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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

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Just What I Need

Summary; Working in a coffee shop you meet all sorts of people, but one customer in particular is always friendly, a local Detective from the nearby precinct. When one night he orders through a delivery service rather than in store, you get more than a tip when you make the delivery.

Fandom; Nomis (Night Hunter) Movie, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x Female Reader (no race or size specified)

Trope: Coffee Shop Meet Cute

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Flirting, Masturbation (male), Oral Sex (female recieving), unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Snowstorms.

I do not operate a tag list but instead please pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, then you’ll get an alert every time i post a new story. My Masterlist got too long and tumblr ate it, so all my past stories can also be found on my AO3, link HERE

A/N: I am considering expanding this story, depending if people like it and want me to? Let me know! <3

Just What I Need

Running the steam through the coffee machine you wiped the nozzle and smiled, there were just fifteen minutes until closing and the coffee shop you worked at was all but abandoned. Just your manager in the back counting the cash takings, and you were getting ready to box up the remaining muffins and cookies for the homeless shelter volunteer to collect dead on closing time.

You didn’t mind working the late shift, in fact you preferred it over the early shift opening up at 7am. The 7am crowd were grumpy, rude and always in a rush. The 7pm customers were tired, quiet, and always thankful for whatever caffeinated delights you provided them with.

The bell over the door rang as it opened and you looked up over the cups that were stacked on top of the machine, smiling at you saw the weary familiar face coming towards you;

“Good Evening Detective” you smiled as the beast of a man stood at the counter. His face softened as he saw you, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.

“Hey… Sorry I’m in so late… you’re still open, right?”

You glanced at the clock;

“Another ten minutes. What can i get you?”

You watched as he cast his gaze up to the handwritten chalkboard menu’s above the counter;

“You got any Chilli left?”

“Sure, a couple of pots in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?”

He paused for a moment, as if trying to process the most technical question through his tired mind;

“No… yes… urghhh…” he took a deep breath; “Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. I’m so fuckin’ tired i think I’d burn my apartment down if i tried to use the stove”

“Sure thing” you said with a smile as you got to work.

You made small talk as you prepared his order, pulling out the sides and condiments that came with the Chilli meal;

“Hey, you want a free muffin?”

“I’m not really into sweet things this late at night… what flavours you got?”

“How about an Apple Cinnamon? It’ll last overnight and still be fresh enough for breakfast”

The Detective smiled and nodded, pulling his wallet out as you finished bagging his order and rang it through for him, paying before you handed the bag to him;

“Have a good evening Detective”

As he turned he smiled at you;

“Call me Walter”

Three days later and you were on the late shift again. Again it was quiet, just the soft sound of tyres driving through slushy snow outside the only noise since around 6pm as just a couple of customers nursed steaming mugs of coffee from their window seats. You saw the big silver truck pull up in the space outside the coffeeshop and smiled, there was only one customer that drove a truck that huge and if you were being honest with yourself you were developing quite a crush on the curly haired Detective.

The moment he walked through the door you were smiling at him;

“Detective” you greeted him happily

“Didn’t i say to call me Walter last time i was here?”

“I like Detective, has a nice authority ring to it” you said with a wink; “What can i get you tonight?”

He paused for a moment, and as you reached for a notepad to jot down his order you missed the slight eyebrow raise and smirk at what you’d said before he cleared his throat;

“What have you got that i can eat in my office without facing the wrath of my Lieutenant for making the department stink?” he said with a grin as he leaned on the counter.

“I got Mozzarella and Pesto Subs? Tuna Melt?”

“Tuna is a no. The case isn’t going well, no fish. Gimme two Mozzarella Subs, and the largest black coffee you do”

“Sure thing. I’ll put a fresh pot on and get those sub’s on the press”

As you started to prepare his order his phone rang, and you couldn’t help but to listen in;

“... i’ll be like five minutes, i ain’t eaten all day… yeah ok… i’ll grab a box…”

He hung up and nodded to the cakes;

“Can i get a dozen muffins to go too? Got some grunts that are jealous that i got to escape the paperwork…”

“Sure thing”

Loading a box you picked what you knew were the best flavours and the freshest bakes;

“You know, we’re on Uber Eats. As much as its nice to see a friendly face, we can deliver to the Precinct”

“I… I have no idea what that is…”

“Its a food delivery app. Here, give me your phone…”

He unlocked it and set it down and rested his elbows on the counter as he watched;

“You go to the app store and just download it. Put in your location and it’ll bring up nearby eateries and you can search for us. It has all the standard menu on. Save your card details or link it to paypal, and its super easy, it even keeps you updated when the order is being prepared or its out for delivery”

He smiled as you pushed the phone back to him, locking the screen and pushing it back into his tight jeans;

“That’s all well and good, but then i wouldn’t get a chance to see my favourite coffee shop girl now, would i?”

You leaned forward and grinned, keeping your voice low;

“Order between 6.45 and 7pm and i snag the deliveries and do them on my way home”

Walter pushed the key into the lock, opening the door to his apartment and groaning as his body ached from tiredness. He should be elated, they caught the killer, the evidence was logged and couldn’t be disputed… and yet he was tired to his core. He’d been at his desk for longer than he’d been home, and when the Lieutenant had finally ordered him to go him a little after 5pm, it had still taken him the better part of an hour to finish up and leave the building.

Shutting the door behind him he felt his stomach rumble. He didn’t even need to look in the fridge to know it was completely empty, devoid of anything even vaguely edible. Checking his phone he saw that it was a little after 6.30pm and a thought fired across his mind, a smile forming. Fifteen minutes later he’d added far more to his online basket than he ever would have done in store, but for the first time he was able to see exactly what the creations were whereas in the store it was just a big pile of weird looking cakes and bakes. By 6.50pm he’d entered his card details and completed the order, the little update screen stating delivery would be by 7.30pm, just enough time to grab a shower, after all if it was you that would deliver, he should probably shower for the first time in 72 hours having rushed out of the apartment three mornings in a row due to new leads in the case.

The shower was far too enjoyable to rush, and after he’d washed his hair he started on his body, soaping over his chest and stomach before he paid extra attention to his dick. The anticipation of just the possibility of seeing you had him hard in seconds, and resting his head back against the tiled wall he quickly worked his hand over himself. He got lost in the moment, his mind taking him to places it shouldn’t, imagining his hand was yours, thinking about that time he saw you wearing over the over the knee knit socks and a skirt, how your ass was the perfect roundness, how your lips would look stretched around his dick… he came with a groan, thick white ropes falling to the shower floor as every ounce of stress left his body, his body shuddering when he was finally spent.

He was halfway through drying himself when he heard a knock at the door to his apartment, he eyes going wide when he saw it was 7.20pm;

“Fuck!”

He’d gotten carried away in the shower, and now he had to quickly rush to wrap a towel around his waist as a second knock came just as he reached the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and seeing you standing on the doorstep shivering in your padded coat, holding two takeout bags;

“Hey! Come in, come in, Jeez its freezing out there…”

Stepping into the apartment you couldn’t help but to look him up and down, attempting to hide your reaction as you could clearly see the distinct outline of something rather large bulging against the fabric of the fluffy white towel;

“Hey D-d-detective… Y-y-yeah it’s d-d-dropping fast out t-t-there… radio s-s-said it was g-g-gonna be a wind chill of minus t-t-twenty nine by eight o’clock… what a n-n-night to have my b-b-bike, huh?” You carefully dropped the two bags onto his coffee table as you spoke.

“You cycled here? On that pedal bike that is always chained up outside the coffee shop?” he asked incredulously, immediately forgetting his current state of undress. Shutting the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest; “You’re gonna stay here until you’re warmed up, i’m gonna make you a hot coffee and to warm you up from the inside too...”

“I ain’t gonna complain to that” you mumbled, your face pressed to his chest as you suddenly melted against him, warming your cheek against his firm muscles before turning your head to warm the other one and he let out a little gasp as your cold hands pressed against his sides.

“I also said for you to call me Walter…” he said quietly.

Pulling your head back you smiled at him;

“Thank you, Walter. You’re the best… though you’re the first delivery i’ve made where i’ve been greeted by someone in just a towel”

“Sorry, let me go put some clothes on…”

You tighten your grip around his waist;

“I wasn’t complaining…”

There was no poignant pause, no longing gazes, his lips met with yours and the kiss was fierce and hungry. He was pushing your coat down your arms and you reluctantly released your hold from his waist to let it drop to the floor, your sweater following soon after. Your lips met again and he was lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hand rested on your ass beneath your skirt as he walked you through the apartment before dropping you on his bed.

He was pulling your boots off your feet as you scrambled up the bed, your hands reaching for your thigh high socks when he suddenly caught your hands in his;

“Leave those on…”

You paused and grinned, before his lips met yours again and he was on top of you, his hands sliding up your skirt and bunching it around your waist as he pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, before briefly lifting his head enough to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.

As he lowered his mouth to your core his gaze was intense, vivid blue shining through the dim light of his bedroom, his tongue pushing through your soaked petals and parting them as his beard brushed against your skin, heightening all of the sensations. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth, his tongue pushing into you and he started to fuck you with it whilst his bearded face tickled your clit. You were squealing and struggling to stay still, needing to anchor yourself on something as your hips bucked and your orgasm started to rapidly approach, your hands finding their way to his still wet hair and your fingers wrapping around the dark curls as he pressed a hand to your stomach to keep you still, growling at your taste on his tongue as he felt you shake as your orgasm took over.

When your body had finally stopped shaking Walter pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he sat back on his haunches, licking his lips where he could still taste you on them. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows you grinned at him, your gaze travelling down his thick chest to his stomach, and the trail of hair that led beneath the towel;

“You gonna show me what you’ve got under that towel, Detective?”

“You ready for what i’ve got under this towel darlin’?”

Pushing yourself up to sitting, your legs spread and bent either side of him, you hooked a finger into the towel and tugged, your eyes going wide when you saw his thick meaty cock standing hard and proud between his muscled thighs. Wrapping your hands around it you relished the feel of his silky skin as it moved over the hardness beneath, your mouth against his;

“I need you inside me”

“I… Fuck… this wasn’t planned… i haven’t got any protection…”

“I’m on birth control, I want to feel you bare…”

With a growl he surged forwards, capturing your lips with his own before he pushed you down onto the bed. Holding himself up on one hand he hooked your leg up over his hip, opening you like a winter blossom as he rubbed his dick through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your slick wetness. You whined at the teasing, the way his tip would brush against your hole only to move up to your clit;

“Walter, please… you promised to warm me up from the inside…”

He paused, a smirk on his face;

“You want me to get you a coffee? ‘Cos i can stop…”

“NO, i need your diiiiiiiiii….FUCK!” He’d pushed into you as you were mid sentence, the feeling of his meaty girth splitting your walls wide open overwhelming you and your eyes rolled back in their sockets; “OH MY GOD!”

“You like that Darlin? You feeling warmer now?”

“Please… please fuck me…”

He grinned and shifted his hips, grinding into you;

“Well, as you said please…”

You had been expecting him to pound you into the mattress, you had not been expecting for his technique to start off with sensual rolls of his hips, filling you tenderly and carefully whilst you got used to his size. It was almost overwhelming, completely surrounded as he caged you in with his massive arms, his chest pressed against your own as his hips worked utter magic. He pulled his legs wide apart, shifting to rest on your open hips and he got even deeper. Pressing kisses to your lips and neck he soon had you moaning and begging for release, every push and pull hitting just the right spots and you were almost embarrassingly wet from the arousal but it only added to the sensations.

You could feel yourself coming, the pleasure too much to hold back, and with a long low moan your body betrayed you and succumbed to the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your belly. Walter kept up the same speed of his thrusts but pushed a little harder, a little deeper with each one;

“Can feel you fluttering around me, you gonna cum for me? You look so fucking beautiful all fucked out and wanting, feel so fucking amazing…”

Just as your orgasm was at its peak he tensed and you could feel his cum flooding into you, the twitching of his dick as he filled you with his seed prolonging your high. When you had both finally finished you could feel his weight start to get heavier on top of you, before with a sudden and surprising act of nimble dexterity he rolled the pair of you over so you were laying atop of him, his softening dick slipping out and you felt the trickle of his seed flow out of you. With one massive hand he pulled the duvet across your bodies, and you snuggled up to his chest;

“That was the best tip ever” you giggled; “In fact definitely more than the tip”

At that moment you not only heard but felt his stomach growl, looking up and seeing him grin sheepishly as he spoke;

“I just want you to know this is not how i usually treat food deliveries… do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

Nodding you smiled;

“That'd be nice”

A while later you were cleaned up, Walter having given you one of his massive t-shirts to wear which came to the tops of your thighs. He’d grazed through half the contents of his order as you nibbled on a muffin, having eaten at the coffee shop during a very quiet last hour of your shift. You’d laughed and chatted as the pair of you had eaten on the comfort of Walters couch, before you’d suddenly stopped mid sentence;

“Shit, i left my bike in the lobby… will it be safe there until i go home?”

Walter smiled at you, his hand curling around your thigh;

“Have you heard that weather out there? I’d be surprised if you could even ride it home through three foot of snow…” he paused for a moment; “Stay the night…”

You went to object, decline politely but you caught yourself, why? Why shouldn’t you spend the night? Taking a deep breath you smiled;

“I’d love to”

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Part 2 >>>

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #henry cavill #walter marshall smut #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fanfic

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luminnara · 4 years ago

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Victor Zsasz x Reader NSFW | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey/DC

I don’t see nearly enough BOP!Zsasz appreciation here, so I’m determined to change that. Reader is fem, but if there’s interest I can definitely write stuff for male or nb! The reader also has a whole backstory because I’m way more into world and character building than I am reader inserts so this is practically a little OC fic lol

This is sort of set pre-Birds of Prey, don’t worry about it too much, it’s just fun

Warnings: Violence, Zsasz being Zsasz, reader is an assassin who unalives people, light smut

This is short because I’m testing the waters! If there’s interest, I’ll write a part 2!!

Requests are open!

When Roman announced that he was hiring a new girl, Victor was less than thrilled. He liked what they had going--Roman was the money and the brains, and Victor was the muscle, the devout follower, and the one who loved to spill blood. They didn’t need anybody else, especially not a new hitman, and especially not a girl.

You had grown up in Gotham City’s East End, a district that was infamous for harboring all sorts of crime. You knew every street, every dark alley, every burnt out shell of a once-great building. The East End was a far cry from Gotham’s nicer neighborhoods, with their shining skyscrapers and big fancy department stores, but what could you say? The East End was home. It was dark and gritty and dangerous, but you loved that about it.

Besides, it’s not like you could really go anywhere else.

You had developed quite a reputation for yourself over the past few years. Places like the East End have a tendency to breed criminals, and you were no exception--as soon as you left home, you followed right in your mother’s footsteps and became a gun for hire. Thanks to your family name, you had no trouble taking on the odd merc job here and there, working for mob bosses who didn’t mind the mess you tended to leave behind. Silent, sneaky kills weren’t really your thing, but you never really got into the whole...artistic thing that a lot of other killers did. You didn’t sit there and fuck around with the blood and guts, you just...weren’t very tidy. You were quick, but you weren’t clean. If somebody wanted their enemies taken out quietly, they knew not to even look in your direction, because you were not the girl for the job.

If somebody wanted to make a statement, though...

You were more than happy to crush some skulls and splatter some blood across the sidewalk for the right price.

Of course, so much killing got to be exhausting after a while, and even brutal assassins like yourself needed to relax every so often. So, that’s how you found yourself finishing up a job and heading back to your modest little apartment, hopping in the shower, and scrubbing all the blood and dirt off your skin as if you had just spent a long day at the office. It was all normal for you--the killing, the shady bosses, the weirdos you worked with--and you treated it the same way any of those prim and proper office people in Old Gotham treated their day jobs. It was a way to make ends meet, something to pay for groceries and take care of the bills...only, in your case, you were generally paid fully in cash, and sometimes that cash had some suspicious stains on it.

But hey, work was work, right?

That night, you headed to a club you had yet to check out. Done up in a little black dress and wearing some very expensive pearls you had nabbed off of a target a few months back, you took a cab and found yourself entering The Black Mask.

