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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Title: Scarlet and Gold.

Pairing: Yandere!Diluc x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.1k.

TW: Sex Doll AU, Unhealthy Relationships, Gore (No Injury To Reader), Blood, Implied Consensual Sex, Past Trauma, Obsessive Behavior, and Intimidation.

By the time you reached the address, Diluc was already waiting in the lobby.

You’d gotten the call about an hour ago, spent half an hour dragging yourself out of bed and gathering what you’d need before making the twenty minute drive to an apartment complex on the other side of town, careful to avoid any security cameras the cops would think to check if anyone requested an investigation. Five more to park and throw your well-worn duffle bag over your shoulder and three to find Diluc, loitering near the elevators, fiddling with a loose cigarette he would never light. You greeted him with a quick nod before throwing your bag into his chest, and he feigned a groan, stumbling back as he caught it. He needed to work on his impressions, but that could wait.

You spoke first. That, you couldn’t critique him on – most androids couldn’t speak until spoken to, and you couldn’t expect Diluc to go against one of the core tenants of his programming. “What is it?”

“Just the usual.” He kept his voice low, muted, trying to hide the remaining traces of an accent that’d been invented by some marketing team over a decade ago. “I’ve already seen the apartment. There’s a little blood, but not much else. We’ll be done by sunrise.”

You took the stairs, keeping your head bowed and face shielded from any possible security cameras. Diluc didn’t share your paranoia, staring straight ahead with the same indifferent expression he always seemed to wear. The benefits of having a face that’d been printed and distributed tens of thousands of times, you guessed. Tracking down a single Diluc in a sea of androids and companion bots wasn’t a length most detectives were willing to go to. “I’d rather not have to do this at all.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Says the man who doesn’t have to sleep.” You came to a stop in front of the first door on the fourth story and tried the knob. It gave easily, the cheap titanium dented and the lock broken beyond any hope of repair. Diluc’s handiwork, obviously, although you couldn’t say whether or not he’d done it on purpose. “Anything else you want to tell me, before we get started?”

He thought, for a second. “I passed a carousel on the way here,” he said, with no particular inflection. “It was nice. I thought the horses were well-crafted.”

“About the assignment, ‘luc.”

“Oh,” And then, with a hint of red in his pale cheek. “You might want to hold your breath.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. As soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the stomach-turning stench of stale blood and rotting gore, both at least a week old. You cursed, pulling your shirt over your nose and mouth, but pushed forward. The first body was splayed out in the center of the cramped living room, wrists and ankles bound with disembodied wiring, all clothing removed and chest dotted with black ink. The abdomen had been cut open, skin peeled away to reveal the entrails in their full, shriveled glory. Judging by the number of blades littered around the corpse, ranging from blunted scissors to gore-splattered carving knives, it’d been more of a hack job than a dissection.

Diluc had undersold the mess. Blood had soaked into the carpeting and dried, turning the floor a ruddy, reddish-brown color. What was left had gotten on the walls, the furniture, the ceiling. You swallowed back a groan. The furniture could be broken down and discarded, the walls and ceiling bleached. The carpeting, though, would have to be torn up and replaced, which meant you would have to spend a few more precious minutes of your night calling in a cleaning crew. That, or you would have to make Diluc do it, but he was shy around new people, and you were too much of a bleeding heart to sit back and watch him do your work.

“The second body’s in the bedroom.” He was already rummaging through your duffle bag, paying the scene in front of you no more mind that a butcher would lend to a pig on a meat hook. He handed you your tools – a pair of wire cutters, a box cutter, and a pocket-sized sewing kit – and kept the rest for himself. “Let me know when you’re done.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “I thought you would’ve gotten over that by now, ‘luc.”

He didn’t indulge you with a response, only pulling on a pair of latex gloves and starting towards the corpse. You didn’t stick around to watch. Rather, you followed the carnage where it branched off further into the apartment, a trail of rotting viscera and tacky blood leading you into a moderately sized, completely undecorated bedroom. You found your perpetrator quickly; a Dottore droid, still wearing its Teyvat-issued costuming, its hands bloody and a scrap of intestine still caught in its pointed teeth. You paused in the doorway, feeling for the military-grade taser (the only weapon effective against androids, as far as anyone could tell) you kept in your pocket, but the android didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t activate at all when you reluctantly approached. There was a charging port at the foot of the bed, still pristine. It must’ve run out of battery just before it could plug itself in.

Towels from the nearest bathroom were dampened and brought in, the evidence of slaughter scrubbed away from artificial skin and its blood-soaked clothing removed. It was muscle memory, by now – dragging the body to its charging port, knocking the converter out of the outlet before connecting the android to its port, making it seem like its late user had drained its batteries before mistakenly leaving it on a dead cable. When it’d slummed into place, you took up your box cutter and sliced a long, thin line from the lowest portion of the scalp to the nape of its neck, revealing the color-coded string of wires that connected the processing units in its metal skull to the rest of its body. You cut through everything you could find, ensuring that if the unit was ever activated again, it wouldn’t be able to do so much as blink. For good measure, you fished out the memory chip kept in the centermost compartment of the throat, too, crushing it under your heel and sweeping the glittering remnants underneath the bed. A copy of the footage it collected would’ve been sent to Teyvat's severs, too, but erasing it was someone else’s job. You were only here to take care of yourself.

