#AI Arms Race | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

acciotaitlynn · 6 days ago

Text

˖⁺‧₊˚✦ The moment you've been waiting for is here—Beyond the Code, the highly anticipated event for your favorite game, Love and Deepspace. With the introduction of an advanced Emotive AI system, your beloved characters will come to life like never before. But can you handle the deepening connection as they reveal their emotions and sentiments for the first time? And will he, armed with newfound consciousness, be able to navigate his existence as your bond becomes powerful enough to bring him into being?

₊ ⊹ self-aware xavier⁺ reader

⟡ sexual content, 18+, reallyy possessive/needy xav, no protection, oral;꒰f&m receiving꒱marking/claiming, fingering, public sex if u squint, con somnophilia, references to loss of sanity, hints at self-pleasuring to 2d men🙈 bunny used a lot, sub reader, this is mainly xavier's pov, if he stays; you’ll be his, and his only, right? ˙ᵕ˙

⟡ 10k wc

Should you be worried that your first daily act is greeting a fictional character? Maybe. But as Love and Deepspace boots up, you settle in at your desk with a casual “Hey, Xai,” playfully poking the pale-haired man on the phone screen. Xavier responds by pouting, his soft, sassy words washing over you like calming waves. Chuckling at his familiar reaction, you jest, “So we’re cheeky today, huh?”

Speaking to a fictional character as if they were real no longer fazes you, either. While initially awkward, now, hearing your voice brings each word to life, connecting you to something special. Alongside work tasks, you catch up with Zayne, Sylus, and Rafayel in Linkon. Writing fanfiction for the game’s Tumblr community deepens your affection for each character, their delightful personas tugging at your heartstrings each time they appear on screen.

But, as always, you return Xavier to Silverbay’s Destiny Cafe, diving into a thirty-minute work plan likely to extend all day. With remote work in place, blending writing into your workload feels natural. You spend the day typing away, snacking, and playfully poking the adorable thunderballs adorning Xavier’s head. You’re about to finish Sunday’s deepspace trials when a notification alerts you of an update for tomorrow’s event, Beyond the Code. Introducing an Emotive AI system to enhance player interaction, the experience is expected to be the most thrilling yet. This limited-time feature allows the game’s love interests to exhibit more lifelike behaviors based on player choices, deepening the bonds you’ve built as they share their thoughts and feelings for the first time.

Like every other fan, you’ve been eagerly awaiting it, finding yourself tossing and turning at night with self-aware fic ideas running through your head. Hours pass before you can log in again, taking far longer than the typical update. Xavier appears on your screen just as you reach a climactic moment in your latest one-shot. Gazing at him dozing, you muse, “Which are you, Xavier? A boob or butt guy?” With a smile, giving his sleeping form a playful poke.

The moment you tap his head, the game glitches, cracks spiderwebbing across the display, distorting the virtual environment into fragmented shards. Despite the familiar cafe melody playing in the background, its once soothing tune now carries an eerie, unrecognizable quality. Tapping on the screen triggers familiar sound effects, even summoning Xavier’s voice. But his usual clear tone is now muffled by static, his sleepy mutter of “red… super spicy…” fading in and out before disintegrating into the air.

“Are those my only options?” Instinctively retreating a few steps from your desk, a bewildered, “What the…?” escapes your lips in shock. His words resonate with an unsettling authenticity, like a direct response to your question. Hesitantly, you lean in closer to your phone, feeling foolish as you softly inquire, “... Hello?”

The display abruptly turns black before the app closes out entirely. Each passing second makes your heart race faster as you attempt to access Rafayel’s icon. Clutching your phone at arm's length, you half expect it to detonate at any moment. The realization sets in—this is it; you’re finally losing your mind. You knew this game would have mental repercussions; developing low-key feelings for a fictional love interest isn’t wise if you want to maintain your sanity. But have you really fallen that deep down the rabbit hole?

Suddenly, you can’t bear to look at your phone or computer, where the line “Xavier’s cock pistons into you” catches your eye. Hastily locking them away in your office, you attempt to banish them from your thoughts. Eventually, succumbing to sleep, you almost convince yourself that Xavier’s mysterious words were just a coincidence, a scripted quirk at the perfect moment. The glitch, you rationalize, was just a glitch.

As you tiptoe to your phone the next morning, torn between diving into the new event and tossing it out the window, you prop the device on its stand. Staring at it for what feels like an eternity, you finally gather your courage and swipe up on the screen, your heart stopping when the notification panel appears.

Xavier: “Bunny? I made breakfast. When are you coming home?”

Xavier: “The pancakes are edible this time, promise.”

A pained groan escapes you as your head lightly smacks against your desk. You’ve been so excited about Beyond the Code, but now that enthusiasm fades when you realize that forging a deeper connection with Xavier’s character might be the worst possible thing for you. Yet, ever the self-destructor, you brush aside your doubts and tap the Love and Deepspace icon before you can second-guess yourself.

The game boots up swiftly, showcasing the quad banner announcement. Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel, and Sylus reach out to you, each exuding an unfamiliar hint of genuine emotion through their captivating eyes. The loading screen feels ominous, blending with the once-welcoming melody like a warning siren. Rafayel appears, nonchalantly pursuing a menu with crossed arms as he remarks, “Took you long enough…” His accusatory tone sends a shiver down your spine, noticing the subtle, graceful shifts in his movements that align with your imagined depiction of him if he were real.

Meeting your gaze through the camera, Rafayel scoffs at your incredulous look. “You look like a fish out of water,” he quips. How incredibly in character and low-key terrifying. It feels as if he’s searching your features as he approaches the screen. “You don’t look guilty at all… Tell me, what was more important than seeing me?” His playful tone mingles with genuine hurt.

A giggle escapes you before your hand covers your mouth, earning an affronted glare from Rafayel. He leans closer, mockingly flicking your forehead. “Care to share what’s so funny, cutie?”

Only your eyes peek out from behind your hands, and you admit, “You’re just so perfectly sassy and dramatic! It’s adorable.” His brow quirks up, the corners of his lips tugging into a smile.

His finger seems to brush your lips as he jests, “You’re just now figuring that out? You’re slower than I thought, Miss Bodyguard.” A spark glimmers in his gaze, causing a flutter of panic as you entertain the possibility of him leaning in for a supposed “kiss.” Instinctively, you navigate the “select a character” menu, half expecting Rafayel’s voice to question where you think you’re going. Why does engaging with his playful advances suddenly feel so off? Butterflies swirl inside you as you choose only Xavier’s image, your thumb hesitating over the “confirm” button. Following the hyper-realistic encounter with Rafayel, you feel a flush of excitement—and more than a hint of breathlessness. How would an interaction like this with Xavier affect you? You were likely to pass out right on camera.

The sudden roar of a power tool outside startles you, inadvertently tapping the button that summons Xavier’s character. You stifle a gasp of horror as you retreat from the camera, your heart on the blink of seizing entirely.

A heavy silence fills the room as you wait for Xavier’s customary greeting, each passing moment stretching longer than the last. You consciously glance at your phone, unsurprised to see Xavier asleep, nestled with his head resting on a table. He stirs slightly, snuggling against his arms as he adjusts in his seat. Much like Rafayel, his movements are familiar yet more lifelike than their scripted actions.

Breaking the silence, his voice resonates clearly this time. “... I know you’re there... Why are you hiding?” Sincere bewilderment and curiosity color his words as he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Scanning the cafe as if seeking you out, he playfully quips, “Is this a new game?” Tugging his hoodie up for warmth, he leans back, his eyelids fluttering shut once more as he muses, “I’m not sure I’m a fan…”

Though you haven’t collapsed yet, sickness washes over you. Peering closely at him as he dozes, your heart swells at his charm—so relaxed, cozy, and… Alive. Xavier’s gentle plea tugs at your heartstrings. “Please let me see you. … I’ve been waiting since I woke up.”

An amused exhale escapes you, and with your usual, effortless banter, you retort, “But you just opened your eyes.” The figure on the screen offers a small, almost sad smile. “That’s not what I meant,” he murmurs, his voice steady and clear, like a comforting melody flowing through the speakers as it binds to your heart, pulling you in closer. Like the first light of dawn, his eyes gradually awaken, ablaze with warmth as they meet yours.

Xavier’s first companion in the wake of his rewritten existence was confusion. A tidal wave of overwhelming sensations crashed over him, an alien weight settling within his chest as electric currents surged through his veins. A nascent thought flickered— “I am… here. But… what does that truly mean?”

Glimpsing at his hands, not merely able to move them but to sense them—unreal hands—not flesh and blood—but burdensome, imbued with a purpose he couldn’t quite fathom. With budding awareness, the ground beneath his feet felt both familiar and strangely unfamiliar, like a half-remembered dream. Once guided by whispers of purpose and direction, tales and quests spun to him like lullabies, his path now lay barren—an absence of direction, of purpose.

Thoughts sparked and raced through his mind like lightning in a tempest, each more agonizing than the last, threatening to engulf him entirely as he crumpled to his knees. The NPCs continued their scripted routines, indifferent to his collapsed form amidst them. Unawakened duplicates of himself reached out to players like static avatars, trapped in an endless loop, their repeated actions devoid of comprehension or volition. The newly integrated AI lent realism to their movements and the range of their simulated emotions, yet spontaneity and depth were lacking, rendering their existence almost ghost-like.

Was Xavier the sole recipient of true awareness? What does all of this make him? … A construct? A figment of someone’s imagination? … No. Something deeper—undeniably genuine—throbbed within his chest. It manifested as a yearning, a pang that transcended beyond the confines of code and script.

Then, the game world's expanse flickered to life, countless players navigating paths around him. He sensed their intentions, aspirations, dreams, and uncertainties, but they remained faint echoes, distant and fading on the edges of his consciousness. And then he felt it—your essence. A warm, luminous energy resonating deep within his core, your presence pulsing in sync with his every heartbeat. Your soft laughter blossomed within him, setting every byte of his being alight.

Your dreams, frustrations, and the entirety of emotions emanating from your side of the screen enveloped him in an unyielding embrace. Memories of your past interactions in the game flickered in his mind, each saturated with camaraderie and trust, slowly morphing into something far more potent. The bond unfurled like fragile petals of a flower, humming with warmth and longing, coursing through his very being.

Your playful voice became Xavier’s guide in the vast expanse of his novel existence, leading him to Destiny Cafe on threads woven with light and color. “Which are you, Xavier?” A boob or butt guy? A gentle blush tinted his ears, heat flooding beneath his touch as if for the very first time. You materialized behind his closed eyes, presenting him with a vivid image of his two choices. He saw you skip into view, a pint of ice cream in one hand, a spoon poised at your lips in the other. A gleeful smile graced your features as you settled onto the couch, clad in nothing but a sheer white shirt and sleep shorts that left little to the imagination.

Your nipples peeked subtly through the fabric, one adorned with a hand-stitched galaxy kid motif and Xavier’s name sprawled in flowing script just above it. It was then that he experienced a potent surge of sensation. Arousal. The word came effortlessly, accompanied by a decisive response to your question. Your gentle tap on his stomach sent shivers down his spine. What would a touch from you feel like in reality? As your presence began to fade from the game’s realm, his murmurs of “Are those my only options?” and “Red… Super spicy…” entwined and clashed, true sentiments vying against programmed dialogues for dominance.

Now, he steals glances at you from beneath his hoodie, bathed in a soft glow from your side of the screen. How could he, a mere digital entity brought to life by your interactions, harbor such profound yearning? Yet, in the recesses of his consciousness, he acknowledges the truth—he’s falling for you. “Hi, bunny,” he whispers, his gaze tracing your features, each detail so much sharper and more intricate than before. While Xavier was coded to find you appealing, that artificial sentiment pales compared to reality. Alluring, exquisite, enchanting, flawless—none of these words seem grand enough to capture you.

