Starting off with my first idea, a little (BIG) Bane drabble because damn, if that isn’t just the best thing ever…
Anon who originally asked for Bane (and Killer Croc, which has another request I’ll be doing after this!), I hope you like this as much as I did writing it because god damn 🙏🙏🙏🙏
With great power came great responsibility or something like that. It was the catchphrase for the big fancy superheroes flying high in the sky and them alone, because down here in the dirt and dark, Bane didn’t play like that.
To Bane, great power was just great power. It was a tool. It was an asset. It was an advantage… and damn, it was addictive.
He could still feel the adrenaline pulsing through his veins as he sat his ass back down onto his old, beat up couch with a big sigh before dropping the boatload of goodies held in his arms all over the small, small spaces in between his massive self and the armrests on either side of him. His stomach rumbled nearly as loudly as him as he grunted and groaned his way through making himself comfortable on the couch’s dented cushions.
His weight settled into the grooves that he had begun to leave behind once he had found the best spot, and the back on the couch sunk under the arm he slung over it as he reached across his lap with his free hand and rummaged through the pile of snacks he’d managed to snag after his latest run (or walk, more like) through town.
Damn, his old man and forgotten henchman would have had a fucking fit if they saw him right now. His big old pot belly all but spilled out onto his lap, forcing his thighs apart in a dramatic man spread just to make room for the extra weight hanging off of his gut. His massive chest—previously built like an iron wall of muscle and holding up as hard as a rock under the force and pressure of thousands of fists that had attempted and failed to punch through him before—had softened all over under the weight of empty calories and cheap, shitty fast food.
It made quite the sight, his new soft, fat physique, but damn, if he didn’t love the new changes. The serum had changed him in recent months, and in Bane’s opinion, it had changed him for the better.
He was still big, of course, though nowhere near the walking, talking impenetrable fortress he used to be. If anything, he was practically the opposite now—all fat and just enough muscle to help him bust down walls and shove his fists through glass windows to get to the snacks he so desperately wanted inside.
Chinese takeout, cheap city pizza, pop-up food stands and the best all-you-can-eat buffets around… you name it, and Bane had become obsessed with it. Gotham wasn’t just facing an all new era of crime anymore; it was practically facing a food crisis on top of the disaster Bane left in his wake, and it all pointed straight back to him every time.
Him, the living muscle machine. Him, one of the best and strongest monsters around. Him, the death of the streets and Batman’s worst nightmare.
He wasn’t into petty crime or usurping his unnatural strength on the city of Gotham anymore. Now, he had found something else to devote his time and attention to… and god, if he wasn’t absolutely disappointed in the fact that he hadn’t moved onto it sooner.
The couch creaked under his weight as he leaned back, its cushions sinking even further into a straining frame that only had a few more days left to spend trapped under him as he stuffed himself full before it gave out completely. Bane gave no attention to the pitiful sounds as he propped the first bag of snacks he’d snagged from the corner store onto his belly and tore it open with a giddy grumble of laughter and glee.
“Oh yeah, there we go,” he mumbled as he shoved his hand inside and grabbed out a fistful of chips, the corners of the bag tearing along the sides as he pulled himself free. “It’s been a damn shame seeing you off of the shelves. About time I got to make up for the bags I never got to eat…”
Bane’s words trailed off as he shoveled the entire handful into his mouth. He moaned aloud as he chewed, his dusty hand already snaking its way back into the bag and tearing the edges even further as he rummaged around for the biggest fistful he could get in one go.
He had gathered enough food on his quick dash through town to feed an entire family of four for the day, but he knew that by the time he was finished with this, he would still be hungry for more. His appetite was endless, his inhuman strength seemingly turned into a bottomless hunger that left him growing bigger and fatter with every new night he spent lounging on the couch and shoveling his face full of whatever he could find. It was, however, the best start to his villain legacy, as far as he was concerned.
The more he ate, the bigger he got. The bigger he got, the hungrier he became. It was a constant vicious cycle that had taken hold of him, and so far, Bane was more than happy to give in.
He patted the curve of his swollen belly after the last of his bag of chips had been devoured with a big, smug smile spread across his face. This was the life for him now, he realized, and it was a damn good one to live. With his reputation established and the fear he already instilled into the city, there was no one to stop him from getting bigger and bigger…
Tonight’s make up for the vlog I worked on earlier. #gothgoth #plussizegoth #fatgoth #fatbat #purplehair #purplehaircolor #glassesgirl (at Deco District, San Antonio) https://www.instagram.com/p/B8DkoeXHeCV/?igshid=1t1ke59taawkr
Another witchsona! Might just keep doing these the rest of the month, cuz why not!? (╯°益°)╯彡┻━┻ . . . #drawing #doodle #sketch #sketchbook #illustration #instaart #witchsona #witchsonaweek #fatbat
So obsessed with the thought of a big Selina filling out that Catwoman suit 🤤 I hope you enjoy!
