#i do not and will not care if i just died right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lazycats-stuff · 3 days

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Batfam at a gala with the reader being dubbed the "hearttrob", the reader is really handsome and nearly everybody wants to get into his pants. However, the reader is actually a really innocent and the family is always on a mission to stop anyone from talking to the reader who just wants to get him into their bed. They're like "nuh uh he only deserves the best"

Oh God, chaos is about to ensue lol. Just everyone being, nope.

Summary: The fam protects their handsome brother.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, people trying to get into (Y/N)'s pants, protective family...

Out of the 5 sons that Bruce has, both adopted and biological, all of them were handsome in their own way. But (Y/N) was the most handsome one, even more handsome than Damian, who was a second contender to the title. Bruce has never ever made any of them feel bad about it.

Besides, none of them really cared about that title anyway. It was bullshit according to them, but... They had agreed that (Y/N) was the most handsome one. That was something that they couldn't deny in the slightest. They all have agreed that if they weren't brothers, they would try and date him.

Of course, that's what a lot of people tried to do and (Y/N) was called a heartthrob for it. He was often in magazines, gossip ones whilst wearing something nice or casual and the internet would simply explode. It has happened a few times before and it was amusing and Jason nearly died from laughing every single time it happened.

God forbid he gets an Instagram or anything like that.

Internet would not survive in any way, shape or form.

Galas were more often that not insane to deal with. (Y/N) was always a genuine person who would really want to love someone, someone who wouldn't use him for like bragging rights or anything similar. When (Y/N) loves, he loves.

That's something that his brothers knew, alongside Bruce of course. So, being a protective they are, they made a pact to protect (Y/N) from people who would only want to sleep with him. There were many douchebags like that, who only want to get in (Y/N)'s pants.

It was nuts.

The same thing was happening tonight, at a gala for some charity. It was for the homeless people of Gotham city. (Y/N) was dressed sharply, in a classic black suit with a white shirt. Of course, he finished his look with a black tie. He moved around the room to talk to people, avoiding the knows reporters. He wasn't interested in them.

He was more interested in something else and that was his bed. Just two more hours.

However, the others noticed people looking at him, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat for them. A prize. Prey. A trophy. It didn't sit well with any of the family members. (Y/N) deserves nothing more than the best partner he could get.

Only the best.

Jason was eyeing a man who was looking at his brother and has made a move. He started walking towards his brother, but Jason was one step ahead. They were all wearing earpieces, just like on patrol. Jason lifted his glass of wine. " A man is on the move. Tim, he is in your line of sight. " Jason murmured, hiding his mouth with his glass of wine.

Tim turned his head from a man he was talking to and excused himself, quickly making his way to his brother before the douchebag could even reach him.

" Hey (Y/N), Jason wanted to talk to you. " Tim said as he patted his shoulder and (Y/N) nodded, leaving to find Jason, who heard it all and was now trying to figure out a reason to talk to (Y/N).

Tim turned his head to look at the man, who was glaring at Tim. Tim was thoroughly unimpressed.

" I know exactly what you want with my brother. I have seen it time and time before. It won't happen. " Tim said coldly and turned around, leaving the angry man behind.

Damian and Dick smirked from their spots. It was amazing to see it. Truly amazing.

And (Y/N) always turned a blind eye to it. It was either for the reason that he didn't want to deal with people or he simply didn't know. He always played dumb for it, but they all suspected that he knew.

Either way, it soothed the protective urge in them. Bruce knew what they were doing and he was doing absolutely nothing to stop his boys. Only if it was physical. Only then he would step in.

And Alfred? Alfred was the silent watcher, listening and waiting. He listened because most men like that brag about things and are bound to uncover something about themselves. And Alfred is never wrong. He always saw right through them.

As Jason and (Y/N) were talking, the others remained vigilant. It was far more interesting this way. More fun at this gala. Not just this one, but the others too. Far more interesting.

(Y/N) got himself some whiskey and just sipped it slowly. It was a nice evening. Damian moved around, seeing a man walking in the general direction of (Y/N). Damian moved through the crowd of people, watching the man like a hawk.

There was something way off about him. Something was way off. Damian couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that he couldn't ignore the feeling. If there is one thing that Damian was taught, it was to never ignore his gut feeling about people.

He kept following the man, seeing a lustful gaze in his eyes. That bastard. Damian's eyes narrowed at the man, especially when (Y/N) left to go to the bathroom. Damian's mind went into overdrive, knowing that (Y/N) would be vulnerable there.

" I'm moving to the bathroom. " Damian murmured as he approached the bathroom, making sure to keep some distance. He smudged his shirt a bit to have an excuse to go to the bathroom. He entered it, seeing someone chatting up (Y/N).

Damian cleared his throat as he approached the sinks. " (Y/N), father wants to talk to you. Says it's important. " Damian said and Bruce chuckled through the earpiece.

" Thanks Dames. " (Y/N) said with a smile and excused himself from the conversation he was having with a polite smile. The man kept up a polite smile until (Y/N) left and turned to Damian with a scowl. Damian had to control an urge to not laugh in his face.

" Listen kid, don't ruin this for me. " The man said and Damian kept his cool.

" I know who you are. Your father is a business partner of WE. And Bruce Wayne is protective of his sons so don't make me tell him what you said. " Damian said coldly, but Bruce already heard it. But of course, will keep it quiet as long as the man is somewhat respectful.

Now, the last sentence alone made the man scared. It was a well known fact that Bruce Wayne doesn't take any disrespect about his sons. Of any kind. Damian smirked as he saw that the man has paled.

Damian left without a word and saw Dick who smirked too. " Good job Damian. " Dick said as he high fived Damian in passing, composing himself quickly as the man hurried out of the bathroom, clearly distressed.

The two smirked, making Tim snort from where he watched them with Connor. Bruce subtly rolled his eyes at that, but was happy that Damian took control.

And (Y/N)? He simply remained unbothered, chatting away with Alfred, who was happy to stop for a good chat with his grandson.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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occatorcreator · 1 day

Text

Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

1 - Family Lost

Purple and his mother receive a grim diagnosis, and Purple struggles to find a cure to save his only living family member.

Content Warnings: Disease and Major Character Death

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Purple stared up at the clock that punctuated the silent waiting room with its ticking.

10:15 am. His morning elective class was close to wrapping up. He distantly thought that he should care about what he’ll miss at school, but he couldn’t focus on anything other than the hammering of the clock and how long he waited for a response.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

He looked from the clock to the door, waiting for a nurse to come and summon him. Right now, he had been in the hospital for over two hours and there hadn’t been any updates on his mother’s current condition.

If I had slept in, Purple thought, tapping his foot with anxious energy in time with the clock, would she not have made it?

The thing was, he almost had. He had almost shut his blaring alarm off and gone back to sleep. He really hadn’t been in the mood to go to school this morning; he was sure there was a test in math, and he wasn’t ready for it. School was… well, it had become more unpleasant since the divorce. Despite it being a year since Navy left, thoughts of the divorce sent his mind into a negative tailspin. All those times Navy ragged on him to wake up “bright and early” every day for routine exercise, and all those times he got annoyed by Purple’s fussing made him resent the idea of getting up at all.

He debated sleeping in to spite Navy, but what was the point of that? Not like Navy would show up to witness the spite. All that would come of sleeping in would be the omelets mom prepared growing cold. She was the only parent he had left now; he couldn’t let her down by being a brat about school.

And now he faced the possibility of having no parents… he found his mother fallen to the kitchen floor, unconscious, with the omelets burning.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Every second not knowing if Orchid was alright or dead drove Purple mad. He had driven as quickly as he could to the hospital and made enough of a scene in the emergency room to get her wheeled in right away. The doctors had escorted him to a nearby waiting room after they took Orchid to treatment, offering reassurance and describing some procedure they’re doing.

Knowing that barely worked to calm him down. Purple was no longer actively panicking, but he was fretting. He hated sitting. It was the inability to do anything but wait, unsure what the response would be, unable to take his mind off of anything but his prayers that things will be alright.

Tick tock. Tick- creak.

The door grabbed Purple’s attention. He stood up preemptively, ready to meet the nurse, only to blanch back as a giant orange stick figure ducked his way through the door frame. Clutching at his massive hand was a golden child, about four or five years old. He looked nervously around the room, sticking close to the orange stick’s leg.

“Just have a seat, Mr. Tango,” the nurse said. “We’ll call you when they’re done.”

The stick figure nodded at the nurse with a sour expression.

“Will Second be okay?” the child asked the nurse.

“Your older sibling will be fixed up,” the nurse said, smiling softly. “It’s just a minor fracture.”

And what about my mother? Purple wanted to ask. Is she going to be okay?

The question died on his tongue as Mr. Tango passed by him to take a seat. Purple instantly stepped back from the towering figure. By the time he and his child found a place to sit, the nurse had already left, shutting the door.

Great, still nothing, Purple thought, returning to his seat. He missed the prior solitude of the waiting room. With other stick figures around, he felt self conscious of his worrying. Not to mention, one of them was a small child. Purple wasn’t ready for the annoyance that would follow when that small child inevitably got bored and started wandering around, looking for things to do.

“Hello,” the child waved at Purple.

Purple took a deep breath, counted mentally to two, and looked at the child standing before him with what he hoped was a neutral expression.

“Hi,” he greeted half-heartedly.

The child tapped his hands together nervously, eyes looking down at Purple’s feet upon the less-than warm response. Somehow his sour mood didn’t send the kid crawling to his parent, which made Purple raise an eyebrow.

“What do you want?” Purple asked, baring his teeth in a false grin.

“Um, can I have that?” The child asked, pointing at the table filled with magazines.

Purple waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not using it, and you don’t need to ask. Just take it.”

The child brightened and grabbed a magazine. He retreated back to sit by his father, who’s cold gaze regarded Purple in a way that made Purple’s skin crawl. The giant’s gaze reminded him of Navy’s.

Specifically, the day Navy left. He could never forget that cold and guarded stare despite Orchid’s best attempts to shield them from him.

“I guess this is it, then,” Navy said, “I’m leaving.”

Don’t think about him, Purple mentally scolded, closing his eyes to refocus on the present.

With nothing else to get his mind off of the past and present situation, he watched as the child flipped through the magazine. It didn’t take long for the child to realize that magazines were mostly advertisements and boring articles he couldn’t read before he placed it to the side. He caught that Purple was looking at him, and Purple failed to look away in time.

“My sibby broke their thumb.”

Sibby? Purple didn’t know how to comment on that odd shorthand for sibling.

“Ah…How did that happen?” It took Purple a full second before he found his voice. He got the feeling the kid was a bit of a chatterbox, how unfortunate. Purple had no desire to talk, but he felt like he couldn’t stay silent either.

Maybe this could get his mind off of things...

“My dad had a day off, took me and Second in the park,” the child said, “We did lots of fun stuff and it was really nice out. We were playing truth or dare, and I dared Second to punch a tree!”

He looked expectantly, waiting for Purple to supply a question. Yet when Purple only bothered with a raised eyebrow, Mr. Tango cleared his throat.

“You two didn’t answer why you did that in the first place, Gold,” Mr. Tango said.

The child — Gold — looked down at his dangling legs, ashamed. “It’s cuz Sec’s as strong as you, dad.” Gold said, “I wanted to see if they could punch a hole in the tree.”

Punch a hole in a tree? Ridiculous. Purple scoffed.

“Still. Punching things without the proper technique can be dangerous,” Mr. Tango said. “I hope you two don’t do that again in the future.”

“We won’t, dad,” Gold said.

Again, Mr. Tango reminded Purple of Navy. That comment was a straight-out warning he said during sparring lessons. His father drilled in many basics on keeping yourself from breaking your arm while fighting. Having that reminder of his father again, combined with the ludicrousness of the child’s story, and the fact they were in the hospital over something so stupid made Purple surly.

“Let me guess,” Purple said, “your sibling was dumb enough to tuck their thumb in their fist while punching?”

That was harsh. Now both father and son were glaring at Purple. Purple could feel his heart hammering, desire to cower and apologize strong, but not strong enough to overcome anger brought on from constant fatigue and stress.

“Second’s not dumb!” Gold snapped. “They just didn’t know they needed to do that.”

Purple shrugged. “Sounds like the definition of dumb to me,” Purple said, “I mean tucking your thumb in is unnatural and uncomfortable, so why do that?”

“Not everyone comes into the world knowing everything there is to know,” Mr. Tango warned, “and I don’t care much for you insulting someone you hardly know.”

Mr. Tango said it with a threatening, low tone that made Purple reconsider and apologize for his meanness.

Almost. He might have, had Gold kept his mouth shut.

“They managed to knock the tree down in one hit even when doing it wrong!” Gold bragged. “I bet you can’t do that!”

Inadvertently, Gold managed to hit a sore point for Purple. Orchid and Navy both were prolific fighters in their prime, strong and agile enough to break wood and cinder blocks with a well placed hit. Purple knew it could be done, but he was never strong enough, never fast enough to do it. All he got was painful bruising and a sprain so awful he gave up trying.

And given today, Purple’s fuse was short.

“You little liar,” Purple snapped, “no one can do that.”

“I’m not!” Gold balked, and he tugged on Mr. Tango’s arm. “Dad, you saw it too! Tell him! Second did punch a tree down!”

But there was a split second of hesitation in Mr. Tango’s gaze, that moment of doubt and skepticism. Before he had the chance to defend his son, Purple pounced.

