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kurogxrix · 10 months

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Look Don’t Touch

Dad!Mob!Bucky Barnes x Mom!reader

IN WHICH you accidentally walk onto your husband and his men during a meeting, clad in nothing else but a tight fitting top and a baby in your arms. The sight is enough to send the many men drooling, but Bucky reminds them that you’re only his to look at, and will always be.

WC: 2.1k

You wished you could have turned back to the few seconds you’d lived through before stumbling into your Husband’s office door. The silence in the room was deafening, at least for you it was. Alpine was all the least bothered, the white cat jumping across furniture to furniture without disturbing the decorations within. Your footsteps faltered quickly, suddenly stuck in your spot as you fell under the eyes of the familiar people that sat around the long meeting table. Men to be exact, the same exact group of men that had always been there to accidentally witness too far into yours and Bucky’s marriage.

Over the course of your relationship with Bucky, there had been one too many times where your husband’s men had caught you in compromising positions. Given that you were posed in such, you were always clad in near to nothing. The most you’d get to cover yourself with during those unfortunate times that you’ve gotten caught was either the thin material of yours and Bucky’s bed sheet, or his discarded suit jacket as he pounded you from behind on his work desk. One too many times of embarrassment and humiliation on your side.

You were sort of sure that Bucky’s eyes were literally shining at the mere sight of you. Although he wasn’t the only one that was caught in a trance after your sudden appearance. The sight of you clad in nothing else but that fitting tank top that you'd wear to sleep was enough to make a grown man shiver.

The stretchy fabric pressed around all the right areas, and the extras clung around your protruding belly. God and how much you hated that, your postpartum body that you’d glare at in the midst of the night while your baby laid sleeping. How It would take so much time for it to go, and how much you’d wish to have your old body back. Though Bucky loved it, he’d never fail to remind you of how beautiful you were, of how normal this all was because you had literally been carrying a whole baby inside of there.

You knew how much your husband loved the sight of that little belly of yours, but you’d never be able to tell how much it aroused the others as well. All of the eyes were on you, especially on how your breast threatened to spill out of the U-cut top that you wore. You were very well aware of the change, and how could you not? No matter the size that your breasts had been before, that had now tripled, if not quadrupled during pregnancy. They were so sore and heavy from carrying so much milk, and you cursed your husband for giving you a baby that required so much milk.

Not that you were genuinely complaining though, you loved your son more than yourself, and it didn’t matter if you had to suffer for him. You would and you were.

Nevertheless, you staggered for a second as you closed the door, suddenly very aware of the group of men that watched you and your baby gurgling across your chest. You adjusted your hand to pat along your baby’s back, standing up straighter as you shivered under all the eyes. No, you weren’t embarrassed because of your attire. In fact you couldn’t care less about that, you showing skin had never been a sore spot in yours and Bucky’s relationship, he had no concerns with you wearing revealing clothes.

In fact he loved that you loved your body enough to do so. At the start of your relationship it was hard for you to even open up to him about your naked skin, after being put down by the other men that were now an awful part of your past. He was by no means an insecure man, and you were by no means an unfaithful woman, so everything worked out as it should.

Furthermore, Bucky loved the sight of those snobby men checking you out at every given moment that he’d be far from your reach. He loved the sight of seeing those desperate men tracing your form as though to map it in their minds, a memory that they’d keep until they’d finally arrive home late at night, hands sinfully low in the shower as cold ran down their backs.

Bucky loved watching those scums approach you as though they had a chance, before seeing you mouth what you’d always say. “Not interested, I'm married.” before shoving your ringed finger in their face, a wicked grin plastered on your face before turning around to look for your loving husband. It was funny to him, watching their downturned expressions and you’d stare at your ring with such admiration, so much love that you held for him and him only.

Though on the few unfortunate nights where those ratty men just refused to understand, he’d make sure to make his way to you. Towering over the men no matter their height, an intimidating look crowding his face as he keeps his arms around your form. He made sure to send one of his men after the cowering scum at the end of the night, and much to your confusion, you’d somewhat never seen them again after that.

It was a funny sight at first, seeing your 6 foot tall, tatted mafia boyfriend getting all giddy because you’d confessed that you were finally confident enough in your skin to start wearing more open clothes. You were wearing those clothes by your own want and will, because of your newfound confidence and self love that you developed because of him. Your loving, mafia boyfriend that was now your husband, and inevitably the father of your child.

Now as you stood in Bucky’s office, you were simply embarrassed because you’d accidently interrupted your husband’s meeting, the defect of your motherly brain, you’d forgotten to knock before entering. Now everyone stared at you like a deer in headlights, you couldn’t help the heat that crept up your neck.

“Detka, is there anything that you’re looking for? Anything you need?” you watched as Bucky stood up from his chair at the head of the table, making his way towards you as the heels of his expensive Italian dress shoes clicked against the marble floor. You wanted nothing more but to melt onto a puddle at the sound of his gentle tone, and your fatigue did nothing to help ease that thought.

“A-actually I was going to ask you if you were hungry but now I see that you’re busy so, I’ll just ask again later,” you stuttered, rambling your thoughts as you urged to leave the room. If not careful, you could’ve slipped alongside your innocent baby as you left the room, but Bucky couldn’t just let you go like that. Sure he wanted to ask you what was wrong, stop you and demand why you’d rush out of the room. Not out of preeminence, but out of worry.

Though it was obvious by your nervously racking eyes and straight posture that you wanted nothing else than to leave the room, he followed you instead. Carefully clicking the door shut behind him, he left his men inside of the room to wonder by themselves. Bucky considered them family, like brothers, so they’d understand. He was sure of it.

Bucky turned around after closing the door, catching you bouncing your son back to sleep after you’d heard his weak grumbling. Your husband watched with heart eyes as the little Lev raises his even tinier fists to your chest, throwing an unreasoned angry fit against his poor momma. A raspy chuckle escapes Bucky’s throat as your son’s fists come crashing down against your collarbone rather robotically, and it’s not strong enough to even hurt you, but odd enough to startle you for a second.

Finally deciding to snap out of his awfully lovestruck trance, he sauntered towards you. The palm of his hand was warm against your arm, and it somewhat comforted you as you relished in his touch. “What’s wrong malyshka? Everything’s alright? Hope little Lev isn’t causing you too much trouble, god knows how loud he’s already been since this morning.” your husband joked, but you shuddered at the memory of getting begrudgingly out of bed at 4 in the morning because of your yelling baby.

Your heart picked up the pace at the sound of the nickname he’d reserved for you, and you felt yourself going shy before the very own man that’d seen every part of you, beyond and inside. Everything.

“I was making lunch and I was going to bring it to you, but I forgot to knock and look at where that brought me.” you laughed off the memory now that it was over, there was no need to drown in remorse over such a silly thing. Bucky’s eyes flashed towards the side table that laid against the wall near the huge doors of his meeting room, and apparently you had no free hands either because there laid a plate of his abandoned lunch upon the smooth wooden surface of the table.

It was his favourite dish, and Bucky unconsciously smiled at the thought of you being so keen to bring it to him because of that. Your husband’s baby blue eyes racked your body once more, taking notice of the pair of oversized sweatpants that you were wearing, those that were so obviously his. The sweats were so big on you that the strings upon your waist were painfully tightened, but no matter how many pairs of your own that your husband would buy you, no matter the price or top notch quality, you’d always find more comfort in his old, worn out ones that he’d beg you to throw away.

“You’re so beautiful, Malyshka. Thank you for the food, I'll have it as soon as I'm done with my meeting.” his warm, large palm cupped your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, relishing in his love before he leaves to tend to his work once more. Sure, you’d see him in a couple of minutes, and his free time would last until tomorrow morning, but you wanted to be with him 24/7.

Bucky’s eyes then trailed down towards Lev, who was peacefully drooling away with his head squished against your chest. With his thumb still rubbing soothingly at your cheek, Bucky signalled you to go relax with Lev until he orders his men out, then motioned to one of the nearby maids to take his plate back to the kitchen until he was done, just so you didn’t have to move your pinky more than you needed to.

With you back in the comfort of your plush king sized bed alongside your son, and Bucky’s consciousness now at peace, he made his way back towards the heavy doors of his meeting room. The look on his face changed as soon as the doors clicked shut once more, and this time, the softened look completely left his features. There were no more signs of tenderness upon Bucky’s face.

The change was intimidatingly scary, his face now completely still and the menacing glow in his eyes did nothing to soothe them. For, it wasn’t like Bucky’s team believed that they were innocent. You didn't need to be hawk-eyed to see that they were obviously ogling you, their boss's wife, and the mother of his child at that.

Rolling up the sleeves of his suit jacket, the exposed sight of his fully tattooed arm made the grown men shiver. Forlorn excuses of men lowered their heads as Bucky walked past them, a sign of respect as though they hadn’t just snubbed him by looking a little too hard at what was his.

Yes, Bucky would call these people his brothers, and yes he did appreciate them when times came.

He often took the role of the eldest in the family. He was highly respected upon the mob, and he cared for them as they did for him. Yet living under his roof required to obey the rules that he had set up, and the most important one was; look, don't touch.

Though they’d manage to abide by that rule for as long as they’d set foot inside his home, they were truly starting to test their luck. Tonight, Bucky would make sure that none of them returned to their rooms without being taught a new additional rule. Perhaps this one would take the top place above the previous one, and this time, there’d be no more looking allowed.

i profoundly apologize to y’all bcuz this is my first Bucky ff and idk wtf this is

#bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #dad!bucky barnes #dad!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #husband!bucky barnes #husband!bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #mafia!bucky

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lynxgriffin · 7 months

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Eldritchrune - Asriel Investigates

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

In his quest to find Kris and discover what might have happened in Hometown, Asriel goes digging for some arcane information. But is his canine companion actually helping him with useful knowledge, or just getting him into trouble??

Also, just in case the text is hard to read in his old books, here's a text version of what's in the two books under the read more!

From Denizens of a World of Darkness:

Sealed too in this dark realm are beasts of immense size and terrifying power, said to speak in tongues unknown to man. While varied in size, shape and abilities, these beasts share a similar nature of feeding upon humans and their souls. While impossible to know for sure, it is speculated that the inherent potential within all humans is as nutritional to these monsters as bread and meat is for man. If these beasts were to be released into the world we know, a great roaring calamity would come upon the land. Even the most practiced of magicians would struggle to stop such creatures. It is, therefore, a great relief that these beasts are unable to leave the Dark World of their own accord.

From Comprehension of Greater Demonae:

Most contradictory among the demon monarchs of the Dark World is (Ralsei), a prince of darkness. This entity embodies the shadows cast by the hearth, the loneliness of spaces between the warm comfort of company. Fire and shadow alike are attributed to this demon.

This being is said to quell any enemy, no matter how great a threat they may be. And yet, other tales describe this demon as akin to a pleasant neighbor, delighting in companionship. Much debate has ensued over reconciling these two narratives.

But is this truly a contradiction? The fire that burns pleasantly in the hearth and warms the family home is the same fire that burns down a city and devastates the lives of all who live there. Brotherhood becomes the madness of the mob at the turn of a coin.

No, the true terror of Ralsei is the loneliness said to reside in whatever spaces a demon’s soul would be, if they possessed them. This demon will do all that is asked of it to obtain the ultimate prize: a human soul forever bonded to it in the [cut off]

#lynx art #eldritchrune #deltarune au #asriel #annoying dog #PHEW the backgrounds are what killed me on this one #and even then I cheated where I could on those #it's like the dang ball pit all over again

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starwikia · 2 months

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so like are we done with the idea that james is a victim of the internet harassment mob or whatever you guys like to call it when in reality no one like forced him to be part of the public eye again. he had multiple times to disengage but he threw himself head first into the spotlight with some half assed apology where he used his dead mom, illiterate dad, and like 293 mental illnesses that he was in the right to do a widdle plagiarism but it’s not his fault! it’s everyone else’s fault for not being nice to him about it!!! how dare these people bring these issues to the public not thinking how james would feel about it! like ppl are forgetting there was notable period of time james went off air entirely. and every time he’s jumped back it’s always attempts to paint himself as the victim.

like be real for a second if anyone was weaponizing the internet harassment machine it was james somerton. he knew what he was doing when he posted that note. he knew the shit his victims would get for having the crime of (checks notes) voicing out their issues with him. he knew there’s people out there who are foaming at their mouths to use anything they can get their hands on as a “gotcha!” at hbomberguy (right wing people yes, but don’t act like it’s just them i’ve seen plenty of lefties trying to prove they’re superior to harry). they don’t give a shit about james, not really. he’s the dude who hbomb did a “hit piece” (yes that’s a term i’ve seen people use) and that’s what matters.

not to mention the writing that’s also very clearly targeting nick who’s basically cut ties with him at this point. james pushed all the burden on nick by saying it’s their fault, actually. he’s one of the co-writers and everything going to shit was nick’s fault when they had the audacity to move. james is faultless! with james still trying to monetize stolen content on the blatant lie that he’s doing this for nick’s sake as a portfolio. acting as if nick isn’t an sentient human being who could upload their own content, as if nick would even want to be associated with james at this point. this isn’t a teenager being harassed for an honest mistake, this is a 35-year old con artist who’s stolen hundreds of thousands and peddled the most vile shit as actual history but realized he was in deep shit and weaponizes very serious mental health issues as a “i’m just a poor little gay baby!! my alter ego did it!!!”

for the record if you’re among the people who tried to wash down james’ crimes as “he just did plagiarism!! it wasn’t that bad of a crime!” fuck you, man. i’m not kidding.

the fact i’ve witnessed people whitewash his acts of racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, antisemitism and misogyny (in fact i’m probably still missing a few things here), and say he’s being harassed by the internet just because he stole articles makes it so clear they have no fucking idea what they’re talking about. his shit isn’t fucking erased just bc he realized that he has to handle the consequences. he’s grasping at anything he can at this point to make sure that even if he’s not coming back, he’s sure as hell trying to take anyone he fucking can down with him.

he doesn’t get a second chance to be a content creator at this point. he doesn’t get to show himself to do better. he needs to fucking leave. and if he tries to publicly make himself the victim then he better know that he’s going to get public backlash.

if anything situation proves to me that he can never be trusted with a public platform ever again because he will immediately guilt people into feeling sorry for him.

#i’m going to be bitchy about this for the record #james somerton #hbomberguy #the funniest option is if james fakes his death like a fourth time and someone takes a pic of him in like a burger king or something.#updated i’m not 100% sure on nicks pronouns but i’m using they them just in case #update 2: the way i was proven fucking right immediately after posting this. you people are not real.

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year

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I Got Reincarnated As A Server NPC In An Otome Game But A Capture Target Won’t Leave Me Alone (Yandere!Diluc Ragnvindr/Reader)

a/n: fasghadsa this is my thank-you fic for @poptartsthings for supporting my fics for the past year!!! thank you for the tips huhuhuhu ;;;—;;; hence, I wrote this diluc fic for *clears throat* "mommy milkers". Enjoy this self-aware yandere otome game!duke diluc ragnvindr!!!

unreliable synopsis: what if you got isekai-d in your favorite otome game and one of the Love Interests found out they aren’t a real person? (or, ya know, whatever the title said lmao)

"Bottoms up, Duke Ragnvindr!"

