscle glint with a thin sheen of sweat. Azriel swallows hard, his mouth dry. His eyes are drawn to the spread of bare skin, even if he keeps pulling his gaze away it strays right back to the little spot at the base of Eris’s spine—two dimples right above the hem of his trousers.

“I thought Illyrian summers were more temperate than this. I’m being baked like a particularly pale potato.” Eris grumbles where his head his pressed to his folded arms. His mouth is pinched, eyes squinted up at Azriel.

Azriel laughs, and without a word unfolds his wing like a sheet and adjusts it to shadow Eris. “Better?” He asks. “I don’t know how I ever thought you were from the Summer Court, your heat tolerace is worse than mine.”

“It’s not my fault the sun has a vendetta against me—I’m too pale for it’s attention, Azriel, it’ll cook me alive.”

“And here I thought you were getting used to it so I wouldn’t have to hear your complaining every summer.”

“Oh hush, you love my whining, it brings joy and substance to your life. Where would you be if I wasn’t here to verbally protest how hot it was? You would never know without my complaints and then you’d be roasted like a duck on a spit and everyone would throw a sad funeral for you because I wasn’t there to tell you how hot it was.”

Azriel smiles down at him, crooked, his teeth biting into his lower lip to keep the laugh he feels bubbling up from bursting out. Eris talks like no one he’s ever met, ever known. He’s blustering and proud, sharply witty and yet he can have these spells of absolute nonsense that makes Azriel want to fold up next to him with a stick and keep prodding to see how ridiculous he can become.

“Roasted duck sounds good right now.” Azriel says, his gaze trained on Eris.

His cheeks are pink, freckles stark in contrast against his pale skin. The heat, as much as Eris hates it, loves him. He’s a blush color, like the tall stemmed, small five-petal flowers that hug the steppe floor. It rises in paint strokes along the tops of his shoulders, the bridge of his nose to his cheeks, and, strangely, the very tips of his ears. Maybe in some places the sun has kissed him a little too hard, he’s sure he’s burned at least slightly—yet still Azriel can’t help but think he wears the color well.

Eris snorts. “With some lemon and herbs—”

“Rice and spices, I think you mean.”

“Do you wish for me to perish from burning? Is that what your grand plan is?”

Azriel leans back on his palms, smirking. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Heathen.” Eris grumbles. One of his arms comes out from under his head and he swats at Azriel’s exposed flank.

“Ah,” he tuts, wagging a finger, “I wouldn’t abuse your only shade from the sun.” Threateningly, his extended wing shudders as if he’s about to fold it to his back.

Eris scrambles closer to Azriel, eyes wide. “Wait—no, no need for that. I will eat your fire food, no problem. Do not move your wing, I beg.”

“And your tongue will fall out of your mouth, it will be so hot, and I will be forever spared from your whining.” He deadpans, keeping his wing extended.

Eris grins up at him, boyish and charming, his chin resting on his folded hands. “Only for you, dear bat.”

“Lucky me.” Azriel says, quieter than intended.

A pause falls on them, comfortable and warm. The slight breeze rustles through the grass, a lock of Eris’s rich red copper hair falls into his eyes—he crosses them looking at it.

Azriel huffs a laugh, hardly thinking about it when his hand comes up and his fingers gently tuck the stray strand behind the point of his ear. Eris’s eyes snap to his, his body frozen for a moment before he melts under the attention, the touch.

Azriel doesn’t move his hand.

It’s his feet dipping into those shores of something more, this time, and Eris seems to be egging him on from a couple feet away, eyes bright and mischief in the curve of his pink lips.

His breath shudders out of him, trapped in his lungs, as his fingers curl gently around his ear. It’s so strange, the difference; round and simple, pointed and elegant. It’s even stranger how such a small difference denotes a much larger one between the two of them.

Eris doesn’t push him away, just keeps his sunlit eyes trained on him like the barn cats that wait on the beams or in the corners. So Azriel decides to indulge.

