#just as masochistic as they are tbh

[wakeywakeyjakey]

you know those fanfics that subtly (or blatantly) break your heart so much so that you have to take a good long pause and go be in the real world for a minute because it’s just so… ouch? i feel like that 99.99% of batjokes ffn lol

[demonophilia]

i need to have weird depraved gross sex or im going to fucking die

[necrotic-nephilim]

"How else am I supposed to learn if you don't punish me?" With Jason x Bruce ship pls 🙏

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

fucked up BruJay my beloved. this is. honestly more emotional whump than physical and the romance is implied, but i do like this piece a lot, even if i struggled with it a bit. have 2.2k of Bruce and Jason struggling to get along. enjoy <3

Sometimes, Jason did it on purpose.

He knew Bruce’s patrol route better than anyone. Which was by design. Jason wanted to know where Bruce was, what he was doing, and who he was doing it with at all times. And really, Bruce didn’t seem to be stopping Jason from keeping tabs. None of Jason’s carefully placed trackers were removed, and Jason knew better than to assume Bruce had lost his touch. Bruce knew they were there, and he knew they were Jason’s.

So if Jason wanted to avoid Bruce, he knew how to do it. And when he really did want to get work done under Bruce’s nose, it was easy for Jason to dance around Bruce’s schedule and send him tail spinning just trying to keep up with Jason.

But some days, Jason didn’t want to avoid Bruce. He wanted the thrill of the chase.

So he got caught on purpose.

He picked a gang on the side of town Bruce always patrolled at this hour. He used the loudest guns he had with no silencers. He started the messiest brawl he could.

And he waited.

Jason didn’t have to wait long.

Like it always was with Bruce, the entrance was dramatic. Shattering glass as a large form with an unfurled cape descended from the skylight. Jason smiled under his helmet.

There were already at least half a dozen dead. The rest were running around like ants, either trying to get away from Jason or futilely trying to fight him.

“You’re late!” Jason shouted over his shoulder. He dodged a batarang thrown in his general direction. “I expected you to get here at least five minutes earlier.”

“Robbery a block away,” Bruce said brusquely. He turned to a few gang members with tire irons and shivs lifted, ready to charge Jason. “Run. Now.”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

Jason raised his gun to shoot one. He wasn’t particular about who he picked. He knew it didn’t matter. The bullet wouldn’t actually hit them.

Because just on time as Jason squeezed the trigger, a batarang buried into his hand. He swore and dropped the gun.

“Enough, Hood,” Bruce said coldly.

Jason smiled under his mask. “Someone’s gotta clean up this city.” He lunged for another thug.

Bruce’s body was like a battering ram, slamming into Jason. He was heavy enough to knock the wind out of Jason, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Jason groaned, trying to throw Bruce off of him. When that didn’t work, he went for his belt, grabbing his kris dagger and flipping it around.

“Do you hold any value for human life?” Bruce demanded. He grabbed Jason’s wrist and pinned it against the ground. “These aren’t supervillains, they’re normal people down on their luck-”

Before Bruce could finish talking, one of the gang members bashed him over the head with a wooden plank. Bruce’s cowl was reinforced, but the little bastard had managed to hit hard enough to snap the plank clean in half. A grunt was forced out of Bruce and his whole body buckled.

Now that was just rude. Bruce was Jason’s meat, not some stupid punk’s. Possessive jealousy flared through Jason, watching Bruce wince in pain to a wound Jason didn’t give him.

“Yeah, they seem real grateful to their savior,” Jason sneered. He threw Bruce off of him and grabbed the gang member. A wiry thing, probably still a teenager. Jason twisted them around to hold his dagger against their throat with his fingers buried into their hair, holding them still. A horrified noise came out of them. Not that Jason particularly cared. He wasn’t the one stupid enough to try beaning Batman with some plywood.

Bruce was on one knee, looking up at Jason. “Don’t.” His fingers twitched toward his utility belt.

“You can’t stop me,” Jason taunted, pressing the blade against tender flesh until the person was squirming in his grasp and blubbering out incoherent pleas for mercy. “Hands where I can see ‘em, B.”