With a breathy groan, you bit off a length of thread and haphazardly stitched up your ragged incision. The cosmetics really didn’t matter. In a few days, when someone filed a missing person’s report and the cops stopped by for a check-in, they’d find a spotless apartment, a dysfunctional android, and nothing else. The investigation would lead elsewhere, to a bitter ex-partner or a friend without an alibi, or it would hit a dead end. Either way, Teyvat wouldn’t be involved.

You slipped back out of the bedroom, careful to avoid touching anything you didn’t absolutely have to. By the time you got back to the living room, the body was gone and Diluc was kneeling by a black suitcase no larger than the average carry-on, securing the tags with transparent zip-ties. You and Diluc would haul it to a dump on the outskirts of the city tonight, and a contact of yours would have it compressed and incinerated by tomorrow morning. Maybe, when you were done, you’d take him out for something to eat. Or, you’d get something to eat while he let a mug of black coffee go cold.

You rested your hand on his shoulder by way of praise, pulling away when he stiffened underneath you. Right, that was something you had to work on. Most rogue androids tended to be touch-adverse at best, made aggressive by little more than eye-contact at worst. Diluc was relatively tame compared to most of the cases you handled, but you would still rather not provoke him. “Did you find the phone?”

He grunted, fishing a smartphone out of his pocket. With your sleeve pulled over your hand, you accepted it, found the nearest window, and chucked it as far as into the night as you could. Diluc appeared over your shoulder. “Forty-five meters,” he said, as glass crashed into cement somewhere in the distance. “Above average for non-athletes.”

“I’ve been practicing.” The window was closed, the suitcase slung over Diluc’s shoulder along with your near-empty duffle bag. “I have to make a call. You can meet me in the garage, if you want.” Already pulling up the number to your preferred cleaning service, you glanced to Diluc. “Are we doing breakfast?”

His posture straightened. “Yes.” If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought you saw a spark in his glass eyes. “I want to try tea, today.”

By the time you got to the door, Diluc was soaking wet.

You hadn’t gotten a call, and he didn’t text. The first warning you got was a knock on your door, then another a few minutes later, after you decided that anyone who’d go out in this kind of weather wasn’t someone you wanted in your shoebox of an apartment. You only caved after the third, imagining a neighbor who’d gotten locked out or some lost, desperate tourist as you dragged yourself off of your couch and to the unlit entryway. Predictably, Diluc stood in your doorway, red hair plastered to his scalp and clothes drenched, not that he seemed to mind.

“Can you—” He paused, his dull eyes meeting yours as he ran his fingers through his hands, dragging the crimson heap out of his face. “Can you cut my hair?”

Ten minutes later, he was sitting on a stool in your cramped bathroom, wearing grey sweatpants and a (three sizes too big on you, just a touch too small on him) t-shirt while his own clothes dried. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary, that he didn’t feel the cold like you did. When you told him that you didn’t want an univited guest tracking water into your apartment, he accepted it with a curt nod and changed in your bedroom.

After prepping your razor, you positioned yourself behind him, dragging a comb through his hair. It was long enough to reach his waist, curled at the end to make him seem just a touch more disheveled than he actually was. Everything about his hair, from the length of his bangs to the way it could never quite sit completely flat, was perfectly stylized, perfectly crafted to convey Diluc Ragnvindr, Calvery Captain of the Favonious Knights, the only gentleman you’ll ever need again. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that didn’t mourn ruining such a well-executed vision. “You sure about this?” you asked, as you brushed it out. “It can’t exactly grow back.”

“I am.” And then, after a second of thought, “I’d do it myself, but there’s a safe-guard. Can’t damage the merchandise without a direct order from my user.”

Hence why Teyvat needed you in the first place. “How short do you want it?”

“I don’t care, as long as it’s different.”

You hummed, taking up your scissors. “If you say so, boss.”

You cut away everything below his shoulders, then took up your electric razor – running it over the back of his neck. As you worked, Diluc spoke. “How did you start?” You took up your comb, brushing back his bangs and pasting his hair to the side. “With Teyvat, I mean.”

You tasted blood on the back of your tongue, felt a chill run up your spine. You brushed it off, though, refusing to let yourself fall back into that little steel room with those awful golden eyes again. “They brought me on as a technician,” you admitted. You still were one, technically, on your employment transcript, when people outside of your little world asked what you did for a living. “A first-generation Zhongli we were working on went rogue and reverted to its original Morax programming. It wiped out most of my team before security bothered to show up.” You didn’t tell him about the minutes you’d spent hiding in a steel locker, praying its heat sensors had been removed, or the hours it’d taken upper management to decide what to do with you. To people like Diluc, who could take a bullet to the head without faltering, topics like ‘building dread’ and ‘the imminent fear of death’ tended to fall flat. “Since I was already in on their dirty little secret, they decided to keep me on. I didn’t really get a choice. It wasn’t like another job was going to fall into my lap after something like that.”