“If your dad claims that, then he’s helping a liar,” Purple said, “I thought preschool taught you better than to make up stories for attention.”

“I’m not! I’m not! I’m not!” Gold yelled, and Purple saw that the child was so worked up that tears were forming in his eyes. “I’m not a liar!”

“What is your problem?” Mr. Tango snapped, standing up tall to get between Gold and Purple. He didn’t yell like Purple did, but clearly didn’t hide his anger. “You have no right to talk to my son like that.”

“Maybe if you didn’t want me to yell at your liar of a kid,” Purple snapped, standing back up, “then you should have parented better.”

“Excuse me?”

Purple stood up. He was a pipsqueak to the massive stick figure before him, his limbs shaking from fear and rage both.

“I’m just saying, a kid who broke his wrist punching trees and one that makes up tall tales to strangers reflects poorly on you.” Purple said, “My parents wouldn’t hear me spouting such nonsense.”

“Where are they?” Mr. Tango asked, grinning without any joy. “I would like to talk with them about their parenting skills if they could raise someone who’d yell at children for little reason.”

To that Purple had no response.

Oh creator, what would mom think of me right now? Purple thought, visibly deflating and stared at the ground in shame.

Now the only sound there was the clocks ticking and Gold crying. Seeing no fight left in Purple, Mr. Tango sat down and started to console his child. Gold buried his head in his father’s chest, weeping and insisting he wasn’t a liar.

Creak

“Purple?” A nurse came in with a clipboard.

“Yes?” Purple straightened himself up. “Is she ready?”

“She is,” the nurse nodded, his expression appearing grim despite his smile. “She wants to talk to you.”

Oh, good she’s awake, Purple thought, but still… the dread in his stomach grew. Why is the nurse looking at me like that if she’s awake?

“Okay. Take me to her.”

He followed the nurse out, ignoring the pressing glares of Mr. Tango and Gold following him out.

“Rapid aging syndrome?”

Purple sat by Orchid’s beside, holding her hand. Orchid was looking rather pale and frail, but she was alive. The doctors managed to stabilize her.

But only stabilize; there was no cure for this condition.

“Yes,” Orchid said, “Explains a lot of things, like why I didn’t have the same stamina as your father even though we’re the same age.”

She said it with light airiness that nearly made Purple cry.

“But, this is a glitch in your programming, right?” Purple said, clearing his throat, “couldn’t they patch you?”

To that Orchid let out a shaky sigh and patted Purple’s hand. Purple noticed the faint tremor in her hands.

“They found out that they can’t,” Orchid said, plainly.

“Why not,” Purple asked, voice rising. “They’re doctors! Expert coders! They have to fix you! What sort of doctors would they be if they couldn’t?”

“It’s not that simple, honey,” Orchid hushed, “They discovered that my code’s corrupted. The fact they could stabilize me without losing my memories was a miracle in it of itself.”

“Surely, there’s a way around corruption,” Purple begged, “You mean to tell me they can’t stop you from just… aging to death?”

Orchid didn’t say anything at first. She looked up at the ceiling with an inscrutable expression. In that moment, Purple wondered how well she was taking the news that she was given a terrible death sentence, aging at an insanely rapid rate until she shriveled up to a husk. Looking at her now, all the marks Purple blamed on exhaustion or loss of appetite were the tell-tale signs of becoming an elder.

“The doctors gave me two choices,” Orchid said after a moment, “Either I would have 5 months left to live, or they would reset me.” She then turned to Purple. “And reset means full reset. My age, all of my memories… I would be as I was created, as my 18 year old self. I wouldn’t even recognize you as my son anymore. Even with that, I could still be… lost to a reset. There is no guarantee to save me.” Her expression turned pained. “You know which one I had to choose.”

“That’s so f-messed up,” Purple caught himself. But he wished he could swear. How could anyone sugarcoat that?

“The doctors will want to discuss care options in light of my condition,” Orchid said, “having nurses to care for me at home, or placing me in hospice care.”

“But we don’t have the money for a live-in nurse,” Purple pointed out quietly.

Orchid hummed in agreement. “And I don’t want to be moved to hospice care if I can still stand and walk.”

“I could care for you,” Purple offered. “Take off school for a bit-“

“I don’t want to place you in that position,” Orchid waved her hand, “and your education would suffer for it.“

“Mom, I’ll be blunt, my education has already suffered from… Navy leaving.” Purple couldn’t even say the divorce to her, “I won’t be able to focus on shoring up what’s left of my education knowing that your… that you're going to…”

He couldn’t say that either. He shan’t say it, or else he made it true. He didn’t want it to be true.

“Fair point…” Orchid muttered. She placed her hand on her chin and hummed. “There is always my creator,” Orchid paused, “I still have her email address, and I occasionally send her updates. We could stay with her for a while.”

“An actual human? With a desktop?” Purple asked. “Is it even possible for us to go there?”

Orchid nodded. “I’m certain something can be arranged once I reach out to my lawyer and get my affairs in order.”

“Don’t say that, mom,” Purple shook his head.

“I’m afraid we don’t have many options,” Orchid said, “Plus, it would be nice to take you to our childhood home.”

Our? Purple thought, You mean, dad also grew up on that computer?

Purple wasn’t sure about going on a human’s computer with all the risks, but like Orchid said, it wasn’t like there was any better options they could take.

I’ll find something to save you from this fate, mom, he thought, I promise.

Purple kept this vow deep in his heart as the doctors returned.

Her name was Alana, and, despite his mom promising to take him to her childhood home, she clearly owned the latest Apple Macintosh. Alana was nice, nicer than what Purple expected of a human from his history class, and she welcomed Orchid and Purple upon their arrival through her email. They had to write out words on the email in order to communicate with her, but Purple learned he didn’t need to talk with Alana often. She was present for the first two days to ensure they settled on the desktop, before just disappearing and leaving them to their own devices for days on end.

Orchid explained most of the situation to Alana. She wasn’t fully candid about her diagnosis, but she shared that Purple was her and Navy’s son, and that they needed a place to stay in the meantime.

Alana asked only one question. “What happened to Navy?”

The awkward silence and body language from both Orchid and Purple told enough for Alana to discern something happened, but she didn’t feel the need to press.

Living on a desktop was a new experience, one Orchid was happy to guide Purple on.

“Ah, they updated so many things!” Orchid said in awe, “You’re getting a better experience than I did. The desktop is so lovely!”

She leaned down to press a button. It was the finder, and it opened up a series of apps. However, she let out a groan of pain as she struggled to stand back up.

“Careful!” Purple said, lifting her up, “you know you can’t move like you used to.”

Orchid looked forlornly at what she opened, rubbing her back. Stacks of icons stretched above her without any easy way to traverse them.

“Right. Climbing would be your strong suit, you have to do that a lot on a desktop,” she said, half muttering as the advice she gave came with a realization of her condition. That her body was too old to navigate something that she had done in her youth.

Purple had to watch her as that condition worsened overtime.

Not that Purple was idle during this time. He set to work making the desktop space more accommodating for an elder. He found Flash and constructed a crude house with the pencil tool. The linework wasn’t the neatest, but it was convenient, light enough for him to pick up the house and set it down, but sturdy enough that a punch wouldn’t knock it down.

He tried looking around for Orchid and Navy’s files. After all, if they were made, then that means there had to be backup copies somewhere around. Surely, Alana transferred their files to the new computer, there had to be something to counter the apparent corruption.

“Purple, please don’t be going into Alana’s files,” Orchid warned.

Purple nearly fell off the top of the directory, not expecting to hear her voice. It started to croak with age, a tremor of strain she didn’t use to have. She leaned on a crude cane Purple drew to help support herself. He hastily went down so she didn’t have to call him.

“I’m not doing anything shady,” Purple insisted, “I was hoping to find… something.”

Orchid gave him a look. A look he knew too well when she suspected Purple was up to one of his antics. He received that look a lot whenever the school called about his moments of less-than-stellar behavior.

But as quickly as it appeared, it fell. “Look, I’m just warning you, if you poke around in her files and break it, she will be incredibly upset and hurt by that,” she chuckled lightly, “I’m speaking from experience here. Navy and I regretted how we clowned around back in the day.”

You? A trouble maker? Purple couldn’t help but smirk at the idea of Orchid, roughly around his age, causing trouble for her creator. But the smirk faded when that image contrasted the frail stick figure before him.

“Why did Alana… make the both of you?” Purple asked.

Orchid blinked, not expecting the question. She fiddled with her cane, nails gently scraping against its side.

“I don’t know. Flash animation was new and there was a genre of animation that featured fighting stick figures beginning to form. I supposed Alana wanted to add a battle couple, but I couldn’t be certain.”

Purple’s face curled at the thought. “Like she made you two to be a couple?”

“Not like that, she made us to be a team,” Orchid’s smile looked forlorn and she looked elsewhere, “the love came later.”

Purple shuffled awkwardly, knowing how that “love” ended for them all. “Why did you two leave the computer?”

“Stick City was new, and we both wanted to strike it on our own,” Orchid explained, “we wanted to be famous, and we didn’t feel like we could if we stayed on a desktop.” She let out a huff. “How funny that I ended up back here after all this time.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, Purple, I’d rather you not go poking around and getting into trouble.” Orchid placed her hand on Purple’s shoulder. “Come. I can show you some games on the Mac you can play in the meantime.”

“Games?”

“Yes, I know I can’t play the ones that are more active, but I don’t want that to stop you from experiencing the fun you can have on a desktop,” she said, “it’s way more immersive.”

Purple opened his mouth to argue something, before closing it and nodding.

I really can’t go against her wishes now, Purple thought, besides, there are healing items in games, maybe I can find something to fix her?

“What do you recommend I try, mom?” he asked.

Time moved too quickly for Purple’s liking. He did as much as he could in his investigation of the games on Alana’s computer. Some of the games were fun, but ultimately useless to his main goal. Others had healing items he had to buy from a vendor or could collect in chests. He gave these to Orchid, yet the most they did was ease her aching joints.

He found Minecraft through his investigation and it, too, had healing items that didn’t work. Yet, the game was fun, intriguing enough for even Orchid to join in on the fun. He found himself simply just building things with Orchid out of the simple blocks provided in creative mode. They began to build a foundation of a castle, but in time, only Purple was able to build the castle. When that happened, he abandoned construction to refocus his efforts in finding a cure.

Orchid was visibly getting older and weaker every passing day. She walked slower, leaned on her cane more often, and complained of pain in her bones. Vision and hearing were going, and Purple had to draw her glasses and hearing aides to help her.

Nothing was working. He tried experimenting with healing items he found: mixing it into her food, combining it with other mechanics, and even breaking into a game’s code to see if there was anything he could pull. All his efforts did was ease the burdens of aging. He could not cure nor save Orchid from her fate.

Eventually, Orchid became too weak to even leave her bed. Purple was torn between wanting to stay by her side and care for her or leaving to find something he possibly overlooked. He settled for spawning a villager from an egg to be her nurse while he stepped away. But walking away was difficult; he felt every hour he was away was the hour he came back to find her…

He came crawling back with nothing to show for it.

“Is there anything in your game that can stop this?” Purple asked the villager, one night after he returned. “To stop her from dying?”

The villager looked around, unsure if Purple was genuinely engaging with them or speaking out loud to himself. When Purple remained silent, the villager felt like they needed to respond.

“I don’t know,” they admitted, “I haven’t heard of anything like that.”

“You do realize you don’t age, right?” Purple continued. “You and every video game character are just frozen, as you are. You don’t have to worry about growing old, leaving your kids and loved ones behind...”

“That’s not…” the villager trailed off when he met Purple’s cold stare. “It’s not that simple..”

“Seems pretty simple to me. You, a computer program, live on, while us stick figures, also computer programs, grow old and die. How unfair is that?” Purple muttered. “I ask again. Is there anything in this stupid game that can make her ageless like you?”

The villager shook his head and took a step back. Something was in Purple’s voice that deeply frightened the sniveling NPC. And for a moment, Purple thought of pulling out his sword and stabbing the villager for his unhelpfulness.

After all they were only ageless, not immortal. Weak.

He walked away from the villager, but those horrid thoughts followed him.

“What’s happening to Orchid?”

Alana logged on to find her desktop disheveled: a half finished castle from Minecraft, a crude house with a crude bed where Orchid lay in it. She must look so bad that even a human could see it on the screen.

Purple stayed by her side, unable to sleep, and stared blankly at the writing above him. He dared not grab the pen he used to write, he didn’t want to get up and leave his mother’s side.

It had been five months. Her time was almost up, and all his efforts to stop it amounted to nothing.

The cursor moved down and Purple placed himself between it and his mother.

“Don’t!” he said, splaying his hand out. He knew Alana couldn’t hear, but he spoke anyway. “She’s very fragile.”

“Is that Alana?” Orchid croaked.

Her feeble, weak voice broke Purple’s heart to hear. Her glasses were off to the side, but she didn’t reach for them.

“Yes, it’s her.”

“Ah, I'm glad,” Orchid said, “I worried… I wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.”

“No, no mom, you don’t have to,” Purple said, clinging to her hands. “There- I’m still searching for a cure- I can-“

“Shh,” Orchid placed her hand on his cheek, stilling him. “No, Purple, honey. My time is up. And I don’t want to see you wasting your time searching for a cure that doesn’t exist.”