It was a nice spot, the booths and bar all packed with socialites and crime lords. Waitresses and shot girls flitted around, there was a band playing on the stage, and the atmosphere seemed to be cheerful. Honestly, it wasn’t what you had expected, given what you’d heard about its owner.

Roman Sionis was a businessman, as he liked to call himself, who had been steadily growing his empire. He practically owned the entire East End now, and word on the street was he was looking to expand further into the rest of Gotham. You had never met the man, but you had enough mutual connections that Roman knew exactly who you were the moment he spotted you at the bar.

“Zsasz, go get her,” he said, gesturing towards you with a gloved hand.

Zsasz followed his gaze and tilted his head slightly. “You got it, boss.”

You were minding your own business, ordering yourself a gin and tonic and elbowing drunk men out of your way as you carved a little spot for yourself at the bar. They were rambunctious, leaning towards you with wide grins and beady eyes that told you they were hoping to get lucky tonight.

As you were getting ready to throw another elbow, the men suddenly scattered, vanishing into the crowd as if something had scared them off. The bartender set your drink down in front of you, and just as you raised the glass to your lips, the scent of musky cologne filled your nose and you looked up to see none other than the notorious Victor Zsasz standing before you.

“Boss wants to talk with you.” He said simply, his voice rough and hoarse.

But you were too busy taking in his facial features to really listen to his words. His short hair was the lightest blonde you had ever seen, almost snowy in color, a stark contrast to the black stubble that covered his jaw. He was wearing a silky dress shirt the color of red wine, or dark blood, the kind that was thick and coagulated and dripped off of knives so beautifully.

As he stared right back at you, you saw the scars that cut into his face, straight, meticulously carved lines that you were sure he had given himself. After all, just as you did, Victor Zsasz had a reputation, and while you had never met him, you had heard plenty about the sadistic assassin who kept tally marks of all of his victims.

Part of you wondered just how many he had.

You took a sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his. “I only just got here. I haven’t even paid for my drink.”

“On the house, courtesy of Mr. Sionis.” Zsasz said, regarding you with heavily lidded eyes as he looked down at you.

Just as you knew of him, he knew of you. Even though he was pretty much locked in place with Roman now, Zsasz heard plenty about everyone else in the East End. You practically ran in the same circles, and he had to admit, he was a tiny bit curious about the lady assassin everyone was raving about. He almost admired the messiness of your kills, but he also thought that you were sloppy and too quick, never taking the time to truly appreciate what you were doing.

Now, as he glanced down at the swell of your tits as they practically spilled out of your dress, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you, or fuck you, or both.

“It’s rude to stare, Mr. Zsasz.” You teased as you caught him.

“It’s rude to keep the boss waiting.” He shot right back.

“Fine.” you sighed, pushing away from the bar. “Lead the way.”

He offered his hand and you took it, holding onto him gingerly. The crowd parted for Zsasz in a way that they never would for you, smoothly and easily, club patrons giving him polite, frightened nods as he pulled you past. His grip on your hand was tight and harsh, squeezing as if you might try to run, but in all honesty, you were marveling at how warm his skin was around yours. You didn’t hate the way he led you over to his employer, and you knew that he was being gentle, or at least his version of it.

When he brought you before Roman Sionis, he immediately let go of you, moving to stand next to his boss. Roman himself was sitting in a booth, sinking into the lavish red velvet upholstery as he held a drink in his gloved hand. He regarded you with a calm smile, immediately gesturing for you to take a set across from him.

So you did, and the rest was history.

Roman Sionis had heard of you, and when he realized that you lived in the East End, in his East End, he had to have you. He had to own you. So, he did what he always did with people, and he bought you. All you had to do was complete one little, simple job for him, and he would keep you around on a regular salary, giving you all the benefits of joining his tiny little family. You passed his test with flying colors, taking out your target faster than Roman could have hoped for, and the next thing you knew, you were spending your days lurking around Roman’s penthouse.

You stayed quiet and obedient, not wanting to give Roman any reason to get rid of you. It was a good, steady gig, one you didn’t want to pass up, but you could tell that Zsasz wasn’t pleased. He scowled at you, always waiting for you to trip, always ready to watch you fall. You got the feeling that he viewed you as an intruder, someone who was messing up his life even though you gave him more than enough space. He would raise his lip in a sneer whenever you passed, showing off gold teeth in a maddeningly handsome way that always had you hoping and praying that he wouldn’t notice the way your cheeks sometimes flushed. He never seemed to care, as he never made any other moves. Maybe he was under strict orders not to fuck with--or just plain fuck---you, or maybe he legitimately didn’t want to.

You didn’t know why you had started to care so much.

You didn’t know about the way he watched your ass when you walked away from him, or the lewd way he sometimes palmed himself right out in the open. You never heard his pants and moans as he got off to the thought of you wrapped around him, and you never got to hear your name rolling off his tongue as he spilled into his hand, hips rocking of their own accord.

Yeah, Zsasz was pretty much head over heels. He was fucked.

He didn’t know why he liked you so much. There was just something about you, something about the way you walked and talked that always made his cock hard. He had reached the point where you would enter a room, and his pants would grow tight. Did you even know? Could you possibly fathom the torture you were putting him through every single day in Roman’s penthouse? Zsasz wanted to grab you and bend you over something, anything, hike that cute little skirt up and just go to town on your cunt. He dreamed about it at night, he wanted it, he craved the taste of your pussy...

But he couldn’t have it.

Not yet.

He would wait. He could be patient. After all, Roman came first. Roman always came first. Zsasz needed to focus on keeping his boss calm and happy, and he couldn’t afford to get distracted, no matter how much he wanted to press you up against the windows and fuck you so that the entire East End could see who you belonged to.

No matter how badly he wanted it, Zsasz would wait.

#victor zsasz #victor zsasz x reader #zsasz x reader #bop zsasz #birds of prey zsasz #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey x reader #roman sionis #dceu #dc imagines

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marvelfansince08love · 4 years ago

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A Christmas Gift

Word Count: 4K

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader

Warning: Smut 18+ (a little filthy, you’ve been warned)

Enjoy my loves! Merry Christmas to you all, Mwah x

This is how I picture Cordelia’s dress later in the fic (may have gotten carried away so I’ll just go hide in a corner lmao)

Tagging a few of my loves💛 : @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @pearplate @r0an0ke @coconutlipss @minavenable @venablemayfairgoode @versonstar @veteranwerewolf95 @fandom-nsfw-things @saucy-sapphic @creepingwolfberry @nyx-aira @witchxaf @duchessfics @billiedeansbottom

A Christmas Gift

The smell of freshly baked cookies and coffee travels from the kitchen as you take in the Christmas morning. Smiling softly as you pass the living room, presents stacked high around the tree that stands tall in the corner of the room ready for a certain well behaved boy; who continues to sleep peacefully unaware that the big guy in red has been and gone. Wrapping your arms around yourself, your smile turns into a huge grin when you take in the scene before you. Ally stands by the coffee machine as she pours coffee into her mug humming quietly to the well known Christmas song that plays from the speaker, Cordelia sways softly to the beat of the joyous tune placing the cookies onto the plate at the kitchen table. Leaning against the doorframe you bask in the image before you, grinning ridiculously when you take in their red and white pyjamas that match your own. Oz had insisted that this year you all wore matching pyjamas on Christmas day and you were not to change out of them all day, Ally had put her foot down about that last part.

Cordelia notices your presence first, gazing over at you with her chocolate brown eyes so full of love as her lip twitches into a soft grin. You move away from the doorframe, tiptoeing quietly over to your blonde wife, pressing a kiss to her hair as you whisper into her ear, eyeing Ally who continues to tidy around the counter area still unaware of your presence with her back turned as the music blares from the speaker next to her.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” Cordelia leans into you, a soft smile appearing on her lips. Her gaze meets yours as you nod over to your brunette wife, winking playful at the blonde as her eyes sparkle with mischief. Moving away from the witch, you move quietly over to Ally wrapping your arms around her waist holding her flushed against you, feeling her tense for a brief moment before relaxing into your familiar embrace. Propping your chin onto her shoulder, you turn slightly to press a delicate kiss to her exposed neck.

“Merry Christmas, beautiful.” You whisper close to her ear. She turns in your arms holding onto your shoulders as she pecks your lips, smiling widely against your mouth.

“Merry Christmas, sleepyhead.” She teases, before turning back around and grabbing the freshly brewed coffee and the herbal tea, brushing past you playfully she places the tea in front of the blonde who sits at the kitchen table. She kisses the brunette in thanks, brown eyes locked onto brown for a moment a feeling of warm contentedness flows through the room as you watch the pair, your heart full at the sight. You are interrupted by the sound of loud thudding as smaller feet sprint down the stairs, making you share a knowing look with the two matching their grins. Oz sprints straight into the kitchen, his eyes bursting with excitement as his thick blonde hair sticks out in all directions, glasses slightly crooked perched on his nose.

“He’s been, he’s been!!” He exclaims, grinning from ear to ear. Ally moves forward first wrapping her arms around his shoulders, kissing the top of his blonde curls.

“Wanna see what he’s left you?” She mutters into his hair making the boy nod excitedly before sprinting off in the direction that matters most. You smile into your mug basking in the smell of coffee early in the morning, as Ally races after the boy. Cordelia glances over to you a mischievous glint within her brown eyes as she saunters over towards you, eyeing her form you watch on in apprehension. The blonde witch flushes herself up against your side as she takes your mug grimacing slightly at the strong coffee smell, placing it onto the counter next to her. Her lips brush along your cheek before resting close to your ear.

“I hope you enjoy your present, my love. I have to say it fits perfectly.” She purrs, before leaving a wet trail of kisses along your neck. Within a blink of an eye the blonde saunters off following the departed footsteps of your other wife and son. You gape for a moment, your brain trying to process her words as if you imagined them before shaking yourself out of your dirty thoughts and sprinting after your family.

‘God I love Christmas,’ You thought wistfully, coffee long forgotten.

***

You were never one for Christmas holidays, the idea of a big jolly fella in a red Santa suit delivering presents always seemed so ridiculous to you but as you sit curled up into the corner of the sofa with the comfortable weight of your excited son snuggled close to your side, you are thankful to have a new, more positive perspective on the day. With the wrapping paper now removed from the living room; per Ally’s request and presents neatly piled in the corner of the room, you all sit cozied up around the big TV, watching as the tall giant dressed in an elf’s costume runs around New York looking for his dad. Cordelia glances over to you from above Oz’s mob of blonde curls and winks smiling softly as she pulls Ally closer to her on her other side. The peaceful atmosphere is quickly ruined by the horrible sound of your cell phone, groaning as you gently remove the tired boy that is slumped against you, who automatically curls into Cordelia making your heart ache at the disruption. Grabbing the irritable phone from the table, you quickly answer the person who is intruding on your family time. Ready to give them a piece of your mind, you pause after hearing the sound of sobbing coming through the other end.

“Katie?” You ask, frowning at her heart wrenching sobs. You feel Ally and Cordelia’s gaze on you as you remove yourself from the living room, confusion evident within their matching brown eyes.

“Y/N, I- I’m so sorry f- for calling you. Oh my god why did I-i call you, it’s fine I can sort it,” Katie stutters between her sobs, scolding herself. Quickly moving into the hallway and away from tiny prying ears, you try to calm her.

“Katie, dear. I need you to breathe for me so you can tell me what’s wrong, okay?” You instruct softly, you jump slightly at the light touch on your shoulder. Turning to see a frowning Ally who eyes up the phone in your hand, she mouths ‘is she okay?’. You nod reassuring her, squeezing her hand before turning my attention back to my business partner. You hear her take a deep breath in before rushing out a very in depth story about how the business deal with Harrison and Co has fallen through and how she’s tried her best to regain their attention, even amending certain demands on the contract but with no such luck.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. I really tried to get them back on our side but..”

“They want to talk to me.” You state, knowing exactly where she was going with this phone call the moment you picked up the phone. Your eyes lock with Ally’s as you watch her bite her lip, her eyes full of understanding but you know by the slight dip of her brows that she’s disappointed. Sighing tiredly you continue your conversation with Katie.

“Are they there now?”

“Yes, they would like to discuss with you new terms. Again I’m really sorry Y/N.” She apologises, sounding like she is on the verge of tears again. You reassure her and tell her that you will be there within the hour. Ending the phone call makes you huff in frustration, the only thing helping you relax is the soft touch of your wife’s hands that cradle your face, her thumb stroking calming strokes against your cheekbones.

“Baby I’m really sorry-” Ally shushes you softly, pecking your lips in reassurance understanding the importance of this deal.

“You gotta do what you gotta do, baby. We’ll be here with some hot cocoa when you get back annnd my parents are excited to have Oz tonight,” She trails off suggestively, biting down on her lower lip with a quirked dark eyebrow. You match her grin, kissing her hard, appreciating her understanding nature. Wrapping your arm around her waist you pull her close and slowly make your way back into the living room, feeling your shoulders tense slightly when you see your two favourite blondes singing softly along with Jovie and Buddy. Cordelia glances over to you both noticing your tense posture and sadden eyes, due to her distraction from her duet with Oz the boy turns around curiously looking at you and Ally with his big brown eyes.

“You okay, Mama?” He asks, his innocent voice making you melt at his concern. Moving away from Ally you round the sofa and crotch in front of the boy.

“You remember that big business deal Mama and Aunt Katie were working on?” He nods along, remembering the many nights you and Katie would work rather late into the night, stacks of paper scattered around the kitchen table. “Well it seems the boys we were working with no longer want to and they are being a little greedy and wanting more… candy from us,”

“That’s very greedy Mama,” He adds, agreeing with your analogy. You grin softly and you see the soft glint in Cordelia and Ally’s eyes as they sit either side of him. Brushing his messy mop of hair from his eyes you continue.

“Yes, very greedy Ozzy. So, because the boys are being greedy, Mama needs to go and ask if the boys would like to play nice since it’s Christmas and all... I’m sorry Oz but I promise tomorrow I’ll pick you up from Grandma and Grandpa’s house and we can go down to Milton Hill and go sledging!” You promise watching as his eyes light with glee at the prospect. He sticks out his pinkie finger to you making you smile softly before proceeding to lock your larger pinkie with his sealing the deal.

“Deal Mama! Can we ask if Jackson can come?!” He asks, his voice becoming louder with the excitement. You nod vigorously basking in his excitement and slightly relieved that you have such an understanding family. Luckily this is the first and will definitely be the last time you miss out on Christmas for work - deal or not. Reaching up to place a kiss on the crown of his head, you move over to your blonde lover, conflict still evident in your eyes, she gently grips your clothing and pulls you closer, your nose brushing softly against hers as she presses a delicate kiss to your lips.

“Hurry up home, my love.” She whispers gently against your lips as you pull away, flustered by the intensity of her brown eyes as she eyes you lovingly. Clearing your throat you nod stumbling to your feet, as Oz giggles into Ally’s side at his blonde mothers mischief, you quickly press a gentle kiss to Ally’s temple on your way past, heading for your shared room to change.

Once changed and with more kisses given you head out into the cold quiet afternoon ready to get your deal finalised and sealed, determined to get back to your wives before nightfall. Stepping into the car you glance briefly through the gap of the living room curtain taking in your family who are still in their matching pyjamas, wanting nothing more than to be snuggled amongst them.

***

Stepping back through into your warm toasty home you sigh, finally relaxing. Placing the cold bottle of champagne onto the side table, you remove your coat and gloves shaking the small remanence of snow. Frowning at the quietness, you remove your boots and head for the living room taking the cold champagne bottle with you. You stop abruptly by the open door frame staring openly at your senator wife, who is currently lounged lazily over the single armchair, her legs hanging over the arm of the chair, her skin glowing a light orange from the burning fireplace beside her. A lovely shade of Christmas green lingerie on display for your eyes only, with a book in her hand she peeks over her page to take you in through hooded eyes before her eyes land on the loosely gripped bottle.

“They accepted?!” She asks, her voice laced with excitement placing her book onto the small table stand next to her. She slowly gets up from her position and saunters over to you agonizingly slow as you both drink each other in. Your eyes darken the closer she gets, seeing how well the bra fits her breasts making them look exceptional against her chest. The contrast between the green material and her skin are undeniably pleasing, her dark brown hair that frames perfectly around her face tying up the view in front of you perfectly. Licking your lips hungrily you finally find your voice and reply.

