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#while the other it actually takes place in DR
lord-squiggletits · 5 months
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I know there are as many religious good guys as there are religious bad guys in IDW, but I think I pinned down the reason why it feels like the most prominent religious figures are all bad guys and it's pretty much due to the worldbuilding.
Maybe my memory of the comics is just really bad, but the religious worldbuilding in IDW is....kind of trash honestly. I'm not sure there's a single religion or religious custom that doesn't exist solely to further the plot along. Like, it's one thing for the Camiens to worship the Primes and that causes a lot of stuff in exRID/OP, but what does that worship actually look like? What are their holidays, customs, religious texts? What about "spectralism" which basically the only thing we know about is the Festival of the Lost Light and some hippie color coding and aura shit? Like sure, there are characters who are religious and their beliefs come into play sometimes, but it honestly feels (especially in MTMTE) more like their religiousness only exists when it's relevant to the plot and it's just kinda. Disappointing eh. Lacking in worldbuilding. Plus the more religious a character is the more it's written as their entire personality and the driving force making them evil so it just kinda made me cringe to read honestly.
#squiggposting#i think there might be more 'religious moments' than i remember since it's been a hot minute since i read#but i remember during my first read/while liveblogging it was something that disappointed me#i know it's probably unfair or whatever but it still makes me cringe so hard#that the reason tyrest suddenly became a religious zealot was because he got shot with a brain altering bullet#and his religious fervor is almost literally just a product of him being brain damaged and delusional#like oooooooooooooooooooooooof it's so fucking cringe lol#i'm not sure if i'm making sense honestly. it's not so much the NUMBER of evil vs non evil religious characters#but it's more like. the more prominently religion is part of a character's personality or motivation#the odds of them just being an evil guy shoots up to almost 100%#also then there's dr/ft who's a fucking clown and 'spectralism' is just some half baked hippie shit i can't take seriously#guess my problem isn't with IDW so much as it is with JRO lol#anyways not an objective analysis i might be wrong on some counts that was just my feelings as i read#and also i just don't like it when the worldbuilding around culture only exists when it comes to plot related stuff#it really makes the world feel less lived in/realistic when it's established that there are multiple religions#but then as far as actual customs- beliefs- texts- philosophies- etc there's hardly anything#so the good guys may be religious but there's not much about what their beliefs actually entail and how they impact their daily life#and on the other hand the bad guys are screaming about how they're god's chosen all over the place
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planetamarte · 2 years
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girl its like i miss this website a little i cant lie
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danveration · 4 months
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Sleep well, amour.
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?
Word count: 2844
Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)
part two
A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)
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Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.
You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.
“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.
“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.
“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.
After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.
While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.
He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.
“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.
His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.
“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.
“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.
“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.
Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.
“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.
Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.
While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.
“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.
“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.
Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”
She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.
He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”
After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.
“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.
Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.
“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.
One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.
You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.
“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.
“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.
Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.
“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.
“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.
“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”
You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.
Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?
“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”
Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.
“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.
You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”
You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.
Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.
You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.
“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.
You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.
“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.
“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.
You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.
This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.
You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.
Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.
“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.
You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.
“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.
After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.
Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.
He walks over to you and looks down.
“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.
He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.
“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.
“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.
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daddy-dotcom · 5 months
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Bet on Me
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Spencer Reid x Sugarbaby Reader
Spencer Reid never loses, especially when the prize is you.
Summary: Reader is a sugar baby for Reid's opponent, and he bets a night with her if he loses to Reid.
Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, bj, swearing ig?
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This wasn't the first time he'd done this. Granted, the Boss only did it when he was losing a lot of money and needed to sacrifice his "lucky charm." However, this was the first time he bet me and lost, to a man half his age nonetheless. I never liked being used as a gambling chip, but he lost so rarely that I didn't dwell on it too much. The man he was playing only gave us his first name, Spencer, and damn was he good. If I didn't know any better, I would say he was counting the cards. He was slightly cocky, but not in the way that the Boss's usual opponents were. He knew he was good, but he wasn't arrogant. There was an air of confidence to him, almost as if he was guaranteed to win, which was exactly what he did. I'd never seen the Boss this upset before, practically throwing a tantrum on the casino floor. But Spencer won fair and square, more specifically, he had won me. 
Under normal circumstances, he would have bet on me as a last resort against some other equally sleazy old man. He would have won and I wouldn't have to worry about the idea of sleeping with a man who I didn't know and who had zero respect for boundaries. While the Boss wasn't exactly in his prime anymore, at least he paid me well and we had strict boundaries in place. But whenever he bet on me, I had no idea what I would be getting into. Something about Spencer being young immediately eased my nerves, especially since he was so lanky and boyish. He was probably close to my age, but you would never be able to tell because he looked like he was barely old enough to be gambling. 
"Just go on and get it over with, doll, I'll pick you up in the morning," the Boss said irritably. 
I made my way over to Spencer, who was the only one left sitting at the poker table. He sat quite awkwardly for a man who had just swept the entire table. All of the confidence from before had completely melted away. 
"Well it looks like I'm yours for the night, Spencer. I'm (Y/N) by the way." 
I leaned against the poker table, making sure to show off my best assets. If I was going to have to spend the night with him, I at least wanted to have some fun. Between my day job and being a part-time sugar baby, I didn't have the time or energy to date much. So I planned on taking full advantage of the situation. Even if I didn't end up sleeping with Spencer, there was something about him that made me want to get to know him. 
"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)" he said, and I could tell he was avoiding my gaze. This was most likely because from where he was sitting, his line of sight was directly at my boobs. 
"C'mon Spencer, let me buy you a drink."
"Shouldn't I be the one buying you a drink?" he asked, looking puzzled. 
"Looks like you need it more than I do, pretty boy." I said with a smile as I pulled him by the hand towards the bar. 
------------
"I'm not a hooker by the way. Just putting that out there . . ." I said, suddenly matching Spencer's awkwardness. 
"I figured as much," he replied before taking a sip of his drink. "You're very well dressed and your jewelry is definitely real. Which could mean you're a high-end prostitute, which isn't uncommon for Vegas, but your relationship is too close for him to just be a repeat customer. So I assumed you were either a sugar baby or a trophy wife." 
"Wow. You got all that just by watching us?"
"It's kind of my job." 
"You a PI or something? What kind of job allows you to pick up on all that Mr...?" 
"Reid. And it's Dr. Reid actually. I work in the behavioral analysis unit of the FBI."
"No kidding! You? The lanky yet mysterious card counter who hasn't looked me in the eye this entire conversation, works for the FBI?"
“Yes and for the record, I wasn’t counting the cards. . .at least not this time,” he said with the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. 
Feeling a little tipsy, I replied by saying "you know, around here that acronym FBI usually stands for Female-"
"Body Inspector, yes I'm familiar with the joke. I grew up getting my head dunked in the toilet by bullies wearing those cheap souvenir shirts from Circus Circus" 
"Ah so you're a local too?"
“Yes ma’m, Las Vegas born and raised,” he said before taking another sip of his drink. I took the opportunity to ask him another question. 
“So do you have me figured out yet, pretty boy?” 
“Well I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he said while finally looking me right in the eyes, “so that leads me to the conclusion that you are a sugar baby.” 
I could tell the effects of the alcohol were starting to creep to the surface because he wouldn’t break eye contact with me and his body began leaning towards me when he spoke instead of away. He was less guarded and almost flirtatious, in his own adorable way. 
“Ding ding ding, you got me Dr. Reid. I, uh, work as a lab assistant during the day but being his sugar baby is helping with the crushing weight of my student debt.” 
“I’m sorry that you have to spend your evenings with that jerk, (Y/N). That was mostly my motivation for accepting his offer to bet on you. I hope you know I wasn’t planning on taking advantage of you or anything, I just wanted to give you a night off from your boss.” 
My gaze softened and I tried to push away the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes. 
“That was the sweetest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time, Spencer. Thank you,” I said, gently placing a hand on his thigh. 
I saw a wave of crimson begin to appear on his cheeks and he flashed me a smile before saying, “It was my pleasure. I don’t mean to brag but I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, all of this to say I’m pretty good at cards.”
“Wow! Handsome and smart? Guess you’re not the only one who hit the jackpot tonight,” I said while raising my eyebrows, “but I don’t see a ring on your finger either, Dr. Reid. You’re alone at a bar in Vegas with a pretty girl, so I’m assuming you don’t have anyone waiting for you back home?” I asked, suddenly very interested to know if this smart and adorably sweet man was single.
“So you’ve been profiling me too,” he said with a chuckle, “to answer your question, no I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend or anything like that,” he said, almost enthusiastically. Taking that as a sign, I quickly asked, 
“Would you want to come upstairs with me? I just feel so comfortable talking to you and technically you still have the rest of the night with me,” I said with pleading eyes. 
“Um . . .sure!” he said with both hesitation and excitement, which I’m assuming is because his desire is going against his better judgment as an FBI agent. 
“You agreed to that awfully fast for someone who works for the FBI.” 
“I’m not worried. I’ve been watching my drink the entire night, and I’ve been profiling you, remember?” 
At this point, we were both beaming at each other like a couple of idiots; I had to stop myself from yanking this man’s arm making a run for the elevator. 
———
"It's nice to be with a guy who doesn't have an AARP card for once." 
"Actually, it’s a common misconception that the service is limited to people 50 and over. You can apply for a membership once you turn 18," he rambled, causing me to giggle. 
"You're cute," I replied, placing a hand on the inner part of his thigh. We stayed there for a moment, our eyes fixed on one another with a blush creeping up on Spencer's cheeks. I could see his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, and I could almost swear the crotch of his pants looked tighter than before. 
"W-we don't have to do anything you know," he said, finally breaking the silence. 
"I know. . . " I said as I leaned in close, "but what if I want to?" 
I took a chance and pressed my lips to his. I let them linger there to gauge his reaction before going any further, not wanting to scare the poor man away. After a few seconds, he didn't pull away and I took the quickened pace of his breathing as a sign to kiss him more. I began slowly at first and his lips followed my lead. To my surprise, he brought his hand up to tangle his fingers in my hair and I moaned into his mouth at the contact. Our kisses quickly became hungry and passionate, and there was no denying the now obvious bulge in his pants. I moved my hand from his thigh and began rubbing him over his pants. This time, he was the one who let out a groan, the sound of which motivated me to force my tongue into his mouth. He tightened his grip on my hair, but I pulled away to tend to his growing erection. He remained seated on the edge of the bed as I dropped to my knees in front of him. 
"Y-you don't have to-" he stuttered with wide eyes. 
"Spencer, it's okay, I want to." 
He didn't protest further and I began to unbuckle his belt. I unzipped his pants and pulled down his underwear just enough to let his cock free. I wrapped my hand around the base and began to jerk him, causing him to hiss at the contact. I teased him a little by licking the tip of his dick before I placed his entire length, or as much of him as I could fit, in my mouth. 
"Oh my god” he groaned, with his eyes screwed shut. I continued to bob my head up and down his cock, his hand finding that familiar place in my hair where he began to tug again. My. pace was purposefully slow, dragging out each suck to earn a moan from Spencer. It was thrilling to be in control of the situation for once. As I sped up my motions, his hands were practically ripping the strands from my head. The wetness pooling between my legs was becoming too much to ignore, so I released my grip on Spencer's cock and used his thighs to push myself back up from my spot on the floor. 
"Spencer. . ." I whined, planting myself onto his lap, "I need you."
I took his hand and guided him to the heat between my legs. I shimmied up my dress to allow him to feel the wetness that now soaked my panties. We both let out a gasp as his fingers became slick at the touch. 