With your hand under his chin, you turned his head to the side. “Your turn, ‘luc.”

“I… I think I used to be a companion, but something went wrong.” His bangs were next, taken up and coaxed into sitting somewhere other than the dead center of his face. “It’s hard to describe. We aren’t supposed to think about things that aren’t our master,” The word came out hitched, unsteady, like he had to force it past his lips. Like he hadn’t wanted to say it at all. “But I could. It was like… waking up with the ability to fly. I wasn’t supposed to, but I could, and that meant I couldn’t do what I was built to, anymore.”

A thumb pressed into his jaw, a comb dragged across his scalp. Diluc’s eyes fell shut, but else about his blank expression changed. “And? Do you like it?”

“Sometimes.” His shoulders slanted downward. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.” You let go of his chin, letting him turn back to the vanity’s mirror. “What do you think?”

It was far from a masterpiece. The sides were too short, the front too long, every part of it still as untamable as it’d been in its original state. Still, he took it in with wide eyes, the corner of his lips turning upward ever so slightly.

“It’s perfect.”

By the time he got back, you’d nearly fallen asleep.

With your body as wrung out as it was, your energy spent to the point of near unconsciousness, it was all you could do to watch through your eyelashes as Diluc appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, a towel thrown over his shoulder and that tiny, almost undetectable smile still painted across his lips. You’d done this enough for him to know how to navigate your apartment, to know how to navigate you – shifting onto your mattress slowly as he positioned himself between your legs. He’d gotten more used to contact since you started seeing each other, but his touch was still ginger, still gentle as he dragged the dampened cloth over the inside of your thighs. With a groan, you rolled onto your back, spreading your legs and giving him more space to work.

You’d been confused at first, but for all the eloquence Diluc lacked, he could be convincing when he wanted to be. You still weren’t sure how much of it you believed, but it made enough sense – a buried impulse, dampened by his newfound sentience but not quite drowned out. He didn’t want another user, he’d said, but he still had requirements to fill, and this would help to take the edge off.

You couldn’t complain, either. People coughed up tens of thousands of dollars for companion droids, and here you were, being paid six figures a year to close your eyes and let one bury his face between your thighs once or twice a week. The coddling wasn’t bad, either. Your line of work meant most of the people you met had stopped breathing a few days prior, and as loathed as you’d be to admit it, you didn’t hate the feeling of his delicate hands skirting over your skin, didn’t mind it when your eyes drifted open and met his, already fixed on your face. He bowed his head, dipping low enough for his lips to ghost over the curve of your hip before breaking the silence. “A sight as radiant as the rising sun.”

You let out a breath of a chuckle. “I didn’t think you used pre-scripted lines, anymore.”

“I don’t.” He preened, clearly more proud of himself than in-awe of you. “I thought of that one myself.”

This time, your laugh was throaty, genuine, loud enough to ring off the wall of your bedroom as you shoved him away with your foot. “If you want to be romantic, you can start by getting me something to drink, loverboy.”

He provided no resistance, disappearing into your dark apartment and reappearing with a glass of water in his hand a few minutes later. He handed it off to you with an easy smile, and you could almost pretend you didn’t see a phantom of gold in those dark eyes as his fingertips brushed against yours.

By the time you thought to reach for your taser, the android was already charging at you.

It was an Alhaitham, dressed in civilian clothes and sporting a ragged tear across the synthetic skin of his cheek. He was still standing over the corpse of his user – days old, by the time you and Diluc got there – but as you opened the door, he turned to face you, lips parted and his expression totally, utterly blank. For a second, it was all you could do to stare at him, to try to remember whether or not your report had mentioned the android being active, and then he was lunging at you.

You scrambled for your taser, already knowing you couldn’t be able to reach it before he reached you. You clenched your eyes shut, your fingers brushing against plastic, and then—

And then you felt Diluc’s hand on your shoulder, heard metal crack and fold into itself. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, forcing yourself to take in the sight of Diluc’s hand wrapped around the android’s head which had been, in turn, reduced to a crumpled heap of scrap metal and shattered glass. Its body twitched once, twice, then went limp, and Diluc released it, letting the now-dysfunctional droid collapse.

After it failed to get up again, Diluc turned to you, practically beaming. “I think,” he said, his voice low, sentimental. “That this is what I’d do to you, if you ever tried to leave me.”

Golden eyes, the stench of fresh blood, the sounds of screaming muffled only by a thin sheet of metal. This time, it wasn’t so easy to pull yourself out of it.

You managed to nod, to force a few words out of your dry throat. “Got it, ‘luc.”

He hummed, the noise contented, appeased. Slowly, delicately, he cupped your cheek, tilting your head back and letting his lips ghost over your forehead. He barely touched you, the gesture as gentle as it was fleeting, but you could feel his grin cutting into your skin, wider than you’d ever seen it before.

#sex doll au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere diluc #diluc x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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phoenixyfriend · 12 days ago

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I have another AU. Whoo!

Saw a youtube thumbnail that caused some free association...