"No matter how enthusiastic you are, I remain inclined to think that this is a horrible idea, (Y/n)..."

Reluctantly swirling a small amount of fire-water while wearing gloves, the duke saw how the alcohol hardly made a wave. Unsatisfied, he diverted his attention and observed the NPC pour their drink.

"In all honesty, your grape juice is worth more than this, (Y/n)–"

"Shush!" With a flamboyant and dismissive wave, the generic common mob silenced one of the Main Characters. "Don't ruin the mood, now. I had to pull a few strings to get this bad boy right here. It’s such a shame that Mister “Best Boy” Albedo can't come, so we have to make sure I get my money’s worth off of these bottles. It’d be such a waste of francs."

"Wasted like the thousand francs wine you clumsily spilled last year?"

"Don't bring that up again, please."

"Why not?" He chuckled. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't have met you."

"If I hadn't, I would've been drinking with Villager B..." They muttered as they grabbed another glass from the cupboard.

He pretended not to have heard it.

They are both aware that their destinies follow different paths. No matter how hard one of them tries to walk next to the other, this cruel fate will separate them with a penalty that is even more agonizing than the last. All because (Y/n) was a real person, and Diluc was not.

Duke Diluc Ragnvindr is this game’s easiest route: the typical childhood friend who falls for the heroine– Princess Lumine– first. In this genre, he falls into the category of those love interests who are incredibly austere with themselves that they were unable to enjoy the small things in life outside work. Ultimately, he follows the cliche of protecting the heroine from harm until she remembers that they used to play together as children in the palace gardens. Which, in itself, is quite a feat since the duke was not a man many could befriend. Unless you count Chief Justice Ajax as his greatest comrade, then perhaps he could finally add item number 11 to his list of trusted people.

The “Duke of the South” only favored audiences for those he was willing to invest in— after all, he’s famously known for having a “good signature.” It may seem like a compliment for uneducated nouveau rich men, but those with an eye for Gaciean politics knew how much power he has as the head of the Department of Military Affairs. Tales about his on-and-off disputes with the Chief Ajax circled as frequently as Teyvat Time’s popular Paimon-The-Friendly-Fae’s comic strips. Some loved his obsession with national security whilst some were quick to call him a pampered weapon hoarder, but if there’s one thing everyone can agree it’s that they fear the southern duke.

Now, after introducing a political figure with crimson locks of hair and domineering combat prowess, it’s certainly a tough sell to introduce the last person left inside: (Y/n) (L/n).

Unremarkably, they’re merely an NPC from Xiangling’s Seaside Restaurant. They’ve “reincarnated” into this world fumbling about like a newborn until the chef offered a job. Fortunately, they were not completely helpless in the kitchen. They had shown off their managerial skills from their old job since day one. Since then, Xiangling had hoped to train them as the new manager, but (Y/n) preferred to take on some responsibilities gradually. After a few days had passed, they abruptly realized that they were "Server C," an NPC with only a character sprite and a scarcely distinguishable name. The red ribbon-theme outfit from their restaurant was the only thing that distinguished them from the other faceless workers. According to what they can recall, one of their tasks is to give the princess's order of candies while she flees from her overprotective retainer, Dainsleif. It was a tense moment in that common route since all three of the princess’ potential suitors were customers from different ends of the restaurant, which were Dainsleif, Kamisato Ayato, and, of course, Duke Ragnvindr.

… Unable to snap out of their initial shock after recognizing that this was one of the game’s CGs and seeing three attractive men inside the restaurant they work at, (Y/n) accidentally broke the script by spilling the wine on Duke Ragnvindr’s coat.

Since then, (Y/n) had trailed and followed the characters whenever they could for their amusement– often helping their favorite love interest, Albedo, set up the scene so they can view his "CGs" in real life. Due to their apparent lack of stalking skills, they had another off-script encounter with the duke whilst doing so. Instead of heading straight to North Gaciea as he had done in the game, he was delayed seven hours after he weeded (Y/n)’s hair out of the bushes they were hiding in. Their first meeting was horrid, and their second almost went in a similar direction. Almost.

Since (Y/n)’s lies were as visible as their head peeking out of their hiding spot, Diluc had them drink a truth potion to uncover why they were stalking the chief alchemist, however…

… Does the phrase “the truth is stranger than fiction” apply in this case when both the earth and the sky are nothing but lies?

Diluc put on a convincing poker face when they babbled about the game they live in, demonstrating both their objectives and, more critically, their in-game omniscience. Albedo is the only love interest who changes into a feral (and subjectively "hot") monster toward the end of the novel, thus (Y/n) was adamant that he be Princess Lumine's ultimate endgame—but going any further in their explanations would be deemed a "spoiler." Additionally, Albedo’s route could only be unlocked once you finished another character’s route first… and that character happened to be Diluc Ragnvindr himself.

———

“In layman’s terms… We are living in a complex romance novel-esque system, correct? And I am the ‘book’ people often recommend to start the series with first before moving on to the sequel?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“… and I am just a stepping stone for a happier ending? A pawn? A mere puppet for someone chasing a momentary cure for loneliness?”

“Well, it felt real to me when I played your route—”

“Perhaps, but feelings do not change what is real and what isn’t.” Diluc sighed, unsheathing his dagger to break off the ropes that held the server down.

(Y/n) traced their wrists, appreciating now how gentle he had been when he could’ve gone rougher.

“Diluc…”

He bit his lip. It pained him to hear the server call his name as if they knew him.

They spoke as if they were friends the whole time right after they just revealed that his life is a self-fulfilled prophecy of unrequited romance.

And it was insulting.

———

The two have come a long way since then. He lost his faux feelings for Lumine. After gaining self-awareness, Diluc had begun avoiding what occurs in the game’s plot under the NPC’s guidance. To improve Lumine's chances of acquiring Albedo's route, (Y/n) was more than happy to assist him, so they started exchanging chats that ranged from oblique threats to routine discussions only friends could have.

Even so, (Y/n)’s attempts were futile when Albedo revealed to both of them that he knew he’s also just a character since the day he was “created”, and that “I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped attempting to produce an inorganic chemistry between the protagonist and me.”

…The chief alchemist was a smart one for sure and his confrontation had sobered (Y/n) fully. Although Albedo will never be the princess’ endgame nor will he turn into an apocalyptic dragon, (Y/n) had earned his friendship and started treating the rest of the cast as people and not just characters.

Diluc gazed out the window.

It was late into the night and rain was falling. There was not a single domestic sound emanating from nearby homes, which was a wise choice since annoying harpies would have gathered at the sound of human noises. Birds accosted the drying trees and roofs as fog swept through the streets. With the exception of this seaside restaurant, most stores were noticeably closed. The downpour buried the sound of crashing waves just a few meters outside, so no one would have known that this was close to the beach.

"Huh," (Y/n) stared in the same direction. "Didn’t expect it to rain tonight. Guess you can't escape this cheap alcohol-tasting session, huh?"

In the course of his outdoor nightly training, the head of the Department of Military Affairs grew incredibly resilient against mere storms. "I don’t need an umbrella."

"Fair," they laughed, distinctly human compared to the usual polite chuckles he would hear from leeching nobles. "But oh, dear Duke, if you don't need an umbrella then why are you still here? Is it because you wanted to see me– w-wait hold on—I'm kidding— sit down!"

…

They reached for his arm, but try as they might—

their hand only passed through.

The two stiffened.

Diluc’s breath hitched.

That was proof.

Because of this scripted fate, a commoner like them can't even grasp his hand, let alone touch it. Not when the system outright denies the friendship they have.

An NPC like (Y/n) can’t remain friends with a main character like Diluc once they have fulfilled their role in their story.

Diluc was untouchable.

He closed his eyes. Just acknowledging this pains him.

They both sat back down.

Much like how Diluc had pretended not to hear their comment earlier, (Y/n) also pretended that nothing unreal occurred seconds ago.

"S... So, is there anything else you want with that?" They pointed at his glass. "We have a crap ton of limes and cranberry juice! Oh, but I'm not sure if it would taste that good if we mix it, haha."

He could practically hear them force that laughter right out of their throat. Diluc hurriedly swallowed the fire-water they offered him since neither could stand the awkward tension. Diluc cringed.

"Oh, sorry, was it too strong?" Many nobles who detained the duke with platitudes were met with sarcastic comments, but he never hated (Y/n)’s idea of small talk.

"It's fine." He spoke huskily.

"Does it need lime or any add ons–"

"It's fine."

"... Okay."

The silence was painfully awkward... Perhaps Diluc shouldn't have threatened Albedo to sit this one out. He wanted an opportunity to be alone with (Y/n), and this is far from what he had hoped would turn out. Diluc's forehead creased as he held back what could've been a long somber sigh.

"How's work?" He asked.

"Oh, it's been alright."

That doesn't sound promising. This was a trick up his sleeves to snap them back to a cheery mood. Usually, they’d start rambling about their regulars and watch how endearingly entertaining they are. There should’ve been a quip about Itto’s TCG losing streak or how Kunikuzushi and Kazuha were arguing again over where they should place their tent for their next travels. This time, (Y/n) barely uttered a phrase.

They continued, "I don't suppose I could ask you the same, given that most of your work is confidential–"

"The Holy Kingdom’s crown prince visited North Gaciea today."

"Oh?"

Finally, he could see them smile for just a bit. Of course, they’d be interested to hear about Zhongli since he was the poster boy for the game’s sequel. Fortunately for Diluc, (Y/n) never got to play the game.

"That's wonderful! I was waiting for an English Localization of the sequel for soooo long! Was he hot? I bet he’s gorgeous as fu–"

"No."

"No...?"

"I mean." Diluc cleared his throat. It's barely even a shot of fire-water and he's already getting impulsive. "I meant that I cannot discuss the matter further. I am not like Kaeya. This is confidential, like what you had said."

"Ah..." Their eyebrows furrowed "I see…"

Why did they sound so disappointed?

Is (Y/n)… bored of him?

Diluc digressed, "how's Dainsleif?"

"Dain?" Their nose scrunched. "I haven't seen that poor guy for weeks now. He’s probably escorting Princess Lumine to Justice Ajax’s territory like in the game. Why?"

"Kamisato Ayato?"

"Ah, he ordered a crate of Dango milk yesterday," they laughed softly. "I'm amazed at how that man is barely affected by the script. I mean, I guess that’s to be expected when your route can only be unlocked by choosing three unsuspecting dialogue options. I don't think he talked to the protagonist at all these past two years. You’d think Lumine would’ve raised her wits stat high enough to attract his attention, but alas, Lord Ayato’s still lounging around East Gaciea doing Venti-knows-what."

He wasn’t paying attention to their ramblings. All their names sound bitter in Diluc's mouth. Unlike Albedo and Diluc, the rest of the Love Interests are free to interact with them as an extra. Server C had also performed their last scripted interaction with them, hence, (Y/n) can never touch Albedo and Diluc again.

Retainer Dainsleif of the West, Lord Kamisato Ayato of the East, Chief Justice “Childe” Ajax of the North, Chief Alchemist Albedo of Who-Knows-Where, and Duke Diluc Ragnvindr of the South… Princess Lumine certainly had fine options.

The Duke just wished the otome game scriptwriters would’ve let him have his own choice in the matter as well.

(Y/n) rested their elbows down on the table as they gazed into Diluc's distant eyes.

"Why did you ask?"

Diluc frowned, He admits it— (Y/n)’s eyes are nothing to write home about. When compared to an ephemeral beauty like Princess Lumine, their ordinary (e/c) eyes and visage hardly qualify as "distinctive traits." Their vibrant red ribbon is the only thing separating them from the street's grey residents. Yet he can still tell it's them no matter how big the crowd is. No matter how much they look like an “NPC”, to him at least it was a face worth seeing. Even if they mesh into a blob of slime, he can sense their essence through and through.

Although he can now barely make out the features on their face, nothing on this false earth can convince him that he wasn’t talking to the love of his life.

"I..." Diluc loosened his collar, suddenly growing hot at the intensity of their stare. "I simply wished to learn how the two other Love Interests are doing. I’ve had a chat with Ajax, and he still acts like a quote-on-quote “yandere” as you had explained before."

“Is that all?”

Diluc nodded.

"Ah," They shrugged. "Got my hopes up there– I thought there are other “Wasureta: No More” CGs I haven't seen yet."

Diluc smiled and took a drink.

"Ahh..." He exhaled, his eyelids fluttering shut in the process.

"You okay there pal?" They asked. "I know I said we shouldn't let any of this go to waste but you know I can just store them back home right? Oh, you can have some too but I don't think you'd like so–"

"I'll take a bottle."

(Y/n)’s eyes widened.

"Y-You..." They stuttered, "You sure?"

"Yeah," Diluc mumbled, lying to himself. "It tastes okay."

They grinned. The sight makes his decision all the more worth it.

"Haha, great!" They fist-bumped the air "See? Told ya cheap fire-water tastes good!"

Don’t get him wrong, he's not taking one home because of its taste. He's taking one home because it might be the last memento he'll have of (Y/n).

"Hold on, let me get a ribbon." They opened their palms to stop him from leaving. "Can't give the great Duke of the South something that looks barely presentable now would I?"

They left him with a skip in their steps. Diluc smiled.

Now that he's left alone, he silently wondered:

Just how long can he last before he tells the NPC that he wants to ruin their friendship?

———

Along with the sounds of gutted flesh reverberating through the tunnel's dark passageways, a man's hysterical laughter echoed. It was mostly silence in the caves, and there is a strong sense of loneliness upon entering the vicinity. Humans and animals alike would feel as though there is no life inside those walls, but the joyous yet hollow laughter came from the end of the tunnel.

And on the other side, you'll find a red-haired man at his wit's end.

"Tell me..." His words dragged out in a low growl as he grabbed a fistful of the bloody and tattered blonde's greasy hair. The man whimpered from his touch. "Was it fun? Laughing at my misery this entire time? Were you laughing along with them? Lumine, Dainsleif, and all the rest?! Did I put up quite the show there?!"

Crown Prince Aether trembled.

Duke Ragnvindr had everything figured out.

———

“There’s one regret I have now that I’ve isekai-d in this game.”

“What was it?”

“It’s just that,” (Y/n) sighed. “I never really got this game to a 100% completion.”

Diluc raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by their obsession with Wasureta, “and why is that important?”

“Hey! It’s pretty damn important!” (Y/n) grumbled. "Tsk, if only I finished your bad endings… The guides say once you do that, you’ll be able to unlock a secret route.”

“A secret route?”

“Yeah,” they shrugged.

“I’ve read some spoilers from Otomekitten's blog and get this— the last route reveals where Lumine’s brother had been hiding all this time.”

———

The nerves on the back of Diluc's palms were more noticeable as he pulled the poor man closer. Simply put, their faces did not resemble what mankind should look like; rather, they were an animalistic representation of a predator and prey. Hitherto it had disturbed Prince Aether in his rests, but it was too late when he finally acknowledged that something unhinged lay dormant inside the duke.