"It's been a while since anyone's made me feel like this," I admitted. I felt safe in his presence, especially since judging by his reactions, he doesn't do this very often either. 
“I-I don’t have a-," 
“Don’t worry, I’m 90% sure we’re both clean and I’m on the pill. Trust me I’m not trying to scam you for child support or anything.” 
I could feel his body relax underneath me after reassuring him. I pressed my lips to his once again, our kiss more sensual and intimate than before. Seizing the rare opportunity to be on top, I had one hand on his shoulder for support and the other on his dick to line him up with my entrance. It was almost dizzying how good it felt as I finally sank down onto his length. 
“Oh god, Spencer.” 
I buried my face into the crook of his neck, completely overwhelmed by the few of him stretching me out. Once I was comfortable, I slowly began rocking my hips. We were a mess of breathy moans and strings of profanities escaped my lips as I began bouncing on his cock. 
“Fuck Spence, you you’re so big.” 
It’s always the skinny, shy guys.
“(Y/N) you feel so good,” he grunted as he bucked his hips up in an attempt to fuck me even harder. After observing his reactions to my every move so far, I knew he wasn’t going to last long. But he was fucking me so good that I couldn’t bring myself to care. 
“Yes baby keep fucking me like that.” 
His hips continued with their relentless pace and our bodies slammed against each other again and again. It wasn’t much longer until his thrusts became sloppy and he finished inside of me with one last resounding groan. We stayed that way for a while, just grateful for the intimate connection. Once we finally caught our breath, I spoke up.
“Well you still have a few hours with me Dr. Reid, what do you propose we do?” I said with a smirk.
“We should probably go to bed, I have to catch my flight back to D.C. in the morning. . . but maybe after we do that again.” 
“I’m all yours Spencer.” 
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Not 100% confident about this one but lmk what y'all think :) thanks fro all the love so far besties
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brucewaynehater101 · 16 days
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i just got an idea 🤩 Tim Drake is a villain, but he's like Dr. Doofenshmirtz!
Batman: *caught in a Batman-sized trap*
Tim: Ah, Bruce Wayne the Batman! About time you arrived! Look at what I have created!
Tim: *shows his skateboard contraption* TAH-DAH! I call this "The Red-Board 3000!" It took me 3000 tries to finally create a successful one. It runs on Joker Gas, and goes about as fast as Mach 4!
Bruce: Hrn.
Tim: Tsk-tsk-tsk, Bruce Wayne the Batman. You must be wondering why I made this. Well, it all started when I was 5 years old. My parents left me alone in a jungle and forgot about me.
DO YOU SEE MY VISION?!?!?
I do!!!!!
Might I add:
Tim becomes a villain because someone told him he needed therapy. He didn't really like that idea until he saw the Riddler monologuing to Batman about his bullies. That, unfortunately for everyone else, inspired Tim.
Sitting down and talking to a stranger who is also required to report child abuse? Nah. His parents aren't great, but he likes the freedom and doesn't want to end up in Gotham's CPS.
So, Tim "goes to therapy" every other week, or traps ones of the Bats and vents about his life to them. It's perfect for him.
He spends about a week setting up his schemes, outfits, lighting, and therapy plan. Then, he lures one of the Bats into the designated place. His favorite is Batman.
He loves watching their faces constantly switch between annoyed and concerned. Tim, who has a secret villain identity, is obviously a child. He's spouting true (but untraceable) facts about his life that are concerning as fuck. Bruce is going out of his mind trying to capture Tim to get him some real help.
The one aspect Tim always ensures he has is the ability to get away. He'll give the Bats a way to foil his plots and disappear while they do so.
So, Tim enjoys coming up with very real but ridiculous ways to destroy/take over the world and threatening the Bats with it. Could Tim actually succeed as a villain? Yes. However, that would make him a higher priority to capture. That's also not the reason he's does any of it either.
Now... does he get along with Riddler? Debatable. On one hand, they both have traps and stuff. They could bond and help each other (or test each other). On the other hand, Riddler might see Tim as competition or that Tim is making fun of him.
Catwoman likes Tim, though.
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torialefay · 9 days
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"Regardless of That Fucking Assignment..." 📝
professor!seungmin x fem!student!reader smut 🔞
✨ synopsis: you tried to be professional after being selected for a position under the hottest professor on your univeristy’s campus. turns out, the professor doesn’t give a fuck about “professional.”
✨ warnings: this piece, although consensual, does revolve around a morally grey area. this is strictly fictional work, and should only be considered as such. contains a lot of roleplaying that is not appropriate for everyday life. I do not condone any acts that are represented in this fic. this is strictly fictional work, and should only be considered as such. ; unprotected sex, semi-public sex, slight breath play
Dr. Kim was easily the hottest professor at your university. Young, handsome, and intelligent were the perfect recipe for quickly becoming your favorite classes to go to.
Thankful that he actually taught courses for your major, people outside of it would still sign up just to see him. Well, more like fawn over him, in hopes that he would somehow notice and fall for them, like the clichés they’d seen in movies. It was a bit annoying, considering you’d have to make sure to register early for his classes, but you didn’t mind as long as you got your spot. It made your performance in his class look better in comparison at least.
You’d always performed well in his classes, but you always felt a bit behind. You’d considered asking for his opinion on who would be best to go to for tutoring, but you didn’t want to get flustered in front of him. You surely didn’t want him to think you were struggling in his classes because it was hard to pay attention to anything but him… But ultimately, that was the truth.
Which is why you were very surprised one day to receive an email saying that you’d been selected for the fellowship you applied for… with Dr. Kim as the head.
“Hello, Dr. Kim,” you said nervously after knocking and peaking your head into his office.
He was relaxed, seated behind his large mahogany desk with a plaque on the front ordained with the inscription “Dr. Kim Seungmin.” He’d had a pen in one hand while holding his chin with the other, lost in thought.
“Ahh, y/n. Come on in and take a seat,” he smiled, lifting his head out of his hands and gingerly resting the pen onto the paper underneath it.
You shyly opened the door wider in front of you, just enough so that you could glide through and carefully close it.
Afterwards, you smoothed your skirt down around your thighs and crossed the short space of the room before seating yourself in one of the nice, leather-backed chairs that he had placed neatly in front of his desk.
“I’m glad you could meet with me on such short notice,” he said warmly, looking you in the eyes.
You couldn’t help but blush a little. Even if you’d had around a hundred lectures with him under your belt, it was nothing like the one-on-one conversation you were having now. Butterflies crept up into your stomach that you quickly tried to shoot back down. If you were going to work with this man on a fellowship project for the next year, you were going to have to learn to set those feelings aside… starting now.
“Yes, of course,” you said formally. “I’m very thankful and excited that I was chosen for this position. It really does mean a lot to me, so thank you for giving me this opportunity,” you smiled back, hiding any nerves that you may have had.
Dr. Kim chuckled a bit. “No need to thank me. You’re a great student. I’m always happy to see your work. You have a lot of great ideas, you know? I don’t say that many students challenge me to think about things in a different way, but you’re… different. Very different,” he smirked.
You automatically felt your face flush. ‘Surely this will get easier with time,’ you reassured yourself, taking a deep breath as nonchalantly as possible.
“Oh really?” you began, calming your voice. “I do get worried sometimes that maybe people could find my work a bit… unconventional?” you raised an eyebrow, trying not to falter.
“Good thing I’ve never been the conventional type,” he winked as he smiled, looking down directly after to grab the paper sitting next to him.
‘Did he? Did he just?…’ your mind began running. ‘Surely he didn’t mean it like… No, there’s no way. That’s just his personality. He’s witty. Of course he’d play around like that. He’s just cool, calm down.’ You tried your best not to let your internal freak out show on your exterior.
“So,” he started, looking back up to you, “give me your ideas. Obviously on your application, you threw out quite a few interesting ones. As long as I agree, we can work on whatever you’d like this year.”
“Hmm, well…” you began before running through your list of ideas with him. You had one proposal that you’d been fixated on, but it would require a lot of effort and attention, and you weren’t sure about the logistics of it working out. It would required a lot of time from the professor as well, so you’d almost nixed it altogether. Something about it just kept coming back though, you you figured you’d at least mention it along with the plethora of other ideas that had been rattling around.
“Woah, woah- stop right there,” Dr. Kim put his hands out, preventing you from continuing on to another point. “That’s really good,” he nodded his head. “I’ve read up on so much, paper after paper. But no one’s ever done that before.” He sucked in his cheeks as he continued to lightly nod and fixate his eyes off into the distance. “That’s smart… that’s really really smart.” He smiled, bringing his eyes back to yours now. “I knew I chose the right one. You're really impressive."
"Ohh no," you said, blushing with a smile as you waved your hand in disagreeance.
"What, you don't think so?" He teased, leaned back in his seat. "Why's that?"
"I'm just really interested in it is all. It's not that I'm special."
"Ahh," he nodded, understanding. "Well, I disagree. I noticed you the very first class. I even remember what you were wearing."
The sudden comment had you taken aback. "Really?" you asked, wide-eyed.
"Of course. You're quite memorable."
Your heart kept speeding up in your chest. 'Calm down. Calm down.'
"Come on, Dr. Kim, you don't need to say all that," you tried to play it off. "I appreciate building my confidence up, but I will always try to work harder," you finished with a solid nod.
He stilled for a moment as if contemplating his words. "Oh really? Work harder?"
“Well… of course?” your voice carried up, confused on why that was such a notable statement. “I could always be doing better in your class.”
Dr. Kim nodded. “Mmm, I guess that’s true. Tell me, y/n, whose class is your favorite? You can be honest with me. I’m just curious to know.” He cocked a brow.
“Hmm…” your eyes darted up as you began to think. “I’m not saying this to be facetious, but I really *do enjoy coming to your lectures. Dr. Pramal’s lectures have been very good recently as well.
He giggled. “Dr. Pramal? Come onnn, he basically wear a toupee. My classes have to be at least a little more fun than his.”
“I don’t know,” you smiled, “He tells a lot of dad jokes. He may give you a run for your money.” You raised your brows are his daringly.
“Ahh, okay. Dad jokes. I’ll have to remember that. That’ll get me some brownie points then huh?”
“It just might,” you shrugged. “I think the class would really enjoy it.”
A smug smirk came over his face. “I didn’t mean brownie points with the class. I meant brownie points with you.”
“Ohh,” you blushed, looking down. There was no way, you thought, that he meant the words the way that they were coming across. But it did fluster you anyways. “But I guess… haha yeah, I guess maybe that’d put you ahead of Dr. Pramal… maybe.”
Lighthearted. This was the way to go, you thought.
“Playing hard to get… I see how it is,” he grinned ear to ear.
“Hey, we’ve gotta see how good those jokes are first!”
“Alright, fair enough. I’ll get some good ones prepared for next time. Just for you.”
At that moment, there was no denying it anymore. There was no way, unless he was absolutely toying with you, that he’d be making all of these advances without realizing. You were sure he knew that almost every person was crushing on him, so you weren’t sure if he was just trying to play around, but either way, you knew that if you had been standing, your knees would have already buckled and given in. There was no going back now.
“Well,” you began, “since I shared my opinion, I think it’s only fair for you to tell me which classes are your favorites to teach?” You felt bolder now. More confident.
“Hmm… I wouldn’t say that I have any one favorite. They all have their pros and cons… but right now,” he tapped his pen on the table, “maybe I prefer the ones that you’re in. It always makes my day a bit better, but the classes go by so quickly.”
“So you decided giving me this position would be a good solution?” You giggled, leaning into the fantasy unfolding in front you.