If Jason was anyone else, Bruce would’ve stopped him by now. A quick flick of his wrist to hit Jason with a tranq dart, was how he guessed Bruce would do it.

But he wasn’t just some rogue. He was Jason. And that made Bruce go still, actually listening to Jason’s demands.

“You’re just doing this for attention,” Bruce said carefully, keeping his whole body tense, but not moving it. “Let them go.”

“It’s working.” Jason shrugged, adjusting his hold on the stranger. “So can you blame me?���

“There are other ways to do it without-” Bruce briefly looked around the room at the bodies littered everywhere- “casualties. And innocent hostages.”

“Innocent?” Jason laughed. He turned to address the person he was holding. “Do you think you’re innocent? Why don’t you tell the Batman where these drugs were getting funneled.”

“I don’t- please, I just help packaging- I didn’t-”

Jason huffed in annoyance. “I’ll tell him for you. The middle school down the street. And if there was extra supply, the youth center just around the corner from it too. You remember that youth center don’t you, B? I slept there sometimes as a kid. It was warmer than the streets.”

Bruce’s mouth faintly twitched. His jaw was set. Jason could see him grappling with the rage of knowing exactly who these low lives were dealing to, while still wanting to tell Jason off for all the ugly murder.

How contradictory that nasty little moral code of his could be.

“Let them go,” Bruce spoke slowly, “and we’ll work together to figure out how-”

“Oh don’t even pretend,” Jason laughed. “Don’t pretend you would work with me for a second.”

“Let them go,” Bruce repeated. He seemed to pointedly avoid admitting to Jason’s point.

Jason let out a long hum like he was thinking about it. “I don’t know. What’s one more to my body count?” He started to press the blade.

Bruce moved inhumanely fast. He kicked up, knocking the knife out of Jason’s hand without hitting the gang member. His hands went for Jason’s throat and he managed to get Jason back on the ground. The gang member ran off, footsteps echoing until they were gone while Jason and Bruce grappled, trading punches and kicks until Bruce managed to pin Jason down. Blood was pouring from Jason’s nose and Bruce had human claw marks across his cheek.

Rough. Animalistic. Just the way Jason liked it.

“Why do you do this?” Bruce spoke through grit teeth. “Why do you make me do this?”

“Like you said,” Jason grunted, trying to twist out from Bruce. “I like the attention.” His struggles only got him pinned harder. Bruce forced Jason facedown against the concrete, with an arm twisted behind his back. Jason’s helmet was torn off and tossed to the side.

“I never want to hurt you,” Bruce actually sounded choked up about it. “Why do you have to take it too far every time?”

Jason would give anything to see his face, right now.

“Maybe I want you to hurt me,” Jason said. He looked at his hand resting against the concrete, blood still pouring out of the wound the batarang left. it was a bright, pulsing pain that danced across his reality, making his blood sing. He hoped it would scar. Another to add to the collection of ones he’d goaded Bruce into giving him.

“Why?” Bruce’s voice broke on the word. It was an ironic thing. How badly Bruce wanted to show Jason his mercy. His gentle side. And how badly Jason wanted Bruce’s violence. He wanted Bruce to fight Jason until Bruce’s knuckles were bloody and Jason was barely conscious. He wanted to feel Bruce’s violence down to the marrow.

Jason craned his head back to look at Bruce and smiled. “How else am I supposed to learn if you don’t punish me?”

Bruce stared. For a long moment, he was silent. Jason listened to his breathing like a lifeline. “You don’t actually believe that.” his voice was soft and laced with something that sounded dangerously close to concern.

Sentimental bastard.

“No,” Jason admitted. “We both know I’ll never learn.”

To prove his point, Jason grabbed a stray piece of glass from the ground and stabbed it into one of the weak spots on Bruce’s armor. It made Bruce’s grip loosen enough for Jason to roll free and try to kick Bruce in the face.

Bruce wasn’t fighting him. He only blocked Jason’s blows, and even then, let some of them hit. It was like fighting a brick wall. Hard and unrelenting.

It was starting to piss Jason off.

