#just takes a lot more vigilance from me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

emo-batboy · 8 months

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Battinson and the JL ft. His Eventual Identity Reveal

(If you’re just here for the cutesy bits, skip to Attempt #2. Otherwise, STRAP IN CUZ IT’S A LOT)

Bruce Wayne of Matt Reeves’ The Batman is not the founder type.

He wouldn’t voluntarily join a book club, much less join a league of super powered vigilantes whom he does not know personally.

So in this universe, you probably wouldn’t call him one of the three Founding members.

But he’s still integral to the formation of the Justice League

It starts out with a friendly visit :)

Bruce is patrolling on a random night in Gotham when he notices a weird thing in the sky. It’s floating just far enough behind him that a less vigilant person wouldn’t have noticed, but Bruce is always watching his own back, and he takes it as a threat.

He strays from his usual path and then heads to a warehouse roof before turning to face the threat.

It’s Superman. All smiley and dressed in primary colors. The strongest, most powerful being on Earth just floating over like he wasn’t stalking Batman a second ago. Bruce does not like that.

“What do you want with Gotham?” He asks. “I don’t,” Superman says. “I wanted to talk to The Batman.” So this is some kind of fight? An intervention? A warning? Then Superman frowns. “You…are The Batman, right?”

Bruce only nods as he considers his options, but he can’t really do that when Superman has super speed, super sight, super strength, super breath, super lots-of-things-that-Batman-probably-doesn’t-know-of.

Then Superman surprises him by landing on the roof and giving him this pitch about a superhero group.

Superman and a few other vigilantes have been bouncing around the idea of teaming up together so they can help one another protect their cities. And The Batman was a “perfect candidate.”

“I’m not joining your club.” “It’s not a club. It’s a league.” “What’s your mission statement, then?” “A what?” Bruce fights the urge to roll his eyes. He still doesn’t trust this guy. “Take your league idea back to the drawing board then we can talk.” He does not intend on talking.

But two months later, Superman is back. This time, he brings another super powered vigilante named Wonder Woman.

She smiles, politely approaches him, and says “Superman tells me you want to learn more about our league.” That is not what he said, but he doesn’t bite.

Bruce can’t decide which they remind him of more: college recruiters or cult leaders. But because Wonder Woman genuinely seems to care about seeing this project through, and the roster she has of current like-minded vigilantes is impressive, he lets her talk.

And to give her credit, she definitely thought out the logistics more. It almost makes up for the time they’re wasting.

Okay, fine. They’re still way behind on concept, and it’s pitiful. He actually feels bad.

They obviously care! They just have no idea how to run a business like he does. Is it a bit cynical to think of this league of Justice as a business? Yes, but that’s the only way he can even conceive this happening and working.

Bruce asks about their organization’s leadership structure, and that’s when Wonder Woman falters a bit. “We want to work with each other, not for.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks about their scope of work. “We want to help as many people as we can, but that can be ironed out later.” Bruce bites his tongue on that subject.

He asks “Who’s funding this?” She answers, “We have a few members willing to pitch in, but the majority will have to come from generous citizens.” And that’s when he just stops asking questions. Because what?

If he could cry the grease paint off, he would.

They can’t just think every super-powered vigilante is going to sing Kumbaya and braid each other’s hair. There needs to be checks and balances within the organization to avoid tyranny and corruption. They need a reliable source of donations (that doesn’t immediately out Bruce.) They need a proper chain of command. They need to map out their area of responsibility. They need to design a VERY strict vetting process. It’s not sunshine and rainbows. It’s hard work!

So he says he’ll think about it again and complains to Alfred about the weird super stalkers.

But for SOME reason, Alfred doesn’t see the problem

Alfred encourages him to join so he can “make some friends.” But how can he trust these people if they can’t even make a half-decent pitch? It’s like a bad episode of Shark Tank.

And “make friends?” They’re all masked

But after a week of gentle nudging (read: very firm lectures), Bruce agrees. ONLY to keep tabs on the rest of the vigilante world and possible threats to Gotham

(And without his help, they’ll probably butt-dial Lex Luthor the nuclear codes or something)

And he is damn well going to figure out who these people really are before he helps them make a Super Organization.

Alfred figures out about half of their secret identities purely as a brain exercise while Bruce is out fighting crime and collecting head injuries like Pokémon cards. They figure out the rest together.

They also develop contingency plans for every single member. Just in case.

And after months of Batman being visited by random vigilantes, whom he has several choice words for about personal space—“This is my city. Go away.”—he accepts. On several conditions.

Not all of them are appreciated.

Attempt #1: “Making Friends”

After several scheduling conflicts, a lot of prep work, and a really good hype session in front of the mirror, Bruce heads on over to the first official meeting.

Batman arrives with a long list of things they need to do before going public. The first thing on the list?

Write A Mission Statement

What the fuck are they actually trying to do? Bruce thinks this is a great starting point.

And you’d think (you’d think) this Justice League thing would be easier to tolerate than the drawn-out exec meetings he has to sit through with boring, old businessmen who keep delaying things so they can hash out every little detail.

To Bruce’s absolute horror, he BECOMES the boring businessman who’s delaying things so they can hash out every little detail. He misses the boring, old businessmen. At least they knew what they were doing.

Every turn, he is argued with.

“Why do we need a mission statement?” “‘Power Structure’ feels authoritarian. Can’t we just share leadership duties?” “Do we really need this much paperwork?”

Bruce has the audacity to say, “We need to develop some sort of protocol that helps us analyze any possible threat.” But no. “Why can’t I just jump in? I have eyes.” “Jumping in without studying an opponent’s behavior could cause more harm than good,” he insists. “So what? I’m going to watch an alien monster go on a rampage through my city instead of fighting it?” “Yes. You don’t know what it’s capable of.”

Bruce already regrets joining.

All he hears is the others gossiping. “Is this guy really telling us how to be heroes?” “He’s got a major stick up his ass.” “I knew we shouldn’t have let him join.” And if that doesn’t dissuade him, he doesn’t know what will.

“How was the first meeting?” Alfred asks. Bruce scowls. “I’m not making friends.”

Nonetheless, Bruce sticks it out for weeks until they have some semblance of an organization. And, to his shock and amazement, it…kind of works.

The Justice League makes its debut, and Wayne Enterprises generously donates some money “out of spite” after Lex Luthor publicly denounces the league. (Honestly, Bruce would too if he hadn’t personally duct-taped it together himself.)

But the league starts small, just like he told them, they respond to natural disasters and public safety threats first (as per the outreach initiative) and focus on protecting communities in need (as per the mission statement.)

Yes, they still think Batman has a stick up his ass because he’s a stickler for writing incident reports, but no one else reads them so he has the right to be pissed.

He’s almost kind of sort of content with how it’s going. Even his reputation as a vigilante is improving.

That’s when another glaring difference between him and the other members appears.

Despite looking the same age as the rest of the team, Bruce is actually much younger?? Even excluding the aliens, gods, etc.

Most of his teammates are in their late 30’s, early 40’s. Meanwhile, Bruce is at the ripe age of 29 and a half.

He is the youngest by ten years.

Everyone kind of just assumes he’s the same age, though, so they make references to 80’s kids stuff that he only vaguely understands through Alfred and his business partners. He just sits there in silence like a child who snuck over to the adult table and is waiting to get caught.

So on top of the rift he (accidentally) created when they started the organization, it’s even harder to connect through similar interests. Other than punching people together.

And Bruce Wayne has a bad case of imposter syndrome when it comes to their superpowers.

He’s always in the corner brooding, and everyone’s like ummm antisocial much?

But 50% of the time, it’s because he’s thinking “I’ll never amount to the incredible heroic feats everyone else has accomplished. How can I possibly make a difference to the world if I’m already struggling to save Gotham?” Like a little emo freak 🖤

(Meanwhile, you couldn’t pay those mf’s to step foot in Gotham. This Bat guy’s crazy and he’s human apparently?! No way. Nuh uh.)

The OTHER 50% of his “brooding” is Bruce standing to the side with a mixture of concern and judgment because his teammates’ competency in certain areas is…alarmingly low sometimes.

One week, he finds himself thinking, “How do these grown-ass adults not know their way around a digital map? They’re 40, not geriatric.”

Then like a week later, it’s “These fucking war fossils don’t even know Morse code. I gotta do everything around here.”

One of the final straws is when he says, “Did they just break another fucking Keurig? Who does that, Alfred? It’s the fifth one.”

Suffice it to say, he’s not very personable. But is it his fault? Well yeah, a little bit. Like……..65% his fault.

(The remaining 35% is their moaning and groaning whenever Batman calls a meeting.)

Bruce’s irritation is totally justified.

God, he just wants to go home.

Why is he doing this again?

Attempt #2: Actually Making Friends

The first JL member to break through his cold, black exterior is Wonder Woman. She needs help with search and rescue after a sinkhole opens up near an elementary school, but no one’s available until Batman responds to her call.

He’s on the scene in less than an hour and makes quick work in securing the area. Thankfully, she catches him once it’s over. (He always runs off without saying goodbye.)

“Thanks for helping. Everyone else was just so busy. I’m glad you could fly over.” Batman mumbles something that she can’t quite hear. “What was that?” she asks. “I was busy too,” he repeats. She gives him a weird look, and he freezes up for a second as he realizes that probably wasn’t appropriate to say. “I mean…this was more important. There were kids in danger so it didn’t…matter if I was busy.”

Wonder Woman considers how awkward The Batman looks for a moment then smiles. So he really is human. “Well, thank you. The help was very much appreciated.”

Since then, several small acts of kindness and solidarity earn Batman some respect from the rest of the team.

One day, Flash complains about how boring their meetings are so Batman brings a massive bin of fidget toys. After placing them in front of the Flash, he mumbles, “These are for ADHD. They’re useful.” Flash almost cries with relief. He is very touched.

Another day, Green Arrow is severely injured in battle. Without a word, Batman leaves the fight, takes him to a safe location, stops the bleeding, and does it all while repeatedly making sure he’s awake and asking permission to remove certain pieces of clothing.

In another fight, Plastic Man’s mask is thrown off, and Batman sees his face. In a second, Batman tosses a smoke bomb, picks up the mask, and hands it back before anyone else can look. It costs them time and the element of surprise, and Plastic Man knows it, but Batman did it anyway.

A JL member’s stomach grumbles during one too many meetings. Suddenly, their little break room becomes a fully stocked kitchen with shelf-stable meal items and all the basic necessities. There’s a nut-free section, a gluten-free section, everything. The only reason they know it’s him is because anyone else would have admitted to it.

(He renovated the whole fucking thing. In one night. By himself.)

And they all see how gentle he is with children. Countless times, The Batman is spotted prioritizing young civilians at any given moment.

He has lollipops in his belt. And Bluey bandaids too.

It’s the little things that make them feel closer to him :)

And okay maybe his goddamn Mission Statement lecture wasn’t so bad

So they stop moaning and groaning

Okay, now it’s bonding time WOOHOO!!

Attempt #3: Kinda? Friends??

One day, Superman says he isn’t too fond of billionaires (because of Lex, obviously) and goes on a rant about capitalism. Bruce doesn’t dare contribute because 1) he’s the richest man in the world and 2) every other billionaire he’s met is insufferable.

(Including Oliver Queen who Bruce refuses to look at while Green Arrow “defends his city’s billionaire.”)

(And while we’re on the topic of Green Arrow, Bruce cannot forget the disappointing almost-fling two summers ago. He still holds a grudge.)

Green Arrow: “You’re all fashion nightmares. Who wears a cape in the 21st century?” Batman: “At least my facial hair isn’t longer than my dick.” GA: “What was that, Batman?” B: “What?”

Also Bruce is very attracted to Superman.

(He likes older men.)

(Yes, I am referring to Henry Cavill’s Superman.)

(Sue me.)

(But don’t get your hopes up. He does literally nothing about it.)

(Coward.)

One of the JL members complains about how sore they are after a few missions so Bruce cashes in his Monthly Attempt to Socialize and says, “Try yoga. It helps me.” “…Batman, you do yoga?” “Yes. My son got me into it….It’s good for you.” “You have a son?!” He is never socializing again.

They also learn that Batman has the smallest frame on the team. (Like yeah, he’s tall, but he’s also lanky, and everyone else is either an alien or a human dorito.)

One night, they need to sneak through the vents of some building so Bruce offers to do it. Someone says, “It’s a tight squeeze. Are you sure you can fit?” Then he just takes his cape and pauldrons and shoulder pads off and is suddenly like a foot skinnier

“Wait��is this why you’re so good at hiding in the shadows?” Bruce just glares at the Flash for a second before climbing into the vents.

(The answer is yes.)

A betting pool is started over whether or not Batman is part Bat.

In fact, several betting pools begin because no one knows anything about the guy??

Aquaman and Plastic Man go to great lengths to figure out what his hair color is.

They lose their shit once Bruce tells them he’s vegetarian.

Green Lantern: “Every time he opens his mouth, we learn something new. Next, he’s going to tell me he speaks Swahili!” Batman: “I do.” GL: “Oh, come on!”

Superman: “We need someone on the inside for this international operation to work, but that’ll take at least three months undercover.” Batman: “Don’t worry. I have connections.” S: “…In Shanghai?” B: “Yes.”

The Flash adds SHANGHAI?? to his conspiracy board

Bruce needs to stop trying to socialize. It’s better for everyone’s cardiovascular health.

A year or two in, they’re all introduced to Captain Marvel. Bruce is the first and only person to learn his true identity (kid Billy Batson) because Bruce is the only one with a kid. That way, he understands the weird Gen-Alpha humor and references.

Millennia-old deities don’t use the term Flop Era.

And, of course, they play FMK at some point.

(I mean, come on. There are like TWO mature adults on this team, but Martian Manhunter doesn’t know what’s going on until it’s too late, and Wonder Woman is busy at her day job.)

During that particular round, the celebrities are Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Kylie Jenner. Bruce does, in fact, want to kill himself, but he chooses Fuck instead because of this exact conversation:

Green Lantern: Come on, Bats. It’s just a game! Choose already. Batman: No. I’m against killing. GL: Oh, go fuck yourself. This situation is completely hypothetical, and you know it. B: Fine! Fuck Bruce, Marry Kylie, Kill Lex. GL: See? That wasn’t so hard :) Bruce:

He tried

Attempt #4: Ah shit, FRIEND?

The identity reveal comes about three years after he joins. He’s 32, has three kids, he’s been on hundreds of missions with them, the team’s over twice its original size, and there are domestic terrorists overtaking Manhattan.

Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, and The Batman try to extract as many civilians as possible, but now they’re being hunted. After hiding in a warehouse and considering their options, MM finally suggests that they pose as civilians, which immediately creates uproar.

Bruce, however, realizes this is the only way out.

But it’s not dramatic or badass like that one JL episode. No, instead, he thinks about it, swallows the regret, and just—

Takes off his cowl.

And the whole room falls dead fucking quiet.

Then, “Oh fuck.”

(That was Green Lantern.)

Bruce just shrugs and mumbles, “Martian is right. It’s the only way.” And really fucking hopes the grease paint hides his red face because he is not having a good time right now.

He would rather die, actually, but they need to get somewhere safe and Fast.

The others look him up and down then nod slowly. “Uh yeah.” “Okay, sure.” “This is fine.” “We’ll do that.”

The others begin slowly taking off their suits and changing into something more casual. Bruce takes his off, revealing the skin-tight compression suit underneath, and stuffs his armor in the roll-up duffel bag that’s kept in his belt.

He changes into his drifter outfit, wipes his face clean, and suddenly, The Batman’s just a normal guy. (A very pretty normal guy, mind you. His teammates have eyes.)

“We can head to my place,” Bruce says. “It’s closer, and I know the train system pretty well.” And yes, he’s pretty soft-spoken outside of the suit, but now it feels even more obvious.

Meanwhile, the others are like—

Oh. My. God.

Oh my god, he’s fucking shy. Batman is acting shy in front of us. Dear fucking god. Batman is Bruce Wayne. And Bruce is shy so Batman is fucking shy?? Bruce is pretty too. Holy fuck. He is very pretty.

And he’s so young?? Oh my god, he’s a BABY wtf?! He’s like four inches shorter. Four inches tall! They’re all towering over him without his massive boots and armor, and he just hunches over with the big duffel bag like he wants to sink into the floor, and he’s so small.

Wonder Woman wants to put him in her pocket.

Sue her.

They end up taking the train back. Bruce has on the mask and cap that hides his face (poor Superman, he really likes his jawline) and they all follow Bruce as he gets off and on several trains at seemingly random stops. THEN when they’re finally in Gotham, they head into an abandoned-looking subway station that leads them into a…cave?? WTF

And in the middle of the cave is an elderly man with a cane and a three-piece suit just lounging on a recliner. (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK—)

He looks up from his crossword puzzle and says, “Ah! You’ve finally made friends, I see?” Bruce rolls his eyes. “This is not a sleepover,” he gripes. “Shame. I was about to grab your footie pajamas for you.”

The man smiles at them. “A pleasure to meet Master Wayne’s work friends in person. Would you like some coffee? Tea? If you’re like him, this is going to be a long night.”

No one dares to question why this man recognizes them in their civvies

They also can’t tell if the footie pajamas line was a joke or not. After tonight, nothing is off the table.

(This is a minefield of information. Barry is having flashbacks to his conspiracy board. No one is going to fucking believe him.)

They all settle into one corner of the cave. Bruce leaves to change and comes back looking like this:

(Goddamnit, Clark is having a meltdown. His hair looks so good wet.)

At one point while they’re plotting, Wonder Woman glances over his shoulder to see Bruce checking some sort of security camera. A boy, maybe nine or ten, is sleeping in bed. “Is that your son?” Bruce clearly doesn’t want to answer, but Alfred gives him a look, and Bruce sighs. “One of them. Yes.”

Later, they have to analyze some explosive samples in the cave, and Barry, forensic scientist extraordinaire, has some choice words about the non-sterile environment.

Barry: This doesn’t look safe. Bruce: My lab is perfectly clean and functional. *bat screeches* Don’t worry about that.

For the rest of the night, they use the evidence they have to track down the organization while the rest of the JL suits up and saves NYC.