“Absolutely not,” he stood with a smirk, gingerly beginning to walk behind where you were seated. “Excuse the language, but you’re fucking brilliant. It’s why I was so drawn to you... Having you on was a unanimous decision by the board.” He leaned down behind you until he was hovering just next to your ear. “But this…” he breathed out. “This is just a bonus.”
He took one hand to gently brush your hair over the opposite shoulder, making sure the area beneath him was open and exposed. He slowly let his fingers trail along your back until they rested on your shoulder, only for a split second, before sneaking lightly to trace along the lines of your collar bone. You could hear deep breaths coming from his throat.
“Tell me you don’t want it, and I’ll stop…” he whispered lowly.
Your head clouded. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine any of this. You wanted this, didn’t you? Yes, you wanted this.
But how would it affect your future? What if someone found out?
His hot breath hitting your ear drowned out any hesitancy you could have had. ‘Fuck it.’
“Don’t stop,” you whispered back, feeling shy, but excitement leaking out of you nonetheless.
He slowly let his lips find their way to your shoulder, planting the lightest kiss you’d ever felt, as if he was testing out the waters. As you began to get chills, he slowly began trailing kisses across your collarbone and to your neck, taking time there so gently suck. Nothing too crazy. Nothing too harsh. He wanted no evidence left behind. No emotions involved.
And that is exactly what you believed. Before he leaned in to kiss you.
His arm reached to rotate your shoulders towards him as he brought his lips to yours. The passion he poured in was immaculate. Like he’d been hungry for weeks. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth, asking permission to go even deeper.
Without breaking the kiss, the walked around to the front of the chair, holding your head steady for him the entire way. Once he reached his destination, you let his tongue find its way into your mouth. He started with light circles around your own until he was quickly moaning into you. The desperate sounds leaving his mouth had you echoing, making you squirm even more.
You could feel yourself growing more and more wet with each second. Swallowing in every last moment, you basked in the bliss of it all, but you couldn’t help but to want more.
He smiled as he realized how worked up you were getting. Resting one hand on your cheek and the other around to the small of your back, he guided you up until you were standing.
He slowly waltzed you around, never breaking the contact with your mouth. As the moans grew heavier and heavier, you slowly began to push yourself up and onto his leg, needing any sort of friction possible.
He took that as his cue to extend his thigh out for you, running his hands down to hold your ass before rubbing it harshly.
You winced at the new pressure as you slowly began to push yourself up and down on his thigh, losing your breath at how good it felt.
The scene in front of him was quickly getting too much to handle. You knew from the growing hard on that you felt each time your leg hiked higher.
As he groaned loudly, he pulled his lips from yours and yanked your body into his, separating any centimeter of space that could have existed.
You let out a low whine in response as his lips went back to your neck, nibbling away as you fucked yourself onto him. His fingers burrowed into your hair as he went, encouraging you to go faster.
You reveled in the way your clit was engorged now, making sure to hit just high enough with every thrust. And as he began to pant more heavily, Dr. Kim moved his thigh up and down for you, adding to the intensity that you felt.
“Oh fuckkkk,” you let out when things were getting too much to bear.
The sweet sounds coming out of you were too much for him. Abruptly, he pulled his lips from your neck, taking hold of your head to bring it eye level with his. He stared into you like he now owned you. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Promise me,” he demanded, rutting his leg up into you, forcing you to take it as he watched..
“I promise,” you breathed out, grappling to his chest as your eyes rolled back, about to reach your high.
“Feels that good?” He chuckled, planting a harsh smack to your ass.
“Oh fuck,” you winced, loving the roughness he was giving you. Your face flew into his chest. “It feels so fucking good. Harder… please.”
“Harder?” His voice was raised now.
In any normal situation, you would have been worried that someone would hear. But in this moment, you couldn’t have given a fuck if you tried.
Another smack left you dripping through your panties. “Fu-u-u-ck,” you cried. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You held onto him tightly as the knot in your stomach formed. “Keep going, keep going,” you whimpered out, chasing your release.
You heard him grunt as he began thrusting harshly, as quickly as he could, into your cunt. Although you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was enjoying every last second.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” you let out lowly as your clit throbbed in just the right way. The warmth got to be too much. The thrusts were too much, and suddenly, you lost it.
Flailing out all over him, you tried your best to cling on and ride out your high. The sexual tension that had been pent up for so long had finally spilled out- hard. You began shaking and crying out into him, not caring if you were too loud now or if anyone heard.
Once it was beginning to be too much, you pulled off, shaking and pushing him back. You were sure you couldn’t take one more second without passing out.
He took the opportunity of being separated from you to make the few strides toward his door to lock it. You couldn’t believe that you’d completely disregarded that once you’d been caught up in the moment.
Catching your breath, you turned around to grip onto his desk, holding yourself up with your arms. You were able to get a few deep breaths in until the professor returned behind you, pulling your ass toward him.
“Fuck,” he smiled, gripping your hips and squeezing, letting your ass push against his clothed dick. “That was so fucking beautiful.”
All you could do was moan in response, rolling your hips around. Although your heart had had a few seconds to calm down, you could feel it speeding right back up.
As he massaged you with his hands, he continued letting his thoughts turn into words. “Now I want to know how beautiful you’d look on my dick. Getting fucked right into this desk. Will you let me?” His hands ran up and down between your hips and your ass, rubbing you lightly. Almost as if he was… cherishing you?
“Mmhmm,” was all you could get out, still trying to fully recover.
“I need to hear you say it,” he barked back. “I need to hear you say yes. Say that you want this.”
“Yes, Dr. Kim,” you breathed out as harshly as you could, your response landing you another smack on the ass as he brought his hand to the back of your head to push it onto the desk and have you perfectly bent over for him.
He wasted no time, undoing his belt and letting his trousers fall to the ground, quickly pulling his cock out from his boxers to let it spring up and hit him.
He hastily threw the bottom of your skirt over your ass to reveal your panties underneath, completely soaked in the middle from the time you’d just had.
“Goddamn,” he chuckled. “All of this for me?” He rubbed his thumb up and down your slit, causing you to wince, before ripping your panties to the side. It caused them to partially rip, not that you minded. “Even prettier than I could have imagined,” he said, licking his lips and staring down at your pussy. “Fuck.”
He took one hand from you long enough to spit in it and bring it down to stroke his hardened cock. He moaned the slightest bit, touching himself while thinking of what was to come.
Using one hand to hold you down and the other to steady as he lined himself up at your entrance, he pushed in slowly, letting himself enjoy the feeling of your pussy stretching around him. He savored every last centimeter that he could get inside of you before bottoming out. A large breath escaped his lungs as he tried to stabilize himself. It was all too much of a sight to behold.
Pushing you into the table harder, he inched his way out before thrusting back in, trying to warm you up to him.
You couldn’t deny how delicious it felt. He was bigger than you were used to, and the way he had you pressed down was taking your breath away. You tingled head to toe from the sensation. It was better than anything you could have dreamed up in class- a few thrusts of his dick inside of you, and you could already confirm.
He picked up his speed inside of you as you let out a whimper, already feeling like you’d taken much more than he could give.
He railed into you relentlessly, letting out gutteral grunts and moans with each snap of his hips into yours. The sounds of it were lewd, but it only added to how you felt.
“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he growled lowly, trying to focus enough so that he wouldn’t cum right away. “You’re taking it so fucking well.” He moved a hand up to your hair to form a pony tail that he could pull back on. “Don’t you think so?” he yelled, pulling your hair slightly back.
Surprised, you yelped, which only turned him on more. “Yes, Dr. Kim,” you managed to get out between shallow breaths. You didn’t know how much more you could take.
“You like it when your professor fucks you, don’t you? You always wanted to be used by me, huh?” he teased, thrusting into you even faster, tighter hold on your hair.
“Yes- yes, I love it,” you strained.
Something in him must have ticked because before you could process what was happening, you had been pulled up by your hair so that your back was arched, torso now fully upright. The professor now had a hold on your hair, but all the way around your waist as well to hold you up.
You felt yourself choke on your own throat from how far back your head had been tilted. The iron grab you felt from him behind you hinted that this would be something you’d have to get used to. He chuckled as you gasped for air, beginning to pound into you harder.
He admired the way you looked for him. Perfect ass slapping against him at every thrust. Your body contorted in the most unnatural shape, just because he willed it. Your face red from the blood rushing around. So perfectly behaved for him. Letting him do whatever he wanted. So willing to give it all up. He couldn’t fucking stand it anymore.
Relentlessly he growled, fucking into you harder than he had before. He could feel the sweat seeping from his brow, but it didn’t hinder him. All that mattered in this moment was using you until he couldn’t stand anymore. Each thrust into your tight pussy brought him closer and closer.
It was the hardest you’d ever been fucked. You were past the point of return. After moaning harder than you’d ever thought possible, you were officially fucked out. He kept hitting the same perfect spot over and over until all you could do was cry out and gasp for air. No thoughts anymore, just needing that second wave of relief. You clenched around him as you tried for a deep breath, quickly working your way there.
“Ahh shit,” he hissed as he felt you- pure, unadulterated, untamable lust now clouded his eyes. Something different had come over him now. He was no longer your professor. No. Now… his one purpose in life was to fuck you senseless.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this?” he spat at you, yanking your head back even harder so he could get a clear look into those pretty eyes while he rammed into you. “How many times I’ve wanted to stop in the middle of class to just bend you over and take you?! I’ve contemplated so many times if I should hold you back after class so I could talk to you. Get you to put those pretty lips on mine, ah?” He was aggressive, almost yelling out of his mind through gritted teeth. "I’ve wanted you from the very first day I fucking saw you. Last year. An entire fucking year of acting good,” a harsh pound into you, “and acting professional,” pound, “around you," pound. "But goddamn it, I just can’t do it anymore! You drive me fucking crazy, y/n! You drive me so fucking crazy!” He yelled forcefully, quickly releasing his grip on you so that you fell forward onto the table.
Your lungs sucked in as much air as possible as you had a momentary sense of relief. But within a few seconds, Dr. Kim was reaching with his hand to rotate your head around to the side, right next to his own as he’d bent himself over your body, still fucking into you with all the strength he had.
“I’ve got to fucking have you,” his voice rumbled lowly, looking into your eyes. The words alone made your pussy quiver.
'Fuck. There's no fucking way. Does he mean?...' You were sure you were going to cum any second.
“Tell me I can have you… Fucking hell, tell me I can have you,” he growled, watching you desperately. Hungrily.
You closed your eyes as they slightly rolled back in your head. “Yes… Fuckkk, yes, you can have me,” you moaned out as his thrusts became too much for you to handle.
He violently crashed his lips into yours as if he’d been starving for them this whole time- like he'd been saving his appetite for this very moment. He ate at you like you were the most delicious thing he would ever taste.
And with the perfect thrust, you felt it. The feeling that had been creeping up for so long, exploded now, leaving you in complete shambles. Cursing, moaning, throwing yourself all around, you just couldn’t control yourself any more. You tried pulling yourself back, but his mouth kept you anchored to him, resulting in you throwing all of your groans into his mouth.
You didn’t know how it couldn’t be over, but he growled as he finished fucking into you, the wet sounds of your release only adding to his pleasure. You were getting overstimulated to the point that you were sure you were going to cry.
“Ahhh,” you wailed, not able to handle it any more.
“Oh fuck, baby, fuck!” he yelled, throwing a few final, violent, thrusts into you before pulling out. He continued to moan harshly as he pumped himself in his hand, letting his cum spurt out all over your ass, covering it almost completely. He stroked it until there wasn’t a single drop left inside of him.