“Don’t be afraid to hurt me now, Bruce,” Jason said through grit teeth, throwing another punch. It sailed uselessly over Bruce’s shoulder when Bruce easily dodged.

“No.” Bruce’s expression was unreadable under his mask. “I’m not playing your game, Jason.”

“Damnit!” Jason could feel his anger threatening to take control. He kicked Bruce hard in the shin, forcing the man to his knees. Jason ripped Bruce’s cowl off. He wasn’t stopped by Bruce. Hard blue eyes stared up at him. Practically emotionless. “I know you hate me. I know you’re itching to rip my head off for…” Jason spread his arms, gesturing to all the bodies. “For this! For everything I’ve done.”

Bruce shook his head, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. “I don’t hate you, Jason. I could never-” He doubled over when Jason’s knee connected with his stomach.

“Well you definitely don’t love me,” Jason snapped, ice dripping from his tone. “If you did… if you loved me, you would let me have this.”

“Killing people?”

“Hurting me,” Jason corrected. He snatched his kris off the floor from where it’d fallen to. He stared at the blade. “I’m sick of your pacificism. I’m sick of you pretending you don’t crave hurting someone and pretending to be someone you’re not.”

“I’ve never pretended,” Bruce looked at Jason through careful, hooded eyes. “That want… that need has always been a part of me. I take too much pleasure in hurting people. Pleasure in believing they deserve it.” He studied Jason for a moment. “I never wanted it to consume you the way it consumes me. Because I know it’s something you can’t come back from, once it takes root.”

Jason hated it when Bruce waxed poetic. It was a whole lot of bullshit that meant nothing to Jason. It did nothing to fight the roar of rage building in Jason’s chest.

“Do you want to hurt me?” Jason asked.

He needed Bruce to say yes.

He knew Bruce wouldn’t.

Even if it was the truth. Which now, Jason wasn’t so sure.

Bruce was silent. He didn’t give Jason any answer, not even a change in expression. Bruce just pushed himself to his feet and looked at his cowl that Jason was still holding.

“I love you, Jason,” Bruce said. He grabbed the cowl, but Jason didn’t let go. “I want to help you. Please let me help you in any other way that’s not… this.” Bruce’s thumb brushed over the still bleeding gash on Jason’s hand.

Jason tightened his grip on the cowl. “I’m not giving you the free pass to sleep easy at night,” he hissed. “You can’t take back any of the scars you’ve given me. And we both know sooner or later, there will be new ones.”

Bruce tore the cowl out of Jason’s hand. Before putting it on, he started to reach out for Jason’s face, but seemed to think against it, hand abruptly dropping. He opened his mouth to say something. An apology, probably.

A muffled, crackly voice came from inside the cowl. A police scanner, by the sounds of it. Jason only caught the words bomb threat and hostages.

So much for Bruce’s attention.

“Come with me?” Bruce offered, pulling his cowl on.

Jason shook his head. “You know you don’t want me there.”

“I always want you-” Bruce cut himself off, seeming to realize how dangerously vulnerable his words were. “The offer to come to me will always be open, Jason. You know that.”

Jason’s fist curled and his blood dripped onto the concrete. “Go to hell.”

Like that, the intimacy was gone. Bruce put his emotional mask back on to go with his physical one and turned heel, walking away. Jason just watched him go, some part of him foolishly waiting for Bruce to turn back and say something. Anything. He could get any other hero to handle the bomb threat. He could spare Jason just a few more moments of arguing and fighting. Maybe even something more.

But of course, he didn’t.

[zukaiaz-x]

I need a fanfic where it's hurt/comfort except it's a lie and the fic makes me feel like someone stabbed and twisted the knife in my stomach

[fuckmeuselessdegen]

need to put a cigarette out on whitney. even if pc doesn’t smoke that regularly and only does around him, it needs to happen. just a little way to mark him as ours.

[crimsongrimoire]

masochist wrio is real. To Me.

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

extreme kink below be warned it’s graphic

won’t lie I need some pretty painted long nails to sink into my fat and draw some blood, or if they aren’t present teeth will work. Show me how much you love me by shredding me.