“But I can’t give up, not now,” Purple shook his head. Her face began to blur and hot tears streaked down his face. “I don’t want you to leave me. Stay here. Please.”

“I don’t want to go, either,” Orchid coughed, “I want to be with you… but I don’t want you to suffer for my sake.”

She wiped his tears with her shaking, wrinkled hands. A pointless endeavor, for Purple could not stop sobbing.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Purple choked, holding her hand.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Purple,” Orchid said. Her hand slackened to her side and eyes closed. “Promise me something, Purple?”

“What?” Purple leaned in. “What do you need me to do?”

There was a beat of silence, just the raspy rise and fall of her chest.

“Promise me that you'll…” Orchid whispered so faintly, every word laborious. “Promise me you’ll… take good care of yourself… that you’ll find someone-” She broke off into coughing.

“Hush, hush. Of course, of course I will.” Purple said and hugged Orchid. “I promise.”

Orchid didn’t return the hug, too weak to do so.

“I love you,” she wheezed.

Then, she let out a shuddering gasp and fell limp within his arms.

“Mom?” Purple pried away, staring at her gaunt face, eyes closed. He saw that she was becoming translucent, fading away like a spirit.

“Mom? Please…”

Then there was nothing, just him clinging to the blankets. All that Orchid was became nothing now. Not a trace of her was left, except her scent and his memories.

And with that he wept openly into the empty bed while Alana wordlessly hovered above.

#occatorart #alan becker #animator vs animation #animator vs minecraft #second family au #cw death #ava purple #ava orchid #ava king #ava gold #cw disease #existential dread

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bigfatbimbo · 1 day

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I'll see your human!vox doesn't want anybody to know about his submissive role in a relationship and raise you: everybody at the office already knows, and they just don't bring it up. Vox is the one signing their paychecks, so they'll turn a blind eye to just about anything. But the reason everybody knows, is that Vox is a LOT more vocal than he thinks he is. Or at least he's not as quiet as he thinks. They would've thought any businessman having a "private meeting" with their hot secretary was gonna be sex anyway, but now it's just confirmed when they hear Vox's voice through the wall "Ohh, fuck, yes, right there, please...Faster, oh, god--" so they all just go about work as usual, pretending their boss isn't getting his ass mind-blowingly fingerbanged at 9 AM on a Tuesday. And when Vox walks out, straightening his hair and adjusting his tie, everybody just acts like they didn't even notice he was gone. This makes Vox think "oh fuck yeah, they didn't even notice. I am SO GOOD at this office affair thing. I could write a book on this shit" and he straight up dies before he finds out it was EXTREMELY obvious that his secretary had him bent over his desk all the time.

-@hazblog-hoetells 💚

I like this idea and i’ll tell you why ☝️🤨

A human Vox au would obviously take place in the 1950s and so not only would a dominant women be foreign to him [i’ve already talked about that aspect] but so would the idea of getting pegged or finger fucked like oh my god!!

Proposing that as an idea to him would have him choking on his coffee and ruining his paperwork. Like he’d say no at first. Until one day in his office he practically begs for it, because yes, he’s been thinking about being fucked by you ever since.

And so like finger fucking him hard and good while bending him over his desk until even his hand can’t cover his whines for more as he drill into him.

The idea that the entire office knows he’s submissive is fucking hilarious. He’s in charge of them, clearly, and as long as he’s paying them good they don’t have any reason to snitch or giggle at his sex life.

But I do think that’d be more possible a situation in hell than in real life 1950s. Because of period standard sexism, lots of respect would immediately be lost for Vox and some nark-ass man would probably snitch to a superior that he’s having relations with his secretary.

So carefulness would have to be key in this scenario. But the idea is fucking hilarious so like..

No because he’d think he was being so slick that he wouldn’t even be suspicious of people knowing, even when he walks by and earns some chuckles. He’d be that confident.

#hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #dom reader

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 2 days

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 24, Undercover - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, exotic dancing, underage drug use, implications of human trafficking, poorly translated Russian

Word Count: 1.8k

Previously On...: You returned back to the safehouse. Sam told you Bucky's been trying to avoid Cunthrage, but you're done caring.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I love Dimitri. <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

You spent the next few days in one of two ways: your work hours trying to find out as much about Kozlov’s silent partners as possible, and your off time looking for someone to fuck the memory of Bucky right out of you.

You were coming up empty on the former, and even worse on the latter. It didn’t seem to matter how many guys you found to put their dicks in you; none of them did what Bucky could do to your body. You’d at least learned from your mistake with Bad Decision #1 and had gone out and bought a large pack of condoms. You weren’t going to run any more risks in that department.

As you entered the floor for the start of your next shift, Henchman #2– Dimitri– you reminded yourself, approached you.

“Cherry, yes?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Boss vants you to dance in his private lounge tonight,” he said, gently herding you in the direction of Kozlov’s suite of rooms.

“Okay,” you said hesitantly. “Is there a private party, or…” You left the thought hanging, hoping Dimitiri would fill the silence.

Bless his heart, the idiot did. He leaned down to whisper conspiratorially as you walked together. “Zer is big boss with Kozlov tonight,” he told you, and your heart nearly stopped. You couldn’t believe your luck. “He vishes to see ze best talent, and Kozlov ask for you special.” Your eyes glanced down to your bangle. Were they about to try and make you their latest offering for the auction block?

“Big boss?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “But I thought Kozlov owned the club. How can he have a boss if he is the boss?”

You’d stopped now in front of the doors to Kozlov’s rooms.

Dimitiri laughed, as though you were just a silly girl who couldn’t possibly understand how the world worked. “Kozlov owns Viggle Room, yes. Dis iz true. But big boss is from large group zat funds club. Very secret group. Very scary.” He raised his hands like monster claws and laughed. “Kozlov calls zem– how do you say? Gidra.” Hydra.

You gasped, and Dimitri mistook your surprise for fear.

“Oh, not to worry, little dove! I zink zis group not so scary as zey pretend to be. Gidra all talk.” He held up his hand like a puppet. “All ze time, Gidra is ‘blah, blah, blah,’ yes? No action.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, hoping you weren’t pressing your luck with your question.

“Zer is somezing Gidra iz looking for. Zey vant it very bad. Very, very bad. Zey look for long time, yes? But never find. Dimitri think, Gidra cannot be good at job if ze cannot find zis zing zey are to be looking for, no?”

“Well, what are they looking for? Maybe I’ve seen it.” Yeah, you were laying it on a little thick now, but you wanted to keep the man talking to see what other nuggets of intel he was willing to drop in your lap.

“Aw, little dove iz very sweet to ask. But Dimitri doez not know vhat zis important zing iz. Kozlov never say.” “That doesn’t seem very nice of him,” you said, hedging on a bet to gain move of the man’s confidence. “You’ve always seemed like a very good employee for Mr. Kozlov. Very loyal, very brave. He should reward you by trusting you more.”

Dimitri’s chest puffed up a bit at your words. “Little dove is kind. Dimitri iz not worried. Kozlov will tell if Dimitri must know.”

Well, that failed.

Dimitri knocked on the door, and after a moment, Kozlov answered, shirt half unbuttoned and nose already red from having snorted something. Wonderful, you thought. This’ll be great.

“Cherry Pie, boss,” Dimitri said, presenting you to Kozlov. The look the club owner gave you as he eyed you up and down was downright lecherous and you had to suppress the way it made your skin crawl.

“Ah, ze little dove, at last!” Kozlov exclaimed, throwing the door open wider. You glanced over his shoulder and could see a few other men, among them six or seven of Kozlov’s top girls in various states of undress. “Come, come,” he motioned you inside. “I have friendz I vish you to meet!”

If you had been expecting Kozlov to walk you up to each man and introduce them by name, you were sorely mistaken. Instead, he put his hands on your shoulder and addressed them as if you were an inanimate object.

“Gentlemen, I present our Cherry Pie! She haz only been vith us a short time, but she haz proved very popular, and has much talent. Show them vhat you do, little dove.”

He smacked your ass, your cue to begin your dance. You tried to keep your focus on the men’s conversation as you gyrated to the music, but one of the other girls danced her way over to you and tried striking up a conversation.

“Hi! I’m Chloe! I hope you don’t mind; I watched some of your sets. You’re such a good dancer!” You smiled in her direction, not wanting to take your concentration from the men, who seemed to be comparing the girls against one another.

“How long have you been in the business,” the girl– Chloe– asked you.

“A while,” you murmured

“No wonder you’re so good, then!” She smiled brightly as she bent over and shook her ass. “You’ve had time to practice. I just started. My stepdad set me up at this place. I guess he used to play cards with Mr. Kozlov? That’s how he knew the club needed more dancers.”

That caught your attention and you froze momentarily. “How old are you?” you asked her. You turned to really look at her. God. She could have been you fifteen years ago.

Chloe leaned in close and whispered in your ear. “Eighteen,” she said with a giggle– you didn’t believe her for a minute, “but my stepdad said if anyone asks, I’m supposed to tell them I’m twenty-one”

Your stomach turned, and you felt for a moment like you might be sick. “Why aren’t you in school?” you asked her, trying to keep the sudden tremble out of your voice.

Chloe shrugged as she turned in a seductive circle. “My stepdad says we need money more than I need school right now. He said once we’re back on our feet, I can go back.”

“What about your mom? What does she say? She can’t agree with that.”

Chloe’s face fell, and the churning sensation in your stomach intensified. “She’s sick.” Her voice was so soft now you had to strain to hear it.

Your breathing began coming faster, your pulse picking up. This was wrong. “You shouldn’t be here, Chloe,” you whispered to her, desperation in your voice.

Chloe frowned and paused her dancing. “I know I’m not as good as you, but I’m a fast learner. I’ll get better.”

“No,” you interjected quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I mean you shouldn’t be in this club, you shouldn’t be a fucking stripper. You’re just a kid. You should be in school, getting an education, not shaking your ass for some scumbag stepfather.”

A heavy crease appeared between Chloe’s brows. “He’s not a scumbag,” she countered. “He works hard, but the money’s just never enough. Mom’s medicine is expensive, and we don’t have insurance.”

“Then he should have gotten you a job at McDonald’s or something, not making you show strange men your tits for money!” you hissed.

Chloe took a step away from you. “You’re not better than me,” she said, and you could hear the hurt in her voice.

“I never said I was,” you began.

“Ladies!” Kozlov called, interrupting you and drawing the girls’ attention back to where the men were sitting, “come, it iz time to share some party favors!”

On the table were lines of coke, one prepared for each dancer. “Who vill go first?” Kozlov asked with a grin.

Chloe stepped forward, casting you a cold glance.

“Ah, Chloe! Come, come, love.” You wanted to scream, to swipe your hand across the table and send the white powder flying across the room, but it was vital you maintain your cover. You didn’t have nearly enough information to risk blowing it over some, well, blow.

The men murmured appreciatively as Chloe bent over, making sure to point her ass in their direction, as she snorted the line up her nose. It was obvious by the ease in which she did it, with no hesitation, that this was not her first time. You closed your eyes.

One by one, the other girls stepped forward to do their lines. You noticed how the men murmured amongst themselves as each girl stepped up, as if they were judging them. And then it hit you.

This was a test.

They were determining how well you each followed orders, how much resistance you would put up. You watched as some of the girls sniffled and sneezed as they inhaled; these were the girls who made the men seem happiest– you knew they were pleased to see a girl who apparently had never done coke before willingly do so just because a man told her to. They were judging your submissiveness.

Finally, there were only two of you left: you, and a redhead you knew went by Birdie. The poor girl looked terrified and was shaking her head. You stepped forward.

“Ah, little dove,” Kozlov cooed, “I vaz vondering vhen you vould come play.” You took a deep breath to steel your nerves, bent down, and snorted the two remaining lines yourself.

You felt the rush hit you almost immediately. “Oops,” you giggled, “sorry, Birdie. I guess I got a little greedy.” There was no mistaking the gratitude in the other girl’s eyes– it was obvious to her that you had snorted the second line so that she wouldn’t have to.

You could already feel your heart begin to race, and for a moment, you almost felt like you had two heartbeats. Kozlov came up behind you and wrapped a lanky arm around your waist.

“Naughty, naughty, little dove,” he smirked at you. “I vill have to punish you later,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver of repulsion throughout your body, which Kozlov must have taken for anticipation, because he pressed his hips into your back, and you could feel his erection press against you.

From there, your memories of the night became hazy. You had brief flashes of awareness– grinding against one of the visiting men– kissing another dancer– Kozlov’s hands all over your body. You knew the situation was not ideal, that Sam would be furious with you. Hell, you knew you could potentially jeopardize the entire mission, but in the moment, you realized that all the pain, all the anger and rage you’d been holding in because of Bucky– all that was just gone, as though it had blown away on the wind. And though a tiny voice in the back of your head was telling you you’d regret everything in the morning, for the moment, you were grateful.