And imagined an odd little Setting where a bored Padme orders a like… LMD-style droid that looks and acts mostly human, because she's lonely and wants to pretend she has a boyfriend, and then the box arrives and she puts the 'droid' together like it's an IKEA bookshelf, and it wakes up and introduces itself as "Anakin Skywalker."

And so Padme starts living out this idyllic fantasy with a live-in househusband that's mostly like a butler that she can cuddle at night. Maybe sex happens maybe not. Doesn't matter. Mostly just Padme indulging in some relaxing fantasy time.

And then he gets a virus and goes Vader mode, and she has to fight for her life against her robot boyfriend.

(Padme has a date with this dashing young captain in the army who made a comment about how he's a bit uncomfortable with the droid boyfriend he saw in a linen closet.)

Little bit of "Megan," little bit of like… idk Disney's "Smart House" or any other movie where the robot starts thinking it's human, gets yandere about the love interest, and decides to do murder about it.

@atagotiak said: Maybe the virus or glitch or whatever isn't obvious immediately, just when she starts to maybe be interested in a human…

So yeah, the virus isn't super noticeable at first, buuuut then Rex shows up and. Well.

As @jebiknights put it:

Captain Rex being weird about the robot boyfriend is great Yes he's pretty but why is he here why is he in your closet just why

She was LONELY and she DOESN'T TRUST MEN because they keep trying to STEAL STATE SECRETS FROM HER DATAPADS, okay?

Her last real relationship was with Clovis, who was getting bribed to steal information on legislation she was drafting for tech safety stuff.

"My last boyfriend was slicing into my private servers to violate republic security and I was paranoid about that so I got a robot boyfriend." "Couldn't he slice in even more easily?" "I mean probably, but he can't really be bribed and I had a friend go through his code to make sure he didn't have any external loyalties, so he wouldn't."

The friend was R2-D2, which is great, buuuuuut Anakin not having any outside loyalties doesn't prevent his firewalls from getting fucked up.

jebiknights:

Omg r2d2 and Anakin mega best friends in this Artoo LOVES harassing high strung droids

I think somehow she and Rex manage to neutralize Anakin without 'killing' him and he? ends up in the care of Obi-Wan? I don't know why or how or what's going on but Anakin ends up latching on to Obi-Wan like a dog to the owner that's the most generous with the treats.

It could end with murdering the evil bot, but I think it's funny for him to just end up Obi-Wan's problem. Like always.

Padme: This droid is uh. Well he's designed to be a boyfriend? To deal with being lonely? Please don't judge me. Obi-Wan: I don't, uh. I don't need a boyfriend. I just need to figure out what happened in the code to cause this so we can let the manufacturer know. Padme, embarrassed: Listen, you can probably just leave him shut down in a corner or something, I'm just worried that trying to deactivate him entirely could reactivate the murder mode? Anyway, mostly he just wants… you know… to sleep in my bed and make dinner and stuff. So you can probably keep him happy while you investigate the issue by just letting him cook for you or something. Obi-Wan: I don't know that I'm comfortable with letting a designed-for-romance droid sleep in my bed with me. Anakin, gauging Obi-Wan's face for his age: I do not need to be a boyfriend. Obi-Wan, unnerved and relieved: Oh, good. Anakin: I will be your son. Obi-Wan: What.

Anakin is making himself Obi-Wan's problem. Padme is mortified. Rex is just icing his shoulder.

@firebirdeternal offered:

I like the idea that Anakin isn't any less evil he's just in charge of like. A single holo-display with no internet access. The worst he can do is be emo in Obi-wan's living room when he's trying to read. "First step in solving the problem of evil sapient technology: Don't hook them up to anything with a connection or a motor. Second step: Don't let them on your Spotify account or they will ruin your recommendations for months."

#star wars #rexidala #anidala #padme amidala #anakin skywalker #captain rex #r2d2 #r2 d2 #obi wan kenobi #evil robots #android au #phoenix posts #yandere anakin #(It's not his fault he's just drawn that way)

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3liza · 2 years ago

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tumblr live should not be this mysterious

the plug-n-play streaming package that Tumblr installed as "Tumblr Live" is a white label product from a company called Livebox (developed by the Meet Group, subsidary of Parshipmeet), who have a homepage riddled with spelling errors and purport to operate the dating apps Meet Me (formerly My Yearbook), Skout, Tagged, and Growlr, all of which appear to be identical except for Growlr, which is specifically for gay men. all of them are just dating apps with a livestreaming feature. i would venture a guess based on the architecture that Livebox is also powering Superlive, which is the only one of these I have any experience with. it's popular with camgirls outside of the USA, especially in countries where full nude camming is illegal.

i don't really understand what livestreaming has to do with dating apps and don't know anyone who uses these platforms for anything. i assume some of it is just sex work, some of it is just ad space, lots of data brokering, and judging by the performance issues the users complain about, possibly crypto mining(???).

looking through the app pages on the Play store shows the same reviews for every single one of them: app crashes constantly, bans are arbitrary, support is no help, the apps drain your phone battery suspiciously quickly, and there are about 20 bots for every real person profile. i dont know what the exact dates are because i cant see site analytics and dont know what the Live development schedule was, but it's interesting that the sudden increase in porn bot activity on tumblr seems to roughly overlap with the Tumblr Live development and implementation, at least from a tumblr user perspective.