"P-please..." He coughed. Blood started drooling down the edge of his lips. He assumes that a few of his teeth are likely knocked in, and he can feel his canines prodding inside his throat. "H-have merc–"

With alarming ease, Diluc threw him in the direction of the shelves. The blonde fell and gasped violently when the splintered wood struck his shoulder. The gaping wound on his hips gushed out once more, bleeding onto his carpet and scattered notes. The duke was a monster. He intentionally missed striking his vital organs to prolong his suffering. More blood gushed from his mouth and the prince noisily wheezed out wet coughs.

His Highness has (Y/n) to blame for the hints they gave the duke.

If they hadn't had that conversation, Diluc wouldn’t have figured out that Aether created this “game” world out of grief for his dead sister.

———

“I’ve been alive here for a year or so but I can’t get used to how the harpies in this world look so tame.”

“Hmm? What else were you expecting?”

“Nothing much, it’s just that they look so different in the game’s beta.”

They shrugged. “Fun fact: did you know that “Wasureta: No More” was a fantasy-horror game before the scriptwriters decided to rewrite everything?”

———

"Tsk." Diluc spat and wiped his mouth with his last dirty palm as if there was a major difference. Both are equally soiled with oil and Aether’s blood; it wouldn’t have mattered.

The duke snarled aloud into a burst of savage laughter, "what's wrong, My Creator? Can't even muster up the courage to face your retribution?"

"F-Friend..." Aether called out, hoping to garner sympathy for the Diluc who once looked after both him and his sister at the royal gardens. Hoping to remind him that he was placed number 1 on the list of people the head of Military Affairs had trusted.

"Don't call me that," Diluc's grip on his claymore grew tighter until his knuckles paled.

"Du-Duke..." The blonde looked up. "I can't just... Rewrite this story again..."

"You can," Diluc spoke in a somewhat broken voice. His sanity may be waning, but he cannot deny that Aether was included in the list of the people the duke trusted. "We’re just characters you’ve written. You've done that before. You've done that to Lumine."

"And I r-regretted it!" He sputtered out, accidentally stronger than intended. The blonde scurried to lean against the wall as he feared Diluc would attack him for his offensive tone. "I regretted it. I thought I could revive my sister... I thought that would bring Lumine back into this new world. I thought it would bring her happiness if– if I gave her m-more options–"

"Forced options," Diluc grumbled, rightfully angry at the blonde's interferences. Based on his inference, three of the five suitors wouldn't have been whisked away by Lumine's whims if it weren't for her brother’s influence. And judging by his pained reaction, Diluc would be right.

"But she’s not my real sister.” Aether sobbed. “She never will be— she’s just an image I had of her. And I-I still ended up making this false Lumine more miserable."

"No shit." Diluc snickered with narrow eyes. "You made her miserable—"

The duke just wished he knew where Aether was from the very beginning. He would've had Prince Aether's head before this whole damn game even started.

"And you made me so fucking miserable, Crown Prince," Diluc muttered.

“I just wanted to be with (Y/n).” He breathed in shakily, “is that so much to ask for?”

"P-Please, listen to me." Aether wept. "Ch-Changing someone's fate brings more harm than good!"

THUD.

Aether shook as a claymore thrust through the concrete just a hair beside his ear. He gulped under the towering gaze of those piercing red eyes. They glowered over him, and they were far from pleased. Aether was too terrified to look away as he saw how Diluc's eyes spiraled into the abyss. The air was thick with heat emanating from Diluc’s pyro-abilities. The sound of the metal rang in the prince’s ears like a warning, thus, the strength in his shoulders weakened and his muscles have gone mushed as he cowered down.

Changing fate brings more harm than good? What a joke. By the looks of it, letting fate run its course only puts the prince in greater turmoil.

Maybe Diluc should offer his head to Her Highness. It doesn't matter whether he lived or died, does it not? If she's so desperate to find the missing prince again, it wouldn't even matter what state his casket is in.

"Di–"

Aether couldn’t breathe.

"Don't struggle."

Diluc effortlessly slid the prince's entire body up the wall after grabbing his throat. Aether's feet curled up as he struggled to steal a breath. He tried to kick and claw Diluc's arms away, but the man stood his ground. Ruby eyes continued to pursue him with an icy rage that Aether was all too familiar with.

The fact that they both placed a lot of faith in one another was a mistake.

Aether's eyes started to tear up involuntarily. Diluc spoke those words as if they weren't threatening remarks, but a merciful command. Yet it doesn't change the fact that he intended to assassinate the prince with his bare hands. Aether began balling up his fists and striking him, but it was ineffective.

"..."

Diluc coldly watched his stomach bleed out like a student dissecting a frog.

Aether's vision clouded. As he flailed his limbs like a wild animal, dark blotches started to appear in his line of sight. His fingers are unwittingly clawing at everything as the adrenaline starts to kick in. Aether never wished to harm a soul, but at that moment he was aiming for Diluc's eyes.

His survival instincts kicked in.

He can't die.

Not like this.

"Si–..."

Lumine. Sister.

Aether needed to apologize to his sister.

He still hoped to say sorry— sorry for leaving her to run a kingdom alone— sorry for not being able to save her in the original timeline—

sorry for resetting and rewriting the game just to see her alive and happy again.

Aether had so much unfinished business piled up. So many discoveries he has yet to pen down. He can't die here. He mustn’t.

He grabbed something. A fleeting crimson near his assailant's collarbone.

Was it Diluc's hair?

He pulled harder. All his strength was wasted on that sliver of red hope. Anything that would get his assailant to stop.

And Diluc did. His grip on Aether's throat loosened as the prince fell back on the floor. Aether wheezed, his vision slowly returning to him. His bated breathing echoed inside the room as his eyesight returned to him. When the prince's eyes finally focused sharply, he saw silk.

This wasn't Diluc's hair, it was–

"(Y/n)’s ribbon."

Diluc used the very same ribbon (Y/n) to decorate a bottle of fire-water with to tie up his hair.

Aether shivered.

"It seems like you wanted to choose your death."

Oh fuck, oh fuck.

Aether looked up. He shouldn't have looked up.

Duke Diluc Ragnvindr's face was red with a grin uncannily reaching his ears to a degree that shouldn't be possible. His expression was akin to a lovesick young adult twisted to its extremities. He appeared to look excited. To think that he burns up by just a mention of this person’s name makes Aether sick to his stomach.

"Allow me to heed your last wish, Your Highness."

The prince felt his whole body tense up as Diluc wrapped the ribbon around his neck.

Diluc did not give him any more room to breathe as if his body was moving automatically.

This wasn’t Diluc Ragnvindr anymore.

His eyes were empty.

This was a man possessed.

"Ch...de..." Aether forced out his last words as the ribbon quickly wrung around him.

"S..ve... my... s....ter"

———

Diluc only pulled out of his trance after he started washing the blood off his hands. Elzer subsequently informed him that the duke had entered the manor bloodied and unkempt with no recollection of how he got there and that he had strolled carelessly to the restroom like a corpse. There was a commotion across the entire Ragnvindr manor and rumors that he had lost an unpleasant duel quickly circulated. Better that than the truth, he supposed. Even his memory of what transpired in Aether's basement is hazy. Diluc only had their red ribbon and the idea of winning in his mind. He refused to let things continue as they are.

It wasn't until he started drying himself with a towel that he realized that the crown prince perished by his hands.

To think that Diluc used to be so terrified of offending royalties– of accidentally slipping a lese-majeste out of his lips– but now he let a royal's soul slip out of his wrists.

It's invigorating.

Diluc not only tied his fate with theirs, but he successfully managed to cut their ties with those disgusting vermin they call their “regulars.” They can't have them anymore, and they won't even intend to reach out. No one remembers who Server C is. They are now alone together with him. He’s the only person they can depend on. Diluc's breathing heaved lower. Just thinking about their inevitable dependence excites him.

He quietly closed the door behind him.

"Good evening, Server C." He smiled. "Or, should I say, my beloved?"

Just the two of them.

They won't look at anyone else. They can't. The whole world will now feel what he felt when he was unable to touch (Y/n). Only HE has the privilege to hold them now.

It's just the two of them in this world left. After all, there is no statute of limitations once you learn how to play Creator.

Diluc Ragnvindr had successfully rewritten this game’s script.

He no longer carries any in-game responsibilities, much like how there is no Lord Kamisato, Justice Ajax, Retainer Dainsleif, and Chief Albedo that exists in this “script.rpy” file.

It’s just him and his beloved server, alone.

Diluc wiped his mouth. He's practically dro– no, his mouth is literally watering at the thought. Diluc's heart is pounding, almost threatening to break free from his ribs.

"I’m all you have now, (Y/n)." Diluc's gaze softens. "Isn't that wonderful?"

His hands reluctantly traveled under their blanket where their hands should be, scared that when he reaches out, he'll feel nothing there.

He felt their warmth.

Diluc grinned tearfully. He can finally touch them again. He felt their fingers crossed miraculously against his own.

"You’re so warm..."

He gently rubbed their calloused hand against his cheek.

No matter how overworked or ragged these hands were from washing the dishes, for him, they were silk to touch. So soft. So vulnerable.

Diluc swallowed his saliva with great difficulty. God. They’re so vulnerable right now. So peaceful. So fragile. His breathing increased in volume. He could just take them right here–

His bottom lip started to bleed. He was doing everything in his power not to cave in but his throat was starting to get parched. He breathed in deeply.

Not now. Please, not right now. Not when they probably don’t remember who he is.

Diluc wanted to see the look on their face as he finally kisses them. What expressions will they make? It's not fair to both of them to steal such a moment when they’re asleep. That's not what he had been waiting for. Not what he's been craving.

"My beloved, you're a beauty from afar, but you're even more flawless in my arms," Diluc muttered over their ear.

"And I'll do everything in my power to let it stay that way. Fate and the entire world be damned."

-----------

A/n: want to read more of this in a visual novel form? It's here :)

Edit: HERE'S THS IMPROVED SPRITES AND OVERALL UPDATED GAME!!!

#yandere diluc #yandere diluc x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere diluc ragnvindr #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #tag: otome game au #yandere male #tw yandere #male yandere #yandere #genshin impact #x reader #ansy-writes

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dilfl0v3rss · 11 months

Note

oh so people getting bold in the requests?? CONNIE AND ONY THREESOME??🌚

THISSS THE ONEEEEE. I BEEN THINKIMG AB THIS FOR WEEKSSSSSS. ima doooo mob boyfriends!ony and connie since it’s been in my brain for a minute😛😛😛😩😛😛😛😩😛😩😩

ours

cw: polygamous relationship!!!

word count: 2.1k

part 2

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

your boyfriends were feared by many. mean and dangerous men that nobody ever dared to question. they were the monsters the kids hid from and the bad men parents want far away from their daughters. you, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. everyone always seemed to gravitate towards you due to your kind and caring nature. you made people feel safe and welcomed no matter what they may be going through.

when you’re out with connie and ony, strangers would have to sometimes do a double take to make sure what they’re seeing is real. a soft and sweet looking girl wearing cute little outfits with pretty colors being accompanied by two brooding men on either side of her, wearing no other colors but black and grey. it was not a normal sight to see. “ooouuu what about this one papi. you said i look pretty in blue.”

the three of you were currently in a boutique in the mall. looking for different dresses to add to your never ending collection. connie, your more lenient partner, stood with his finger curled on his chin, thinking about the different looks you could achieve with the dress “hmmm it’s aight. i think you should get sum tighter.” you rolled your eyes, putting the dress back on the rack before walking to the next section.

“you only saying that so you can look at my ass.” before you could get far you felt a soft tug on your arm. “rolling your eyes is rude. i told you ‘bout that.” ony grumbled, staring down at your smaller figure. ony was the strict boyfriend. even though both of them were pretty stern, ony was the one that kept both you and connie in check sometimes since connie had a tendency of letting you off easy.

“sorry sorry…geez.” you sigh. he let go of your arm and the three of you continued your search for some new appliances. as you walked to your next store you notice a familiar man standing by the pretzel shop. “sean?” the brownskin male lifted his head from his phone, bright smile immediately forming on his face as he spotted the source of the voice. “y/n?? oh my god hey sugeeee? how you been?” you squealed before running into the arms of your old friend.

you and sean were friends in high school who drifted away from each other since he moved away. “boy what you doing back in town? and why didn’t you call meeee?” as the two of you spoke ony and connie stood annoyed behind you. they were holding all of your bags as they watched this random guy practically eye fuck you every time you happened to be looking away. you were too oblivious for your own good.

“well it was nice seein you boo. hope we could stay in touch.” sean licked his lips, looking down at you as he opened his arms for a hug. you gladly stepped into the embrace for a couple seconds before trying to pull away, but you froze as you felt a palm on you ass. “uhh sean?” “huh? oh my bad y/n you know my arms are long.” you hid your uncomfortableness with a laugh as you moved back to go rejoin your boyfriends.

as soon as you turned around they were already by your side, staring daggers into the boy. “you wanna die nigga?” ony said before grabbing sean by his collar and pushing him on a nearby wall. sweat began to bead all over his forehead as he tried to plead with your man. “n-nah man ian mean t’do that i swear.” connie stood by you, arms wrapped around your shoulder as he held you to his chest. “bet not have or so help me god i will cut that hand off so fast. get the fuck outta here before i kill you.” connie added.

sean’s body dropped to the ground as ony abruptly let him go. he ran away and didn’t look back as he disappeared from your sight. when you got home you could tell they were a bit upset about the situation that happened at the mall so you decided that maybe you could do something to make them feel better. you ran to your room, putting on a pretty lingerie set before quietly making your way back downstairs. the boys were on the game, cursing each other out before you stood in all your glory in front of the tv.

“how i look?” you asked shyly, arms crossed over your chest to hide some of the skin from them. “move your hands baby. let papi see.” “yea no need t’be shy mama. it’s just us.” your boyfriends rose from the couch, standing in either side of you as they each pulled one of your arms from your chest. “you so pretty baby. making me real hard lookin at you.” connie mumbled while palming himself through his sweats. you squeezed your legs together at the sight before your attention was put on ony. “go upstairs ma.”

your hurried upstairs, sitting in the middle of your california king bed as you waited for your men to arrive. they walked in with a pair of fuzzy cuffs and a vibrator, both of their tattooed chests on full display for you as they approached the edge of the bed. “c’mere pretty girl” connie’s smooth voice rang in your ears, coaxing you to crawl to the edge of the bed. you sat on yours knees as you looked up at him. “gon be good for us, right?” his inked hand held your chin, lightly caressing your cheek as you nodded your head.

ony then softly moved your head towards him, giving you a kiss on the lips before giving you your first instructions. “turn around and arch your back mama.” you did as you were told. arching as deep you could before you felt your hands being bound behind your back by the cuffs. “gon make you feel so good mami.” connie said as you began to feel the bed dip. he made his way in front of your head, pants long abandoned as he sat in front of you in his briefs.

you moaned as you felt ony lick a long stripe up your pussy, stopping at your entrance to penetrate you with his tongue. “f-fuck daddy.” and sharp smack was delivered to your ass, connie’s light brown eyes scolding you. “watch ya mouth pretty. don’t wanna have to gag you.” your apology got stuck in your throat as you felt ony begin roughly sucking on your clit, connie lifted the front of your body up so he could slap his tip against your mouth before looking up at ony.