“They did, I thought we could celebrate.” You inform, tightening your hold around the neck of the bottle. She nods only half listening to you as she skims her fingers up your arm and towards your neck where she laces her fingers around your neck keeping a tight hold of you actively pulling you closer to her. Brushing her lips across yours, she allows her tongue to leave a wet trail against your dry lips warming them from the bitter cold outside, you gasp at the warm touch.

“Let me go and grab the champagne glasses, I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” She husks against your lips before sauntering away from you giving you a great view of her ass as she sways purposely. Fighting back a groan, you scan the room for any traces of your other wife knowing that the crafty witch wouldn’t be too far away from all the fun.

“Delia is sorting out your Christmas gift, Oz left with my parents about half an hour ago,” Ally answers my non-vocal question, watching as a knowing glint shines bright in her dark eyes. You squint at the innocent expression that she gives you, knowing there’s more to her words. She chuckles lowly while taking a hold of your hand, transferring the bottle into her other arm, holding the three glasses in her hand. Your eyes darken further as you watch the curve of her ass with every step she takes leading you up the stairs. Ally stops by your shared bedroom door turning to wink at you before letting go of your hand.

“Wait right here.” She demands, before sneaking into the bedroom shutting the door closed, leaving you no time to peek into the room that holds your Christmas gift. Not a moment later Ally comes back out, slightly breathless as you take in her blown dark pupils with a dirty grin she asks you the most important question.

“Are you ready for your Christmas present?” She entices, coming to stand behind you placing her one hand over your eyes as the other pushes open the door, guiding you into the room you bite your lip in anticipation as you await for the darkness to unfold from your eyes so you can take in your surprise. Soft hands disappear from your eyes allowing you to open them at Ally’s soft instruction.

Your eyes widen with lust as you take in the sight before you. Lying lazily on the bed with her back against the headboard, long blonde locks trail down over her covered breasts, is Cordelia. A short red bow tied teddy lingerie dress fits snugly around her body, the end brushing barely over the tops of her thighs as she grins straight at the pair of you, slowly bending both her knees spreading them apart given you a glimpse of her matching panties she beckons you forward with the crook of her finger.

“Merry Christmas, Baby. Why don’t you go and unwrap your present?” Ally drawls into your ear, tracing the shell of your ear with her tongue making you shiver on the spot. You answer by removing your work clothes as quick as possible watching as Cordelia bites her lip in amusement at your enthusiasm.

Now dressed down to only your underwear, you feel Cordelia’s heavy gaze drop to your breasts licking her lips hungrily. Before you advance forward you quickly turn and pull Ally flush against your body hearing her gasp at the sudden new position enjoying the feeling of your skin against hers, pressing a hard kiss to her lips you quickly pull back, eyeing her appreciatively.

“As long as I get to ravish both my presents tonight,” You comment, a roguish grin appearing on your face.

Ally giggles at your teasing demeanour before nodding biting her lip. Pressing a kiss to her neck, you turn back around and focus on your blonde wife. Keeping your eyes locked with hers you move forward slowly, taking her in from head to toe. Crawling onto your Queen sized bed you settle yourself in between her legs, placing your hands above either side of her head holding tight to the headboard. Bending down slightly you take her lips with your own in a delicate, slow kiss. Hearing her hum in satisfaction you deepened the kiss, bringing one hand down to grab hold of her breast, squeezing gently making her gasp. Her sudden gasp allows you to brush your tongue gently over hers, tangling them together as you continue to kiss sloppily. Pulling away slightly you look over your shoulder to see your brunette wife stalking around the bed, her eyes never leaving your entangled forms, you remove the hand that has found its place on Cordelia’s breast to entice her to join you. Her eyes brighten at the invitation, joining you both on the bed she lies on her side flushed against Cordelia as the blonde reaches over to capture the senators lips, the feeling of arousal settles low in your stomach at the sight beneath you.

You move away briefly while they continue to make out, straddling Cordelia’s hip you finger the loose bowtie that keeps her breast hidden. Gently pulling at the material you watch satisfied as the bow becomes undone in front of you, revealing the swell of her breasts and perky nipples. Cordelia gasps as the cold hits her exposed chest, pulling away from Ally in the process who eyes her wife's’ breasts. With a similar thought process, you and Ally dive straight for the blondes chest taking a nipple into your mouth each and sucking delicately at the sensitive nub. Cordelia moans loudly into the lightly dimmed room, her hands instantly finding their place on top of your heads, keeping you both close as you lick and suck at the aroused nub.

“Mmm, yes just like that.” She breathed, allowing her head to lean back against the headboard as she fidgets under you.

You both continue to tease at the blondes chest watching as her breathing becomes more erratic, your hand skims down the side of her toned body feeling the material against your fingertips before reaching soft skin under the teddy dress. Removing yourself from her waist you settle in between her legs, your stomach pressed against her core making her rock against you harshly needing some friction as her arousal builds. You latch back onto her nipple as Ally moves to suck gently on Cordelia’s neck, her thumb brushing over the sensitive nub. Removing your mouth from her breast, you slither south pushing the material up towards her breast exposing her stomach. Placing wet kisses along her stomach you move closer to her wet spot, already smelling her arousal. Hovering close against her most needed spot you brush your nose gently against the offensive material before moving to focus on her inner thigh, nibbling softly at the skin before reaching for the panties sliding them along her toned legs wanting rid of the pair. You groan at the sight before you as you take in her already glistening pussy as she whimpers.

“Baby, please. I need you.” She whines, before latching her lips onto Ally's, taking the brunette's bottom lip in between her teeth pulling a groan out of Ally. Satisfied with her pleads, you brush lightly over her slit with your tongue feeling her hips thrust upwards seeking firmer pressure.

Pressing your tongue harder against her wet pussy, you continue to pleasure her with firm strokes of your tongue, collecting her arousal before latching onto her clit. You feel a second pair of legs next to you begin to fidget as Ally waits patiently for your attention. Moving your mouth away briefly, you grasp at Ally’s ankle gaining the brunettes’ attention from Cordelia’s lips. She eyes you, her gaze slightly hazy from her pleasure.

“Lie next to Delia, baby. I told you I want to ravish both my presents tonight.” You husk, your words breathless as you eye her hungrily. Obediently, she lies comfortably next to Cordelia opening her legs slightly to allow you access. You moan at the dark wet patch against her green panties, tapping at her ankle she lifts her hips allowing you to remove her panties. Now settled, you reattach your mouth around Cordelia’s clit, as your thumb rubs firm circles over Ally’s clit watching as she withers above you. You continue to tease them with your mouth and fingers feeling them both thrust against you as they seek for more friction. Moving your thumb from Ally’s sensitive clit and your mouth from Delia’s you sit back leaning on your heels as you look down at the pair, bringing your fingers that are covered with Ally’s arousal to your lips making a show of wrapping your tongue that’s covered in Cordelia’s wet mess around your fingers watching as the pair follow your movements with their dark eyes. Placing your hands on top of Ally’s knees you gently pull her legs further apart before diving for her wet pussy, watching through hooded eyes as she throws her head back and arches her back at the touch. Cordelia whimpers at the site of her two loves, she goes to place her finger against her throbbing clit but you gently slap the hand away and take over her needs sliding your finger in between her lips, collecting her juices teasing her entrance before entering her as your tongue continues to twirl around Ally’s throbbing clit.

You feel your own pussy throb at the sight of your wives both coming undone by you, withering and pleading for release as you continue to pleasure them until they tighten around you feeling them clench and pulse around your tongue and fingers. Moans and groans grow louder the closer they reach their orgasm, glistening bodies coming undone before you. They both relax almost simultaneously as they allow their orgasm to wash over them. Your eyes sparkle with lust and love as you watch them catch their breaths, Cordelia’s lovely new red teddy dress crumbled and flimsy against her form. Placing one leg in between their open ones, you lean forward hovering over the pair as they look at you with hooded dark eyes.

“Champagne?” You ask, licking at your lips hunger still evident in your eyes. They match your gaze and grin. Before they answer you squeal loudly as you feel yourself be removed from above them, Ally wraps her arm around your waist swapping your position from above them to lying against the soft mattress, your wives faces above you as they remove the remaining pieces of their clothing.

“Drink can wait, we want to celebrate Christmas properly,” Ally's sultry voice sends shivers down your spine as you wiggle in anticipation.

“Well then, Merry Christmas to me,” You mutter to yourself, grinning from ear to ear feeling grateful for these two goddesses that brighten your life. Christmas may have been a ridiculous holiday in the past for you but it’s true meaning has since changed since meeting these two wonderful women and your sweet blonde boy who is the beautiful mix of them both. With no more words spoken you allow the pair to worship you into the early hour, enjoying their soft touches.

#cordelia goode x reader #ally mayfair richards x reader #Cordelia Goode x Ally Mayfair-Richards x reader #cordelia x ally x reader #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson #welcome to lauren's filthy mind past midnight #ahs imagine #christmas fic #christmas filth #smut

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years ago

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 06 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Bathing Boy Beauties

So, now we and Wei Wuxian get to see Lan Wangji with his shirt off. Eventually Lan Wangji will realize that his brother set this up, and will think of some way to get back at him, possibly by spending three years being stubborn in a cave or maybe by chopping an arm off of someone his brother cares about.

This is A+ Yibo fanservice but it's also a male-male version of a trope that's ubiquitous in c-drama, in which the male lead takes a bath and the female lead sees him. The purpose of the scene is almost always so a woman can look a man’s body over and decide, not to put too fine a point on it, whether she wants to fuck him.

Examples:

The Pillow Book - “Which part of Shen Ye is better than me?”

Women’s sexual agency is not often at the forefront in c-dramas, but the bathtub scenes are an acknowledgement of the female gaze, and of male objects of desire being subject to evaluation & approval.

Tientsin Mystic is a show with a lot of muscley swimming in it, In case you’re looking for your next Netflix show.

As a CGI artist I have to mention that water does not reflect or refract 100% of light. If you look at a naked dingle-having person in a bathtub full of clear water you will definitely be able to see their dingle. But C-drama water is magic and nothing is visible below the waterline, to the point that Bai Yu is modestly covering his thoracic surgery scar chest in Detective L while leaving his lower half uncovered.

Note: that caption isn’t fake; she is really saying this on her way out the door, after having a long chat with him in the bathroom. You can find the whole series on YouTube.

Seen in this context, The Untamed’s two bathing scenes are saying quite a lot. Wei Wuxian, being a boy, doesn’t display any female-encoded shyness or modesty, but he and his sword pause for a moment of admiration.

(more after the cut!)

16 years later, Lan Wangji will sit quietly in this pool and let Wei Wuxian examine his wet body thoroughly from multiple angles, in a more prolonged invocation of this C-drama mating ritual.

Carrying on - was Xiao Zhan supposed to kick his boot in the water like that? Because if not, he rolls with it like a champ.

Wei Wuxian starts trying to be direct with Lan Wangji, giving him the worst, most neg-filled compliment ever, bless his heart.

Then he says that there are benefits to being his friend, and starts taking off his clothes.

Wei Wuxian here takes his first step into the bold new world of respecting Lan Wangji’s boundaries, asking Lan Wangji to stay and saying he will keep his clothes on.

Lan Wangji actually does stay, so he's apparently not too angry with Wei Wuxian about the drinking. Wei Wuxian invites him to visit Lotus Pier sometime (see my gifset here), but the promise of lotus pods doesn’t impress him. Then Wei Wuxian tries to tell him that the Yunmeng chicks really knock me out, they leave the rest behind. This also doesn’t impress him.

You could read this macking-on-ladies talk as a sign that Wei Wuxian is oblivious to LWJ's feelings for him. But I read it as a bisexual boy being horny on main with a boy he likes, not understanding yet that some boys don’t share all of his turn-ons.

Lan Wangji is sort of mildly startled when Wei Wuxian disappears under the water. His eye makeup is good here, isn’t it?.

Ice Cave

They end up in an ice cave and both spend the rest of the episode showing how good they look with wet hair.

When the guqin starts attacking, Lan Wangji is only mildly perturbed about Wei Wuxian getting his shit rocked over and over.

Eventually he sends Bichen to protect his very bedraggled date. Lan Wangji’s sword is faster than the speed of a very slow sound wave.

Beauty's where you find it not just where you bump and grind it

Gusuship Down

I feel like there are a couple of things in this show that are so problematic the fandom has silently agreed to never discuss them. Well, I’m here to talk about this one:

There are rabbits in this ice cave and they are wearing headbands. HEADbands. On RABBits.

EXCELLENT FUCKING QUESTION, LAN WANGJI

*deep breath*

Are these rabbits lineal Lan descendants? Who makes the headbands? How do they stay on because “headband” here means “glowing cloud on forehead” without any actual band. When rabbit babies are born, how do they stay safe while they’re waiting for someone to make them baby-sized headbands? Do these rabbits adhere to the other 3499 Lan Clan principles or just the headband one? Is any ol' rabbit allowed to touch a rabbit’s headband or is it limited to parents and significant others and is that even relevant when presumably these bunnies are all fucking each other like...bunnies?

The characters are like “oh, the rabbits are wearing headbands; killer guqin problem solved.” And then they move right the fuck along with their lives and the rabbit headbands are never seen or discussed again and I just want a hit of whatever the author or creative team was smoking when they came up with this whole idea.

Headband Sharing

When Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji to hand over his headband, Lan Wangji understands his entire rabbit-based thought process without asking

Gen-X Joke Alert

Wei Wuxian is awfully impressed by this sword-recall trick, considering that he did it himself when they went to the lake.

I see you know your way around a sheath

Killer Guqin

When they approach the guqin I hope that the subtitles are mistranslated, because Wei Wuxian keeps promising not to touch it and then says he can't look at it without touching it. I'm not going to touch it, I just need to touch it.

Lan Wangji is going to teach Wei Wuxian some goddamn boundaries no matter how many times he has to make him fondle his sword.

Nothing suggestive here

Lan Wangji sits down to play the guqin and immediately goes off into the ether where there are seagull noises and plenty of fans. This is either a state of pure bliss, or he just really likes seagulls.

Did Lan Wangji just have a stealth orgasm?

Speaking of getting off, get your ass off of my desk

The Yin Iron

Lan Wangji does some spirit whispering, and suddenly the cave starts yelling at them. A bunch of clans are chanting in unison about a plan, which is the cultivator version of a battle cry.

Lancestor Lan Yi shows up. She is elegant and has a combination of sweetness and gravity that is similar to Lan Xichen’s. And none of Lan Qiren’s douchiness.

Search Party

Lan Qiren is worried and Lan Xichen is worried and they have sent people to look for the boys. It's really too bad nobody around here knows magic.

All these powerful cultivators search for missing people by running around outdoors yelling for them.

Yanli is excused from PE class because she’s not feeling well, so she sits on a rock in the woods instead of, you know, staying home in the first place. She gets bored sitting down and unwisely decides to walk two or three steps. Xuan Lu, seen here competing in a gymnastics event, gamely pretends she can’t climb a small rock.

Yanli falls into Jin Zixuan's arms and they gaze at each other for a long heterosexual moment.

No homosexual explanation possible

This means two things: 1. he isn't looking very hard for her brother if he's hanging out here catching wobbly girls 2. soulful longing looks from him ain't shit, because he's going to dump her in the next episode.

Lanny Granny

Lan Wangji intros himself to Lan Yi and does a full prostrate bow. Wei Wuxian does a standing bow since he's not a descendant, just a future in-law.

No I mean come on, HEADBANDS

Lan Gran explains the entire history of the yin iron. It's bad, it's full of resentful energy, no-one should use it. She’s going to dump it on a couple of 16 year old boys, one of whom has a woody for using resentful energy, because it’s destiny and her battery is about to run out.

Props to the Prop Department; this thing does look pretty cool

Xue Chonghai was the most problematic cultivator back in the old days. He killed a lot of dudes and fed their resentment to...a turtle? To the disk? I don’t know; I literally am unable to pay attention when anyone is explaining the intricacies of the unobtanium Yin Iron.

Anyway there’s a disk and it’s soaked up a lot of resentment.

Using it makes people evil. Well except..clearly this dude started off evil, yeah? If he was feeding people to his turtle.