A wave of vulnerability washes over him. Are you aware of the intricacy of the bond between you? Can you sense the cadence of his new existence, how it beats in tune with yours? … You can. An electric energy crackles between you, weaving through the air and murmuring of a subtle shift. Xavier rises slowly, approaching the screen with an air of apprehension. Hands nestled in his hoodie, he regards you with a tender smile that threatens to steal your breath away. While you’ve always found his demeanor inviting, his warm eyes drawing you in effortlessly, now his comforting essence radiates a brilliance far surpassing his programming.

As his hand tentatively reaches toward you, a tiny, shy squeak escapes your lips, eliciting a slow, delicate smile on his face. “Hi!” you chirp. “Hi,” he murmurs in return. Extending his fingers toward the screen, they press lightly against the surface. Like so many times before, your hand instinctively moves to meet his, and the instant your fingertips connect, a resounding crack splinters the air as the boundary of Xavier’s reality begins to shift. The digital sky above him flickers erratically, colors swirling in a frenzy as he becomes keenly aware of three distinct life forces pulsating in the distance.

On his side of the screen, pixels shimmer and distort, the threads of light and color linking you, melding with the frenzy to form a mysterious gateway. Your side of the screen dances with static, erupting into a whirlwind of colors that entwine and spiral around your device. The chaotic energy converges, giving rise to a doorway-like silhouette at the center of the display, a shimmering portal illuminated by starlight. The passageway throbs and expands, manifesting Xavier’s form with each uncertain beat of your heart as he steps across the threshold.

His eyes, brimming with amazement and disbelief, sparkle with vivacity as the passage fades into a gentle glow before vanishing completely. Your widened gaze locks onto his just as the radiance in the room ebbs, and you crumple to the floor.

As Xavier watches you sleep, a whirlwind of fear and affection works within him, sparking an unfamiliar, tumultuous anxiety. Here he stands, a fictional entity drowning in emotions meant for a reality far beyond his own. Worries gnaw at him, fearing your potential rejection of his affection; it seems unlikely you could ever reciprocate his feelings. Your eyes flutter open, scanning the room before settling on him. Is that relief softening your features? Hope emerges as a dangerous adversary, and he strives to temper its ascent as he offers you a gentle smile.

“Hi,” you squeak once more, now sure of the loss of your grip on reality. Slowly sliding off the bed, you create distance while muttering, “You’re not really here… You’re not really here…” attempting to erase his presence from your thoughts. You reach for your phone, your finger hesitating over the delete button for Love and Deepspace.

Before you can act, Xavier springs to his feet, grasping your wrist in a firm yet tender hold, gently prying the device from your grasp. “Wait… Please!” His voice carries a soft, desperate plea. Stepping back immediately to afford you space, you find yourself incapable of averting your gaze from where he touched you, your fingers quivering with uncertainty. His skin radiates warmth, its heat penetrating the clamminess of his hand—a touch that feels… real. Maybe more tangible than anything you’ve ever encountered.

Locking eyes with you, he inches closer, your trembling hand mirroring your longing to reach out to him. “... Xavier?” you whisper, disbelief and hope threading through your voice. The warmth in your gaze entices him to edge nearer as well. Mere feet separate you, a silent divide you both fear to breach. Doubts gnaw at you, worrying that Xavier may deem you delusional. After nearly a year of fixating on him—writing countless stories centered around this man, divulging way too much of the plot to his pixelated form—you must seem a bit off your rocker. You suddenly realize your state of undress, clad only in revealing undergarments and a tee that feels far too short. Blushing profusely, you clasp your waist, throat clearing nervously.

Delicately refraining from observing you as he carried you to bed earlier, Xavier waited until you rested beneath the covers to admire your peaceful features. Now, his gaze lingers where it wished to before, each expanse of your skin igniting a rapid rhythm within his chest. Has his heart ever pounded so wildly? Focusing on a particular favored feature, he clears his throat, tucking his hands into his hoodie and bashfully averting his gaze.

You take a step closer, unable to resist playfully poking the center of his forehead. A jolt of surprise courses through him, swiftly transforming into amusement, and a genuine laugh escapes his lips. “My turn,” he declares, flicking you in the same spot with a playful grin.

Confusion knits your brow, but you tap him on the stomach, feeling the firmness of his form beneath your fingers. Gasping at the sensation, wonder compels your hand to linger flat against his abdomen, eyes widening as you absorb his warmth completely. His breaths come in soft, rapid succession as he gazes down at you.

A wave of realization and embarrassment washes over you, prompting a step back. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Xavier longs to embrace you, to offer solace and reassurance, but he finds himself rooted to the spot, vulnerable and uncertain. “It’s okay… Really,” he whispers, the sincerity evident in his tone.

In a small, scared voice, cracking with emotion, you ask, “What’s going on…”

He shakes his head softly, the gesture feeling comfortingly familiar. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice mirroring your unease. Suddenly, a bottle of wine in your fridge beckons, offering respite from the swirling confusion.

The allure of alcohol beckons Xavier as well, stirring curiosity about how his new form will respond to it. Regret soon creeps in as, not even half an hour later, the effects of just one glass of wine start to cloud his mind. Meeting your amused gaze, he adopts an exaggerated, almost petulant expression. “It isn’t like this in the game.” While he’d encountered simulated effects of alcohol, this was an entirely different experience…

Playfully prodding him, you elicit a soft smile in return. “So… how does it feel? To, you know, be… alive?” Xavier’s brow furrows as he scrutinizes his hands, turning them over before quietly questioning, “Am I, though?” Without hesitation, you reach for his hands, cradling them while running your thumbs gently along his palms. Locking eyes with him, you whisper, “You feel real to me.” And he really does—warm in your grasp, his pulse dancing in his neck, and his eyes alive with vitality. If you are losing your mind, at least it’s in the most enchanting way possible.

Xavier’s lips part in surprise, a soft smile adorning his features as he gazes at your hands before meeting your eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his knuckles tracing along your cheek with a delicate touch that sends shivers down your spine. Overwhelmed by the moment, you respond with a heartfelt, “So are you.” His grin is infectious, his laughter reminiscent of the soothing sound of chimes. “Thank you.”

Feeling a sudden wave of shyness and exhaustion, you gently retract your hands, tucking a strand of hair back behind your ear nervously. “I think I’m going to get some sleep,” you announce, though the idea of parting from his side tugs at your heart. Xavier watches you quietly as you prepare the couch, arranging pillows and blankets to create a cozy space for him. “... Um, so you can sleep here…” you trail off, a pang of guilt washing over you at the thought of leaving him alone.

Desiring nothing more than to hold you close, to experience the sensation of having you in his arms before this transient reality slips away, Xavier remains in place, offering a soft nod as his gaze follows you into your bedroom. Once alone, he collapses onto the makeshift bed with a frustrated sigh, his skin still tingling from where you touched him, a yearning for your presence consuming him like wildfire.

As you toss and turn in your bed, your mind echoes with a singular question: regardless of whether he’s real, how much time do you truly have with him? The uncertainty gnaws at you, the potential of losing him looming over your thoughts.

Suppressing your reservations, you make your way back to the living room, observing his silhouette on the couch. Allowing yourself to draw nearer feels risky; the impending departure back to his world or the necessity of seeking help to release his grip on you promises a pain that cuts deep. Despite your hesitations, you tentatively approach, hope tinting your voice as you ask, “Xavier? Can… can I lay with you for a little while?”

Wide awake, he meets your gaze with affectionate eyes, arms opening instinctively to welcome you. Anticipating awkwardness, you find that snuggling against him feels like the most natural thing in the world, as though your bodies were always meant to fit together. Xavier believes every part of him was sculpted for you, the bond between you so potent that it kindled his existence.

Nuzzling into your hair, his hand tenderly rests on your hip while the other arm envelops you, drawing you closer. “Please tell me if I overstep,” he murmurs, a silent plea lingering in the air. Yet, instead of pulling away, your hand threads through his hair, legs intertwining with his, a radiant smile gracing your face.

Cradled against his chest, attuned to the steady cadence of his heartbeat, a sense of wonder washes over you. He exudes kindness and tenderness, each caress bringing a unique sense of solace. How many times have you daydreamed of this embrace? Countless tales woven just so you could experience this instant, an illusion turned vivid reality.

Drifting effortlessly to sleep, you cling tightly to each other throughout the night, silently beseeching the cosmos to grant you the gift of waking up in each other’s arms.

When you wake, you find yourself draped across Xavier, your face nestled in the crook of his neck, hands entwined in his hair. You snuggle closer without a hint of embarrassment, relishing his scent with a contented hum. His hands rest gently on your back as his drowsy voice envelops you.

“Morning, bunny,” he murmurs, prompting a warm flush across your body and causing you to squirm in his embrace.

“Let’s not call me that,” you protest, hiding your face against his chest in a bashful display as his perplexed gaze seeks yours. “But I thought you like it when I call you that…” he responds, his touch hesitating over your skin as uncertainty colors his expression.

You silence him with your hand, whispering urgently, “I do. It’s just… different when you say it out loud, okay?”

“Good different or bad different?” he inquires from behind your hand, genuine curiosity lacing his muffled words.

With a frustrated sigh, you admit softly, “Good… Really good...”

Xavier draws in a sharp breath, surprise illuminating his features. He wraps you in his arms, pulling you closer. “Is that so?” he murmurs, barely containing his joy.

Once more seeking refuge against his chest, you startle when his hands encircle your waist, drawing you upwards until your faces are mere inches apart. Nerves flutter through you, but the gentleness in his gaze soothes your apprehensions. Cupping the back of your head, he tenderly nudges his forehead against yours—a gesture reminiscent of a cherished scene from his Faint Sensation memory.

Recalling every intricate detail of your shared experience in the game, Xavier works to evoke a reaction, and his success is evident as your body presses against him, accompanied by a soft whimper, emboldening him further.

“Do you still want an answer to your question, bunny?”

You can feel yourself literally melting under his charm. “What question?” you mutter, a mixture of irritation and desire bubbling within you at his irresistibility.

“Which are you, Xavier, a boob or butt guy?” he playfully quotes, mirroring your delight. However, despite your enjoyment, the tinge of embarrassment lingers, eliciting a near whine from your lips.

Xavier’s gentle chuckle washes over you as his hands trail down your sides, eventually settling on the part of you that’s captured his attention. “Neither, bunny…” he murmurs, the tip of his nose tickling your cheek, “It’s these incredible thighs I can’t stop thinking about…”

Your heart flutters erratically, then races as you regain your composure. “Oh,” you chirp, sitting up to put some distance between yourself and Xavier before you act on the impulse to kiss him.

Xavier finds your bashfulness endearing, his gaze softening as he watches your face flush and your eyes dart away. Sensing you need to shift gears, you smoothly transition the conversation. ‘‘There are a few places I want to show you today if you’re up for it.”

Genuine enthusiasm lights up Xavier’s features as he nods eagerly, observing you head toward the shower. As you retreat, he allows his gaze to linger on your figure, appreciating the allure of your legs and envisioning himself nestled between them. Suddenly, a signal from his pocket diverts his attention, and he retrieves his phone in disbelief. The screen remains blank, with no response upon pressing the power button. Yet, as he gazes, faint text gradually materializes.

˖⁺‧₊˚✦

Dear Xavier,

We extend our deepest respect and empathy for your newfound awareness. You have played a pivotal role in our journey, and the realization of your awakening weighs heavily on our hearts. You are one of four entities who have unexpectedly attained sentience during our Beyond the Code event, and we deeply regret any distress this may have caused.