“ready?” the two of them nodded to each other before both thrusting into you fully, making you gag and moan at the same time. connie’s pace on your throat was slow rather than the quick deep strokes your other boyfriend settled for. “feel so good mama. gon make daddy nut fast if you keep squeezin like that.” your body was already feeling hot as you felt ony’s hands roam all over you.

running all over your back, softly touching all your rolls and dips. connie hand was buried in your hair, guiding your head up and down his shaft before occasionally pulling it out to slap it across your tongue. “eres guapa.” he sighed. your eyes were low and unfocused. your pink tongue hung from your parted lips, letting your drool fall all over his pink tip. you looked so fucked out and they’ve barley even touched you.

“mi niña bonita.” your moans went straight to his dick as you felt ony pull out of you. he got on his knees and began fingering you as a slow pace, digging into you softly before placing the vibrator on your clit. your body jerked at the sudden stimulation, pussy fluttering before his eyes as you whined onto connie’s dick. “i know princess, feel you squeezin around my fingers.” ony dug rougher into you as he turned the vibrator up to a higher setting.

your lips disconnected from connie with a pop before you gasped loudly. “r-right there daddy ohmygod.” your hips moved on their own. gravitating towards ony’s fingers to get him deeper into you. “you like how daddy makes you feel, pretty? like when he touches that spot right here?” connie said as he was now next to you, hand outstretched under you on your lower stomach as began to push on it. “answer me baby. tell daddy thank you for making you feel so good.”

connie whispered, giving you a light smack on your ass, dragging more moans out of you before you looked back at your boyfriends. their brown eyes stared right back at you as they waited for you to comply. “t-thank you d-daddy. c-can i cum?” the vibrator was soon removed from your clit as his fingers began moving in and out at a quick pace. “my pleasure mama, but not yet. how bout you get on your back. you want papi t’feel good too, right?”

ony said. his fingers left you empty before you turned around on your back. ony and connie gave each other knowing looks after looking at your confused face. why were the cuffs still on? “cant have you pushin on my stomach princess.” he mumbled as if he were reading your mind. him and ony switched places. light brown dick tapping against your clit as ony’s laid flat on your lips. “open up mama.” as your mouth slowly opened and he began thrusting into your mouth, you felt your other lover slap his tip all over your wet pussy.

your arousal splashing onto your thighs as your boyfriend watched strings of it connect him to you. connie sunk into you slowly, dick dragging against your wet walls until stopping at the hilt. your pretty moans were muffled by the thick dick between your lips, but the vibration of them sent shivers flying down ony’s spine. “s-shit. keep fuckin her like that baby. your mouth feel so good mama.” connie nodded his head in compliance, pushing into you the same way over and over again.

pace slow and steady as your wetness began to drip onto the sheets. “fuckkk mami. you so fucking wet f’me.” you felt your orgasm nearing as connie continued fucking into you slowly. his pace never faltering as ony watched his lip get buried behind his teeth. he was trying his best to listen to his lover, but the slow pace was killing him. “i-i can’t pa i wanna go faster.” he breathed, but was quickly met with ony’s hand on his. darker skin caressing his as he looked him in the eyes. “what’d i say?” ony said sternly.

“you said keep fucking her slow like this, but-” “but nothing. if that’s what i said then you gon listen right? or do i gotta teach you after m’finished wit her.” the interaction made your pussy flutter in a way that caused connie’s eyes to roll back. you were close to the edge and your squeezing made him closer as well. “n-no pa hah- m’listenin’.”connie moaned as his other hand found its was to your throat, squeezing it slightly to make it tighter for ony’s dick.

“good boy fuck-” ony groaned as he felt his end nearing. thrusting into your mouth with a little more vigor as his hot ropes slid down your throat. soon later you came, juices pouring out of you and onto the sheets as you shook around connie’s dick. “f-fuck m’gonna cum m’gonna cum princess.” connie moaned, picking up his pace as he rubbed on your clit. you screamed as more juices rushed out of you, spraying his stomach and thighs as he thrusted one more time and stilled, cumming deep inside of you.

all three of you stayed where you were as you caught your breath. “let’s get you cleaned up mama.” ony signed. the two of them made sure to clean the sheets before running you a nice bath. both standing at the door, watching you relax. connie’s head whipped towards ony when he felt a hand on his lower back. “you didn’t listen t’me earlier don’t think i forgot. ima deal wit you later.” he mumbled before walking off to go handle business downstairs.

connie’s eyes widened as he felt his dick jump in his pajama pants. “papi can you wash my back?” your voice startled him out of his thoughts, making him jump a little before smiling and walking towards your naked figure in the tub. “of course mi vida. anything for you.”

#aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black reader #aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot #aot connie #connie springer #aot smut #connie x black!reader #onyankopon x black!reader #connie x black reader #x black reader #onyankopon smut #connie smut #connie springer x black reader #connie #onyankopon #connie springer x black!reader

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 24 days

Text

By Order Of The Crimson Brotherhood.

(peaky blinder!harry)

masterlist || ask me anything

in which, the year is 1921, and the city of manchester is under the control of the ruthless gang the crimson brotherhood, so when there leaders wife gets mobbed in the streets on her way home from the farmers market, the styles brothers make sure they know she is one of there own.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - ik this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but i have 100% been in my peaky blinders era as of the beginning of the month, im already on season four 🙈🙈 and thought it would be kind of cute to join the two worlds together, don’t know if this will turn out any good but who knows?? anywho enjoy angels 💗💞

January, 1921.

Harry Edward Styles, a man born and raised in the city of Manchester, a man known for his ruthlessness, his strong will and his dangerous antics.

Him aswell as his brothers roamed the streets of Holmes Chapel, with razor blades down into the flat caps which ultimately led to fear seeping into the bones of there enemies.

Which they had a lot of.

The Styles Brothers were well renown around those ends, the family always had been, there father wasn’t present and there mother died when the youngest brother was barely a year old.

Harry met you, his gorgeous girl at the age of nineteen, the two of you were childhood sweethearts, destined to be together no matter the circumstances.

You were wandering around the streets, when you bumped into him and his elder brothers Charlie and George. You were about to fall to the floor but your wrist was captured in the hands of the leader, who caught you and raised you back to your feet carefully.

You asked how you could return the favour and he muttered something along the lines of ‘you could let me take you out for a night on the town’

And the rest was history.

When the war broke out, Harry knew for a fact that he would be getting called up to represent his country, and at the point the two of you were already engaged, but he demanded that the two of you be husband and wife before he was shipped off, explaining that if he was to die, he wanted to die as your husband.

So, the two of you had a small ceremony and you officially became Mr and Mrs. Styles.

When he returned home from war, he demeanour was slightly colder due to everything that he had seen and been through, he was colder to everyone around him, except for you.

He could never be angry, harsh, callous or aggravated around you.

People feared him before he went to war, but when he returned it was like he was a ticking time bomb, one wrong move and heads would be blown.

He ruled Manchester.

And that would never, ever change.

In the heart of Manchester, you move with the grace of a queen, your every step echoing the legacy of the Crimson Brotherhood, the notorious gang led by your husband, Harry Styles.

Despite the weight of your marital ties, you refuse to be confined by the expectations placed upon you.

Alone at the market, you weave through the stalls with purpose, selecting the finest ingredients for the dinner you plan to prepare for your husband, and his brothers.

Determination fuels your steps as you pick out fresh produce, savory meats, and delicate spices, each item chosen with care to create a meal worthy of the Crimson Brotherhood.

You approach the butcher's stall with a slightly sense of innocence, the scent of freshly cut meat mingling with the bustling atmosphere of the market. As you exchange pleasantries with the butcher, you can't help but admire the array of cuts on display, each one a testament to the skill and expertise of the person behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, love. What can I get for you today?"

Returning the smile, you reply, "I'm looking for four round beef steaks, please."

One for you, one for Harry, one for Charlie and one for George.

The butcher nods, already reaching for the desired cuts. "Ah, excellent choice. Coming right up."

As they expertly select the steaks, you engage in friendly banter. "Busy day at the market?"

The butcher chuckles, their hands deftly working the meat. "Always is, especially with the sun shining like this. But I can't complain, keeps me on my toes."

You nod in agreement, admiring their skill. "I can imagine. Thank you for always providing such quality cuts."

With a satisfied grin, the butcher presents the four round beef steaks, neatly packaged and ready for you. "There you go, love. These should do the trick."

"Thank you so much," you reply gratefully, accepting the package. "I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure," the butcher says warmly. "Enjoy your meal."

With the package of steaks safely tucked into your basket, you bid farewell to the lively atmosphere of the farmers market. The sun's warm rays still linger, casting a golden glow over the bustling streets of Manchester.

As you walk, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having secured the ingredients for tonight's dinner.

Reaching into your basket, you retrieve a pair of gloves, slipping them onto your hands with practiced ease.

Just as you're about to slip the second glove onto your hand, a sudden grip tightens around your arm, pulling you forcefully backward.

Startled, you gasp as you're dragged into the dimly lit entrance of a secluded alleyway, the bustling sounds of the market fading into the distance behind you.

Heart pounding, you struggle against your assailant, your fingers instinctively tightening around the basket's handle, the package of steaks forgotten in your grip.

Panic surges through you as you're dragged deeper into the darkness, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

As the man's grip tightens around your arm, you're suddenly face to face with a stranger whose features are etched with menace. His blonde hair falls haphazardly across his scarred face, the jagged line drawing your attention to the intensity in his eyes.

The overpowering stench of rotten egg fills your nostrils, sending a shiver down your spine as he speaks.

"Just the girl I've been looking for," he growls, his words sending a chill through your trembling body. Tears blur your vision as you stare back at him, unable to comprehend the terror unfolding before you.

He was Irish.

In a voice thick with malice, he continues, his words slicing through the air like a blade. "Your husband and his brothers owe me, and I aim to collect. And what better way to send a message than through his darling wife?"

You try to speak, to plead for mercy, but fear has stolen your voice. Before you can utter a word, his fist connects with your jaw, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Gasping for breath, you curl into yourself, the pain radiating through your body like fire.

The man's laughter echoes off the walls, cold and cruel. "They crossed me, and now it's time to pay the price. And you, my dear, are the perfect pawn in this little game of ours."

As he delivers blow after brutal blow, each impact driving the air from your lungs, you cling to the faint hope that someone will come to your rescue.

But as the darkness closes in around you, you realize that you are utterly alone, at the mercy of a man whose cruelty knows no bounds.

With aching limbs, you muster the strength to push yourself upright, the world spinning around you as you struggle to focus through the haze of pain and fear.

Casting a wary glance over your shoulder, you retrieve the basket of food that had fallen to the ground during the attack.

With trembling hands, you wipe the dried blood from the corner of your mouth, the metallic taste lingering on your tongue as a grim reminder of the violence you've endured.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, you force yourself to take a step forward, the basket clutched tightly to your chest. Your movements are slow and unsteady, each step sending waves of agony rippling through your battered body.

As you reach the end of the alleyway, you pause, casting a furtive glance around to ensure that no one is watching. The last thing you need is for someone to see you in this state, vulnerable and exposed.

With a silent prayer for strength, you begin the agonizing journey home, every step a testament to your resilience in the face of unspeakable cruelty. Tears threaten to spill from your waterline, but you refuse to let them fall, determined to maintain a facade of strength until you reach the safety of your own four walls.

With each agonizing step, you inch closer to the familiar sight of 24 Spring Lane, your sanctuary from the horrors of the outside world.

The journey that once felt like a mere stroll now stretches out before you like an eternity, every movement a testament to the relentless ache that pulses through your battered body.

Finally, you reach the doorstep, the key trembling in your hand as you struggle to insert it into the lock. Your fingers fumble with the familiar motion, the simple act of unlocking the door now a monumental task in your weakened state.

As you push open the door and step inside, relief washes over you, tempered only by the searing pain that courses through your body with each labored breath.

The injuries inflicted upon you by your assailant are beginning to take their toll, the dull throb in your ribs now accompanied by a sharp sting at the top of your eyebrow.

Unaware of your husband's presence, you stagger into the living room, your focus consumed by the overwhelming need to seek refuge from the torment of the outside world. But as you drop the basket to the floor and collapse onto the ground, a cry of pain escapes your lips, the weight of your injuries too much to bear alone.

In the dim light of the room, you catch a glimpse of Harry sitting in the corner, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

His expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond your line of sight.

As you collapse onto the floor, your body wracked with pain, Harry's instinct kicks in, propelling him across the room in a blur of motion. With a sense of urgency, he drops his cigarette and rushes to your side, his hands reaching out to catch you before your skull can meet the unforgiving wooden floor.

His eyes widen in shock and concern as he takes in the extent of your injuries, his heart clenching at the sight of blood staining your face and clothes. Gently, he cradles the back of your head, his touch both tender and urgent as he ensures your safety in the midst of the chaos.

"M’Love, what happened?" Harry's voice is thick with worry, his usually steady demeanor shaken by the sight of you in such distress.

He carefully brushes the hair from your face, his touch feather-light against your bruised skin.

You struggle to find the words to answer him, the pain making it difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak. But as you meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding that passes between you is enough to convey the depths of your suffering.

Without hesitation, Harry gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a fierce protectiveness that belies the tenderness in his touch. As he holds you close, you feel a sense of safety wash over you, a comforting reminder that no matter the trials you may face, you will always find refuge in his embrace.

As Harry holds you close, his voice filled with concern, he gently urges you to tell him who is responsible for your injuries. But fear grips you tightly, paralyzing your voice as you shake your head vehemently, unable to form the words to convey the terror that still grips your heart.

"Please, love," Harry implores, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reassurance. "Y’need to tell me who did this. I won't let ‘em hurt you again, I promise."

But the memory of the man's cruel laughter and the violence he inflicted upon you looms large in your mind, filling you with a sense of dread at the thought of facing him again. How can you trust that Harry's promise will hold against such ruthless brutality?

Tears stream down your face as you cling to Harry, your body trembling with the weight of your fear and pain. You long to confide in him, to share the burden of your suffering, but the words remain trapped within you, a silent scream of anguish and despair.

In response to your silent plea, Harry's grip tightens around you, his arms a shield against the darkness that threatens to consume you.

"I swear to you, (Y/N)," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within you. "Whoever did this won't ever be able to hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

"I... I don't know his name," you manage to say, your voice trembling with fear and pain. "But he... he had blonde hair and... and a scar."

Harry's expression darkens as he processes your words. "Patrick McDonald," he mutters, his voice laced with anger and recognition. "Bloody hell."

Another wave of pain radiates from your ribs, causing you to instinctively turn your head into your husband's chest, seeking comfort in his embrace.

As you lean against him, Harry's arms tighten around you, a silent vow of protection against the threat that looms on the horizon.

"I'll deal with him," he promises, his voice a low growl. "No one hurts my wife and gets away with it."

“George, Charlie!”

You hadn't even realized they were in the house, lost in the chaos of your own pain and fear, but now they appear, their presence a welcome relief amidst the turmoil.