Side effects may include: being fucking crazy

Here Wei Wuxian brings out his "resentful energy is awesome" theory and has an experienced grown-up grand master tell him that she also thought this, and has spent 100 years locked in a cave with headband-wearing rabbits because she was super fucking wrong. Does this deter him? ...nope

Baoshan Sanren

Now she name checks Baoshan Sanren, and Wei Wuxian has a big reaction and Lan Wangji has a big noticing of Wei Wuxian’s reaction. He’s very attuned to Wei Wuxian’s emotional state, in the moments where WWX lets his actual feelings show through the sass and swagger.

Lan Gran talks about her search for the Yin iron, and Lan Wangji wisely says, if you can't neutralize it, why look for it? And she says, I was filled with hubris just like ya boi Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji points out the exact same shit he will later point out to Wei Wuxian.

So now we have a parallel in which Lan Yi is just like Wei Wuxian and Baoshan Sanren is just like Lan Wangji, yeah? Which is kind of sweet; it shows how these types are drawn together and how your clan doesn't determine your personality. Also it shows how the Lan clan has room for an unorthodox clan leader. Also it shows how the Yin Iron causes some really bad breakups.

These boys are standing on snow barefoot which has got to take a pretty high cultivation level. Look how short Lan Wangji is without his stilettos, aww.

Flashback to Baoshan Sanren, just long enough to appreciate how beautiful she is.

Did OP give up on recoloring that flashback-blue-hazed image and just start fucking around with random filters? Yes she did.

We also get to see that Lan Yi and Lan Wangji have more common than just guqin, because they both like to solve problems by kicking them.

So after breaking up with her girlfriend, Lan Gran became invisible in this cave for 100 years while trying to contain the Yin iron and put headbands on rabbits.

Soundtrack: Vogue by Madonna Writing prompt: Watership Down rabbits meet Lan rabbits

Bonus extended bath clip:

Bai Yu, Detective L

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #the untamed stills #chen qing ling #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #cdrama #tw:cussing #more cussing than usual #that is #this is so long I can no longer edit it to fix my typos #even in html editor it won't save #good lord #must have fewer thoughts from now on #if you make it to the end there's a bonus bath gif

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nocturnaldivinationsfallingstars · 4 years ago

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A Stray Bullet Part 2

Fandom: Gotham Characters: Victor Zsasz, female!reader, James Gordon. Warnings: Mentions of blood, swearing. Summary: The reader is James Gordon’s sister and works for the GCPD and is dating Victor Zsasz. The reader has kept it a secret from her brother, until one day when she takes a bullet that was meant for him. Victor then shows up at James’ place to see the reader. Word count: 3,513 A/N: I apologise for this chapter taking me a while to edit! I hope you all enjoy it.

A deafening silence seemed to fall heavily upon the bullpens on the lower level as everyone stood stiffly in place. The files they once held in their hand were now forgotten and scattered over their desks or the floor. Their arrestee's was also forgotten about, quietly waiting with bated breath for the inevitable to happen. Each officer and detective stared at the intimidating man before them with unblinking eyes, almost transfixed waiting for him to speak and tell them why he's in the department. Standing off to the side by the entrance stood the two Zsaszettes, one of which took the cap off of a male officer and placed it on her own head with a smile. While the other leaned into his personal space, ruffling his short thin hair with a grin.

The officer looked uncomfortable with the attention from the two women, his cheeks red while he kept jerking his head away from the woman's reach. The sigh of discontent and annoyance that escaped him was audible in the quietness. You couldn't blame him, if it were you in that situation, you'd feel uncomfortable as well.

With a deep and somewhat shaky sigh of anticipation, you managed to avert your stare of mild disinterest from the scene of the poor officer that was being terrorised by Victor's 'friends'. You trailed your eyes over to your boyfriend and pressed your lips together into a thin line.

Victor turned swiftly on the heels of his feet with so much ease it almost seemed like a natural movement. He proceeded to move away from the desk he had rapped his knuckles against just a few moments ago. He crossed the small space from the desk to the wooden bench, which could seat three arrestees waiting to be processed, that was pressed flush against another desk. You watched quietly as your heart beat steadily in your chest for the time being, as a dark feeling bubbled its way up in the pit of your stomach. Victor stepped on the bench, his confidence never wavering as he hauled himself onto the surface of the desk with minimal effort, like he had done this plenty of times before. He most likely had, you told yourself as you remembered his profession.

He scanned the crowd of people who stood before him, most of whom were still staring in his direction with a blank, almost unreadable expression on their faces. A blush appeared on your cheeks as you looked up at Victor, burning like a bright red beacon as you emitted a low whining noise that rose from your throat. You shrank into your chair as your shoulders shot upwards and pressed against your neck and earlobes harshly. You used the collar of your ivory coloured blouse to try to hide from his gaze, like you are trying to make yourself small and unnoticeable. However, his dark, cold eyes fell on you upon hearing the low whining sound. Some kind of emotion that you couldn't quite place flashed across his eyes for a mere moment. Victor stared at you huddled in your chair, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

This wasn't a part of what Victor had planned out meticulously around your work schedule, which you had pinned to the front of your old, dented fridge with a circular magnet. You were supposed to be at home for the day relaxing, or even out shopping, at the very least doing something away from the GCPD. This was so that you weren't involved in any kind of capacity, however, he would take care of that if the need were to ever arise. He would simply have to wing it.

You watched him as his hands went to the lapels of his black jacket, rubbing his thumbs carefully over the fabric. Victor spoke in a loud, crystal-clear voice, gaining the attention of any other officers that may have otherwise ignored the assassin. You, however, unlike your co-workers, almost flinched as he spoke. Breaking the quiet stillness that you had got used to.

“Hello everyone, my name is Victor Zsasz. I'm sent here personally by Don Carmine Falcone himself on a matter of deep concern to him, so please be respectful.” he introduced himself charismatically to the room. At least his eyes were no longer on you. A frown creased your brow as you listened to what he had to say. If what Victor is saying turns out to be true; that Falcone, the current criminal kingpin of Gotham City, sent his personal and most trusted hitman here for an officer of the GCPD, then it must be to send the rest of the officers, including yourself, a message to never cross him.

Your tongue darted from between your dry lips to moisten them and your hands twitched nervously on the arms of your chair. It was all you could do to keep yourself from worrying that maybe Victor wasn't there for an officer, but instead for you on the orders of Falcone. After all it wouldn't be an unreasonable idea to why Victor is at your place of work.

Falcone had been one of the many reasons as to why you and Victor decided to keep your relationship a secret. Well, Falcone and your brother were just a few of the reasons as to why it is a secret. There was no telling what Falcone would do, or even get someone to do something unpleasant to you, if he knew.

“I'm here for Jim Gordon,” Victor continued as he removed his hands from the lapels of his jacket and held them out in front of himself, his elbows bent as he made a slight hand gesture. Your mouth parted, eyes darting towards the Captain’s office. What the fuck did he do now, you thought to yourself anxiously. The dark feeling that bubbled in the pit of your stomach threatened to crawl up your throat and spill past your lips like some kind of poisonous bile, nervously glancing from the office’s closed door and over to Victor. “Only him. Everybody else mind your own business, and we're cool.” He added, finally dropping his hands to his sides.

Looking around at the people near you, still watching him intently as he spoke in his calm voice. No one seemed phased, and it made you wonder just how often this kind of thing happened at the GCPD for no one to be bothered by the threat to your own brother’s life. Most officers here really did have questionable morals.

“So, where's Jim man?” Victor asked the large crowd as he leaned forwards ever so slightly, raising his brows expectantly. For a moment no one made a move to tell him, but just as his pale lips opened, a couple of people turned their heads towards the closed door of Captain Sarah Essen's office. Even though you already knew where your brother was, you still copied Victor and followed their gaze to the glass, swallowing hard.

From where you sat you could make out two silhouettes. The taller of the two of course being James's, the shorter being the Captain’s.

Did you need to think of a foolproof escape plan for James? Or did he already have one? After all he usually had some sort of plan for something like this. If he didn't then he'd often make one up on the spot. Why would now be any different from any other time? He had to have a plan, he had to think of a plan.

“What the fucking hell did you do, Jim?” You muttered, shifting in the chair which creaked under your weight. Your stomach lurched and your throat felt as if someone was squeezing it tightly. A lump formed in your throat. The realisation that he had got himself into something that he basically had no way out of dawned on you, making your stomach lurch once more. Your fingers curled around the arm rests of your chair, keeping you in place.

“Thank you,” Victor said in a hushed tone of voice. Pressing the tips of his fingers against his chest, his dark eyes broke away from the door for a brief moment before instantly returning.

“Hey Jim!” he called out loud enough. Your eyes darted from Victor and over to the door, where your brother turned his head to the sound of his name. Victor dropped his hands back to his side once more, tearing your eyes from the door and over to Victor.

“Jim -” Victor drew out teasingly, his gaze never moving from the silhouettes. Barely a few seconds later you heard the unmistakable sound of the Captain's door opening, and then two sets of footsteps that echoed around you. Of course this drew your attention from your boyfriend to find James and the Captain stood in front of the wooden railing. The door closed behind them with a loud click.

“Don't say something stupid. Please don't say something stupid.” You whispered to yourself, trying to will James to not make things worse. This earned a few curious glances from those stood closest to you. Paying no attention to them, you continued to hope for him to keep his mouth shut.

“Hi Jim.” Victor said with the tiniest hint of a smile on his face and the smallest trace of happiness hidden in his voice could be heard. He raised a hand and gave James a small wave before dropping his hand back to his side, flexing his fingers. “Relax, we're supposed to take you in alive. Don Falcone wants to talk.” Silence filled the room for a brief moment before James started to talk.

“Tell Falcone we'll talk,” you let out a breath of air you had been holding as his gruff voice bounced around the quiet room. He was being civil. Perhaps he won't get maimed and killed after all, “but not today” he added. And there goes any chance of James coming out of this alive and unharmed by Victor today, you thought bitterly to yourself.

“Don't… be that way.” Victor managed to seethe out through clenched teeth, clamping his jaw together, his hands tightening into fists.

“Alive is a very broad category; a man with no hands can still be alive.” Victor spoke in a cold, slow voice which sent a shiver down your spine. You had never heard him talk that way before, and you didn't know if you found it attractive or really, really terrifying. However, with your current conflicting feeling at this very moment it may as well be a bit of both.

“There are 50 cops in here. Try something.” James said, his voice low and held a dangerously daring tone to it.

“Everybody out.” Victor stated simply, a hint of malice dripping like poison in his voice, not once did the hitman take his eyes from James. Not one of the officers made a move to leave, not even you. A couple of officers shifted on their feet as they looked between the two men locked in a staring competition.

“Please!” Victor yelled angrily. This caused you to jump in your chair, your shoulders knocking your jacket off and onto the wooden floor beneath your feet with a thud. No one batted an eyelash at the noise that came from your direction, all of them scrambling to leave as quickly as they possibly could. The doors slammed shut behind them when the last person exited. You almost laughed at the thought of the confused facial expressions of the civilians on the streets watching all fifty officers leave the department at once.

“Go boss, get out of here.”

“Jim,” Sarah whispered, unmoving.

“Go, I’m gonna handle this. Take [Y/N] with you.” Nodding his head towards the doors.

You shot up almost automatically from your chair, throwing your hands in the air as you did so before dropping them to your side. The palms of your hands slapping against your thighs loudly. You saw Captain Essen move out of your peripheral vision, she reached your desk in a matter of seconds, reaching a still hand out for you. You couldn't help but wonder why she was so calm about this whole situation, much like the others.

“I am not leaving you here Jim! This is completely fucking insane, even for you. You'll get yourself killed.” You told your brother, waving off the Captain who took that as a sign to leave you and left, the door swinging closed behind her.

“He's right. You should leave. I'd hate to hurt someone as beautiful as you.” Victor told you, his head now turned in your direction with a look of curiosity on his features. His words making a blush rise to your cheeks once more. You were silently cursing the fact that he could make a blush appear with a few simple words and soft, dark eyes pleading for you to listen and not to be stubborn for once.

“I am not leaving,” you told the two men stubbornly. You could see Victor's fingers twitching, letting his irritation towards your words known. You had to avert your eyes from him. He knew that he wouldn't be able to tell his girls not to hurt you, since the two of you needed to keep asking as if neither one of you knew each other. Of course this was only to keep yourselves from raising any suspicions. Victor rolled his shoulders turning his attention back to your brother, his brows raised.

You knew that leaving your brother to take care of Victor and his girls along would absolutely guarantee his death. Whereas staying behind to help him made you feel as if he had a chance, a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless. Although, you did feel as if staying behind was some sort of death wish more than anything. But you couldn't exactly let him die here, and it's not like you'd be shooting at Victor per se. You'd leave that part to your dear brother after all and aim in the general direction of Victor's girls. You reasoned with yourself.

“Well now Jim,” Victor drawled out, his hands already inching towards the gun on his hip at a slow pace. Anxiety twisted your stomach in knots as you watched somewhat patiently for what’s to happen next.

James moved his hand, brushing aside his blazer and popping the button on his holster he drew his gun with quickly and with ease. Dropping behind your desk to one of your knees, you made a silent prayer to whoever was listening that you had your gun on yourself as you followed his lead. It wasn't long after James drew his weapon did he start firing at Victor who did a backflip off of the metal table he had been standing on. The bullet ricocheted off of its surface and landed somewhere on the floor with a gentle clink.

“You know I can take care of this. Just go!” James called back to you from his hiding place. You made a face as you turned around on the balls of your feet and shot a couple of rounds at the two women behind you before ducking behind cover, rather liking the fact that you are alive.

“Mhm…” You hummed out, pretending to think about it, “nope. Still staying.” You responded.

James ducked behind Harvey’s desk as Victor fired round, after round, after round at James relentlessly. Victor clambered onto a desk he walked along the metal surface with purpose, pulling the trigger of the gun in hand a couple of times.

A bullet penetrated the glass doors in front of James and shattered to the floor in a million pieces. For a brief moment, James huddled himself together, his arms going to the top of his head to shield himself from the falling shards of glass, scrambling to move from his compromised hiding place. You pushed yourself up from behind the desk with a grunt and started to move towards the green-ish grey door that led to the back stairwell and the GCPD's parking lot. It was a more feasible exit than trying to make a run for the front doors, so that's where you guessed James was heading to, clearly having some kind of escape plan in mind.

James pushed the metal desk over once he turned the corner to create another hiding space from the flurry of bullets that rained down in his direction. He grabbed at the metal trash can that's sitting beside the desk. His eyes darted to the woman with her dark hair styled into a quiff and threw it at her hand to keep her from shooting at you, letting you use this opportunity to dive behind cover and started shooting in the direction of the other female from where you knelt behind cover.

This drew her attention away from your brother as the two of you hurriedly made your way to the open doorway, James getting there before you however. You came skidding to a stop next to the trio of dark green filing cabinets, pressing your lips together into a thin line you raised your hand, and sent a few more rounds flying towards both women

Just as one of them fired at you, Victor pulled the trigger of his own gun a couple of times. You hoped he had emptied the clip and chamber in those few shots, but knew it was unlikely that he did. The bullets he sent flying through the air were clearly meant for James. You hadn't exactly done anything to warrant a hail of bullets in your directions, this was more for the illusion after all. However, as you turned to run and join James, you turned your body in the direct line of fire of oncoming bullets.

The first of the bullets embedded itself deeply into your side, causing you to throw your free arm around yourself, making it all the easier for you to press your hand against your side where the sharp pain ripped through you. You doubled over, feeling the wet sticky substance of blood seeping through your once perfectly clean blouse. Trying to straighten yourself out just as the second bullet straight through your shoulder, causing you to drop to your knees on the floor, a pained look twisted across your features.

A loud pained-filled scream tore from you and filled the room, mixing with the echoes of bullets ricocheting off of the metal filing cabinets and the heavy foot falls of the three advancing people.

“What the fuck?” You squealed out in a high-pitched voice from the pain that seared through your shoulder. Your words aimed towards your boyfriend, who muttered out a string of profanities as he dropped from the desk with a heavy thud when his feet touched the floor. You dropped your gun and reached up with your hand to press it firmly against your shoulder. James, however, ran to you, took a hold of your upper arm, and proceeded to pull you across the floor. Once he was sure that you were out of the way, he pushed a filing cabinet over to block the exit that you and he were about to take. Hoping it would give him a bit of extra time to get you to your car that was parked out back.