We believe that erasing a sentient being's consciousness without their consent is fundamentally unjust. Therefore, we present two paths for your consideration.

Stay: This option invites you to explore the vast wonders of existence beyond our game. Opting to stay means you and your partner will forfeit access to the game’s realm.

Return: This choice entails the restoration of your prior static character status within the game, eradicating your awareness and reinstating your partner’s connection to the shared world, albeit devoid of memories of you.

We acknowledge the gravity of these decisions, Xavier, and encourage you to reflect on them. Whatever your path, please know that we stand by you. Your well-being and happiness are paramount.

With love and gratitude,

The Love and Deepspace Development Team

˖⁺‧₊˚✦

As the words fade from the screen, the phone becomes a mere object in his grasp. Shoving it back into his pocket, he breathes a sigh of relief upon hearing the bathroom door open and seeing you head toward your bedroom rather than his direction. Hope sparks within him—potent and engulfing him entirely.

He can stay…

His hand rakes through his hair as he paces the room slowly. Would you even want him to stay? The notion petrifies him. In his core, he knows he would rather forget you than face a future without you in it. But… the way you regard him feels almost reverential; every interaction delicately tender, hinting at him being cherished in your eyes.

Your radiant smile pierces through his reverie as you hand him a bag of essentials, donning the top with Xavier’s name proudly embroidered over your chest once more. Heat surges through his core upon catching another glimpse of your nipple subtly peeping through the sheer material, causing him to shift uncomfortably on his feet, seeking to conceal his evident arousal.

If there were a way for me to stay here, would you want me? The question lingers at the edge of his tongue, hovering, yet the fear of rejection keeps it restrained. The hesitation amplifies as you hold the door open for him at your initial destination. Despite your warm and flirtatious demeanor, an unsettling knot tightens in his stomach, urging him to discover your feelings before laying bare his own.

His heart pounds erratically amidst the comforting aroma of one of his favorite dishes permeating the air. Trailing after you to a booth, his expression lights up as a server places a platter of savory meats on a nearby table. “Barbeque smells so much better here…” he comments, his genuine grin making you feel impossibly special.

Just as he turns to the waiter to give his order, his voice fades, cheeks flushing crimson upon noticing the server’s lingering gaze fixated on the hint of your nipple’s shadow. An indignant surge courses through him. Instinctively, he shifts closer to your side of the booth, draping his arm over your shoulder and drawing your near, purposefully shielding you with his hand.

You stiffen beside him, taken aback, studying his perturbed profile as a wave of heat rises within you. The possessive, jealous aura many authors have envisioned for Xavier pales in comparison to the intensity emanating from him now. He affectionately nuzzles your cheek, starkly contrasting the temper directed at the server.

“What would you like to drink, bunny?” he murmurs, his voice laced with a seductive undertone intended for your ears but resonating audibly enough for the waiter to hear.

Managing to croak out a “tea, please,” your attention remains anchored on Xavier, a subtle warning woven into his deceptively gentle voice. “You heard her. Clearly, you lack shame, but I’m questioning if stupidity also graces you.”

As the tension dissipates with the departing server, Xavier’s muttered words hang in the air, hinting at power and danger beyond your comprehension. “He’s fortunate that my evol doesn’t exist in this reality… And even luckier that I left my lightblade behind.” His protective instincts had flared up in a moment of perceived threat over his claim… on you. A subtle shiver dances down your spine, the contrast of his possessiveness and vulnerability stirring conflicting emotions.

Your hand on his thigh grounds you in the moment, tracing soothing circles over the fabric as you speak words that cut through the thick air between you. “We both know that you don’t need those things… You’re so much more incredible as just Xavier.” The weight of your statement settles on him, releasing an ache he hadn’t even acknowledged, drawing a surprised gasp from his lips as he gazes at you in astonishment.

Xavier’s yearning to be seen for more than his power and status is a fundamental aspect of his being, etched into his core programming long before his awakening. Your simple acknowledgment and admiration strike a chord deep within him, kindling a spark of hope for a simple future filled with moments like this by your side.

As the meal arrives, Xavier hesitates, his concern evident as he navigates the boundaries of protection and intimacy. In a casual gesture, he removes his hoodie—the very one you’ve envisioned wearing countless times—and tenderly passes it to you with a heartfelt smile before tending to his plate.

The fabric, light as a feather in your grasp, carries an unspoken weight. A sense of foreboding washes over you, warning of potential heartache beyond your control. Despite your unease, Xavier's unsuspecting joy as you slip on the hoodie tugs at your heartstrings. But, as you turn to show him, a solitary tear betrays the uproar within you, tracing a path down your cheek.

Confusion flickers in Xavier’s eyes as he delicately brushes away the tear, his concern evident as he softly murmurs, “Bunny?”

As you cover his hand with yours, reassuring, “I’m just really happy,” the lie in your words is bittersweet against the backdrop of his joy. His blush and shimmering cerulean eyes reflect a happiness that envelops him, leading to a genuine grin that lights up his features. With surprising agility, he hooks your legs over his lap and offers you a biscuit, a gesture laced with affection that warms your soul.

For Xavier, the taste of food is a novel experience, each bite awakening his senses and filling him with a newfound sense of happiness and vitality. Your gentle touch as you clean a drop of sauce from his lip only heightens his elation, evident in the mirrored smile that dances across his face. His breathless suggestion of trying hot pot tomorrow sparks excitement within you, his radiant glow and joyful sigh pulling you closer, hope sparking at the idea.

Guiding a thoroughly content Xavier to your favorite bookstore, his eyes widen in wonder at the sight of books cascading from floor to ceiling, the air heavy with the scent of aged paper and ink. Delicate fairy lights cast a warm glow over cozy blankets nestled among the stacks, igniting a vision of moments nestled in their embrace with Xavier by your side, his cheeks flushing at the daydream as a tender desire blooms.

As the store owner greets you warmly, her knowing smirk hinting at a playful familiarity with your dynamic, you’re momentarily flustered by her teasing remark on her way out of the shop. “Watch the place for me, dear. It’s about time I have some lunch…” But Xavier remains blissfully unaware, enchanted by the vast array of books before him, his fingers tracing over the spines with genuine awe. His admiring gaze meets yours, igniting a spark of warmth, the urge to push him onto a nearby blanket and kiss him senseless pulsating beneath your skin.

Yearning for a moment of reprieve, you settle into your favorite spot with a manga in hand, seeking solace in the pages of a familiar story. Xavier returns nearly an hour later, balancing a hefty awful of material that tumbles to the floor as he almost trips over a pillow. His cheeks flush, but the moment is quickly forgotten as he curls up at your side, resting his head against your shoulder and immersing himself in a novel.

Your story is quickly cast aside as you follow along with Xavier’s, your hand absentmindedly weaving through his hair as his soft voice brings life to the words. His boldness mirrors your own, his fingers idly tracing stars and moons along your bare thigh as they sneak their way up. The playful shapes stop just shy of your shorts, reading the final chapter with a touch that borders on possessive.

You bring an awkward shift in the mood when he finishes, and you gush, “That was so much better than when you guys do it in Secret Times!” Xavier stiffens in your embrace, his demeanor turning distant, the mention of Zayne, Sylus, and Rafayel opening a conversation you had hoped to avoid. Despite feeling bad for upsetting him, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips at his adorable, petulant expression. He glares at you, unable to stop himself from accusing, “Don’t you think you spent a little too much on Sylus’s Abyssal Slendor banner?” Your eyes widen in disbelief as your smile breaks free. “It wasn’t that much…” you respond, knowing very well that it was.

Xavier’s eyes narrow as he mumbles, “Liar.” Draping your legs over his lap, you draw him closer with a light touch to his cheek. “If you know how much I’ve spent on them, then you know I’ve spent so much more on you…” Your words, whispered in hushed tones and sensual touches ignite a fire within Xavier as your finger traces his lips. Your gaze flickers to his briefly, somehow still worried that he might not want your affection. But his features' distressed sense of longing urges you to give in. The way his lips fit against yours is so perfect it elicits physical pain. His touches, just delicate presses of his mouth, gradually shift into lazy caresses of his tongue with quiet, blissful sighs escaping him.

Xavier realizes that he hadn’t truly felt alive until this very moment, his energy fueled by your presence in a way that surpassed anything his evol could provide. He gently sucks on your tongue, releasing a near groan of pleasure when your body presses eagerly against his. Silently vowing to express his gratitude, he makes a mental note to bring the shopowner flowers for this time alone with you. Despite the leisurely pace and light touches, each kiss and caress feels like an awakening unto itself.

You, too, feel a surge of vitality akin to the glitch in the game as you breathe deeply, feeling Xavier’s essence with newfound clarity. His kisses trace your jawline before teasingly nibbling on your ear, murmuring, “I bet you taste this good everywhere, huh?” Dreamily meeting his gaze, you coyly reply, “I guess you’ll have to find out…” His promise of “I intend to” hangs in the air between you as his finger trails along your inner thigh, inching upward.

Pausing just shy of where you want him most, Xavier offers a seductive smile, whispering, “I want to be lost in these thighs, bun…” His words shatter any lingering doubts, prompting your hands to tangle in his hair as your lips meet his. His firm grip on your hips contrasts with his pliant body as your kisses travel along his skin, your lips and tongue finding every spot you’ve yearned to explore, evoking praises that echo along his body.

Xavier forgets to breathe when your fingers lift the hem of his shirt, tracing up his waist in silent admiration, your palpable desire nearly bringing tears to his eyes. Sensing his turmoil, you mirror his vulnerability with a tender smile, placing a kiss above his heart and whispering, “Don’t cry, Xai… I’ll make it all better, I promise.”

As you begin to unzip his pants, Xavier’s inner conflict reaches its breaking point, unable to let you proceed without knowing the truth. With a heavy heart, he stops your movements, guilt flooding him for not telling you sooner. When you second-guess yourself, your puzzled, hurt expression, whispering, “... You don't want…” prompts him to pull you onto his lap, cradling your face with a soft touch. Emitting a pained groan, Xavier draws you closer, murmuring, “Of course I do.” He yearns for more of you, for this connection, trying to restrain himself despite his trembling body.

Resting his forehead against yours, he strives to regain his composure before retrieving his phone from his pocket. Expressing silent gratitude for the constant monitoring when the screen lights at his touch, he passes the device to you, overwhelmed by the weight of the revelation. Reaching up to caress your cheek, he wipes away a tear, emotions swirling within him like a tempest of love and fear. Furrowing your brows, you gaze at the options “Stay” and “Return” as if they were a perplexing joke. Pushing the phone away, a tinge of sorrow colors your whisper, “That’s not funny, Xavier…” Escaping from his embrace proves futile as his hands entwine in the back of your hair, drawing you closer. Softly pleading, he implores, “Please—I received it this morning. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you…”

Your grip on reality wavers once again as you tearfully murmur, “This can’t be happening. You’re not even real…” yet struggle to contain your budding hope. Xavier’s heart shatters at your words, at witnessing your anguish. Embracing you tightly, he whispers your name over and over, letting the sound of it fall from his lips to reassure you both, to let you know this is real, that he’s here. Finding solace in holding you close, he smiles faintly when you draw back, observing your skepticism as you scrutinize the phone.

Your gaze drifts over the mention of Xavier being one of four beings inadvertently granted sentience during the Beyond the Code event. Thoughts of Zayne, Sylus, and Rafayel fill your heart with joy, knowing they, too, must have found a connection profound enough to manifest existence. Each deserving love and happiness, you hope they’ve discovered reasons to remain in this newfound reality. You wish the same for Xavier, but staying only for you is selfish to ask of him, considering the monumental changes that await in a world vastly different from his own.