After a few hours, they’re safe to return to NYC for damage control. But Alfred refuses to let Bruce go with them. “Your sons are worried. Drive them to school, then you’re coming home and sleeping.”

Bruce clearly wants to argue, but the mention of his kids stops him. He sighs and turns to the others who are already changed. “Let me know if you need anything. I can be there in ten minutes.”

They all nod, knowing full well they will not be doing that. The guy clearly needs rest.

(Also, he is a single father of three and still goes out every night to punch robbers and crime bosses? Is he doing okay?)

Then they head back to NYC with so many questions.

But a lot of it makes sense too, actually. Maybe they just weren’t thinking about the man behind the mask enough to see it.

They learned a lot about their friend that night.

And they have a lot of bets to cash in.

FIN

Okay :D that was a lot! If you enjoyed it, please let me know. This has been simmering in the back of my head for months <3 Have a great day and drink some water :)

Hey bestie @bruciemilf

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byuntrash101 · 1 month

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behind the mask

f!reader x yunho smut | mdni 2.7k it's halloween night and your sweet golden retriever boyfriend wants to have a little harmless fun link + nsfw tags under the cut

#17: mask kink + outdoor + primal play (twt p☆rnlink) sweet bf!yunho, also ghostface!yunho, also big cock!yunho, knife play (not cutting skin only clothes, no blood), fear play (chasing through the woods + threats), degradation (slut, whore), outdoor/semi public setting (a deserted park at night), nipple play, spanking, backshots, unprotected sex ("im not angry, im disappointed"), creampie, implied aftercare (because when the mask's off he's your sweet lovey dovey bf ♡)

a/n: im back again on my bs. did you miss me? enjoy <3

3k celebration masterlist | ateez masterlist | navigation

Halloween was your favorite holiday. There was something so fun in everyone dressing up and acting silly for a night. Every year you volunteered to take the kids of your small town trick or treating. You always liked bringing them fun memories. And halloween was just that much more fun when you looked at it through the eyes of a kid.

This year wasn’t any different. Only this time your boyfriend tagged along with you. Which was a blessing in itself because the group of children was going to be more manageable with another set of hands on deck and another pair of vigilant eyes.

You adjusted the red hood over your head and pulled on the thigh high tights to bring them as high as possible, concealing the lace under your knee length skirt. It wasn’t freezing cold outside but still pretty chilly as the night was falling over the small town.

“Thank you for helping me,” you said to your boyfriend as you hoped in his car and headed to the local school where the parents had gathered the small group of children to take out trick or treating.

“No worries;” Yunho said, smiling in your direction as he pulled into the parking lot. “Sorry for the costume. I only had time to pick up that mask” He pulled out the ghost face mask from the backseat. And pointed at the rest of the ensemble that consisted of a black hoodie with a black leather jacket thrown over it and a pair of ripped jeans. “That’s all I got” he said scratching the back of his neck, his lips pulling into an adorable, reserved smile.

“Oh no problem!” you said hurriedly, throwing your back pack on your shoulder, the modern item contrasted greatly with the medieval red riding hood costume. “Sorry it was on such short notice” And Yunho took your hand before you had the chance to open the car door.

“I’m just glad to spend time with you, really” he smiled at you adorably, his eyes turning into crescents. Even though you’d only been dating for a few months you felt very comfortable with him. Mainly because he was very sweet and gentle. So much so that initially you thought it was all an act to get into your pants, given how good looking Yunho was you knew he surely didn't have to do all of this “white knight in shining armor act” to get sexual attention. Unfortunately you fell for the lies and deceptions of others before and ended up getting ghosted after a night of at best mediocre sex. But Yunho was different. He never pressured you into anything and then when you finally caved into your desire for him… well it was gentle. He paid attention to your cues, made sure you enjoyed yourself and he made you feel safe, loved and good, very good.

“Don’t you think it’ll scare the kids though?” he said, placing the mask over his handsome face.

“Scare them?” you laughed out loud as Yunho’s features dropped in confusion. “You’re so not ready for the little monsters” you laughed. “Let’s go” you said before opening the door.

You smiled and slipped the mask off before stepping out of the car. Yunho watched you being greeted by the kids. They were all jumping around in excitement, gathering around you like evil little minions of the night. The scene warmed Yunho’s heart as he smiled behind the mask.

“Mister! Mister! Your mask is very cool” a little boy with green face paint and stuffed leaves cosplaying as Hulk pointed at Yunho.

“Wooow scary~” a small girl with a peppa pig dress stomped her little feet and laughed, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Yes kids, that’s Yunho. He will come with us this year” Yunho took the mask off, ruffling his dark hair before smiling widely at the children.

“Hi kids” he waved.

“Oh” the small peppa pig girl let her words trail off. “Are you y/n’s boyfriend?” she asked very directly. Which made Yunho chuckle and her blush looking in awe at him.

“Yes. I’m the boyfriend” he said, half laughing. The girl then turned to you. “Does he have a little brother?” she asked as quietly as possible and you also laughed. “How about we ask him later, huh?” you whispered to her and she nodded timidly, throwing another curious glance at the handsome stranger.

The parents waved goodbye to the children and left. Probably excited to spend a night in peace.

As the round of houses went by, the children’s bags became filled with candies and chocolate bars and of course the occasional apple from the more concerned parents.

Yunho was a great helper. He settled arguments when kids thought the distribution of candies was unfair, he encouraged the ones that were scared to walk past a particularly convincing automated witch stirring her cauldron and he was just a joy to have a round. Even under the mask you could hear the smile that was spreading on his angelic face from ear to ear, contrasting greatly with the spooky mask.

As the night progressed you dropped off the kids one by one to their house and soon enough the last kid left and you and Yunho walked back to the car.

“Thank you for tonight, it was great” you said as you walked past the deserted park. You turned to him and smiled. “I really owe you one”.

Yunho pressed your body against yours, startling you a little. He slipped the mask off, he was slightly disheveled after wearing it all night.

“Maybe there’s something you could do” he said, smirking, and you tilted your head in interest. “What about we play a little?”

His demeanor had suddenly changed. But his dark serious eyes stirred something within you. You would lie if you said you hadn’t been fighting a kind of dark desire that sparked within you when Yunho first slipped on the mask but you kept the curious feeling at bay for the whole evening only to let it resurface now.

“You know,” he started his eyes falling from your eyes to your lips. “I've noticed the way you look at me when I wear the thing.” He dangled the mask next to your face. And you pinched your lips between your teeth to hold a gasp. Were you this obvious?

“Wouldn’t it be fun to play a little game? How about a little chase through the park?” he chuckled when he saw your eyes grow twice as big. “If you escape me you win. But if I catch you… well it’s not fun if there’s no surprise” the ominous statement made you whimper quietly as instinctively pressed your thighs together. “I’ll even give you a headstart” he smirked as he slipped the mask back on.

He let go of your waist so abruptly that you almost stumbled back but found your balance in time.

“Go ahead, little one.” Yunho said as he grabbed a kitchen knife from the backpack. “Start running” the laugh that escaped his lips was the furthest thing away from the usual warm laughter you were used to. It was cold and threatening. It made your stomach churn and not only in fear.

Without thinking you ran into the park and engulfed yourself in the dark woods, adrenaline coursed through your veins and you left the path to venture deeper into the woods. As you were running and jumping over the branches and roots of the trees that were sticking out of the dirt you heard the maniacal laugh come closer.

Out of breath and panicked you decided to hide behind the thick trunk of an old oak to catch a small break and hopefully to escape the bloodthirsty man on your track.

“Where are you?~” Yunho singsang. You laid a hand over your mouth to hopefully steady your breathing. He was close. “You know there’s no point in hiding, little one,” Yunho said, his breath itching in his throat. “You know… I will… find you!” he said, suddenly circling the tree trunk, the big terrifying mask shoved in your face. You couldn’t even scream, you only started to run full speed, Yunho following you closely, knife in hand.

But your skirt got caught on a thorn and slowed you down before you could accelerate again, completely ripping the piece of fabric, leaving you in a torn miniskirt barely concealing your ass.

But that misadventure was your doom. Yunho was able to catch up to you. He caught your arm with his big and cold hand, gripping so tight it was bruising your delicate skin and pushed your back against a tree.

“Gotcha~” he said, even if you couldn’t see you could distinctly hear the predatory grin behind the disfigured mask. “I win”

“Please” you whimpered, your heart thumping in your ears. You didn’t really know what you were pleading for but when you felt your boyfriend’s hard on pressed onto your hip, you realized you were begging for him to take you. To claim you right here in the cold winter night in the middle of the woods. Like a wolf finally sinking his teeth into the delicious and tender flesh on a fawn.

“Look at you little one” Yunho was growling, his threatening tone was stirring more arousal in the pit of your guts. “All nice and ripe for me to pluck,” he said, bringing the cold blade of the knife to your cheek, pressing the flat surface onto your hot skin, making you shiver.

With his other hand he ripped the red hood off you and harshly pulled on your buttoned blouse popping just enough buttons to see your black lace bra.

“Little one wore lace for me tonight” he slipped the tip of the blade between your breast and under the article of clothing and cut it clean off, earning a frightened gasp from you. The cold air blew on your bare skin making your nipples harden into tight buds. “Much better” Yunho sighed, groping your chest with his cold hand and pinching your pebbled nipples between his long fingers, you moaned from the stimulation, more arousal pulling in your underwear. He flicked and pinched and circled the hard nubs until you were a whimpering mess, each moan you let out becoming visible fog in the chilly open air.

Yunho kept on rubbing his hard cock onto your hip, humping you slowly but purposefully grinding onto your soft side, groaning with each movement until he’s had enough of those games.

He pushed you to a boulder covered in moss and bent you down until both your hands laid flat on the cold stone and your ass was sticking up in the air. Yunho landed a sharp slap before putting the knife to good use again. He slipped it under your underwear, you felt the cold metal of the flat of the blade run against your throbbing hot and drooling little pussy, making you moan at the contact, fighting the urge to grind your greedily little cunt against it.

With a precise movement Yunho cut the undergarment letting your glistening cunt shine under the moonlight, the article was now only pathetic hanging by your waist.

“Fuck you’re already so wet, bunny” he breathed out, swiping one finger along your drenched folds.

“Please fuck me Yun-” you cut yourself. “Please ghostface fuck me”

You felt Yunho’s cock throb against your ass at your words.

“What an eager little slut” he said before bending down next to you and stabbing the knife in a tree stump next to you. “I’ll give you what you want”

A second later you felt his two big hands slap against your bare ass before his hot tip glided against your folds. Responding on instinct your back arched deeper and you pressed your ass against him, urging him to fill you up.

Without more prepping he slid his thick cock into you to the last inch in one swift move making you moan loudly, your eyes shutting tightly.

“Oh ffuckkk” you moaned in the cold night.

“Fuck. So wet and tight for me, bunny.” Yunho said, taking a bruising grip around your waist. “Your slutty cunt is already throbbing around me. You liked it that much when I chased you around?”

“Please” is the only word you could process through your foggy thoughts. You only wanted more of him.

“Who knew the cute little one liked to be preyed on?” He drew out of you only the slam back right in.

“God fuck- yes” you screamed at the sudden surge of pleasure.

Yunho settled a deadly rhythm, smashing himself between your hips, your wall gripping his fat cock tearing you apart every time it pulled out and welcoming it back in everytime he pushed in. Making your mind fuzzy, your ears seemed stuffed with cotton as you could no longer concentrate on the animalistic grunts Yunho was letting loose into the night and only on the way his enormous cock felt inside you.

He continued to screw his cock deep into you on this unbelievable rhythm. His hand left your waist to toy with your nipples again, cupping your breast and teasing your hard nipples, rolling them in his fingers until you couldn’t stand anymore, your legs threatening to give out at any point under the crushing weight of your oncoming orgasm.

“Fuck m’ gonna” you started.

“Not yet, whore” Yunho said, slapping your ass once more and abruptly pulling his cock out. You whined, your high was fading away as it was within grasp a second ago.

Yunho grabbed the knife again and put the sharp side on the skin of your neck, not pressing enough to breach the skin but enough to be threatening to do so. He shoved his cock back in.

“You better work for it. Wanna cum? Help yourself.” He laughed again. “Bounce on my cock like a good little slut”.

Your cunt clenched at his word, making him gasp sharply. You don't need to be told twice. Without thinking, your mind completely drunk on the idea of chasing your high you started to back up against his cock and grind his cock into you. Smashing your ass back and filling the night with the sound of his grunts and skin clashing.

“Fuckkkk. That's my good little whore. Keep going… m’close” Yunho praised.

“Yes please cum.” You pleaded out of breath. “Please fill my tight little whore cunt with your cum”

Such foul words dripping from your innocent lips had Yunho crossing the edge right that second. Thick white ropes of cum spurted out his huge cock that was throbbing inside you. The warmth pooling inside you took right along with him, your walls gripping around him and fluttering as you arched your back to somehow push him even deeper inside you, his hand digging into your skin while the other one gripped the handle of the knife still pressed to your skin.

You both stayed right there for a hot minute, his cock deeply sheathed inside you while you caught your breath before he finally slipped out letting the unbelievable amount of cum run down your weakened and shaking thighs.

Yunho slipped off the mask and helped you stand up, interlacing his arms around your waist and surrounding you in his warmth. He was back to his usual self.

“Happy Halloween baby” he said, smiling fondly at you. You chuckled.

“I didn’t know you were into such things” you said, hitting his chest playfully. He gasped with exaggerated shock.

“I didn’t know you were into such things!” he said, hugging you tightly, trying to shield you from the cold winter breeze.

He drew back a little to look at you, your hair was ruined, your mascara was smudged, your ripped skirt was barely covering you and cum was coating your inner thighs. You were so beautifully ruined for him. You looked perfect. He couldn't help his heart swelling with unconditional love for you.

“Here” he took off his leather jacket and tied it around your hips. “Let’s head back”

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i-cant-sing · 1 year

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Jason with baby reader whose very affectionate with him but a total menace with everyone else?

Platonic Yandere Batfam x reader

Yesss obviously 💖💖💖 okay but like imagine something with me:

Reader being the youngest addition to the batfam, could be Bruce's bio kid or not, doesn't really matter. The only reason she even ended up at the Wayne Manor was because perhaps Gordon kinda begged Bruce to take you in because he doesn't want you to end in the horrible foster system of Gotham, just asking Bruce to look after you for a couple of months until Gordon can find a good home and adopt you himself.

Anyways, that doesn't happen because Gordon dies. So what was supposed to be a few months, ended up being an indefinite stay.

Okay usually this would be the point when their yandere tendencies start to show but let's say this time- it don't happen.

Look Bruce and the batfam are like super busy with that crime fighting life, believe it or not, vigilant-y life takes a lot of their time. When their not busy saving Gotham, they're either at home resting and recovering, or at work/school. They simply do not have time for family bonding.

Or so you thought.

You've seen the boys going to the "secret" batcave (u found out soon about their hero identities, cause you're smart like that.) and they spend a lot of time training, so they're definitely bonding. While you don't reveal that you already know about their identities and continue to play the fool, it still kinda... hurts to be surrounded by so many people who are supposed to be "family" yet don't treat you as such. Damian snaps at you anytime you ask if you could join him and the others on anything theire doing- even something as simple as just playing video games.

(And then i found out about Damian and Dick being each others fav siblings) Dick tries to be amicable but even he'd turn down hanging with you in favour of taking Damian out to the carnival, saying something along the lines of "Oh Y/n, its just- I haven't seen Damian in a looong time, and it'd be unfair to him if I brought you along because he's just been lookin forward to this outing for so long. Maybe we can do something next time?" But next time doesn't come around, with Dick always prioritising Damian over you.

You thought that Tim would be easier to spend time with, since he's home a lot more than others, but he's a workaholic to the core, and even of you did swing by with a coffee, just to check up on him, he'd plain out tell you to leave, to bother someone else because he just doesn't have the time. And yet there he was, talking for hours on the phone with Conner.

Jason was nice to you even though you initially thought he'd hate you like he hated Damian and well... his other brothers and Bruce as well. But surprisingly, you got along with him. Probably because he thought of you as this sweet kid who didn't know any better about the world, who just needs to be shielded by Gotham and more importantly- Bruce. Maybe that's why Jason talked to you- you're the only one in the house who's not a hero. Maybe that's what he needed: a healthy relationship with someone normal. And it would've been great if he actually hung around more than an hour. No, he was far too busy with ending criminals, or as he liked to tell you "my job doesn't allow me any holidays. Also, I hate Bruce and would swallow a cactus than stay in his home." But at least he brought you souvenirs from the around the world! His "job" had him travelling the world.

Perhaps the boys are just too busy, or don't like spending time with girls, so you decided to go to Bruce. But he's always busy, either with work or with Gotham, or with one of his sons. He is aware of your presence, he just doesn't exactly know what to do about it. With you not being a vigilante or exhibiting any qualities that he would deem extraordinary or impressive, he doesn't know what to do with you. Sure, he's set you an account where he's given you more than enough money to cover all your expenses and everything else, but that's all he gives. Just financing you until you're independent. He doesn't check in with you, not really interested in your average life, and he won't say it out loud but sometimes, he may have even forgotten about you. A few times, he may have taken you along with him to some galas with his sons, and when you're alone with him, you can sense that he's not... pleased? Content? Happy? Sure, he puts an arm around your shoulder and smiles for the cameras, but you can see the way his eyes wander around the room to find something more interesting, more worthy of his attention. The way he taps his fingers with unease, giving you curt replies and dismissive smiles when you tried to talk about schoo or anything, it all made you realise that you are not a child in his eyes.

You are a burden.

No. No, that couldn't possibly be the case. I mean, he took you in. Bruce wouldn't do that if he didn't care about you, right?

Still, to test that theory, you left the gala, alone and without informing anyone. Surely, he or one of the boys would notice your absence. Surely.

They didn't, even as the gala ended, they all left in their own cars, no one even thought to stop and wonder if you were riding with any of them. Hurt and depressed, you made the stupid decision of walking home in your fancy gown. Of course you'd be pulled in the alleyway and be mugged. The low lives decided that they wanted more than just your money, and when you realised their vile intentions, you began thrashing in their arms to break free, resulting in one of them punching your face repeatedly. Just when you thought all was lost, suddenly those pervs were thrown off you and were shot dead. You looked up and were surprised to find out who was your saviour-

Red Hood.