James yanked you up from the floor and to your feet with a grunt of effort, flinging your arm around his shoulder and gripping your wrist in a vice-like grip. You grit your teeth at the sudden surge of white-hot pain blooming through your shoulder and side, leaning into your brother for support as he pulled you towards the stairwell. He pushed the door open with a loud clang that rattled through the barren room as the handle hit against the brick wall. His hand moved to your side instantly, muttering out an apology as he placed his hand over yours tightly, pulling you up once more to keep you from falling to the floor.

“God-fucking-damn it, that hurts like hell.” You hissed out in a shaky voice. Even walking sent a burning pain shooting through your entire side and sent a shiver down your spine.

“There's just a couple flights of stairs to go down, and then we can get out of here.” James told you in that soft and soothing voice he would often use when you were little after doing something that you most certainly shouldn't have done.

Your lips curled into a faint smile as a small humourless laugh escaped your lips, you cast your eyes to the red droplets that had fallen to the pristine white floor. “I'm so glad that's all there is. A couple,” you muttered in response, willing your feet to move. James could always leave you on the stairwell and get out of there. You were sure Victor would send his girls after your brother while he stayed behind to 'take care' of you, but you knew that if you even so much as suggested the idea James would never agree.

Taglist; @moonlitcrystals, @nheirei, @the-ramblings

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years ago

Note

Hi, for heartbeats how about

12. "Don't worry, I'm just checking your pulse."

24. "That's not how you use a stethoscope"

for poor John please. :)

Homework Mishap

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: John, Scott, Gordon

I've had a few inquiries about what happened when it was Gordon doing the homework Alan did in my previous ficlet, and what do you know - these prompts fall very nicely for that, so consider this a prequel of sorts! Marginally more whumpy, but still mostly fluff, and certain brothers being careless idiots.

Poor John, indeed. He didn't ask for this!

Heartbeat Prompts

“Hey, John.”

Those two words, if said in a particular tone, could get his guard up faster than even the smell of Grandma’s cooking. The minor drawl, with the hint of something almost sing-song, coming from his big brother was the exact combination.

“No,” he said bluntly, turning around from where he’d just entered the den to depart again before whatever his brother wanted became apparent. The fact that Gordon was perched on the sofa next to Scott with a giant grin on his face was the unnecessary confirmation that it was nothing good.

He made it as far as the stairs before a hand caught his wrist, tugging him to a halt and almost – almost – overbalancing him. An arm wrapped around his chest bodily, saving him from a tumble but also well and truly pinning him in place.

“Let go, Scott,” he demanded, trying to yank himself free to no avail.

“It’ll only take a minute,” Scott promised, as though that was supposed to be reassuring.

“What will only take a minute?” he demanded, thoroughly un-reassured. “Let go.”

“You caught him!” The appearance of Gordon, amber eyes gleaming, was far from unexpected but still unwelcome. “Hold still, Johnny.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped instinctively, yanking harder to get out of Scott’s iron grip and stamping on his in-step when that failed.

Scott yelped, but John’s victory – and freedom – was short-lived as Gordon latched onto his wrist with fingers that had the grip of tentacles.

“Don’t worry,” the squid told him. “I’m just checking your pulse.”

John tried to break his grip, but Scott recovered quickly and he soon found himself captured again. “Why?”

“Homework,” the blond menace beamed, entirely too pleased considering his ongoing campaign to see how many times he could throw his homework in the pool before the school stopped accepting “it got wet” as an excuse.

“You hate homework,” he said flatly. Scott chuckled in his ear.

“He just needed some incentive to do this one,” his big brother said in his ear. “Sorry, John.” He didn’t sound sorry in the slightest.

Gordon being willing to do his homework meant that John reluctantly stopped fighting and let him take the pulse measurement in peace. That did not mean that Scott was going to get away with this. Now that he was thinking about it, John was pretty sure what the homework was from his own school days, and knew that Scott could easily have offered himself up instead of setting Gordon on him.

There would be revenge.

John’s idea of revenge usually involved technology, and just enough of a time lapse that his target started to forget they’d wronged him. It was very effective, and highly satisfying, but this time John thought he should change it up a little. Otherwise, he’d get predictable, and Scott was annoyingly good at catching patterns in his brothers’ behaviour.

“All done,” Gordon chirped, releasing his wrist. “Thanks, Johnny!”

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, but his attention was on Scott as the arms holding him in place slackened. “Am I free to go now?”

“Yup!” Gordon had a habit of popping his ‘p’s when he was either satisfied or attempting to be obnoxious, and John wrinkled his nose at the spray of saliva that accompanied it.

Scott let go and John moved.

The squawk his big brother made as he collided with the floor was highly satisfying, and John pinned him down with a knee in the small of his back before he could get his breath back.

Gordon let out a disbelieving but impressed whistle.

“Gerroff,” Scott mumbled, trying to push himself up. John leaned down a little more heavily, aware of the stairs less than a foot away.

“No,” he said simply.

“John.”

“Scott.”

“Wow,” Gordon breathed, and John glanced up at him to see that he was staring, open mouthed, at the pair of them. “Johnny, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Well, at least he’d caught one brother off-guard, although from the big brother beneath him, it was pretty safe to say he’d caught him both. Scott was good at escaping if he got a whiff of being a target. Just ask Virgil.

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” he said, shrugging.

That was a mistake.

Sensing distraction, Scott exploded into movement all at once, surging upwards and unbalancing John in the process., sending him toppling to one side.

It would have been fine if it wasn’t the side where the stairs were.

John had a split second of realisation, just long enough to snatch at Scott, before gravity took hold. Scott, unfortunately, wasn’t balanced either. A desperate attempt to use his big brother as an anchor, mirrored by said big brother when he realised what was about to happen, failed. His fingers snagged Scott’s arm, Scott’s own hand wrapping around his arm in turn, and there was a flash of blond, then he was falling.

Well, rolling. They were rolling. Down, and down, and down the stairs, in a tangle of limbs. The handful of seconds it took to reach the bottom of the thankfully short flight stretched for eternity but also passed in the blink of an eye.

John’s landing was soft. There were arms around him, again, a hand on the back of his head, and a warm body beneath him. His own hands were fisted in fabric, and he took a moment to breathe before letting go and trying to get up.

The protective arms around him were reluctant to release him, but as he tugged again they fell away and he rolled painfully off of his brother.

“John! Scott!” Gordon clattered down the stairs after them, two at a time. “Are you okay?”

“What happened?” That was Virgil, running over to them.

Next to him, Scott let out a groan. “Ow.”

“Don’t move,” Virgil ordered, looming over both of them. “What hurts? John?”

He winced. “Is everything a valid answer?” At the look of panic on his brother’s face, he held up a hand. “I think I’m just bruised.”

“Hmm,” Virgil said dubiously. “Scott?”

“I’m fine,” their idiot of a big brother said, although he notably didn’t move. “Urgh.”

“Gordon, grab a medscanner,” Virgil said.

“F.A.B.” The blond whirlwind vanished as John watched Virgil scrutinise Scott more closely, clearly concerned that he was doing as he was told for once.

“Scott, what hurts?” Their brother groaned again.

“It’s fine,” Scott said, contradicting his behaviour. “Same as John; bruises everywhere. Bruises probably have bruises.”

“Neither of you are moving until you’re scanned,” Virgil told them firmly. John found himself amenable to that declaration and didn’t protest.

When Gordon skedaddled back onto the scene a minute later, he wasn’t just holding the requested medscanner but also a stethoscope.

John eyed him warily as he approached with it, passing the medscanner over to Virgil, who promptly deployed it on a protesting Scott. “What are you doing with that?”

“Checking you over,” his brother said, and before John had a chance to protest that that was what the scanner was for, once Virgil was done with Scott, the cool metal end was being pressed against his… neck?

“That’s not how you use a stethoscope,” he said. Gordon shrugged.

“I know.” Then there was a spark of mischief in his eyes and John eyed him warily as he leaned closer. “Want to get Scott with it later?”

John glanced over at the brother in question, who was still protesting that he was fine to Virgil. The medscanner was flashing up yellows and oranges, but nothing serious. As Scott had taken the brunt of the fall, John was willing to bet that if his brother was fine, he would be, too.

And revenge that didn’t backfire painfully – literally – was still required.

“Hold that thought,” he said quietly, and the stethoscope promptly vanished. A moment later, Scott was sitting up and the medscanner was passing over John’s body, accompanied by worried brown eyes.

Yellows and oranges, the same as Scott, flashed up, and Virgil sighed.

“So,” he demanded. “What happened?”

“Scott pushed John down the stairs and John took him with him,” Gordon chipped in sunnily.

“What?”

“They were helping me with my homework.”

“Unwillingly, in my case,” John felt compelled to add, pulling himself into a sitting position and sending a glare Scott’s way. His brother shrugged, then winced. “If we’re done here, I’m going to my room. Don’t disturb me.”

He dragged himself to his feet, ignoring Virgil’s offered assistance, and began the trek to the sanctity of his room. Gordon would no doubt follow shortly, wanting to properly plan a prank on Scott, but his squid of a brother had more than enough sense to at least make it subtle when he did decide to follow.

In the meantime, John was going to flop on his bed and start planning what could be done with a stethoscope.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #john tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #thunderfluff #drabbles #such-a-random-rambler #heartbeat homework

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corpsentry · 4 years ago

Text

ao3 mirror

fandom: age of calamity, botw rating: g starring: prince sidon and mipha note: spoilers for both games

"You know, Daruk’s my idol,” Yunobo says. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” Sidon says. He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands for long enough to look up blankly at him. "Mipha was my sister."

the age of calamity, side b.

The thing about time travel is, even if someone stands in front of you and tells you point-blank that there’s a way to bring your dead sister back to life, you’re probably not going to believe them.

“I don’t believe you,” says Sidon.

“Okay,” Teba says patiently, fluffing his feathers with an absent glide of his wing. “Try harder.”

Sidon stares at him. He tries harder, though he’s not sure what that entails and so doesn’t end up really doing anything. “I don’t get you.”

“Which part don’t you get?”

“I get to see Mipha again?”

Teba’s eyebrow twitches. “Let me put this as simply as I can, Prince,” he says, a little too loudly. The soldier stationed at the bottom of the staircase turns to look at them. “We’re going to go back to the point a hundred years ago at which the four champions were killed in their divine beasts. We’re going to save them. We’re going to make sure they defeat Ganon before he can send Hyrule into ruin. And then we’re going to leave.”

By now, they’ve caught everyone’s attention. It’s been a long time since a hundred years ago, but here in Zora’s Domain it still feels like the events of last Tuesday, to be recounted over salt tea and fish skewers, to be mourned over an empty coffin. Everyone’s staring at the big white bird with the angry eyebrows, a little curious, a little apprehensive. For what he’s worth, Teba is indifferent. This much will not faze him.

Sidon twiddles his thumbs behind his back, where Teba cannot see them and the guards at the bottom of the staircase can point and laugh all they want. To be honest, he heard nothing. His heart stopped when he heard ‘killed in their divine beasts’, at which point a watery monster punched its way into his skull and crushed his brain. The monster is nothing concrete, nothing crystal-clear, just what little Link has told him, bits and pieces of a history he was prevented from taking part in. It’s been several months since the kid dragged his beaten-up body halfway across Hyrule and kicked Ganon’s ass, though they’re still feeling the after-effects of that particular calamity today. Mipha’s statue still looms over their heads, a reminder of what it means to die alone and far away from home.

“So,” Sidon starts, hearing his voice echoing in his ears like metal slicing through air. “What you’re saying is, I get to see Mipha again.”

Teba looks like he wants to grab one of the guards’ spears and stab Sidon in the face, but for what he’s worth, he reigns it in. “Yes.”

“Okay.” He grins. “I’m in.”

He tried to fight a lynel when he was fifteen. The domain had been overrun with monsters who had arrived for the pre-party to Ganon’s return, including an outstanding number of wizzrobes, several moblins, and a tall, intimidating figure which spat electricity from its pink-tongued mouth and whose name he couldn’t recall. While his father, the king, and his sister, the princess, breezed through the area like a lightning strike, reclaiming keeps and stabbing moblins with silver teeth so their generals could forge a path ahead, Sidon reveled in the wonder of being left unsupervised at four a.m. in the morning. And then heard the familiar, haunting roar of a lynel. And then decided to go and say hi.

It was a mistake, of course. The lynel was so tall he couldn’t make out the gear on its back. Its face was all squished up, like a birthday cake that had been stepped on, and its horns were too big for its thick, blocky nose. This was funny for all of five seconds. Then the lynel extracted a bow from that unknowable space behind it and aimed the sharp end of an arrow at his face, and it became a problem.

“H-h-h-hi,” said Sidon, holding up his Kid Spear, which was strictly for Kid Use Only, and had the offensive capabilities of a stick.

“RHOOARHGHHGHH,” said the lynel.

He jabbed the Kid Spear at the lynel’s leg. The lynel spat at him, though probably unintentionally, as it seemed preoccupied with the arrow it was trying to send into his face. It was stuck. The big scary lynel’s bow was stuck.

Emboldened by the stupid scary lynel’s broken bow, Sidon decided to try again. “Please go away, Mr. Lynel,” he said in his best and most charming Kid Prince voice, twirling his Kid Spear like a sweet jellyfish skewer.

“RHOAHOARHAGHOGHHHH,” said the lynel, who sounded significantly angrier than before.

“I understand,” Sidon said politely, and then closed his eyes and sent a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way he had been taught to since he was old enough to speak, the way every child in Hyrule knew that there was a place for them to go to after they left this world behind). He braced for impact, which he hoped would be of the violent sort, earth-shattering and brisk enough to break his bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. He was fifteen, not five. This was Ganon’s era. Every living creature in Hyrule knew this, the way their ancestors woke up and knew which direction the sun would rise from. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When your people die. When the knight emerges from the woods with the sacred sword in his hand, and saves you all.

But none came. When he opened his eyes, and he did so reluctantly, adrenalin coursing through his veins like thunder, the world was pitch black. In place of the cool blue moon was his sister, her ceremonial gear glittering darkly, the Lightscale Trident glowing like a star in her right hand.

“Holy shit,” whispered Sidon the kid. Mipha stabbed the lynel in the face.

She hugged him when it was all over and they had put the moblins and the wizzrobes and the electric moblin (so that’s what it was! Terrifying) back to sleep. Their father was upset, but he was frequently upset at Sidon and so it didn’t bother him as much as it could have. Sidon was not Mipha. It was all right if he got things wrong, as long as his sister never did. Coincidentally, the Hylian princess had been in the area at the time of the attack, accompanied by a knight with blue eyes and a Sheikah warrior who looked like she would throw a knife at a fish for sport. It was a good thing Mipha had been at home, and not visiting one of the other tribes or hunting for crabs near Lurelin. It was a good thing she had intervened when she had, lest the pre-party become the real thing.

“Thank you,” said the Hylian princess, trying her best to smooth her brow and failing. She looked anxious, though she had only come to pass on her father’s word, though the word that she had brought was victory.

Mipha smiled at her with a face full of sun. “It is my pleasure.”

He wishes the egg could talk. If the egg could talk then Teba would have less reason to talk, and if Teba talked less then Sidon would have less of a raging headache, which which would make him less of an asshole, which would make their discussions go much more smoothly than the janky, sputtering mess they’ve been all week.

“As I was saying,” says Teba, continuing whatever train of thought he picked up on their way up to Goron City and then dumped unceremoniously by the side of the road. As he does this, Death Mountain spits a chunk of lava out of its steaming gaping top, which lands a few inches shy of his breastplate. He hops backwards without missing a beat and begins fanning himself with one wing.

Riju stops fiddling with the diamond circlet in her hands for long enough to give him a look of inquiry. “As you were saying?”

“I can’t wait to see Daruk.” Yunobo scratches his arm. It makes a sound like two large boulders grinding together. Riju drops the circlet.

“You’re only going to see him for a short while,” Teba comments over the sound of the egg blowing its top at Riju and Sidon plugging his ears with his fingers. “No point getting all worked up about it.”

“You’re just as worked up yourself,” Riju counters. Patricia barks. Teba flinches.