[putrid-sex-machine]

thinking abt when i realized i wanted 2 be bitten… thinking abt that “oh shit” moment when we made eye contact and they ran their tongue over the skin while bitting down harder. thinking about how it stayed with me all night & i pressed down on the bruise until it faded

[gummy-sharks666]

The way the dub handles heavy topics in GI is so insane bc they’ll be like “yeah this 20 year old makes the conscious decision that leaving his partner bakugan to his friend and FALLING TO HIS DEATH is better than trying to make it through this war” and there’s fucking techno music playing in the background

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Kyoshi, when she first sees Yangchen: ?????!!! MOMMY????!!! Yangchen:

[chrlotpony]

.

[randomositycat]

I can never get the "hypocrisy of jinmao" post out of my head but I couldn't find it BU T I JUST FOUND IT AND WHEEWWWWWWW girls I'm so strapped in for this wild ride... I might have to read the LN... I think i might... idk how long I can wait for all THAT nonsense to come into play WHEEWWWW

[luciality]

too busy enjoying life to be on tunblr. rest assured my feet are so fucked up rn

[gobbluthbutagirl]

before you leave: how are you how is sc

i’m normal and sc is a flyover state between hell and purgatory

[pyrodolls]

superfan! yandere boy x gn! popstar reader

✰ warnings: stalking, obsessiveness, breaking and entering, nsfw, masochist yandere, overstimulation, thigh riding, bondage, male masturbation, unhealthy behavior, average yandere tendencies, male yandere oc (he’s very pathetic and perverted, it’s giving “step on me” energy.) gender neutral reader

✰ a/n: heyyyyy guess who isn’t dead.. i literally open tumblr every 3 minutes i just haven’t been posting. but i’m hereeeee lol. here’s a random yandere oc post, sorry it’s not mortal kombat. (tbh i have faded away from my mk obsession and now i am obsessed with until dawn, the quarry, tlou, and rdr.)

part two here!

superfan! yandere boy that buys all of your merchandise and streams your music on loop 24/7. even while he sleeps.

superfan! yandere boy that commissions artists to draw you and him together in different styles. some of them may depict him on a cute date with you, and some are more explicit and depict you stepping on him or choking him.

superfan! yandere boy that sneaks into your concerts if he didn’t manage to buy a ticket. no matter how strong your security is, he will always manage to find a way in and pretend he's just a regular fan.

superfan! yandere boy that will even sneak onto your house and film you through your window for hours, and then he would go home and touch himself to the footage of you.

superfan! yandere boy that wants to buy meet-and-greet tickets to see you, and be able to feel your presence up close and be able to speak to you personally. but as much as he craves your attention, he knows he wouldn't be able to handle it and would crumble immediately the second you look him in the eyes.

superfan! yandere boy that pays people to stalk you and take pictures of you when he can't do it himself. especially ones when you have a wardrobe malfunction.

superfan! yandere boy that goes to sleep every night fantasizing and dreaming of you. his particular favorite wet dream is of you letting him ride your thigh, grinding against your skin as a desperate attempt to feel any friction on his cock. your hands would roam around his body as he relishes in your attention, no matter where you touch him. any small nudge or brush against his skin would set his heart on fire and oh no where'd his pants go-

superfan! yandere boy that thinks you could do no wrong. you said something offensive and got yourself cancelled? he is your number one defender and would be threatening your naysayers on the internet. he would even go as far as to learn to hack just so he could delete their accounts.

superfan! yandere boy that almost WANTS to get caught. he knows he wouldn't be able to handle your attention, so he avoids it, but a part of him wants to get caught and outed for his perverted, stalker ways. he wants to hear you cuss him out and degrade him. he wants to see the disgusted look on your face as he is exposed for everything he did. spit on him, kick him, treat him like vermin, he doesn't mind. he gets off on the thought of you punishing him. he has a particular fantasy where your punishment for him is by tying him up and overstimulating him until he is crying, whimpering, and almost fainting. but he would still beg for more. no matter how long it lasts. it could be a week long and he still wouldn't be satisfied.