<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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buckttommy · 2 days

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jack 👉👈 how do you picture their second kiss? does buck initiate it? also do you have any general lil headcanons you feel like sharing? 👉👈💞

for u, my little meerkat?? anything.

so. their second kiss. their second kiss. hmmmm. i think their second kiss is a lot more hesitant than their first kiss, like. they actually know what they are to each other now. like, their first kiss, i think, kind of came as a surprise to both of them, but this one? this one means something. they're both jumping in head-first with this kiss. so. they're hesitant, not because they're afraid but because they're exploring what it means to be this close, to feel this connected to each other. their bodies are pressed together, they're dancing (swaying) to the tune of whatever's spilling through the hospital speakers (maddie and chimney are going to get married in hospital, mark my words) and. like. neither of them smell the greatest because *gestures wildly at the bachelor party* and whatever goes on afterwards, so they haven't had time to shower. but. they're close. this is their moment. no one that they loved or cared about died and life is kind of very fucking beautiful right now.

so. their noses are brushing. their breaths are caught in their throats. and, this close, buck can see every line in tommy's face and tommy can see every one of buck's acne scars and they both think that the other has never looked so fucking perfect, so fucking beautiful as they do right now. and when their mouths meet, neither of them are surprised by how much it feels like coming home. and it shouldn't, right, like. after two dates, one ending in complete disaster, being together like this, kissing like this shouldn't feel so safe, so warm, so comforting. but it does. and they're both in SO much deeper than they ever could have imagined. none of this has gone the way either of them thought it would when chim called tommy out of the blue. but. they're here now. they're here now and everything is so good. so good that they can't imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else than right with each other and one day, after they get married, they won't have to

+ bonus headcanon just for u: lately i've been feeling particularly soft about clothes sharing and so, like, one day tommy gets hurt on the job. buck sits vigil by his bedside, of course, and. every time one of his family sees him, he's in one of tommy's jackets. or if he's not wearing one of his jackets, he's wearing one of his pairs of sweatpants, or one of his pairs of jeans, or something. sometimes the whole damn outfit is tommy's from the shirt down to the boots (cos they're roughly the same size) and. it's a little tragic. you know? it's a little tragic and a lot sad because the pants are always a little too long and the jackets are always a little too big and the clothes so clearly do not belong to him. but no one says anything. i mean, how could they? neither tommy nor buck has said anything to suggest as much, but everyone sees them when they're together. everyone sees the way they touch each other, the way they kiss, the way they interact, and they're all pretty damn sure that tommy and buck are the loves of each other's lives. so when maddie comes to sit beside him and she takes his hand in hers and leans her head on his shoulder, she doesn't make a comment about how the sleeves of tommy's jacket are pulled over buck's hands so he can rest his chin on his fist and smell the lingering scent of detergent and cologne and tommy. and like. yes it's a little sad but i just love the idea of buck finding comfort in the way his boyfriend smells and the way his clothes fit even when he's not "around."

and of course when tommy wakes up, buck offhandedly mentions that he was practically living in his clothes because he truly has no idea how deeply that knowledge just... rocks tommy to the core because, like. he's never been loved so... desperately, so earnestly before. but buck, evan, loves him like that. so after his near-death experience, he goes out and buys a shit-load of jackets and hoodies and pants and whatever and wears the hell out of them. he makes sure his clothes are always covered in his signature cologne, makes sure he "accidentally" leaves a bunch of his clothes at buck's loft just in case and. it's not much. you know? and it kind of feels like jinxing something because tommy intends to love this man for the rest of his life and he intends to live for a long time. but. it's something. he loves him and he wants evan to have a piece of him always. even if he doesn't have him. anyways yeah i'll fucking cry about it.

#SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#tv: 911 #jack answers mail #bucktommy

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dyns33 · 2 days

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Family respect

Alfie and his Shelby wife are back for more adventures.

"He's back." was the first thing Ada said to her when she picked up the phone, and that was enough for Y/N to understand who she was talking about.

If she had hardly known her mother, who died when she was young, she had not really known her father well either, while he was still alive.

The relationship between Arthur Shelby Sr. and his family had always been complicated. Long before Y/N was found by Polly when she was still a child, abandoned in an orphanage.

It had been luck or fate that her father quickly spoke of her in a letter sent to his sister, writing that he had made a little mistake during a trip. That was what he named Y/N, his little mistake.

The rest of Shelby didn't see her that way. They had adored her from the moment they saw the girl, welcoming her as if she had always been there, as if they had the same mother, and protecting her against this drunken and tyrannical father.

There was still respect for the elders. This notion was important to the romani, and some therefore found it difficult to completely rebel against the man despite his many faults.

This was especially difficult for Arthur. He admired him when he was younger, and even though he often stood up for his brothers and sisters, he blindly followed him in all his dangerous plans.

He had often gotten into trouble because of their father. Tommy was very angry with him for that.

This naivety was undoubtedly one of the reasons why it was not Arthur who managed the family affairs even though he was the oldest.

He never complained about it. As he followed their father, he followed Thomas without question, recognizing that his little brother was smarter, more stubborn, better at business and discussion.

But the few times their father had passed through Birmingham again, he had criticized this absurd hierarchy, and even if Arthur eventually bowed his head to Tommy, there were always several days when he was at their father's side, ready to believe that he had changed.

“Where is Thomas ?” Y/N asked her sister, because she didn't want to hear more about their father at the moment.

"Probably in one of the neighboring farms, with horses, to calm down and stop himself from shooting someone between the eyes."

"And the others ?"

"Polly is talking to them in the kitchen. She thinks dad wants something. Money probably. He'll leave quickly when he gets what he's looking for. But I'm afraid of what will happen in the meantime."

"I'll take care of it. I'll find Arthur." Y/N promised, because absolutely anything could happen to Arthur Senior, no one would be sad, but leaving her brother was out of the question.

Ollie asked nothing when she ordered him to send his best men to look for her older brother, and to watch what he was doing. He just nodded, calling her "Madam Solomons" with great respect.

According to Alfie, she had seduced the poor boy, as well as many of his employees, the residents of Candem, and even the dog.

"Before, Cyril sat with me by the fire. Now he moans by the door until you come home. Where have you been, love ?"

“You know very well where I was.”

"Damn right. With Tommy, dear Tommy. Tell me, treacle, why are my men outside a bar instead of working, uh ? Because when I asked Ollie, he just shrugged his shoulders, saying that those were the orders, but I didn’t give those orders. Remind me who’s in charge here ?”

“Cyril.”

"Very funny, love. Hilarious. Why are my men following this crazy dog who serves as your brother ?"

Of course Y/N could have told him. It would have been simple, and Alfie would have sighed and muttered insults, because the whole thing was nonsense and he didn't really care because it wasn't his family.

Since it wasn't his family, she decided there was no need for him to know the details.

There was no need for him to hear about her father.

So she simply replied that Arthur was in trouble, which wasn't a lie, and that she was just checking to make sure he wasn't going to end up in prison, or worse.

If he noticed that she was hiding something, her husband accepted it, growling when he saw that she was petting the dog before giving him attention.

Several days passed, and Arthur Shelby Sr did not leave. The whole community was nervous, which made the London underground scene much more dangerous than usual.

So Y/N went by herself to look for her brother in the tenth pub he had visited this week, finding him alone at the counter while their father was talking with some men in another room.

"Little sis ! In my arms !" shouted the eldest cheerfully, hugging her tenderly.

“Come home with me.”

"I can't. Dad needs me for a case. A big thing."

"You know very well how this is going to end. It always ends the same way."

"You sound like Tommy… He's changed this time. He wants to make amends, he has the right for a chance."

"He got more chances than Judas got silver coins, Arthur. Please."

"Y/N ? Is that you ? You grew up, I almost didn't recognize you ! Beautiful. When I think that I saw you as a mistake, I was wrong, right, son ? A charming girl, all men would want her."

In that moment, she saw in her brother's eyes that he knew he had a choice. He could defend her, saying that no one talked about his little sister like that, not even their father. He could also keep quiet, nodding his head and not talking about her marriage.

But he had drunk a lot, and despite all this time he still had resentment towards Alfie, so he opened his stupid mouth.

“She married a Jew.”

Their father turned to Arthur with a huge frozen smile, waiting for a follow-up to this joke, before looking at Y/N again with a darker look, understanding that he was serious.

"… A Jew ? You married a pompous old cheapskate ?"

"Arthur, come home with me." Y/N insisted, trying to ignore everything around her brother.

"He's not just pompous, he's crazy. And a coward. And mean. He can't be trusted. I'm sure he's putting on an act to get to us, holding Y/N hostage."

"Well said, son. It's quite possible that's what happening. They know how to play, those dirty rats."

"Arthur, come home with me."

"I knew right away he was evil. Even before he killed Billy and betrayed us. I don't know why Tommy agreed to work with him again, or give him our sister's hand."

"Thomas has always been less clever than you. They're a bit sodomite, you know ? He was able to seduce several of us for sure."

"No… No, that bastard son of a bitch, I'll kill him."

"Arthur, insult my husband once more and you will never see me again."

The threat caught her brother's attention for a second, like the tears in her eyes, but their father continued to criticize Alfie, and as always Arthur followed him blindly, considering that nothing could happen to him if he imitated his father.

A hand then rested on her shoulder, while she hesitated between crying and hitting him. Alfie's smile was quick, only for her, as he held her close, watching the two Arthurs who were surprised to see him.

Y/N thought he would say something, but he only placed a kiss on her forehead, leading her outside, to the car that took them home.

"… I'm sorry."

"Why, treacle ? Because your father is an asshole and your brother is a moron ? I don't see how this is your fault."

“I’m still sorry.”

"Nothing I haven't already heard. I promise I've never slept with Tommy."

"You are not funny." she whispered as she sobbed, letting the tension leave her body. He muttered that she was probably right as he took her in his arms, not knowing what to do to comfort her.

It was not easy to lose a family member. Y/N had been close to all of her siblings, but Arthur had always been there for her, like she had always been there for him, standing up for him, respecting his ideas, making sure he was okay.

She loved him, but she also loved her husband, and she could not tolerate him being insulted like this. If she said she wouldn't talk to him anymore, then she wouldn't talk to him anymore.

So it was a shock to find him in the middle of her living room the next day, holding his cap with two hands, looking miserable and embarrassed. Y/N almost told him to leave, before seeing Alfie standing in the corner, tapping the ground with his cane.

"Well, come on, mate. The lady is waiting."

"… I'm sorry, lil sis."

“Where is father ?”

"In prison, I think. He organized bets, the coppers caught him. They would have had me if… I mean if…"

"If I hadn't saved his sorry ass." Alfie translated, raising his eyebrows when Arthur growled at him. "Maybe I should have left him, he made you cry after all and I didn't like it."

"Y/N… I'm sorry. Your husband is a cunt, but… But he's not that bad, I think. I see that you're happy and he treats you well. I want you happy. I'll try… If he doesn't deserve it, I won't knock his teeth out."

"Mazel tov ! I'll buy you a drink, brother-in-law, but I don't drink and I want you to leave. Well, come one. Out."

Her husband still gave Arthur time to hug his sister, who accepted his apologies on the condition that he finally stopped following their father in his usual bullshit.

To avoid any problems, she only notice out loud after he had left that he had not winced when Alfie called him "brother-in-law".

“Hangover, probably.”

"Or he considers you part of the family now. Normally it's Polly, Tommy, John or me who keep him from completely tripping."

"If you hadn't cried, I would have let him drown in his beer and piss, treacle."

"I wonder how the cops knew, our father is often quite secretive. He moslty ruins everything by wanting more money or insulting someone."

"Oh. Someone who looks like Ollie may or may not have called the police on orders from their boss." Alfie muttered, pouting a little.

"… Arthur will kill you if he finds out."

"He said you were a mistake. Nobody says my wife is a mistake. Would you rather he be in jail or at the bottom of the Thames ? Now I'm sleepy, love. I've been running all night to find your stupid brother, come to bed with me."

“It’s nine in the morning.”

"So what ?"

The only true thing her brother had said was that Alfie was insane, but that wasn't a bad thing. His madness was charming, tender and funny, and if one day they had children, he would be the most protective and caring father in the world.

You only had to see him with Cyril to be sure, even if he slammed the door in the dog's face to be alone for a few hours, only letting him in because he couldn't concentrate anymore. cause of the squealing.

"There you go. Before, he stayed on the ground, now he jumps in my place to press against you, while it's me who opens the door for him despite the cold and my poor back."

“Shut up Alfie and go back to sleep.”

"It is noon."

"Come here."

"Very well, damn woman. You will explain to my men why I was not at work."

Since they had all heard about Y/N's family troubles, they adored her, and were quite happy that the boss wasn't there to yell at them, no one asked Y/N why Alfie had been absent. They even gave her flowers, which greatly annoyed the King of Camden.

They didn't ask if he wanted flowers too. The Shelby sent him some gifts, bottles, money and a horse, without having to say why, and Alfie was in a weird mood for the rest of the day.

Y/N only smiled, knowing that he was lost but proud to be accepted by her family.

#peaky blinders #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #afie solomons fanfiction #shelby reader

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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 days

Text

Taking A Chance

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You go and get a tattoo done by the grumpiest of tattoo artists.

Squares Filled: tattoo shop au (2021) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Why am I being such a pussy? Just go in and ask for it. I’ve wanted this for a year. God, if my mother could see me now, she’d be disappointed.

You look up at the tattoo shop’s sign and see the last letter flickering on and off. You have the money. You can get this tattoo done. All you have to do is go in and ask for it. This is the second time you’ve been outside this tattoo shop because you couldn’t go in the first time. It’s not a fear of pain; you can handle pain pretty well. It’s the fear of something being permanent on your body.

You won’t be able to take this off. Anyone who says lasering it off works is wrong. There will always be a scar to remind you of the mistake you made. Stop being such a baby. This is for Mom. This place has been highly rated as one of the best tattoo shops in your town. If you’re going to get a tattoo, may as well go to the best.