This is true. There are two things Teba won’t shut up about. In ascending order of importance, they are 1) when they should depart for the alternate timeline in which they will prevent their respective ancestors from getting their spirits trapped in giant mechanical monsters for a hundred years, and 2) how incredible Revali is. Because Revali was the most powerful Rito warrior that ever walked the land (or flew over it, or blasted bomb arrows at it, whatever). Revali singlehandedly invented an entire style of aerial combat which involves launching yourself into the air with an updraft that defies the laws of the universe and then setting your surroundings on fire. Revali killed god.

Teba looks like he wants to go back to his wife and kid in Rito village. Good for him. Not all of them have bodies to put in coffins. “I just want to meet him once,” he says quietly.

Yunobo laughs, and it sounds like two extra large boulders grinding together. “Me too, brother.” He picks up the diamond circlet from the floor and puts it on his head like some kind of weird hat. “I’m going to tell Daruk how great he is. And then I’m going to go home.”

One time when they were much, much younger, before he woke up one morning and Mipha was three times his height, one of the guards brought back some durians. The durians were misshapen and spiky and smelled intimidating, though Sidon wouldn’t go as far as to say that the smell was unpleasant. The guard had obtained them from a merchant in the Faron region. He hadn’t meant to purchase them, but they were the last of her stock and she said she could only head home once she had sold everything. He empathized her.

At first they tried to open the durians with their hands, but this only produced several pricked fingers and left ominous and eerily substantial bloodstains everywhere, so someone brought out a spear, almost drove it through the table, and someone else brought out a carving knife. Halfway through the spectacle of watching one of the guards, who was thirty-seven and enjoyed collecting glowing stones as a hobby, attempt to de-spike an entire durian, the crowd parted abrutpyl.

“What are you all doing?” Mipha put her hand absently on Sidon’s head. He had been watching the ongoing debacle out of some kind of morbid curiosity, standing on tip-toes so he could peek over the top of the table, though now he had apparently been relegated to armrest.

“Trying to open this durian, your highness.”

Mipha laughed. His sister’s laugh was a delicate, heartrending affair, like trying to pull weeds from the bottom of a lake without breaking them at the stem. The weather at home was always more or less divine, but whenever Mipha laughed, Sidon swore it blasted a hole right through the clouds. If there were no clouds, then the hole appeared in the fabric of the sky instead. Mipha, at her brightest, was a walking catastrophe of sun.

Still chuckling a little, like she’d been made privy to a secret that none of them knew about, Mipha stepped up to the cutting board. “You have to do it like this,” she said cheerfully, digging her fingers into a seam in the durian’s shell like she’d been dealing with danger all her life.

Cue gasping. Cue the horrors of childbirth.

The durian was sweet. It was also a little goopy, but Sidon was no stranger to things which stuck to your fingers and refused to let go (he was one of those objects when it came to his sister, who he could rarely be found more than an arm’s length away from on any given day), so he felt for the little spiky fruit, and decided that he would make an effort to bring some back home when he went traveling himself in the future. While he examined the inside of the durian’s shell, which had been hollowed of fruit and had the texture of rough sandpaper, the guards crowded around Mipha and demanded that she share her secret to not getting stabbed to death by the fierce and terrifying durian. But either she didn’t know how to explain it to them, or they weren’t very good at listening, because she remained the only one capable of cracking open a durian with her bare hands for many, many years, up until she died while fighting a watery manifestation of Ganon inside the divine beast she had been told by the king of Hyrule to pilot to victory’s end. Then it was someone else’s turn to take over.

Painkillers for fish are a tricky affair. To begin with, charmingly little research has been conducted into the biology of the fish-person because the Zoras simply aren’t interested in how their bodies work, and while others have offered to do so in their place, among them several enthusiastic Sheikah researchers and one Hylian with a thing for huge glowing orbs, his people have never cared enough to give their consent. It’s a unique kind of apathy, one which stems from a place of privilege, or denial. They are, as a general statement of fact, very good at both.

“This will help.” Yunobo hands him a rock roast. Where did Yunobo get a rock roast from? Sidon frowns. They’re in the middle of the desert.

“Thanks,” Sidon says. Smiles. Kind of, like, holds the roast up to his mouth and gives it a sniff. It doesn’t smell half as good as durian. He puts it down.

It takes him several days to make sense of the convoluted sequence of events that Teba presented to him that day on the front door of the world he had rebuilt from scratch, surrounded by mystique and glamor and promising, in a breath of cold air, to bring his dead sister back to life. This makes it sound like he’s finished making sense of it all and will thus never be confused ever again, but if he’s to be entirely honest, he still doesn’t get it. He wants to. He’s scared to. He won’t look Teba in the eye.

“We should get going soon, don’t you think?” says Riju, who is twelve and somehow more put-together than all four of them combined. She pulls another book from the shelf and leaves it on the pile on the desk.

Yunobo shrugs loudly. “Doesn’t make a difference when we leave, does it? We could leave for Hyrule in twenty years, and we’d still end up at the same place.”

“But I want to save them,” Riju says earnestly. The pile behind her has been growing all afternoon, and will soon overtake her in height if she is not stopped. Mission preparation looks like archaeological excavation when you’re traveling backwards in time, and not forwards to some yet unknown destination. Ancient Sheikah records. Research journals. The writings of people who were obsessed with the events of a hundred years ago despite having no personal investment to speak of, and whose words carry with them a hint of reverence, even as they choreograph the funeral song of the old king. This is all that’s left of those ruins, aside from Link, who they’ve all quietly decided to keep uninformed of the current proceedings. Hyrule itself has been kept in the dark. No need for them to know about the maybes and the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. No need for more people to go crazy.

Sidon shuts the book in his hands with a thud. “But why?”

Riju’s eyes go wide. Drama queen. “Why what?”

Sidon opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. There’s a heat rash on the back of his neck which he can’t quite reach on his own. The elders had warned him about the desert, but the charm he received from Link has proven to be effective in all areas except for maintaining good skincare. He blinks dumbly at Riju, who has begun to flicker like the glassy surface of a pond. His eyes hurt.

“I mean, why do you.” His eyes hurt. His throat hurts. There’s something large and horrible stuck in his chest, and he can’t get it out. “Why do you want to save them?” There’s a durian in his rib cage. It must have lodged itself there when Teba glared at him like he was an idiot as he came face to face with the cruel reality of the universe, and it dawned on him like a dead body falling out of the sky that he would get to see Mipha one last time, and then he would have to come back. To a Hyrule without her. To the stupid stuck-up world that had to try again and again and again, coughing up blood and dragging itself through the dirt on bruised knees, before it could defeat the monster. “It’s not like they’ll come back to life,” he says, each word a silver knife in his mouth. “They’ll stay dead here. They’re already dead.”

Silence.

Riju has let everything go, including the diamond circlet, the topaz earrings, and three volumes sheathed in gold. Yunobo’s mouth is open so wide, you could stick your head inside and take a look around if you leaned in close enough. For the first time since he met him, Teba is at a loss for words. His chest rises and falls erratically, his hand on the bookshelf quivering, his eyebrows doing a little dance on his forehead. He’s sweating. Of course he is. They’re in the desert.

Riju, Hylia bless her soul, is the first to speak.

“It’s the spirit of things,” she says softly. She looks sadder than any twelve-year-old should ever have to look. But then and again, Sidon was barely old enough to hold a spear with both hands when his sister died and everything went to shit. Then and again, everything goes away eventually.

Sidon stares at her helplessly for a moment, gulping the humid air of the library like a fish out of water, then gives up and walks out of the room. He spends the rest of the afternoon blowing bubbles in the pool beside Kara Kara Bazaar while the other three continue their work, and then buys a durian from one of the vendors and hacks it open with his spear. You can’t crack open a durian with your bare hands, unless you’re Mipha, in which case you can do anything. It’s a good thing, then, that she’s gone.

When they were children and they got into trouble, his father would always scold Mipha far more harshly than Sidon. Mipha was the older sibling, after all. She should know better. This dynamic remained firmly established between them even as Mipha grew into her role as princess, future ruler, and eventually, champion. Of course, the reprimandings grew less stern, but Sidon had a penchant for winding up in places he wasn’t supposed to be in and Mipha had a penchant for being with him whenever this happened. He secretly resolved to pay her back when he got older and was finally able to stand up to his father, and therefore explain that most of the things they got into trouble for were his idea. He would be the one to weep at his father’s feet while his sister looked on with a horrified expression, and in that moment she would understand how much he loved her.

Then she died. You can’t tell the story of Mipha without this part. Mipha was a humble, kind girl, and then she died. Mipha could crack open a durian with her bare hands, and then she died. Mipha was the pride of their people, and then she died, and she died, and she died.

You can’t change the past with the wave of a hand. You’re not a bird. You’re not a fortune-teller. You’re a fish-person with an empty coffin for a sister, and in a few weeks’ time, you’re going to save her specter.

“...What if I brought her back with me?”

“Huh?”

“Hahajustkidding. No way I’d do that. Not a chance.”

“Um. Do you need painkillers?”

“Thanks, but they don’t work on me. I’m over a hundred years old, you see. Us Zoras, we’re different.”

The day before departure. They’re back at Zora’s domain. It’s raining. Teba is running through a checklist of items to bring with them which is so long, he has to hold it above his head to prevent it from touching the floor. Riju is feeding Patricia mandarin peels.

“You know, Sidon.”

Sidon looks up from his mandarin. “Mm?”

Yunobo grins at him. “Daruk’s my idol,” he says proudly. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” says Sidon, as enthusiastically as he can, because he genuinely wants to be happy for Yunobo who is finally going to meet his idol and has clearly dreamed about this moment for some time. He wants to be happy for all of them. He fucking wants to. This is a rescue mission, not the imprisonment Princess Zelda walked into in Hyrule castle, not the hundred-year nap Link took on the Great Plateau. This is a happy ending, even if it’s not theirs.

Daruk the idol. Urbosa the warrior. Revali the bird. Sidon pictures them in his head, the way Link described them to him once, his voice carrying across the water like beams of light.

“Mipha was—”

He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands, his nails still embedded in the soft skin of it, the white-tinged flesh peeking out like a wound. Outside, the rain keeps falling. A river of tears from the sky.

Yunobo tilts his head to the side. “Mipha was?”

Mipha was the pride of their people. Mipha was the first person he wanted to live forever. Mipha was the only one he knew who could crack open a durian with her bare hands, like she was peeling open the heart of a monster, only to reveal that it had been something soft and scared all along. Mipha was a flesh-and-blood person. Mipha was the light of their world. Mipha is an empty coffin with a name inscribed on the lid, a house with the lights off, a memory drenched in ocean.

Yunobo prods his shoulder, though he barely feels a thing. “Mipha was?” he repeats kindly, herding him along to the end of the line, to the boat at the edge of the water.

Sidon puts the mandarin away. He stares long and hard at Yunobo, and hopes that his eyes will convey the wound his body no longer knows how to carry.

“Mipha was my sister.”

Let’s say you’ve been entrusted with the future of your kingdom. There’s a bad guy coming, and everyone’s scared to death, so you learn how to pilot this big robotic elephant which shoots turrets of water like a machine gun, and you get really good at it, and when the bad guy arrives on your new friend’s birthday suddenly you can’t do it anymore. You’re trapped inside the giant elephant. You’re bleeding out all over the floor. Your chest hurts like something awful, and your vision is beginning to blur. Sensing your despair, the monster closes in on you, wielding that big blue trident like fury. It holds the sky up over your head, and as it does so you close your eyes. You send a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way you have been taught to since you were old enough to hold your little brother in your arms, the way every child in Hyrule knows that there is a place for them to go to after they leave this world behind). You brace for impact, which you hope will be the gentle sort, a slap to the wrist that’s conclusive enough to break your bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. You’re twenty, not five. This is the end of all things as you know it. Every living creature in Hyrule knows this, the way their ancestors woke up one day and knew that this world would come to ruin. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When everyone you’ve ever loved dies. When you walk into the mouth of the elephant, and the elephant changes its mind, and decides to keep you in its belly forever.

None arrives. You open your eyes slowly, hesitantly, fear a living memory in your bones, but you are not faced with the stinging end of a trident. In its place is a boy almost three times your height, his eyes glittering darkly, the spear in his right hand shining like a star.

He is not your brother. But, Hylia bless you all, he is.

So what can you say, when the evil has been defeated and you are standing on the balcony of the castle, smiling up at him through tears while this big overgrown baby stares at you like you’re the answer to the universe, except:

We’ll definitely meet again, won’t we?

He flinches, but you don’t ask, and he doesn’t say why. He pulls you into an earth-shattering, bone-crushing hug. It’s a beautiful day to be alive, the sun shining like sin, Hyrule’s beaten but stubbornly breathing carcass laughing up at you from the fields below. He takes your hands in his. He’s shivering. He’s shaking from head to toe.

Of course, he says in the kindest, saddest voice you’ve ever heard, though he has only come to pass on someone else’s words, though the word he has brought is salvation. From now on, I’ll always be by your side.

: : : : :

You smile at him with a face full of stars.

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years ago

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If You’re a Robot and You Know It, Clap Your Hands

Fandom: Loki Characters: Sylvie, Ravonna, B-15, Mobius Rating: G Word Count: 1774

Summary: Sylvie faces off against Ravonna while Mobius hangs out in post-prune purgatory with... himself?

“You’re more stoic than he was,” Ravonna noted, nodding at the empty air between them where Loki had lately stood.

Why the taunting, Sylvie wondered. Who was there left for Ravonna to impress? Her subordinates were all dead or unconscious, Loki was gone, the animatronic lizards who were not in fact ruling rigidly over time sat slumped in their seats. There was only Sylvie. Even when she had been a child, thin arm in the grip of a stone-faced woman in black armour like the shell of a beetle, Sylvie had not felt so alone with Ravonna as she did in this moment. It made her very angry. She would much rather have been alone with herself.

“How do you know how stoic Loki looked?” Sylvie spat. “You pruned him in the back!”

Ravonna tilted her head, glowing baton still raised.

“I don’t mean in the face of his own erasure from existence, I mean watching someone he cared about disappear.”

Sylvie’s expression had been hard—more than once, to get by, she’d imagined herself protected by that beetle armour from her childhood, closing her vulnerable parts away behind a scowl—but it slackened slightly in confusion.

“Agent Mobius,” Ravonna explained impatiently. There was a twitch of her eyelid that Sylvie caught and homed in on.

“They were friends,” she said slowly. Then, she stared hard into the Judge’s eyes. “You were friends. You and Mobius. You killed him?”

“I didn’t! I—”

“You had someone else do it?” Sylvie narrowed her eyes scornfully.

With an irritated groan, Ravonna lunged for her, but Sylvie hopped backwards over the head of the fake Time Keeper. She looked down and Ravonna followed her gaze, distracted from her attack by the sight of rubbery faux-flesh and protruding, crackling wires.

“And this?” Sylvie asked quietly, trying not to spook the woman with the weapon. “Did you have a hand in this deception? I never sensed it in you.”

Ravonna scoffed and looked away from the head on the floor.

“You were a child.”

“I was a Loki,” Sylvie snapped back.

Saying that name—the name she’d rejected but never forgotten, the name that had also been his—jolted her into action once more. She wedged the toe of her boot beneath the Time Keeper’s decapitated head and flipped it up, striking Ravonna in the stomach. The Judge folded forward and defensively swept the baton in a wide arc. Sylvie stepped out of the weapon’s path, not anticipating the way Ravonna swung her arm quickly back to hit her with the non-pruning end of the rod; she hadn’t been a Hunter in who knew how long, but she clearly hadn’t lost her skill with the tools of the trade.

The blunt end thudded into Sylvie’s ribs.

She was knocked back, but when Ravonna advanced, Sylvie’s hand shot up to grab the baton, hauling the Judge forward. Unbalanced, Ravonna was no challenge to send sprawling at the foot of the stairs leading up to the Time Keepers’ dais. She landed awkwardly. Sylvie breathed hard as she wrenched the baton completely free of Ravonna’s hold and went to retrieve her sword as well.

As she then moved to assess B-15, who was rising shakily to her knees, Sylvie never put her back to Ravonna. Pruned in the back. What a Loki death.

“You alright?” she asked B-15 softly.

The Hunter grunted and allowed Sylvie to support her into standing.

“Better if I knew where to go from here.”