"Jason?"

"Y/n? I mean, who?" Jason was shocked to see you here, more so when you recognised it was him under the mask.

You rolled your eyes. "You can drop the act, Jay. I've known for a while." You groaned in pain as he helped you up. "Shit, you okay?" He asked, helping you walk towards a nearby bench. "Yeah. I mean I got mugged, but yeah..."

"Wait, what are you even doing out here this late?" You told him about the gala. "Soooo... why didn't you go home with them?"

You shrugged. "Just needed to confirm something."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

You remained silent, not wanting to discuss the topic further. Jason sighed before pulling out his phone. "I'm gonna call, Alfred. Have him send a car so pick you up." You grabbed his hand before he could dial.

"I cant- I don't want to go home." He raised a brow. "Why? What's wrong? Did Bruce do something? I swear to god I'll beat-" you shook your head. "No, Jay- look, I just need a break. If it's not too much to ask, can I spend the night with you? Or you can lend me some money and I'll stay at a hotel or something. Promise I'll go back home tomorrow."

Jason stared at you, trying to figure what's bothering you, but he also didn't want to push you by asking. So he nodded. "Of course, you can stay with me tonight. But only if you promise to make me your delicious chocolate chip cookies tomorrow." You smiled, nodding.

Jason took you to his apartment, cleaned up your wounds, cooked you dinner, cracked some jokes and then tucked you in bed. He actually tucked you in bed. He'd never know, but that simple gesture had you crying until you finally fell asleep.

When you returned home the next day, you weren't really surprised that no one had noticed you didn't return home last night.

No one in that house even knew how you were almost rap-

"Miss Y/n?" Alfred called from the kitchen, eyes wide as he took in your bruised face. "What happened? Are you alright?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I fell on the concrete pavement, someone pushed me accidentally-"

"Alfred?!" Bruce called from the dining room.

"You better go. And Alfred-" He stopped. "-don't mention this to him. I don't want him to worry over nothing."

Alfred nodded, leaving to serve Bruce and the boys breakfast. You don't think he'd tell Bruce and even if he did, you don't think he'd actually worry-

"Y/n?" Bruce was standing at your door, eyes narrowing at your face. "Alfred told me you fell?" He walked upto you, inspecting your face. Wait, did he actually came to check up on-

"How many times did you fell? Face first? Because that's a lot of bruises."

"It was a concrete pavement."

"We don't have concrete pavements in the house."

"I was out leaving from a cafe when I fell. Just wanted to eat some bagels." You continued to lie.

Bruce narrowed his eye at you before sighing. "Look, I don't have time for this. If you're in trouble, just tell me."

"I'm not."

"Then do you really expect me to believe that you fell? Is this a desperate cry for attention?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "If you really did fall in public, "multiple times" as you claim, did you at least get a cab? I don't want anyone taking pictures of you like this and make headlines tomorrow about one of the Wayne kids being abused. I won't have you tarnish the family name."

What? Did he just- did he really say that?

"No. Its not-" you were interrupted by his phone ringing, and Bruce left you to take the call.

You sat there on your bed, dumbfounded and even more heartbroken than before, mind replaying the words over and over again, trying to make sense, make EXCUSES for him, that perhaps you misunderstood him.

But you didn't.

That day, you had finally given up on the batfam. You refused to make a fool of yourself any longer by hoping that one day they'd accept you. You were and always will be an outsider to them. You won't depend on him any longer, even for your finances.

Years went by and you worked hard on yourself to get admission in a highly prestigious college with a fully funded scholarship, all while you worked to handle your expenses. When you got your admission letter, you didn't even bother telling anyone at home about it. Instead, you went out for lunch with Jason to celebrate (who had been dropping by more regularly ever since that night you were mugged), who was more than overjoyed, ruffling your hair and telling you how proud he was of "the only sibling smart enough to bust him out of jail and retirement homes." Jason truly did want this for you- to be normal and go to college like other normal people.

You moved out of the Wayne Manor quietly and moved into your college dorms in a different city, where you found an even better job on the side. The job that now helped you save up enough money to start paying Bruce back for all the years he had to spend housing, clothing and feeding you.

After a couple of months, you were able to wrote your first cheque to Bruce. And if it weren't for the large sum of money and your name attached to it, Bruce wouldn't have realised that he hadn't talked or even seen you for a while. He didn't allow himself to feel guilty for thinking that he may have forgotten about your existence for quite some time.

Picking up the phone, he called you and asked you about the cheque.

"I'm paying you back." Bruce was a little surprised to hear the monotonous tone.

"For?"

"The money you spent on me all these years?"

"Why? And how are you even paying?"

"I've got a job." What? When did this happen? "Look, I gotta go. I have class." You cut the call, and what class? As far as he remembers, Alfred had said something about attending your high-school graduation earlier this year.

Were you in college?

No, no. If you were attending college, he would know. Surely, you'd tell him. And even if you didn't or he forgot, he would remember paying for your tuition. Or maybe he already was, from the account in your name where he sent monthly payments.

Curious, he called the bank, only to be informed that you haven't used the account in years! They did inform him that you opened a separate account, and since Bruce owned the bank, they let him see the account and what you've using it for.

That's how he found out about your college.

You were just leaving your class to go home when you spotted him leaving the Dean's office. Apparently you were not the only one who spotted him, as your classmates all started talking about the famous Bruce Wayne. As Bruce's eyes met yours, you immediately turned and walked the opposite way until you had left the campus, and you went home.

You weren't surprised to see his car outside your apartment. But you were a little surprised to see him in sitting inside your apartment, sitting on the couch with an unamused expression.

"What do you want?" You asked, dropping your bag.

Bruce raised a brow at you. "What? No, hello?" He sighed. "Why did you leave the campus after seeing me?"

"I don't want to be associated with you."

His gaze turned stern. "Why? Are you embarrassed?"

No, I hate you. "No one will take me seriously if they knew I was related to you. I just want to be-"

"-independent? Is that why you sent me this cheque?" Bruce pulled out the piece of paper and dropped it on your coffee table. "Why are you doing this?"

"I told you, I just wanted to pay you off."

"You don't need to. You're family."

Only on paper. You thought.

You shrugged. "Doesnt matter. I'm paying you back every cent."

Bruce stood up, walking right in front of you and it was just then that he realised how much you'd grown up. You looked nothing like the scared little kid who was always peeking from around corners. You had matured, far too much for your age. He could see the little bags under your eyes, the wrinkles on your forehead, the disdain in your eyes.

"Why are you trying to cut me out of your life?" Before you could argue, he put a hand up. "I saw the documents. You didn't list "Wayne" as a surname on your college documents. You're trying to distance yourself from the Wayne name? Are you in trouble? Have you done something... dishonourable?"

You scoffed. All these years and all he cares about is his public image.

"Dont worry, I haven't done anything to bring down your family name." You spat. "Look, just take the cheque and leave. You'll never hear from me again, either in the media or otherwise."

Bruce glared at you, clearly slighted. "You're being difficult for no reason." You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from going off on him.

He turned around to leave, not bothering to pick up the cheque.

"How'd you get inside?" You asked when he opened the door. You wanted to know, especially since you took all the right measures Jason taught you to stop anyone from breaking in.

He looked over his shoulder and smiled.

"I bought the building."

You moved to a new place the next day, after you found out that the landlord refused to accept payments from you, since "your father owns the building. You don't need to pay rent." You wish it was easier to change schools though because apparently the everyone now knows you're Bruce Wayne's kid, which everyone figured out when someone called "Y/n WAYNE, please report to the Dean's office", who showed you that he had the college administration fix the little mess up of "forgetting to add Wayne to your name in all the documents" and then told you that he's very grateful to your father for his very generous donation to the college.

Bruce didn't bother you much after that interaction, except for monthly cheques and cash he'd send you, but you're never using cashing them. He also sends you regular invites to galas and social gatherings or even family dinner at home. You don't go to Wayne Manor anymore, not unless absolutely necessary.

Like today, when Bruce called you to come home for a "family portrait" for a magazine or something because the article is covering about all the Wayne kids.

You could already feel your throat closing up as the Manor came into view. You were greeted at the door by Alfred, the man saying he missed your presence at the manor. You just smiled and nodded.

"No luggage?" He inquired, noting that you only brought backpack.

"No. I won't be staying long."

You started making your way towards your room when you passed Damian's room.

"Y/n?" Dick called out, surprised to see you after so long. Or at all? You'd wonder.

"Hey." You said, eyes darting from him to the room where Tim and Damian were, both just as stunned to see you there.

"So, um... how are you?" Dick asked, unsure how to proceed this conversation.

"Great." You replied before turning around and walking to your room, leaving the boys befuddled.

Luckily, the photographer came soon and started with the shoot, and if it weren't for the photographer continuing to tell you to scoot closer to your brothers until Dick just pulled you and you ended up being squished in between them. Had Jason been here, things would be way more comfortable. But since he's been declared dead to the world, he can't be a part of the family portrait.

And later on, its time for dinner and reader is leaving but Bruce calls her back, telling her to at least stay for dinner if not for the night, and you tell him "I can't, exams are coming up." And he replies "really? The schedule your Dean sent me doesn't show any exams coming up." And after some back and forth, you finally sit down at the dinner table, chewing your food silently while the others talked. You were almost finished and this miserable reunion was coming to an end when one of them started to talk about something that triggered you.

It could be anything, from badmouthing Jason to even telling you to get off your high horse and stop thinking that you're better than them just because you've been living on your own and shit.

That's when you just couldn't hold back your anger and went off on them. Everything you'd experienced, all the emotional abuse and neglect you'd been subjected to from them, you told it all.

With tears in your eyes, you left the manor, only to be kidnapped by the Joker. Bruce and his sons didnt say anything to each other that night, except for replaying your words over and over again, simmering in their own guilt silently. Well, that was until-

"She wouldn't know the sacrifices we had to make to keep her blissfully unaware and ignorant of all the crime outside!" Damian yelled. "Just to keep her wrapped up in this bubble, outside of which is a world where she wouldn't ever truly survive if it wasn't for us!"

"Damian-" Dick sighed frustratedly. "-she never asked us to do this all. We chose this life, long before she came along. It's unfair."

"Unfair??? Then how could she claim she didn't feel "protected" when all we've done is slave over making this hellhole safe! How can she say that from the comfort of this home? She's nothing but ungrateful to us and to father! I'm telling you Grayson, if the tables were turned, she wouldn't ever make the sacrifices to save us!" Damian yelled before slamming the door on his way out.

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he asked Tim. "Do you... think we've failed her?"

Tim was staring at the ceiling, keeping his thoughts to himself. He definitely felt guilty, he remembers the way he would dismiss you.

Tim's silence was enough answer for Dick, though the two didn't know what to do next.

Thankfully, Alfred did.

"Miss Y/n forgot her phone here last night. Should I parcel it-"

Tim was already out of his seat, grabbing it. "No, I'll take it to her." Turning around, he saw Dick also standing.

"We'll take it to her. Thanks Alfred."

10 hours later, the two brothers stood outside your apartment. They knocked, but you didn't answer.

"Maybe she's at college?" Dick wondered. "Wanna wait here or go- Tim, wait for me!" His younger brother was already down the stairs when they saw Jason outside.

"What are you two dimwits doing here?" Jason asked, actually surprised to see them there.

"Y/n forgot her phone." Tim said, pulling out your phone. "She's not home. We're going to her college."

Jason's brows furrowed. "Why? She doesn't have classes today. We were supposed to meet for breakfast."

Dick couldn't help but feel slightly jealous of your relationship with Jason. Were you always this close to him? And why Jason, he was home far less than any of them.

Jason moved past them to your apartment, a spare key in his hand. "Maybe she just doesn't want to see you two."

Again, Dick couldn't help the envy that creeped up on him at the sight of Jason using a spare key to let himself in, the feeling only intensifying when he spotted many frames with pictures of you and Jason together.

After checking the whole place, you weren't there. Now, it was time for Jason to start panicking, as he asked them what happened at the manor, and he blew up at them as well for pissing you off like that.

When they had confirmed that you weren't in college or had ever returned to the city yesterday, they all went into panic mode as they informed Bruce about you going missing.

They all rushed back to Gotham, where Bruce had already pulled up CCTV footage of the place where you were last seen, hearts dropping when they saw someone come up from behind and knock you out, before kidnapping you. But no matter how much they searched for you, how many goons they beat up, they couldn't find you.

It is during this time that their yandere tendencies start to develop.

And it wasn't until a week later when they received a hint about your whereabouts, and they finally found you, in a warehouse, chained to the ceiling, a shock collar around your neck, all bruised and beaten because come on, Joker ain't gonna go easy on you.

The torture he subjected you to, it was almost comparable to the one Jason had to suffer. You were unnervingly still, and they couldn't help but wonder whether you were... dead.

That was until the shock collar went off and you screamed as your body jolted, Joker's manically laughing in the shadows.

"She's a tough one, much better than the wannabe Robin! I've been shocking her, waterboarding her, whipping her all week but she refused to tell me your real identities! I was starting to believe her when she said she didn't know, but it's just fun seeing her writhe in pain-!"

They beat Joker up, while one of them takes the collar and chains off you. You'd passed out from pain and exhaustion, and when you woke up, you were back in your room at the manor. While you were unconscious, Jason did end up revealing about how you actually did know about them being vigilantes, further intensifying their guilt and increasing their yandere tendencies, after all they do realise how they've failed to protect you.

So the story from here progresses on to when reader is actually forced by the family to stay in the manor to heal, all while their need to protect you increases the more you refuse their help.

When your injuries have healed and you're ready to leave, but they don't let you. Bruce tries to approach you, gently telling you that you need to be at home with your family, where you're safe. He wants one more chance at righting all his wrongs, he won't shy away- he admits he's made mistakes in the past with you. You back away when he tries to come closer to you.

"You don't get to choose to make up for your mistakes when you feel guilty, not when I had to spend all those years learning to live with your horrible parenting."

Tim spoke up next, telling you to just listen to what he has to say, but you cut him off with a dismissive hand.

"This is how you used to brush me away whenever I came to you, like I was some sort of fly, always too busy, too much of a hassle to even reply to a simple hello. So, why should I give you my time of the day now?"

Dick tries the comforting approach too, surely you don't hate him as much since he wasn't even around that much in the first place to cause you any hurt, promising you that he will do better this time. But you shut him down quickly too.

"I was never a priority for you then. I used to sit on these stairs, waiting for you day and night to finally be able to spend time with you. I know better by now than to trust your false promises."

Damian had a melt down next because you insulted his favourite brother. He went off on you that you never had to suffer through the same trauma as he or any of them did. How it's unfair that you don't give them another chance, how you don't understand that the Wayne's aren't a perfect family because of all the horrible things they've had to and still do go through on a daily basis.

You stared at him for a few moments before replying.

"I was almost r*ped."

The room went deadly silent, Bruce's mouth agape, Damian's eyes widening, while Dick and Tim turned pale.

"The night we went to that gala, you guys all left without me. I was pulled in an alley, mugged and almost r*ped if it weren't for Jason." You chuckled dryly. "What's worse is that none of you even bothered to call me, or even noticed that I hadn't returned home that night. I could've been dead in a ditch and none of you would've noticed for months, if not years." You wiped the tear that escaped your eye. "None of you attended my graduation, none of you noticed I had left for college, not until I sent a cheque to Bruce. I've buried you all in my past, and if it helps you sleep at night, I have forgiven you as well but I will never forget."

You looked at Damian. "And just because you've gone through some shit Damian, doesn't mean I'm undeserving of love and respect. I've experienced traumatising incidents too but the difference between you and me is that I don't use them an excuse to be a fucking dickhead."

You heard a car honk from outside. "Jason's here to drive me home- my home."

But before you could take another step, Tim had injected you with something. You jumped back, holding the puncture wound on your neck.

"W-what did you do?!" You yelled at him, and Tim only shrugged. "What's necessary."

You heard another honk, and this time, you opened your mouth to yell for Jason, only to have a hand slap over your mouth, muffling your screams for help. It was Dick, as he quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, dragging you away from the door as Bruce ordered Tim to put the whole house on lock down mode (essentially an impenetrable fortress), while Damian went outside to release his anger on Jason, both for failing as a brother to you (not that he'd ever admit it) and for Jason being clearly your favourite.

And from here on, you're being constantly coddled by the batfam (except for Jason since he does actually want to save u from the batfam). Bruce is always the first one to greet you every morning, and if you're still asleep when he comes, he might get away with patting your hair without you flinching away. He'd greet you, tell you he's expecting you to join him downstairs for breakfast. You simply turn your back to him, pulling the covers over your head, not bothering to reply to him, hoping to catch a break in this goddamn house.

You're only able to spare yourself for a few moments before the covers are yanked off you and you're greeted by the cheery voice of Dick. "Good morning, baby bird!" He'd yell before pulling you up and of the bed by your arms, and then to his chest, spinning you around as you try to escape his crushing grip. He's not fazed at all, mostly because he views you as a tiny little feral kitten who just needs a lot of love and snuggles. He drags you down for breakfast, everyone else already seated. You're seated between Dick and Bruce so that you can't run away, and also because Bruce makes it a habit of talking to you on various topics, usually about the book he'd leave on your bed. You would talk to him at first, but after a few weeks, you got bored with the silent treatment.

If its Dick's day with you, he spends most of the time trying to do anything and everything. No activity is off the table. Baking? Hell yes, but he's the only one who laughs after he intentionally throws flour at your face and fails at starting a food fight when you just leave. You wanna play board games? He's pulled out every board game in history and he very obviously let's you win. Movie night? He's build a fort (that he claims you two built together. You didn't, you just stood there while he built it.) And has all the classic films, pulls you close so that he can nuzzle his cheek with yours (again, not fazed by you trying to scratch his face off). Sometimes, he'd even bring you to the gymnasium (because Bruce can afford to build one in his house), where he lowkey forces you to learn about gymnastics, but at least he's a good spotter, cause you never get hurt.