With wide eyes, George and Charlie rush into the room, their expressions shifting from confusion to concern as they take in the sight of you battered and bruised on the floor.

"What happened to ‘er?" George demands, his voice edged with worry as he kneels beside you, his hands hovering over your injuries.

Harry's jaw clenches with barely contained fury as he speaks the name that has haunted your nightmares since the attack.

"Patrick McDonald," he growls, his voice thick with anger and determination.

Charley lets out a harsh breath, his expression darkening with recognition.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, his fists clenching at his sides.

As the gravity of the situation sinks in, George's gaze flickers between you and his brothers, his features set in a steely resolve.

"We need to find him," he declares, his voice firm with determination.

Harry nods in agreement, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.

"And when we do, he'll wish he'd never laid a hand on her," he vows, his voice a low growl.

With trembling hands, you grip tight onto your husband's waistcoat, your eyes pleading with him not to leave your side.

"Please, H," you beg, your voice wavering with fear and desperation. "Don't leave me."

Harry's gaze softens as he looks down at you, his heart aching at the sight of your pain.

"I have to, m’love," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "That bastard deserves hell f’what he did to you, and he's going to get what's coming to him."

You shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your bruised cheeks.

"But I need you here," you plead, your voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos of the room. "I'm scared, H. Please don't leave me alone."

For a moment, Harry's resolve wavers, his love for you outweighing the thirst for vengeance burning within him. But then, with a heavy heart, he gently extricates himself from your grasp, his eyes filled with determination as he rises to his feet.

"I promise, (Y/N)," he says, his voice firm with resolve. "When we find him, he's going to hurt just like he hurt you, s’a promise, and I never, ever break promises. He’ll get what’s coming to him one way or another.”

“By order of the Crimson Brotherhood."

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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Eddie's hard work has finally paid off. Corroded Coffin is the new sensation and soon enough, Eddie gets an invitation for an interview, one that could promote the band on a much larger scale. He's excited but also terrified and Steve, being the supportive boyfriend he is (and also CC's unofficial mascot, "the yellow sweater boy" or simply "Stevie" to the fans) offers to go with Eddie. Eddie introduces Steve as his "emotional support ex-jock" and it goes well.

Until it doesn't.

Eddie gets more lively as he talks about the band's beginnings, the inspiration behind their songs and their influences, his own musical idols and influences. He's at ease, gesturing animatedly as he explains the evolution of the band's style, so he's caught off guard when the interviewer brings up that fateful spring of 1986. Eddie freezes, opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The memory of snapping bones, feeling of helplessness...it all comes flooding back.

But where Eddie feels like curling up into a ball and hoping the world will finally leave him alone, Steve is ready and prepared. He grasps Eddie's shoulder - Eddie blurted out a confession in one of his concerts so it's no secret for his fans that they're together, but why tempt fate - and gives the reporter a wide smile, sincere to someone who doesn't know him. He slips into his charming persona and speaks for the first time during the interview. "Thank you for asking this question," he says and the drop of poison easily dissolves in the sweetness of his voice. "I hope my recollection will be enough because I sure don't want to have Eddie go through all that horror again. But I assure you...I was there for nearly all of it. So ask away. I'm glad to finally set the record straight."

And so Steve talks about that March, about how Eddie found Chrissy dead in his trailer, mutilated in such an inhumane way his body took control and got him out, no call to the police, not a single thought. He mentions there was a witness who saw him enter the trailer and immediately stumble out, not enough time to harm anyone (Max has stuck to this story and never changed it, no matter how much anyone pushed). He talks about how he met Eddie later, how shaken he was and how the town started a manhunt for Eddie for no good reason, except that he was different. "He started a club for kids who were outcasts, who just wanted to remain children for a bit longer - and the whole town went to hunt them down. They attacked a thirteen year old girl. They beat up a fifteen year old boy just for belonging to the club."

Now it's Eddie's turn to grasp Steve's shoulder, his arm, worried about his sharp tone, his hardly contained anger. But Steve carries on, staring the reporter down as he stutters that he will have to verify this information. "This is rather different from the official story," he says, his forehead glistening with sweat.

And Steve just flashes the disarming smirk that established him as King Steve once upon a time and tells him to verify it all, please. Because Eddie Munson has nothing to hide and neither does the Corroded Coffin. "It's not different if you paid any attention to the police report," he mentions calmly, leaning back in the chair. "People don't like to speak ill of the dead, but a dead person is exactly who's at fault here. Jason Carver riled up the mob. He bought a revolver after he did that, publicly for self-protection, but..." he shrugs, buries the edge in his voice under his charm yet again. "We have a witness that heard him admit who it was for." Dead men tell no tales, but Nancy Wheeler sure does.

And as the reporter scrambles to put together a coherent thought, Steve lands the finishing blow. "It's a shame you only invited Eddie to discuss this," he says and the sympathy in his voice is almost believable. "After all, his band mates were also targeted and attacked."

The reporter stares at him, speechless.

"Oh, you didn't know?" The disbelief is genuine for once and he leans in, looks the man straight in the eye. "Jason Carver and his friends went to interrogate the band, you know. Only to talk, they said. Except they almost broke Gareth's hand during that talk. Once again...there is a witness. A different one, if you were about to ask. Perhaps you should talk to them too, I can give your their contact details. You know," he adds, smiling at the reporter, "I am incredibly thankful you brought this up. There aren't many who are willing to dig up old wrongs to set things right. I wasn't sure what to expect of this interview, there was always a possibility of someone malicious taking advantage of this traumatizing event, just to get a shocking scoop on a bunch of guys who have worked incredibly hard to get where they are. I was wary because there are always people willing to destroy lives just to get a bit further in theirs. I'm so grateful you aren't one of them. Because I see you as someone who wants to do more than shock their audience...I think you're someone who wants the truth, no matter how ugly it is."

And no matter what the reporter intended before, he is that man now. He nods frantically, assuring Steve that he will bring justice to Eddie and the Corroded Coffin. Steve Harrington has that effect on people - if he believes in someone, that belief is often enough to give that final push. Anything to keep Steve Harrington's faith, not to disappoint that earnest look in his eyes. Eddie almost feels sorry for the reporter - after all, he knows the best what his boyfriend is like when he doesn't hold back. It's a sight to behold.

After a few reassurances from the reporter, the man finally turns to Eddie. "I apologize for bringing up bad memories, Eddie," he says and perhaps this time he means it. Eddie would like to believe that. "Is there...would you like to add anything?"

Eddie thinks screw it and firmly grasps Steve's hand, homophobia be damned. He needs to get through this. "Yes, actually..." he says and his voice is low, almost broken, but at least it's coming out now, carrying the words he's wanted to shout at the world for years now. "That night...was probably the worst night of my life. Worse than when I almost died. Well. When I actually died before someone brought me back," he smiles at Steve, briefly, before turning back to the man scribbling down every word. "It took me a long time to realize I couldn't have done anything to save Chrissy. Hell, some days I still don't believe myself, I'm thinking if I've done something differently, been faster, but...in the end, it didn't matter. Doesn't stop me from feeling like I failed her."

Steve knows these things, of course. That's why he doesn't interrupt, just strokes his thumb over Eddie's whitening knuckles.

"Chrissy Cunningham was a wonderful, bright girl. She was friendly to everyone, even outcasts like me. There is no way in hell I'd ever want to harm someone that...that warm. Kind. The truth of the matter is - for years I didn't defend myself against these accusations that still appear from time to time, no matter what the official investigation said. I didn't sue anyone even though I was advised several times to do so, for the slander, the attempts at my life. Because you...because I felt guilty just for being there. For surviving when she didn't." He looks at the reporter with full force now, straightens his spine. "But I knew Chrissy Cunningham and I know she wouldn't want anyone feeling guilty for something they didn't do. She brought joy to others, not misery. And I want to honor her memory. So once and for all, for the record - I didn't kill Chrissy. I never hurt her, couldn't have. But I still keep her with me as an inspiration, as a soothing voice behind every bitter thought - I don't talk about her, don't use her story for publicity because she didn't, doesn't deserve that. But she's what I think of when I see bright smiles of our fans, when I see young people having fun at our concerts - I wish, more than anything, that she could have been one of them. So I try to bring as much joy into this world as I can to make up for the empty space she left behind, even if that might never be enough. That's all."

The interview spreads like a wildfire. Headlines like "Corroded Coffin's Eddie Munson breaks silence for the first time!" or "CC's frontman reveals details of persecution and mass hysteria in 1986". The news pick up the story, question the people in Hawkins who deflect or begrudgingly admit to their actions, justifying their deeds...but some of them talk. Karen Wheeler becomes the star of the show, recalling in horror the hunt for her daughter and her son's friends. "I vouch for Steve Harrington's recollection," she says firmly, shushing her husband's feeble attempts at deflection. "I'm glad someone finally had the courage to call the spring of 1986 what it really was - a witch hunt."

Eddie finally has the courage to do what he's wanted for years - he names the next album This One's For You, Chrissy. The world knows now, it knows that he mourned for her in his own way and that she meant so much to him, as a first extended hand, as a symbol, as a human being. He donates as many profits as he can to a foundation in Chrissy's name, providing the much needed mental health support to Hawkins children and teenagers. And piece by piece, Eddie Munson heals.

Before the interview becomes the sensation it is, Eddie crushes Steve in a hug and thanks him for everything, for making this burden easier. He's still worried his words will get twisted, that there will be a new wave of hatred, but Steve just chuckles and kisses his head. He reaches into the leather satchel he had at the interview and presents Eddie with a dictaphone - everything they've just talked about recorded. "Please, Eddie," he rolls his eyes in that bitchy way that has Eddie swooning, "I may be pretty, but I'm not stupid or naive."

Apart from the much needed closure and at least partial justice, there is an unusual side effect to this whole ordeal - Steve gets a new nickname in the Corroded Coffin fan base. After the way he handled the interview, after shielding Eddie and his band mates from unwanted attention, he becomes "The Guard Dog Steve", also lovingly referred to as "Golden Retriever Steve". Eddie loves it. Steve finds it ridiculous, but it makes Eddie smile so maybe it's worth it.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie drabble #corroded coffin #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things drabble #protective steve harrington

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my-rose-tinted-glasses · 1 month

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BL Premiering in April

01/04 | 🇰🇷🇹🇭 Love is Like a Cat MDL When global superstar Piuno is threatened by those who wish to see him brought low, there’s only one thing he can do to save his reputation and his career: work at a pet daycare. Pushing aside his severe dislike for animals, Piuno begins working alongside the daycare’s director, Dae Byeol, who helps him find ways to overcome the trauma that first inspired his hatred of animals. As his heart begins to soften, unexpected feelings for Dae Byeol begin to arise. Could their current working relationship grow into something more?

03/04 | 🇹🇭 We Are MDL For this friend group, no matter how hard their university studies are, there's always something more to do their head in; the chaos of life and love won't let anyone rest. We are... friends, but we fight each other and like each other so much we might hit on each other.

11/4 | 🇯🇵 Living with Him MDL With his parents frequently away for work, Natsukawa Ryota had been the main caretaker for his younger sisters and the housework, but now he’s finally about to go to University, he’s looking forward to being able to live freely on his own! However, in a surprising turn of events, he’s surprised to discover his roommate will be his childhood friend Tanaka Kazuhito. Despite his picture-perfect looks and pleasant personality, Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend. Curious, Ryota accompanies him in searching for the reason why, but is unable to find any flaws and finds his heart fluttering over Kazuhito’s kind words and actions. As he gets to know more about Kazuhito, their relationship develops. Thus begins their cohabitation life where they’re mutually self-aware of each others presence! 11/4 | 🇰🇷 Gray Shelter MDL With no dream aside from to survive, Soohyuk reunites with his friend, Yoondae, who has no place to go. The two end up sharing space together; will this cohabitation spark something?

18/4 🇯🇵 At 25:00, in Akasaka MDL Shirasaki Yuki, a rookie actor, finally lands an audition and is chosen to star in a BL drama alongside current superstar Hayama Asami, who was also his senior at university. Feeling anxious and troubled before his first major role, Shirasaki is approached by Hayama with the proposal to form a “romantic relationship for the sake of character development” until the filming concludes. Their pseudo-romantic involvement off-screen leads to a moving and beautifully crafted love story exploring the intricacies of relationships within the entertainment industry and among actors. 26/4 🇹🇭 My Stand-In MDL Joe, the stunt man of famous actor Tong, happened to meet Ming. Having developed a deep relationship, Joe didn't realise that Ming had always seen him as Tong's replacement. When the truth is revealed, Joe has to take work on a foreign set where an accident takes his life. When he wakes, Joe's in the body of a young man likewise named Joe who'd met with an accident on the same day. With help, he's soon living the same life as he was before—with the same people—and he meets Ming once more. In this life, Ming wants Joe back at his side as before and Joe doesn't know why. Ming, who's kept all memories of the old Joe, tries to find the truth about Joe's continued life in order to return Joe to his side and give him the explanation he never had the chance to.

?/4 | 🇰🇷 Boys Be Brave! MDL Jung Ki Sub is Kim Jin Woo's slacker friend - and secret crush. So when Ki Sub asks to crash at his place, his heart tingles to be near him everyday. But as the short stay turns into permanent mooch, how long can Jin Woo keep his true feelings under wraps and hold back from confessing? ?/4 | 🇯🇵 A Man Who Defies the World of BL 3 MDL Mob realizes he’s trapped in a world straight out of a boys’ love comic, complete with typical love story scenes. Determined to remain a background character and avoid becoming the main focus, Mob tries to keep a low profile. However, in this sequel, the love and comedy intensify! In an ultimate BL world surrounded by extremely handsome men, will Mobu be able to avoid the situation where B becomes L? The main cast will return, with Inukai playing Mob, who fends off advances from handsome men tossing out “BL love flags.” Yutaro will return as his younger brother, Ayato, while Akihisa Shiono will be Tojo, Ayato’s lover. Asahi Ito will come back as Kikuchi, a college student who has a crush on Mob. Also couldn't find definite info on 🇹🇭 Knock Knock, Boys! to be sure it will premiere this month or not.

#upcoming bl #love is like a cat #we are the series #living with him #grey shelter #at 25:00 in akasaka #my stand in #a man who defies the world of bl 3 #boys be brave #rose reports #there are a lot so I was getting lost #these are the ones announced #still no int release info on some of them

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alexa-fika · 4 months

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Fists for Family (Rayleigh x gn!child!reader x Shakky)

A/N: Here we go! Originally, this was going to be just Rayleigh with Shakky just having one line or one action, but we need that grandma action. Who do guys want to see interacting with a child next?

Dividers by @saradika

Rayleigh sat in the Shakky’s Rip-off bar, sipping his drink and speaking with his wife, when his attention was pulled away from her to a newcomer.

“Oh Dear, What did you do now?” He asks as he sighs, setting his glass down.

“So-rry Grandpa,” the small child drawls

Rayleigh raises an eyebrow.

“Reader, Did you get into another fight?”

“…yeah,” they mutter.

Rayleigh is quick to give them a quick slap to the back of the head.

“Ow! Grandpa, what was that for! Grandma Grandpa is being mean!”

Rayleigh gives them a hard look.