His hand sweeps over the curve, down his ear where the scarred pads of his fingertips meet the tender, warm skin of his neck. They land on his pulse, and Azriel has to inhale deeply at the quick tempo, the hard pound of it against his. Eris hasn’t moved, but he softens slightly, drawing in a quick breath as Azriel continues on. Mapping, tracing, wandering.

“You have freckles.” It slips out—low and hoarse, a secret dragged out blinking in the harsh light of day. He feels the heat of a flush against his cheeks, down his neck and chest. “I mean—of course you do, I just didn’t know if they…” He snaps his mouth shut.

Eris grins into the bare skin of his forearm, eyes glinting. “If they…are everywhere?”

“Yes.” Azriel grits out. His eyes have wandered past where his hand stopped and now rest on the curve of his spine, the jut of his hips and—lower.

“Hm.” Eris hums, and leaves it at that.

Azriel’s gaze flicks to his, pinned with a look in his hazel eyes shadowing a much deeper want that remains unspoken.

“Are they?” He asks bluntly. Eris shouldn’t be so surprised anymore, after all the very beginning of their aquaintence turned friendship started mostly because Azriel was blunt and cut through all of Eris’s frilly, verbal avoidance.

Eris sucks in a sharp breath, a shiver trickling down his spine. “Yes.”

Azriel’s eyes darken. Suddenly, looking is not enough.

He asks, “may I?” as his fingers brush against Eris’s thundering pulse, pinky twitching where it rests lower, near his collar bone—foretelling the journey his hand wants to take. Eris nods, lips parted. “Yes.” He says again, and Azriel can’t help the swoop in his stomach like being buffeted by a strong wind on a cliff when it comes out breathy—needy.

He needs nothing more than that, so trains his entire focus on the expanse of porcelain, freckled skin and the path his hand takes down the warm skin of his neck, to the dip of his collar bone he swirls around, and then to the plane of his shoulders, the corded muscles of his back.

Every inch of him is speckled with little marks and tan dots. Clustered together and spread apart, darker and lighter; every one Azriel wants to map and trace and keep.

His hand lays flat against the dip in Eris’s spine, skin to skin, and it’s unbearably warm—more than the sun. “It looks like the stars imprinted on you.”

Eris hums, comfortable and molten beneath him. It’s not a hum of derision, but one that gently nudges, ‘tell me more.’

“There’s this thing we have in our culture—I guess you could call it a religion, but it’s much simpler than that.” His fingers caress the knobs of Eris’s spine, up and down, following a pre-ordained trail he feels was made solely for him.

“We, Illyrian’s, are made of the stars. We call them Ko-kaw’eloi, the ‘stars divine’. We are part of them, and they have gifted us our wings—they watch over us. Our struggles and our joy, our sorrows and laughter. There’s some who really only worship the stars because they feel cast aside by the whole idea of the Mother, but most worship because they know what they were made of. Made for.”

As if in a trance, Azriel traces circles around clusters of freckles, like he would knots of stars in the sky.

“Ko-kah-ehlohi?” Eris tries out, the Illyrian prounciation missed slightly with his sharp tongue. Azriel’s stomach jolts hearing his mother tongue come from Eris’s lips—swallowing hard.

“Koh-kaw-elo-i.” He corrects softly.

Eris’s brows furrow, and Azriels hand comes down to smooth it out with his thumb before returning to it’s place on his back. “Ko-kaw’eloi.”

“Mhm.”

“Can I say that’s beautiful? I don’t particularly enjoy religion, or really anything to do with the orgin of Fae and what mastermind, resentful, immortal beings had to puppet my miserable life. But that, that is beautiful.” Eris says softly.

Azriel smiles, a gentle breeze ruffling the feathery, raven locks of his hair. “Thank you, Eris.”