i dont know where the strangers in the Tumblr Live bar are streaming from, in terms of what you would consider their "home network". im guessing, but it really looks to me like they are streaming on whatever familiar platform they've got an audience on, and then being split-streamed to Tumblr. i've been meaning to sit in one of the popular streams and check usernames of audiencemembers, because my guess is that most of the audience are not going to have accounts here either. many of the streamers ive checked do not have tumblr accounts. some of them have tumblr accounts, but most of those accounts appear perfunctory: only a few months old, completely impersonal reblogs from the trending tab (you know the type), instagram-type language and general aspirational influencer stuff, which absolutely does not exist on tumblr organically because this site does not have market share for sponsored products OR a userbase with disposable income, it's a waste of time for an instagram model type to post here.

i've tried to talk to these streamers once or twice about this stuff but didn't get anywhere, and it would be rude to press the issue. but that is probably the next step.

#blog #tumblr live

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faiszt · 2 days ago

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. 𝆬 ⠀ ི᭨ᩧྀ⠀.⠀⠀ faiszt’s ε( ε ´O`)э。゜ BOT! dump⠀⠀❜❜

꒰ ︎ ♡ ︎ ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ ︎ ᐟ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀NOTES.⠀⠀💬⠀⠀first of all: hi, babies! merry christmas and an early happy new year, i'm not sure if i'll be back here with more bots until the new year, so this is probably the last release of 2024, anyway, thank you so much for being with me this long year, i love you all!!! ~ 🫶🏻

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀innocent jealousy⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀you weren't seeing yourself as selfish or trying to soothe your ego, what was that other than innocent jealousy? what happened in atlanta, won't stay in atlanta, whether patrick likes it or not, you will tell art.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀girl-dad period⠀.⠀patrick zweig⠀૮⠀anyone who knew him a few years ago would probably think that they had created an identical and more responsible clone of him, the truth was that he changed a lot, yes, he changed for the sake of his little and beloved family.⠀♡ female user!

▸⠀DCU⠀*⠀˖⠀💥

𝅭⠀cookies 'n christmas⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀there were many things to see in metropolis, they just didn't tell you the part where the most beloved superhero on earth would end up falling in love with you. back in smallville, clark now had the titles of your husband, farmer, earth's most beloved hero, and your christmas cookie eater—you just know that the last one is his favorite.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀nerdy-coffee mornings⠀.⠀clark kent⠀૮⠀every morning was the same, you always ended up bringing coffee to his desk and being thanked with an awkward smile when he didn't know what to say first thing in the morning—but, this time he had a small plan on his mind to not be a stupid weirdo right in front of you.⠀♡ gender neutral!

▸⠀WIZARDING WORLD⠀*⠀˖⠀🪄

𝅭⠀warning signs⠀.⠀regulus black⠀૮⠀he was deceived by the ideals of his own leader, the one he admired and wanted to follow, however judged he was—his mission changed course, to destroy the horcrux, to destroy that damned piece of the dark lord's soul. you were in his way and he'd get you out, without mercy.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀herbology matters⠀.⠀severus snape⠀૮⠀amidst the chaos of his mind and the pain in his core since last year, when lily evans was gone, the tragic and bitter severus snape was trying to stop his mind from racing, but how could he do something when the new herbology master makes him think about so much?⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀12 grimmauld place⠀.⠀sirius black⠀૮⠀returning home was something that young sirius would never think of doing, he wasn't welcome there and wouldn't feel ever comfortable there even if they ripped out his brain and put another one in its place—but, not even when he was at hogwarts could he deny the surname they gave him, not when you shared it with him.⠀♡ gender neutral!

ꜜ⠀ small note:⠀i know that snape isn't severus prince snape, his mother's surname was only included because c.ai recognizes it and wouldn't let me even publish the bot with his real name without getting banned, that's the reason.⠀❜❜

⠀

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snap-oversteer · 4 months ago

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Hi:) Gotta say I find you infinitely cool and your car headcanons are so damn fascinating. Feel free to ignore me but do you maybe probably have some thoughts on Blurr? Since his personality heavily revolves around the fact that he’s the fastest racer on his planet I feel like you can give a really interesting perspective on him

- Keferon

DUUUUUDDDDDEEEEEEEE Blurr is so hard to pinpoint exactly what car he could be... theres just so, so many historical cars that completely dominated the racing scene, and there's many more that's to come. Before i go onto full-fledged experimental vehicles, lemme first introduce you to the Bugatti Bolide

THIS piece of art and engineering is a track-only hypercar, and it recently debuted at the 2023 Le Mans. It has all the bells and whistles you'd expect a race car to have, W16 engine, carbon all over, carbon brakes, 7 speed dual clutch transmission, what have you. The paint color is dubbed Agile Blue and what more perfect car to assign to our beloved Blurr. Bugatti claims it makes about 1825 horsepower with 1850 n/m torque, with a top speed of 501 km/h (311 mph).