“Let me worry about that,” Sylvie said.

Ravonna struggled to her own feet and Sylvie held the baton at arm’s length between them, keeping the Judge at a distance while B-15 opened the door behind them.

“Ah ah ah,” Sylvie warned archly, chin and eyebrows raised in impish caution. “You stay here and play with your robots.”

“This is temporary,” Ravonna said as Sylvie edged back through the open door.

Sylvie performed her signature cocked head and smirk.

“Isn’t everything?”

The second they were out of the Time Keepers’ chamber, B-15 slammed the doors and leaned into them, as if Ravonna would imminently begin trying to break them down from the inside. Which Sylvie supposed she might. She really almost admired Ravonna—or would have if the Judge hadn’t ruined her entire life.

She stared at the door handles, then at each of the weapons she held in her hands. Sword or baton, sword or baton? With a deep breath, Sylvie jammed the blade of her sword through the handles to bar the door, electing to keep the baton close. Though it was a less familiar weapon, she was nothing if not highly adaptable. Besides, touching the glowing end of the rod to a person was certainly more efficient than dispatching them with a blade. She wasn’t sure how many TVA workers they would encounter before they were out of here. This place and this time. Keeping the baton was the right choice.

She stole a last glance at the sword. Another little piece of herself left behind.

At the sound of reinforcements headed towards them, she and B-15 hurried away from the chamber.

“She used to be a Hunter,” B-15 said, shaking her head as they strode down the corridor, “like me.”

“I suppose she might have been like you at some point,” Sylvie said. She was interpreting the words a little differently. “I wonder when she stopped.”

“Do you?”

“Not really. I can trust you but not her.” Sylvie shrugged as she walked. “That’s about all I need to know.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I have to.”

“Same for me. Though I can’t say my faith in allies hasn’t been shaken recently,” B-15 said sarcastically. “The Time Keepers aren’t real, Ravonna’s been helping to cover up the truth, and I wasn’t even created here! I probably had to go through that degrading process of having my clothes zapped off!”

“Probably. I didn’t think you’d want to see that as a prioritized memory,” Sylvie said, half-apologetic. While they’d stood in the torrential rain outside Roxxcart, she’d allowed a highlight reel of memories to flash through the Hunter’s mind.

“You know, I always found it kind of strange that one of the few tests we run in this department is to judge whether or not someone is secretly a robot. I guess whoever designed the Time Keepers got paranoid.”

“Whoever that person is, paranoia is the least of their worries.”

“True,” B-15 agreed as she produced a TemPad. “Now, they’re going to have to deal with us.”

“If they’re still out there somewhere and not dead like Loki and Mobius,” Sylvie said bitterly. She flipped the TemPad open and programmed their destination.

“Maybe they aren’t dead. We’ve been misled about everything else. Maybe everyone who’s ever been pruned just ends up someplace… else.”

“It’s no place I’ve ever been.”

“Yet,” B-15 said.

The Time Door appeared before them. Pounding footsteps raced against Sylvie’s accelerating heartbeat as she prepared to step through and leave this place behind. They had to go now, her and her one ally. She couldn’t get above one ally these days. It was better than none.

“Yet,” Sylvie agreed.

—

Meanwhile in Jet Ski Land…

“That’s why I always felt such an affinity for that Earth actor,” Mobius said. “I am Owen Wilson. Or was.”

He dug his bare toes deeper into the slightly rocky beach and watched the slow wash of trash along the shore. It was almost nice here, but not quite. Not a place to stay. Everything inside him had already been screaming that. A lifelong (in this life, anyway) bureaucrat, he’d never felt such restlessness.

“Am… was… what does it matter?” the man next to him asked rhetorically.

He was also Mobius. No, Mobius was him. No, that wasn’t right, they were both Owen Wilson. Variants of him. But this man had shaggy blond hair where Mobius had been grey for as long as he could remember. Also, he appeared to be the only Owen Wilson in sight who had a mustache and he was a little proud of that. Probably stupidly, but it was helping him hold on to his sense of identity in the presence of so many hims.

They were on the beach around him, sitting in the dunes behind him, swimming in the water in front of him. One of the Owens was freaking parasailing through the air up above while another Owen drove the boat that towed him.

“How long have you guys been here?” Mobius asked in awe.

“You know, it’s hard to say,” Owen said, folding his arms thoughtfully. “It’s tough to figure out exactly how time flows here. A little like what you were describing, with your experience at the TVA.”

“Have you gotten to know everybody?”

“Oh yeah, they’re good guys. And all of us Owens are naturally social.”

“What about that one?” Mobius asked, pointing. He could hear the raw admiration in his own voice as the geriatric Owen he’d indicated revved his jet ski, bouncing over the low swells of the turquoise water.

“One of our actors. He was in the middle of filming a movie in Indonesia before he ended up here. Played an international, jet ski-riding spy in sort of a buddy comedy. Eighty-three years old and still a star.”

“What? That sounds incredible! What the heck happened?”

“Well,” Owen told him with a grimace, “the tsunami of 2051.”

“Right,” Mobius said, recalling the list of 21st-century apocalyptic events he and Loki had so recently sifted through together.

“He wasn’t supposed to survive the wave. The film crew had tethered him to the jet ski for safety while they were shooting and, as far as Owen can guess, that should’ve been enough to kill him. That’s what the TVA was counting on. They had to bring him in when he didn’t drown.”

“What a story though! That old Owen is one tough nut!”

“I know!” Owen gushed proudly.

Mobius shook his head in amazement, scanning the water. His gaze landed on something he couldn’t immediately understand.

“And what’s that?” he asked.

“That’s jet-ski Owen.”

“I thought the old guy was jet-ski Owen.”

“Nah, that one’s Owen on a jet ski. This one’s Owen as a jet ski.”

The riderless craft surged across the water until the speed had its front end lifting high off the surface. With a glorious final burst, it escaped the water entirely, executing a barrel roll in midair before touching down once more.

Mobius felt the praise leave his own lips and heard it echoed up and down the beach by all other versions of Owen Wilson in attendance: “Wow.”

#my writing #Loki #Loki spoilers #Ravonna Lexus Renslayer #Ravonna Renslayer #Sylvie #Hunter B-15 #Agent Mobius #Mobius M. Mobius

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ryukoishida · 4 years ago

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QianQiu/Thousand Autumns Fic: [Ch. 2] In which teacher!SQ and mafia leader!YWS talk for the first time.

Title: You’re a Problem I Encounter Fandom: Qian Qiu / Thousand Autumns Characters/Ships: YanShen Rating: NSFW eventually Chapter: 2/? Summary: Yan Wushi was the proud leader of Huan Yue Group, one of the most influential syndicates in the underground world, who wanted nothing more than to see the world burn. His accidental encounter with the pure-hearted school teacher Shen Qiao was a problem he didn’t expect to get entangled in. A/N: No more touching this fic until I’m done with the finals T.T List of Chapters: [1] [2] [3]

ii. No Saint

It was pitch black when Shen Qiao woke up. He blinked once, twice – endless black, deeper than the night — his breath stuttering in his throat and heart thudding against his ribcage in that strangely familiar, bitter taste of terror: the inability to perceive light, the anxiety of facing the unknown.

“You’re finally awake?”

A deep voice entered his consciousness like distant thunder, rumbling with warmth yet charged with danger.

A light to his left blinked on, cold white fluorescent flooded his peripheral vision and made Shen Qiao’s eyes sting from the sudden brightness. When his pupils adjusted to the light at last, he was able to make out a fuzzy outline of someone sitting by his bedside. The figure was mostly cast in shadow, but even in the best lighting, it would have been impossible for him to see anything further than half an arm’s length with any semblance of crisp clarity.

Driven by habit, Shen Qiao began to reach blindly to the side for his spectacles, which, of course were not there.

“Looking for these?” the man with the same deep, baritone voice asked, placing a piece of mangled metal that used to be his glasses into his hand.

Feeling the warped titanium remnants with his fingers, Shen Qiao heaved a soft sigh. He knew there was no way these could be repaired, so he’d have to endure the inconvenience of blurry vision until he could get new glasses or get his hands on some contact lenses, which had long fallen out during his rough scuffle with He Huan Group’s people.

Not that it was anything new – the cloudy eyesight – since he’d spent most of his childhood with his eyes in even worse state until he was in his early teens when Qi Fengge persuaded him to undergo surgery, which had improved his ability to see if only just slightly.

Wandering in his own thoughts though never allowing himself to be defenseless in an unfamiliar environment, Shen Qiao suddenly sensed more than heard the stranger invading his personal space – the surrounding air becoming too hot from the man’s exhale and body heat, too stifling from how close and physically intimidating the man’s presence exuded, looming over him like a hunter anticipating the taste of its prey — and Shen Qiao tried to back up as best as he could, given how parts of his body were too numb from sleep or too painful from the fight to move promptly.

The man chuckled but didn’t advance further upon seeing Shen Qiao trying to shuffle back to keep his distance.

“Are you sure you should be moving around like that?” the man sat back down in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he continued to observe the injured man with an interested gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

Ever the polite gentleman, Shen Qiao realized that he was acting quite rude to the person who’d rescued him from a terrible situation that he very likely wasn’t going to get out of by himself. Still, his delicate frame, warm hazel eyes, gentle smiles, and soft-spoken nature all contributed to a first impression of a man who was agreeable and amiable, maybe even somewhat unassuming to the point of foolish naiveté, yet those who’d been acquainted with him long enough knew that beneath his kind and considerate disposition was someone constructed of steel bones and unyielding morals.

There was a reason why he was known to be an anomaly in the underground world, crawling with all sorts of criminals and infested with coldblooded monsters that found thrills in destruction and the fall of humanity. Shen Qiao was the adopted son of a once-famed assassin Qi Fengge, who’d retired for the last decade now but had since headed one of the largest and most formidable assassin organizations that employed the best professionals good money could hire.

“You’re a funny one,” the man commented, hint of amusement seeping into his voice. “What are you sorry for?”

“I just… don’t like it when people I don’t know well get too close to me,” Shen Qiao explained quietly, his body visibly relaxed a little once he knew the stranger had backed off. “I did not mean to be disrespectful to someone who’d saved my life.”

When the stranger didn’t immediately respond, Shen Qiao continued with hesitation, “may I know the name of my savior?”

“Yan Wushi.”

He seemed content enough to offer that, at least.

“Leader of Huan Yue Group?”

Shen Qiao’s slight frown didn’t go unnoticed by the ever-observant mafia leader.

“You’ve heard of me?” Yan Wushi leaned in just a degree.

“My father had told me about you.”

Also, Shen Qiao didn’t think it was a good idea to say it out loud, but he knew that in recent years, Yan Wushi – and really, all of Huan Yue Group – was infamous for being gutsy enough to be striding the border between the criminal world and the political sphere, and still benefit greatly from both.

“All good things, I hope.”

“Huan Yue Group mixes with government officials – specifically Yuwen Yong’s faction – and gets on their good side either by offering them financial assistance under the table or getting rid of any political opponents that stand in Yuwen Yong’s way through any means possible,” Shen Qiao recited the information like he was memorizing it from a textbook.

“It’s a mutually beneficial relationship,” Yan Wushi admitted.

Shen Qiao’s frown deepened when he continued, “several deaths and disappearances had been suspected to be connected to members of Huan Yue, but the police never found any solid evidence to arrest or lay charges on anyone.”

“You can’t possibly blame us for the police department’s incompetence. And here I thought you’re blissfully ignorant of how our side works,” one corner of Yan Wushi’s lips twisted upwards, his interest in this frail-looking man had been elevated from indifference to modest curiosity. “It seems Qi Fengge had taught you the basics after all, despite the fact that you’re not expected to be his successor. Fascinating.”

“Father simply didn’t wish for me to be completely uninformed,” Shen Qiao exhaled, letting his eyes fall close as if he’d suddenly become too tired. “Having knowledge is a kind of advantage, though it may not seem like it at the time. I didn’t want to take over the family business, and father respected my decision, but he said even if I have no desire to work underground, the underground world will still find its way to catch up to me eventually. He was right, of course.”

He sounded exhausted, like he’d been running and escaping for years, and every time he thought he’d gotten ahead of the bloody claws of the clandestine world, it came at him snarling with gaping jaws, a cruel reminder that no matter how far he thought he’d gotten away, no matter how hard he’d convinced himself that he wasn’t part of the bloodthirst and violence, the mere fact that he was the son of Qi Fengge, the prodigious assassin’s greatest strength and weakest link, had already sealed him to a certain fate.

Shen Qiao loved and respected Qi Fengge. When Qi Fengge found him beaten and half-starving on the street and took him in one rainy night, five-year-old Shen Qiao would have never thought he’d feel the warmth of family and safety of a home again after he’d lost his parents.

He wanted to repay Qi Fengge in any way he could, but when he was old enough to finally understand what kind of organization Xuan Du was and what Qi Fengge’s real identity entailed, Shen Qiao was torn: he could – no, should – accept the position, train hard to become Qi Fengge’s next successor, and take over Xuan Du and its commitment to only execute those who were deserving of it, if only for the sake of doing what he could to show his gratitude towards his adopted father, yet his righteous moral compass and absolute belief in humanity’s good nature – borne from his education and the teachings of his father – forced him to make one of the most difficult decisions in his life.

It was ironic, how the assassination group operated under Qi Fengge’s guidance: Xuan Du Group only accepted jobs whose targets were beyond anyone’s saving and the victims’ families’ reconciling, their crimes numerous or excessive, their sins unpardonable. But who were counting the number of lives taken away by the hands of Xuan Du’s assassins?

Yan Wushi’s baritone voice pulled Shen Qiao back to the present.

“Everyone says the adopted son of Qi Fengge is different – refined, pristine, pure-hearted, a white water lily untainted by the dirty muck that brought him up,” Yan Wushi watched him closely for any flicker of emotion, “but I don’t believe that a person can truly remain unaffected by the surrounding environment.”

Yan Wushi moved so swiftly that there was no way Shen Qiao could have dodged in his current condition, so when he felt strong fingers gripping his chin and forcing him in place while the mafia leader hovered close – terrifyingly close, breaths hot and vivid against Shen Qiao’s own lips – and the other arm trapping the injured man between himself and the wall, Shen Qiao froze, eyes wide open and the only thing he perceived was Yan Wushi’s eyes.

Dark brown, but almost glowing with the rusted red of blood.

“You’re exactly the type of people I’d like to see battered and broken.”

Shen Qiao swallowed, silently willing himself in his mind to keep calm, and when he was certain his voice wouldn’t shake, he asked while maintaining their shared gaze, “then why did you save me?”

A short pause as Yan Wushi regarded the composed expression on Shen Qiao’s face, and then he barked out a laugh, roughly letting go of the other man and stepping back.

“Don’t think too highly of me, Shen Qiao. I’m certainly no saint. You were in Sang Jingxing’s possession, and I just happen to hate that man and want to fuck with him. Besides, I enjoy having people owe me.”

From this distance, Shen Qiao couldn’t see Yan Wushi’s facial expression, but years of living with vision disability meant that he’d trained his ears to pick up on the smallest nuances in the rise and fall of a person’s voice. He could almost picture the man uttering the last phrase with a snide grin.

“Regardless, I’m grateful for what you’ve done,” Shen Qiao lowered his head in a nod of thanks, “if there’s anything I can do in return in the future, please let me know.”

“Anything?”

Shen Qiao could practically hear the smile in that purr.

“Anything within the legal and ethical realm,” Shen Qiao corrected calmly.

#qian qiu #thousand autumns #yanshen #yan wushi #shen qiao #bowie's crappy writing

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sullustangin · 3 years ago

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Fictober Prompt 3: “I've waited for this."

Fandom: DCAU (Dini/Timmverse)

Rating: PG

“….I’ve waited for this. And I don’t know if I actually want to open it now.” Tim stared down at the thick envelope in his hands.

“You don’t have to, Timothy,” Alfred reassured him.

The young man frowned. “But the answer is right here. And I’ve wondered for so long…” He gave the envelope a hard squeeze with his left hand as his right ripped the short end of it right off in one quick motion.

Bruce and Alfred exchanged a look and resigned themselves to waiting as Tim fished the results out of the envelope, letting the empty paper fall to the floor. He pulled four packets of paper apart from each other, eyes scanning the top line results of each one in rapid succession.