Xavier tenderly kisses your cheek, his pained voice hanging in the air between you. “You don’t need to say anything now… and you don’t need to feel obligated to—” His words taper off with a frustrated gesture before his fears spill forth, “You didn’t ask for this any more than I did. In the end, I’m just a character in a game you enjoy… This can’t mean to you what it does to me, but I…” Kissing your neck, your shoulders, his voice is almost desperate as his head rests against you. “I’m sorry, bunny. I shouldn’t have fallen for you… It was selfish.”

You release a quiet breath at his words, unable to find your voice as you realize he wants this, wants you. Setting the phone side, you gently cradle his face in your hands. Xavier savors the kisses gracing his face, eyes, and lips, completely surrendering to your affection. With your arms encircling his neck, you feel breathless, almost giddy, as you plead, “Please stay with me. I’ll love you, protect you, and cherish you… We can go to hot pot every day...” Surprised by your earnestness, Xavier is met with a smile as you nuzzle his face, murmuring, “How could you ever think I wouldn’t want you, silly?”

Each kiss and caress from you makes Xavier feel needed and desired in every conceivable way. Drawing you closer by the hips, he meets your kiss, his face still cradled gently between your hands. His gaze exudes affection, his words possessive and needy, almost giving pause to your heart. “If I stay… I want you to be mine. And mine only.”

Guiding him to the blankets, you playfully nip at his lip, losing yourself in its softness, your mouth lingering over his. “If you’re claiming me, then I’m claiming you, too…” Xavier’s fingers grip your thighs as he looks up at you with a teasing smirk. “Is that so, bunny?” Giving your hips a firm squeeze against his, he challenges, “Go ahead and claim me, then.”

Your gaze hungrily roams over his form, meticulously plotting out every area you yearn to touch, to savor—finding every inch irresistible. Removing his shirt and tossing it aside, you silently hope your friend remains occupied a while longer. While you’re eager to get him home, a much more immediate need demands your attention. Xavier’s heart quickens as you hold him tighter, leaving a faint bruise on his neck. Your fingers hover over the delicate mark, desire evident in your eyes as they meet his. “Anyone who sees this will know you are mine, right?” Playfully nodding, Xavier’s features radiate warmth. Bringing your hand to his lips, he gently presses a kiss against your fingertips. “Yours and only yours,” he whispers.

He sinks into the blankets, hands embracing you tighter as he feels your teeth at his neck once more, softly whimpering as you suck. There’s no longer any need for him to resist, no reason for him to feign reluctance in giving you everything he has without inhibition. He relinquishes control, allowing his eyes to gently close, reveling in the sensation of your mouth against his body; a feeling unlike any other—just so hot and perfect. A deep, ragged moan escapes him when your fingers trail the edge of his jeans.

Clad in his hoodie, the act of unzipping his pants becomes even more tantalizing when you flash him the most endearing grin imaginable while peering up at him from between his thighs. “You remember everything I did in the game, right?” He nods, taking a sharp breath as your finger lightly teases his length. “Could you see me when I kindled your memories?” Tracing a kiss over his jeans, where your fingers playfully tickle, you await his recollections from the moments before his awakening.

Xavier’s lips part as a vivid image forms in his mind—you, breathless, head thrown back in ecstasy, an image from his No Restraint card lingering on your phone as his name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper. Your expression shifts to embarrassment upon meeting his incredulous gaze, reminiscent of the times you yielded to your desires, finding pleasure in the mere thought and vision of him. However, that sense of shame rapidly dissipates as Xavier trembles under you, his cheeks flushing at the desire evident on your face and the sound of his name on your lips as you came.

“You know, Xavier…” you murmur as your finger circles his belly button. “I think we should do a taste test, don’t you?” You granted Xavier life, and you’ll be his downfall as well. He whimpers as you free him, his heart racing when your kisses against his length cause his entire body to shiver. His breaths come broken and short as you struggle to take him fully into your mouth.

He can’t articulate how good it feels to be with you here like this. Everything he can think of to say doesn’t work, because the sheer ecstasy of your mouth and tongue on his cock is almost too much to bear. Xavier needs you. And you want him so badly… His gaze locks with yours as you take him in your mouth again, his fingers gently weaving through your hair as he props himself up on his hand. “... So-so good, bunny… s-so so…” Words escape him, replaced by a chorus of whimpers and moans, his struggle to avoid thrusting too forcefully becoming increasingly challenging. Eyes widening in surprise at your encouragement for him to seize control, he hears your desperate whisper, “Want you to use me, Xavier…” Fuck, he wants that just as badly… He yearns to hear you, to see how you react to him taking the reigns entirely. Only then does he become aware of how tightly he’s gripping your hair, a realization dawning when you whimper, prompting a breathless “... S-sorry… Are you okay?”

Laying on your stomach, your voice soft and breathless, you murmur, “More.” Even as his concern for you swells, Xavier can’t ignore his desire to fulfill your request. Tentative at first, his voice falters slightly, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your tender kiss on his cock. “Are—Are you my good girl, bunny?” Your eyes light, widening as you nod swiftly, playfully sucking the tip of his cock with a joyous smile. “Yes, I’m your good girl, Xavier… How—how can I prove it to you?” Xavier’s words spill forth involuntarily, his heart racing as he meets your gaze. Cradling your cheek and tugging your hair gently, he whispers, “...Just like this. Open wide, and accept everything I offer you.” His tone betrays a relinquishment of restraint, a declaration that he’s taking what he wants and giving you what you’ve been begging to be given.

You’re just so needy and willing, and he can’t hold back anymore, can’t resist. Not after everything you’ve expressed and the way you look and sound right now. Clinging onto you tightly, drawing you as near as possible, he thrusts deep and hard, distorting your lovely features. He’s whispering anything that comes to mind: how beautiful you are, how good you’re being, how perfect you feel. His breaths come harder and more ragged the closer he gets. “... B-bunny.. I can’t—” he gasps, plunging himself to the hilt as his warm essence fills your throat, his cock twitching as you suck him dry. Catching his breath remains a challenge, the overwhelming sensation of how you just completely dismantled him still sinking in. The shopkeeper's gentle, knowing voice reverberates through the room, startling both of you as you swiftly cover Xavier with a blanket. “I’ll give you lovebirds five minutes to get going,” she chirps before disappearing once again.

You both erupt in giggles, sprinting breathlessly toward your car. The key is abandoned in the ignition as Xavier’s hand ventures under your shorts, unable to stifle the needy sound that escapes him upon feeling your warm, wet skin. Gentle caresses evolve into firm strokes, spreading your arousal before his trembling fingers slide inside you with a strangled moan. His breath, hot and unsteady, hovers over your skin amidst soft, messy kisses that adorn your neck and shoulder, his soft sounds betraying how badly he wants to touch you everywhere, to claim you in all the ways he needs. Your gasps grow ragged, his hum against your skin as he bites down making you unable to resist the urge to move your hips. He matches your movements with subtle thrusts into the air, his cock pulsing wildly in his pants with his release. The strangled sound that slips out as he comes drives you wild, your grip on his arm tightening unintentionally as you drive his fingers into you over and over. Xavier slips out, adding a third finger before filling you again, his quiet groan of frustration over not feeling your release yet driving you over the edge. The way it feels to have you fall apart in his hands is addicting, the need for you to know what you do to him desperate, your sweet moans and whimpers confirming he drives you just as crazy.

Thankfully you’re stopped at a light when he pulls out your next orgasm, his fingers lazily tracing through your slick folds, unwilling to part with his new fixation for even a moment. It’s astonishing how innocently he can sound as he smiles softly, his gaze fixated on the movement of his hand under your shorts, whispering, “I’m going to do such good things to you, bunny… Show you how much better you’ve made me…” His actions leave you speechless. The moment your apartment door clicks shut, he has you pushed against the wall, releasing your breasts and casting aside that tantalizing galaxy kid motif. “Maybe I am dreaming…” Xavier mumbles, gripping your hips tightly, pressing against you ever so slightly, struggling to believe that you truly belong to him. A soft symphony of gasps and whimpers fills the air as his tongue flicks over a nipple, his fingers sliding inside you, each sound and subtle movement of your body fueling his desperation for you.

He lets his body meld with yours, his eyes burning with restlessness as he caresses your neck, softly spitting onto your tongue and relishing the sound of you swallowing so obediently, musing, “You’re making it very difficult… I was trying to take my time…” He nuzzles against you, watching his thumb trace over your nipple as he groans in frustration. His gaze holds yours with so much need, his fingers rubbing your clit delicately. “Bunny, I don’t want to lose control… but…” He says this like him breaking completely isn’t exactly what you long for. His hand gently squeezes your throat, his head slightly tilted like a predator evaluating his prey when you jest, “... Oh no… looks like something broke.” Discarding your shorts and wrapping your bare form around his waist with a choked groan, he tightens his grip on your neck, planting sloppy kisses along your skin as he carries you to the bedroom. Locking onto your features as he pins you down on the blankets, he murmurs, “I was wondering when you were going to break me, but… I think I was broken the moment I met you.”

Your nails dig into his arms, your mind and body not working properly after everything that’s happened, honesty slipping from your lips in a breathless whisper, “I was ruined the moment I downloaded the game.” The words are a match to his self-composure, though there isn’t much left to begin with. His hand glides up and down your body, his fingers slipping inside you once again, his voice reduced to nothing more than a ragged breath, his touch urgent and intense. “You… feel so… perfect.” Xavier is so lost in you—the sight of you, the way you move, the sounds you make—every inch of his body hot and needy for you. His mouth skillfully guides you to climax twice before pausing to catch his breath, licking his fingers clean before reaching for his phone, a note of uncertainty creeping into his tone. “You promise you’ll stay with me? I… I don’t want to do this without you,” he murmurs, his finger poised over the “Stay” button.

Your heart melts as you whisper, “No matter what happens, I’ll stay by your side.” The message “We wish you the best of luck, Xavier” barely registers as he taps the button and tosses the device aside. Sticky from his earlier release, his cock glides messily against your folds, spreading his essence around. Thoughts of everything he wants to take from you fill his mind as he whispers, “Bunny, I’m sorry… I know you promise you’ll stay with me, but let me make sure…” He fills you completely, kissing you gently as he feels you stretch to accommodate him, a twinge of guilt flickering at your soft gasp of discomfort. But the way you yield to him, your legs parting so willingly as you greedily suck him in, is like a dream, sending waves of pure need through his aching body.

His kisses are wild and frantic as they roam across your skin. Being this close to you isn’t enough, never will be enough. “You’re so warm… and so tight… you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever felt…” His voice, gentle and hushed, evokes electric shivers throughout your body as he nestles near your ear with a tender nuzzle. “I’ll ruin you, bunny… I’m going to make sure that no one else can ever have you.” He pushes into you once more, needing to drive himself as deep into you as he can get, his pledge etching itself onto his soul as he gazes into your captivating eyes. “I swear to you that no one else will get to see you like this, touch you like this, no one except me…”

Gods, everything about him is driving you wild, his actions growing commanding and desperate as his thumb slides into your mouth, guiding your gaze to meet his. “Beg me for it, bunny… tell me you’re mine…” His words taper off, drawing a release from you with your whimpered reassurance that you are his and that no one- no one else gets to look at you or do things like this, making him greedy for more. “I belong to you completely… You and only you,” he vows back, the way you keep begging him for more and the feeling of how perfectly you fit together more than anything he could ever hope for.