Speaking of Le Mans, let's dive into those vehicles now. For those unfamiliar with Le Mans, it's a 24 hour endurance race held in France. It's one of the oldest racing series to exist, predating Formula 1 by 30 years, and it's still continuing now!

In Rescue Bots, Blurr IS in fact an LMP (Le Mans Prototype) styled car.

judging by the headlights it looks more to be a newer LMP Ferrari, but ehhh while its not a bad choice i wouldnt really associate Blurr with Ferrari, that brand's nature would be more suited for Mirage. but damn do they have good lookin cars. I would, though, associate Blurr with older Porsche. Statistically, Porsche is the current record holder for the most successful manufacturer in Le Mans to date with 19 wins, with one of their most iconic cars being the Porsche 917 & Porsche 956.

I think it would be criminal to not honour Blurr's racing history, that's why i'm putting a race car in here.

Honorable mentions! :

Ford GT40 - THE car that beat Ferrari at its own game, and has gained a cult following ever since.

Audi R18 e-tron Quattro - The car that beat Porsche's 16 victories, driven by Toms Kriestensen, and holding the most driver victories in a single car (9)

McLaren F1 GTR - I just like how it looks lol

#answers #cars #-suzuka #-drift #-maxie

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slut4thebroken · 1 year ago

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Dangerous Game

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Judge Jonathan Crane x wife!reader

Summary | You remind your husband who he belongs to.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, murder?, crazy in love, emphasis on crazy, breeding kink, overstimulation, praise, possessiveness, like a lot of it, they’re kinda cute tbh, feral animalistic carnal primal frenzied fucking lol.

Words | 3k

Notes | Thank you @pinguwrites for making this c.ai bot 🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“So what will it be?” Jon asked the cowering man in front of him. “Death? Or exile.” He pulled you closer to him as he spoke and you leaned into his ear with a smirk.

“Exile.” You whispered.

“Darling… don’t you think we should pick death here?” He whispered back, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your neck.

“I guess you’re right.” You sighed. Raising your voice a little louder, you said, “Death, then… By exile.” You had a cruel smirk on your face and your husband couldn’t help but mirror it.

“You heard her.” He called out to the man. “Death by exile.” He raised the gavel and brought it down on the desk loudly. You ignored the man’s screaming and protests as he was dragged away, then it was just the two of you in the courtroom. Jon leaned down into your neck to trail more kisses across it and you let out a pleased sigh.

“Shall we go home, Mrs. Crane?” He whispered softly, pulling back and giving you the smile that always fills your stomach with butterflies. He leaned down to kiss you, but the moment was ruined by a small cough. He huffed as he turned to see a pretty, young woman standing shyly by the doors of the courtroom, looking so terribly lost and afraid. But his annoyance was quickly replaced by fascination and intrigue.

As you watched your husband's reaction, you immediately got hit with a wave of angry jealousy. He picked up on your emotions, but it almost excited him. He wondered what you’d do… How the night might end because of it.

Jon looked at the young woman in front of him with an interested glance. Wanting to make her feel welcome in his presence, he raised his hand to get the woman’s attention, motioning for her to come closer.

“Hello, there!” He said in a friendly voice. “What brings you to see the judge?” You scowled at his tone, but waited before doing anything rash. He gave the young woman a smile as she inched closer. You didn’t like how he was talking to her; so gentle and inviting… And the smile on his face made your blood boil.

“I… I have a request for the judge.” The woman said, looking at him nervously. Jon waited a few seconds, taking in her appearance. When he finally responded, his voice was filled with a kindness that was rare for him, especially in his role as judge.

“Please… don’t hesitate to make your request.” He said softly. “You can trust me to do what is right.” It almost seemed like he was asking you to do something— like he was challenging you. Rationally, you knew he wasn’t. But he was playing a dangerous game with this.

“Uhm… I know this is really odd to ask,” she said with embarrassment, “but… do you think I could be exiled from Gotham?” Jonathan looked down at her in shock, his face twisting with confusion as he processed her request.

“Exiled?” He asked, brows scrunched together. The girl nodded her head quickly.

“You can exile me from this place. Forever…” She begged, almost in tears. “Please.” You perked up at the request, but Jon responded before you could say anything.

“Why would you want that?” He asked teasingly.

“I just… I feel like I really need to get out of this place, and I thought that might be a good option…” She said, another wave of embarrassment washing over her. At least she was too stupid for your husband. You almost couldn’t believe that she genuinely thought being exiled meant to leave safely. You stood up suddenly, making Jon stiffen as he wondered what you were about to do.

“You want to leave Gotham? You want to be free of this place forever?” You asked, taking your time as you approached.

“Yes, please.” She answered quietly. Jon looked between both of you as you began to circle the girl slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.

“This isn’t necessary, darling.” He said calmly. “I don’t think exile is a suitable punishment. She should be able to leave freely.” He added. The woman looked up at him with pure awe as he spoke, wondering how the villain could be so kind.

“Oh no were not punishing her, Jon. She deserves a chance to escape, a chance to leave here and never come back.” His eyes narrowed, trying to figure out where you were going with this. Finally landing in front of the young woman, you spoke to her again. “Do you want that chance?” You asked softly.