If its Tim's day with you, he makes you spend the whole day just... with him. Look he's sleep deprived, he's lanky, he doesn't have a lot of energy like Dick or Damian, but what he does have is... perseverance. Tim will literally handcuff you to him if it means making sure you stay by his side. If he's getting coffee, youre getting coffee with him (he makes you a cup). If he's sleeping, you're right there, either get comfy and sleep next to him, or stay up and be bored because he's dead asleep. If he's in the batcave reviewing CCTV footage, you're there with him all day and even nights. He just wants to the remorse of dismissing you before to go, almost like he's trying to make up for all the time he wasn't there when you needed him, to now being in your business every second of the day.

If its Damian's turn with you, he's... weird. He doesn't actively make you do anything with him, it's more like having you observe him. He'd have you sit on the side and watch him train for hours on the end, rudely refusing to let you go do something else, or even train with him. He's playing with Titus? You're supposed to be watching him teach Titus tricks. He's going for a walk? No, you're the one who's walking while he's running laps past you. It's like he's trying to impress you to make up for his shitty words and behaviour.

As for Bruce, he likes to spend his time with you on a schedule. Have breakfast with him, then go on a jog around the estate, then accompany him to his home office where he works while you do college work (because obv, he shifted you to online education), and he definitely annoys you by standing over you while you study, not helping you until you ask for it but also not leaving so you feel intimidated under his stare and continue to make mistakes. Then have lunch at noon, followed by him giving you a puzzle or one of those fake crime files to solve, he likes to stimulate your brain and see how it works. This activity takes time so by the time you're done, Alfred has prepared supper. You both have dinner and then you both go to the library to read, because he wants to something less stimulating to the mind as your bedtime nears. Then he tucks you in bed, sits by your side and gives you a lot of positive affirmations (which he picked up from the parenting books in his library), before kissing the top of your head and leaving.

As for Jason, since he still insists on "saving" you, he's not allowed to see you. He can try breaking in all he want, he can't outsmart the Batman.

Or can he?

I had to type this on mobile with henna on my hands.

Yall better be grateful.

#yandere batman #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere dick grayson #yandere bruce wayne

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hausofneptune · 4 months

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"spicy" takes / unpopular opinions

[astro notes no. 002]

IF IT DON’T APPLY LET IT FLY. everybody’s chart is different, if you have any aspects or placements mentioned in this post that don’t resonate with you, that means the energy didn’t manifest the way that i described due to other influences in your chart (or you being delusional, idk, you decide). also, when i speak on certain signs i'm referring to their archetype and the innate energy they express. just be mindful that there's a variety of ways these energies can manifest from person to person.

disclaimers | masterlist | ask

y’all stay talking about how hard scorpios have it but y’all don’t talk about the struggles capricorns face. especially capricorn moons?? have y’all ever encountered a capricorn moon that wasn’t in therapy or didn’t desperately need it??? they be facing the most insane level of emotional distress and then turn around and pick up more shifts and start studying harder like that shit finna help lmfao

the discourse surrounding 8H synastry is... odd to me. i feel like some people (specifically the tumblr/tiktok girlies) are romanticizing trauma bonding. y’all can talk about how good the sex is all y’all want, but unless you and the person involved have a good amount of self-awareness and are spiritually evolved enough (especially if y'all have your own 8H placements in your own charts), i feel like you’re just setting yourself up to be in a “toxic” relationship with somebody. it could just be my aqua venus talking, but the whole “baring your soul” to someone and developing a possessive/jealous bond with them don't sound fun to me. i would rather perish.

everyone talks about how dramatic your saturn return is but why does no one bring up how traumatic your 12H profection years are? being 23 was literally one of the most unhinged experiences i’ve ever had

i be tryna advocate for geminis because i know they’re just lil creative mercurial sponges and wanna have enough knowledge to see everything from every side… but why do some of them act like that? and you know what i mean. especially the more “unevolved” gemini placements, they be doing the most insane level of mental acrobatics and be contrarian just for the sake of being contrarian

i have to say this as an 8H moon, i understand what y’all mean when y’all say 8H, scorpio, and plutonian placements usually face a lot of vitriol from others for no reason, but honestly, some of y’all be using that as a justification for being paranoid and manipulative. operating from a place of pain, assuming that everybody is out to get you, and being hyper-vigilant of people’s intentions isn’t the type of behavior anyone should be trying to normalize. let that hurt go pookie <3

i feel like this has been spoken about before but i’ll never understand why water signs are constantly stereotyped as the emotional crybabies of the zodiac but fire signs aren’t? water signs can definitely be sensitive and existential but prominent fire placements will literally lose their mind over the smallest shit and then be cool 10 minutes later… yes i’m looking at you aries

speaking of aries, can we address the way that they’re literally the toddlers of the zodiac and very much so behave like it? idk as a pisces i have a soft spot for them, i love their childlike, carefree spirit, and the way they be throwing tantrums for fun tickles me

this note doesn’t pertain particularly to signs/placements but astrology in general. i am begging y’all (specifically the people who are newer/beginners to astrology) to use traditional studies as a starting point and to stop taking notes from these tiktoks and tumblr posts. there are astrologers on these platforms who have done the work and studied (love y'all), but there are a plethora who haven’t. i saw a post the other day where somebody said squares/oppositions don’t indicate conflict in a chart and i felt like i was losing my damn mind. i definitely recommend the astrology podcast as a starting point for beginners, chris brennan is amazing and i still find myself re-listening to a lot of his content

i talked to one of my mutuals the other day about this, but astrology is such an amazing tool, and y’all should use it for so much more than self-validation. y’all do not need to have a certain venus placement to be considered pretty. y'all do not need certain mercury or uranus placements to be considered intelligent/creative. y’all do not have to rely on [insert random asteroid here] to know what your future spouse is gonna look like, when/where y’all are gonna meet, how they’re gonna perceive you, etc. etc. etc. i understand the hype around shit like that is due to social conditioning/constructs, but there are so many more important, relevant things you can learn about yourself through astrology that don’t revolve around "aesthetics"

the girls are gonna hate me for this one, but i don’t understand the hype around lilith. and i say this as someone with a tight sextile between my sun and BML. there’s three versions of it, two of which don’t even technically exist, and then there’s a mean/true version that affects the accuracy. if anyone has more knowledge than me on the subject feel free to give me your input, because i feel like the insane amount of attention lilith gets has to do more with the whole “dark feminine archetype” trend that the tiktok/tumblr girlies love and less to do with its relevance from an astrology/astronomical lens (i feel this way about most asteroids honestly, but we’ll wake up that tea another time)

i don’t wanna get dragged so imma end this here, as always let me know if y’all have any aspects/placements mentioned and tell me how they manifest in your life/personality! and if you have any insight feel free to let me know as well. and don’t be messy. you will be blocked expeditiously. <3

click here to read part two!

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mechaknight-98 · 2 months

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A Train to Busan (NSFW) FT Chaehyun

Author note: So I remember reading a prompt somewhere about 3 Busty Busan Beauties and this was the first that came to mind probably going to make this a mini-series so stay tuned for more. Shoutout to @leafostuff for the idea

Part II

I grab my ticket to ride the train. I loved trains ever since I was a kid and the super train on Lightspeed Rescue flew into the skies I knew I was hooked (iykyk) so I made a point of taking every “famous train” in the world today trip. A train to Busan Korea. As per usual I get weird looks and glares due to my stature and appearance.

I sit down in my seat enthusiastic and ready to begin the ride. As the train fills up the three seats around me are taken by 3 pretty ladies. In front of me was a Pretty blonde who radiated a happy energy that was almost suffocating, diagonal left a pretty brunette with a smile that curved into a half moon, and directly to the left of me was a smaller brunette with a determined look. They all politely greet me and I reciprocate of course. Their names are Jeewon (in front of me), Hayoung (diagonal Left), and Chaehyun (Direct left)

"Nice to meet you all. My name is Dinovaldo, but everyone calls me Dino"

"Dinopaldo?" Hayoung says cutely. I was going to correct her then I remembered my friend who was also Korean complained about how "Complicated my name was." so I nodded and said,

"Yeah, but call me Dino." Hayoung and Jeewon smile. Chaehyun looks at me with a focused and determined look.

"So what brings you to Busan?" Chaehyun asked as the train moved.

"Oh, I like trains and try to ride as many "famous" ones as I can," I replied. the three girls looked at me surprised but didn't say anything else. Chaehyun let out a chuckle and I went back to enjoying the ride.

A little later Chaehyun asked me, "Hey so where are you from Originally?"

"Um...Portland, Oregon. No, you wouldn't know that... The United States." I answer Chaehyun. She nods and chuckles as do Hayoung and Jeewon.

"What about y'all? Where Y'all from?" I ask

"Oh, we're all from Busan," Jeewon answers confidently. I nod now dialed into the conversation.

"How long are you in Korea for?" Hayoung asks

"Oh, a few weeks for some business in Seoul. I finished yesterday so now my last week I am just enjoying it. You know seeing the rest of the country." I replied. I noticed that Jeewon and Hayoung were starting to warm up to me and being more involved.

"Oh, that's cool," Hayoung said. I gave her a thumbs-up as we continued to chat. I learn a lot about the girls. they were all K-pop idols (whatever that meant) who were going home to visit family and just relax as their schedules had all eased up for the time being. They were all incredibly charming but also kinda dorky in an extremely lovable and endearing way. As we talked I could feel myself being lulled into a state of ease by the three girls. it worried me. They were almost too perfect, too sweet, and too engaging, so I kept my vigilance as I continued to talk to them.

While we rode the train we enjoyed each other's company until Chaehyun (the boldest of the trio) asked, "Hey I noticed you keep looking over your shoulder. Are you worried you are being tricked?" I instantly tensed and then eased again. seeing her pleasant smile

"Yeah, a little it's not often three pretty ladies just come up and talk to me. Especially for so long." I reply.

Jeewon perks up, "Aww thank you. Well, you're cool to talk to. Plus you aren't treating us any different."

"Well, I thought you were all normal ladies," I replied hesitantly

"No," Hayoung says with a cute but also aggressive tone. she takes out her phone and starts playing a video of her performing at Inkigayo along with seven other young ladies. I watched in awe as I could see it was Hayoung but her presence was so different. gone was the goofy girl who sitting across from me the Hayoung I was watching was graceful poised, with an almost deadly sense of presence I had only seen replicated in assassins. it was unnerving but also captivating. when the video finished the other ladies all showed similar videos. Each showed me a bit more about them. Jeewon is super bubbly and happy in her video and Chahyun’s video shows her range. I see a huge range of her personality but it always comes back to the determined look. That look of desire. After that, we hit the third hour of the trip and fatigue began to set in. All of us started to get heavy eyelids and one by one each of us fell asleep. I was the last one and got to see Chaehyun's head fall onto my shoulder as she was talking about how hard being the "unofficial" leader of her group was. I couldn't help but smile at her plight. her pleading eyes but strong voice made me listen and consider her words with the utmost seriousness. something she noted

"you're a really good listener," she said as her eyes fluttered as they got heavier. A telltale sign she was losing the fight with her fatigue.

"Well in my profession being a keen observer is always a requirement," I answer politely

"Oh and what do you do Mr. Mysterious?"

Chaehyun teased

"It's a secret." I teased

"Oh come on please tell me," Chaehyun asked with pleading and endearing aggression

when she did fall asleep I found myself stroking her hair carefully and her grip on me tightened. I smiled content as I watched the window and the picture continue to move and change. Looking at the other two girls I felt a bizarre pang in my heart. One I hadn't felt in a long time. Usually, I shied away from it, but this time I let the pang linger and ferment into emotion, as a smile crept on my face. Soon my eyes felt heavy and I drifted off as well.

I was woken up by a rapid light shaking of my shoulder. My eyes were forced open as I turned to see Chaehyun who lifted the armrest separating us.

"Hey, Hey wake up," she whispered.

"I'm awake. I am awake, but why are we whispering?" I asked

Chaehyun smiled with heavy desire filling her eyes look water, and said "Follow me to the bathroom."

"Why?" I asked dazed and confused.

"I want to show you why I'm the suction expert," she said as she got up leaving her jacket. I follow on instinct and when we enter the bathroom she locks the door. Thankfully the train car we were in was mostly empty and the few people inside were asleep.

when we entered the bathroom in three actions Chaehyun was on her knees. Lock the door undo my belt and spring out my cock.

"Hm, you're still soft. that won't do," she said before taking me into her mouth. I reeled back as the softness of her lips and the warmth wetness of her mouth overwhelmed me leaving me light-headed.

"Go ahead fuck my face," she said

I nod and begin to thrust into her warm wet orifice. her eyes held mine in an intense gaze that left me transfixed as I grabbed her head and thoroughly used her. After six or so thrusts she breaks taps my thigh and I pull back.

"Okay you're going to go," she says as she gets up wiping the drool from her chin before it could stain her shirt. She undid her pants and moved to the side. before she could give further instruction the intercom said

"30 minutes to Busan" I am assuming it said it in other languages as well but I heard English in there as well.

"We don't have much time so you're going to have to be quick. so just pound me, Dino." Chaehyun insists as she lines my cock with her pussy. I slowly ease in and we both moan as her sex sucks mine in whole. it's dizzying, it's hot, and wet but oh my goodness does it feel euphoric. I bottom out inside her and begin to pull out. I get halfway before plunging back into her. I repeat this two or three times increasing the pace until my body begins to override my mind and I begin to plow her in earnest. she leans her body into mine and says, "You're so big inside me." her words act like a spur to a wild buck and make me only rougher with her. I relax my grip on her waist and stroke a finger across her pillow midriff, and I whisper into her ear

"I love how soft your body is." I snake my hand under her shirt as I thrust and cop a feel. they are a lot bigger than her sweater lets on. I get a firm grip on her breasts and say, "These sexy buoyant pillows you try to hide drive me wild. I am going to call you Marshmellow from now on because I am in love with how soft and plush your body is." my words have their desired effect "I think" as I feel her pussy tighten and pulse as she turns her face to mine.

"Fuck, Fuck" she pants as I continue to piston in and out of her. I tweak her nipple and she moans even harder before I feel a rush of liquid come from between our bodies. I look down to see her squirting all over my cock. I look up to see her embarrassed.

"No No baby it's okay," I reassure my slip of the tongue makes her eyes go wide and she questions me

"Babe?" but at that point I am too far gone and begin tumbling into my orgasm with her.

"Aw fuck mello I'm cumming" I say groaning as I begin to explode into her greedy pussy. Chaehyun moans in ecstasy.

After we come down from our high Chaehyun looks at me with a shy look before cleaning herself up and leaving. Also leaving me to clean up our combined fluid mess. I do so, then make sure I look presentable and head back out. I get back to my seat where Jeewon and Hayoung look at me with knowing and teasing smiles. Chaehyun refused to look or speak to me as Hayoung and Jeewon asked me questions about the ride after they slept. Respecting Mello's boundaries I follow her very limited and guarded answers. leaving the two other girls a little miffed. after the train ride was over I grabbed my bags and bid farewell to the ladies. as I was walking away from them on the station. Chaehyun speaks up for the first time.

"Where do you think you're going, Dino? you're hanging out with us for the rest of the time you're here. so cancel whatever plans you had." Her confidence and desire have returned to her stare and I smile.

"Okay." I acquiesced

#kpop fanfic #kep1er #chaehyun #chaehyun smut #kep1er smut

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mostlysignssomeportents · 26 days

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Humans are not perfectly vigilant

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Here's a fun AI story: a security researcher noticed that large companies' AI-authored source-code repeatedly referenced a nonexistent library (an AI "hallucination"), so he created a (defanged) malicious library with that name and uploaded it, and thousands of developers automatically downloaded and incorporated it as they compiled the code:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

These "hallucinations" are a stubbornly persistent feature of large language models, because these models only give the illusion of understanding; in reality, they are just sophisticated forms of autocomplete, drawing on huge databases to make shrewd (but reliably fallible) guesses about which word comes next:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.1145/3442188.3445922

Guessing the next word without understanding the meaning of the resulting sentence makes unsupervised LLMs unsuitable for high-stakes tasks. The whole AI bubble is based on convincing investors that one or more of the following is true:

There are low-stakes, high-value tasks that will recoup the massive costs of AI training and operation;

There are high-stakes, high-value tasks that can be made cheaper by adding an AI to a human operator;

Adding more training data to an AI will make it stop hallucinating, so that it can take over high-stakes, high-value tasks without a "human in the loop."

These are dubious propositions. There's a universe of low-stakes, low-value tasks – political disinformation, spam, fraud, academic cheating, nonconsensual porn, dialog for video-game NPCs – but none of them seem likely to generate enough revenue for AI companies to justify the billions spent on models, nor the trillions in valuation attributed to AI companies:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

The proposition that increasing training data will decrease hallucinations is hotly contested among AI practitioners. I confess that I don't know enough about AI to evaluate opposing sides' claims, but even if you stipulate that adding lots of human-generated training data will make the software a better guesser, there's a serious problem. All those low-value, low-stakes applications are flooding the internet with botshit. After all, the one thing AI is unarguably very good at is producing bullshit at scale. As the web becomes an anaerobic lagoon for botshit, the quantum of human-generated "content" in any internet core sample is dwindling to homeopathic levels:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/14/inhuman-centipede/#enshittibottification

This means that adding another order of magnitude more training data to AI won't just add massive computational expense – the data will be many orders of magnitude more expensive to acquire, even without factoring in the additional liability arising from new legal theories about scraping:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

That leaves us with "humans in the loop" – the idea that an AI's business model is selling software to businesses that will pair it with human operators who will closely scrutinize the code's guesses. There's a version of this that sounds plausible – the one in which the human operator is in charge, and the AI acts as an eternally vigilant "sanity check" on the human's activities.

For example, my car has a system that notices when I activate my blinker while there's another car in my blind-spot. I'm pretty consistent about checking my blind spot, but I'm also a fallible human and there've been a couple times where the alert saved me from making a potentially dangerous maneuver. As disciplined as I am, I'm also sometimes forgetful about turning off lights, or waking up in time for work, or remembering someone's phone number (or birthday). I like having an automated system that does the robotically perfect trick of never forgetting something important.

There's a name for this in automation circles: a "centaur." I'm the human head, and I've fused with a powerful robot body that supports me, doing things that humans are innately bad at.