Eris nods, then falls quiet. It’s a pensive sort of silence, one where Eris falls still because his mind has done the opposite. Azriel waits patiently, keeping his hand brushing up and down, swirling and stroking the bare skin of his back. He knows Eris will say whatever he’s figuring out right now, it takes a minute sometimes, especially for personal things. Azriel doesn’t mind. Right now he’s just basking in a glow of companionship and warmth, he’s wholly content, time itself could stop and Azriel would thank it.

Eventually, Eris takes a sharp breath—like he’s pushing himself to say whatever he needs to before he closes back up. Azriel keeps his eyes on Eris, who meets them with hesitation. His fingers dig into the grass below him.

“The night before I met you for the first time, I prayed to the stars. I wanted—I needed freedom, and I asked for it.” He says.

Azriel goes still, balanced on the razor edge of the intensity burning in Eris’s golden eyes.

He doesn’t look away. “And the very next day, like some great cosmic prank, I met you. You showed me this,” he waves a hand around, gesturing to the endless, rolling hills and plains of the Illyrian steppes. “And I have since been afraid that at any moment all of it would be taken from me.”

“What changed?” The words rips out of him.

Eris looks up at him, swallowing hard. “Ko-kaw’eloi gave you your freedom,” Azriel’s wings flutter as if they know he’s talking about them. “Perhaps they could let me keep mine.”

“Eris,” Azriel’s plea is raw, wanting, and his hand jumps to his chin, lifting it gently so Eris has no choice but to meet his eyes.

“I am part of them, they are part of me. I swear on both that you can keep me, if I can keep you.”

Eris’s eyes turn molten, his mouth twitches and his bottom lip brushes Azriel’s thumb. “Is that even a question?” He breathes.

Azriel supposes not. The certainty of knowing the sun will set and rise, the moon will wane and wax, the fields with grow and die sets into his bones like steel. No, it’s not a question, it’s a promise and Azriel doesn’t intend to ever break it—not if the Ko-kaw’eloi keep watch.

~~///~~///~~///~~

B'nee - 'My boy/son'

Ko-kaw'eloi - 'Stars divine'

Alrighty cool second day is posted! Had this idea bouncing around in my head of Illyrian lore, and thought it would be cool to tie in "familiars". Not just the form of a divine being looking out for their charge but also in the more common form "familiar", being known and having a close association to. Anyway, lol this one was a little longer than planned but eh who cares <3.

#azris #azriel x eris #azrisweek2024 #babys second azris day fic lets gooooo #this one is one of my favorites so far #which is wild bc when i first looked at the prompt i was b l a n k.

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cookiesncreamlover17 · 9 months

Text

Yandere!Bruce Wayne x Reader

A Yandere Alphabet, Part 10/60 (In Alphabetical Order)

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(The Songs Under The Yandere Characters Are The Songs That They Remind Me Of. They’re Strictly Going To Be From Taylor Swift.)(Hugeeee Swifty, If You Couldn’t Tell)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Cursing, Kidnapping, Blood, And Mention Of Death

🇺🇸Word Count🇺🇸: 1,390

👾Characters👾: 8,826

𝔸 - 𝔸𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕊𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟? ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕀𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕀𝕥 𝔾𝕖𝕥?

Bruce isn’t the best with his emotions. When he wants something he isn’t use to having to ask, so if he wants to hug you, he’ll just do it. It gets pretty scary when he comes home bloody and bruised and he pulls you into a tight hug.

𝔹 - 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕄𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕪 𝔸𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕠 𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

Bruce has a no killing rule. He wants to kill for you but he knows that if he does he won’t ever stop. You don’t deserve a brutal man like that.

ℂ - ℂ𝕣𝕦𝕖𝕝𝕥𝕪, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕋𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝔸𝕓𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕕. 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕄𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞?

Bruce would definitely make you stay near him at all times. If you wanna go do something else that’s too damn bad. He has multiple lives and hardly gets anytime with you. He needs some kind of relief.

𝔻 - 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝔸𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝔸𝕓𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟, 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔻𝕠 𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔸𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝?

He will always put you in front of cameras. He has the power and money to make sure that no one helps you try and escape from him. The worlds eyes will be on you forever and ever.