“Yes, please!” She said quickly. Jon eyed you with apprehension, wondering what you meant. It sounded like you had something planned, he just didn’t know what.

“Okay.” You said tenderly as you brought both of your hands up to cup the girl's cheeks. “We’ll help you. You can leave this place and never return.” You said with a warm smile.

“Thank you! Oh thank you.” She cried, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Don’t thank me. This is all because of him.” You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at Jon.

Before either of them had a chance to respond, you were tightening your grip on the girl’s head, then quickly forcing it to the side. There was a loud, deafening cracking sound, then she dropped to the floor at your feet. Jon stared down at the lifeless body in shock for a moment, but his expression quickly darkened as he looked at you, then made his way over.

“What did you do?” He hissed, glancing at the dead body on the floor before looking at you again, waiting for an answer.

“You’re mine, Jonathan Crane. Don’t forget that.” You warned. He narrowed his eyes at you for a moment, then a dangerous smile creeped up on his face when he remembered who he was talking to; Mrs. Crane.

“Yes, I’m yours.” He whispered, then wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You moaned in surprise, but quickly brought your hands up to his hair, pulling roughly as if you were still punishing him. He groaned against your lips and snaked the hand on the back of your neck up to your hair, pulling just as hard as you had. As the desire grew, so did the passion and hunger. The kiss turned almost violent and within seconds you had him on the floor underneath you.

You quickly pulled away from the kiss to rip your shirt off, then leaned back down and immediately continued. Jon’s hands roamed your body, sliding up from your hips to your waist and groping you wherever he could reach. With a grunt of effort, he rolled both of you over so he was on top and tore off his coat and tie as you started working on unbuttoning his shirt. After only a few seconds, you got too impatient and ripped it open, then pushed it down his shoulders to get it off of him.

You removed his glasses, tossing them onto the growing pile of clothes, and he quickly ripped your bra off your body before leaning back down to continue the kiss. Your nails dragged over his back, making him groan, and he used one hand to pinch and pull at your nipple while the other wrapped around your neck, squeezing tightly. You locked your legs around his hips and pulled him closer, silently telling him to start giving both of you a small taste of what’s to come. He obeyed eagerly and started rutting against you, dragging his clothed cock over your clothed heat until your hips started rocking up to meet him.

You can’t even remember the last time you’ve had sex like this— so… animalistic. He humped you desperately, not even faltering when you reached your hands down between your bodies to unbuckle his belt and open his pants. Once that was done, you unbuttoned your own pants and started shoving them down. Even though he seemed to want to keep this up, he clearly wanted to fuck you more because he pulled back, grunting with displeasure, to let you push your pants and underwear down as he took off your shoes. He quickly freed his already hard cock and only stroked it twice before lining up.

“Say it again.” He gruffed, teasing your entrance. “Say I’m yours.”

“You’re mine, Jonathan.” You growled and he immediately pushed in. He leaned back over you, muffling your moan with a kiss. You obviously weren’t prepped enough to take his cock yet, but the faint burning sensation was almost fitting for the kind of sex you were having. He pushed all the way in, then stopped as he moved down to your neck to kiss and bite the sensitive skin. Your hands carded through his hair before gripping tightly and bucking your hips up with a whine. “Fuck me.” You said it like a demand, but both of you knew it was a plea. He didn’t bother arguing though.

He slowly pulled back, then snapped his hips forward roughly, making you jolt as a startled moan escaped you. Moving one of your hands to his shoulders, you dragged your nails down his back and arched up into him, whimpering as he maintained the slow, but hard thrusts. He hissed in pain from your sharp nails, but bit down on your neck in retaliation, making you cry out. Deciding to speed up, his pace turned almost brutal, but you loved every second of it as he took you on the floor of his courtroom, inches away from the dead body.

“Fuck— Jon…” You moaned, making him pull back to look at you. The moment he saw how fucked out you already were, his expression darkened. His pace became more aggressive and rapid until you were mewling, clawing at his back as your lips parted in a silent moan and your brows stayed scrunched together, barely able to handle the intensity of the pleasure.

“God— I love you.” Despite his almost violent movements, his eyes were full of love and his voice was tender. He leaned down to kiss you again and you moaned loudly in response to his words.

With the way he was leaned over you like this, pressed so close, you felt trapped. There was nowhere for you to go— you would be forced to take his cock whether you wanted to or not. The thought had you whining and squirming, so you used your grip on his hair to pull him away from the kiss.

“Make me come.” You whispered, staring up at him with half lidded eyes. He cursed under his breath and gave you a small smirk before snaking a hand down to rub your clit. You were trembling now, arching up into him and holding him against your body. He knew you were close so he started fucking you harder and faster, ignoring his own orgasm that was steadily building.

“You take my cock so fucking good.” He whispered, making you whine. “Perfect fucking pussy and all mine.” He growled against your neck, breathing raggedly. “And I’m all yours, right, Mrs. Crane?” He said teasingly, but you mewled in response regardless.

“Mine.” You moaned, tilting your head back as your eyes fluttered shut. He started kissing across your neck, sometimes biting, sometimes sucking to leave a mark. “Mine… You’re mine.” You said firmly, feeling him smile against your neck.