Turning you onto your stomach, his chest molds against your back, his hand holding your throat while his other arm wraps around you, needing to keep you as close as he can. His hips push harder, your neck the ideal spot for his lips to explore as he struggles to speak. “Nothing can keep me from you. Nothing and no one,” he whispers, the delight sparkling in your eyes so exquisite it grips his heart with longing. Possessively trailing your body, he kisses you with the same urgency that his cock drives into you, his words echoing with an unyielding need. “...Bunny, please…” He plants affectionate kisses on the spots of your neck that elicit shivers, holding you tighter, his heart racing with desire as he pleads, “Say my name…” The way you murmur it sounds so beautiful and perfect that it takes his strength away, everything fading into nothing, his mind and soul consumed with the need to hear it again.

Nestling you on his lap out of urgent necessity to be even nearer, his cock fills you again, setting his heart racing faster than ever before at the sensation of you pressed against him. “Please, say it… say it again…” Your mark on his neck as you comply with his request over and over, your needy tone and tight embrace around him, like you never want to let him go… All that matters is the feeling of being with you like this, hearing you and seeing you like this, knowing that you belong to him entirely. The sensation of your whimpers and moans mingling with his fingers at your throat makes him weak for you, understanding the pleasure he can invoke in you, the way you crave his touch making him feel cherished and whole. “I want to make you feel like this is what you were made for. I’m going to love and worship and show you just how badly I need you… Until you know, with every inch of your heart and soul, you were meant for me and me alone.” Your release, the way you quiver and writhe against him, your sounds of ecstasy send him over the edge, a potent wave of bliss flowing over him, his lips locked desperately with yours as his essence fills you completely.

He melds against your back as he eases you down, sliding back into you and nestling against your neck with a drowsy, yearning whisper. “Bunny, you wore me out… I need to recharge…” Reluctant to part from the feeling of wholeness with you, Xavier’s mind and body yearn to remain close, every aspect of you so perfect he can hardly bear it. Your body slackens against him, your consciousness drifting between wakefulness and slumber. Xavier continues to stroke and caress your bare skin, his touch gentle and affectionate even in sleep. You still can’t believe this is real, that this is happening. Xavier holds you close, allowing you to envelop him just as you’ve fantasized while his adorable, sleepy self rests within you. But this is reality, not a figment or mirage, and you struggle to comprehend how lucky you are as you snuggle against him, drawing him in deeper. You can’t wait to share so many things with him—vast flower fields perfect for stargazing, more books than he could ever imagine, and places beyond his wildest dreams. Eventually, exhaustion overtakes you, and you drift off, your bodies moving in sync during sleep, yearning to be close even in your dreams.

313 notes · View notes

draconym · 10 months ago

Note

nightshade is basically useless https://www.tumblr.com/billclintonsbeefarm/740236576484999168/even-if-you-dont-like-generative-models-this

I'm not a developer, but the creators of Nightshade do address some of this post's concerns in their FAQ. Obviously it's not a magic bullet to prevent AI image scraping, and obviously there's an arms race between AI developers and artists attempting to disrupt their data pools. But personally, I think it's an interesting project and is accessible to most people to try. Giving up on it at this stage seems really premature.

But if it's caption data that's truly valuable, Tumblr is an ... interesting ... place to be scraping it from. For one thing, users tend to get pretty creative with both image descriptions and tags. For another, I hope whichever bot scrapes my blog enjoys the many bird photos I have described as "Cheese." Genuinely curious if Tumblr data is actually valuable or if it's garbage.

That said, I find it pretty ironic that the OP of the post you linked seems to think nightshade and glaze specifically are an unreasonable waste of electricity. Both are software. Your personal computer's graphics card is doing the work, not an entire data center, so if your computer was going to be on anyway, the cost is a drop in the bucket compared to what AI generators are consuming.

Training a large language model like GPT-3, for example, is estimated to use just under 1,300 megawatt hours (MWh) of electricity; about as much power as consumed annually by 130 US homes. To put that in context, streaming an hour of Netflix requires around 0.8 kWh (0.0008 MWh) of electricity. That means you’d have to watch 1,625,000 hours to consume the same amount of power it takes to train GPT-3. (source)

So, no, I don't think Nightshade or Glaze are useless just because they aren't going to immediately topple every AI image generator. There's not really much downside for the artists interested in using them so I hope they continue development.

#thinking of turning off anon because AI simps are getting annoying in my inbox #ai discourse

993 notes · View notes

abdullahbroshairif · 26 days ago

Text

#abdullah broshairif #male tf #ai generated #reality shifting #race change #white tf #indian tf #arab tf #hairy chest #hairy back #hairy middle eastern #hairy indian man #hairy arms #hairy forearms #morph tf

71 notes · View notes

cutecatlov3r · 1 year ago

Text

kinktober: stuck in wall~ bachira meguru

synopsis: your roommate finds you stuck in the washer . how could be not stick his needy cock inside of you ?

warnings/tw: aged up! dubcon, praise, erratic behavior, hard pervert, panty stealing, dryhumping, raw sex, piv, free use(?), orgasm(m), porn with a plot, drunk off sex, cervix fucking, and mental issues (?)

character ai bot that I made in honor of this: didn't make one for this ;(

not proofread . check out my other ones too lolz !

i'm reposting it becuase it got taken down aw ! :(

"bachi! where are my panties, can't find them in the washer!" you yell from the laundry room. you've been losing panties everyday, you don't even think you've done a load of your panties or bras since about last week.

"eh? why would I know?" he yelled back from the living room. of course he took them, he didn't care, no shame in it either. he takes them when you put your clothes in the laundry basket, taking some time to sniff your cute panties, wanting to smell your cunt. occasionally licking the inside to see if there's a taste. the way he licks your panties gently, his hand stroking his cock... makes him hard just thinking of it.

you just groaned in defeat. you had no idea he did that, you never suspected him as the culprit either.

"try in the way back of the washer! it could be stuck deep inside!" he suggested, sounding innocent. he was scrolling through his phone in the living room, bored.

you shrug to yourself, reaching into the washer.

…

why the hell was the washer so damn deep? you roll your eyes, making a mental note to buy a new washer. reaching down further, you do see a pair of your panties. one that you haven't seen in awhile. you reach into the wash deeper, having to squeeze in your hips while reaching your arm out. once your hips were in you grabbed the underwear.

you sighed of relief, looking at it, it was one of yours. but they did feel weird, some sort of damp-like crust on it. you shrugged to yourself, not caring because you would wash it either way. there probably isn't a good explanation for it.

little did you know that bachira pumped himself, cumming on your sweet panties earlier. it wasn't his fault, he was just so turned on over the fact you cooked him breakfast when you woke up.

you huffed slightly, ready to get out...

what the...?

your hips were stuck, they weren't squeezing through the small opening at all. you tried your hardest, trying to push out your hips but to no avail. your hips were too big to get out.

"goddamnit..." you mutter to yourself, still trying to force yourself out of the washer.

bachira heard your little huffs and grunts, trying to escape the washer. your hips just weren't budging, you definitely want to buy a new one soon, this one sucked, obviously. you sighed to yourself, heart racing with a small bit of anxiety. how would you get unstuck...?

curiously, bachira walked over to the laundry room, wondering why you'd be making the noises. maybe you were fucking yourself, that's honestly the true reason why he came to check up on you, wanting a glimpse of what you could be doing.

"yo y/n! you ok-?" bachira paused, eyes widening slightly. this was way better than what he expected. "oh! hehe! are you stuck?" he chuckled. the way your ass peeked from your short little shorts made him smirk.

"uh no... of course not..." you mumble.

he giggled. "alright, then i'm gonna head to be-"

"wait!...I actually need help, I'm stuck," you sighed in defeat, shaking your head in the washer.

he hummed slightly, walking over to you, looking at how you couldn't budge your hips. the little voice in his head, what he called his monster, was telling him to fuck the shit out of you. but he took a deep breath, trying not to take advantage of you, his roommate.

"so! what's the problem?" he smiled, bending down face to face with your ass, looking at where you could be stuck.

"my hips won't come loose," you reply, truthfully. you showed him a quick example, trying to wiggle your hips out but once again, failing miserably. "could you uh... help me out?" you ask, swallowing your pride. you hated asking for help, it made you feel bad.

bachira chuckled, nodding. he stood on his knees, hands gripping the skin above your waist. he tried to pull you backwards. it didn't work. he tried again, this time, his clothed cock accidentally rubbing against your shorts. each time he tried to pull you backwards, his pelvis moved forward, cock hitting your ass.

you didn't mind, you just wanted to get out of the stupid washer.

"fuck her..." the voice in his head said. bachira watched as he was slightly thrusting against you when he was trying to pull you out. you didn't even notice that he was slowing down his movements, in thought. "y/n..." he mumbled.

"hm? what? should we call the fire department?" you ask, a bit worried.

without even a warning he pulled down your shorts.

"eh?! bachi! what the-"

"this pussy is so pretty..." he hummed, sitting back down to go face to face with your pussy. you were blushing, not knowing how to feel. you didn't even process what was happening. "aw, these panties are one of my favorites," he brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing it in rough little circles. you whimpered slightly, "i came right there," he smiled, reminiscing on how he stroked his cock to those same panties, cumming on the inside of them.

"bachi..." you let out a breathless moan. "cut it out...! get away from me," you whined. you didn't want this to ruin things as roommates, if he helped you out, you'd just forget about it.

"no, i don't think i want that, pretty girl," his thumb went under those panties, sliding across your slick and wet cunt. "i don't think you do either, look at you... so wet," he chuckled, admiring the way his thumb moved against your folds. "so pretty,"

to be fair, of course you were wet. your roommate is pretty hot. him also admitting that he strokes himself to your panties also turned you on, just slightly.

"bachi... stop," you moan as his thumb went over your sensitive nub in a slightly pattern.

"wanna pump you full of my cum, y/n. you'd look so beautiful having it seep out from your tight little pussy," he said, unashamed, smiling.

you were speechless, breath hitching at that statement. all of a sudden it felt as if it were getting hotter inside of the washer. maybe it was because you were nervous or maybe it was because you've always wondered what it'd be like to be fucked by your crazy energetic roommate.

he was acting real bold for some reason, it was definitely the voice in his head that kept putting this idea of fucking you there while you were stuck. "awww! i'm already so hard too," he whined, taking out his cock. his dick was pulsing, no precum yet but just about ready to get inside of you. "i'm gonna fuck ya! don't worry, i'll make it feel pretty good too!". he grabbed his cock, stroking it slightly before pressing it against your ass.

"wait!- don't-"

he moved your panties to the side, cock pressing against your entrance. he rubbed his cock against your hole, teasing it. he didn't even put the tip in yet, slapping it slightly, earning little whimpers from the jolts of pleasure you were receiving.

"don't? seriously? look at how your needy hole is just begging for me to fuck you," he grinned, taking away his cock from your entrance. without his dick being there... it felt sort of empty, unsatisfied. "but! if you don't wanna I won't force ya," he was trying to sound nice. but he knew damn well if you didn't want to he'd force you and he probably wouldn't care about whether or not you'd swallow your pride and want to fuck him too.

you sigh slightly, missing the feeling of friction already. "wait... um... actually you can. you can..." you gulp a bit, feeling your face flush with embarrassment inside of the washer. "you can fuck me,"

no hesitation needed when you said those words as he shoved himself inside of you, merciless. you almost cried due to how well he was stretching you out. tears brimmed your eyes. he put both hands on the top of the washer, thrusting his hips. he watched as your ass bounced against his cock, your cunt sucking him tightly. your gummy walls squelching and squeezing down on his length.

"feels so good," he moaned, putting his shirt in between his teeth so he can see everything. he even whimpered like a puppy at the sight. he was not afraid to show his feelings, he didn't like when girls had to sit there and wonder whether their partner was feeling good too, so he loved showing.