You push the door open and walk inside only to be greeted with a hint of smoke and a lot of Axe body spray. Four very attractive men stand behind the counter just chatting amongst themselves. You’ve seen them in town before. They often frequent the local bar so you know exactly who they are.

Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Erik Killmonger (pretty sure that’s not his legal last name), and Clint Barton. As soon as they hear the small bell above the door go off, they stop talking and look at you.

“Can I help you?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, I’d like to get a tattoo today, if possible.”

“Did you have anything in mind?”

You hand Steve the paper you’ve been saving since your mom died. She drew a delicate vine of her favorite flowers, orchids. She was always a good artist so she drew this as a reminder of her before she died. It’s very precise and delicate line work, and the only person who can do this kind of style is Loki Laufeyson.

“The only person who can do this kind of work is Loki. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.” Speaking of, Loki walks out with an unlit cigarette in his mouth and a lighter in his hand. “Loki, care to help this pretty lady out?”

He shows Loki the picture but the artist barely gives it to two seconds of his attention.

“No. I’m going for a smoke.”

He has a thick British accent that’s hard not to blush at.

“Sorry, kid,” Steve says and hands back the picture to you.

“No, it’s okay,” you glare at Loki who has yet to leave the room. “I get it. His lungs are as bad as his tattoo skills.”

All four men snicker from your jab while Loki finally locks eyes with you. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, pockets it and the lighter, and opens the back door with a slight smirk.

“Fine. Right this way, Darling.” He takes you to his section of the shop which is pristine and very clean. He douses a few squirts of hand sanitizer on his hands before getting out the necessary equipment. “Where do you want it?”

“My ribs.”

“Is this your first?”

“Yes.”

“You want your first tattoo to be on your ribs? That’s gonna hurt.”

“I can take pain,” you glare.

His mouth twitches as he looks you up and down. After a beat, he nods and sits down on his wheelie chair.

“Shirt off,” he demands.

You do but keep your bra on. You made sure to wear something loose like a bralette that still keeps everything covered but won't be a hindrance to the place where you want the tattoo. You get onto the table and lay on your back, putting the side you want it on closer to Loki.

Loki gets set up and prints a stencil of the drawing you have. After putting it in the place you want it and confirming you like it there, he starts the tattooing process. The pain is sharp like a thousand needles being placed into your body at once, but it’s a dull pain compared to some of the other things you had to endure in life.

Loki has his left gloved hand on your body to keep you still while his right moves the needles right where he wants it. You don’t know where else to stare but at him, observing the way his eyes rake over your body to his hands which are delicate against your skin.

You had a full meal before you got here but this is making your head spin. It’s not because of the needles, it’s Loki. You’ve never met anyone like him. You basically insulted him to get what you want. Loki doesn’t have many clients because they always say the same thing: he’s rude, arrogant, and only accepts what he wants to do, not the other way around.

However, when you challenged him earlier, he knew you were someone he wanted to tattoo. Not only that, but he wants to get to know you. He's not a big talker so he doesn’t know what to say to you, and you’re not going to pry into his personal life like that. You squirm a bit from the pain, and he places his large hand over your stomach to keep you from moving.

“Be a good girl and stop moving unless you want me to fuck up,” he says and looks at you.

You quickly look away in hopes he didn’t see you checking him out, and you nod.

“Sorry.”

You peek at him to see a smirk on his face indicating that he did, in fact, catch you. You don’t want any color so the process doesn’t take long. He’s done with the tattoo in less than three hours since it’s only line work, and he rubs off the excess moisture so he can apply a patch of SecondSkin. Before he does it, you admire his work in the mirror.

See that, Mom? I’ll always have a piece of you with me wherever I go. I miss you. I love you.

“How do you like it?”

“It’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” he scoffs.

“Better than your lungs, I assume,” you smirk.

There you go again, making him want you more. He chuckles as he grabs the SecondSkin and cuts a piece off. He applies it directly over your tattoo and smooths it out.

“Come back in tomorrow where I’ll clean it and replace it with another patch of SecondSkin. Then, come back in a week and I’ll remove it for good. It should be healed then.”

“Okay,” you whisper and put your shirt back on.

“If you ever want more, call me,” he smirks.

He hands you his business card with his personal phone number on it.

“If you’re lucky,” you smirk and leave his office to pay in the front with Steve.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time,” Bucky says from the doorway.

“Shut up,” Loki grumbles but smiles when he hears your laughter come from the front of the shop.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#loki #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki fiction #loki fan fiction #loki fan fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fan fiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fluff #marvel fiction

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deerlottie · 15 hours

Note

ex gf lottie + statement when you get hurt on the plane, reconciliation, pls?

warnings: angst, fluff, martinez!reader for plot reasons.... probably shit medical advice idk, not proofread

you wake up to the feeling of being dragged, garbled voices speaking in a rushed manner. as you come to, you can make out lottie's voice in the mix of everyone else's. you're propped against something when you get the energy to open your eyes, and the sight that greets you has you in shock.

everyone's in a panic, and the plane you were just on a minute ago crashed into the ground with bodies surrounding it.

"hey, hey, don't look." lottie, your ex-girlfriend, grabs your chin softly and faces you towards her. she has a couple of scratches on her face and her clothes are covered in soot.

"l-lottie?" you gurgle, spitting up blood. you suddenly feel lightheaded, seeing black dots in your vision as you try to keep yourself awake.

"shit, where are you hurt?" lottie pats you down urgently, her stomach dropping as she touches something sharp lodged in your abdomen. she lifts your shirt up and finds a piece of metal from the plane sticking out of you. it doesn't look too deep, she thinks. maybe she can just pull it out?

"don't," you plead, already knowing what she's planning to do as she grips onto your shoulders. "please, just, keep it—"

you let out a roaring scream as lottie pulls it out, murmuring apologies as she covers your gash with her hands, yelling for misty to come over with the bandages. darkness clouds your vision, and you pass out in lottie's arms.

you wake up again, but this next time to a fire. you're lying in someone's lap, their fingers tangled in your hair as they play with it. you know who it is in an instant.

"you could've given me a warning, you know." you croak out, voice hoarse.

lottie's sudden jolt makes you groan in pain, clutching your bandaged stomach. she helps you sit up gently, looking at you with a regretful expression. "i know, i just- i wasn't thinking. i was scared and when you passed out i thought you were-"

she stops herself, taking a deep breath. she doesn't wanna think about that. all she cares about is that you're here and alive and breathing next to her. she wouldn't be able to live with herself if you had died like that, especially after what happened between you two just a few days prior to the game that won them the spot to nationals.

you still have bitter feelings about it.

how could she break up with you? you thought she loved you. she broke up with you when you had come to congratulate her in the lockeroom before rushing out, leaving you heartbroken and confused as to why.

how awkward it was when your dad said he was bringing you and your brothers on this trip.

you avoided lottie like the plague in the airport and on the plane, sitting the farthest you could away from her, thankful that she did the same. the last thing you remember is falling asleep on travis' shoulder before you woke up to excruciating pain.

lottie clears her throat, contemplating whether or not it's the right time to tell you. she decides for it, thinking that you deserve to know. "your dad - he, um...he didn't make it. i'm sorry."

you feel bile running up your throat, turning towards her with a blank expression. she immediately goes in to comfort you, rubbing her hand down your back but you push her away, standing up.

"don't touch me." you spit, and her eyebrows furrow. you begin to walk away, not even knowing where but all you know is that you want to get away from here. you clutch onto your stomach as you walk, heavy breaths coming out of your mouth from the discomfort.

"you shouldn't be walking," she yells after you, trying to grab your arm. "please, just, sit down."

"oh, now you care about me?" you flip back around, anger in your eyes. "fuck you, lottie."

"listen - i know you're grieving, but you don't have to be an asshole about it." she immediately knows she said the wrong thing, but she's too upset to care. "stop being so stubborn and sit down. you're gonna make your injury worse."

you scoff and continue walking into the unknown woods, lottie following right behind you. every step you take, you can feel blood gush out, and you collapse onto your knees when you feel a sharp pain in your abdomen.

lottie rushes up to you, leaning you against a tree stump to help you. your shirt is soaked with blood. she's gonna need misty to rebandage you. she starts to get worried as you mumble incoherently, head leaning back as you stare up into the night sky.

"why did you break up with me?" you suddenly ask. her mouth gapes open as you look at her with dazed eyes. "you never told me why."

she scoffs, shaking her head as she helps you up again. she puts your arm around her shoulder as she slowly walks with you back to the camp.

"i could die from this, you know." you mumble, egging her on a bit. "you're just gonna let me die without knowing why?"

lottie rolls her eyes at your attempt at humor, huffing out before admitting why. "it was my parent's idea. they thought i wasn't focused enough on nationals and said i should break up with you. i didn't want to but you know me and my mommy issues."

"so, i tried to ignore you and push down my feelings but it just made it worse. i was gonna talk to you about it before we left at the airport, but you wanted nothing to do with me." she continues, glancing at you.

you slow down, signaling for lottie to stop walking. "i thought you were ignoring me. i thought you hated my guts."

"i could never hate you," she tentatively brings a hand up to your shoulder, which travels to cup your cheek. "i love you. always. i should've just talked to you about it instead of running away."

"that's right, you big idiot." you pull her in for a kiss, a kiss that you've missed for those oh, so lonesome 7 days. she sighs into your mouth, tangling her hands in your hair to bring you in deeper. you groan as pain stabs you in the stomach again, resting your head against her shoulder as she starts walking again.

"you owe me a lot of make up kisses, by the way."

lottie taglist: @nebuloustraveller @ethvrealz @jadeisnothere5

#.myworks #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews thoughts 💭

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ghostofhyuck · 3 days

Text

Gang AU Series 6

Gang leader! Zhong Chenle x Gang member’s younger sister! Reader

Summary: "Why can't you resent me?"

cw: mentions of death, and blood.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Yn Lee.”

You turned around and saw him. You freezed, hands tight on the hem of your apron. You knew him and how you two are the same-age. But the way he’s all roughed-up with his leather jacket in contrast to your plain sweater and apron, shows how your lives are different from each other.

“You know me,” you mumbled.

“You’re Mark Lee’s only sister,” he answered. “I’m Zhong Chenle.”

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to look calm, knowing that you two are in a public place.

“Can I have a spare of your time?” he asked. “I need to talk to you about your brother.”

You only pursed your lips, it’s been a week since your brother’s burial and as much as you want to cope with his death, the ghost of his past keeps on haunting you.

And that ghost is none other than Zhong Chenle.

“Is it important?” you asked, looking around the place. “It’s a busy hour for us —”

“Don’t worry about it yn,” your manager interrupted. “He already asked for my permission, go on.”

That’s how you found yourself at a table in front of Zhong Chenle. You watched as he took a sip of the iced coffee that he ordered, glancing at the window beside as if he’s admiring the view of the outside.

“Before Mark-hyung died, he asked if we could look after you,” Chenle started. “And I promised him that. That’s why I’m telling you this right now, moved in with —”

“What are you talking about!?” you asked, confused.

“Mark-hyung wanted you to leave that shitty place of your aunts’ house,” he explained. “He’s much more comfortable if you stay with us.”

“And how can I be so sure that you’re not fooling me?”

Chenle became quiet. A scene played in his mind.

Blood. Lots of blood. Lots of Mark’s blood. Mark smiles at him, who's crying hopelessly, trying to keep his friend alive by holding him tightly. Mark continued to talk, stuttering at his own words in an attempt to make out of your name.

“Get her out of that place, please…” Mark whispers at Chenle, who could only nod. And as if it was the answer that he needs, Mark closes his eyes slowly.

“It’s a promise before he joined the gang,” Chenle lied. “We look for each other’s family, especially when someone dies.”

You stared at him. He seems more distant than what you assumed, as if he was hiding something from you. But you tried to look on the other side. He wants you to leave your aunts’ place. Something that you and your brother have been dying to do.

It was the reason why your brother even joined the gang. Both of you were orphaned at a young age. Your parents died due to a car accident, leaving you two under the care of your aunt and her husband.

It was a living hell. They would tell you everyday that both you siblings should be grateful that she took you in or else you two will end up in an orphanage. She treats you like a maid and for years, you and your brother endured it. They were greedy for money too, they couldn’t even spare money on you two, saying that you two should be grateful that you have a place to live. At a young age, you are forced to find part-time jobs so that you have money for yourself.

So did Mark. When your brother turned nineteen, he ended up joining a gang. It was dangerous, but it gave him a huge sum of money enough to buy both your needs. But in return, he would go home wounded and blooded. You hold your tears, as you mend your brother’s wounds. Trying to convince him to stop it and just live a normal life.

“Soon, just a little bit more, we’ll get there. We can now move out of this shitty place and have a place of our own, you can study at one of the best universities here in Korea without worrying about the expenses.” he told you, smiling. You have your lips tight, trying your best to trust your brother.

But a few weeks later, Mark died. Your world crumbled when you received the news that your brother died in a gang fight. It was said that he was just an innocent passerby who happened to witness the illegal activities, that’s why he got involved. But you knew that he wasn’t as innocent as they tried to paint him. Whoever decided to change the statement, must be trying to protect Mark too.

And you wonder if it was Chenle’s doings. You glanced at him, and he was nothing but staring at you. You let out a sigh.