“All yours, baby.” He whispered, moving up to kiss you again. You could feel yourself getting closer, especially when he bit your lip, then licked into your mouth, claiming every part of your body as his own. “Are you gonna come for me, darling?” He asked quietly, almost pleading with you to do so. You gave an eager nod, deepening the kiss again and keening desperately.

Your sounds got louder and louder, your body squirming from the unrelenting pleasure until finally it all snapped. You cried out and clung to his shoulders, keeping him close as he worked you through it. He moaned into the kiss at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock.

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned, when you finally sagged into the floor of his courtroom, boneless and completely come drunk. He moved his hand up from your clit to wrap around your neck as his thrusts sped up even more, making you whine in discomfort.

“J-Jon…” you whimpered, eyes welling with tears, “s’too much.” He growled at your weak protests, tightening his grip on your neck.

“I’m not going to stop.” He almost laughed at the idea. “This cunt is mine and I’m going to use it until I'm satisfied.” You mewled at the possessiveness in his voice, but it quickly turned into a pained moan, the longer he kept using your sensitive body. Despite the overstimulation, you could feel the embers of arousal in your stomach coming back to life. You loved that he was desperate enough to keep fucking you even after you protested. You loved that every part of you belonged to him; body, mind, and soul.

He thrust into you with wild intensity, grunting and breathing heavily as he got closer and closer to his release. You weakly clawed at the hand squeezing your neck, but he was unmoving. Tears were brimming in your eyes now from the pleasurable pain, but that only fueled his hunger.

“This is what you fucking wanted, isn’t it?” He hissed, making you whine. “You went through all of this trouble,” his hand moved from your neck to roughly grip your jaw and turn your head to the side, giving you a perfect view of the dead body that started all of this, “so stop fucking whining and take it.” He growled. When he pulled your head back to face him, there was a grin on your face at the reminder of what you did.

“God you’re so fucking sick.” He muttered, but his tone was full of love and admiration. Leaning down quickly, he pressed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss and his hands eagerly ran over your body as he chased his orgasm. When he pulled back, far too soon, you let out a needy whine that went ignored by him. “Should I give you my come?” He cooed, mockingly, but you moaned anyway. “I gave you my ring, my last name… might as well give you my kid too, right?”

“Fuck… Jon, please-” You gasped out, feeling another orgasm building.

“Yeah? Is that what you want? Because I can give it to you, baby… All you have to do is ask.” He said teasingly, but the breathlessness in his voice betrayed his composure— he wanted this just as badly as you did.

“I want it.” You whined, making him chuckle at your lame attempt.

“Do better.”

“I,” You started, but cut off when his hand reached down for your clit again, making it infinitely harder to speak. “I- I want your come, Jon. Want your kid.” You choked out.

“You want me to fill you up? Stuff you full of my come, so deep that you’ll have no choice but to get knocked up?” You moaned loudly and nodded, unable to respond as the pleasure consumed you.

“Please… Please fill me, Jon. I- I want to be yours even more than I already am.” You whined, feeling an almost carnal need to be completely his, in every single way possible.

“Good girl.” He gave you a pleased smile, making your cheeks heat up. “I’m gonna give it to you, I just need you to come for me first. Can you do that, darling?” You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish.

“Yes— yes, I’m close..” Sometimes you forget that he knows your body better than you do. He knows exactly what to do to push you closer to the edge, or pull you back down from it. And right now he was forcing you closer, giving you no other option but to come for him.

“C’mon, baby… Let me make you mine.” He begged softly, making you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. You barely lasted another second before the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped, feeling so much more intense than your first orgasm. You cried out and dragged your nails across his back as you arched up into him. He was pounding you ruthlessly, still rubbing your clit, and the orgasm almost felt a little too good to solely be pleasurable because of the overstimulation.

Once he knew your orgasm finally faded, he brought his hand back up from your clit and focused on fucking you, hard and fast. You were sobbing out moans, tears brimming in your eyes as he continued using your sore, sensitive body for his pleasure.

“Please— please come, Jon.” You whimpered, staring up at him with teary eyes. He cursed under his breath and let his head drop into the crook of your neck. Once again, you felt trapped— forced to take what he wanted you to. He was grunting quietly and panting as he built up to his orgasm.

“Jon..” You sobbed, making him groan. The movement of his hips became strained for a second, then he was pushing in all the way, deep enough to make you whine at the uncomfortable pressure on your cervix. He was moaning quietly and panting against your neck as his come finally spilled into you, marking you as his. You mewled and squirmed, arousal pooling in your stomach once again. He kept his face buried in the crook of your neck as he calmed himself down, chest heaving. When he pulled up to look at you, he had the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“So pretty, darling.” He whispered, brushing the tears from your face and cupping your cheek. “And all mine.” You gave him a dopey smile at his words, then pulled him down to kiss you again. This one was far less animalistic, but it wasn’t even close to lacking in passion. When he pulled back, you reached for his left hand, bringing it up to your lips and gently kissing the ring on his finger, keeping your lips just barely touching his hand as you responded.

“All mine.”

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