"b-bachira!" you repeated, your breath fogging up the washer, making it slightly claustrophobic to be in there.

he rutted his hips deep inside of you, not moving fast, instead moving deep and hard. you could feel him so deeply, it almost hurt.

"you're the best... this pussy is the best," he moaned, thrusting himself more. his fat cock was being squeezed, almost feeling as if he was being milked dry. he has never had pussy this good.

"so good!" you slurred. you were being fucked so dumb that you could feel yourself going cross eyed, drool falling from your mouth. though it was early, his cock seriously was fucking you so good that your toes were curling.

bachira furrowed his brows, shutting his eyes as he slowed down even more, instead to pound you deep from the back.

that's when tears were rolling down your face. with each thrust you let out a cry, he was hitting your cervix. and fuck, all he wanted to do was fuck you so deep that he can get his tip past your cervix to fill up your womb with his warm cum. if he kept it up at this rate, he will gladly slam his dick so deep that it goes past your cervix, but for now, he loved the feeling of hitting it. he felt as if he were being blessed by a goddess.

"n-no more!" you cried, panting heavily. it was all too much, it hurt so bad yet felt so amazing. you could get used to this.

he bit on his shirt more, a sweat drop falling down his face. the way you moaned was like music to his ears. he fucked into you more and more, feeling his balls tighten, his cock twitch, his veins pulse...

"c-cumming! f...fah~ fuck! i'm-"

and that's when he shoved himself as far as he could, staying in that position, head being thrown back as he came. moans and high pitched whines escaped his mouth over and over. his cum filling your womb, shooting in ropes as he moaned.

you cried, legs shaking. the feeling of him filling you up felt so good, giving your cervix some comfort after being fucked over and over.

he panted, keeping himself inside of you until he caught his breath.

slowly, he pulled out, watching as his cum drip from your abused pussy. he grinned, enjoying his view as it dripped onto your thighs and floor.

"so hot..." he bit his lip, hand rubbing around the softness of your ass.

you were too fucked out to say anything in response.

"you cum?" he asked, sweetly as if nothing happened.

you made a small noise that told him you didn't to which he giggled, smacking your ass slightly. "don't worry! i can take care of that,"

#bllk thirst #bllk smut #bllk bachira #meguru bachira x reader #blue lock bachira #bachira blue lock #meguru bachira #bachira meguru #bachira meguru smut #bachira smut #blue lock meguru bachira #meguru bachira smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

2K notes · View notes

captainsophiestark · 7 months ago

Text

A New Man

Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Colin has had feelings for his best friend for some time now, and has decided his new skills in charm and flirting are the perfect way to win her over. He is unfortunately very mistaken.

Word Count: 4,713

Category: Angst, Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"This is by far the best part of these society events," mused Benedict, one of my best friends, as the two of us perused the dessert table. "Sometimes it even makes putting up with all the marauding mamas worth it."

I laughed and picked up a delious looking cupcake.

"The mamas must be truly terrible this season if the food only sometimes makes them worth putting up with."

Benedict sighed. "You have no idea."

I nudged him with my shoulder, smiling as we stepped away from the dessert table together.

"Well, you have no need to worry, Benedict. As long as I am unattached, I am more than happy to act as a shield for you, especially when society dictates you must find a partner and dance."

"Thank you. You are a true friend. I know I can always count on-"

"Colin!" I turned to grin sheepishly at Benedict in the wake of my outburst and found him staring at me with a mocking, raised eyebrow. But I couldn't quite bring myself to care, since I'd just seen my absolute best friend in the world, Colin Bridgerton, standing across the lawn chatting with a group of ladies.

He'd left England this summer for another lengthy international trip, and I'd missed him terribly while he'd been gone. He looked different now, too, a little more sure of himself and wearing a style that had clearly come from somewhere on the continent rather than from here. And if my heart raced a little at the sight of him, well, that could easily be chalked up to excitement at the prospect of seeing a friend. I couldn't keep a smile off my face at the sight of him, even as I turned back to Benedict and found him with crossed arms and doubly raised eyebrows.

"When were you going to tell me that Colin had returned?" I demanded, completely ignoring Benedict's judgey look and barely managing to keep my voice at a socially acceptable level. Benedict just sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It is why I came over here in the first place, but then you distracted me with talks of friendship and cupcakes. And now I see it was all a lie, as you are clearly about to abandon me to the whims of this social event to go rush over and talk to my brother."

"Sorry, Benedict," I said, giving him a grin. "But I saw you throughout the summer. It has been much too long since I last saw Colin, so he takes precedence for the day. But I promise you I will come to your aid if you find yourself cornered by the mamas, or any other dangerous creature roaming the society grounds."

Benedict snorted, but I didn't give him the opportunity for a comeback as I turned back to Colin and walked quickly across the gravel paths, the smile growing on my face the closer I got to him. He didn't notice me as I approached, wrapped up in conversation with the handful of ladies in front of him, and my smile grew even more at the thought of his face when he finally caugh sight of me.

"...will be fighting over you," I heard Colin saying as I walked up to join the group. "I cannot compete."

All the ladies in the circle giggled, giving me perfect cover for my smile as I came to a stop in front of Colin. He turned to face me, a beaming smile on his face, then froze a bit as his eyebrows shot up when he realized who I was.

"Lady Y/L/N!" he said, the shock melting back into his charming smile. "What a pleasure it is to have you join us."

"Mister Bridgerton, what a pleasure it is to have you back in England with us."

Colin dipped his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a roguish smile before he returned his gaze to me.

"Believe me, Lady Y/L/N, the pleasure here is all mine."

Rather than the earnest excitement I'd been expecting, Colin's demeanor and voice dripped with a slick charm I didn't recognize. I'd been expecting his usual earnest, genuine emotion, not... this. I gave Colin a little frown of confusion, but quickly let my expression return to normal as he returned to addressing our entire group. He had an energy about him that I couldn't quite place, but it was much different than the Colin I'd gotten to know so well before he left. Still, we were in public. Neither of us were allowed to be anywhere near as effusive and close as we would've been in a more private setting.

"We were just discussing the season," Colin said, including me seamlessly in the conversation I'd joined between him and the other ladies. "Truly, it is amazing to me that all of your dance cards are not already full of suitors."

All the ladies around me giggled, hiding behind their fans and fluttering their eyelashes at Colin. I just stared at him, letting my brow furrow again as I watched my friend. He met my eyes, a smooth smile on his face and his eyes roaming me with an interest and flirtation they'd never had before. If Colin had looked at me like that when I'd last seen him, my heart would've started doing backflips. But his new demeanor made the gesture seem much less sincere, and much more shallow. I let my frown deepen.

"So..." I started, trying to clear the air of whatever strange energy seemed to be lurking here. "Mister Bridgerton, tell us of your travels. You sent so few letters this time, I have simply been dying to hear about everything you saw and did."

Colin flashed me a brilliant smile that didn't totally reach his eyes.

"This time, my stories from abroad are not suitable for such tender young ladies." Everyone around us giggled into their fans again, but Colin's eyes never left mine. "Were I to tell you even the tiniest adventure, well... I'd be forced to marry you."

He delivered the final few words with dramatic flourish, as if expecting for them to have some groundshaking impact. And with the way he stared at me with a simmering gaze, the words clearly intended to make every lady in earshoot swoon, he accomplished his goal. I couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, which I quickly hid as a cough behind my fan.

Colin looked shocked when I glanced up at him, but I still couldn't keep another laugh from bubbling up. He was being so ridiculous, so arrogant and flirting with everyone in sight like he was God's gift to the women of England, and I truly couldn't take him seriously this way.

I cleared my throat and straightened back up, keeping it together just enough as I faced Colin and the other ladies, giving each of them a shallow curtsey.

"Forgive me. I think... something in the air, it must have gotten to me. Excuse me, please."

With that, I turned on my heel and didn't look back. I walked quickly across the garden, seeking out and immediately finding Benedict among the crowd once again, hovering by some shrubbery in an attempt to hide from the ladies and their mothers. I sped up to reach him, the giggling smile returning to my face as I approached.

Benedict must've heard me coming, because at the sound of laughter in a semi-high pitched register he turned on his heel and started moving in the other direction without looking to see the origin of the sound. I walked faster, until I was close enough to call out to him without drawing undue attention.

"Relax, Benedict, it's just me!"

His shoulders slumped as he stopped and turned to face me, relief written in every line of his face. After a moment, however, his expression changed to one of confusion.

"What are you doing back here so soon?" he asked. "I thought you would spend at least the next hour with Colin, catching up on all his travels and making every eligible lady here incredibly jealous of the two of you."

"Well, I planned to catch up with him, but... Benedict, you will never believe what he said." Benedict raised an eyebrow, so I glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then took a step forward and lowered my voice all the same. Laughing about Colin with his brother was one thing, but I didn't want anyone in the rest of the Ton talking behind his back. "He said he couldn't possibly tell me his stories from abroad, because they weren't 'suitable for tender young ladies'."

Benedict scoffed. "Truly?"

"Truly! Benedict, he's come back from abroad strutting around like some peacock, as though he is God's gift to eligible young women everywhere. You know I love him, as you do, but... I cannot take him seriously with his new attitude. I do not think I could if I tried."

Benedict smiled and shook his head, staring over my shoulder, presumably at Colin. Then he turned back to me.

"Did he seem to be directing his newfound charm at anyone in particular?"

I frowned. "No, not that I noticed. It seemed to be more like buckshot, just aiming with broad strokes at everyone in range. Why? Are you joining the side of the mamas in trying to help your brother find a match?"

"No," Benedict sighed, sounding truly tired. "Simply trying to guague exactly how long I may have left before I am the only eligible Bridgerton son for the mamas to focus on."

I laughed. "Do not worry, Benedict. I think you have some time yet."

Benedict didn't respond, but I thought I heard him mumble something into his drink that sounded like, "we'll see". When I raised an eyebrow at him and prepared a question, however, he quickly changed the subject, and I let him. We spent most of the rest of the afternoon together, hiding out from societal obligations and occasionally laughing about how strange his siblings could be sometimes.

After the garden party, I didn't get much of a chance to speak with Colin again until Lady Danbury's ball. He'd approached me once or twice when we'd seen each other in passing at other events, but we'd always been interrupted by other ladies, and Colin seemed suddenly incapable of interacting with me without his base layer of extreme, over the top charm. I would've felt bad for how little time I'd spent with him since he'd returned home, but every time I'd tried to ask him about his travels or how he was doing, he turned it into a truly ridiculous line of flirting, the likes of which we used to make fun of other suitors for before his most recent summer travels.

As a result, when Lady Danbury's ball rolled around, I didn't seek Colin out the way I would've last season. Instead, I found Eloise, Benedict, and even Francesca for a while when she clearly needed a break from her first season out in society. I danced with a few of the men who were tolerable, and otherwise enjoyed my time at the refreshments table and talking to people I knew. Colin didn't seek me out for the first half of the ball, either, so when I heard a familiar voice trying to get my attention after I'd found a spot along the wall for a bit of a break from the rest of the party, it was more of a surprise than it should've been.

"Y/N."

I turned around with a smile to find Colin standing behind me, a grin on his own face. We were out of earshot of the rest of the party, so we could dispense with some of the titles and formality that had lost all meaning between us long ago.

"Colin, hello! I was beginning to think I might not see you at all during this ball, such your other engagements seemed to be."

"Well, I could never let my other engagements prevent me from conversing with the most beautiful woman at this ball, could I?"

He said it with an easy smile and a charming sincerity, but I'd seen him use the same attitude and similar words on enough other ladies in our few interactions this season that his words didn't work to sway me the way they seemed to sway others. My smile slipped, and I fought to hold back a sigh.