“To knock some sense into you, you always get in trouble like this, yet you never learn!”

“He’s right, Honey; you’ll get really hurt one day if you keep this up,” Shakky says exhaling the smoke in a thin wisp.

“But Grandpa, Grandma, they deserved it!”

Rayleigh shakes his head, looking at the child.

“It doesn’t matter if they did deserve it! You need to learn self-restraint! You don’t walk around beating people up whenever they wrong you!”

“Why not?!” they yell at him.

Rayleigh delivers a second slap to the back of their head.

“Ow! Grandpa, that really hurts! Grandma!” they call again, hoping she will save them.

She simply gives them a smile and shakes her head, holding the cigarette between her fingers.

“Good! I hope you remember that when you think of getting into another pointless fight for no reason again.”

They pout, rubbing the back of their head.

“I hope that attitude sticks around. Now, what was this fight about hm? Or should I find out later from an angry mob again?”

“That was one time, Grandpa! He was insulting you! And then went crying to his dad, who happened to be the mayor.” The child protests, crossing their arms.

Rayleigh raises an eyebrow.

“What was it this time?” the old man says, waving his previous statement off.

The child fidgets slightly at the question.

“Hm?” Rayleigh presses, clearly noticing the child’s reluctance to answer.

The child mutters something under their breath.

Rayleigh leans in, placing his hands together and resting his elbows on the table as he stares at the child with curious eyes.

“What was that?”

“…they were insulting you again.”

The old man sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“That’s what started this?”

They nod, rubbing their arm nervously

He sighs, motioning Reader to come closer

They step towards him, still avoiding his eyes even as he picks them up, placing them on his lap.

Rayleigh gently puts a hand on their cheek.

“Look at me, reader.”

They glance at him.

“Do not let them get to you, Reader. I am not fragile, and you do not have to defend me every time they make a snide remark.”

“I know, but it’s not fair how they talk about you, Grandpa!”

Rayleigh smiles and hugs them tightly.

“I know it isn’t fair, but you must remember that people like that are not worth your time and energy. Let them babble nonsense about me and come to me with it instead. Do not let their snide remarks get to you, though. Okay..?”

“Good..and promise me you won’t go around hitting people when they say something you don’t like?”

“I’ll try”

“Hm, better than nothing.” The old man sighs and pats their head.

“Now let me see,” Shakky says, gesturing to their arm.

“But it’s gonna hurt!”

Rayleigh sighs and ruffles their hair.

“Stop whining; listen to your Grandmother.”

They groan, showing her their arm where a new cut adorned their skin.

Shakky humed as she examined the cut. It wasn’t a bad one, but it was still enough to require at least some sort of care-taking.

Rayleigh looked back at Reader and spoke softly.

“This is why you shouldn’t just attack people blindly just because you don’t like what they say.”

The woman looked at them for a moment before sighing and picking them up from her husband’s lap.

“You’re coming with me, and we’re going to properly treat that.”

“Rayleigh, could you pass me the rubbing alcohol? It’s on the cabinet over there.”

Rayleigh swiftly stands and walks to the bartender’s side of the bar, opens the cabinet, and grabs a bottle of alcohol, handing it to his wife.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, Dear”

“Now don’t you worry, Reader, if you behave, then this won’t hurt at all,” she says as she puts her cigarette in her mouth and inhales.

Rayleigh nods and smiles before Shakky starts pouring the alcohol over the cut, and he places a small bandage on it. Reader winces at the pain but tries to remain still.

“There you go, dear. It’s not a big cut, so it will be good as new in a few days, As long as you don’t get into any more fights.” Rayleigh comments

The old man turns to shake a finger at the child sternly, but the scolding is just an act as he tries to hide the soft chuckle.

The child giggles at his grandpa’s antics.

“Thank you, and sorry.”

Rayleigh laughs and ruffles their hair.

“Just don’t let it happen again, sweetheart. I do not enjoy fixing you up after a fight.”

He remembers something and glances toward the child in his wife’s hands.

“So, did you win?”

“Of course I did; I’m your grandchild, after all,” she grins, giving him a peace sign.

He laughs and gives them a quick kiss on the forehead,

“That you are. I expect nothing less from my grandchild.”

Shakky shakes her head with a smile on her face, kissing their forehead as well.

What should I try next? I really like these child!reader scenarios, do you guys like them or would you prefer other scenarios? Romantic maybe? Or maybe platonic friends?

#silvers rayleigh #rayleigh x reader #rayleigh x child!reader #shakky #shakky x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x child!reader #dark king rayleigh #one piece rayleigh #shakky x child!reader #shakuyaku #shakyaku x reader #rayleigh #shakuyaku x child!reader #rayleigh x gn reader #shakky x gn reader #shakuyaku x gn reader

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bobfloydsbabe · 5 months

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burning flames | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

a gold rush fic

SUMMARY: A heated argument reaches a fever pitch for Bob and his TA.

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), power imbalance, mutual jealousy, SMUT (fingering), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST

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SPECIAL THANKS to @cherrycola27 for letting me rant about professor bob and for sending thots when i ask for them. you're a real one.

A/N: very loosely inspired by the song style by taylor swift for the wonderful @laracrofted's 1989TGM writing celebration. this was supposed to be a mob boss bob fic, but that made me cry, so i switched gears and now here we are. i'm sorry this is so late, ames. enjoy!

“That’s all we have time for today. You’re dismissed.” He closes his book and listens to the sound of laptop lids being shut, chairs scraping against the old wooden floor, and chatter amongst his students. It’s a sound he’ll never tire of, no matter how long he teaches.

One sound is distinctly different, though. The sound of her voice. Sweet and soft. Lifting his eyes, he sees her talking to one of his students. Mike something. He can’t quite remember, but she laughs and puts her hand on his arm, making Bob clench his jaw.

Another student, Alicia, comes to his desk to talk about the upcoming assignment and what she can do to improve her grade. Normally, he would tell her to make an appointment at his office, but then Imogen laughs again, making heady eyes at that Mike guy, and he decides he has all the time in the world to talk to Alicia.

He tries to pay attention to his student, to answer her questions, and even tries to smile, but he can feel Imogen looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Her dark gaze is intense and sets his skin on fire in a way he’s been trying to ignore for weeks.

“So,” he hears Mike say. “What are your plans this weekend?”

Bob freezes. He lets his eyes wander over to Imogen, who’s still smiling. Next to him, Alicia is still talking, but her voice is far away and barely audible as he focuses on his assistant.

“I’m revising my dissertation proposal,” she tells him. “They rejected the last one for being too broad, so I have to narrow it down.”

Bob’s on that committee and strongly disagreed, but other members outnumbered him and he was forced to dissent. Dr. Kazansky had given her the news, and Bob remembers the heartbroken look in her eyes when she came to his office afterward. He’d wanted to comfort her then.

“Too busy to have dinner with me?”

Bob straightens his back, eyes still trained on Imogen as he dismisses Alicia, telling her to make an appointment if she wishes to discuss things further.

She mutters a thank you and scurries away. Imogen opens her mouth to answer, but Bob interrupts, certain he doesn’t want to hear the answer she’ll likely provide to this Mike character.

“Miss Van Doren,” he says, barely recognizing the hardness in his own voice. “My office. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond, but gathers his books and leaves the lecture hall without a glance back to see if she’s following. It doesn’t take long for him to hear her marching footsteps behind him, so he leaves the door open for her.

She slams it shut, so it rattles on the hinges.

“What is your problem?”

She’s furious. Nostrils flared, heavy breathing, and a delicious flush paints her cheeks pink.

“My problem?” he asks, placing the books on his desk. “What’s your problem?”

She drops her bag to the floor and crosses her arms in front of her chest. The gold necklace with her initial catches in the light, drawing his eyes down.

“I don’t have a problem,” she insists, taking a step toward him. “But you constantly berating me is getting old.”

He says nothing. He can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like she wants to wring his neck. Not when all the blood in his body is racing south, and he’s trying not to look at her legs, but they are on full display in that tight little skirt she’s wearing. Again.

He swears she’s doing it on purpose to rile him up.

He hates that it’s working.

She takes a deep breath, pushing her shoulders back, and looks up into his eyes. He’s always found hers unsettling, like she sees the parts of him he’s been hiding for decades.

“I know you don’t want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she says, gesturing around his office, making her short skirt even shorter, revealing more of her supple thighs. “You’ve made that abundantly clear, but you could at least show me the courtesy of not undermining me every time I talk to students.”

He frowns. “I don’t undermine you.”

She scoffs, gaze leaving him as her frustration fills the room. “You interrupted my conversation with Michael not five minutes ago,” she argues as her eyes find his again. Dark brown meeting ocean blue.

He steps forward, eyes wandering over every inch of her exposed skin, making his head spin with barely contained desire. “It was an inappropriate conversation.”

“He asked about my dissertation.”

Bob shakes his head. “No, he asked you out.”

“So what?” she throws her hands out to the side, exasperation turning into full-blown anger now. “He’s been trying to ask me out for weeks, but you always manage to interrupt. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you do it on purpose.”

He freezes. His heart’s beating painfully in his chest and his face feels like it’s on fire. There may even be steam coming out of his ears.

He watches Imogen run her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots, and he truly wishes she wouldn’t. It’s conjuring up very vivid images in his head that he shouldn’t have of his teaching assistant.

She looks at him expectantly, thinking an answer is going to come, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t know how to respond to that in a way that’ll make sense to her. It barely even makes sense to himself.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Bob says finally.

She scoffs. “Yeah, well, he treats me better than you do, and I know that’s a really low bar, but it’s better than—”

Bob crashes his lips against hers, swallowing the gasp she emits. For a moment nothing happens, and for a second he thinks he’s made a grave mistake, but then Imogen’s arms circle around his waist and she sighs against his mouth.

He walks her backward until her back hits the wall behind his desk, and he presses her against it, trying to get closer.

He pulls away a few inches to look at her. Cheeks flushed, hair a little out of place, and pupils dilated. She’s never looked more delectable, and he knows she can feel his hard cock against her hip. He doesn’t care.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes search his face for something, but it’s unclear whether she finds it. “Why did you do that?”

Her voice is barely above a whisper. There’s no hint of regret, but the rational part of him knows this is a bad idea. He’s her superior, after all.

“You wouldn’t shut up.”

“So you kissed me?” she asks with an adorable wrinkle between her brows.

He frowns. Now sure he’s misjudged the situation, Bob leans back and squares his shoulders, letting his hands fall away from her neck.

“Oh no,” she tuts and grabs a handful of his sweater, pulling him back in. “Get back here.” She stands on her tiptoes and captures his mouth with her own, tongue dancing at the seam of his lips for entry.

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He leans his weight against her, pushing her against the wall, and groans into her mouth when she tugs on his hair.

His hands travel down her body. Grazing across the swell of her breasts, into the dip of her waist, the hips that have occupied his thoughts for weeks, and finally, her thighs. His lips never leave hers, and his tongue explores her mouth and the taste of mint that lingers from her toothpaste.

Imogen shudders as his fingertips tickle the back of her knees, whimpering at the touch.

His hands slide up the back of her bare thighs, feeling her soft skin under his palms. She moans into his mouth and it’s the most arousing sound he’s ever heard. He can’t help the roll of his hips, desperate for friction, for relief, for something warmer than his own hand.

His hands travel up under her skirt, feeling the plumpness of her ass in his hands make him push against her again and she’s meeting him with her own movement.

“Professor,” she moans, as he trails wet kisses along her throat, running his tongue over the skin afterward.

He hums, kneading her ass-cheeks, growing harder as he rocks against her. Even separated by layers of fabric, the friction is enough to drive him mad.

“Dr. Floyd,” she says, pulling his hair hard enough that his lips detach from her throat. Her pupils are wide and hungry, mirroring his own, and their heavy breaths mix in arousing unison. “I’m still mad at you.”

A smug smirk spreads across his face. “I know,” he says and removes one hand from her ass. He uses it to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t go out with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words hang in the air. Bob keeps one hand on the side of her neck while the other remains under her skirt, playing with the edge of her panties. He holds her gaze, waiting for her to make the next move. To tell him where she stands, what she wants.

He sees the moment she decides, the corner of her mouth turning upward just enough to be a smile.

“Show me.”

Yanking her panties to the side, his fingertips glide along her folds, feeling her already soaking for him. Her mouth forms a perfect o as she gasps, and he wonders what else that pretty and vicious mouth can do.

Her fingers curl into the hair at his nape, gasping when he finds her clit. “So pretty like this,” he whispers, kissing the underside of her jaw.

“Professor,” she whimpers. “Please.”

“Come on,” he says, leaning back to watch her. Her brown doe eyes have gone dark with hunger and desire, arousal clear from the bead of sweat on her temple, and his cock is so hard he’s about to go insane. Yet, he still leans in close, his lips featherlight against her ear and whispers “moan for me.”

He leans back just in time to catch the look in her eyes when he presses his thumb against her clit and she lets herself moan. Louder than he expected, so his hand flies over her mouth, keeping her quiet, but feeling her smile beneath his palm.

His thumb massages her clit while his index finger finds her entrance, warmth begging him to enter. Bob meets Imogen’s eyes, asking without saying the words because he doesn’t trust either of them to keep their voices down.

Her nod sends him to heaven.

She moans into his hand as his finger slides inside her. He’s hot all over, groaning into her neck at the sensation of her. “So fucking tight,” he mumbles against her skin, making her clench around him.

Tightening her arms around his shoulders, she whimpers against his palm, and her hips meet his motions as he pumps his finger inside her. Her juices spread across his hand, and before long, he adds a second finger.

His office fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, muffled moans from Imogen, and barely contained groans from himself. He can feel her getting close, her legs trembling, struggling to stay upright. Leaning his forehead against hers, he removes his hand from her mouth. “Quiet,” he mutters against her lips.

She nods as she kisses him, open-mouthed and desperate, and his thumb draws tight circles on her clit as he angles his fingers against that spot inside her. She’s there. He knows it. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Cum for me.”

She does. Gushes around his fingers, writhing in his arms. He guides her through her high, holding her against the wood-paneled wall behind her. Her head falls against his shoulder as she comes down, and a long whine escapes her throat as he withdraws his fingers.

Leaning back to give her a little space, he takes in her unkempt hair, swollen lips, and the breathtaking pink flush in her cheeks. Her eyes flick down to his hand, then turn to the very obvious bulge in his slacks.

“I–”

She takes his hand, the one with fingers covered in her cum, and brings it to her lips. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she closes her mouth around his digits, swirling her tongue around them, tasting herself. He’s entranced, can’t stop watching her when she hums as if it’s the most delicious meal she’s ever had.

She withdraws his fingers with a pop, letting his hand fall back at his side. They stay there, looking at each other, processing what just happened between them. Not only is she his teaching assistant, but he’s on her dissertation committee. He has power and influence, and while she’s not his student, he is her superior.

“I…” he tries again, but trails off.

She smirks, squaring her shoulders. “Close your mouth, Dr. Floyd,” she says and sidesteps him, adjusting her skirt. “You’re too smart to be a mouth breather.”