𝔼 - 𝔼𝕩𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕖𝕕, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕆𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘? ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕍𝕦𝕝𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝔸𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

Bruce shares his personality through spending time. He doesn’t even realize he does it. Saying that, he super transparent when it comes to his thoughts. His feelings are a totally different thing for a totally different time.

𝔽 - 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕀𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜?

If you fought back Bruce understands. He took you away from the place you called ‘home’. He cuts you a lot of slack. He just feels like he needs to try harder to get you willingly stay with him.

𝔾 - 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖, 𝕀𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝔸 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕋𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞? ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕣𝕪 𝕋𝕠 𝔼𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖?

He hates watching you try to escape him. He just wants to love you. There’s nothing funny about you trying to leave your one and only true love. Even if you don’t know he is.

ℍ - ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝, 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝔹𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘’𝕤 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔼𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞?

When you first found out he was Batman it was a total accident. He didn’t mean for you to find him bruised with bloody knuckles. You fainting definitely showed how traumatized you were in that moment.

𝕀 - 𝕀𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕤, 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕗 𝔽𝕦𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕠𝕣/𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

He wants you both to have a biological child and help raise him or her with the rest of the batfam. He couldn’t imagine his life without any kids. Since you work oh so hard to raise your kids, you don’t need to work or anything. Why would you? He can easily provide for you a million different times.

𝕁 - 𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕪, 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤? 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕃𝕒𝕤𝕙 𝕆𝕦𝕥 𝕆𝕣 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝔸 𝕎𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕠 ℂ𝕠𝕡𝕖?

Bruce gets extremely jealous, especially because he allows you to associate with other people. If he is jealous he’ll just pull you away and whisk you off to the bathroom to angrily make out with you.

𝕂 - 𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔸𝕔𝕥 𝔸𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕣 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

He will spoil you rotten! Anything you want. He’ll do whatever you want him to. If you want physical touch bell be all over you. You want gifts, he’ll bathe you in them. You want praise, he’ll praise you in every way.

𝕃 - 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔾𝕠 𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕆𝕣 𝔸𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

When he first meets you he’ll guilt trip you into telling him everything about yourself. Nothing goes unknown to him. He’ll also corner you with paparazzi to ‘motivate’ you to speak to him more.

𝕄 - 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕜, 𝔸𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕋𝕣𝕦𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝔻𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔸𝕔𝕥 𝔸𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝔼𝕝𝕤𝕖?

He’s always looking angry. He has an RBF after all. When it comes to fighting crime he’s a lot more intimating than when he’s around you or paparazzi. It’s a nice mix as long as you don’t anger him.

ℕ - ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 ℙ𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

Physical abuse is one hundred percent no go for him. Abusing you will only scare you off. He’s more mental about it. He’ll make you seem like your the one wrong when you try and leave him or refuse his love.

𝕆 - 𝕆𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕪 ℝ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝔸𝕨𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

He would take away your right of personal privacy. He can’t have you doing anything drastic, now can he?

ℙ - ℙ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖, ℍ𝕠𝕨 ℙ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔸𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

He’s quite patience as long as you don’t try and leave him to suddenly. If your not ready for the eyes on you when he’s around you, that sucks because nothings changing.

ℚ - ℚ𝕦𝕚𝕥, 𝕀𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔻𝕚𝕖𝕤, 𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤, 𝕆𝕣 𝕊𝕦𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝔼𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖𝕤, 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝔹𝕖 𝔸𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕋𝕠 𝕄𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕆𝕟?

If you die he has millions of ties to bring you back over and over again. He just gets super nervous because he doesn’t want to scar you. If you leave he would through a fit while dragging you back here. He doesn’t deserve to be thrown in the gutter after all of the things he’s done for you. He wouldn’t ever let you leave him one way or another.

ℝ - ℝ𝕖𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕥, 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝔾𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝔸𝕓𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘? 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕃𝕖𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕠?

He can’t feel regret for ‘saving’ you. He won’t allow himself to. He’s just protecting you. Protecters don’t give up on the people they love. And in this case, he loves you!

𝕊 - 𝕊𝕥𝕚𝕘𝕞𝕒, 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕊𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕆𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞 (ℂ𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕕, ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕪, 𝔼𝕥𝕔)?