“How can I be sure that I should trust you?” you asked.

“Don’t trust me,” Chenle answered quickly. “I’m just fulfilling what Mark-hyung wanted. It’s just a temporary stay, soon, you can stay at the apartment flat Mark wanted to buy.”

“Okay,” you let out a sigh. “I’ll come with you.”

It was a risk. But it was better than staying in your aunts’ place. You knew the gang your brother joined. Mark keeps talking about them whenever you mend his wounds. He seems to love his gang, even considering them as friends. If Mark trusts them enough to look after you, then you’re convinced that there’s nothing for you to worry about.

“Alright,” Chenle muttered. “Here’s my phone number, just contact me when we pick you up.” He leaves a card in front of you, and before you could mutter a word, he bids his goodbye to you and leaves.

You stared at the paper. There’s not much to see except his name and number. That’s how discreet Chenle was, and now, you were even more curious about the gang your brother joined.

As expected, your aunt was more happy for you to leave their place. She didn’t have an ounce of care about you and kept on insisting that it was time for you to be mature and live on your own.

“Maybe even try to follow your brother’s footsteps, how about that?” she taunted. You froze for a second, but as much as you wanted to stop and slap the hell out of her, you couldn’t do anything but to continue packing your things. You tried to brush it off. At least you’re leaving the place. You’re free now and you’re on your own now.

It took a while before Chenle arrived. A slick black car stops in front of you and from the driver’s seat, Chenle exits. He helped you load your things on the trunk, and even opened the passenger seat for you. You glanced at the apartment building, not noticing that Chenle had entered the car.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, you glanced at him and shook your head as answer.

“Did your aunt say something?”

You became quiet, wondering how he was able to read your mind.

“Mark-hyung talks about her all the time,” he answered, “That’s for another time, let’s go.”

The drive to their place was quiet. You only stared at the view from the window. Chenle was a skilled driver, but he didn’t say a thing to you during the duration of the drive. You found it weird, he was far different from your brother’s stories.

You knew them and their personality. You know that they’re just lost kids like your brother, trying to fight their way to survive the harsh world. The gang was small, but it’s enough. Chenle was their leader due to the fact that he founded and funded the gang, he did it in order to rebel against his parents. But slowly, Chenle realised that this is the family that he’s been yearning for.

That’s why he was so protective of not only his members, but their member’s families too.

Your thoughts started to trail off when you found Chenle turning right to a secluded road. It was down a narrow alley that seemed abandoned, barely visible from the highway you two just drove through.

From the outskirts, you found yourself in a more hidden alley, filled with abandoned buildings and ruined roads. Chenle parks the car outside of a decent-looking building. And as you glanced at him, he only gave you a go signal to leave the car.

“It looks abandoned but that’s the purpose of it,” Chenle commented. Grabbing your bag, not even letting you touch it. “Come on.” you only followed him quietly, entering the building. It was dimmed with lights, the walls weren't painted with any colours, and you felt its eerie presence as Chenle's footsteps echoed through the empty hallways.

As you two reached the second floor, Chenle stopped in front of the only door in there. He types on the passcode and enters. “We’re here!” He shouts, and you only follow suit.

You stepped backward when you were greeted by a bunch of boys — and girls. You were surprised, given that your brother didn’t mention any girls in the gang.

“Like I told you, we protect each other’s families,” Chenle said. You only nod, as they introduce themselves one by one. Only a few of them are the member’s sisters, mostly their girlfriends. You gave them a warm smile, trying your best to be acquainted with them.

“Jaemin-hyung, bring yn to her room, I’ve got to do something,” Chenle ordered, disrupting the talk.

“Uhm, sure…where are you going?” Jaemin asked.

“Meeting someone,” he said casually before leaving the place without any words to you.

You stood there frozen, clueless as to what to do when Jaemin tapped your shoulder.

“You’ll get used to it, that’s just how Chenle is,” the older one assured you.

You tried to brush it off. That’s just Chenle’s personality. They say. It was weird given how your brother talks about him like a younger brother.

“He may be younger than me but he’s smart, also calculated. But he still has a childish side of him. If you met him, you'd definitely like his smile.”

Two weeks into your stay and you never saw Chenle smile. He seems reserved, as if he’s trying to hide something from you. You became curious, especially when the rest ignored it. Was your brother’s stories a lie? You wanted to approach him, and talk to him about your stay. You feel agitated, doing nothing and spending most of your time on your part-time job. But he seems busy, doing something, and completely shutting himself from the world. He couldn’t even look you in the eye.

You wonder if it was because of your brother, and yet, as much as you want to find the answer, you couldn’t find it especially when Chenle’s been avoiding you.

It’s not like you want to leave the place, living with your brother’s former gang was much better than staying in your aunt's place. They were welcoming and still acted like a bunch of teenagers. They seem like a close-knitted family, and now you understand why your brother thinks highly about them. But of course, he mentioned that this is just a temporary stay, so you were also half-eager to not stay any longer.

“We don’t know either,” Jeno answered when you opened up your concern. “It’s best for you to corner him.”

That was the only answer that you got. You only nodded and didn’t push them furthermore. Jeno noticed the way your expression faltered, he only smiles as he gently ruffles your hair.

“He’ll be back here around two am, if you really want to talk to him.”

So you stayed up late. You’re used to it. Back then, you would wait for your brother’s return. It comforts you that he would go home late but alive. It assured you that he’s fine.

Just like what Jeno had mentioned, it was almost two in the morning when the door opened. You stood up from your seat. You heard Chenle’s harsh breathing, as if he was struggling. You immediately went to him, surprising both of you.

Your eyes widened to see him ruined. Open cuts and wounds in his face, blood-stained shirt and jacket, he was limping too.

“Why are you still awake?” he asked, struggling to finish his sentence.

“I was waiting for you,” you said, making him quiet. “You should sit, let me tend your wounds —“

“No thanks, I can manage —“

“Please,” you pleaded. “I do this to Mark too, I know what I am doing.”

As if the magic word was your brother’s name that he agreed to. You helped him sit on the sofa, while you left to find the first aid kit found in the bathroom. Minutes later, you returned and began mending his wounds. You noticed how he’s looking sideways, not even batting an eye at you.

“I was going to ask,” you started. “Until when can I stay here?”

“Why?”

“I just don’t want to burden everyone,” you timidly said.

“You’re not a burden,” Chenle answers.

“Really? Then why can’t you even look me in the eyes?” you asked.

Chenle didn’t answer. He couldn’t help but remember Mark’s funeral — where you two first met.

It was at a decent funeral parlour. The six of them went there together, and from the outside, Chenle noticed that there’s only a few visitors. You were Mark’s main mourner. Only sitting at the corner, holding the frame of your dead brother. Your head lay low, not even noticing their arrival. They all stood there quietly, trying to sink into their mind that Mark is dead.

In the midst of the ceremony, Chenle’s eyes never left yours. He can see the resemblance of Mark to you, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Yet he was intrigued at your calm demeanour. When it was time for them to bid goodbye, you personally sent them away, bowing at them as a sign of gratitude, and as you come face to face with Chenle, he couldn’t help but noticed the dead look in your eyes, and yet you seem to not shed a single tear for your brother.

He doesn’t know what to feel about you. Intrigued? Curious? Guilty? All he knows is that he killed the only family member that you had. And as much as he tries to help you, he knows that he couldn’t do anything about Mark’s death.

“Why can’t you resent me?” he asked. You stopped your tracks, looking at him. Chenle was devastated. He was wondering why you didn’t even try to push them away, scream or even call the police at them.

But you only let out a small chuckle, “I don’t know, why would I?”

“I killed your brother,” he confessed.

“You didn’t Chenle, I know the truth,” you told him. “You weren’t able to save him, that’s all.”

“See!? I was useless! How can you still mend my wounds after what I did!?”

You let out a sigh, “How can I resent the people who my brother considered as family?”

Silence. Chenle wasn’t able to say anything. You only gave him a bitter smile as you grabbed another alcohol pad and gently tapped it on his cheeks. That’s when he noticed how your eyes felt hollow, as if you’re dead inside.

“My brother talks about you all the time, you’re like his younger brother,” you answered. “He thinks highly of you. He respects you, so how can I resent the person my brother loves?”

“Why should I blame you for my brother’s death? When it was my fault that he joined the gang in the first place —“ and tears began to flow. Your hands drop as you hold onto the pad tightly. You couldn’t help but to sob, remembering that all your brother’s doing was for you.

All Mark wanted was for you to live a comfortable life, away from the shithole of your aunts’ house. And the only thing he can do as quickly as possible is join an underground gang. An easy access for money, but a risk.

As much as you tried to stop him, it was useless. In the end, Mark was gone, and you don’t know if you can survive in this world alone. You felt helpless, that’s when you realised that you’ve also been dependent on Mark throughout your life.

Your tears wouldn’t stop even when Chenle pulled you closer to his arms, you couldn’t help but cry louder. After weeks of being alone, this was the first time you found comfort.

“It’s not your fault,” Chenle muttered. “We never wanted this to happen,” he told you.

And he was right. No one wants this, and the only thing that you two can do is assure each other. Both lost someone who’s very important to each other. Blaming and living with guilt was useless.

Chenle thinks that it’s useless for him to let the guilt swallow him. He only lets out a deep sigh as he pulls you even closer to him. He was determined to never let you cry again.

“I’m here, I’m not going to let you be alone again,” he swore to you.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct x reader #nct dream imagine #nct chenle #nct chenle fic #chenle fic #chenle imagines #zhong chenle #nct dream chenle fic #chenle x reader #nct dream chenle

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sleepingontheclouds · 23 hours

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I’ve been getting more and more attached to Jason’s character so please indulge me. I will be having to section these off cause I’m gonna be talking about two pieces of media </3

Titans

I’m watching season three of Titans right now and, it’s a wonder. There’s a few aspects that bother me but overall I’m in love so far.

The season makes a bold choice by literally opening on Jason- a hero- doing drugs. Sure in season two it mentions Hank doing drugs because of Hawk and it does show him in the act of snorting a substance, but the difference is, he’s an adult. Hank is a thirty something year old man who has probably most likely killed people, Jason isn’t.

Yes, Jason is violent. Yes, he did assault police officers, but he never killed anyone. Jason may legally be an adult but he still acts like a teenager because he is one. He’s a traumatized teen having to deal with the fact that he’s repressing so much from everyone he loves. He never gets an outlet to discuss what’s happened to him with people he trusts.

A great example of this is when he’s about to jump off the the Titans tower in season two. He tries talking to Dick, he says how he feels and he try’s expressing himself, he tries so hard to get his brother figure to understand what he’s going through. What does Dick do? He flips it around and unintentionally makes it about himself.

The closest we get to him actually opening up is when he starts trusting Rose, telling her about his upbringing and starting to get comfortable with her, comfortable loving her. Then she reveals that she only met him because she was trying to manipulate him.

The impact of him turning to drugs hits so much harder. He’s just scared, he turns to anything he can to help. It’s so much deeper when it’s shown that the drug he takes isn’t heroine or coke or anything like that. It’s a drug that stops fear.

He literally felt so weak that he took drugs to repress his emotions to the point where he felt nothing, he felt nothing and thought he was better because of it. There’s no doubt that at this point in the story he’s addicted. Jason started using before he died and the madman who gave him the drugs started using them to manipulate him. I’m really interested in where the story is gonna go with it, I really hope it actually dives into withdrawal and how Jason would cope with everything going on around him without the help of drugs.

Comics/Animation

Overall with every piece of media I see regarding Jason and the batfam, it never really manages to depict Bruce and Jason’s relationship accurately, one of the good ones was that single episode of Titans. (in my opinion).

Me personally, I see Bruce and Jason’s relationship in a very complicated light.

When he first gets adopted, Jason views Bruce as a nurturing figure. He sees him like every child sees their parents, perfect. It’s like he can do no wrong. He’s Batman! And he made Jason Robin! It’s a perfect opportunity, he was being helped, he finally had a dad, one that loved him.

Before Jason died, he still very much idolized Bruce but not to the point of thinking he was perfect. He knew Bruce wasn’t perfect, he just couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. Jason couldn’t face the fact that Batman didn’t need a Robin, he didn’t accept that he could still be Bruce’s son without being Robin.

After he died and came back, there was resentment. He hated Bruce, despised him with every fiber of his being. Depending on what canon you’re watching/reading, there’s different reasons for why. Either Jason is mad that Bruce took Robin away from him before he died, effectively taking away his only coping mechanism, therefore resulting in his death. Or, he hates Bruce for not killing Joker. His father didn’t avenge him, he could care less about Batman having an obligation to avenge Robin as his sidekick—fuck Robin. He cares that Bruce, as a father, didn’t kill the Joker to avenge his son. He let his sons killer roam free, putting the psycho in Arkham won’t do anything. Or or, he holds resentment that Bruce couldn’t save him. He couldn’t save his sidekick, his son, his Robin. He failed.

No matter what happens between the duo, Jason always holds self loathing in his heart because of Bruce.

Across all forms of media, he always develops the thought that Bruce hates him. He always thinks that he’s the ‘least favorite/most hated child’ even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Bruce loves him, Jason is undoubtedly the favorite child.