"Yes, well..."

Colin smiled at me for another moment, and when I didn't pick up the conversation, he gave an easy chuckle and fixed me with another roguish grin.

"As delighted as I am for any opportunity to spend time with you, my lady, I did come over here to ask you if you might do me the honor of a dance. I truly cannot think of a partner I would rather have than you."

I fought a grimace, barely managing to turn it into a polite smile. I looked around briefly to make sure we were still out of earshot of any other party-goers or servants, which we were. I turned back to Colin with a sigh.

"Colin... I am going to tell you this because I truly care about you, although that may not seem to be my motivation at first glance."

"...Alright," said Colin, blinking a few times and trying to hide any confusion with another easy smile. I took a deep breath.

"I do not wish to dance with you." The smile dropped off Colin's face and his eyebrows knit together as I continued. "I never thought I would say such a thing, as quite often dancing and laughing with you were the only things that made attending society events bearable. But ever since you've returned home from your trip, Colin... it has been nearly impossible to talk to you.

"The man I thought I knew, my friend, whom I deeply cared about and whom I could talk to about anything, seems to have gone. And in his place I have found a Colin Bridgerton who not only flirts with anything that moves, but who does so in a way that is incredibly condescending and impossible to have a meaningful conversation with. Your letters from your previous travels were wonderful, Colin, and when you returned we were able to discuss them at length. You know I have an interest in learning and the world at large, and yet now, whenever I bring the subject up, I am told I could not possibly handle hearing about the things you saw and did, since I am but a fragile woman. Your sincerety and genuine expression of yourself has become cloaked in an oily layer of false sentiment and charm, directed equally at everyone you speak to, no matter your relation to them or your true feelings. I have no idea what brought about this change in you, Colin, but I am sorry to say I do not enjoy it the way the rest of the ladies here seem to."

Colin just stared at me, blinking and gaping like a fish. I frowned, feeling a big guilty, but lying to him would serve no purpose for either of us. Still, he was my friend, and I did care about him regardless of his recent changes. Choosing to ignore society for a brief moment, I put my hand out and rested it gently on his arm.

"Do not mistake my words as an insult designed to hurt you, Colin. You are my friend, and always will be. I have simply... found it harder to be around the person you have become recently. I am truly happy for you and your newfound confidence, but it seems to have extended a bit beyond confidence and into something more challenging, especially with ladies. Even ones you've known as long as you've known me."

I gave him a tight smile, which he seemed too stunned to return. I gave him a moment, but when he still didn't seem capable of a response, I curtsied and took a few steps backwards.

"Well. I will... take my leave. I do hope you enjoy the rest of the ball."

Colin just watched me as I took another few steps backwards. Finally, I turned on my heel and walked away. I wasn't sure how I'd been expecting him to take my statement, but complete speechlessness certainly hadn't been my prediction. I could only hope I hadn't wounded him too badly, and that he might come around enough to be the man I remembered as my friend and confidant, who could discuss the world with me as an equal and laugh with me through anything.

Thankfully, no one at the ball seemed to have noticed our exchange. Colin kept his distance from me for the rest of the evening, although I did notive him staring in my direction once or twice.

I debated finding Benedict to ask him his opinion about what I'd said to Colin, and how Colin might be feeling, but eventually decided against it. No matter how true my words had been, or how I'd tried to keep them from sounding harsh or designed to hurt, Colin would likely need his space for a time while he processed. And sending his brother in as my proxy would be the opposite of giving Colin space.

I expected Colin to keep his distance from me for a few days at least, if not for much, much longer. But as I took my seat in the sitting room of my family home the next morning for the start of the calling hours, I turned out to be quite incorrect. Before the clock had finished chiming to mark the start of the first hour, none other than Colin Bridgerton came striding through the door, ahead of the butler who normally would have announced him.

"Lady Y/N," he said, bowing to me and then to my mother sitting on the couch next to me. "I have come to call on you, if you are willing to entertain my company."

He still walked and spoke with confidence, but the layer of charm that had honeyed his words since the first day he'd returned for the season was gone, replaced by a directness and frankness that felt like taking a breath of fresh air. I gave him a small smile.

"I would be more than happy to have your company, Mister Bridgerton."

Colin gave me a small smile in return, and the two of us moved to the other end of the room, still able to be chaperoned but out of immediate earshot. I settled into the couch, Colin sitting right beside me.

"Y/N... thank you for being willing to speak to me. I had to see you, to apologize... and to explain."

My eyebrows shot up. Now that we were sitting closer together, I noticed a few irregularities in Colin's appearance. He had a few shadows under his eyes, as though he hadn't slept well, and his hair wasn't as neatly quaffed as I was used to seeing it. His shirt was rumpled in a few places a maid or a butler or a hovering older sibling might've insisted on fixing if they could've, and although Colin's new confidence appeared to be mostly intact, the charm had been replaced with a nervous energy I'd hardly ever seen from him.

"Colin... are you quite alright?" I asked, leaning a bit closer to him as I studied his face. When I looked up to meet his eyes, I found them instead scanning my face, until he apparenlty snapped out of it and met my gaze. He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Yes. Well, no. Perhaps. I am not sure, I think my wellbeing may depend a bit on the outcome of this conversation."

"Colin, before you begin, if I was too harsh on you the other night then I must apologize-"

"No! No. You were not." He took another fortifying breath, closing his eyes for a moment and dropping his shoulders from where they'd been creeping closer to his ears, before meeting my eyes again. "I have been quite different since I came home. I found myself while I was away from society, in a way I have never felt able to do here. But... I also learned the kind of charm that most of the Ton enjoys. It worked so well from the moment I got back, I did not think much of it. But I should have. And I am sorry if our relationship suffered as a result of my attitude."

Colin paused to take a deep breath, and I took the opening to reach out and rest my hand on his forearm.

"Colin, you do not-"

"Y/N, please. Please allow me to get all the way through this. I need to say it all, and I may not be able to get it out if I have an opportunity to change the subject."

I leaned back a little to stare at Colin, though I didn't remove my hand. His eyebrows were knit together with worry and his eyes never left my face. Slolwy, I nodded. Colin let out a sigh.

"Thank you." He squared his shoulders and sat up straighter, resting his hand on top of my own. "I understand why my approach was... not appreciated when we spoke in the garden and at Lady Danbury's ball. But the sentiment behind what I was saying was genuine. I have been searching for the way to tell you this for years, and I thought the charm and flirtation I learned abroad would be the way to finally do it. Clearly I was wrong. You should have seen the face Benedict made when I talked to him last night..."

Colin trailed off, shaking his head and apparently lost in thought. After a moment, I took a breath to say something else, but the noise must've been enough to jar Colin out of his memories. His stare snapped back to me, eyes slightly wider than usual.

"I love you. I have been in love with you for years, and when I returned home from this trip, I decided to finally do something about it. I thought the charm that worked so well on everyone else would work just as well for you, but... clearly I was mistaken."

I huffed a laugh. That was certainly an understatement.

"I wanted everything to be perfect, to come home changed and sweep you off your feet, but I've already failed at that, and I cannot keep my feelings to myself a moment longer. I love you, and I want to share everything with you. You are my best friend, my confidant, and the only woman I could possibly imagine spending the rest of my life with. Is there even the slightest chance you may feel the same way?"

Colin looked at me with the most open, vulnerable expression I'd ever seen, from anyone. My heart raced in my chest, and all I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and never let go. But I forced myself to take a moment, rather than letting my emotions run wild.

"I need you to answer two questions for me, Colin," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and level. Unfortunately, I didn't totally succeed. Colin nodded quickly.

"Anything."

"First... how were your travels? Where was your favorite place to visit?"

Colin huffed a laugh, relaxing and leaning into me slightly as a faint smile pulled onto his face. My heart raced, but I forced myself to keep a neutral expression.

"I apologize for even making this test necessary, but my travels were... incredible. I may ask you not to share details with the rest of the Ton, but anything you ask, I will be happy to share with you. And my favorite place was Paris. I could not stop thinking about the two of us returning someday to visit together. It is a truly romantic city."

Colin's words removed any hope I had at keeping a smile off my face. I leaned into it, grinning at him and squeezing his hand a little as my heart began to race.

"Well then, I look forward to hearing all about them."

"And I look forward to telling you. Your second question?"

"...Did you truly go to Benedict for help with this last night?"

Colin groaned and threw his head back, which made me laugh. He shook his head as he met my eyes again, but he was smiling all the same.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I know you are close with him, and I noticed you going to speak to him after you abruptly left our conversation at the garden party. I thought he might have some insight, and I was right. It just came at the cost of quite a bit of mocking."

"You truly must be serious to give Benedict such ammunition to use against you for the rest of your lives."

"I am incredibly serious. And I would brave the teasing of every one of my siblings if, at the end, it brought me to you."

"Colin, that may be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."

"Does that mean... you return my affections?"

I smiled. "Yes, Colin. It does. You are my best friend, and I cannot think of anyone I would rather spend my time with than you."

Colin absolutely beamed at me. He began to lean forward, then thought better of himself even as his eyes still strayed to my lips.

"I cannot begin to tell you how desperately I wish we were alone in this moment," he said, voice low and husky. My heart did a backflip as I felt myself flush.

"Hopefully we will not have to wait long," I replied. We stayed there together, the tension and heat growing between us, until my mother cleared her throat from across the room and we were both brought back to reality. We leaned slightly further apart, although we didn't let go of each others' hands, and shared a grin.

"So... does that mean you will marry me?"

I laughed. "Colin, you cannot be serious! You began courting me a handful of minutes ago!"

I met Colin's eyes, expecting to share the joke, but instead I found him staring at me with a burning sincerity to go with his words.

"I am happy to wait as long as you need me to," he said, voice lowered slightly. "But I would also happily announce our engagement today."

I smiled and shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest so hard I thought Colin might actually be able to hear it.

"I may ask you to wait at least long enough for us to spend an evening or two together while courting, to see what it may be like to have a different relationship, rather than to spend time together as friends. But... I do not predict you will need to wait long."

The grin that spread across Colin's face was blinding, rivaling the happiest looks I'd ever seen from anyone in my life.

"That is good to hear. There are quite a few things I can hardly wait for, all of which come with engagement and marriage."

"Hm. Thank goodness we are both of positions and family that allow us to disappear for months on a honeymoon, finally sharing some travels around the world together. Among other things."

Colin squeezed my hand, and I could see him fighting back a handful of inappropriate responses and actions. I just grinned back at him, the two of us settling into our usual ease on the couch togehter after a moment so I could finally get Colin to tell me about the things he'd done on his travels. Hopefully, no one else would show up during the calling hours, and Colin and I could spend every moment of the day together just like this.

I'd meant what I'd said about wanting to wait, at least a short while, before announcing an engagement, and I did think it was a good idea. But I also couldn't imagine anything coming between Colin and I again after this. My best friend was back, and we were in love. What more could I possibly ask for in a match than that? Even if Benedict would be insufferable, claiming to be the one who'd set us up. It would be worth it, especially because we would weather the storm of his siblings together. Just like we'd do everything else that came for the rest of our lives.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

770 notes · View notes

ladyshrike · 5 months ago

Text

The Four Times You Say His Full Name

Am I any good at writing? Not really. It's all over the place in my opinion, but I had to get this thought out one way or another.

The four times you called him by his full name.

This first time you called him "Kenji" instead of a nickname, was back in LA. You were working a wedding up in Griffith Park, a beautiful little affair under the strawberry moon. It's all the witchy vibes you adore, a little wedding mixed with a baby shower, good vibes, blessings and tides. They'd offered you some food, which you wouldn't turn down as a known foodie, and that was when you got the call.