Growing up, Bruce lost his parents. It’s still a fresh wound in his heart. It makes it worst that he’s lost a few of his sons and friends. He can’t let that happen to you.

𝕋 - 𝕋𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝔸𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕊𝕖𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕊𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞, ℂ𝕣𝕪, 𝔸𝕟𝕕/𝕆𝕣 𝕀𝕤𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕤?

If you scream at him he’d understand. He took you after all. It may be wrong if him, but he comforts you and tells you that everything will be okay in the end. If you cry Bruce would be heart broken. Do you really hate him that much to cry? He’ll still obviously comforts you. If you isolate yourself Bruce won’t confront you about it, but he’ll make you go to more events that make you social.

𝕌 - 𝕌𝕟𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕖, 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔻𝕠 𝔸𝕟𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔻𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔽𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕔 𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖?

He would actually allow you to go around without him! As I’ve said before, with the influence he has over people, you can’t leave him.

𝕍 -𝕍𝕚𝕔𝕖: 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 ℂ𝕒𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔼𝕩𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕚𝕥 𝕀𝕟 𝕆𝕣𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕠 𝔼𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖?

You could always kill him or you could make a deal with one of his villains. Thai villain may help you be able to escape, but their in a rude awaken for what’s going to happen to them.

𝕎 - 𝕎𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝔼𝕟𝕕, 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣 ℍ𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

He could never! Not emotionally or physically. It’s out of the question.

𝕏 - 𝕏𝕠𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕆𝕣 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘? 𝕋𝕠 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕃𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕥𝕙 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔾𝕠 𝕋𝕠 𝕎𝕚𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣?

He is super insecure about himself. From his scars to the way people feel about him. Since he thinks the only way he’d be good enough for you is to buy you gifts or give you something you want, he would do anything to make you happy. If you want him to kiss the ground you walk on, than he’ll get on his hands and knees in a heartbeat.

𝕐 - 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕃𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 ℙ𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔹𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕊𝕟𝕒𝕡?

It takes him a good month to plan everything out and take you for himself.

ℤ - ℤ𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕙, 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

Absolutely not! He would make sure all of your needs are taken care of making it literally impossible to be broken in any type of way.

Written: Wednesday, September 20, 2023

#Yandere Bruce Wayne #Part 10 #Yandere Batman #Yandere Alphabet #A #B #C #D #E #F #G #H #I #J #K #L #M #N #O #P #Q #R #S #T #U #V #W #X #Y #Z

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alphabetbracket · 5 months

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As the end of January and therefore our first month of the new year rapidly approaches, there is surely only one thought on everyone's mind

With 2024 in full swing, how are we supposed to know what letter is THE letter of the year???

In 2023, our champion, the letter X was crowned letter of the year, but it is 2023 no longer which means... 🥁🥁🥁

It's time for a BRAND NEW alphabet bracket!

This year I'll be seeding the brackets AND taking suggestions for the six additional characters to be thrown into the bracket rather than using a random generator to determine letter placement

In order to determine seeding, I need YOUR help to currently figure out what the general popularity of each letter is, so please fill out the form below! Additionally, there's a spot to suggest which six non letters are added to the bracket this year (as I'm sticking with the easy 32 bracket layout and there's only 26 letters so we need 6 more contestants)

The form will remain open until sometime in mid to late February when I remember this blog exists again and organize the results to give you the lineup!

The first round will begin March 1st and will last one week, so ready your propaganda, and prepare yourselves to determine the 2024 letter of the year!