That's the good kind of automation, and we all benefit from it. But it only takes a small twist to turn this good automation into a nightmare. I'm speaking here of the reverse-centaur: automation in which the computer is in charge, bossing a human around so it can get its job done. Think of Amazon warehouse workers, who wear haptic bracelets and are continuously observed by AI cameras as autonomous shelves shuttle in front of them and demand that they pick and pack items at a pace that destroys their bodies and drives them mad:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

Automation centaurs are great: they relieve humans of drudgework and let them focus on the creative and satisfying parts of their jobs. That's how AI-assisted coding is pitched: rather than looking up tricky syntax and other tedious programming tasks, an AI "co-pilot" is billed as freeing up its human "pilot" to focus on the creative puzzle-solving that makes coding so satisfying.

But an hallucinating AI is a terrible co-pilot. It's just good enough to get the job done much of the time, but it also sneakily inserts booby-traps that are statistically guaranteed to look as plausible as the good code (that's what a next-word-guessing program does: guesses the statistically most likely word).

This turns AI-"assisted" coders into reverse centaurs. The AI can churn out code at superhuman speed, and you, the human in the loop, must maintain perfect vigilance and attention as you review that code, spotting the cleverly disguised hooks for malicious code that the AI can't be prevented from inserting into its code. As "Lena" writes, "code review [is] difficult relative to writing new code":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773779967521780169

Why is that? "Passively reading someone else's code just doesn't engage my brain in the same way. It's harder to do properly":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773780355708764665

There's a name for this phenomenon: "automation blindness." Humans are just not equipped for eternal vigilance. We get good at spotting patterns that occur frequently – so good that we miss the anomalies. That's why TSA agents are so good at spotting harmless shampoo bottles on X-rays, even as they miss nearly every gun and bomb that a red team smuggles through their checkpoints:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

"Lena"'s thread points out that this is as true for AI-assisted driving as it is for AI-assisted coding: "self-driving cars replace the experience of driving with the experience of being a driving instructor":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773841546753831283

In other words, they turn you into a reverse-centaur. Whereas my blind-spot double-checking robot allows me to make maneuvers at human speed and points out the things I've missed, a "supervised" self-driving car makes maneuvers at a computer's frantic pace, and demands that its human supervisor tirelessly and perfectly assesses each of those maneuvers. No wonder Cruise's murderous "self-driving" taxis replaced each low-waged driver with 1.5 high-waged technical robot supervisors:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

AI radiology programs are said to be able to spot cancerous masses that human radiologists miss. A centaur-based AI-assisted radiology program would keep the same number of radiologists in the field, but they would get less done: every time they assessed an X-ray, the AI would give them a second opinion. If the human and the AI disagreed, the human would go back and re-assess the X-ray. We'd get better radiology, at a higher price (the price of the AI software, plus the additional hours the radiologist would work).

But back to making the AI bubble pay off: for AI to pay off, the human in the loop has to reduce the costs of the business buying an AI. No one who invests in an AI company believes that their returns will come from business customers to agree to increase their costs. The AI can't do your job, but the AI salesman can convince your boss to fire you and replace you with an AI anyway – that pitch is the most successful form of AI disinformation in the world.

An AI that "hallucinates" bad advice to fliers can't replace human customer service reps, but airlines are firing reps and replacing them with chatbots:

https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20240222-air-canada-chatbot-misinformation-what-travellers-should-know

An AI that "hallucinates" bad legal advice to New Yorkers can't replace city services, but Mayor Adams still tells New Yorkers to get their legal advice from his chatbots:

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/03/nycs-government-chatbot-is-lying-about-city-laws-and-regulations/

The only reason bosses want to buy robots is to fire humans and lower their costs. That's why "AI art" is such a pisser. There are plenty of harmless ways to automate art production with software – everything from a "healing brush" in Photoshop to deepfake tools that let a video-editor alter the eye-lines of all the extras in a scene to shift the focus. A graphic novelist who models a room in The Sims and then moves the camera around to get traceable geometry for different angles is a centaur – they are genuinely offloading some finicky drudgework onto a robot that is perfectly attentive and vigilant.

But the pitch from "AI art" companies is "fire your graphic artists and replace them with botshit." They're pitching a world where the robots get to do all the creative stuff (badly) and humans have to work at robotic pace, with robotic vigilance, in order to catch the mistakes that the robots make at superhuman speed.

Reverse centaurism is brutal. That's not news: Charlie Chaplin documented the problems of reverse centaurs nearly 100 years ago:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Modern_Times_(film)

As ever, the problem with a gadget isn't what it does: it's who it does it for and who it does it to. There are plenty of benefits from being a centaur – lots of ways that automation can help workers. But the only path to AI profitability lies in reverse centaurs, automation that turns the human in the loop into the crumple-zone for a robot:

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/01/human-in-the-loop/#monkey-in-the-middle

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Jorge Royan (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Munich_-_Two_boys_playing_in_a_park_-_7328.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

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#pluralistic #ai #supervised ai #humans in the loop #coding assistance #ai art #fully automated luxury communism #labor

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yaespook · 7 months

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Canines.

✧ Room Content: Dom! Top! GN! AMAB! Werewolf! Reader x Sub! Bottom! Wriothesley, oral (reader giving), snowballing, rimming (reader giving), gratuitous mentions of spit, muzzle and leash with collar used on Wriothesley, knotting. Leave a note if anything was missed out. ✧ Retrieved Notes: [The bottom paws of the fortune cat appear on the front desk.]

Getting a new rookie transfer under him this late into the year wasn’t exactly what Wriothesley was expecting.

His office door opens abruptly but you seem almost as bewildered as he is at this surprise. No biggie, the issue is sorted out quickly and seeing that you don't have any case files or inmate registration papers on you (or any sort of personal records at all for the matter), he runs through the essentials before sending you off with a list of duties.

He watches as you leave his office, you'll undoubtedly be an interesting case to handle.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Wriothesley finds you nice enough to be around during work. You're considerate and you work hard to get your job done. It's pleasant to have another regular familiar face beneath the depths and he's not above sharing his tea with you during your shared breaks. And growing closer, he asks you to box with him.

“Just some training, for fun, that's all.” He's lounging in his chair and cracks an eye open to gauge your reaction. “Feel free to say no if you don't want to. I won't die from the rejection.”

Wriothesley is assured in his combat skills, given his experience in the ring and his daily training. So how is it exactly that he's found himself in this position?

Dragging out the spar by starting off defensive, dodging his attacks, it seemed as if you were going easy on him.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re going easy on me?” He throws a series of hooks and a particularly forceful uppercut.

But he wasn't interested in winning this friendly battle, he wants to see what you're truly made of. Hence, kicking it up a notch, he doubled the speed of the punches he's throwing, forcing you on the offensive.

“You’re asking for it, Wrio!”

He's caught off guard when you start reciprocating and meeting him with the same speed and intensity in your attacks. Sure, your footwork and pivoting could use some work, but there's something surprising in the force behind your punches.

It ends when you manage to wrestle him into a headlock, the both of you sweaty and panting, his head pressed against your chest as he's suddenly aware of how close the two of you are. Tapping twice on your bicep hooked around his neck, he admits his defeat this time around. Freed from your restraint, he takes the time to massage his trapezius muscles as he gives you a once-over.

“That was a good one, another next week?”

You cough, “I think I’ll need more than a week to recover,” your tone sheepish.

It’s not often he’s beaten during spars, and for a rookie like you to do so? Extremely interesting. What exactly is your background? The secret to your seemingly supernatural strength? Since this incident, he’s found himself drawn to you even more.

However, keeping an extra vigilant eye on you means that he picks up on the smaller things that might be signs. The next Friday, you clock in later in the day, missing your shared tea breaks with him, and you clock out far earlier than usual, evident from the little note you leave at your desk when he looks for you.

“Sorry Wrio! Something urgent came up!”

He quirks an eyebrow up at this. What could have been so urgent that you had to leave immediately? Are you alright? Glancing around, he notices a bag left on your chair. Perhaps you left it here in your haste while leaving, but what if its contents are important to you? No matter, he'll see if he can pass it to you after work, it's a good chance to check up on you too.

But since you aren't around for the rest of the day, Wriothesley has strangely discovered that he's getting through his mundane paperwork and administrative duties a lot slower than if you were present. His brows furrow as he sighs to himself and sips his tea alone before continuing his work.

By the time he's done wrapping everything up and leaving, the full moon is already high up in the night sky. When he tears his eyes away from it, he spots you out of the corner of his eye. Though he would call out to you, your behaviour is suspicious, slinking around the shadows sneakily as you try to stay hidden. Wriothesley decides to tail you, just to make sure that you don't get into any trouble that he'll end up having to sort out. (And that he's also worried about you.)

His guard is up when you step into a wild forested area. The dim moonlight breaks in through the leaves of the canopy area, just enough for him to make out the ground beneath him. He watches where he steps in order to avoid generating any noise that might alert you but the second he looks back up for you, you’re nowhere to be seen.

Uneasiness starts to kick in. Wriothesley is uncaring of all the ruckus he’s making while rushing past trees and brambles as he scrambles to search for you. The thorns scrape and tear at his clothes but he pushes on, launching into high gear.

However, the deeper he gets into the forest, the more Wriothesley begins to notice things going terribly wrong.

There’s a heavy presence lurking amongst the dark shadows, one that has its eyes trained on him, watching his every move. Lumbering footsteps echo throughout the forest around him, as if getting closer and closer to his location. The sound of twigs nearby snapping sharply and the rustling of dry bushes. Trying to get to a better lit area within the forest, the chase is on.

He’s being hunted.

The vegetation begins to thin out slightly as he skillfully weaves between trees and he reaches a clearing. Catching his breath, he surveys his surroundings, keen eyes looking for any signs of movement. The moon hangs overhead, sharing its pale light.

And from the treeline, something pounces.

He stumbles back at the sudden impact, the wind knocked from his chest as he collides with the ground, eyes clenched shut. A beat passes before the weight on him suddenly lifts and he hears a gravelly yet oddly familiar voice, “...Wrio?”

Forcing his eyes open, he finds himself at a loss for words.

“I’m so so sorry. I assumed you were some kind of hunter stalking after me and…” your words spiral and trail on but he can’t seem to process anything you’re saying since he’s preoccupied with taking in this sight of you.

In this form, you’re a lot taller than he is and your physique is nothing short of intimidating. Is this where your impressive strength comes from then? Raking his gaze over your body, he pauses at your flexed thigh muscles from holding yourself above his pelvis. (You could crush him between them and he’d die a happy man.)

Your fur gleams under the moonlight, captivating him as a gentle breeze ruffles through it. By the time he tunes back into your spiel, all he catches is you saying, “I’ll make it up to you-”

“Make it up to me?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me then.” He sees your ears shoot up as you try to gauge whether he actually means it and he tacks on, “I’m being serious. Plus no one will find us here, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Fine, but pipe up if I’m too rough on you.”

A grin stretches across Wriothesley’s face at your agreement but it’s quickly replaced with a hiss when you drop and grind your dick down against his. Leaning forward, you have him completely pinned beneath you, your body heat and larger frame on his is simply dizzying.

“I’ll give you some kisses to start, hmm?”

He watches as your maw opens wide, showcasing your sharp teeth. He can feel your canines on either side of his face as you lick at his lips but there’s enough trust between the two of you that you won’t clamp down, your fangs gently grazing his skin. You wouldn’t hurt him after all.

You bury your snout in his neck, taking in his scent as the both of you grind against each other, a snarl leaving your throat as you feel how hard and soaked he’s getting under you.

“So wet, Wrio. Are you that desperate?” Shifting and sitting up to strip him of his clothes, he chuckles as he replies, “Only for you.”

Taking off his shirt, you let out a low whistle at the man before you. His broad shoulders, salt and pepper chest hair on his pecs, the body hair and healed scars littered throughout, and not to mention his lovely happy trail up till his naval. Truly, a sight to behold.

Getting him out of the rest of his clothes, you nudge his legs apart and settle between them. Compared to your looming stature, Wriothesley gets a sense of how much smaller he is when your hands grasp at his thighs. (Or are they paws? Whatever. As long as they treat him real good tonight.)

Tracing the tip of a claw down his inner thigh, you watch him shudder, eyes widening as you get closer to his drooling cock.

“What? Already so turned on by me hunting you down and a little grinding?” You tease and a heat rises to his face, retorting, “Shut up.”

You bury your face closer in, snuffling as you lave a rough warm stripe against the underside of his length, the taste of his precum on your tongue. His legs clamp down slightly on your head when you do so and it’s apparent that he’s enjoying your attention on him. Almost as if he wants you to devour him whole.

Changing tactics, you shift your focus to enveloping the underside with your tongue before taking him into your mouth, careful to watch your teeth. The heat engulfing him has Wriothesley groaning loudly, his hips bucking into the warmth as his restraint starts to slip.

“Mffph… so good-!” He throws an arm over his eyes, more clipped moans escaping him while you swirl your tongue, working him to his peak.

But just when he’s about to tip over the edge, you let him out of your mouth, panting as he watches a thick strand of saliva stretch from your tongue to the tip of his dick.

“Hah… Why did you stop?” Sitting up on his elbows and supporting a frustrated scowl on his face, he looks laughably similar to a kicked puppy.

“Patience, dear Wrio, you’ll get your recompensation in due time.”

Moving one hand to his cock, you pump up and down languidly, aided by the copious amounts of precum and spit. His head spins when he feels you tonguing and lapping at his balls, your hot breath hitting the sensitive skin there.

You dip further down to lick at his rim, peering up to observe his reaction. And it’s amusing. His hands fly to grab at your shoulders, eyes shot open as his chest heaves.

“You liked that?” When he nods, that’s all you need to continue.

Manoeuvring him and hiking his hips up, he yelps at the shift but it quickly tapers into a moan as you press your tongue flat against his rim. You don’t stop stroking his cock as you slowly breach his hole, gingerly prying him open. Wriothesley sucks in a sharp breath at this and grinds down on your thick tongue, forcing it deeper, the pleasure in him building and spiking.

It’s not long before he’s spurting onto his tummy with a drawn out moan, walls clenching down on you and his hips stuttering up with his orgasm. Detaching for a second, you lick a long way up from the base of his dick to his dripping tip and his heaving abdomen, collecting his cum on your tongue.

“Open your mouth, Wrio.” And when he complies, you let your tongue hang out of your maw, a mixture of his cum and his saliva sloppily dripping from you and into his mouth. The ravenous look he gets when he swallows sends a shiver down his spine.

“So good for me, Wrio. Let’s move on shall we?” You give him a sly lick on his cheek. “Can you loosen yourself up a bit more? Wouldn’t want to rip you apart when you take me.”

After coating his fingers in your slick spit, you watch as he preps himself for you. Gazing around, you spy your bag discarded to the side on the ground.

“Aww Wrio, were you trying to bring me my bag I left?”

“Mmph yeah-! I was worried- ah! -about you,” he grunts out his answer.

You respond with a low pleased rumble, stalking over to your bag and rifling through it to find what you’re looking for. From it, you retrieve a set of a collar with a leash and an accompanying muzzle. To Wriothesley’s surprise, it’s in his colours, complimenting shades of reds and greys.

“I bought it impulsively earlier today, thought of you while doing so. I think I’m in some sort of a rut,” you explain lowly, your eyes level with his and he feels as if he could be consumed with your gaze alone.

Licking the shell of his ear, he can feel your breath fan across his nape as you continue, “Because of you, Wrio, no doubt.”

“Put it on me then,” there’s no hesitation in his voice when he says this and a satisfaction fills him when he sees your tail start wagging.

Carefully, you latch the collar around his neck, making sure it’s comfortable for him before moving on to fixing the muzzle on him. Finally, you attach the leash, the clip sound completing the set.

As you take in how utterly delectable your Wrio looks for you right now, a filthy sense of pride rises up within you. You, a beast, managing to twist and warp and transform your human’s visage into one akin to yours, to have him leashed and muzzled as if he were the one with piercing canine fangs and a monstrous secret. And that he doesn’t cower or tremble with fear when pinned beneath you. It’s all too deliciously sinful.

The end of the leash is held in your claws as you eye him down. You manhandle him onto his fours and you line the tip of your cock at his hole.

“I’ll take it slow, tell me if it hurts,” your head presses against his rim as it gradually pries him open, the wind is punched from his chest at your thick girth. Slowly sinking into him, Wriothesley’s vision spins as you split him open on your cock, the stretch an intoxicating one that has him wanting more.

When your tip nudges against his prostate, he’s left seeing stars, a debauched moan slipping from his lips.

“Ughk!? Is it- hah! -is it all in?” You shush him, ghosting your claws on the skin above his arched spines.

“Just a bit more, you can take it, can’t you, Wrio?” An uncharacteristic whine rips from him when you finally bottom out in him, flush against the back of his thighs as you reach unfathomably deep in him.

You give him time to adjust to your size before you start moving, setting a relaxed pace to begin with. He squeezes down on your cock as you roll your hips, unrestrained noises escaping him as all sense is fucked from his mind.

Picking up the intensity, you pull out halfway before slamming back into him, positioning your tip directly at where his prostate is while tugging on the leash.

“Hngk-! So big- AH! Fuck!” Wriothesley’s eyes roll back into his head, mouth hanging open.

Your repeated motions have him going crazy, his arms wobbling at the brutal onslaught of pleasure before giving out, the only things keeping him up are the knees folded under him and your hand clamping around the side of his hip.

Seconds blur into minutes and he doesn’t even know when you’ve started pounding relentlessly into him. Your thick shaft drags against his walls and he can feel every vein and twitch of your cock.

Sensing you pulling on the leash, he turns and looks up at you, letting you see the drool dripping from his parted lips in the muzzle, his eyes unfocused and glazed over with nothing but raw lust. You give him a lick on his cheek, a kiss, before you fold your body over his, completely pressed against his back, pinning him beneath your massive frame.

“I’m close Wrio,” cooing into his ear again, your gravelly voice brings him back, “Want me to knot you?”

He babbles pitifully, “Uh- uh huh! AH! Yeah-! I- I want you!”

“You’re really asking for it now,” growling at his mindless pleading, you drive your cock in, a guttural howl leaving you as you climax, finally knotting your Wrio. The knot at your base stretches Wriothesley out even more and he can feel your cum filling him up inside. The searing pleasure causes him to pull taut, his back arching as he orgasms again, moaning as he tightens up around you, milking you for all you’re worth.