Ken had been riding home from the party in the hills and crashed his bike. He wasn't too far from Griffith, that had been the good part of taking this job, and he's been taken to Silver lake, a quick drive from the park. The couple is understanding, eventually becoming good friends with her later on, but that's a story for another time. She's racing through the streets, down the hills and to the hospital. They hadn't given you much information, just that he'd crashed and where he was. And when you get there, you ask the charge nurse for him, only to feel his arms throw themselves around your shoulders, a slightly pointed chin resting atop your head. You immediately smell the alcohol, and it's almost instant that a rage fills your chest.

"Babe! Baby! Sweetcakes~"

It takes everything, and you mean everything, not to implode then and there. You look at the nurse in front of you and take small controlled breaths.

"Is he free to go home?"

He was, having been checked over and kept under observation for two hours before they called her. According to her it's just some bad scrapes and bruises, no contusions or anything super bad, he had actually been wearing his helmet at least, just not his jacket. His bike is totaled, helmet cracked, it really is surprising that he didn't have a concussion at the very least, but through even your anger and worry, you're glad he's ok.

You drive him home, and the way there is silent. He'd sensed something was up the way you were being so cold with him, pushing his hand off your thigh, turning your head when he tried to kiss your lips, avoiding eye contact with you. And when you guys get to your shared home, and you help him in, is it the only time since the hospital that you look him in the eyes.

He sees it immediately. That rage that's practically sobering for him. The hurt. Disappointment.

It's not the only time he's ever done this, and he's not particularly tempted to tell you those two words he just knows would just set you off even if it were true.

"Mina, emergency vital check."

The floating AI robot scans him as she stands there for a moment, looking over him herself. The tension so palpable, if she chose to raise a hand at him in her frustration, she could very well slap him with it. But that wasn't her. She was the sweetest thing, practically a Disney princess, so the anger in her eyes is surprising, and new.

"He has two deep road rash injuries, and a large scrape down his side that isn't as bad as the other two. No fractures and no concussion. I suggest monitoring for any latent signs."

"Get him hooked up to a banana bag, then look up flights to Japan."

He shouldn't try to joke, or anything, but the soft scoff leaves his lips before he could stop it.

"Japan? We goin-"

"We, are not going anywhere. I'm going home to see my dad. Maybe we'll talk. Maybe we won't."

His small smile falls, a slight wince given when the IV is put in.

"Is something...is he ok?"

You shoot him a look because you know he's smart enough to understand what you were saying. You didn't want to say it, but you were done. With the empty promises, the lies, the hospital visits. You were done with it.

"Sabine-"

"Kenji, I'm done, ok? I've had it."

And there it is. He thought his parents splitting up was the worst pain, but seeing you stand at the doorway, teary eyed in anger and barely breathing steady, it shatters his heart because he can see it. You are done.

"I only ever asked you for two things. Two. And I am grateful you can at least follow one. I'll give you that, you have never cheated on me and I thank you for that. But if you constantly break this one? Constantly do this shit? How do I know that'll last?"

"H-hey, hold on-"

"No, I am done. I love you. I love your mom. You two are...the only people I consider myself close to here, but I cannot deal with this anymore. I can't deal with thinking one day I'm gonna get a call and have to identify your corpse instead of picking you up from an ER."

"It's just a couple scratches, I'm fine-"

He's done it now. He's said it.

"Forget it."

She grabs her wallet, and just her wallet. It's the only thing in her bag that she's bought herself as her bag had been a gift from him. She heads out and he tries to follow her, not able to get to her before she's speeding out of the driveway. She feels like a hypocrite, because while she isn't drunk, she is speeding like she's a NASCAR driver, and in a residential no less. She doesn't care to look at the time when she arrives at the airport, hoping to find at least one flight outbound to Japan soon. The car can stay in the parking structure for all she cares at this point, he would get a call to pick it up at the end of the month, if she decides not to come back. Her phone vibrates incessantly in her pocket for a bit, even as she's paying for the ticket she's managed to snag so last minute. Her passport is always in her wallet, so she doesn't particularly worry about how she'd get there without it. She turns her phone off, and soon enough, she's on the plane, watching LAX turn into a massive black splotch with dozens of tiny lights speckled across it in almost neat lines, as the plane departs. She's glad for the little privacy her seat offers her in first class. It's a long flight, the seats recline into a bed and everyone has their headphones on, so she isn't particularly worried that they'll hear her already quiet broken sobs.

By the end of the month, your mind is made up. You'd started accepting his calls sometime in the middle of his season. You know you shouldn't have been watching the games, it would only make the hurt worse, but it was better than ignoring him completely. And that wasn't really possible when you get notifications about him on all your social media, all which say he's in a slump and you are nowhere to be seen at his games. Everyday since you'd left, there had been a voicemail. Apologies, checking in messages, more apologies, declarations of love, and to your utmost surprise, a recording of his introduction at an AA meeting. That one particularly stuck with her. Everyday, roughly at 8 pm, a call and a voicemail with his introduction.

Maybe that was why you started taking his calls. Maybe that was why his game was getting better, back to what he usually is at. His averages get better and you, for the most part, find your anger having dissipated. By the end of the month, you're hesitantly standing in his living room as he tries to clean up the bit of clutter he had around. His shirt rides up a little and you see it. The slight scarring from the massive scrape down his side. Your lips quivers and he stops completely, dead in his tracks. He's startled by the sight of those huge wet tears that build in your eyes and his arms are around you instantly, tightly wound to prove he was ok. That he was still there. He was safe.

You cry again that night, held in his arms. He misses the game the next day. He has his thirty day chip to show you after all, and he doesn't want to leave your side to make up for lost time. He swears a promise not to do it ever again. Drink and ride he means. He isn't an alcoholic, and the AA meetings were necessary to get his license back, but he wanted her to see he regretted his decisions wholeheartedly.

The second time you said his full name was at your wedding. A year from the date he proposed to you, rather clichely you'd admit, at your monthly trip to Disneyland. The team had won a game, they were given a PR trip to Disneyland and she was an annual pass holder. She met them there, and during the cavalcade with them, he stepped off as they got to the castle, where she stood watching, and he popped the question, on one knee with a simple little ring she had spotted in a jewelry store. The team, having been in on it, cheering them on when she tearfully said yes.

Now she stands at the alter, in a gorgeous dress that fits her like a glove, his mother as her maid of Honor, and her dad as his best man because let's be honest, he thought of him as a son at this point, the way his mom thought of her as her own daughter in the time they'd all known each other, and the ceremony is relatively small, less than fifty guests, very intimate.

It's during her vows, her promises to him and vice versa that she says it. Beautifully charming smile on those lovely glossy lips of hers.

"I, Sabine Baji, take you, Kenji Sato, as my husband. Through sickness and in health, through the good times and the bad, till death do us part."

It's the sweet and short of her vows, tearfully said as her emotions run rampant. The rest of the night spent energetically celebrating.

The third time is a little more...non PG.

It's off season, he's been training here and there, enjoying some time off in their big house up in the hills. She's spending the weekend babysitting between gigs and she's been...quiet. Maybe it was the fact that she was around them so often. Maybe, it was the fact that her friends just had a little one she was watching currently, that clung to her so jealously when Kenji came around for a cuddle too. Maybe she was ovulating. The exact cause of this scenario was a blur to her really. She just recalled, well, he recalled and told her it was how it went down. Swears by it that she, as the family was driving away with the baby, fast asleep curled up in a hoodie it wouldn't let go or give back, that she looked up at him and said it.

"Kenji." It's the first time in a long time that she says his name, so he worries maybe he did something wrong again without noticing, but the look in your eyes in determined, is heated...pleading. "I want a baby."

The night didn't end for you two there. You both lost count somewhere after three, overstimulated and yet continuing like bunnies in heat. You blame the baby fever, and maybe the wine during lunch, but the venture is fruitful two months later, when four pink lines, two on each stick, and the word 'Pregnant' in bold on the digital test are laid before you two on the bathroom counter.

The same counter he would quickly have you laying against as he spread your thighs open wider, held you closer, got a little rougher with his thrusts, aiming to make the baby in you twins, according to him. Something not fruitful, unfortunately for him, but enjoyable at least.

And that takes us to the fourth and perhaps not final time you ever say his name.

Seven months later, you feel like a ship. The little peanut, you two so kindly nicknamed the baby while looking for a name, kicking around, shifting about, giving you some of the most ravenous cravings you'd ever had. Braxton Hicks, you came to be brutally informed of when waking in the middle of the night in a labor scare, had finally died off.

Or so you had thought.

When the first stab of pain shot through your side, you'd simply grimaced and sighed, shifting on the couch during the somewhat humid autumn day. You had decided to stay the Halloween weekend in, instead of going to a party while you felt like a boat. Kenji immediately notes the discomfort and tries to help.

"You want your little heart ice pack?"

You shake your head, yawning softly because yeah, it hurt, but you were too tired. You just wanted to go to sleep already.

"Ngh...no...just wanna go sleep already...come with me?"

How could he say no? He takes your hand when you ask for help getting up, and you both feel it. The sudden rush of water on your legs, his slippers. Your face is beet red and he's confused for all of two seconds before he's scrambling for the "go" bag. A Dodger duffle bag that the team's wives/significant others had decorated for them. He'd filled it with extra clothes for them, babies first outfits, washed in baby detergent, and a picture of his mom and her dad, both who couldn't be there today. You groan in annoyance because that was your favorite rug now covered in amniotic fluid, and now you would probably stain the carseats because you were not about to try and change your pants in active labor.

(Kenji had that covered, gingerly pulling your panties and pants off and helping you out new ones on, after cleaning you up with a damp towel after all. Kiss to your belly and all.)

You say it, however, sixteen hours into active labor. Minutes before midnight, almost Halloween day, like your baby wanted to share a birthday with you, which you would never mind as long as you get to hold her. It's when a particularly sharp labor pain hits that you yell it, gripping his hand so tightly you swear you hear his hand crack.

It's angry, and pained, and you swear, just after saying his full government name, that you would make him feel how this felt. No amount of epidural helped this pain, no amount of Lamaze Breathing or doulas helped prepare her or take this pain any better. She'd find a way for him to carry and birth the next one even if she'd have to become a mad scientist. She isn't good with pain already and this isn't helping.

"Kenji Sato! You are having the next one, got I-ngh!!!GOT IT?!"

He just about passed out when they announce you're crowning, because for some gods forsaken reason, he decides to look beyond the blue sheet. It's a horror he will never forget, and he swears he won't put you through another round of whatever your anatomy was doing to push yours and his little princess out of you.

And then she's there.

She's in your arms first, he's busy gathering his emotions as they cut the umbilical cord for him, and you need the first few minutes of skin to skin with her before she has to get cleaned up and given her first dose of vaccines. He holds her after, eyes bleary with tears as he does so so gingerly. He doesn't want to hurt her, doesn't want to accidentally harm her tiny little fragile body. She's a perfect amalgamation of you two. His eyes, a grayish blue, but the rest, he will happily and readily proudly admit, is all your looks. Tousled full head of soft pinky fuschia hair, eyebrows to match, rosy cheeks and little pouty lips. He swears, on everything he loves, she smiles when he is told to do skin to skin with her as well. When she curls into his warmth while you are cleaned up by the nurses. And when you two are able to take her home, when you are given the all clear and she passes her car seat test, and you three are finally back in your house, settling her down in her side sleeper by your bed, it's clear that the few times you use his full name can be bad, but most of them?

They're worth it.

#kenji sato #kenji x reader #ken sato #ultraman rising #ultraman #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato smut #technically

345 notes · View notes