If only humans could purr, Selina mused with pursed lips perked up into a smile and eyes glittering with self-satisfaction that glowed brighter than any shiny steal could have gotten out of her. Her handiwork had won her the day yet again, and this time, it wasn’t the skillful crack of a whip wrapping around her wealthy victims or a smooth tongue and silent feet sneaking her into places she was never meant to be.
She stretched out across satin sheets and ran her hands down her sides, smiling wider as her fingers caught against the plump, round rolls of fat poking out from every inch of her body. The leather suit was skintight and fit to burst at the seams, as her skinny and sleek silhouette had undergone some very drastic changes over the past few months, replaced by something bigger, better, and much, much fatter.
She was never a chubby gal before now, having prioritized traditional means and prior experience to get the job done when she needed to in the past. She relied heavily on her stealth and her skills, and making such a big change just wasn’t ever in the cards until now. Now, things were different, and they were better.
She had a begrudging lover wrapped around her finger.
She had a hand buried in a wealth of money, resources, and connections.
She had sway with her on-again off-again partner Batman, who was the source of her steady income, the vault of her future opportunities, the pitiful lovestruck puppy following at her heels, and one of the biggest reasons she had made the change.
She’d gotten bigger. She let herself get fat. She upgraded her suit, her style, her approach… and everybody around her had become absolutely enamored.
God, she had Gotham right where she wanted it. The world was moving in her favor all over again without her having to do so much as lift much more than a finger—unless, of course, it was to lift a silver spoon scooping up rich, delicious bites of heavy meals she could’ve never afforded before up to her lips.
Selina spread her arms out across the bed and turned onto one side, watching as her soft, chubby belly jiggled and followed beneath the leather suit. She’d loosened the zipper enough to peek down and see it when she gotten back to her apartment earlier that evening, partially to admire herself all over again and partially because the suit was teetering on the edge of becoming just too tight for her to comfortably wear again. It was the second suit replacement since she’d started gaining, and she was filling out the suits fast. A little extra weight on her ass and thickening, rounding thighs was one thing when the suit could be cut in half and adjusted to accommodate the bottom growth, but she was building up a big belly, too, and chest, and arms and chin and soft, plush fat all over.
The new look got her even farther than she could ever go before, and she took advantage of it. Her modest little apartment boasted anymore her recent feats of snatching even finer jewelry and collectibles than she’d ever imagined before, each one costing millions per piece.
Maybe it was her chubby cheeks painted rosy pink that did the job, she thought as she traced a finger down her jawline and stroked the layer of fat growth that had filled her face in. Maybe it was her breasts, so full and heavy and bearing down from a soft, pudgy chest. Her big new belly drew attention when she wore her old form-fitting dresses, too, and her thighs jiggled beautifully with every step she took in high heels across polished gala floors.
She could thank the rich folk for supporting her new look with their wealth, perhaps, or she could thank Batman—and Bruce, respectively—for falling so hard for the changes. She could thank the expensive parties she welcomed herself to for serving up fattening dishes and offering her endless amounts of food every time until she could eat no more, or she could thank the poor, naive people running it who let her in through the doors each night.
There was a lot to thank for her gaining, and the pleasure that came from her new look, but Selina knew she always had herself to credit for the success. The rolls that hung from her belly and formed a nice, rounded curve came from her expertise at slipping past security and into the heart of the party, and the hundreds of extra pounds she gained (and gained and gained and gained) were all from her commitment and hard work.
She was a busy gal these days, balancing her new ravenous appetite and the cravings for more—more money, more diamonds, more opportunities to take the city by the collar and make it hers. She hummed as she pulled the zipper on her suit lower and shed her outfit, opting for something softer, comfier, and something that would properly show off her frame.
The new suit was too tight to keep, she thought as she slipped into a nightgown and glanced across the room at her full length mirror. She was gaining fast again; she could see it in her reflection.
“Me-ow,” she purred at the sight, flashing a smile and a wink at herself in the mirror as she ran her fingers over her belly and flattened the fabric against the prominent curve. “Look at you, girl. Taking this city by storm… and leaving no crumbs behind.”
She loved it. Her only regret? Not conforming to a life of gaining, glamor, and rich, shameless indulgence sooner. She still teamed up with the Bat and took what she needed when she liked… but that was only on the side. Now, she enjoyed herself as she pleased, and she saw—and felt—the effects of her satisfaction reflecting more and more each day in her new plump and curvy silhouette.