The forest clearing is filled with the sounds of the both of you panting as you recover, checking in with Wriothesley to assure that he’s alright. While you wait for your knot to go down, you take the time to free him from the muzzle. The second you do, he leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of your snout, a lazy grin hanging from his face.

“Hah… I think you’ve made it up to me,” a glint in his eyes, “Another round next week?”

[> You add a muzzle, collar, and leash set to your collection.]

Thank you kindly for reading. Consider supporting on kofi if you enjoyed this or visit the other doors.

#📜.Shapeshifting Hallways #📜.qi writings #📜.qi musings #genshin x reader #genshin smut #sub genshin #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #sub wriothesley #werewolf smut #dom reader #top reader #kinktober

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justporo · 7 months

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"You always meet twice in life!"

A few weeks ago I got a request for writing something with Tav being the scary, protective one of Astarion in a established relationship by @nyxiethesimp .

And I absolutely love the thought.

So have Tav losing it to protect Astarion when they Araj Oblodra, Astarion being like "hot damn" and enjoying his scary dog privileges. Also this will become a two part story with Astarion and Tav taking a muuuuch needed break after this.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav

Warnings: Lots of swearing, graphic descriptions of violence, heavy spoilers

Wordcount: 2,6k

~~~

You had finally made it to the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. It had only been a handful of days since you had made it to the city but those had already been filled with way more events than you could possibly process in this short time span.

Your encounter with Astarion’s “siblings” had especially rattled you. Already you had been worried about entering the domain of Cazador. But seeing them, hearing about what it was that the vampire lord had planned from their mouths and Astarion hesitantly opening up about more atrocities he had suffered by the hand of Cazador Szarr had you on edge to say the least.

You were always hyper-vigilant – even more so than since all this had begun. You were barely getting any rest, always wanting to be on the lookout for Astarion. All you wanted was for him to be safe and sound and happy – tugged in with a nice blanket a teddy bear and a big smooch on the forehead.

Basically, if it had been possible, you would have shrunk him down and stuck him in your pocket, so he was always safe with you.

But since that sadly wasn’t an option, you had settled for taking every safety precaution possible, being on high-alert all the time and volunteering as his teddy bear: snuggling up close with him every night in your room at Elfsong Tavern and telling him how much you loved him.

It was safe to say, you both didn’t get a lot of sleep since fear and worries (not only about him but all your friends) kept you up most of all nights but at least you had each other.

Closing in on the lion’s den was only making it worse; also the fact that it actually was more than one den and more than one lion.

Today you felt that your fuse was especially short. Already you had barked at Shadowheart when she had been taking too long to get ready in the morning. And it must’ve been bad today because even Astarion had looked worried when he had softly touched your hand after you had thrown the door to Shadowheart’s room so violently the floorboards had shuddered.

“My love, as much as I love how strong and intimidating you can be”, he had said and softly taken your face in both his hands. “I don’t think screaming at the cleric will help us with any of our tasks. We don’t actually need more enemies against us. And I fear Shadowheart would make a formidable and very terrifying enemy.” Astarion’s brows had been deeply furrowed as he had angled his head and kept looking at you.

“I’m sorry, Astarion, I just-“

“No need to apologise to me, my love, I know how it burdens you to keep everyone safe.” Then he had softly and sweetly kissed you.

“You especially”, you had whispered between the kisses and made doe eyes at him. All of a sudden, the sleep deprivation and anxious feelings had you almost tear up – you were so exhausted.

“Oh my sweetheart”, Astarion had purred and tried to cheer you up with a smile but it hadn’t worked. “I hope you won’t forget to keep yourself safe, my heart.”

“You know I kind of suck at that, Astarion.”

“Good thing you have me to look out for you in turn then.”

A smile had crept back onto your face then and you had leaned in for another deep kiss when the door you had smashed only a short time ago opened up again and Shadowheart strode out.

“So, first you scream at me and then you make out just outside my room. Tav, as much as I appreciate you, you really need to get your hormones in check”, the cleric had declared while crossing her arms over her chest. Then she had went past without a word more but a sassy flip of her braid.

Then the party had started to make its way through the city: today’s mission was to scout out the Upper City, so you walked different streets today. Some of them were even new to you but Astarion certainly knew almost all of them.

Still in the Lower City you passed an inconspicuous looking house that became very suspicious once you heard a very loud explosion coming from it and a familiar drow came running out on the porch – Araj Oblodra.

Your eyes immediately narrowed, remembering how the last time had went, when you had had the absolute displeasure of dealing with her. Not only had her attitude been incredibly rude and teeth-grindingly arrogant in general, but the way she had treated Astarion was still making your blood boil. As if he was merely a thing to do her bidding, as if he had no own will or freedom.

Of course, what had come of that encounter had been sweet and lifechanging for you and Astarion, but you frankly could have done very well without it. Back then you had sworn to yourself that if you ever came to meet her again – or any other person who tried to hurt or simply disrespect your soulmate – you would make her pay if she hadn’t learnt her lesson.

And just seeing that arrogant face again made you want to claw her eyes out. Your face became an expression of disgust.

And sure as all Nine Hells: she spotted you and your group and a sort of malicious grin entered her face.

“Ah, what a coincidence, it is you, traveller. I was just experimenting with your blood – it is quite volatile and has allowed for many interesting experiments already.” She looked quite proud of herself – you wanted to retch.

“Why don’t you come in and let me show you what I’ve been working on. I could offer you more potions. If you were to offer me more of your blood of course.” Her grin grew and you could feel your stomach turn.

You threw your companion asking looks because you frankly had a very bad feeling, but… “I guess we could use everything we can get in the fight against the Absolute.” Gale who was standing behind you on the right voiced your thoughts exactly.

Astarion to your left growled at the wizard, making your head swing to him. He still had his teeth bared at Gale, but his gaze snapped to yours: “It’s your call, my love, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

His red eyes softened when he said that, and you were sure you could hear a quiet disgusted noise coming from Shadowheart.

You looked at him a moment longer. But Gale was right: you couldn’t actually pass up an opportunity that might present you with something useful for your task.

You sighed and turned around to the drow and slowly made your way up to her. She was grinning knowingly. Already you wished for nothing more than to wipe that smug look off her damned face.

You all followed her inside where she started to explain condescendingly what she had been doing with your blood as you stood there, arms crossed and your patience running thin.

Araj’s eyes kept wandering to your left where Astarion was standing. So you took a step back and casually grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his – clearly stating that she had to deal with the both of you.

When the drow saw your gesture, her face formed into a sneer and she interrupter her sentence: “Ah, I see you might’ve taken my wish and idea to get closer with your vampiric beau and made it your own. How thrilling!” You squeezed Astarion’s hand as you positioned yourself more squarely in front of the drow. The vampire tensed a little as the drow kept talking.

“The heart-stopping bloodsucker. I hope you’ve changed your mind – I mean since you’re obviously fond of the one neck already. My neck is yours, any time”, she finished and gave Astarion a look that would rather be meant for someone you wanted to get inside your bedroom and not someone you wanted to bite you. And it struck flaming hot jealousy into you.

“And I will be refusing until the end of time”, Astarion replied in a mocking high-pitched tone “I’m done bowing to the whims of others.” His tone deepened then, a growl almost laced with the words he let out through gritted teeth.

“Astarion, we can leave if you don’t want to be around her”, you offered him with a quick glance. His eyes darted from the drow to you and answering with a slight, quick smile. You could see that all others of your party also seemed more than displeased and tensed.

But before the vampire could answer you, Araj scoffed. “Pathetic weakling spawn – do you need your guard dog to protect you now?” Her lip was curled into a mean smile.

Something inside you snapped – the remaining string of patience that had been tense and worn thin for days if not weeks suddenly non-existing.

With lightning-quick reflexes you let go of Astarion’s hand and bolted towards the drow. Grabbing her by the collar and pulling her towards you until she was almost nose to nose with you.

“How many more times until you get it in your fucking head?”, you screamed at her and shook her violently. “He does NOT WANT TO BITE YOU AND HE NEVER WILL, YOU DAMNED BITCH!”

Your teeth were gritted and bared as you stared in the drow’s eyes wide with shock. You were absolutely feral, searing hot anger made your heart race as you clawed at Araj’s collar. It slowly cut off her air ways – you couldn’t care less.

No one was going to threaten or insult Astarion as long as you had a say in it – and certainly not this bitch. You dragged her in even closer and bared your teeth at her as she tried to get away from you. But you had the advantage of righteous and pent-up fury.

But a soft touch on your shoulder distracted you a bit, your hands loosened a little on the drow. “Don’t waste your breath on her, darling, she’s not worth it”, Astarion said directly behind you. “Let’s just leave, my love.”

Astarion, who usually delighted in people getting the sharp edge of your knife or an arrow to the eye from your bow, seemed a bit distraught by your sudden outbreak of violence. This was not exactly a behaviour he knew from you or expected from you.

“If I ever meet you again, I will fucking kill you”, you hissed at Araj and then slowly let go of her. You opened and closed your hands a few times to loosen your fingers again as you turned around and grabbed Astarion’s hand again who still looked – if not shocked, at least a bit surprised. He wasn’t used to people so aggressively taking his side and protecting him, although it had already been the second time you and him had denied the drow.

You heard Araj cough behind you from you almost strangling her.

The whole party had turned their backs to walk out the door again, when the drow spoke with a hoarse voice: “Pathetic low-life surface elves. Next time I’ll see you, I’ll bury a fucking stake in your vampire fuckboy’s HEART!” She screamed the last word.

That was it. You completely lost it. You whirled around and sucker-punched her with possibly the mightiest right swing you’d ever landed. The fluidity and acceleration of your graceful turn and motion towards the drow gave you the power you lacked in pure strength.

Your fist connected with Araj’s face who had absolutely no time nor means to avoid the hit. You struck her squarely on her nose and lips and you could hear her nose crack as her lip split and you probably knocked out a few teeth as well. The drow’s head was rocked back and connected with the wall she had been standing in front of. She was immediately knocked out and toppled to the ground as you groaned at the jolt of pain that had shot from your hand through your whole arm and upper body.

“You always meet twice in life, don’t fucking make it three times, you bitch”, you said as you shook her blood from your knuckles. The drow was alive but wouldn’t get up anytime soon.

Your friends were all stock-still and quite openly shocked at your display of violence. Even Astarion’s eyes had widened and he stared at you.

“I’m fucking done here”, you exclaimed and rushed outside while shaking your hurting hand. You threw Astarion a glance in passing and then stormed outside to cool your anger.

And as you threw the door close behind you, you were pretty sure, you heard Astarion mutter under his breath: “Well, mark me down as horny and scared.” And was that Gale agreeing with a shocked “hm-hm”?

You stood around aimlessly on the porch and carefully looked at your hand – your knuckles had split and were bleeding. Astarion strode outside after you – alone.

You looked from your hand to him. All your anger had disappeared now and had left you powerless and exhausted. Tears started streaming down your face.

“I’m sorry, I only wanted to protec-“, you started as you thought about the mess you had just created. But Astarion cupped your already wet face and kissed you with open lips.

That’s how you stood for quite some while. Astarion’s thumbs softly brushing away the tears from your eyes until they had dried up. After, when he had softly broken the kiss but kept holding your face he said: “There’s absolutely nothing to apologise for, my love. In fact, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for you to not only take my side but… uh… rather aggressively defending it.” His arms glowed with admiration and love and then he leaned in again to kiss you. You simply sniffled.

“Besides”, he said a few moments later when his lips left yours again and you had almost forgotten you were not alone in the world, “I mean it’s usually two men fighting to defend the honour of a woman, but I feel absolutely flattered that you’re out here knocking people out on my behalf. I would now definitely offer you my handkerchief with my initials embroidered into them as a token of my affection. And it was kind of – hot. Even the wizard thought so.” A huge grin split the vampire’s face and made you break out into a giggle.

As you moved to wipe away the last of your tears with the back of your hand, Astarion gasped a little. He quickly grabbed your injured hand and inspected it.

His thumb gently wandered over your knuckles as his brows kneaded together in worry and you hissed from the pain – looked like you’d hurt yourself more than you realised at first.

“Speaking of handkerchief – I’d really like to have one on my person right now to clean up your poor hand, my love, but I’m currently out.”

You simply replied with a soft mocking “aww” and made a face as Astarion kept carefully turning your hand over.

Then his head snapped up again and he watched you with a mischievous grin on his face: “That’s it, my love. I’m stealing you away for a day of rest and relaxation.” You immediately wanted to protest.

“Ah ah ah, my sweet, I won’t take no for an answer. You desperately need a break and I will get you this embroidered handkerchief as you are now my chosen champion to defend my delicate and precious honour”, Astarion said with a wink and a smile.

And then he kissed you again.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #shadowheart

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dewdropdinosaur · 1 month

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Flush Little Baby, Don't You Cry

ALASTOR x READER

Summary: Alastor thinks your permanent blush is cute, similar to Charlie's even. But what if you aren't actually blushing at all his advances?

Warnings: Small mention of scars, allusions to death. Rating: PG

For the always lovely @anon-of-the-void Ask and you shall receive my dear!! Requests are still open - see pinned post for details!

In the chaotic space of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the swirling chaos of Hell, an unexpected connection began to blossom between Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, and you, a newcomer to the hotel's staff as a receptionist.(To which Husk was greatly pleased that now he could just focus on bartending and not deal with as many ‘idiots’)

Alastor, with his charismatic demeanor and macabre sense of humor, found himself strangely drawn to your presence. You were different from the other inhabitants of the hotel, having a quiet demeanor and gentle nature standing out amidst the cacophony of voices and chaos. However, neither of you had dared to voice romantic interest, both of you unsure of the other's feelings and your own.

It was during one of your chance encounters early on in the hotel's grand foyer that Alastor noticed something peculiar about you. Little red circles adorned your cheeks, slightly tinted whenever you smiled or laughed. Even when, and especially when, frightened - they glowed slightly. Alastor found himself captivated by this. At first, he dismissed those little circles as mere blush or simple state of your demon form similar to Charlie or Nifty, finding them endearing in their resemblance to the delicate flush that adorned his mother's face in his long-forgotten memories of his mortal life.To him, it was endearing, a subtle charm that only added to your allure and reminded him of a simpler time in his life that brought him a sense of peace and familiarity.

Because of this assumption, Alastor's fondness for you only grew, his interest piqued by the circle's presence. He found himself seeking out your company more often, engaging in lively conversations and sharing moments of laughter amidst the chaos of the hotel, just to see the cute flush of your rosy cheeks every time. The revelation ignited a fierce protectiveness within Alastor, a primal instinct to shield you from any harm that might befall you. He watched over you like a silent guardian, his presence a comforting shadow in the tumultuous world of the hotel.

However, his actions did not go unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the hotel, who watched with a mixture of amusement and bemusement as the usually aloof Radio Demon became fiercely protective of their new receptionist. Some whispered behind closed doors, speculating on the nature of your relationship, while others simply shook their heads in amusement at Alastor's unexpected display of strange affection.

As the days passed, you too began to notice Alastor's increased vigilance and protective nature. Sensing his concern, you decided it was time to address the elephant in the room. One evening, as the chaos of the hotel ebbed into a rare moment of tranquility, you found yourself alone with Alastor in his radio room, a perk that only you and Nifty enjoyed. It was a cozy tower despite its menacing metal exterior, with cozy chairs and vintage curtains. A lot like Alastor in a way, scary on the outside and maybe even the inside but something sweet and old was there too.

Taking a deep breath and mustering the courage to broach the subject that had been weighing on your mind, you spoke.

"Alastor," You began softly, voice barely above a whisper, "I noticed you've been... different around me lately. And I think it's because of these." With a hesitant hand, you gestured to the crimson circles on your cheeks that had remained beneath layers of uncertainty and shame. In your time in Hell, many had found out about the circles on your cheeks. And had left you for them. So you were worried about approaching Alastor on this subject to say the least.

Alastor turned his attention towards you, his crimson eyes softening with concern. "I assure you, my dear, it's merely a demon's instinct to protect those they care about."

You nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips at his veiled confession. You would note that for later. "I appreciate it, truly. But there's something I need to tell you."

With a gentle touch, you traced your fingertips along the scared cheeks, gaze meeting Alastor's unwavering stare. "These marks... they're not from blushing or simply a part of my demon state…. They're scars – reminders of a past I'd rather forget."

Alastor's expression shifted from curiosity to empathy as he listened to this confession. Suddenly it all clicked in his head. The way you would flinch when anyone would get too close too quickly, loud noises sparked the tint of the scars to glow, and how the scars moved with each expression you made. They stayed on your face 24/7 but didn’t shrink or expand like Charlie’s with each new expression. Instead they stayed stagnant and were less of circles and more oval shaped. Definitely not a blush or demon feature now that he had a closer look.

In fact, that cute little blush that he adored so much didn't happen within the circular scars on your face but around them. How had he been so blind? His shadows would mock him later for this.

"I see," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Mhmm, yet they do nothing but add to your fierce beauty my dear."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you met Alastor's understanding gaze. In that moment, both of you realized that despite the literal and metaphorical scars that haunted their pasts, they had found solace and understanding in each other's presence.

He reached out to gently cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender despite his fearsome reputation. And this time, you didn’t flinch away but instead leaned into his embrace. It felt warm and comforting and he smelled like holiday cinnamon whiskey and pine. (Which my dear, as your sassy narrator I think sounds/smells like an Old Spice commercial but this is Hell and Alastor has no idea what that brand is)