#not a poll #alphabet bracket #letter fight #bracket #a #b #c #d #e #f #g #h #i #j #k #l #m #n #o #p #q #r #s #t #u #v #w #x #y #z

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sskk-manifesto · 3 months

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Proof that bsd would be a lot better if they just let it pass the Bechdel test more often

#It barely counts too since the conversation between Kyouka and Kouyou verges a lot on men but eh that's the best we can offer #Idk I just really like Kyouka's arc and think that in this episode too it was well developed.#Her relationship with Kouyou really is one of the most interesting of the whole franchise.#About that I LOVE LOVE LOVE KOUYOU WHY AREN'T WE TALKING ABOUT HER ALL THE TIME I want her back as soon as possible 😭😭😭#And her va is k/l/k's Ryuuko va aka my favourite va ever from my favourite anime ever. God I love k/l/k an inconceivable amount #Which is funny because k/l/k also does have a villain mother figure #The Kyouka / Kouyou dynamics are a lot like. The very watered down version of the Emma / Isabella dynamics.#(I'm once again saying read t/p/n)#I just think. Kyouka's interior struggle is really interesting and we don't talk about it enough!!!#Also FINALLY SEASON 2 ATSUSHI HOW I'VE MISSED YOU!!!!!!!!#I really don't know what's up with anime Atsushi every time he's on screen I'm hit by cuteness aggression. It's an illness.#Next. Can we agree Reason Living is the best b/sd op of them all both music wise and visuals wise #MAYBE on par with True Story for visuals but that's it.#Again I really can't vibe with Granrodeao but that's intrinsically a matter of personal taste //////#MARGARET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MARGARET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#Also Akutagawa voice cameo eheh <33 #There'll probably be a lot of screaming over characters this time lol sorry in advance. Unfollow me now etc. etc.#random rambles

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internetskiff · 4 months

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In awe of his Highschool English Teacher who is Chronologically 31 but Biologically 64 Energy

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ctommy-chileno · 1 year

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he is going places!!!

#now its time for the heavy coding of things like #m o n e y and m i n i g a m e s and u n l o c k a b l e s #tommyinnit #tommygotchi #in other news i think i have a fever #so the day it releases if it has a virus it was because i was coughing in the pc so sorry

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rukia-writes · 11 months

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✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

#S H I N E B R I G H T L I K E A D I A M O N D

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biitchcakes · 7 days

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STRIKEFORCE vol. 1 issue 7

( personals DNI. )

#i am once again thinking of one of my fave jess lines ever #blade's ''...yeah. it's really her.'' slaps too #thank u tini howard bless ily #what a fuckin team #what a gd concept #CRIMINAL to be cancelled at 9 issues #''doing the dirty jobs the avengers and other marvel heroes can't do!''#GIVE STRIKEFORCE BACK TO MEEEEEE #( c o m i c s . )#( v i s a g e . )#( b l a d e . )#( b u c k y b a r n e s . )

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koushirouizumi · 1 month

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D I G I M O N 02 x Tri {x T.x.t P o s t(s) M e m e} ~ K O U S H I R O x T A I C H I {KOUxTAI}

{Cap’d by Me} {DO NOT R E-P O S T} {DO NOT C O P Y} (Please ASK to Use/Share!) {DO NOT RE POST TO OTHER S I T E S WITHOUT MY PERMISSION UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES!}

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animeomegas · 2 years

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Rapid fire thoughts from this evening (some are n-sfw, but not explicit)

Todoroki can’t bare to fight his intended mate during the third year sports festival. As soon as he injuries them once, he turns around and steps outside the ring. He just can’t bring himself to hurt them.

Bakugou is the opposite. He would take great offence if you went easy on him or tried to forfeit, so he doesn’t disrespect you by doing that either.

Asmo cannot function while his alpha is mad at him. Or even if he thinks his alpha might be mad at him. He’ll only last a maximum of an hour after a fight before he cries and begs for forgiveness.

L is so incredibly touch starved. Like, to an unbelievable degree. It shocks him so much how often he craves physical attention after surviving so long without it. A little scratch to the scalp and he melts into a puddle.

Drunk Neji and sober Neji are worst enemies. Drunk Neji is always one encouraging statement away from giving his alpha a blowjob under the table in a bar and sober Neji wishes he could kill that part of himself dead.

Aizawa and Zen tie for the strongest hair pulling kink.

Kakashi is secretly a massive gossip, but he only shares the things he knows with his mate.