(Sneaking a Titans reference in here—) The fact of Bruce caring for Jason more than his other children, (cough cough DICK) is solidified when he takes the Robin mantle away from Jason. He’s trying to protect his son in a way he thinks is best. He saw and heard what being Robin did to Dick, he doesn’t want to put Jason through that. Even the line where Bruce says “I don’t want to make the same mistakes.” Jason perceives it as Bruce calling him a mistake. He lashes out and gets angry because he thinks that he’s being called a mistake. It’s not true, the sentence itself with the context of the episode and the episode before show that it’s not true. Bruce is calling Dick his mistake, not Jason.

Throughout everything, Jason sees anything negative that Bruce says or does as a direct attack on him, when he’s the only one Bruce actually tried to parent. Dick was treated like a weapon. Jason, as a child.

#jason todd #dc robin #bruce and jason #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #batfam #jason and bruce #daddy issues #dc comics #dc titans #titans 2018 #so much violence #tw drugs #drug usage

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hazbin-fanfiction · 1 day

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Death Days

Huskerdust

TLDR; Sinners bodies go through the pain of their death every year, on the day they died. And today is Husk’s turn on a pain mobile. Husk was never one to openly give up information about himself, not unless forced to by Alastor. So, even as the hotel’s guests and patrons became closer, Husk was still fairly unknown to those other then Angel, and his boss. Speaking of the spider, he was lounging across his bar and complaining of the shoots he had to do last night. “And then this fuckin guy, right? I swear to satan hes never had sex before in his li-” “You got the day off today?” Husk cut off the man before he got a little too vulgar for his tastes. Angel blinked at him a moment, before a grin pulled at his lips.

“Yeah, why? Want a free show~?” “Im not one to ask this, but. Can you just… stay?” Husk looked at the glass he was cleaning. His yellowed eyes refusing to look into the arachnids own.

Husk hated to ask for another’s help, but if Angel could ask for his, then he could do the same. He could already feel the way his body began to crumble around him, leaving first his hands to shake and be weakened. The sensations would spread across his body throughout the day, until night fell. “Like. At the hotel?” Angel asked, sipping at the strawberry martini he always drank. “With me.” Husk clarified, “Its… today.”

His voice was grumbled under his breath, face heating up in its embarrassment as he kept his gaze off Angels. You see, it was Husk’s death day today, March 19th. Death days were one of the many punishments of a sinners afterlife. Where ones body relives the pain of its death. For some, it was a meaningless, 5 minute sharp pain in the chest, others it was reliving the worst torture one could imagine. And Husk? Husk was considerably lucky in this department. For he died in his sleep. He felt nothing, except the crippling loneliness, and his body’s pain of aging. It wa selfish, really. Asking anyone else to just throw away a day off to take care of an old man. But he didn't want to go through this alone again. “Today? Whats to- Oh.” Angel’s eyes widened as he realized what Husk was getting at, he reached a hand over to the bartender, and his face pulled into a soft smile. “Yeah, course I can Whiskers. Anything for you.” Husk looked at the hand held out to him, and smiled faintly as he took it in his own. ~~ And stay he did, helping Husk wherever he could. He even took over the bar when Husk’s hands started shaking to much to hold a liquor bottle, and helped him upstairs when the other struggled to walk due to hip pain. An arm thrown across his shoulders, and gentle touches all around. Which lead us to now, with Angel laying across Husk’s bed, the cat laying across him and cuddled into his warmth. “Ya know. I don’t let people just lay on top’a me that often.” he started to joke, looking down as Husk looked up. Angel smiled softly. Husk’s ears were tilted back, pupils blown out of his eyes as Angels multiple hands pet at his head and back. Low, loud purrs emitted from his chest, and Angel could feel its gentle waves on his stomach and chest. He tilted his head into Angel’s hand. “That mean im special?” Husk asked, his voice a bare mumble. He had been struggling to eloquently talk since 5pm rolled around. “To me you are.” Angel leaned forward, tapping his nose against the others. “Sap.” “Says the one who came up with an entire song and dance routine to cheer me up.” “I thought we weren’t gonna mention that… that again.” Husk muttered, his head going back to being buried in the soft fur that adored Angel’s chest. Angel laughed softly, “You said not to mention it to the others. Its just us here baby~” “Hmmm.” Angel kept his gaze on Husk. his hands focusing their scritches on Husk’s head and ears. Earning louder and louder purrs from the stoic man on top of him. He felt honored, really. Death days were something that a lot of sinners kept private. They were at their weakest points then, and it would be so easy to take advantage of them. The fact Husk not only trusted him, but ASKED for his help, sent Angel over the moon. Silently, he counted the mans breaths. Watching his back rise and fall in a slow, rhythmic pattern. As the purrs quieted down, Angel’s smile tightened. He knew Husk would be fine, logically. But seeing the man like this hurt him in ways that truly and deeply scared him. Husk’s breathing began to slow, and the man shifted uncomfortably on top of him. “Ssh… I got ya. Your okay. Your safe with me.” Angel said softly, running his hands through the others fur. Husk settled down, The gentle purrs that echoed in Angels ears started to get softer and softer.

Angel wrapped his arms firmly around the other, “I promise, your safe right now.” The words spoke in a whisper so soft that feathers would feel like rusted steel in comparison. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Husk’s breaths got so much weaker. His chest could barely rise on its own, the purring stopping completely. Angels own breath hitched, tears filling irrational eyes.

“I love you.” Angel squeezed Husk a little tighter, and the mans last breath brushed past Angel’s fur.

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #Not much but its a start #writing fanfiction as exposure therapy #cw: character death #Husk is fine though #hazbin hotel husk #angel dust x husk #angel dust #hazbin angel dust

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coolshadowtwins · 2 days

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LiuShen Fanficion Round Up! Lets Go!

This took way too long! These are hard to do on mobile. Thank you to everyone who gave recs! If anyone recommends any other LiuShen/BingLiuShen fics, I’ll add them to this later!

I might have missed some that people have recommended, so tell me if I did!

The clueless fairy and his knight by sailorstar165

Summary:

Yet another filler quest from the pesky System in his head leads Shen Qingqiu to a heavily damaged heavenly raiment that inconceivably now belongs to him.

This was impossible for two reasons.

One, Lunar Fairies are female only. So sayeth the "Great Master" Airplane Shooting Toward the Sky when he wrote the abomination that was PIDW, and last he'd checked, Shen Qingqiu was very much male.

Two, Shen Qingqiu is just some one-dimensional scum villain! He was a garbage person for the sake of villainy! He shouldn't have a tragic backstory and missing family and some fated role to play in this universe!

When the System lured him in with the promise of hidden lore, Shen Yuan wasn't signing up for this!

Cultivate: slow life on a monster infested mountain by NeonGhostCat

Summary:

When trying to transfer Shen Yuan from the real world to Proud Immortal Demon Way, the System runs into an error. The transfer is not complete.

Shen Yuan is dropped off at the foot of a mountain aware of two things: he's in the story, and the Shen Qingqiu of this world is not only aware but thinks he tried to possess his body — and he's PISSED. Shen Yuan tries to opt out and live a simple life on what locals tell him is a monster-infested mountain no one in their right mind would bother with.

Sounds like a great hiding spot!

(TL;DR: Stardew Scum Villain Valley Mountain.)

Reincarnation not desired, transmigration not required by Pegunicent

Summary:

Shen Yuan dies. Then he decides to finally get a life.

Star crossed wires by silversinnbees

Summary:

Shen Yuan’s family has been pestering him to get an android for months now. His health had recently taken a dip that landed him in the hospital for a bit and an ultimatum had been issued: either Shen Yuan goes into some kind of assisted living facility (which, no), or he purchases an android fitted out with caretaking programming to live with him. He had griped about it for the longest time, not liking either option given to him but he ultimately decided that an android in his living space was a better option than essentially living in a hospital.

Shen Yuan brings an android named Liu Qingge into his life to take care of him. He never could have expected that the android was capable of so much more than just caring.

Metagaming by esama

Summary:

[Self-Saving System Activated! You will be now returned to your original starting position.]

Shen Qingqiu dies and gets a second chance and decides to try a different approach. (Note: this does a many pairings, not just LiuShen!)

Meet Cute (these dorks) by Mayvn

Summary:

The instant he turned to dash into the fight, Liu Qingge froze as he saw Not Shen Qingqiu standing coolly over one unconscious thug, guqin in both hands and still in a pose that clearly showed he had, in fact, just bludgeoned someone with the end of his guqin. Not Shen Qingqiu smirked and tilted his head back cockily. --- LQG finds SY running away from a sticky situation and brings him back to Cang Qiong in hopes that he can keep the man from getting himself mugged. SY is just relieved he doesn’t have to pretend to be a girl anymore.

Blanket Forts and Rainy Days by NeonGhostCat

Summary:

Mere weeks after the Demon Invasion incident, Liu Qingge visits Qing Jing Peak to discover the disciples hard at work building a monstrosity of blankets and bamboo. Like the students, he becomes inexplicably drawn into Shen Qingqiu's orbit in spite of himself.

Or: How Shen Yuan causes chaos under the flimsy guise of education and Liu Qingge heroically tries to keep himself oblivious to the state of his own squishy heart.

the stages of [...] by tennssi

Summary:

Despite all efforts, Luo Binghe died before the abyss event, and the only thing that saved Shen Qingqiu from being transported back to his world were the points he painstakingly accumulated to prevent Binghe’s blackening.

Stuck in a state of mourning that he himself is unaware of, he finds an unexpected comfort from a certain Peak Lord, who despite everything, never left his side since.

Sharing is Caring by celardor

Summary:

“Liu Qingge! I told you not to drink the water!” Shen Qingqiu shouts. His thoughts are a panicked whirl- is it going to have the same effect that it did in the original story?

Liu Qingge just stares at him in shock.

Shen Qingqiu’s question is answered when he suddenly hears Liu Qingge’s voice. Liu Qingge isn’t speaking, though- his mouth never moves. No, Shen Qingiu is hearing Liu Qingge’s voice inside his head.

Liu Qingge’s voice says, “Holy shit. I can see his nipples.”

They both stare at each other in horror. At that moment, there’s a happy little ding and a System notification pops up in front of him.

[Congratulations! Bonus mission activated: Sharing is Caring!]

“Fuck,” Shen Qingqiu says, with feeling.

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

Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge accidentally trigger a wife plot that leads to them forming a telepathic connection.

(This one is a favorite of mine! I’ve re-read it multiple times, and it has an inprogress sequel.)

The Guardian Ghost and the Bookish Fairy by NeonGhostCat

Summary:

Liu Qingge survives his qi deviation… in the form of a ghost. Having nothing better to do and no desire to be exorcised, he follows after Shen Qingqiu and decides to haunt him for the hell of it.

It doesn't take him long to realize that not only is this not the Shen Qingqiu he knew, but there is more going on. And apparently Shang Qinghua is involved too? Ah! He understands now — they're immortal fairies given the mission to thwart a dark prophecy of the sect's collapse. Well. He can help with that. And how better than to protect the bookish fairy that's taken his old foe's place?

There are no ulterior motives. Why think such foolish things???

TL;DR: What happens if SY transmigrates just a little too late?

Story marked "Chooses Not To Warn" purely because LQG becomes a ghost in the first scene and I didn't want to agonize over whether that required a MCD warning or not. If it does to you, this is your heads up! No other archive warnings are necessary.

Moments by hummingbirdhum

Summary:

Liu Qingge never paid Shen Qingqiu attention unless he had to, before. But things are different now, and in a million little ways, this new Shen Qingqiu keeps managing to make him...feel things. Things he's not used to.

Basically SQQ keeps being attractive and adorable without realizing it and eventually it's going to build up to the point LQG has to do something about it.

Updates will be sporadic in length and in upload date. Starts pre-abyss.

every memory of you by beta_babelfish

Summary:

Before Shen Qingqiu can voice his agreement and his opinion that they are doing an excellent job of getting things done, a knock sounds at the door. The other Shen Qingqiu sighs heavily, and stands. “You ought to hide, I suppose,” he says. “That’ll be Yue Qingyuan.”

 “Oh? Is there some business with the sect?” Shen Qingqiu asks, immediately curious.

 “Oh, he’s here to clear my meridians, as usual,” Other-Him says nonchalantly.

 Shen Qingqiu blinks. He blinks again. “As usual?” he says after what feels like an eternity, voice sounding strange and an unsettled feeling churning in his gut. “What about Liu-shidi?”

 Other-Him looks at him blankly for a moment. “Who?”

Or, Shen Qingqiu is wifeplotted into an alternate timeline in which he did not save Liu Qingge.

Fowl Weather Friends by Koiichaser_lucorinth

Summary:

Shen Qingqiu had always felt a small disconnect from his wings, coming from a world that didn’t have them. Like the opposite of phantom-limb syndrome. Things that were a part of him, yet felt separate.

They were cool in concept, yet gave him no end of trouble.

Like old wounds, they ached and cramped in bad weather or exhaustion. As if the Original Goods had gotten them broken in places multiple times before healing away the physical signs as he cultivated.

Also, they were just annoying!

They required so much upkeep! Feathers constantly shed and had to grow in, which was itchy as hell. When they grew in, they did so with sheaths you had to scratch off as they emerged, but you couldn’t scratch too hard because OOPS, was that a blood feather? If it was, congrats on just breaking open what was basically a straw directly to a vein. Better pluck it all out from the root if you ever want it to stop bleeding! And then you had to heal the gaping hole the correct way, or the next pinfeather might not grow back correctly.