And as you both sat together in the quiet sanctuary of Alastor's radio room, surrounded by the faint crackle of static and the soft hum of his radio, you knew that you had found a confidant in the enigmatic Radio Demon – someone who accepted your scars, both seen and unseen, and vowed to stand side to side with you no matter what trials lay ahead.

Maybe that half hearted confession Alastor made had some truth to it and maybe your confession was right around the corner too.

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wolvesofinnistrad · 14 days

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Now Expanded on AO3 here

The bed is hard and cold, not anything he isn't used to, but uncomfortable all the same. Especially with the way his body aches right now.

He wasn't even supposed to be on the ground, running into burning buildings wasn't really his main job description anymore. It was just...

The woman was screaming for her cat. And Tommy loves cats, he has his own, Missy. She's probably wondering where daddy is right now.

Who is he kidding, she probably didn't even notice he left for work.

No one is probably noticing he's missing. He likes the people at harbor, his coworkers, but they aren't family like the 118, Evan has told him how half the station will be sitting bedside vigil when any of them get injured. It must be nice to have that. After his childhood, shipped from one foster home to another, kicked out at 18, a family like that is something he's always wanted; fuck he acted like an absolute asshole just to try to get the old 118 to like him.

He's just mulling over whether calling Eddie and asking him to pick him up whenever they discharge him is too much when he hears the squeak of sneakers on the hospital floor and glances towards the door.

In stumbles Evan, looking scared and adorable and making Tommy's heart beat so fast the monitor actually beeps a few times in warning.

"Tommy, hey, are you okay?" He says, scrambling towards him, dragging a chair over with a loud scrape that has Tommy wincing at the sound.

For a moment all he can do is stare over at this human ball of sunshine, something in his chest unknotting. Fuck he really didn't think anyone would come, how did he...

"I, I'm okay," he says, trying to put on a brave face for Evan. He's older, more experienced, he should try to be calm and not get emotional.

"You look like shit," Evan says in that earnest way he has, sitting there and taking Tommy's hand in his own. His thumb brushes over Tommy's bruised knuckles, his concerned expression staring straight into Tommy's soul.

"Oh..." he says as he feels something crack open in him. Because Evan is here, he's holding his hand, he's worried for him he... He wants to take care of him, its written all over that adorable face. And well, that's, its not really something Tommy ever has anymore. "I'll be okay," he amends, and his hand squeezes Evan's even if it hurts a little. "How did you even?"

"The hospital called me. Apparently I'm your emergency contact?" Evan asks, and there's confusion there, but also something that looks like that same giddy contentment that Evan gets whenever Tommy does something to make him happy.

Fuck. He forgot he'd done that. That looked crazy and desperate, they'd only been dating a couple months.

"Uh, yeah it was either you or Chimney," he said, and fuck if that didn't sound pathetic. It wasn't like he didn't have friends. He had a lot actually, but none that he trusted implicitly like that. To see him weak and vulnerable. Chimney had saved his life though, and Evan well...

Evan leans in and kisses him. "Well I'm glad you did because I might not have known otherwise. Chim is at work right now so."

They sit for a while, Him recounting how he saved the cat but got blasted out a first floor window by the explosion. There wasn't any serious damage but he hurt like shit and had a lot of bruises and scrapes.

"Would you want to, y'know, come home with me and I can take care of you? Or I can stay at your place," Evan asks and fuck, fuck he is Not going to cry, he is not that kind of guy. But then, before he can answer.

Eddie rounds the corner, followed closely by Chim and Hen. Eddie's in plain clothes but Hen and Chim look like they came directly from the station.

"Tommy, shit, you okay?" Eddie asks, and Hen and Chim are looking at his chart by the bed and this is. Its too much. Its exactly what he wanted but wasn't at all expecting.

"I'm," he starts, looking at Evan for a moment before deciding, "I feel about as bad as I look, yeah." Evan squeezes his hand and his heart starts racing again and the monitor is beeping a little and he feels a tear going down his cheek. Evan wipes the tear away and then they're all talking. About what happened as Evan explains it for him, about a call where Hen saved a dog a few months back, about whatever. And fuck if Tommy doesn't feel safe, feel like he belongs.

Later that night, laying in his own bed, Evan having dragged him onto his broad chest in the same way Tommy usually does to him, he starts to think he could get used to this. He really hopes he can keep Evan, keep all of this for himself. Missy curls at the foot of the bed and purrs and he thinks, yeah, I feel like purring in contentment too.

#bucktommy #kinkley #tevan #evan buck buckley #tommy kinard #tommy kinard pov #mine #my fic

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leonw4nter · 1 month

Note

maybe like a lil drabble (or whatever you’d like to do) where instead of hunnigan working with leon, it’s the reader. and they be all flirty and cute and kinda like 👉👈

tbh it can work for anything post-re2r, even if its still before re4r. you can do how he acts around you in different eras (if you want to at all, or just choose an era)

sooo whatever you have most inspo with! thank youu

RE4R!Leon x FOSAgent!F!Reader drabble

After Ashley and Luis had gone to sleep in the small ramshackle shed Leon had managed to locate for the night, he sat by the entrance of their temporary shelter and turned on his comms, waiting for his radio to pick up a stable wavelength to relay information back to HQ. The dingy little thing still wouldn’t pick up a frequency, which the blond didn’t wonder about since he’s been thrown around one too many times, the walkie-talkie probably also got a small beating along with the impact his body took. After giving a small pat to the black box in his hands, he finally managed to hear the static of his handler’s voice.

“Condor One to Roost, baby Eagle is currently taking shelter in this… dilapidated hut,” he sternly reports. “Along with Sera. Luis Sera.”

A moment of silence fills the air, accompanying the gentle pitter patter of the rain on the thickening mud before you respond to his reports.

“Hmm… aerial imaging tells me you’re near a lake, am I right? Can hear the rain from here,” you say.

“Yeah. We’re not too far from a lake,” he responds. “Guess we got eyes in the sky too, huh.”

He hears a faint little breath coming from you, probably a soft scoff. He smiles to himself, the first time in a long time before he brings his wrist near to his face.

“What time is it back home?” he asks.

“1300.”

“You should probably get some rest, baby. Don’t worry about me, I’m making sure we all get out of here in one piece.”

“I want to but I can’t bring myself to,” he hears you softly respond. “I can’t risk losing you, you know. I gotta keep guard on comms 24/7 even though I know you’re great at your job.”

Leon’s heart squeezes a little bit; he knows how important rest is to someone, which is ironic considering how he hasn’t had proper rest in over 96 hours and is desperately craving a good, lengthy sleep though he doesn’t mind if it means keeping Ashley and the flirty Spaniard safe and sound. He won’t mind, most of all, if it meant keeping in touch with you.

“And besides, I have reports to send to Graham– location updates, aerial view images, all that jazz. I have many things to work on,” you say before he hears you yawn quietly. “It’s not like I can just stop doing these because I’m tired; at the end of the day, the president is a father who wants to know how his daughter is doing all the way on the other side of the world. He’s worried sick.”

“And at the end of the day, I’m just your boyfriend who wants to make sure my girlfriend is still taking care of herself despite all her workload,” Leon responds. “I know baby, I know but still take some time to rest– even for a little bit.”

A soft sigh can be heard from your end.

“Fine. But aren’t you supposed to be resting too? Don’t see any threats within a 3-mile radius, you’re good.”

“Nah. Gotta keep watch, can’t be too vigilant. You’ll be the one resting for both of us tonight,” he says.

“Leon.”

“I’ll get rest later, honey. I promise,” Leon pleads.

Another sigh. Gosh, Leon hates how you’ve been sighing a lot more lately, which meant that a lot was weighing on your mind.

“Promise me that. Or I’ll personally fly there to beat your ass.”

“I’d rather you beat something else of mine instead,” Leon jokes.

“I’ll remind you, agent Kennedy, that we’re still on government-operated frequencies so I highly recommend communicating in a professional manner.”

“Ma’am yes ma’am agent Kestrel, the absolute love of my life.”

“I’m going to go on the break you’ve been forcing me to have instead.”

Leon chuckles to himself, a small puff of air leaving his cracked and pale lips.

“Okay, okay. Good night, baby. I’ll talk to you 4 hours from now.”

“Good night, hon. I… I miss you and… please stay safe,” you sincerely whisper to him, unable to switch off the frequency connecting you to him.

“Me too. I miss you. I love you,” he says before turning the radio off and placing it back in one of the many fancy pockets he had.

He props one leg up while he sits, resting his forearm on his knee as he looks out into the dark and foggy scenery. The rain would be nice if he was back home with his girlfriend, cuddling and joking in the bed of their shared apartment instead of this miserable hellhole infested with mutants and murder-crazed cult fanatics. As much as he wanted to bring along a locket or a small picture of you he couldn’t, out of making sure that there would be no traces of foreigners that the crazy locals could use to somehow involve all of America into this. A faint creak of the rickety wooden floorboards has the hairs on the back of his head standing, his hands flying to the sleek silver pistol on his holster to point it at the source of the noise, only for the source of the noise to be the nosy Spaniard who was unfortunately very much wide awake and conscious throughout the conversation he had.

“Didn’t know you had a ladylove, sancho.” was all the man said after raising his arms up as the agent pointed his gun at him.

Leon put his gun back down, the usual smoulder and frown taking its place back into his haggard features as he sat back down and stared out into nothingness again.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to call a lady ‘baby’ or ‘honey’,” he teases. He walks up to Leon, taking a spot beside him and placing a cigarette to his lips before lighting the end of it with his lighter.

“‘You should probably get some rest, baby’,” Luis repeats with a sly smirk as he shoots Leon a curious look.

Leon simply gives him a death glare, squinting his eyes before turning his attention back to somewhere that isn’t irritating or getting on his last nerve.

“That’s not what it was.” It was what it was.

“Mhm, Sancho.”

“You be thankful she hasn’t ratted your ass out to the president yet,” he hisses.

“Good point there,” Luis sneers. “No… no anything then?”, to which Leon responds with silence.

“Then… perhaps she’d like to go out for a jive, a little dance of bachata with me,” the Spaniard presses with a shit-eating grin. “Since you two don’t seem to be anything.”

“Back off from my girlfriend,” Leon blurted as he froze the man in front of him with his steel blue gaze.

Luis puts out his cigarette, chucking it somewhere and gets up as he walks back to where he ‘slept’ moments ago.

“Okay, sancho. I can clearly see that you’re hers,” he comments. “I guess only you have the pass to call her ‘the absolute love of your life’. Buenas noches, amigo.”

With a wink, he lays back down on the floor and turns to his side to fall asleep.

NOTES - It feels great to finally get back to posting again!!! It's been quite some time and since I'm finally finished with the third quarter and my tests, I'll be more active with posting fics :)) Requests have been marinating in my inbox and I know ppl have been waiting for quite some time so here's the request, more otw!!!! I'm also eepy rn so I'm going to go to bed after I post this <3 Neways, thanks for reading my works and I <3333 UUUU!!!!!! HAVE A GREAT DAY WHEREVER YOU ARE <3

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy fluff #biohazard #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #re4 #resident evil x reader #resident evil 4 remake #re4r

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r0-boat · 3 days

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*clears throat* PUPPY! *chases Naberius*

(I'm sorry I'm a white girl who has no fear about petting the big puppy)

The funny thing is that he would enjoy it ;)

Naberius general headcanons

NSFW&SFW

His defeat growl gave me chills.

Has different levels of his form!

10% : ears and tail with fangs, they tend to pop up when he is excited.

50%: most werewolf like, Naberius can somewhat control it. He's just more animalistic.

100%: Run! He is no longer in control usually happens when his emotions are at his highest. Extreme anger/extreme sadness ETC.

Clingy, however he doesn't really like to show it. I'll follow you like a lost puppy to any room you walk in. Desperately wants your attention, your touch, even though he's trying to be professional, but you make it so hard.

He'll do anything, get you anything, He is completely loyal, hoping for your praise, your affection. Sitri hates him, calls him your lap dog. As if he also isn't as eager to serve as Naberius is.

Protective. He'll watch you chatting with other devils. He has told you before that some devils aren't as nice as the ones you've met before, but he doesn't want to stop you from hanging out with anyone you choose. However, he will not hesitate in beating The shit out of any devil that harms as much as a little hair on your head.

*Nabs pissed off and chewing out a devil*

Mc: "who's a good boy!"

Nabs: "Mc! Not now..." *He rolls his eyes unaware that His tail is wagging*

He's usually calm and collected, but once he's worked up, it's hard to calm down. Amon and Bael quickly realized that Naberius, in his Titan form, seemed to stop in his tracks when he sees you; the beast that was knocking buildings and setting everything ablaze with fire breath now sitting idly, His three tails wagging happily, nuzzling you with their big noses.

Raw and primal, that's how he thinks sex should be. He can't tell you how many times he has daydreamed about taking you doggy sinking his fangs and claws into you while he knots you. Whimpering, to fill you with his pups. His tail wagging back and for as he humps into your squeezing walls despite to milk every last drop of his seed inside you.

Naberius is just as filthy and wild as he is refined and professional. So eager to turn into a mindless beast ripping off his and your clothes and breed you, make you his mate.

To make him submit to you you'll need to overwhelm and overpower him. Collar and leash him. Make sure the collar and the leash is strong enough so it doesn't break when he shifts.

His were hellhound body is so much bigger than yours. It's not as large as his Titan version, where he towers over buildings. But it's enough to tower over you. To encase you in his arms to hold you down while he mates with you.

Nothing gets him off more than letting him chase you down; nothing gets him harder than the thrill of the hunt. Looking at you with pure hunger in his eyes as it gives you a 1-minute head start. Don't worry; His nose is extra sensitive. He could sniff you out of any hiding spot; he has memorized your delicious scent. He could feel his cock hardening when he saw you from the bushes, helpless prey, vigilant, delicious prey. He hopes you run when you see him, Even though he could outspeed you. Run and fight him till your lungs and legs give out for Naberius to tackle you down onto the ground. And he wants you to fight back, claw and bite, Kick and hit, fight to escape, or fight for dominance. He'll try his hardest to hold deep down, rip your clothes off, and fuck you good until you obey. Take you to his balls are empty, and you are both spent

He is an intelligent, demon with a lot of responsibilities. Despite his powerful position, He craves nothing more than sometimes to become your mindless little fuck pet, his only job being to serve you.

He has ruts; they're so bad if he doesn't knot some tight hole soon, His control will slip, and he will turn into a rampaging beast. He tries to lock himself away. Anyway, he can keep it at bay as much as he wants to slip and become a mindless animal. He knows how much damage he'll cause to the entire kingdom. But now that you're here, his ruts are more enjoyable. Addicted to your scent and the taste of your sweet skin, His body is practically glued to yours, nuzzling his nose into your neck, begging for you to be alone with him. Begging for you to be underneath him, begging for you to let him stick his cock inside you and knot you. He is addicted to the feeling of himself pushing inside you one last time for his knot to lock itself deep inside, with the head of his cock nuzzling against your deepest parts before emptying his balls inside you.

#smut #whb x reader #whb headcanons #what in “hell” is bad?#what in hell is bad #whb naberius #naberius x reader #whb x mc #whb mc #whb #pretty busy whb #whb fanfic #edit: forgot to add #yes he has ruts

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

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Tattooed Steve, pt. 2

Part 1 here

Soooo I ended up writing more tattooed Steve. I couldn’t resist. I also realized that Eddie would be the first person to find out but like…other than Robin. But I didn’t count her because Steve and Robin are the same person honestly at this point. Anyway I hope you like it! Pt. 1 is linked above.

—-

It’s two weeks after Vecna when he gets his first one. It’s unexpected, impulsive even, but Steve needs to feel something. He has just spent the past week and half waiting for Eddie to wake up, staring at his pale form, wishing away the anxiety with every beep, beep, beep that comes from the heart monitor. Begging for this stupid, stupid man to wake up.

He isn’t really sure why he wanted Eddie to wake up. Sure the ruggrats love him, and there is the general sense of not wanting any innocent person to die on his watch, but Steve knows deep down it’s about something else. Or more like the potential of something else. He tries not to think about it too hard.

So during that first week and half of watching a comatose Eddie, Steve takes his time studying the man. Learning every curve, and every scar. And eventually, every visible tattoo he can see. They are interesting, not all of them good, but all very Eddie. It somehow makes them better. Some of them are messed up from the bat bites (ironically the bat tattoos remain untouched), but they add to his aesthetic if Steve is being honest with himself.

When Eddie wakes up after that week and a half, groggy and confused (especially towards the fact that Harrington is practically holding vigil at his bedside), the first thing Steve says to him is “Oh thank god you’re awake.” The second is “What the hell were you thinking?” Before Eddie proceeds to pass out again.

Later, when all of the doctors and family and friends have had their time with him, the third thing Steve says to Eddie is, “Tell me about your tattoos.”

And despite the fact half of them are mangled, Steve doesn’t think he has ever seen anyone light up that bright in his life. And when Eddie starts waving his hands in excitement, Steve can’t help but think that he’s never been so close to the sun before.

So, two weeks after Vecna, Steve makes a decision. Or again, if he’s being honest, an impulse. He finds old books in the library about tattoos (which aren’t very helpful), and finds zines hidden between the pages (much more helpful) on stick and pokes.

Steve shows up with supplies from Melvad’s (for a probably very dangerous tattoo kit) at Robin’s doorstep. “Robs, I need you to give me a tattoo.” Then she proceeds to spit all of her morning tea on him.

After a lot of shouting “Did you hit your head again dingus? Oh my god did you get into another fight? Are you having a break down? SPEAK STEVE.”

And a lot of convincing, “Robin I’m fine. No I’m not having a breakdown. Robs, Robbie, Birdie, I swear nothing happen. I just want to do it.”

The end up on Robin’s bathroom floor (because of course all important things happen on the bathroom floor), with a look of deep concentration on her face. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this, with only twenty minutes from a zine you smuggled out of Hawkins Library. I can’t believe they even have zines.”

“I don’t think they were aware of it honestly.” Steve snorts. His shirt was off, a patch hair already shaved off right where is heart is placed.

“Do you know what you want?” Robin asks, head tilted.

“No, not really. I was hoping you would help.”

Robin hums, like she’s resisting the urge to point out how impulsive he’s being. Like she knows he needs to do this. “Tell me what made you decide to want one.”

So Steve does. He tell her about waiting for Eddie to wake up. Wondering why Eddie got them. Wanting to own himself again, to actually like something new on his body. Put something there he had control of. His curiosity of if it were painful. His interest behind the stories of Eddies tattoos. How Eddie lit up so bright when asked. Wanting to feel like that. Wanting to be close to the sun again.