Shikamaru finds it impossible to masturbate to anything other than his obsession. He feels repulsed if he tries to use porn or random imaginations.

Light has a secret con noncon kink that he will not reveal even under torture.

Kusuo thrives as a stay-at-home parent.

That’s all for this evening <3 People are welcome to share their rapid hcs though, I’d love to read them :D

#hcs #bnha #naruto #the disasterous life of saiki k #death note #omegaverse #n-sfw #a/b/o #todoroki #bakugou #asmo #l #neji #aizawa #zen #kakashi #shikamaru #light #kusuo saiki

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doctorwhoisadhd · 30 days

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BITING IM SO PENT UP I NEED TO DO EVERYTHING ON EARTH

#I NEED TO:#a) DRESS MORE QUEER b) DRESS MORE PUNK c) HAVE GAY SEX d) GET A HARNESS e) BITE SOMEONE f) GO TO A GAY BAR g) MAKE MORE WEIRD QUEER FRIENDS #ALL OF THE FUCKING ABOVE I NEED TO DO EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!#h) PLAY POKEMON AGAIN i) DESTROY THINGS WITH MY BARE HANDS j) SHOWER ORANGE k) ADD PATCHES TO MY JACKETS l) SCREAM m) GROWL AT SOMEONE IRL #n) JOIN CLUBS AT THE LIBRARY o) HIT SOMETHING WITH A BAT p) CHOP WOOD q) SING AS LOUD AS I FUCKING CAN r) THROW EGGS AT SOMETHING #actually hey wait i could do something about that last one.

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cookiesncreamlover17 · 9 months

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Yandere!Barry Allen x Reader

A Yandere Alphabet, Part 6/60 (In Alphabetical Order)

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(The Songs Under The Yandere Characters Are The Songs That They Remind Me Of. They’re Strictly Going To Be From Taylor Swift.)(Hugeeee Swifty, If You Couldn’t Tell)

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Sex, Cursing, Forced Contact, Hyperventilating, And Kidnap

🇺🇸Word Count🇺🇸: 1,588

👾Characters👾: 9,920

Barry is TOTALLY a cuddle monster. He won’t only cuddle you, but would by you mountains of pillows, stuffed animals, chocolate, etc. He won’t ever let you refuse his offer.

Barry is the kind of guy who would use his vibrating hand trick (we saw him do on Damian) and just stop his hand in the middle of this persons chest. It feels extremely painful for the person, but it gets the job done fast. That’s how Barry likes it.

Barry totally baby’s you from the start. Any reaction you have towards him is completely normal, at least he thinks so. He wouldn’t mock you, but if you did do something ‘stupid’ he’d try and talk ‘sense’ into you.

He would probably try and get you to socialize with his Justice League friends. He isn’t really jealous when it comes to them, so as long as you talk to only HIS friends, he doesn’t really care. But if you become scared he’ll try and have the most gentle one of them ( cough, superman, cough) talk to you the most.

Barry totally coddles you, and he’ll rip his heart out to you and bare all of his feelings. Though, he never burdens you with the bad ones. He is super vulnerable and has no shame whatsoever.

𝔽 - 𝔽𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕀𝕗 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔽𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜?

Barry totally understands. You’re scared, but, in his mind, you’ll pass the ‘faze’. The only thing he’ll get more worried about is you purposely or accidentally hurting yourself. You mean so much to him, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if something happened to you.

𝔾 - 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖, 𝕀𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝔸 𝔾𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕋𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕞? ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋��𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕣𝕪 𝕋𝕠 𝔼𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕖?

This is not a game. I repeat, this is not a game. He loves you so much! And to believe that you think of this, of him, as a game, crushes his soul more than anything! You leaving him is the worst thing ever! It is not a game, and you will not make a habit out of it.

He may or may not have killed someone who was ‘getting in the way’ of your ‘relationship’, in front of you. He understands that it scared you, but theirs no harm in that when you may or may not have that part of your memory erased (blame Cyborg).