…Shen Qingqiu might not have devoted his patience.

If he were to be honest, he might have slipped up a little in regards to the care of his wings as of late.

I Wish You Were My Husband by Feynite

Summary:

AU based on The Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir (familiarity with that story's not required).

Wherein Shen Yuan transmigrates into a harem intrigues romance novel (gay edition), Yue Qingyuan really fucks up, Liu Qingge is not suitable for his job, and no one even remotely sees Luo Binghe coming. (Note: this is maybe a stretch of LiuShen? But I think it counts lol)

You Take Me By the Heart When You Take Me By the Hand by UnhookedStar

Summary:

Liu Qingge knows that as smart as he is, Shen Yuan is often startlingly oblivious to the implications of his actions. Liu Qingge has learned this the hard way after years of obsessing over countless overly familiar casual gestures. However, while Shen Yuan's sense of personal space has always been practically nonexistent, he's been even more sticky than usual lately. He keeps casually touching Liu Qingge; brushing his hair out of his face, randomly reaching out and patting his head, leaning in close to say something and never leaning away again. The other day, Shen Yuan had held his hand. In public.

Or, Liu Qingge has no idea why Shen Yuan has been acting so much more familiar with him lately, but all of this casual touching is starting to push at the limits of his self control.

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan just wants to know when his boyfriend is finally going to kiss him.

The Journey Home, The Hollow Victory by MonroeKnox

The journey back to Cang Qiong Mountain seemed longer than it’s ever been.

Unlike so many times before, peak lord Liu Qingge was returning victorious.

But, in his heart, there was nothing to celebrate.

Liu Qingge could not outrun his grief forever. Especially not when he has finally brought Shen Qingqiu home.

Misery by Calamity Butterfly

Summary:

"With shaking fingers, he traces the planes of what will be Shen Qingqiu’s face. He brushes dirt from the body’s hair, rearranges its arms so it looks more peaceful, wipes a smear of mud from its chest. The body doesn’t exactly look dead but isn’t currently breathing and doesn’t have the… seeming of life. Shang Qinghua insisted that Shen Qingqiu’s soul was not yet fully inside the body, but Liu Qingge is sure he can sense Shen Qingqiu’s presence in the clearing, if not in the body. He hopes Shen Qingqiu is able to be aware of and comforted by, at some level, the knowledge that his body is safe and being cared for by one who cares for him very deeply."

A very Not Ok Liu Qingge finds Shen Qingqiu's plant body before Shen Qingqiu wakes up. He tends and cares for it and keeps it safe.

Another Time, Another Place by Mayvn

Summary:

Another Luo Binghe suddenly appeared and Liu Qingge died trying to save Shen Qingqiu, only to find himself waking up in a strange room full of strange things.

 Losing his ‘apartment’? Cheating girlfriend kicking him to the curb for a rich ‘fuerdai’ after stealing all his money? What’s a ‘dogblood drama’? He doesn’t care about any of that! What happened to Shen Qingqiu?!

 ---

 Basically, LQG gets transmigrated into a dogblood drama, but just wants to cultivate and live happily with SY. If only these damn characters would get a hint and stop trying to drag him back into the plot! Meanwhile, after being forcefully repatriated, SY uses all his superpowers as an avid trashy web-novel reader to try to predict what will happen and protect LQG from all the shitty tropes while also dealing with the realization that there’s been cultivation in the modern world this whole time!

Not to mention the familiar-but-different faces popping up here and there…

rsvp me to world's end by beta_babelfish

Summary:

FUTURE Shen Qingqiu [FSQQ] 4130 HOURS FROM NOW opened a memo on board WELCOME TO HELL

FSQQ: OKAY. First things first if the term “peerless cucumber” means anything to you you’re in the right place. If it doesn’t then you’re gonna be banned immediately. thanks PAST Shen Qingqiu [PSQQ] 45 HOURS AGO responded to the memo PSQQ: what the hell is a peerless cucumber FSQQ banned PSQQ from responding to the memo FSQQ: what did i just FUCKING say!!!! FSQQ: anyway FSQQ: you know that shitty webcomic. Proud Immortal Demon's Game? about that game called SBURB that causes the end of the world and the creation of a new one with frogs or whatever. luo binghe is there, he rips apart paradox space and uses his fuckin insane powers to take over like three different universes and all that? FSQQ: you’re in it now FSQQ: have fun CURRENT Shen Qingqiu [CSQQ] RIGHT NOW responded to the memo CSQQ: WHAT THE FUCK

Or, the Scum Villain/Homestuck crossover that absolutely nobody asked for, but you're getting anyway

A Night on Cang Qiong Mountain by NeonGhostCat

Summary:

Shen Qingqiu frets over the upcoming Endless Abyss event. Wanting to figure out a way to give his little white sheep fond memories of his time at the sect to hold onto in the Abyss, he remembers Halloween, something he looked forward to each year in his previous life (even if it was only through game events). System steps in to offer him a Limited Time Event of his own.

These are stories based off of the same premise that can be read stand-alone if preferred. Technically you could read them in any order.

NSFW

We'll survive, you and I by rinsled05

Summary:

On the bed, back against Liu Qingge’s chest, Shen Yuan is grinding his ass against him, soft, breathless sounds slipping out of his mouth.

Liu Qingge's skin buzzes with need, and he wants to put his hands on Shen Yuan’s hips, feel them shift under his palms. Wants to hear Shen Yuan whimper as he matches Shen Yuan’s pace and rocks back. To suck and nip at Shen Yuan’s skin, leaving bruises in the shape of his mouth.

But he's too aware of Luo Binghe's presence on the other side of the bed, the curl of his arm around Shen Yuan’s waist. Liu Qingge can’t tell if Shen Yuan is awake, either, if he even realizes that the body spooned against him belongs to Liu Qingge. It’s entirely possible that he thinks it’s—

“Qingge,” Shen Yuan whines.

Oh.

 In which Liu Qingge fights to keep himself and Shen Yuan alive in a zombie apocalypse, knowing that Shen Yuan would have married Luo Binghe if not for, well, zombies. Liushen main, with hints of Bingqiu, Bingliu, and eventual Bingliushen.

the horns of a dilemma by lavenderandrue

Summary:

Shen Qingqiu doses himself with truth mushrooms on purpose and gets more than he bargained for.

returned tenfold by lavenderandrue

Summary:

“We were thinking perhaps a little game of sorts? An exchange of winnings and gifts?” Bristling immediately, Liu Qingge draws himself up ramrod straight. “I have no wish to play your games, demon,” he spits. Shen Qingqiu makes some kind of small noise behind his fan, perhaps a laugh or a sound of dismay, and Liu Qingge tries to ignore the way the tips of his ears heat up. “Actually, Shidi, it was this shixiong’s idea.” Shen Qingqiu uncrosses his legs and sits a little straighter on his throne, which is far more ornate than Luo Binghe’s. The solemn dignity is marred a little by the pile of cushions spilling out from underneath his robes and the bag of melon seeds resting on the arm. Liu Qingge’s chest aches faintly. This is fairly normal when he’s around Shen Qingqiu, so he ignores it.

Dual Cultivation by Acernor

Summary:

“Shizun said I made you feel so good,” Luo Binghe says, “that I could fuck you any time I wanted.”

Liu Qingge stops breathing for a second.

“What,” he blurts out.

Shen Qingqiu could tell he’d been into it?!

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #liushen #liu qingge #fic rec

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modelbus · 4 hours

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Sorry not sorry for ignoring all my requests to write this!! Yes this is ANOTHER cod song fic… As a warning I haven’t played the games and reality is what I make it <3

!! this gets VERY VERY VERY suggestive at the end, no devils tango actually happens though !! be warned !!

Pairing: Gn!Reader x Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

The smoke cloud billows out his mouth Like a freight train through a small town

Unlike Ghost, you don’t smoke. Even though you’re a soldier, you prefer not to cut your life short by smoking death sticks. Ghost, you’re fairly certain, couldn’t give less of a shit if he lives or dies.

You stopped trying to convince him not to smoke a while ago.

Although you have a general distaste for the smell of smoke, you have a general taste for Ghost, so any time he steps out to smoke you follow along like a shadow. The first few times he had ignored you. Then there was a time where he—very quietly—told you that you didn’t have to follow him, that he knew you didn’t like smoking. You, lovesick, stupid, head-over-boots for your lieutenant, kept going with him. You were rewarded with actual conversations.

Ghost exhales smoke, mask pushed up over his nose. “Stop lookin’ at my mouth.”

You laugh, turning your head away. “It’s a rare sight.”

“Not for you.”

He blows out more smoke, and you focus on the lighter he tossed you. An old one, rusted metal that heats up when the flame is on for too long. It’s got a charm to it that you love. Same as him, you once joked.

“You only expose your mouth when you’re putting it to use.” You tease, eyes darting up to gauge his reaction.

“I’d put it to use now, but you hate the taste of cigarettes. Stop teasing because I decide I don’t care.” Despite his threat, you can see his lips quirking up in the smallest hints of a smile.

“Sir yes sir.”

He snorts. “Tease.”

“You love it.”

They shake their heads saying “God help her” When I tell ‘em he’s my man

“Don’t know how you put up with him.” Soap laughs, arm slung casually over your shoulders. “You’re a saint for it.”

“Ghost?” You ask, although you already know Soap is referring to the lieutenant who is currently barking orders at some recruits.

Barking orders and running them into the ground, that is. It’s training course day, which means they get to suffer under Ghost’s command. Price called it “building character.” Soap had called it “cruel and inhumane punishment.”

“No, the other hardhead you’re datin’.” Soap squeezes you. “Yeah, Ghost.”

“He’s not a hardhead.” You protest. As if he heard you, Ghost’s head turns to look at you from across the field. His eyes narrow at Soap’s arm around you, but must ultimately deem it harmless.

“He just threatened me! And he ain’t a hardhead?”

“He didn’t even say anything, Soap, how—“

“With his eyes, stupid. Staring right daggers.”

“He was not.” You shove Soap away, laughing.

“He was! You’re just used to it! God help you, you’re clearly delusional already!”

“The only one who needs God’s help is you and the recruits.”

Soap shouts some curse at you as you walk away, but you give him the middle finger as you hurry off toward Ghost before he kills a recruit. Again.

God help you? Yeah right. You knew what you were doing. God needed to help those recruits.

His hand so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face

Calloused fingertips brush over your skin before he commits, cupping your cheek. Delicate, in the way he learned from handling guns and knives and explosives. Soft, in the way he learned from you.

“Pretty thing.” Simon murmurs, an accusation or a compliment. It doesn’t really matter which it is, anyway.

“Kiss me.” You whine playfully, although you know he won’t.

He loved staring at you almost as much as he loved you in his bed, both of which he has right now. You’ll get your kiss eventually, no doubts about that, but only after he gets his way. Greedy man, but you knew that the second you laid eyes on him.

“Patience is a virtue.” He warns, rubbing his thumb over your cheekbone. “Wait.”

“Wait for you to get tired of looking at me?”

The look he levels at you is unamused, and you shut your mouth quickly.

“Wait for me to memorize your face again. Gotta make sure I see it in my dreams.” He grins at you, subtle and cheeky, aware of the butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Damn him. Damn him and his too-smooth lines.

You close your eyes, giving in and waiting as you always do. There’s a high chance he made that line up, but there’s an equally high chance it’s the honest truth.

“Eyes open.” Simon orders, tapping your cheek until you open them to glare at him. “There’s my pretty eyes.”

“Am I a pretty thing or are my eyes?” You ask rhetorically. You’re saying the retort, but the only thing on your mind is an ongoing chant of ‘yours yours yours.’

“Yes.” Finally, he leans in and kisses you. “Stay.” He gets up, heading to the bathroom.

“Ass.” You groan, loud enough that you know he can hear it. His gruff laugh echoes back to you.

Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man No really I can

Simon, your Simon, mouths at your neck, occasionally biting as he sees fit. Tease. Nasty, horrible tease.

There’s still blood on his clothes from the mission, but he shed the soaked gloves the second he started touching you. Claimed your skin was too pristine to dirty up, too perfect.

Ironic, considering what a mess he’s making of you now.

“Please.” You gasp out, digging your hand into his hair. It doesn’t even deter him as he sucks a hickey that’ll be large enough to raise eyebrows.

“One day I’ll tie you up and teach you how to wait.” He practically growls, tone low enough to be one if you squint.

Low enough to send a whole new wave of heat through you. And it certainly doesn’t help that you’ve still got the memory of him tearing through enemies on the mission. Of him jerking his gun up to shoot a man through the heart, mere feet from him.

If it was a crime to be attracted to his danger, you were in for a lifetime.

“Please, Simon.” You draw out the plea, hoping he’ll stop being a leech to your neck and move lower.

“You can do better, love.”

He reaches around, untangling your hand from his hair to pin your wrists above you. His fingers dig into the intimate interiors of your wrists, not too hard, but certainly not soft.

The worst (or perhaps best) part about his threat to tie you up is that you’d let him. Unquestionably. Simon Riley was a man who could rip others apart with his bare hands, but he was also a man who you’d let take you apart and put you together a thousand fold.

You loved it every time he did, after all.

“I’ll be good?” You try. “I swear, Si. Please.”

He hovers there, body weight holding you down, pressed to the bed, as he considers. Finally, he exhales, and you know you’ve got what you want.

“Atta girl. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”

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