'Baby?' you thought, contemplating if you'd misheard him.
Once he was sure he was finished, he breathed in and out deeply, trying to catch his breath while grabbing for a few tissues on his desk. He used them to lightly clean you up while you too were still bent over, struggling to get your breath back.
As soon as you heard his pants come up and zip, you were sure he was done. You slowly used your hands to push yourself up and off the table. Your muscles twitched as you went, absolutely exhausted. You didn’t know if you’d even be able to stand on your own, let alone make it back to the dorm.
You were slow as you turned, flattening your skirt down and trying to get your footing, but failing.
“Woah, woah, take it easy,” Dr. Kim smiled happily, knowing he was the one that had done this to you. He reached his hands out for you to hold so that you could get your balance.
“Yeah, thanks,” you said, blushing while nodding downward to acknowledge his help.
You both stood for a moment, absorbing the scenery and what had actually just happened. You almost couldn’t believe it.
As if it finally registered, you were suddenly uncertain of what to do next. You ran a hand through your hair before crossing your arms over your chest. You wanted to act like you weren’t nervous, but you knew that you were failing miserably.
“Well, I should probably head out then,” you tried to play off as light-hearted, moving your body out of his way and toward the door. You couldn’t believe you were about to have to do the walk of shame… at fucking school.
“You don’t have to-” Dr. Kim started, almost too eagerly, “you don’t have to go…” he calmed himself. “If you don’t want to. If you need time to, umm.” You’d never seen him be at a loss for words like this. “Get collected and everything.”
His eyes were softer than you’d remembered. For once, he didn’t look intimidating. He looked almost… sweet?
But none of that changed the fact that you had just fucked your professor and needed to go clear your head.
“Oh,” you smiled, trying to look grateful. “I appreciate it, but I think I’m alright. I should probably go finish up on an assignment I’ve been working on for your class actually. But really, thank you,” you said, bowing your head in gratitude, about to reach for the door handle.
“Wait,” he insisted, moving closer to you. “I just wanted to say that I really did mean all the things I said about you. Regardless of whatever this was, you are so fucking brilliant. I don’t want you to think that this is why I wanted you for the position. I hope that you’ll stay on… and that we can actually work together.” You thought you could make out a plea in his tone.
“Of course I’ll stay on, Dr. Kim. I’m excited to work with you,” you smiled, realizing now that you had some kind of upper hand.
He smiled back as he took a few steps backward, letting you turn to reach for the door once more.
“Please, call me Seungmin… Except in class of course,” he winked with a chuckle as he moseyed back behind his desk.
“Alright then, Seungmin,” you annunciated teasingly, smiling at him with big, innocent eyes. “I need to get to work on that assignment, but I’ll email you later so we can find a meeting time that works for us both?"
Seungmin just rolled his eyes with an annoyed grin. “You’re getting an A, regardless of that fucking assignment. And please... just give me your number instead.”
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greenglowinspooks · 7 months
Text
(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)
Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)
(Masterlist here)
Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.
Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.
And so, that led Dr. Crane here.
He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.
(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)
Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.
Danny needed ectoplasm.
Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.
The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.
Dr. Crane is not afraid.
He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.
(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)
Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.
(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)
He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.
The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.
As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.
He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.
Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.
He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.
Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.
Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.
Right.
Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.
Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.
The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.
Hopefully this time he got the timing right.
Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.
He thinks of the letter.
Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.
Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.
Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.
Scarecrow did what he had to.
He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.
However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.
Jonathan is no longer shaking.
He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.
With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.
Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.
When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.
Success.
Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.
And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.
At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.
Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.
He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.
“Is that..?”
“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”
Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.
Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.
Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?
And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.
“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”
“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?
The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.
Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.
Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.
Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.
He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.
It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.
And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.
“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”
Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.
Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.
“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.
“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”
Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.
“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.
“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”
“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”
Edward gasps dramatically.
“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”
“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”
“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”
“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”
Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.
“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”
“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”
“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”
Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.
“Eddie.”
Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.
“A heart!”
“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”
“Eddie, stop.”
“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”
“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.
“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”
“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”
“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”
“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.
Danny’s jaw drops.
“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.
“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”
“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”
Danny chokes on air.
“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”
Edward pales.
“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.
“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”
With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.
And, as per usual, that silence does not last.
“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”
Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.
“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”
“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”
Jonathan groans.
“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”
“Come on, please?”
“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.
This boy is going to be the death of him.
“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”
Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.
The rest of the day is relatively normal.
Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.
It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.
Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.
Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.
The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.
He sends a quick message to Red Hood.
Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.
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spacedace · 1 year
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So I've seen a lot of "Jazz works as a therapist at Arkam" in the dp x dc fandom, and while I like the concept, I also feel like Jazz would take one look at the place and immediately be like "what the absolute fuck" at just the everything of the place.
Like, she either nopes out after the tour during the interview or quits not too long afterward starting there, not because she can't take it but because she's so appalled by what's going on there and can smell the corruption rolling off the place and knows no one sent to there is ever actually going to get the help they need.
So Jazz decides to open a private practice instead while still being absolutely determined to work with the various rogues in the city, she is here to help and nothing is going to stop her.
So she just starts showing up at known hangouts of rogues and during their heists/schemes/sprees, and even fights between them and the batfam, just like
"Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! My name is Dr. Jasmine Fenton/Nightingale/whatever last name she’s using and I was hoping we could talk!"
Casually kicks a baterang away without looking because she's being polite and professional!
"I understand that your experience with therapy through Arkam has been nothing but atrocious and that you are rightfully -"
Kicks Batman away without breaking eye contact or a sweat.
"Suspicious of attempting therapy again, and Idon't want to force anything on you, therapy should be on your terms after the experiences you've had but -"
Grabs Robin out of the air as he leaps at the rogue she's talking to and tucks him under her arm, ignoring his feral hissing and all attempts to break her hold.
"-I really think that you'd find it beneficial, even if I'm not the right therapist for you."
The rogue in question is having the time of their life and takes Jazz's business card - and a few extra to pass around - not really intending to actually ever book a therapy appointment with her but way too entertained and excited to share this madness with everyone else.
But then one of the rogues actually looks up Jazz's website and sees all the various safe guards she’s put in place to ensure that any villians that come to her will be protected while seeing her - soundproof therapy room, regular sweeps for listening and tracking devices, the most insane firewalls and protections anyone has ever seen on her network, and ooh she provides snacks and drinks!
So someone finally books an appointment with her, half convinced she's either going to turn them in or is a villain herself intent to experiment on them, but then it’s actually really nice??? And they feel a lot better afterwards?? She doesn't even say anything to indicate that she wants them to stop being villains, she just wants them to be okay??
So more and more rogues start going to her, and Batman was already losing his mind about this woman before - Oracle can't hack her system?!? And her background check shows a totally normal Psychiatrist?? - but now half of Gotham's heavy hitters and a dozen or so other minor league villains are seeing her regularly and every time he tries to get info on any plans the rogues might be scheme via her office it fails utterly. Nightwing got knocked out with something called a creep stick and when he tried to break in himself to get answers she just appeared out of no where and gave him the most scathing lecture about doctor-patient confidentiality before bullying him off her property and threatening to sick her brother on him if he tried again?
And because she's become such a figure in the Gotham underworld, she gets the attention of Joker.
And everyone, rogues and Bats alike, are terrified that she’s going to try and take him on as a patient like she has so many other villains in the city and that's just a recipe for tragedy.
But then the Joker is on his way to the hospital with two broken legs and the fear of god beat into him babbling about eldritch nightmares and whenever anyone asks Jazz what happened she just shrugs and just says things like "I refused him as a patient, he's not my problem." Or "My brother doesn't like clowns." And just, does not elaborate.
Batman is losing his mind over it all. Jazz is just happy to be able to actually help the rogues. Arkam is less happy about how she absolutely destroys their reputation.
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c00kieguy · 1 month
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Thigh Pillow
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relationships: Dr. Ratio x GN!Reader summary: You read the title, you saw the header, we both know where this is going cw: just fluff and humor a/n: wrote this after that one Ratio thigh jiggle post, very rushed wc: ~700 masterlist
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"I have a headache." 
Ratio peeks at you from behind his stone tablet, a pair of red eyes stare back at your own, his face filled with worry. You weren't usually one to blatantly say such things, so when the scholar sees you here staring at him instead of getting up to do something about the headache yourself, he assumes it must mean you're in a lot of pain.
"Do you want me to brew you some tea?" He offers. Lowering his book he scans your face for any other signs of discomfort. If it was a fever he'd have to start dealing with it immediately lest it develop into something much worse later on. Your behavior was certainly unusual however, despite supposedly being in pain you're just there, staring at him expectantly, as if you wanted a treat...
"No, that's fine, I could use a nap though." Ratio starts to suspect this might be one of your pranks. It certainly had to be, from the way you never took your eyes off of him to the uneasy tapping of your feet, you were definitely hiding something. Either way he didn't feel like entertaining you so he goes back to his book, thinking you'd head back to your own room to slumber. But when you don't take your eyes off of him even then he gives you a questioning look.
"Oh, here?" Assuming you plan to sleep on the couch he prepares to get up. "I'll leave you to it then."
"No wait!" You frantically reach out to him as he gets up. "You can stay." 
"There'll certainly be more room on this couch without me." He huffs out. Ratio was starting to get annoyed now. He hated the way you keep trying to imply something but never actually tell him directly. Would it kill you to be more upfront with your words? It's not like he could read your mind.
"But then I'll miss you." You give him a fake pout. The man lets out an exasperated sigh and plops back down on the cushion, making sure to stick as close to the arm rest as possible so you have more room to sleep. If you wanted to sleep in the comfort of his presence all you had to do was ask. He's just glad he managed to figure you out quickly.
"Go ahead, I'll wake you up in a few hours." He absentmindedly says while opening his stone tablet again. Finally, some peace and quiet.
"I could use a pillow." He slams it shut. You were really starting to test his patience.
"Here." He grumbles as he pulls out the pillow from his back and tosses it to you. "Would that be all?" 
"I want a blue pillow..." Now he's just lost, why did it matter to you what color the pillow was? Why blue in particular? Was it some sort of superstition you believed in? Did it-
He notices the way your eyes trail down his body. Following your line of sight his eyes land on his legs, or perhaps his thighs-
Oh, thighs, the same ones covered in blue fabric, his pants. Of course. What other reason would you have to go through such lengths? His expression softens a little at the realization you just wanted to lay on his lap.
"You..." He grumbles as he massages his temple. To think the whole fiasco was just for this? Unbelievable. Letting out his nth sigh of the day he regains his composure and pats his thigh. "Come on, lie down then." He finds it amusing how your eyes immediately light up. Shuffling over you drop your head on his lap, the softness of it instantly improving your mood. You truly loved this feeling, there was no better place you could think of to doze off at. 
"Next time, don't bother beating around the bush. Use your words properly. Understood?" You hum in response. There really was something magical about him since you found your eyelids feeling heavy already. Ratio gently brushes aside a few strands of hair to get a better look at your blissful face, he had to admit he liked this side of you. Although he didn't appreciate it too much being left in the dark and guessing, seeing you in this state, so fully open and vulnerable with him, made it all a little more worth it.
"Rest well."