Barry kind of once you guys to live in a fairytale. Raise a beautiful kid. Fall in love. And have a happy ending. He wants you guys to live like a normal couple. Going to work together (witch strict supervision), shop together, get married, have kids, etc.

Barry would get jealous on very rare occasions. It would take A LOT to get him riled up. This person would have to be touching you while talking to you. And it had to be in a very inappropriate spot. If that’s the case, Barry will steal you away for a ‘quick’ second. He takes you home and makes sure you don’t ever return to that place again. Though, he does give that man a very excruciating death.

𝕂 - 𝕂𝕚𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕤, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝔻𝕠 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔸𝕔𝕥 𝔸𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕣 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

As I’ve said before, Barry is a literal cuddle monster. He’ll sit with you on his lap and will not let you leave. He especially gets smiley when you fall asleep on him with about fifty stuffed animals surrounding you two.

When he first meets you, you were probably working together. He probably took a very serious liking to you when you both began to share your love for certain things. And eventually he had asked you on a date and his confessed his love to you.

Barry is one of the softest people on the Justice league, but he doesn’t show physical affection as much as he does towards you. But none the less, he still a big softy in general.

ℕ - ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪, ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 ℙ𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

If you were being bad he’s probably try and talk ‘sense’ into you. He’s try and convince you that it wouldn’t end pretty if you were to do something irreversible. If you still didn’t listen he’d probably knock you out and tie you to the bed/chair till he can trust you more.

Since he doesn’t really take away your freedom, he expects you to give him the one thing he wants. Attention and affection. Personal space is no longer a thing in his world, and you will HAVE to live like that.

ℙ - ℙ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖, ℍ𝕠𝕨 ℙ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔸𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

Barry isn’t really patient. He wants you to love him sooner than later, so he feels like in order to get there, he needs to MAKE you love him in every shape, way, and form.

If you die, Barry defiantly can bring you back. He’s a member of the Justice League and has all the ties to bring you back. If you escape, I promise you will not get far. With Barry’s super speed you couldn’t get away from him, like ever.

Barry deeply wants to think that what he’s doing is right, but he knows that it’s not. He did few guilty when you first woke up and started hyperventilating because of how scared you were. Though, he tried to explain to you that this is why you need him. To make sure you’re cared for. So, he ultimately wouldn’t let you go.

After Barry lost his mother, he swore that he wouldn’t let his future wife leave him. Sure, you two weren’t married, but Barry was certain that you too were destined to marry and spend the rest of your life together.

If you were to scream at him, he’d come over to you and bury your head into his chest to muffle your noises. You shouldn’t have to scream at him just to show how upset you are. If you cry he’ll always cuddle you and sit you on his lap gently bouncing you up and down as well as rocking you back and forth. If you isolate yourself he’ll drag you outside of your room and cuddle you and apologize till you tell him why you’re hiding yourself away.

Barry super speed makes you unable to escape him. Unless you kill him, which I doubt you would do. Though, he can also use his speed as a good thing. If you two have sex together he can make his dick and/or fingers vibrate. He can also bring you whatever you want, whenever you want!

As I’ve said before, Barry’s speed makes it impossible to escape him. The only true way you can get away from him is killing him fast. Maybe while his back is turn or while he’s sleeping.

𝕎 - 𝕎𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝔼𝕟𝕕, 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣 ℍ𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

Barry would never hurt you. Not physical or mental. His guilt would eat him alive, and he could never live with himself.

Barry is literally your biggest fan. He gets really awkward when it comes to praise, but he would literally do anything for you. He thinks of himself as hero, obviously, and he expects you to be as clingy to him as he is to you.

Barry defiantly could snap, but he has enough self-control to give you time till he takes you. I’d say after three months he’ll convince you to move in with him, and if you refuse he’ll just take you later that night.

ℤ - ℤ𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕥𝕙, 𝕎𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘?

He would never break you. If he accidentally broke you, expect to wake up with no memory’s and entirely different life.

Written: Monday, September 4, 2023