Robin mercifully didn’t look too deeply (or at least didn’t push on it) about the interest in Eddie himself. “Okay, I think I got it. Just…hold still.”

Twenty minutes later, after three passes with pen ink and a needle, Robin disinfects his tattoo. Before she covers up, she asks “Do you want to see it?”

Steve nods his head eagerly. The tattoo had painful, more painful than he expected, but he found it sort of grounding. Something to keep him aware of himself, almost as if he was able to grasp parts of himself he wasn’t conscious of before.

When Steve stands up to look in the mirror, there he sees off center on his chest, a wonky little sun. It was something a preschooler could have drawn, but it was one of the most beautiful things Steve had ever seen, and it was made by one of the most important people in his life.

Robin says shyly at Steve’s speechless state, “You said you wanted to be close to the sun again.”

Steve scoops Robin up in an instant, ignoring the stinging both on the outside and inside of his chest. “Thank you Birdie.” Which translates, you are the only person I ever need etched in me forever.

“Always, Stevie.” Which means, you’re never getting rid of me anyway.

They pull away with tearful smiles, and silent promises. Steve can start to feel maybe not much like his old self, but somewhere on the way to who he truly is.

Then Robin says, “Okay, me next.”

————

okay I wasn’t sure if really anyone wanted more, or if I was going to do it but I actually really enjoyed where this ended up. Also I apologize for any tense changes. I quite literally type this on my phone and say screw it, without looking it over. Let me know if you want more maybe? Send me prompts even. Thanks for reading :)

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the-doomed-witch · 1 year

Text

DRIVING LESSONS

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nat teaches you how to ride her motorbike.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY; MINORS + MEN DNI. not proof read (apologies), smut, fingering (r receiving), strap-on (r receiving), bit of teasing, bit of fluff, making out

DISCLAIMER: Please note that this is a work of fiction and you are not supposed to mess around while driving and should definitely wear a helmet and stuff. Yeah just stay safe and again, remember that this is fiction.

Author’s Note: we are going to pretend that i am not the writer who uploads a fic every two months 😁 gif credits to the creator.

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION // REQUESTS OPEN

— ✦ —

Thor holds up his jug flooded with beer, and raises a toast, “Here’s to everyone’s favourite couple, the two people we adore, Y/N and Natasha!” All the Avengers cheered for the two of you. Natasha wraps her arm around you and whispers in your ears, “To us, love.”

Taking a few sips of your drink, you place the glass on the table and turn to your girlfriend. “I cannot imagine myself ever being thankful for being stupid in the past but I am. I love you.”

“I love you too. Mind who you are talking about, you’re my stupid.” She kisses your forehead, it makes you blush under everybody’s gaze.

After a few rounds of drinks and snacks around the table, you gesture at Nat to drop you back home, before she gets too drunk. She gets up and announces, as she puts on her leather jacket, “Folks, I’ll be back after dropping my gorgeous girlfriend back at her place.” She beams at you and pecks your lips. Yep, she is mildly drunk.

“Don’t forget to take your time to tuck her in bed!” Tony shouts sarcastically from afar, as you’re both walking away. He was quite inebriated and you could hear Pepper asking him to get himself together.

Outside the bar, you confirm with Nat once again, “Are you sure you are sober enough to drive me home? I could get a cab or something. I want you to be safe.”

“First of all, you’ll be sitting right behind me and you’re not scared for your own safety? Lame. Secondly, I've been trained to be vigilant all my life. I’ll be right back.”

Couple of moments later, she’s back on her motorcycle and you seat yourself on the seat behind her. “Hold me close, for precautionary concerns of course.” she tells you. She wasn’t facing you but you knew what her smirk would be like.

You wrap your arms tightly around her waist and rest your head on her back, minimising the distance between the two of you. It’s a safe, comfortably silent drive, where the breeze blows softly and the night sky gets romantically darker.

— ✦ —

Inside your apartment, Natasha sits down on your bed as you go to freshen up in the bathroom. You enjoy testing her patience and so you take your time to shower, not letting her in, but making her wait for you outside. “Y/N? Detka? At least let me shower with you or let me go back to the bar. Don’t do this to me!” you hear her calling out to you from the room. You answer back in the same volume, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

As said, you step out with a towel wrapped around your bare body. “Oh Y/N you’re not doing this to me right now.”

You reply, “I surely am, honey.” and walk around the room drying your hair, gathering clothes, putting the dirty ones in the laundry, and whatnot. While doing your currently irrelevant chores, you bring up more random things to talk about.

Clearing the pile of laundry, you ask her, “Do you think I should get a haircut? A change in colour maybe?”

“You look so beautiful today, Natty.” you say, giving her a soft peck on the cheek as you move along the room, letting her notice your cleavage.

“By the way, Nat, I would love it if you could teach me how to ride a motorcycle.”

She gets up, holds you and places you on the bed a little harshly, pinning you down with her body. In a deep, sultry voice, she warns you, “You’ll be taught a lot of stuff and being a good girl for me is going to be the first one of them.” And with that, the towel is thrown aside.

Nat leans forward to catch you in a deep kiss, the one you’ve been depriving her ever since you reached home. Instinctively, your hands clutch the collar of her shirt and pull her closer to you, till there is no space to spare.

The next thing you know is that her fingers are inside your pussy, pumping so hard. It results in you moaning into the kiss, and releasing the collar of her shirt, silently asking her to let you catch up on your breath. When she moves her face a little farther than you liked, you grab her back to proximity, all between screams and chants of her name. Small locks of her auburn hair dangle around before you tuck them behind her ears.

The movements of her digits get faster and faster till you are at the edge of your climax. It was hard to speak anything, so your body gives indications to Natasha in lieu of telling her verbally about your orgasm. It felt wonderful that none of you needed words to communicate, the silent and subtle signs were enough.

She lets you come all over her hand, adding on praiseful murmurs to bring you back to composure.

— ✦ —

The next morning, you wake up fully clothed in your PJs with no sign of Natasha. She probably went back to the bar or the compound later. But she was out on the balcony, looking at nothing tangible. “Good morning, baby.” you greet her, acknowledging your presence. She turns towards you and smiles, “Good morning, dorogoya. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. I thought you left because of work, but I guess you’re free today?”

“You know I love a bit of snuggling,” she grins sheepishly, “And I’m free for you, anytime. Are you still up for the driving lessons thing?”

“Sure! Let me freshen up and we’re gonna be ready to leave.”

— ✦ —

Nat drove the two of you to a less busier part of the city to find an empty road, for obvious reasons. You observe her throughout the trip to learn a few things ahead of the track.

On a small and empty street, Nat lets you sit on the vehicle and climbs on the seat behind you. Little by little, she points at the different stuff, explaining what their respective functions are. “Here is the clutch, you pretty much know what it does. Keep your hand on it at all times no matter what […] Place your foot here. Yes and pull the clutch. And this is how you change gears.”

An hour or so later, you were driving smoothly on the straight road with Natasha guiding you little by little. She kept both her hands on your hands at all times, praising you every now and then to encourage you.

“Keep going, Y/N. Yes, now let’s take a U-turn.”

The afternoon passed this way. She taught you some more basic things, till you suggested lunch - “I almost forgot about lunch. I know a nice place with the best Mexican food in this area, let’s go there.”

As both of you wait for your food to arrive, your girlfriend initiates conversation, “If you keep practising this way I think you’ll learn how to drive a motorcycle quite well within a week. But of course, practice is important.”

“Does that mean I could take you on a ride soon?”

“Well, it does. Here’s our lunch though.”

— ✦ —

And so, your driving lessons were continued without any other Avenger having the knowledge. Three months passed by, till one starry evening Natasha tells you, “I think you have practised enough for this moment.”

It leaves you in thorough confusion, but the look in her eyes doesn’t seem malicious so you let her do her thing. She takes you to a place you cannot recall but have definitely been to, as far as the route is concerned.

It isn’t until the both of you reach the destination when you realise you’re at the garage. Memories of her lips and gasps wash over you as you walk inside of it once again. There’s nothing very different about it as a room. There are grey painted walls and two bikes including the one you drove on just now. A few mechanical tools, cans of spray paint, some more tactical gear. In one bottom corner of the room, there were patches of spray paint, they were probably tested there.

You turn around and recall every moment of that night by keeping your bottom lip bitten. Natasha knows all the things clouding your train of thought, but she had something different planned.

She pulls a white sheet off of a motorbike you didn’t really notice was standing in the corner. Nonetheless, it is a gorgeous, matte-black one with tires wider than a usual motorcycle. The black-tainted windshield added a touch-up. You let out an uncontrollable awe at the look.

“My gosh, Nat, this is fucking awesome. It might as well be the coolest bike to ever exist.”

She smiles at your reaction, and explains, “Tony made this for me a couple of years ago. It’s designed to prevent you from falling down, but oh she rides fast, Y/N. I cannot wait for you to drive this.” She wraps her arm around you. Your cheeks are flustered at her wordplay, but you hide it from prominence.

“Quick question. If it’s made for a stable drive then why didn’t you teach me on this one? I mean, you said that I am now “ready” for this.”

“You’ll find out all about that, Y/N.” She winks at you and tosses you the keys. Her expression was easily decipherable, she was up to something cocky. You shrug your shoulders anyway and take a seat on the bike, lifting it off the stand. It’s surprisingly light for a build as heavy as it appears to be.

A few minutes later, you’re driving by on one of the emptiest yet the most romantic streets in the city. There are not many stars visible, but even the handful ones that are in sight are enough. The breeze is extremely light, and cosily cold. Both of Natasha’s arms swaddle around you. Her classic leather jacket evidently fails to give her the warmth that she feels with you. Her face is nuzzled up on your left shoulder.

Suddenly, the pleasant moment turns into an entirely different one, when you sense her sultry breath on your collarbone. Before you can speak in protest, she directs you, “Shush. Keep driving dorogoya. I am right here.”

Her cold fingers slowly glide down towards your core over your pants. Once, then twice she circles them over your needy clit. You groan lightly, as you arch your back. “Nat, we’re gonna get hurt. Let me-”

“Nuh-uh honey. This is what you get for testing my patience the other night. And now you are so needy for me, aren’t you?” You lean back into her harder and hum as a positive response. “Then use your words Y/N. Are you needy for me right now?”

“Yes. You and only you.”

“Good.” Her persistent teasing makes you hit the brakes harshly as an instinct. You park the motorcycle in an empty parking lot and hold Nat’s hand, guiding her behind a tree trunk whose sole purpose later resulted to be a mere physical support.

Your back resting on the tree, you grab her flustered face between your hands and tug her in close. When the lack of oxygen is too much, she pulls away. Sweaty palms clutching her leather jacket, you make her take it off to reveal her tank top.

You turn her around and begin planting kisses and leaving marks all over her. Natasha’s pants get heavier by the minute as you suck on her skin then soothe it, and repeat it. The redhead turns her head towards you as she unbuttons her pair of jeans. With a smug look and a twinkle in her wonderful emerald eyes, she reveals a strap larger than any that you have taken before.

Vigorously, she pins you against the tree again and unbuttons your pants, then pulls them down immediately, just enough for her to access. Before you can process the moment, the strap fills up your cunt.

On shortage of friction, you move your hips along, but Nat takes her time to pick up a pace. However, once she does, you can sense the leaves shedding due to the shaking. Her free hand covers your mouth, to keep you considerably silenced. Beads of sweat roll down her defined face, and she stares right into your eyes with a look so pure.

You anticipate your climax reaching, and your eyes widen as a result. Nat lifts her hand off your mouth and orders, “You know you have to ask for it, detka.”

And so, you barely manage to utter currently, “Please, Nat, can I come?”

As a reply, she nods lightly and thrusts inside of you harder, till you come. Soon as you release, your balance gets toppled over. Her hands come to your rescue the following second, and she places you down in the concrete ground to relax. You sit up straight with some support.

“Y/N, there’s a store right around the corner, I’ll be right back getting you a pair of new sweatpants. We’ll go home after that, okay?” Natasha asks you, handing you a bottle of water and placing a hand on your shoulder gently. “Okay.”

She helps you get changed, and you aid her with packing everything up neatly. “How are you feeling?” she asks you in a silent tone. “I- This feels wonderful. I wish you would let me return the favour, though. How are you feeling?”

“Still deeply in love with you as ever.”

She plants a kiss on your cheek and rides you back to your apartment.

— ✦ —

Upon reaching home, you grab her firmly and tell her, “You know, baby, I’m actually feeling kind of hungry right now.”

“Then wait let me get something for y-”

Tightening your grip around her, you whisper against her reddened face, “Oh, you see, I’m not really that kind of hungry.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff smut #mcu natasha romanoff #black widow

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sanguineterrain · 7 months

Note

Hi I’m back because couples who aren’t together just yet are EVERYTHING

And the new theme?? The icon?? Sanne 😍

May I request “you matter so much to me” with Dick? A little angsty if you’re feeling it?

hey there!!! thank you hehe i felt it was time for a theme change bc fall ❤️ hope you like it! thanks for sending a request 🥰

dick grayson x gn!reader. tw: reader is injured but not much description of the injury, mention of bombing, dick being a protective sweetheart, love confession.

****

You're probably being paranoid.

You probably don't need to call Dick. He'll definitely be busy right now. And you call him way too much as it is.

Wally had asked last month if you two were dating, which had been a humiliating conversation, so you've been vigilant about not clinging to Dick so much. You're just friends. That's all you'll ever be.

These two guys at the train station are really freaking you out, though. What do all the posters say? See something, say something?

You take a deep breath and dial.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dick," you say tentatively.

"Hey!" Dick says, sounding slightly breathless. "Hey, how are you? I've missed you, what have you been up to?"

The smile in his voice makes you ache. Fuck. You should've just called an Uber.

"Hey. I'm okay. Sorry for not calling, I've been, uh, swamped at work."

"That's okay. It's nice to hear from you."

You melt. "It's nice to hear from you, too."

One of the guys across the station tosses a duffel bag inside of a storage closet and closes the door, then locks it. Right. Back to why you called.

"Dick, I think these two guys at the train station might be up to something. I could be wrong! I-I'm probably wrong, but—"

"What are they doing?" he asks, and you can hear him shifting to Nightwing Mode.

"They threw a duffel bag into a closet, but they don't look like workers. And—"

One of them lifts his coat, and you see a holstered gun. Shit.

"Oh my God," you whisper. "One of them has a gun."

"Get out of there," Dick orders. "I'm on my way. I'll pick you up. Meet me on the corner of Mason and Jewel."

"Okay," you say, heartbeat rabbiting. "Okay, um, Mason and Jewel. Got it."

"It'll be okay," he says, a little gentler this time. "I won't let anything happen to you, alright? Go somewhere where there's a lot of people, and stay on the line."

You take a deep breath. "O-okay. I trust you."

You head for the stairs when the ground rumbles under your feet. People begin to shout and you run faster, trying to make it out of the station.

"What's happening, honey? Talk to me," Dick urges.

You hardly register the honey in your panic.

"The ground's shaking. Dick—"

Something knocks into your back and you crumple to the floor, phone falling from your hand. Everything goes black.

****

You open your eyes to blackness, and for a moment, you're afraid you've lost your sight. But then the shadows become clearer, and you can make out distinct, albeit dimly lit, shapes.

You try to form a word but the air has been sucked out of your lungs and it sounds more like a wheeze.

The surface beneath you is soft and firm. There's a blanket over your shoulders.

You rasp out a sound that's an attempt at 'hello.' Your lips are cracked, and your throat feels like you chugged cement.

A hand rests on your forehead. You try to sit up.

"Easy, easy. Don't try moving just yet."

Dick is in his Nightwing suit, but the mask is off. You blink at him slowly. You'd almost forgotten how blue his eyes are.

"Can you tell me your birthday?" he asks, continuing to stroke your face.

You tell him your birthday. Your throat feels like sandpaper, and a straw is pushed to your lips. You drink the water greedily.

"Wha' happ'd?" you ask.

"There was a small bomb. Half the station collapsed." Dick sucks in a deep breath and seems to steel himself. "You, um, you hit your head pretty hard. I found you and brought you back to the Batcave. I want to monitor you overnight just in case."

Your eyes widen. "Batcave?"

Dick smiles. "The one and only. I'll give you a tour later."

You frown. "Shouldn't you be out there?"

"Oh." Dick rubs his neck. "Well, uh, the others have got it pretty much covered. But I can give you space, if-if you're tired or something. Uh, Alfred's upstairs if you need anyth—"

You shake your head. "Not kicking you out, Dickie. Just don't wanna keep you from important stuff."

Dick leans in, looking at you intently.

"You're important."

You smile and look away, belly swooping at his seriousness.

"Oh. Thank you, Dick."

"I mean it," he says fiercely, then swallows. "You are... you're one of the most important people in my life. You matter so much to me. I should've said so earlier, and I guess today was the kick in the pants I needed."

You turn to him, eyes wide. "What are you saying?"

Dick slips his hand into yours, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

"Every day, I see how fragile life is," Dick says. "Witnessed it for myself, too. I can't—I don't want to pretend that I don't care about you as much as I do. That I don't wish we were more. And if you don't feel the same way, then that's okay, but I needed to say something before—"

"Dick," you murmur.

He stops. "Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

He blinks once, twice, then wastes no more time. Dick cups your jaw with both hands. It's almost overwhelming, the way Dick Grayson kisses you like you're the only person in the universe.

His hair is just as soft as you imagined, and you tangle your other hand in it, massaging the base of his neck. Dick makes a quiet whine in the back of his throat, and you hungrily swallow the sound.

"Ahem."

You flinch apart, and Dick covers his mouth. He glances at you through his lashes, and the look promises that he's not finished with you.

All excitement about said promise self-destructs when you see Batman standing ten feet away. Even under the cowl, he looks unimpressed.

"Nightwing," he says. "Taking care of our patient?"

Oh God. You're never setting foot in Gotham again.

"Excellent care," Dick says, apparently used to Batman's cheek.

"Hn. I expect a report of the station incident tomorrow."

"Of course. Do you need me out there?"

"No. It's handled." Batman looks at you. "You are welcome to join us for dinner."

He swooshes away with a truly unnecessary jump into the Batmobile. You wait until he's gone before groaning and putting your face in your hands.

"Oh my God, I just made out with you in front of Batman. I can never face him."

Dick pulls you into his arms, kissing your temple.

"Are you kidding? He basically just welcomed you into the family. I knew he'd like you."

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson fanfiction #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing fanfiction #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

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