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masterlist
© c00kieguy ➼ do not repost/copy/translate (without my permission) or claim any of my works as your own. Reblogs are appreciated ❣
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miguelhugger2099 · 3 months
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Power of the Sun
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Summary: You're Doc O'Hara's assistant A/N: tentacle pron? Art: vencipality on twt
Miguel x Reader, No warnings, a little violent/screaming, Angst?, Word Count: 3,004
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Miguel was a man of science. He took pride in his work but was always humble about it. He was a kind mentor, encouraging young brilliant minds to pursue their passion in science and math, connecting with his peers and exchanging ideas to enrich and evolve humankind for the greater good. Knowledge is not a privilege, it’s a gift, he would say. Like any other one of his colleagues and apprentices, you admired him and his work. You followed him around as his assistant and confidant. Miguel trusted you after many years and you had fallen in love with him after many years. For a while, it had remained one-sided. A love you kept to yourself and didn’t believe that a man so brilliant as him would ever fall for someone like his subordinate. He deserved someone equally as knowledgeable–capable of keeping up with him. “Dr. O’Hara, I’ve printed all the documents of the latest experimentation process as well as sending a copy to Osborn.” You walked in his vast lab, heels clicking with each step against the marbled floor. Miguel was all the way in the back, only a dim fluorescent light highlighting him and whatever he was working on. His face was scrunched together as he focused on the task at hand. However when he heard your voice, he looked over his shoulder and his scowl melted. He called out your name gently, now a small smile on his face. He joined you in the middle, hands out as he collected the papers from your hands. He briefly flipped through the pages, scanning with his eyes before looking back up at you. He patted the front pages with the back of his hand and nudged his glasses up further his nose. “What would I do without you?” You flush, scoffing and looking to the side before reverting back to him. “You’d be fine, Dr.O’Hara.” You shake your head and swerve around him to take a look at whatever he was working on.
Miguel turns. “I beg to differ. For years, you’ve been a great asset at my side.” You hum. “And for years, you keep telling me that. But really, Doctor, it’s you who does the actual revolutionary actions.” He meets you at your side once he’s placed the papers securely somewhere. “Miguel.” He corrects you. “We’ve been together all this time. You know what else I keep telling you? That honorifics is unnecessary. Call me Miguel.” You clear your throat. “Okay, Miguel.” No matter how many times he reminded you, you would always say his name before reverting back to calling him Doctor. Perhaps habits are hard to break. “How’s it coming along?” You turn your head to see what he had been working on for a long time now. Miguel brightened up, standing straight and walking around the device. Four long green mechanical tentacles held up on their own all attached to a long spinal machine. He grazed his hands over the tentacles, admiring his own work. “We’re close, darling. It just needs some testing.” “Well if you’d like I could set up a volunteering headline for–” “No, no, no!” He stopped you by shaking his head and hands. “No, I–we can’t let this get out to the public yet. This is for the expo next month where Osborn will be. Perhaps he can finally understand why I’m doing this…” He mumbles to himself. You’re taken aback by his outburst but you rationalize it by thinking how exhausted he might be. Ever since Norman Osborn had disregarded Miguel’s research, Miguel had been working on crunch time to prove the CEO wrong. “Then how will you test it?” Your hand comes up to hold a claw from one of the tentacles. You examine the carbon fiber skeleton that Miguel used, trying to find the details of the prosthetic. Miguel admires you from the side, his eyes longing and far as he watches.
“I’ll–” He sighs. “I’ll think of…someone.” He murmurs. He feels an ache in his chest and looks back at his invention. The green of the arms glow softly against his brown skin, reflecting off his glasses. He looks over at you and sees the same for you. The curve of your cheeks and the light in your eyes tinged with green. “You know, um. It’s been a while since we’ve-eh- hung out?” Miguel stammers, taking off his glasses and cleans the right lens with his lab coat. “Maybe later tonight we could–if you like, of course– to join me for dinner?” He coughs and quickly places his glasses back on to hide his blush. He fails. You turn your head to face him, surprise evident on your face. “O-oh. As…colleagues?” Your voice pitches higher with nerves. Miguel gulps, Adam's apple bobbing with the action. “Well, no–it’s–what I’m trying to say is I’d like to have dinner with you as…more than colleagues.” Miguel burns brighter. He could solve the hardest equation, understand quantum physics and talk to scholars and billionaires with no sweat but when it came to you, you turned him into a babbling idiot. He glances at you from his peripheral vision, hoping you would not reject him. “Oh..! Then,” You give him a small smile. “I’d love to.”
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What started as one date, began another and another until a series of dates had been planned and enjoyed before it blossomed into a relationship with your boss. You never thought it possible. You always thought of Miguel as someone out of your reach, someone who would rather focus on winning awards and gaining money–helping humankind–before ever thinking of settling down with anyone. For months, you had been going out with him, and establishing your relationship and for months you were helping him with his invention. Miguel screamed as he threw everything he had on his desk aside in anger. Pens, papers and other tools flew to the floor and he gripped his hair in frustration. He tugged on his long curls hoping that the pain in his strands would outweigh the pounding in his head. You ran to his side and placed a hand on his back while he curled into himself, heaving heavily. “You need to rest.” You urged. “These damn billionaires,” He growls, ignoring you. “Can’t they see we’re just trying to help people? Can’t they see beyond something as worthless as the money they want?” He stomps away from you, heading to the pinboard that held all his drawings and calculations. He ripped them off their pins and clips, tearing them to shreds as they fluttered to the floor. “This is the next step to human evolution! And they want to dump my shit, my life’s WORK, just because of what?” He laughs hysterically. “Because that malparido Osborn doesn’t believe in it? Are they so far up that elitists ass?” You watch terrified behind him. You feel your heart pumping, your eyes trained on him in case he hurts himself. “Miguel…” He slams his fists on the now bare pinboard, papers strewn across the floor around him. He heaves out another sigh, his anger simmering. “I just want to help people.” He whispers, resting his forehead on the rough surface. While he takes in shaky breaths, you decide to approach him. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you turn his head towards you. Your heart breaks when you see the defeated look on his face. Eyebags had grown deeper, his eyes bloodshot and half lidded from sleep deprivation. “It’s okay.” You whisper.
“It’s not.” “It is. You’re a smart man, Miguel. You’ve done unimaginable things on your own. Your mind is what they need, but you? You don’t need their money. You have that brain of yours.” You tap his forehead and give him an encouraging grin. Miguel’s face falls into a relaxed smile, chuckling when you tap his forehead. “And you.” He whispers. “I have you.” He takes your hand off his shoulder and brings your knuckles up to his lips to kiss them. He keeps your hand against him until he breathes in and out slowly, looking up at you. “Thank you.” He mumbles, kissing your hand again before standing straight and moving his arms around your waist. “What would I do without you?” He grins tiredly. Your arms snake around his neck. “Probably die without me.” You giggled and he giggled with you. “Probably.” He hums while you look at each other, basking in the calm after the storm of emotions. “How about I bring us some tea?” You offer.
“No coffee?” “I think caffeine should be the least of your worries right now.” You roll your eyes playfully when you see his smirk. “English Breakfast?” You pat his chest before sliding away from his embrace, looking over your shoulder as you walk towards the exit. Miguel smiles and nods. “You know me so well.” He sighs and stuffs his hands in his pockets after watching you leave. His smile drops from his face and he looks over at the giant green robotic tentacles. With a gentle hand, he caresses the silicon with care. Then, he moves onto the spinal cord of the device, wondering if Osborn just saw what he could do–then it would all be worth it. With a glance at the door, he makes sure the coast is clear before taking off his lab coat and shirt–and attaches the tentacles to his body.
You loved Miguel, honestly. The man you met was the sweetest. He was kind and caring, always patient and encouraging for new minds that wanted to learn. He was gentle. Was. You wondered where it all went wrong. Maybe you should’ve seen the signs. It seemed like everyday he would get slowly more agitated. Not at you. Never at you. More like, at the situation–at least you’d tell yourself that. You remember waking up one day in Miguel’s apartment. With your growing relationship, you decided to move in with him but it seemed like you were alone again. Miguel was sleeping at the lab more often than not. Other times you would have had to drag him out of his burrow, him snapping with red eyes that he needed to continue working. With a sigh, you shuffled out of bed, the other side being freezing cold, and got ready for work.
After clocking in, you found Miguel exactly where he was last night—hunched over and murmuring to himself. You place the tea you brought down onto the table along with a sleeping pill right next to him.
“Mi amor, you need to get some actual rest. It’s been days. You’ll wear yourself out.” You speak as quietly as possible to not scare him. Miguel doesn’t flinch, only shrugging you off.
“I’m almost done.” He grumbles.
“You’ve been saying that for weeks now.” You frown deeply and nudge the tea closer to him. “At this rate everything will be in vain. It won’t work if—“
“IT WILL WORK!” Miguel screams, slamming his fist onto the table enough to shake the cup of tea's contents, spilling the sleeping pill. “It has to!”
You jump back, heart racing at his outburst.
Miguel huffs and collects himself, anxiously running his hands through his hair. He drags his hands down his face and rubs his eyes.
“Sorry, shock, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to yell at you. You're right—it’s the, uh, lack of sleep.” He sounds exhausted. Every word slurring and when he relaxed even for a moment, his body drooped forward.
“You know better than to do that…” You whisper and he looks up at you with heartbreak in his eyes.
“I…I know, mi cielo—pero—“ Miguel gives you a weak smile, some light coming back to his eyes. “Look. Look! The—the arms! They’re almost complete!” He rushes towards you, ignorant to the way you step back and flinch when he takes your hand in his.
Miguel leads you to where the tentacles stand and presents it to you with a wide smile.  “You see here?” He points to the spinal cord of the contraption. “All these ridges really gave me a run for my money. When trying to attach it to the body, they would stick and often fall. If these are to be used for prosthetics then it needs to not just be connected to the body but a part of it. As if the limb never left—or-or better—made better.” He laughs to himself, placing a hand over his mouth as he stares adoringly at the machine.
Meanwhile your eyes squint. “How…how would you know that? How would you know how they react to connecting to the human body? I thought…this was unstable for human testing.”
Miguel scoffs, waving his hand at you. “No one gets far in their inventions by worrying about the dangers, mija! THINK!” He shouts.
You’re horrified, darting your eyes between his bloodshot eyes and the tentacles. “You didn’t…”
Miguel is already on his way to the device and stands in front of it. The spine digs into Miguel’s back and he grunts, the vest he added secures around his waist, lighting up a soft green. The chip snaps into his neck and Miguel stumbles but regains balance. He slowly stands back up and the tentacles come to life, swirling and curling around him. In the midst of the tentacles wiggling around, it slammed against tables and chairs—knocking the tea you had gotten him to the floor.
“Think about how many lives we could save. Mi amor, mi vida, mi corazón, we’re at the brink of the next stage of human evolution!” His tentacles whip wildly around him as if cheering along with him.
“What…are you talking about?!” You yell, exasperated. “‘Human evolution’? Are you insane?!”
The bottom two green arms slam into the ground, breaking the floor as it’s crushed under the weight of Miguel. They lift him higher so he’s well above you—more than he already is. You take a step back, his height and strength becoming much more prominent.
“Do you think I’m insane, corazón?” Miguel asks softly. There’s a hint of green in his eyes.
“We’re—“ You gasp. “We’re meant to make prosthetics. Legs, arms—I thought this was a test to the future but this…” You run your eyes down the arms of the green silicon. Its claws are digging firm into the ground, holding up a six foot nine man’s weight with ease. Miguel’s face is contorted in a scowl, a burning rage underneath his beautiful brown eyes—a light green glowing in the highlights.
“This…is not you…” “What would you know about me?! You’re just some assistant that doesn’t know jackshit other than printing a few papers! All while I worked on this myself!” One of his upper tentacles slam next to you which makes you jump and lose your balance so you could fall to the ground.