[blindedguilt]

((from @booksofthelibrary ))

The young girl runs up behind the boy and sprays him playfully with a little bit of water. A harmless prank as she giggles before handing him a brand new net that she made for him. A 'R' carved into its handle.

"happy birthday!"

::RIVERSAL

"Waaah...!!" A sharp squeal erupted from the boy at the feeling of cold water on his back, the momentarily cry of shock quickly turning to a string of bright giggles as he flicked back a few drips from his hair towards Daffy. "Oi, you!! I'll get you for that, you know! You better watch your back, miss..."

He could hardly say he was displeased at her betrayal so much as pleased he had someone to play with! His brothers tried, but could never fully get in on his games, whether it be through confusion or other business they had to attend to.

Admittedly, though he would never say it out loud, he secretly felt rather jealous, perhaps even upset at the news of her getting together with Lukhege when he had initially found out. It was frustrating, in a way - he had finally found himself a friend to play with, and for what? ...Yet, even despite those initial worries, he was glad to be further comforted in the thought that he hadn't been forgotten by her presence with him that day.

The once beaming smile faded with the momentary rush of excitement and into curiosity as he was offered the finely crafted net. "Oh...This is..." A soft red creeped up to his cheeks with a sheepish, somewhat awkward look to his smile as he idly turned it over in his hands. It would have seemed forced in a way that he was trying to smile if not for the faint twinging at the corners of his lips threatening to break out into a wide grin. For someone who was usually so excitable, it seemed Riversal in particular had the most trouble accepting gifts - even compared to his younger brother Laum, who, while sheepish, was always capable of clearly showing his gratitude. Riversal, however...

The boy's long coat swayed as he rocked back and forth once on his heels, unable to fully look the other in the eyes as he spoke in a quiet, awkward little peep. "Thank you, Daffy... This is... Nice. Um...! Thank you. Well..."

Promptly, he spun on his heel, took a few awkwardly shuffled steps, and sat with his back turned and his feet spread to either side of the net he held between his legs. Though she couldn't see it, it wasn't hard to guess how red his face must have been as part of the kind gesture.

"...Come back later," He said suddenly, a flatly dismissive, determined tone to his voice, "I have something to think about." One of his tricks, now involving his new present, most like. "Thanks... Again."

His next words, though meant to be spoken in a tease, came off as nothing but a half-hearted suggestion in all his distraction. They were nothing more than a mouthed, near-inaudible whisper as he stared and plucked idly at the strings of the net with his fingers, too deep in thought to even notice the water dripping from his hair, much less to speak. "...Go chat with your boyfriend..."

Whatever could he be plotting? Whoever could he be plotting against? Riversal didn't speak, and sat there deep, deep in thought for a very long time.

"Hah! Got you!!"

...Ah, poor Leonard. It seemed that he had been chosen the unfortunate victim of his prank that evening. From a distance, the small Riversal could be seen standing triumphantly atop his older brother's back like a proud hunter with his prey. Leonard, conversely, would have been near invisible if not for his large form and the striking beige of his coat against the greenery of the forest. The poor hermit laid cruelly fettered on the ground, all that was visible being the blond of the head that laid face-down and the shoulders of both arms spread on either side. The net that had toppled him should have been relatively easy to remove from the foot tangled within it - his brother that stood on his back, however, was not.

"Please, release me at once!" The muffled plea sounded from the ground. With a dramatically boisterous laugh, Riversal's hands found themselves resting smugly atop his hips.

"No! I've got you, now, brother~!"

"Riversal! Please!!" A bit more insistence in his tone, and enough in a voice as deep as his to make the now 11-year-old almost immediately jump out of his skin and straight to the side of his ailing brother.

"Sorry, sorry! I'm sorry!!" Riversal was the one pleading now, his tone as frantic and shaky as his hands as he removed the trap net from Leonard's back. The eldest looked pale as he sat up on his knees, deathly silent in the face of his younger brother's apologies and concerns as to his wellbeing - his eyes were screwed tightly shut. He seemed shaken, with his shortness of breath, Laum noticed with a tiny frown.

...Maybe he was claustrophobic? Poor brother.