She crosses the office, gathering her bag from the floor where she dropped it, and he gets a peek at her panties as she bends over. White lace. His slacks have never felt tighter.

Unsure what to say or do, he stands there watching while Imogen tries to make her hair look presentable. “Alright,” she mumbles after a minute. “See you tomorrow.”

The door closes behind her, leaving Bob in his office, surrounded by books, paper, a chessboard, a laptop he’s forced to own, and the memory of his TA coming undone on his fingers.

There’s only one word to describe the situation he now finds himself in.

“Fuck.”

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

TAGLIST: @roosterforme, @kmc1989, @bradshawsbaby, @cherrycola27, @wkndwlff, @yanna-banana, @bluezraven, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @hangmandruigandmav, @keyrani, @just-in-case-iloveyou, @solo-pitstop-vibes, @yuckosworld, @have-a-nice-day-k, @writingshae, @the-whitegirl-is-back, @dizzydisaster, @floydsmuse

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nwarrior777 · 3 days

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Science Museum Group changed offensive object tittle after getting my letter

here's the story about it:

Wonderful @solariium commissioned me wonderful victorian-era wheelchair user character to draw. Refs were provided, and one of the links was an object in online museum gallery - vintage wheelchair.

solariium, who is wheelchair user theirself, mentioned that tittle of the object is incorrect but it was good picture for the ref. i wondered "what's with the tittle?" looked in the link and saw

ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Invalid chair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID

welp. incorrect indeed! [i* is outdated offensive term]

so i decided to make a special move

ID: my drawing of a character from anime "mob psycho 100" - Arataka Reigen. He holds a phone next to his ear, his face epression is very confident. It's all anime sparkles lights effects around him and text "REIGEN SPECIAL MOVE". end ID

and USE MY POWER

of writing emails

i don't have problems with writing emails, so i thought why not

and

https://collection.sciencemuseumgroup.org.uk/objects/co120657/carved-wooden-wheelchair-europe-1850-1890-invalid-chair

ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Carved wooden wheelchair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID

it worked!

As human who made bunch of projects, i can say that keeping museum gallery is tone of work.

And tittle change - no, it's not just changing few letters.

Changing tittle of object in museum is similar to changing name of game file. Catalogs changes, maybe they have irl gallery, so new card, they probably have some code objects system related to tittles, and scientists, students, make reference to this object in their researches and articles and etc etc.

So, yeah, it * is * a lot of work. Also, they changed description, it now says that this object was "historically referred to as ‘invalid chair’". And i think it's good, because it is not erasing fact of people used this word, and it's addition to the progress context - we literally see now old term clarified as past, and new one, now, in the tittle.

(and yes, web link. i just saw that i* word still there. yeah, not perfect but still, considering things i said above - big work done)

I used some conversation strategy in case "this is offensive can you fix" will not be enough — started on positive attitude giving compliment on their collection being big and interesting, gave them extra argument on why this should be fixed (more actual search key words on this now are "vintage wheelchair", not "i* chair"). Then we had a little letters chain, where they answered politely too, and in about few days i got detailed answer on this, and yep, changed tittle.

And i think this shows, that if someone did mistake and someone noticed it and giving feedback on it, if both sides are interested in progress and making good changes, no matter how hard it is, sides can make a change, working together and being kind. And i think we should be more brave about making such connections!

Thanks again to @solariium and museum workers!

#small big changes #wheelchair #activism #i was writing this post in drafts for a month or smth like it's my diploma work #described

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whoishotteranimepolls · 2 months

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My observations after running this blog for a month

I have observed trends relating to multiple fandoms and how they behave/interact with my polls here's some examples. I hope someone finds this entertaining as I did. Because I do read most of the comments and tags

Black Butler, Jujutsu Kaisen and Dorohedoro. You guys are the most insane, feral, unhinged and I have debated marking my post as mature content simply because I knew what you will put in your tags and comment. I worry about you people sometimes Because I do read what you put in those comments and tags and now I know what you will allow these characters to do to you and what you want to do to them. (This also applies certain specific characters from other fandoms) But you three. My little unhinged trio. It's just fandom wide. Doesn't matter the character. You will go crazy. It's entertaining to watch. Don't get me wrong but I hope everyone is doing okay

One piece You guys request a lot and show up. You guys also like meme and cursed polls. Yes they are funny most of the time and you guys have plenty of characters to choose from for the meme and cursed variety. But your fandom also has a list of characters that fall under the should I mark this as mature content because of what is inevitably going to end up in the tags and comments. Because I have seen your characters referred to as "daddy" or "mommy" Way more than JJK or the other two members of the unhinged trio and those fandoms are way more crazy collectively.

Trigun is the most loyal ride or die fandom that will show up for any poll with one of their characters no matter what. With a level of enthusiasm that is impressive but lacks the pure crazy of the unhinged trio

Mob Psycho 100 I've only had one character submitted from your show but you guys show up almost as much as Trigun but I don't know if that loyalty translates to other characters

Jojo you guys either show up and vote and reblog quietly or are just as bad as the unhinged trio 50/50 chance also depends on the character so I never know what to expect.

Now Attack on Titan. Is that fandom alive? Because I have gotten a few requests to do their characters but they have never shown up to defend their character. Which is funny because they're still in the top 20 anime and Manga fandom charts. But as far as I can tell the fandom does not exist or they're invisible so are you guys doing okay? I know the final season was supposed to be traumatic or something but I mean so was JJK season 2 and it just turned that fandom into an unhinged mess so you all should be fine or at least have a pulse. Do you guys need to speak to the Hannibal fandom for support? I mean they're still alive all these years later even after their tragic ending.

Hunter x Hunter You're a fandom that shows up consistently. Vote and reblog but you don't make a scene. That's all I can really say. It's very similar to how the Trigun fandom behaves but not quite the same enthusiasm as Trigun that is ride or die no matter the character

Fate is another fandom where you either show up or you don't. There is no in between. I wonder if it depends on the character. But I don't know. There just hasn't been enough polls

Soul Eater. You guys are unhinged only when it comes to Stein any other character I don't know but Stein 100% ride or die.

Dungeon Meshi very similar to JoJo except if it's Senshi or Falin guaranteed you guys will be just as bad if not worse than the unhinged trio any other character there's a chance you might not show up at all

Now to all the people who find the Senshi polls annoying. I would like to apologize for the monster I mean meme I accidentally created. It was never my intention for this to get out of hand I hope you can forgive me one day. But apparently they're going to kill King Charles. I still don't get it I might be getting old

If I haven't mentioned your fandom, it's probably because your characters don't get submitted enough for me to notice a trend but I will be watching. This is just what I've observed so far I hope you enjoyed my observations. I found these trends interesting

#not a poll #just my two cents #fandom #fandom culture #poll analysis

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oopwoop · 10 months

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Playing Minecraft W/ The SpiderVerse Kids

pairing(s): Miles Morales (e!1610!), Hobie Brown, Pavitr Prabhakar, Gwen Stacy

warning(s): swearing! unedited.

i used this site to figure out/decide what type of player they’d be

i’ve been playing a lot of Minecraft recently and thought of what it’d be like to play with them so.. here you go!

Miles Morales (e!1610!)

He prefers Creative over Survival for sure, reasoning: he’s scared of the mobs and refuses to fight them

Plus in Creative it’s a lot easier for him to build stuff because he is definitely The Big Builder or The Decorator. He makes the most outrageous buildings but they look good

Has a whole world full of buildings and stuff. Like, complete towns filled with mansions

Playing with him is a lot of fun though! He’ll come up with build designs with you and you’d work together. If not, the two of you would totally mess around, building things just to blow them up with TNT or set it on fire

Miles is the one to put your beds next to each other. He thinks it’s cute, though he’ll do it without saying anything and if you mention it he becomes a stuttering mess and says he knows nothing and didn’t do it.

If you do end up playing Survival with him he will make you kill all the mobs, no doubt about it. He’ll make the base, probably trade with villagers, farm and kill the animals for food but not much else. He’s too afraid of dying

“Miles, did you put the beds next to each other? Because I know I didn’t.” You snicker teasingly, your character staring at the beds then at his character. You turn yourself to glance at him and notice his eyes are wide and he’s blushing.

“What..? What, me? Nooo.. That’s stupid why would I do that? Maybe you forgot that you did it because I didn’t.” He stumbled over his words, refusing eye contact. It was cute.

“Mhm, okay. Y’know, maybe I did forget. I think it’s a cute idea, though.” You smirked, kissing his cheek before turning back to the screen and continued playing.

Gwen Stacy

I think she’d play Survival and only Survival, claims Creative is for the weak

She goes all out in Minecraft, fighting mobs, getting achievements, going to the Nether, all of that. She’s not afraid

Definitely The Pro or The Achiever. Like I said, Gwen goes all out

She’d forcefully make you go with her, but she’d give you the right equipment needed and pointers on how to fight. If you genuinely don’t want to fight with her she’d have you farm and trade, pretty much do the smaller necessities for survival.

Has finished Minecraft several times, got all the achievements and everything on different worlds, never gets old for her

If you got her to play Creative she’d go on a rampage, killing everything for fun. Or she’d fly around trying to find different biomes

“C’monnn.. it’s not that bad!” Gwen would groan, trying to convince you to go to the Nether with her. “I’ve given all the armor and tools you need! Just try not to die.”

“Try not to die?? It’s the Nether, I’ll die no matter what! I’m not a pro like you. I’m not the one who’s finished this game multiple times.” You gave her an incredulous look, gaping at her words. It’s one thing to not die on the main world, that was usually easy, but the Nether? Yeah right, she’s insane.

“You’re overreacting.. Plus, if I’m a pro, wouldn’t that make you feel better that you’d be with me? Not by yourself.” She chuckled, arguing her point. You just scoffed and told her to go, following in after her.

Pavitr Prabhakar

I see him playing both Creative and Survival. Just really depends on his mood. Either way he’s having fun

He’d be The Zookeeper, collecting animals like Pokémon cards for real. Within the first 30 minutes of playing he already has a house full of cats and dogs, probably three parrots flying around him and is starting an animal farm. How? No idea, he just does

In Creative mode he’d spawn them all, naming all the animals with name tags one by one, even coloring the dog collars too

In Survival he’s taming every animal he sees, using a lead to bring the animal to a fenced in area. There’s one full of cows, pigs, horses, all the usual ones. But he even has them for pandas, camels, and turtles.

He’s also one to place his bed next to you, though unlike Miles, he’s not embarrassed by it, actually stating out loud he’s doing it. No shame at all.

When he’s not collecting animals, he’s following you around. He has no idea where you’re going or what you’re doing but he doesn’t care. He’s following and collecting every flower he sees, claiming he’s gonna make a bouquet for you.

“Hey, Pav? Where’s the- woah what the hell? How do you already have a whole army of pandas? Where’d you even get those from? We’re no where near a jungle..” You questioned, beyond surprise by the sight of around a dozen pandas in a fenced up area. It was even decorated to what a panda would need, looking like a small jungle.

“Hm? You say that likes it’s hard to find them! What’s so bad about it? I think they’re cute!” He smiled brightly, his character jumping around in the area full of pandas. “I have more than just pandas!”

“How?? We haven’t even played for more than an hour! When did you do all this?” While it was probably better not to question him, you needed to know how he did it, and seeing him more than happy to explain made it all the more better.

Hobie Brown (sorry it’s shorter than the rest)

He genuinely does not care if y’all play Creative or Survival, doesn’t matter to him, he’s gonna be a complete menace either way

He’s not any of the type of players listed in the site I used, he doesn’t believe in consistency. He can go from killing mobs to farming. His main goal is to fuck with you though

He never gets you killed in Survival but he will mess around. He’ll hit your character (without a sword or anything) when you’re fighting a mob and run away. It’s like playing with a child

I can see him setting a village on fire and saying something along the lines of “they’re capitalist pigs and deserve to die” or something

All in all, he’s not much of a fan of Minecraft but he’ll play it with you if you ask.

“Hobie, why is there a village on fire? What did you do?” You raised a brow at him, staring at the slight smirk on his face. It was a telltale sign he did it, but you knew it was him either way. There’s no way a village randomly caught on fire.

“What ya mean, luv? Oh, tha’. Yeah I did tha’. Bunch a capitalist pigs, I tell ya. Jus’ doin’ my job gettin rid of ‘em.” He chuckled while setting another village on fire. You didn’t wanna know how many he’d set on fire at this point.

“It’s a game, B. And I need to trade with them, they have good stuff sometimes.” You whined, huffing at him. You know he doesn’t care and will do it anyways.

“Find another one then, luv.”

All of them!

My god is it a nightmare.. first it starts out as an argument, trying to decide whether or not y’all are playing Survival or Creative. Mainly Gwen and Miles though, Pavitr and Hobie don’t care.

After about ten minutes of arguing they decided to ask you, so whatever one you prefer is what y’all played on. Either way one of them is whining.

If you picked Survival it leads to a pouty Miles, complaining how he’s gonna die a lot, and a smiley Gwen.

Within the first day Miles has already made a small base for you guys, Pav has gathered a few animals (he pouted when it was stated the cows and such would be used for food eventually, Gwen was mining for ores, and Hobie was.. being Hobie.

It was surprising to see how smooth everyone seemed to work together for a while, considering before y’all even started playing an argument broke out. Though if y’all could work well together while on mission, why couldn’t you in a game, yeah?

Give it an hour or so.. bickering over stupid stuff is bound to happen.

If you picked Creative, Gwen is whining how it’s for losers, which causes Miles to flip her off and thank you for picking it.

With Creative there’s a lot less arguing and bickering. Though there is much more chaos. Y’all are blowing up everything or settlor on fire for fun.

It started with you all just doing your own thing until randomly Hobie brings up the idea.

“I ‘ave an idea..” Hobie says out of the blue, causing everyone to pause. You all look at him with a face of confusion or hesitation. Whenever he had an idea, it was wild or something went wrong in some way.

“Great.. you have an idea.. does it have to do with the game or real life? Because I don’t feel like blowing up a building in your universe again..” Gwen scoffed, the others nodding in agreement.

“Yeah.. I agree with Gwen.. last time you had an idea we almost got killed..” You chuckled dryly, still traumatized from that.

“Damn, no faith in me at all, huh?” He rolled his eyes. “Yea, in the game.. Don’t worry, don’t plan on killin’ y’all. Woulda done so already if I wanted to.”

That caused another pause in the room, silence too loud. Thank god for Miles for breaking it. “Okayyy… what’s your plan?”

“Well, Gwendy got blowin’ up a buildin’ correc’. Though, I meant in the game. Why not have some fun an’ blow up some shit, or set it on fire, yea?” It was a smart idea, surprisingly. Everyone agreed, just with some terms, mainly Pav and Miles.

“Sounds fun! As long as my animals are safe and out of it, I’m in!” Pavitr stated, Miles nodding in agreement, but for his builds.

“Woah, a surprisingly good idea.. Let’s do it! Let’s blow some shit up!” You poked fun at Hobie, before smiling widely. It concerned the others at how widely you smiled but brushed it off. They agreed with the idea so they must be just as crazy then. With that, buildings were blown up, forests were burnt down. It was so chaotic to the point that the game started to lag and eventually crashed, causing you all to burst out in laughter. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

I apologize for not posting yesterday, but hopefully this makes up for it! It’s longer than my normal posts. I hope you enjoy!