“Day and night, all you did was be some aching headache, forcing me tea and pills when I should be wringing Osborn’s neck with my bare hands to show him what exactly he missed out on!” Miguel cackles, his tentacles lifting him higher like a God.
You’re afraid. Very afraid. It all happened so fast. Who was this man?
The tears well up in your eyes and for a minute—if you said another word it would trigger Miguel to kill you.
Miguel must’ve seen the terror on your face, tears bubbling at your water line and falling down your cheeks while you shivered. He must’ve because his sinister smile dropped slowly, his arms lowering him down. 
“No, no, no—bella—no. That’s—it wasn’t me—“ Miguel’s feet finally touch the ground and when he does, he hisses, gripping his head as an agonizing headache surges through his mind. He groaned and moaned and took several steps back away from you.
“No! Don’t make her look at me like that! She’s afraid! Don’t scare her! Don’t make her fear me!” He screams, hyperventilating as his legs shake beneath him. 
“What? No! I want Osborn! Not her! She didn’t do anything! Leave her alone! Please!” Miguel’s releases tears, giant globs flowing down his face as he faces an internal battle and the tentacles go haywire.
Finding your chance, you shakily get up from the floor, scrambling to your feet to the exit. You scream and fall after just a few steps, Miguel’s tentacles zipping past your head to break through the wall by the door. Another worker outside screams, peering through the hole and witnessing Miguel looking down at you with fury. They run off and it creates a domino effect for an evacuation.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Miguel growls and hovers closer to your shaking body. You turn over your shoulder, heart hammering in your ears and chest. You feel like you can’t breathe.
“Miggy…” You whimper. Miguel’s eye twitches and he looks like he’s struggling between himself and whatever it is that’s in his head.
He stutters your name out before his face is webbed and he groans. Four separate webs wrap around Miguel’s tentacles to attach to his body. Miguel glares up and sees a familiar red and blue suit with big white eyes.
“Don’tcha know it’s rude to be mean to a pretty lady?” The hero quips, standing front of you to protect you.
“Spider-Man…” You gasp—relief filling your chest.
“Spider-Man.” Miguel growls and rips himself free from the webs only to be hindered again once more—this time with stronger webs and with a force strong enough to stick him to a wall.
“Nope! Not yet! I’m still trying to figure out what exactly you are, so give me like five minutes to save some civilians. Thanks, you’re a swell guy!” Spider-Man winks and picks you up in his arms and quickly swings you away to safety.
You look over Spider-Man's shoulder while he swings away and you could barely hear Miguel scream in frustration, his body fighting against the webs. Inside, your heart breaks as you wonder if maybe there was a chance to save him.
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A/N: i dont see doc ock miggys. i would like to see more.
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oval3000 · 7 months
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Chapter 3
Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader
Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
(This might suck idk. I don't know German so it's all Google translate)
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He hasn't left his room for a month. They kept him in their with the straitjacket on. His meals are just vitamins that he has to swallow. You would go in to check up on him, but new orders from the administrator's to not go near at all, so you pass by his room. You would peak through the little window and see him laying on his back with little no to motion on his arms or body entirely. His psychiatrist, Dr. Smith is the only that goes in there. They have sessions in his room instead of the usual spot they have it in.
She was pissed at everyone, specifically you. You are her punching bag, even though it was Ben's fault. "Why hasn't he been given his meds!" She yelled at you.
"We are not allowed to go i-" you tried to explain your her, but she could care less.
"You are his nurse right! Your job is to give him his meds! How did you graduate when you can't even do that!" She yelled at you.
You plead for her to listen to you "I'm sorry, Dr. Smith. I can't it's Mr. Millers orders. No one can go in except you because you are his psychiatrist."
So she strolled her way to the administrator's office.
Ignoring his assistant from telling her that she can't go in. Slaming the door open to see him sitting on his chair, writing whatever cral he writes on paper.
"Sarah calm down!"
"Do you have any idea how dangerous he is, and you want me to deal with him alone! On top of that the lack of guards is making my job harder!" Dr. Smith argued with a hand on her hips and her finger pointing towards Ben.
"Do you remeber when you wanted a nurse to look after him." She rolled her eyes. Yes, you, the nurse. "Do you have any idea how much money is going towards her. Triple the pay for looking after him."
Her hands swing in motion, showing her frustration. "She can't even do her fucking job Ben!"
"If she's alive, then she's doing her job well. What's making this hard, is you barging into my office and telling me what to do when you are the one demanding this." He stood up from his chair, fixing his navy tie. "We're loosing staff. People don't want to go near him. Gabriel is threatening to sue the company. Gaurds are quiting left and right so sorry that there aren't enough staff attending your needs."
She crossed her arms with an annoying sigh leaving her lips tinted with red lipstick. "Then hire more people, I don't see the problem?"
"Did you not hear what I said" he walked towards her, standing toe to toe to her. "Majority of our budget is going towards (Y/n). She's been here for two months now, lasting longer than any other nurses. We can't afford another hire with the same pay to deal with König. Besides he hasn't actually killed anyone in those two months, I'll take that than dealing with someone who has a broken jaw from a simple punch."
"Then ask for more money." She scuffed like if it was a joke she said.
He laughed at her face, "Do you think the government cares to fund more for this place, I already have the staff on my ass for new medical supplies, do you think they are gonna hand me the budget to hire someone with triple pay just because you are scared."
"Then fire (y/n) and hire a new guard, maybe someone with military experience."
"Why would I do that. You came into my office, spreaded your legs cause you were so desperate for a nurse and now you want me to fire her. She hasn't done anything in particularly wrong."
"She doesn't follow orders!"
"She does, you just make it difficult." He came in defense.
"Wasn't she trying to stop you from putting him into a straitjacket?" She smirked while her arms crossed at her chest.
"Yes, and she was right. Putting him in a straitjacket does nothing. He was fine it's just that..." he closed his eyes taking deep breath.
"Just what?" She came closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, gently caressing it.
He turned his head to her, he used to lovy dovey with her seduction, but now it's more annoyance. "Eli, the other guard, came to my office the other day and told me that Gabriel was provoking König."
She rolled her eyes, looking around his office. Paying attention to the paintings hanged up on the wall and the light objects he has on his desk. "Like what? Making fun of him? We all make fun the people here what else is new?"
"I don't know the full details, but that's what he told me." He sat a bit on his desk.
"Why does that matter?" She shook her head without a single thought in her brain.
"Gabriel is threatening to sue us. If we fight the legal action, we'll have to defend König. König, just like any other patient represent us, our care. If they find out that Gabriel was the one that caused this, making König the victim it doesn't look good after we placed him in the straitjacket. Like we silencing him out. It will ruin our reputation, we'll all loose our jobs and you fucked your way up here for nothing."
"But he harmed a worker, beside murdered multiple people." She let out a little chuckle, placing her hand on his chest.
He didn't give in, instead, he gave her a stare. "He's ex- military and as for you being his psychiatrist, you'll have to speak on behalf of him. Meaning that people will find out about you, how you never studied to become a doctor you fucked every professor you had to get your degree."
"What are you saying, Ben." Her smile dropped.
"I won't fire (Y/n). She stood up for König, making us look like we care about our patients. As for Gabriel, all he's asking is for some 20,000 thousand dollars, which we can easily give him worth than standing infront of the judge. Which means that we can't afford new guards for you. Besides they're taking off his straitjacket today, so stop being so scared and do your dam job."
"I still think you should fire, (Y/n) atleast." She hummed, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I'm not doing that. Beside she's the only staff that doesn't barge in here demanding stuff. She nice and sweet...." he looked down to the side, " and...young and beautiful. "
She let go of his waist, clenching her jaw. Yes, you being so beautiful. "So what? You want to fuck her? Is that it. Never head young pussy before?"
"You should leave, I have work to do and so do you. This discussion is over." He walked to his desk, sitting down on his chair, unbutton his last few buttons from his dark, navy, blazer.
She stormed off his office, angrly stomping on the white tile floors with her heels creating a louder noise.
You heard the word going around that their taking of his straitjacket, so you quickly gathered what you need to check him up. You saw as the guards took off. He let out a big stretched, flexing more of his muscles. It caused a scare to the guards like a lion letting out a roar.
You walked up to and saw more of his face. He stared at you.
He missed you. He never thought he would miss you. During that month of not seeing you was a time he contemplated about you. Are you made for him or not. He will shut his eyes and images of you will pop up. You smiling at him. Taking good care of him. Watching you squirm under him as you take his full length cock inside your pussy. He'll treat you with respect as long as you do what he says that's all. Seeing your belly swell up with his baby. Can't wait to fuck your tits filled with milk. Can't wait to impregnate you with multiple of his children, making one big happy family. How protective he'll be for his kids, for you. To stand up to the bullies, to show them not to be scared of anything. To hold them if they cry.
He should kill you for making him react this way. He should just kill you. You are just another nurse thinking they have control over him. He use to give orders to people, being the colonel and all, he got the respect he fought for, why does he feel weak around you. You are so sweet and joyful to him. If he was back in the field and saw you, would he kill you. Or maybe fuck you. Maybe that's it. He hasn't done it in so long, so long he hasn't touch a women. He should've just fucked one of the other nurses. Yes, maybe he should do that. Fuck a nurse, just to see. I mean what's the harm in that.
"Aah...yes. right there ngh.... yes...oh fuck that feels good."
The sound of König's footsteps were low that they couldn't hear over the sound of skin slapping against eachother. Watching a men fucking his girlfriend on his bed.
"Does your boyfriend fuck you like this?" Slaming her ass back and forth on his cock.
"Ah....a-aah....he-..he could barley...make me- fuck!..mmgh....wet." She grip the bedsheets hard while he kept pounding her.
No. No. He can't. Not you. He can't. He can't betray you like they did. He can't imagine the face you'll make if you know he fucked another girl. No he should be pure to you. You should be the only one he touches.
He needs you. Okay, it's done. He'll make you his and you'll love him. You'll love him and care for him. Rather you like him or not it's done.
You wrapped the cuff around his bicep and squeeze the bulb reading the numbers on the circle, writing it down. Doing the usual things you have studied for. As you were checking his heartbeat, he reached up which caused you to flinch a bit. His index finger, gently, caressing your cheek. Your back was turned to the guards, making it hard them to see what's going. You stared at him as he touched you with such charisma. His thumb reaching to your chin, hovering over your lips. He placed the tip of his thumb on your bottom lip, gently pulling it out a bit.
You shouldn't have this feeling at the pit of your stomach. You couldn't tell of you didn't smack his hand away because you are scared or because you enjoy it. You never had this much attention, not like this.
"I don't have time to argue with you (Y/n)! Go to your room!" The little girl tuged at her moms shirt.
"Where's daddy?" She felt tears running down her face as her mother poured more wine into her glass, already finishing up the fresh new bottle.
"(Y/n)! Seriously go to room! You are such a headache! Why couldn't your father take you with him! Nauseating!" She dranked the entire glass, slamming the cup on the table.
"Where's daddy?" She said one last time not letting go of her blanket. The same blanket her father got her when she told him she was cold.
"HE LEFT! HE LEFT US (Y/N)! LEFT US FOR THAT BITCH! AND NOW I'M STUCK HERE WITH YOU. HE RUINED MY LIFE. I COULD'VE DONE SOOOO MANY THINGS! But no! I'm stuck to take care of a brat!"
He palmed your cheek, feeling your warmth. He went in closer to you. You could feel his hot breath, quicken as he got closer to your lips.
You pulled back, "I shouldn't- we shouldn't. I mean." You whispered to him.
"Mein liebling (my darling)." He whispered to you. The first time he spoke to you. You couldn't understand him, but he spoke to you. "Du bist mein (you are mine)." He pulled you closer to him, he didn't care if the guards were staring, if anything, he enjoys it. To show everyone that he is yours to touch. "Mein schatz (my sweetheart)," his lips were hovering yours, you felt a little tingle at how close he was.
You know this shouldn't happen. You turned your away from his. You walked back, feeling his grasp letting go. He stared at you witch a smile on his face. You saw the smile he gave you.
When your shift ended and went back to your apartment, the thoughts of what happened lingered into your mind.
That night, you couldn't sleep. He was in your dreams. What if you never pulled way. Were you really going to kiss him. You glazed over the parts where he touched you.
You searched the words he said to you to translate it. Sweetheart, darling, mine.
You felt the butterflies in your stomach again. You never felt so complicated before.
Having a crush on a patient.
You have a crush on König.
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satoshy12 · 4 months
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I am going to beat you UP BOOSTER GOLD!!!
In the future, all of the earth will be conquered. In a pretty easy way. Without wars and similar situations, and while under tyranny, it was actually a good place. A true utopia without heroes, villains, and similar. +++ In the past, It had been a normal day in the Justice League as Portal opened and a group of heroes and villains came out: Just looking around, and all of them tried to jump Booster Gold and Flash. As the Justice League after stopping them asked why the time traveler wanted to beat them up that badly, all of them wanted to do it. It was funny to see Lex and Superman working together after all. +
They began to explain. ____ It all began with the introduction of young Dr. Daniel Fenton, a true child prodigy and self-made wealthy boy dedicated to helping others. Everything was going smoothly until Booster Gold decided to share his unconventional thoughts. He Suggested! That the child could potentially conquer the world using the current setting. And then told him a range of bizarre ideas, including a communications jamming system, missiles, traps, self-activating lasers, and even an indoor lagoon filled with piranhas.
Danny: "Piranha. Why ever would I want… piranha?" Booster Gold: To eat the heroes And also think about a secret underground grotto with a speed boat for escape purposes. And-and-and gigantic Moving Weapons of doom, they'd be huge and destroy anything in their path!"
The Flash intervened, urging Booster Gold to leave, and Danny bid them farewell, expressing gratitude. The Flash: Come on, Gold, we should leave. + As they departed. Danny pondered the peculiar suggestions, acknowledging his abundant wealth and free time and contemplating the need for a new and interesting hobby. ++ Danny had come to this world to be a hero. But he never tried to pull a Vlad. And when he is done, he can show that he is better at it than him! All he needed was to plan to not fail.
++ So after 5 years of planning, at the age of 19, he started his Conquest of the World, which was pretty successful in his victory speech. He thanked Booster Gold and the Flash for telling him he could change much more and much better if he were a villain and just took over the world! And he did! ++ While in the Justice League and Legion of Doom, who were in hidding, all at once slowly turned their heads to the duo. Like in a Horror Movie.
++++
Back to the present/Past
Both groups are happy that Flash and Booster Gold didn't meet the child prodigy; it turns out he was still at least 10 or 9 years old at the moment. A few years before he became famous, he was just living alone somewhere on Earth.
But that means a new plan!
Lex, like Veronica Cale, was pissed that the boy was able to take over their company, but then again, the boy was able to take over all the companies in America at the same time.
But now, in the past, they can think of plans—good plans! With their Guiding they can do so much! Same with Heroes.
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kuro4thegays · 3 months
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- Dr. Ratio nsfw alphabet -
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[Veritas Ratio x gn!reader] [Originally written with male reader in mind, but there is no mention of genitalia so I think it can work for any gender. I tried to provide both something for top and bottom reader so everyone can get something out of this. The reader is assumed to be in a long term relationship with Veritas]
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Veritas can be really romantic. Initially, he doesn’t want either of you to pull away at all, just to nuzzle each other while your bodies stay intertwined in such an intimate fashion. Though if you really need it he’ll get up immediately to get you some water or snacks or really anything you need. Depending on the time of day you also might be expecting a bath, massages too.
B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Not a specific body part, but likes how proportional and symmetrical his body is as a whole. This guy is literally named Dr Ratio, leave me alone. On you though, I think he likes your face. Basic answer, but I really can't see it any other way. Definitely likes tracing the contours of your face when bored, studying it like an ancient sculpture. Oh, and I guess it's pretty hot how your face twists in pleasure while you're doing it.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)
If he's topping he likes to cum inside, otherwise cumming all over you is the second best. I feel like he wouldn't be a fan of cumming all over himself so if bottoming he'll like to do it either on the bed or if possible somewhere on you. My man also probably likes fruits, that's what gives his cum a sweet-ish taste, definitely not the sugary sweet kind though, the earthy natural sweet.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Definitely wants to do it in a very natural space, like a lake or something. That primal feeling, miles away from the rationality he exudes usually, really gets him going, but he's too afraid of someone walking in and ruining the moment to actually do it.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Virgin. Most of his life he probably had that kind of mindset that it's probably not worth it getting involved with someone else when he has everything he needs here. Still thinks that way, but now has you to keep his balls empty.
F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)
Loves lifting you off the ground, gotta show those muscles off. You just wrap around him so snugly and your faces are so close to each other it takes no effort just to start making out while pounding into you. Doesn't mind being lifted up himself either, especially if you're squeezing his ass while doing so, has and will attack your face with kisses. Other than that he likes anything where you two are face to face just in general.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Very serious. Because of how little experience he has and how little people he has let see him this way he probably takes it as an extremely important bonding time so don't expect any jokes or laughs from him. Though he won't be mad if you're into the more casual kind, hell, he’ll let you try getting a laugh out of him.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Extremely well groomed. He's a neat freak, man loves baths and goes nuts when he sees a single dirty spot on his book, he's well capable of keeping himself clean. No hair out of place and all, if he even has any on his lower body.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Said it already, but he takes sex very seriously. Slow and sensual is his thing. Makes it a whole ritual, lighting candles, maybe using some rose petals that he likes putting into his baths, massaging your back, everything to make you feel absolutely refreshed afterwards and ultimately make you feel closer to each other at the end.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Doesn't do it that often, but when he does it's most likely during the morning shower. Though, unfortunately, if he has the displeasure of having another bath without his lover he might have to rub one out alone in there too.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Praise and degradation are a must with this man. Just state your preference, or do both if you’re into it, and he’ll already be running his mouth even before you start. Body worship is also a big thing for him. With his marble statues you can assume that he at least must love his own body and something tells me that he’ll be equally if not more obsessed with his lover's one.
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
Not into risky stuff, he has a reputation to keep. Maybe you can suck him off under his work desk with all the doors locked, but that's where it ends. Maybe bathhouses, but only if you have a reserved room or smth. Though when it comes to your private adobe nothing is off the table. The bed, bathtub, over the counter, against the wall, he isn't too picky.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Not hard to get him in the mood. Loves how open you are with him and if you ask him nicely he’ll already feel motivated. Just seeing you so needy and wanting him makes him feel special, like he is the only one who you would run up to with something so intimate. Expect him to tease you about it though.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Anything that has to do with risking his reputation, no public sex or exhibitionism. Threesomes are also a no for him, not with someone he knows and definitely not with a stranger. He has made it clear that you're the only one who he wants to experience this kind of intimacy with.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He was definitely a little weirded out at the start. Don't get me work, he knew how it's done and what it meant, he isn't that innocent, but the thought of actually doing just felt gross to him. Of course, that's where you came(in more ways than one) in. Unfortunately for you, he is a fast learner. Now oral is his favorite way to open up a long night session with you. It doesn't take much preparation, so expect him to wake you up using his mouth.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
My guy likes to take his time. He sees sex like he sees his baths, a way to cleanse the body of all its filth, so sometimes it really does feel like you're making love instead of having sex. He just finds himself dissatisfied with the fast and rough methods that just dry him out.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
It might seem surprising after I talked so much about him taking his time, but I don't think he actually minds quickies that much. Though he doesn't like making a routine out of them, sure a quickie is good once in a while to relieve some stress, but he doesn't want it to spoil sex for him entirely. He likes them most during the morning showers.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
While he doesn't want to take any risks with his reputation, he certainly doesn't mind doing risky stuff behind closed doors. How are you supposed to see the results without any experimentation?
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Oh, he can go for plenty. My man is beefy and all that muscle isn't just for show. The thing is, one round for him already takes a while so expect to be spent and thoroughly satisfied. Not that he doesn't mind going again, he's just wondering if you can keep up.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't have a lot of toys but he definitely doesn't mind using some on you or you using some on him. Keep in mind though, if you allow him he can get pretty ruthless with them.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Definitely a huge tease, refuse to believe otherwise. Going to go further into it in a moment, but my guy is talkative. Nothing you do will go unnoticed and everything you do will be commented on. Also teasing with his actions. That one extra button left unbuttoned was specifically left there to cause a reaction from you. Will deny you orgasm if you're into that. He loves the power all the things listed above give him and the feeling of being desired really gets him going. You could inflate his ego even more or even try to shut that pretty mouth yourself.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
I don't know if this is a hot take but I think that he might get more vocal once he is with someone he trusts. Definitely won't hide his voice from you when he sees you getting more aroused, might as well use it to tease you. Oh, and he's definitely a talkative one. Expect lots of comments between those sweet groans and moans of his.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Massages are his favorite form of foreplay. Be it during baths with all his fancy soaps and oils or in bed after an exhausting day, it's a very intimate, but not necessarily sexual, way to relax the body and he needs your body to be relaxed if he wants to proceed with more intense stuff. Doesn't mind receiving a massage either, though he is mostly the one giving them he can't deny himself the pleasure of your hands worshiping his muscles.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
He is a big man, what do you expect? No, but for real, it matches his size. Every part of him is proportional. Always cleanly shaven and well groomed and only has a few subtly visible veins just below the head. Cut and colored with a pinkish blush on the very tip.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Not that high. He keeps himself intellectually occupied most of the time. Though he can get turned on pretty quickly when his partner initiates.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
I imagine most of your steamy encounters happen at the end of the day so he already feels pretty drained. That orgasm is probably the last push for him before going to bed, assuming that all of your needs are taken care of first.
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[Just something quick to deliver while I'm working on something bigger to keep you all well fed]
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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months
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Scarlet Delivery
a Scarlet Webs story
Wanda Maximoff x Spider-Man!Reader
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Wanda was hyperventilating. Her cell phone was buzzing just waiting for you to pick it up.
“Hello?” You manage to answer.
“Detka, where are you?!” She managed to say in between her hyperventilating breaths.
“Currently…rush hour” you said sticking to the front of a police car. The perp was Mac Gargan. “You shouldn’t worry, baby. I’ll be there.”
“Promise?” Wanda said, tears streaming down her cheek.
“I promise.” A gunshot went off. You narrowly dodged a bullet, “gotta go. Hey! Can’t you see I was taking a phone call!?”
And with that you had to hang up and jump back into the fray. You hated having to do patrol without Wanda. But circumstances had changed the flow and now you were solo again. Nothing changes when you’re the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
Meanwhile, Wanda’s tears were still flowing as a portal opened behind her. And out of the portal comes this universe’s Doctor Stephen Strange.
“It’s time,” he says gesturing for your lovey witch to follow. She does so, all the while hoping that you’d keep your promise.
You land on the hood of Mac Gargan’s stolen vehicle. “License and registration, sir?”
Blam! Another shot goes off, you jump onto the roof of the car. A couple more shots ring out. You dodge each bullet flawlessly.
“Can we wrap this up?” You mockingly whine, “I have prior engagements!”