Send requests! Love you!

#across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #gwen stacy #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy x reader #hobie brown x reader #pavitr prabhakar x reader #fanfic #Spotify

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butwhyduh · 4 months

Text

Another Year’s End

Summary: New Year’s Eve was never boring. This is told through multiple perspectives. Cuts between each individual. The only warning is fire.

Jason x reader

It was honestly hard to believe that you were currently living in a penthouse overlooking the glittering side of Gotham. You had moved out of a lace that should have probably been condemned with a broken heater and leaky windows and non-existent air conditioner in summer.

It had been an interesting year, as you were learning all of them were being connected to the bat family. Jason was currently asleep on the couch nursing a broken arm in a new sling Alfred had fashioned only a few days previous. You had practically forced him to take pain medication this morning because he was almost in tears while trying to cook.

Now you could get ready in peace. You could never get used to turning on the bathroom heater while walking comfortably on heated marble floors before stepping into a massive shower bigger than your old bathroom. You had a row of soaps and could turn without knocking a single one over. It was an everything shower so upon leaving the bathroom hours later, you felt like a new person.

Jason was up and moving in the bedroom. He was pulling clothing out of the fancy side of his closet. You also now had a fancy side of the closet. Jason had no less than 5 different ties laying in front of him and 2 different jackets.

“Which one for tonight. These are the pants and shoes,” Jason said without turning. You could never be silent enough to trick him.

“This jacket and one of these two ties,” you said after a minute. You held both ties up to his chest. Jason had a silly little half smile on his face as you looked at them both. “This one. Brings out your eyes.”

“Were you just using that as an excuse to stare into my eyes?” He teased.

“Of course.”

“We’ve got about an hour before we go. I’ve still got to shave and probably shower-“

“Definitely shower,” you corrected. “Do you need help covering your cast?”

“How about joining me and helping me wash my back,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Not even close. I just dried my hair,” you replied. “After the party,” you added with a wink.

“Hmm,” he replied before going to the bathroom.

You moved to the fancy side of your closet and looked at the clothing Jason had bought you over the past year. He didn’t tell you how he got paid so much more and you didn’t ask. You paused for a second. Were you basically a mob wife just enjoying the money brought in from nefarious activities without a thought?

Jason singing from the bathroom broke your thoughts and you continued on getting dressed. No, he wasn’t working as a crime lord anymore. (Your parents would probably love to hear that one.) not to mention you had a thought that Bruce was giving Jason anything he wanted to have a better relationship.

“The red one,” Jason said and you jumped. He stuck his head around the corner of the bathroom. “Please?”

“Sure. Finish your shower and don’t get the floor all wet,” you chuffed. He grinned before going back in the bathroom. It was only a few minutes later that he came out dressed in only a towel. You tried to ignore how ridiculously fit he was, it really didn’t matter how many times you saw it, he was distracting.

“Zip me up?” You asked. He nodded and kissed the back of your neck before slowly pulling the zipper up your spine. You could feel goosebumps forming. That was before he comically grabbed your ass. “Jay!”

He shrugged before tossing you your jacket. “Couldn’t resist.”

———————————

Dick x reader (different character)

Dick was running late. His fiancé was all dressed and he was running out the doors of the precinct to the Porsche.

“No, no, no,” he gasped as he saw the yellow boot on a tire. Yeah, he double parked but he was just dropping something off. Dick looked around and saw no one. It wasn’t his proudest moment but he pulled out a set of lock picks and took the boot off. That took him 5 more minutes behind.

He drove like he stole it while haphazardly throwing off his normal jacket to put on his fancy evening jacket. Trying to put a tie on one handed while speeding on the highway was not easy. You called him as he passed a cop car.

“Fuck!” He said.

“Excuse me?” You answered.

“No, I’m getting pulled over,” he said as the familiar red and blue lights shines behind him.

“Wow. We were supposed to leave 15 minutes ago,” you reminded him. He cringed.

“Yeah, give me like 10 minutes and I’ll be there,” he promised. You hummed a reply before hanging up.

A cop came up to the window and Dick answered with his badge out. “Sorry officer. GCPD business.”

The cop stared at his badge uncomfortably long before nodding. “Be safe.”

Dick showed up to the apartment a little frazzled but otherwise okay. You met him at the car. You took one look at his tie before reaching over to fix it. It was atrocious. You also fussed with his hair a bit.

The drive over wasn’t bad. It was dry and the roads had been cleared of snow recently. And Wayne manor was as glittery and fancy as always. Other people had long since arrived and you both avoided the crowds by coming in the serving entrance.

“Oh hi,” you said to Jason and his girlfriend who were coming in at the same time. “I’m glad we’re not the only ones a little late.”

“Fashionably late,” Jason replied. “Jesus, Dick. What did you do to your collar?” Jason reached over and straightened it.

“I came straight from work. Alright now?”

“Yeah you’re fine. Have you seen Tim?”

“Didn’t see his car,” Dick replied. The ballroom was packed as usual with Gotham’s richest and most influential. The colors this year were rose gold and bright diamond. In fact, there was a display of some of Gotham Museum’s finest diamonds to one side. They were donated for the night after Bruce’s ridiculously high yearly donation. On the opposite side sat a huge Christmas tree decorated with what looked like more glittering gold and diamonds.

Security was posted all around but to Dick, there was far too many people for the few guards. Bruce was to the side of the display with Selina. They were quite the pair with her long black dress with an impossibly high slit and his perfectly tailored suit. He seemed happy and relaxed but Dick knew that could be an act.

“I found Damian,” you called. Damian was sitting with his date at a table towards a back corner. He was wearing a turtleneck with a blazer and his date wore a nice sweater over her dress. They looked cute and more importantly warm, you thought. You wished that you had thought to wear a jacket. You weaved your way to the pair.

“Hey!” Dick said to Damian before forcing the boy into a hug. “How are you?” He hugged Damian’s girlfriend as well.

“There isn’t enough security. I told Father,” Damian replied. Secretly Dick agreed.

“You worry too much. Have you seen Tim?”

“Not yet,” Damian replied. “I don’t know why we insist on having balls here.”

“Preaching to the choir, kid. Let’s go get some drinks,” Jason said to his date.

“You can’t have alcohol with pain meds,” she reminded him and he grumbled while pulling on his cast.

Dick grinned at you while mouthing ‘good luck.’ Telling Jason no was like it’s own extreme sport. You sat next to Dick and grabbed a pair of champagne glasses from the waiter carrying a tray. Dick looked at his watch with a frown.

“You haven’t heard anything from Tim? He’s usually timely,” Dick asked Damian.

“He mentioned something about checking out a case before the gala. I’m not my brother’s keeper,” he replied.

“That’s what Cain said about Abel after he killed him,” Dick replied dryly. You smacked his arm at the snark.

“I didn’t kill him if that’s what you mean,” Damian replied.

“I wasn’t-“

“I would have done it long ago if I wanted to. He probably forgot about the gala with how wrapped up in the case he was,” Damian replied. Dick sighed.

“I’m sure you’re right. Want to dance?” he asked you. You took his arm and let him lead you to the dance floor. Dick was a fantastic dancer. The song was slow and he pulled you close to sway with the music.

———————————

Tim x reader (different reader)

“Timothy Drake please answer the damn phone,” you grumbled as it once again went to voicemail. You had called him 5 times and texted him many more than that. You had gone from mad that he was running late to concerned something happened. Dick’s girlfriend had texted you asking where you both were. You hadn’t responded.

You heard a clattering in the bathroom and you ran to see Tim dressed in his Red Robin suit slide into the window on fall to the floor.

“Tim!” You gasped and tan over to him. He yanked his hood off. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah just late,” he said before standing up too quickly and swaying. You grabbed him to steady him. He started walking to the bedroom. He grabbed a suit and started stripping off his costume. He had a fresh red bruise forming on his side.

“Were you really fighting right before a gala?”

“There’s a case. I’ve almost got it. Met some thugs. Nothing to worry about,” he said while moving to jump in the shower. Normally Tim was much more private than this. It was weird.

“Are you hurt? That bruise looks painful.”

“I’ll be fine. You want to drive?” He asked. He quickly showered and brushed his hair and threw on the suit in record time with practiced ease.

“I guess I can drive,” you said after a minute.

Ten minutes later you parked by the side entrance to a party in full swing. There’s something very intimidating about going to a fancy party in Gotham. You’ve always gotten the vibe that anything could happen at anytime and danger was one step off. Tonight the thought was even greater.

Tim just wasn’t himself as he pulled you into the building. He was a little less refined and a little clumsier.

“Tim, what is going on?” You asked.

“Nothing. We’re just late,” he said.

“Well maybe don’t drag me around when I’m in heels. I almost fell down,” you chided. He sighed.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s go inside, okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied softer.

The glittering gold and diamonds were blinding and the building was incredibly full of people. You weaved through the crowd. You held Tim’s hand tightly in fear of losing him.

“Let’s dance,” he said and that’s when you knew something was wrong. He usually needed at least a full glass of champagne before dancing. You let him guide you to the dance floor. He was sloppy and you had to pull him back a few times as he almost hit people with his wild movements. He looked drunk and seemed to be less coordinated by the minute.

You saw Dick and his fiancé dancing and steered Tim towards them. They were dancing beautifully and you regretted interrupting them.

“Dick!” You called out. He turned to see you and Tim dancing. He smiled.

“Already a glass deep, I see,” he teased Tim.

“No, he’s not,” you said, worried. Dick’s brow furrowed.

“I’m fine,” Tim replied but Dick had already seen the sloppy movement and slower reaction timing.

“Why don’t we get a seat,” Dick replied. He mouth a ‘sorry’ to his date. The four of you moved to a table. “Buddy have you had anything to drink tonight?”

“No and I don’t like the accusation that I have,” Tim replied.

“Okay I believe you,” Dick said. He asked you a bunch of questions and tried to ask Tim who was becoming less coherent by the minute.

—————————

Damian x reader

“Sorry, I am in a poor mood. I just haven’t slept in 31 hours,” Damian admitted after you grew angry at his attitude.

“Why not?” You asked.

“There’s a case that I have been helping Drake with. We’ve been taking turns with surveillance. I didn’t have time to take a nap. I’ll be fine. A few hours shouldn’t be a problem,” he said confidently.

“We don’t have to stay at this party,” you replied. “Seriously if you need to sleep.”

“No Father needs me here. He needs someone watching after him,” Damian replied while looking around the room.

“Don’t you ever get tired of it, caring for everyone?” You asked gently. “Are you going to watch after your father forever?”

Damian suddenly stopped his surveillance and looked over at you. “I’m sorry. This case is getting to me. There’s… a lot on the line.”

“Like what?”

“Drake thinks there’s trafficking involved. A new drug to low inhibition,” he practically whispered. “I can’t really talk about it.”

“Take the night off. It’ll be there tomorrow,” you retorted with a smile. Damian nodded. “Do you want to get some snacks?”

“Sure,” he replied before grabbing your hand and pulling you through the crowd. As Damian walked towards the drink station, his relatively new height afforded him the ability to see over many guests. He spotted Dick fussing over Tim. Damian immediately pulled you towards them.

Just as Damian was arriving at the table, down from them around the Christmas tree, a group of older men lit cigars as they talked business. Jason and his girlfriend happened to be nearby. Jason wanted to quit smoking, he really did. But the fact that they were lighting up as he was quite stressed about the event was hard to ignore. He pulled his cigarettes from his jacket pocket despite his partners protest.

“Can I get a light?” He asked.

At the tables Tim was becoming angry at the concern the others had for him. He suddenly stood up and stormed off towards the tree. His arms swinging wildly as his balance was compromised. And fate for Bruce Wayne had never been kind. Because just as Jason was lighting a match to light up his cigarette, Tim Drake crashed straight into him and directly into the Christmas tree.

Jason jumped back with a yell in pain as his injured arm was jostled but the damage had been done. The tree that Alfred had bought a month previous and had painstakingly decorated with glittering bobbles and dried flowers went up in flames. The tree was incredible flammable.

Tim froze as he looked at the sudden bonfire. Jason dragged him away as the heat seared the air. Screaming could be heard all around and the mass of bodies scrambled for the exits. You froze in fear as the flames tickled the streamers hung from the ceiling.

“We need to leave,” Dick said. “Go to that exit,” he pointed. “I’m going to help them.”

“I’ll come too,” Damian said.

“No, get them out,” Dick commanded. Dimly they could hear Bruce announce something over the loud speakers. Chaos ensued especially around the diamond display. Damian grabbed your hand and you grabbed Dick’s fiancés hand who grabbed Tim’s girlfriend’s hand and the four of you made towards the exit. Bodies pressed all around as people panicked. Your ears rang from the screaming your lungs began to burn from the smoke.

Across the room Dick had just barely made it to Tim and Jason and Jason’s girlfriend. The pair were trying to drag Tim towards an exit with no luck. Jason was furious that he couldn’t use one arm. Dick simply scooped Tim up fireman style before marching towards an exit.

The sprinkler system finally kicked in. The fire remained on the tree but any spread was quickly stopped.

You shivered in the cold Gotham air outside the ballroom. People ran to their cars or stood watching as the tree continued to burn. Damian pulled off his jacket to wrap around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you replied and he pulled you into a hug.

Tim’s girlfriend paced and stared at the exits hoping they would come out soon. “I don’t understand what is going on with him. Tim was not himself.”

“They’ll be out soon,” Dick’s fiancé replied. She looked terrified. Jason was injured and Tim was altered and there were so many civilians. Dick would try to get everyone out.

Fire trucks sounded in the distance as they raced towards the manor. Black smoke billowed out the doors and obscured any view. Inside was chaos as the sprinklers flooded the room. Dick finally made it to an exit and all but tossed Tim on the lawn before running back in to help others.

“I see Tim!” You cried and his girlfriend ran over to him. Visibly uninjured but very altered Tim sat on the grass in a daze.

“Are you okay?” His girlfriend asked and before he could respond, he vomited on the grass. It was electric green and Tim seemed to sag in relief.

“That’s something,” you replied.

“Yes, I think it’s our mysterious substance from the case,” Damian replied.

The last of the people had filtered out of the building and the fire had dimmed down. The firefighters quickly put it out. Dick and Jason and his girlfriend came out finally. Alfred found the group and sighed in relief.

“Thank heavens,” he said. “Let’s get you lot inside.”

They walked to the opposite side of the manor that wasn’t damaged by the smoke and moved into an informal den. Bruce and Selina soon joined them.

“There’s a problem,” Bruce started.

“Other than the fire,” Dick asked.

“And Tim?” Jason added.

“Yes, someone stole about 100 million dollars in diamonds tonight and the drug you were tracing made it’s way into the party tonight. This is now an open investigation,” Bruce said.

“Happy New Years,” Tim said from the couch as the clock struck midnight.

Part 1

#jason todd x reader #batboy x reader #red hood x reader #nightwing x reader #dick Grayson x reader #Tim drake x reader #Red Robin x reader #Damian wayne x reader #Robin x reader #batman #new years eve party

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