You web up Mac and yank him out the car, webbing him to a nearby streetlight. The car barrels towards a nearby crosswalk where a little old lady with a Walker is currently trying to cross.
“Of all the times!” You jump onto the hood and spray it with various webs before jumping onto the back and yanking the car back with all your might, bringing the car to a dead halt mere inches from the elderly lady.
You give a quick salute and swing off. You knew the location. You knew where Wanda was gonna be. It was all a piece of cake right?
Well then came the Vulture. He tries to slice at you once, twice. “Not now Toomes! I have some place to be.”
“Yes. The morgue!” He tries slicing at you again. You swing thru Times Square and web the winged foe in a giant spider web.
“Yo! Spidey!” A citizen calls out to you.
“Yeah?”
“Where’s your lady? The Witch?”
“I’m trying to get to her now!” You call out before swinging off again into the city. Why did it have to be on the other end of New York?
You land on a rooftop. You quickly web a couple silk lines to your suit, forming a makeshift pair of wings.
“I’m coming Wanda,” you shoot out two web lines and slingshot yourself across the city. Catching a wind current, you sail thru the open air of the city.
You see your destination: the Sanctum Sanctorum. You dive bomb and land right in front of the building. Wong quickly answers the door.
“How far?” You ask.
“You made it just in time.” He smiles and leads the way. You nearly run the way to the little room.
You run in to find Wanda in a relaxed position, still hyperventilating. Nine months pregnant and she still looked beautiful as ever. Dr Strange was readying his medical scrubs.
“Detka!” Wanda exclaims, tears of joy streaming down her face. You run up to her, kissing her gently.
“I promised I’d be here, right?” You ask with a little smirk. Wanda giggles and kisses you again.
“Okay Wanda,” Strange intones, “it’s time. Now push.”
“Sure you got this, Doc?” You ask.
“It’s not surgery. I’m just catching the babies. I won’t drop them.”
“Drop them and I will kill you” Wanda say through gritted teeth.
“I believe you” Strange answers back. “Now focus and push.”
It ended up taking the rest of the day and into the night but Wanda delivered two healthy baby boys. You and her were so excited.
“My boys,” Wanda said with fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “Billy. Tommy.”
“They’re amazing,” you kiss the top of Wanda’s head, “thank you baby.”
“Thank you. I love them so much already,” Wanda let out a little tired laugh. She actually had her boys in her arms. This wasn’t some conjured up version of them. This wasn’t some other universe’s version of them. This was them, flesh and blood. She had a loving spouse, two handsome little babies, a nice little home in Queens.
Wanda finally had the life she always wanted. And best yet, she got to have it with you, her Spider Monkey.
Tags: @tokufighter @ma1egamer @jacelion @lifespectator @aloneodi @holiday-house-of-m @family-house-of-m @multi-fandom-enjoyer @iamnicodemus @rroyale-109 @scarletquake-n7 @moonpheus
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feyhunter78 · 4 months
Text
Jealously, Jealously
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Couldn’t find a fanart I felt fit so have a gif!
Nerd!Miguel Masterlist
You’re not jealous, you can’t be jealous, because Miguel isn’t yours. You’re friends, study buddies, lab partners, platonic, platonic, platonic, so why do you feel so shitty watching him and this random girl—Ava she said her name was—flirting?
Maybe it’s because she’s flipping her long silky black hair over her shoulder, batting her thick naturally dark lashes up at him, laughing at his jokes with a laugh that sounds like music, and Miguel’s eating it up.
You’ve never seen Miguel so confident, and it hurts. You’ve been friends with him for ages now, and he’s never been so forward, so clearly sure of himself when he’s with you. He’s talking, leaning down to hear her better, letting her touch his arm, his chest, even his fucking neck.
You stew in silence, arms crossed, watching them from your place behind the Sig Epp letters.
You were supposed to be getting lunch, walking, and talking with Miguel, only stopping to say hello to Brett, but then this Ava girl showed up and all of a sudden, she and Miguel have to speak privately.
“What’s got you all heated?” Brett asks, bumping his shoulder into yours, joining you against the low wall, behind the giant painted letters.
They’re what four-five feet tall, painted in the Sig Epp colors, made of plywood and some other material you don’t really recognize, and don’t care to. They’re good to hide behind, and that’s what you’re doing.
“I’m not heated.” You tell him, rolling your eyes when Ava playfully squeezes Miguel’s bicep, her laugh ringing out through the courtyard.
“Tsst, ouch.” Brett says, jerking away from you dramatically, acting as if touching your shoulder burned him.
“You’re not funny.” You deadpan, averting your eyes from Miguel and onto Brett.
“I’m a little funny.” He says, “remember when I got Dr. Blevins to do that TikTok trend with me?”
“The one where you tried to guess which of the other professors in the department he hated?” You snort, turning to face him, leaning against the sun-bleached bricks.
It was pretty funny, Dr. Belvins wasn’t the nicest man on the planet, but who would’ve known he had such a hatred for Dr. Vervid? Though you shouldn’t be too surprised, there weren’t many people who liked the Organic Chemistry professor.
“See I’m funny.” Brett says, wriggling his eyebrows victoriously.
“You did one funny thing.”
He presses a hand to his heart. “You wound me y/n, truly, down to the deepest chasm of my very soul.”
“Alright, Shakespeare,” you laugh, “time to phone it in.”
Brett takes an exaggerated bow.
You roll your eyes but giggle. Brett is a goof, and while usually you find it all a bit ridiculous, it does the trick, the uncomfortable emotions you’re feeling lessen.
“No, but seriously, you seem upset, is everything alright?” Brett’s voice takes on a more serious tone, and he gives you a sympathetic smile. “I know we’re not close like you and Miguel, but I do consider you a friend, and if I can help, I’d like to.”
Are you crying? You think you might cry. “Shut up, why are you being so nice to me?”
“I’m a nice guy, not like that, an actual nice guy, a nice person.”
You sigh and roll your neck, letting it hang to one side as you look at Brett. “I think I might be jealous?”
“Oh, of Miguel and Ava? Yeah, I see them hanging out sometimes, she’s hot.”
Gut punch.
“You’ve seen them hanging out?” You dig your nails into your palm to try and keep the emotion out of your voice. Thankfully it works.
“Sometimes, used to see them hanging out before you two got close, but it’s picked back up recently.” Brett says, casting a surprisingly subtle glance over at the dark-haired pair.
Double gut punch.
“Oh…cool.” You reach for your phone preparing to either hide in it or text Miguel and tell him you have to miss lunch, either way you’re pretty sure you’re going to start crying.
Brett snaps to attention and reaches out to put a hand on your shoulder. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t even—I’m sorry.”
“No, no, Miguel and I are just friends, I don’t care who he hangs out with, it doesn’t matter to me.”
Totally doesn’t matter that he defended you against Kron, that he said he wanted to have a daughter with you. That you almost kissed, that he’s coming with you to the semiformal, that you eat lunch together every day during the week, totally doesn’t matter.
“Oh well...I don’t think they’re dating or anything, Miguel isn’t like that, he wouldn’t…” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “He’s not the kind of guy to lead someone on.”
“I said we’re just friends. Bye Brett.” You snap, shoving your phone back in your pocket and readjusting your backpack as you speed walk in the opposite direction of Miguel. Hoping fervently that you can make it back to the Humanities Building, then to the parking lot, before he notices you’re gone.
Of course, you have no such luck, and you can hear Miguel calling out to you, then your phone lights up in your hand.
“Hey.” You say, keeping your voice calm.
“Y/N, where are you going, I thought we were getting lunch?” His voice is so sweet, so concerned, and you hate him for it.
“I forgot my next class was canceled, and I have a big essay coming up, I’m just going to go home and work on it.” You lie, digging your car keys out of your backpack.
“Oh…okay…” You can picture him, standing there all alone, looking down at his feet, clutching the strap of his backpack protectively, his voice thick with disappointment.
You hate yourself for feeling guilty, but then you remember he’s not alone, he has Ava.
“Just go eat lunch with Ava, you guys seemed pretty cozy, don’t let me interrupt.” You can’t stop the venom from dripping into your voice.
“Interrupt? Y/N, you wouldn’t be—no, I’m not—Ava is just—it’s not like that.” Clearly, the words are spilling past his lips faster than his brain can process them.
“I don’t care, go, have fun, do whatever you want.” It’s petty, and unreasonable, you know, but you’re hurt, and you want him to hurt too. You hang up and put your phone on do not disturb, slamming your car door shut and heading home as you burst into tears.
Directly connected parts are: Flowers On Your Doorstep and Semiformal Kisses and Cat Fights
TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey
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A Quick Run
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Summary: Spencer attempts to exercise with Reader.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Word count: 638
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When you told Spencer you were thinking about getting into fitness again, he was excited to tag along. Maybe so you’d have an easy opponent. Maybe because he’d take any excuse to spend time with you.
Even if that meant taking a run through a nearby cemetery. He wasn’t afraid of cemeteries or anything. He actually found them quite peaceful. This is especially since besides the comfort they can give to living loved ones, they are largely untouched areas of land that should be used more by the public. No, the issue is that this cemetery is quite… hilly. And Spencer couldn’t oversell his lack of coordination or breath control.
And it’s when he gets out of the car and spots you doing stretches at the beginning of the path that he realizes he made a huge mistake. You’re even jogging in place, eager to get moving. Spencer could not relate less. If anything, his heart is pounding from inevitable embarrassment.
“Ready, go!” You exclaim before taking off. Spencer follows, picking up his arms and legs with every step. He's already winded and the burning wraps his thighs quickly. Meanwhile, you jog like you’re floating on air. Like it’s all-natural to you. Like you actually workout regularly (or at all, unlike him).
He catches your eye as you look back, noticing your pace slowing. “You go ahead!” He shouts, still trying not to look like exhaustion and heat are already bright red on his face. “You’re doing great! Go!” He throws his arm toward the first hill like it’s not about to pop out of its socket any minute.
When you turn around to pick up your pace, your natural pace, Spencer slows down to what could be considered a slight jog or a wounded animal. His lungs become dust in his throat. He looks around at the headstones, some clean and decorated and others barely withstanding time. He wonders if any of them would enjoy a new neighbor. And it’s when you disappear over that first hill that he finds a vacant patch of grass to collapse on top of. He cooks himself in the late spring sun. Every exhale sounds like he’s a cartoon character exaggerating an asthma attack, and the pain makes him question (briefly) if he actually is.
He heaves while lying flat on the short grass, surely sucking down a couple of gnats in his suffering. He shielded his eyes from the sun. Spencer wished he could impress you. Three doctorates and being an FBI agent only mean so much when encouraging someone new in his life to stick around. He thought his drive to put in effort would be enough. He’s not even sure that drive would be enough to even catch up to you.
“Spencer.”
He looks over to the path, seeing you in leggings and a tank along with a graceful layer of sweat causing you to glisten in the sun. If air could have stayed in his lungs he would’ve said something. Maybe an apology or insisting he needed five more minutes. But you were already close, and you held out your hand to help him up.
Spencer swallowed what bit of spit he had collected in his desert of a mouth, then took your hand. You brushed dirt and grass from his sweatshirt. “We can do this another time.” You insisted.
“I’ll be fine.” He somehow says. “I’ll just be a… a pit stop for you.”
You chuckled. “Come on, pretty boy.” You touch his back as you walk toward the car. “We can rest while watching Dr. Who.” You even threw one of Spencer’s arms around your shoulder.
“Actually that sounds good,” Spencer says. “I can do that.” His fingers make contact with the skin on your arm, and he thinks that this might’ve been worth it.
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