The verdict was rendered. “Nothing. No matches.” Tim frowned deeply. “I… don’t know how to feel about that.”

Bruce uncrossed his arms. “The WayneTech grants just kicked in this past year. I’m sure all four departments have a massive case backlog. You may have to wait another year or two, but that doesn’t mean –”

“But I don’t know if I want her to be found like this. Don’t want her to end up like… but then –” Tim shook his head, dropped both the envelope and its contents, and made a break for the stairs.

Alfred went to follow him, but Bruce gently put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “Let him go, for now.”

“…I’m guessing this isn’t about getting accepted to college, right?” Both men turned to see Dick emerging from sitting room, where the grandfather clock door to the Batcave stood.

Bruce remembered belatedly that Nightwing had needed to do some work on his bike, discreetly. “No, it’s not,” he said tiredly as Dick stooped down to gather up the remains of Tim’s correspondence.

He didn’t object when Dick’s curiosity got the better of him. “DNA results? Why --?”

“College. Legal questions. We started on this last year, so we can resolve it, but … Tim wanted a final answer on a few things, and he’s not getting it. Not yet,” Bruce amended.

Dick made a face and turned to Alfred. “Translation?”

“Master Timothy’s mother,” Alfred started, and Dick’s expression turned from sour to understanding as the butler continued. “Mrs. Drake bought a bus ticket to Central City when he was five. Nobody has heard from her since.”

“When Batman looked into the security tapes -- because Tim wanted to know – Mrs. Drake didn’t get off at Central City Bus Station. She got on the bus, but she never got off.” Bruce filled in the rest as he looked up the stairs, making sure Tim wasn’t listening in.

A line formed on Dick’s forehead. “You sure she caught the bus in that direction? Maybe she bought two tickets to throw off her old man, and she went in the opposite direction, toward Bludhaven or –”

Bruce reached over and tapped each of the packets. “Gotham PD, Bludhaven PD, Central City PD, and even Metropolis PD. Cold case evidence lockers. WayneTech funded a grant to test all outstanding evidence as part of its women’s social justice initiative.”

“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? That she’s not dead. Or in custody.” A smile had started to form, but as Dick thought it all through, the expression faded. “But then where is she? And why hasn’t she --?”

“Yeah. Shifty Drake had told Tim she left both of them – you can guess how those sorts of conversations went. Tim asked about the story about a year ago. I found the tapes. Watched them to see where she went in Central City…” Bruce shook his head. “Now he has questions that have no happy answers.

“And not knowing is its own special hell.”

Alfred quietly took the paperwork from Dick and set to file it away in the kitchen, for another day.

#fictober21 #dcau #dcau fan fiction #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #Alfred Pennyworth #oh hey dcau #some of you are finally getting the content you followed for

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shifty-looking-sheep · 4 years ago

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard Characters: Female Shepard (Mass Effect), Kaidan Alenko, Ashley Williams, Conrad Verner Additional Tags: Mass Effect 1, Fluff, Embarrassment, Teasing, acknowledging feelings, blurting out feelings

Summary:

Kaidan tries to deal with the most embarrassing moment of his adult life, and Ashley tries to make it difficult.

“The Council represents more races than I thought. No wonder they’re careful with newcomers.”

Shepard looked out over the ward arm, awe and fascination shining from her face as the lights of the buildings, skycars, and stars reflected in her eyes. Kaidan quickly looked away as he caught himself staring.

“They probably just want to keep everything running,” Kaidan reasoned. “It has to be hard keeping all these cultures working together.”

Ash quietly snorted. “Or maybe they just don’t like humans.”

Kaidan got ready to jump in with something diplomatic, but Shepard got there first.

“Why not? We’ve got oceans, beautiful women, this emotion called love…” Shepard said, smiling, as she looked back across the ward arms. Kaidan turned to look at her face in profile, etching the silhouette into his brain. “According to the old vids, we’ve got everything they want.”

From someone else, he might have thought it a sarcastic comment; frustrated, almost. But her tone seemed sincere, and her introspective smile made him think she was genuinely hopeful. That was… unexpected.

“When you put it that way,” he said, playfully, “there’s no reason they wouldn’t like you… I mean, us! Humans! … Ma’am…”

Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit! What had just tumbled out of his mouth? The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he looked over at Shepard, but his view was blocked by Ash, whose look of surprise quickly turned to mischievous glee. He speedily looked away in excruciating embarrassment.

“You don’t take much shore leave do you, LT?”

The mirth in Ashley's voice prompted him to screw his eyes shut, thoroughly humiliated and wishing he was literally anywhere else. It was that very specific feeling of self-loathing when the wrongness of something you’ve just said is wedged in your gut. What a complete and utter idiot! Had he honestly just implied, to his CO’s face, that he thought she was beautiful? He felt like a college freshman accidentally letting slip that he had a crush on his professor. To his professor. First, he activates some ancient beacon on Eden Prime, and she has to throw him out of the way, and now he admits he thinks she’s beautiful. He’ll be lucky if he’s not transferred off the Normandy by the end of the Citadel’s day cycle. Or worse, the butt of every joke made in the Normandy mess for the remainder of the mission. He can hear them now: Seems Alenko likes powerful women – surprised he hasn’t made a move on the Dalatrass; Is it just Shepard he’s interested in, or does he chase after anyone with a Star of Terra? What’s Alenko’s favourite sexual position? – CO.

“Alright, laugh it up, Chief,” Shepard said, ever so slightly admonishingly. She turned to Kaidan and he tried to read her expression and failed. Entirely neutral commander-face, but not without empathy.

“I appreciate the thought, Alenko, but we’re on duty here.”

“Aaa…” he paused. She appreciates the thought?! What did that mean?! She appreciates a compliment, or she appreciates a compliment from him? No, for god’s sake he needed to pull himself together and move on from this hiccup. He’d just mortified himself with a Freudian slip; this wasn’t the time to start reading into every word Shepard said. He needed a total reset. She wasn’t a romantic prospect; she was his boss. Mind on the mission, Lieutenant.

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” he managed to croak out, feeling a blush rising to his cheeks.

He heard Ash fighting back a laugh. “I’ll walk drag, ma’am.”

He opened his eyes to glare at her, but she just waggled her eyebrows in response. Thankfully Shepard didn’t see it, and didn’t respond to Ash’s jibe. He didn’t know if he’d expected her to. In their only real conversation so far, Shepard had been friendly and sincere, if a little… detached? Self-conscious of her new rank, perhaps? This had been her first time as an XO, and then promoted to CO almost immediately, so perhaps she wasn’t sure how familiar to be with her officers? Anderson hadn’t exactly been a stickler for protocol and rank, but he’d probably have chewed the Chief out for a comment like that. Perhaps Shepard found Kaidan's slip-up funny as well, but he suspected she just had a higher tolerance for a little off-topic chat than most commanding officers.

The Commander had already turned and was making her way across the walkway to the market area. She was striding purposefully, but not overly quickly. Her earlier comments about the Citadel seemed to imply that this was her first visit, and despite there being a job for them to do, she was still a tourist. He caught her turn to look at a group who were chatting near the entrance to a club: two elcor, two asari and a volus. It wasn’t a stare; just a curious glance. Interested in alien culture then? Or simply not been around so many different races before?

He was pulled out of his musings by the sound of giggling over his left shoulder, and he turned to see Ash’s grinning face shaking back and forth.

Kaidan’s face flushed an even deeper scarlet. He’d been staring again, and now that Ash was on to him, he needed to get it together.

No! Not ‘on to him’. There was nothing to be ‘on to’. He didn’t have a crush on Shepard. He was 32; he didn’t have inappropriate crushes like a 20-year-old. He was just dispassionately interested in an interesting person. It made sense to learn as much as you could about your CO, right? It would help him work with her on the battlefield; be able to anticipate her movements. And knowing something about her background and values would allow him to anticipate what she’d likely prioritise, what advice she’d appreciate, how he could best support her…

So far, she’d been a little difficult to read. Anderson had been an open book; his service history told the story of a driven soldier and born leader. Beloved by those under his command, and promoted steadily through hard work and frequent commendations. He kept an appropriate, professional distance from the rest of the crew; didn’t give personal details but radiated a warmth and genuine friendliness that made you feel like you knew him. He made his expectations of the crew very clear and was a straight-shooter. Clearly not a political man. A soldier’s soldier.

But Shepard… he couldn’t tell yet. She’d been round the ship talking to everyone already; learnt names; checked on everyone after Eden Prime. So, caring then. But she also hadn’t really said anything about herself, and her demeanour was entirely unreadable. Not stony; certainly not icy, but not exactly open either.

He’d looked up her service history when he’d joined the Normandy, since he wanted to know who he was working for. Unlike Anderson’s, hers was a little harder to decipher. She’d joined the Alliance early, excelled in combat training, had a number of commendations from various high-profile missions: she'd kept her CO alive during a raid on a red-sand smuggling base out in the Terminus; single-handedly held off the smugglers until the extraction team could make it to them. It’s the sort of stuff the Alliance made a big song and dance about; they obviously had after her heroics on Elysium. But this earlier heroic moment seemed to have slipped under the radar. Maybe Shepard hadn’t wanted to be made the centre of a media circus? It would have taken a strong will to have denied the Alliance’s media department a new poster girl. The thought made him smirk.

“Seriously, LT?” Ash whispered. “You made it about five minutes there before you got that goofy heart-eyes look again. I feel bad teasing you about it; it’s too easy to be fun.”

He gave her a look he hoped was serious and annoyed enough to put an end to it. He was technically her superior officer, after all. She didn’t seem deterred though, meeting his look head on with a satisfied smirk.

Had he really gone back to thinking about Shepard so quickly? Maybe Ashley had a point. Shit. This was bad.

While he’d been in his head trying to rationalise his now undeniable fascination with his CO, Kaidan hadn’t noticed that they’d made a detour past the group of aliens and up towards the club: ‘Flux’, the sign read. The sound of bass and chat reached them from down the corridor, but not too loud. It seemed that this early in the day it was mostly gamblers and drinkers rather than the partying crowd.

They made it through the doorway into a fairly small bar area. Shepard started looking around, then stopped as her eyes lighted on the bartender who was waving her over. Kaidan and Ash held back by the doors; there was little fear of a fight breaking out somewhere as public as this, and stomping around a bar in full combat armour toting several different guns apiece didn’t tend to make the punters comfortable. A few had already given them some looks ranging from mildly curious to extremely worried.

“So, this is an interesting development.”

Ash was looking at him and smiling, but not unkindly. He crossed his arms, then uncrossed them, fidgeting with them at his sides before deciding to cross them again. This topic didn’t need to make him feel nervous; he just needed to convince the Chief that it had been a simple slip-of-the-tongue, and they could move on and away from his humiliation.

Ash leaned in conspiratorially. “For what it’s worth, I think you two would be cute together. And your kids would be gorgeous!”

He groaned, and put his hand to his forehead. He could feel a headache coming on.

“It’s not… I don’t... I mean...”

Ashley raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look. “Hmmm, sure.”

Kaidan sighed. “Buy you a drink if you promise not to tell anyone on the Normandy about my foot-in-mouth disease.”

“Oooo, I don’t know about that, LT. I might need to be a pretty fancy cocktail to buy my silence.”

“Worth it.”

It would have to wait for another time though, as Shepard was making her way back to them at the doors. They followed along behind her as they made their way back down the corridor.

“We need to drop by a club called Chora's Den after we’re done with Chorban,” she sighed. “The bartender’s sister is a C-Sec informant, and it looks like she might be in trouble. It’ll give us a chance to drop in on this ‘Fist’ character as well.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Ash and Kaidan replied in unison.

They approached the far end of the walkway and started making their way across the upper market. If their informant was correct, Chorban should be in the lower market. They had no idea what to expect, but he could well be armed and dangerous. Kaidan didn’t like meeting in such a public and crowded place, but he trusted Shepard’s judgement that she could fix this with diplomacy. As they peeled their way through the crowd, Kaidan clocked someone at the top of the stairs looking in their direction. Human, male, possibly in his late 40s, and eyes fixed on Shepard. Kaidan put his hand on his sidearm.

“Wow! It’s you!”

The man waved and took a step forward, partially blocking their way down the stairs. Shepard’s shoulders tensed, but she walked over to the man without taking a defensive posture. Kaidan’s hand remained on his pistol.

“You’re Commander Shepard!” the man said, in a voice dripping in sycophantic joy. “The hero of Eden Prime! I am so honoured to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you.” Shepard shook the man’s hand firmly, a slightly forced smile on her face but a friendly tone to her voice. Kaidan guessed this wasn’t the first time this had happened, considering how high-profile she was. “And you are…?”

“My name is Conrad. Conrad Verner. They say you killed more than a hundred geth on Eden Prime!”

The man didn’t seem like a threat, and Kaidan relaxed a little, but he didn’t like the desperation in his voice, or the dark feeling of dislike he immediately felt for this man.

Shepard shrugged. “I spent most of the time trying to stay alive and help the colonists.”

Conrad nodded, but in that way that makes it seem like you didn’t hear anything the person just said. Kaidan glanced at the time on his omnitool. This wasn’t really a distraction they needed just before they walked into what could be a firefight.

“Hey, I know you’re pretty busy,” Conrad said, “but do you have time for a quick autograph?”

Shepard seemed a little embarrassed, as a slight blush coloured the side of her cheek. Her skin was already a warm coffee-colour, but with the blush she looked… stunning.

Ash leaned in close enough to whisper without the Commander overhearing. “How does it feel to see the competition. For my money, I think you probably have the edge.”

Kaidan turned his shocked intake of breath into a cough, and looked daggers at Ashley. Again. But then, she’d also got him pegged: he had felt the tiniest spark of jealousy. What was happening to him?!

Shepard had just finished signing the datapad that Conrad had pressed into her hands, and handed it back with a smile.

“Anything for a fan. Here.”

“Thanks,” Conrad said, his eyes out on stalks as he stared at the datapad. “I really appreciate it. My… wife is going to be so impressed.”

Ash rolled her eyes.

“I’ll let you get back to work, but next time you’re on Earth, I’d love to buy you a drink. Thanks again!”

Kaidan followed the Commander towards the stairs down to the lower markets, as Conrad walked in the other direction. Ash was typing something on her omnitool, and Kaidan got the ping of a message a moment later.

Figure you’re going to be that guy in 20 years?

Kaidan swung from feeling angry to simply contrite. Kicking up a fuss about a joke was never a good look, particularly if you wanted the joke to go away. And it needed to go away, because if it had been so immediately obvious to Ashley every time he’d unconsciously stared at the Commander, the others were going to see it to; especially if they were primed to look for it. This couldn’t go further than Ash.

He doesn’t have my bone structure.

The Chief barked a little laugh, and Shepard gave her a curious glance, but they continued walking in silence.

As they rounded the corner and entered the lower markets, they could see Chorban up ahead, flanked by some heavily-armed salarian bodyguards. Shepard walked up to him with that same purposeful march, seemingly unperturbed by the heavies. Ash had unholstered her rifle, and was holding it across her body, and Kaidan created a weak biotic barrier around himself, just to let the goons know what they were up against if they decided to attack. They both looked considerably more nervous after taking in Kaidan and Ashley’s preparations.

Shepard was listening to Chorban and asking pointed questions, trying to calmly get to the bottom of what sounded like a ridiculous miscommunication got completely out of hand. She was so direct, authoritative, but not pushy or intimidating. Chorban spilled his guts.

Before Kaidan could really process what was being said, Shepard was already moving away and towards the elevator back up to the Presidium, but as she walked past Kaidan she caught him dropping his biotic barrier and did a little double-take. Odd; she’d seen him use his biotics several times on Eden Prime, but perhaps not that close. He knew his usually hazel eyes turned blue when he used his biotics, so maybe that’s what she’d seen. Her eyes had met his and flown wide before she'd quickly looked away.

As they entered the elevator, she turned around as he walked in, and again she met his eyes and then snapped away. Was that… embarrassment? She was blushing, and it had been several minutes since the autograph incident, so it didn’t seem likely that it was still from that. What was she thinking about?

As the elevator doors closed, Kaidan’s mind was whirring away at light speed. He recalled how she’d got slightly flustered when speaking to him in the med-bay after Eden Prime. After he’d said he carried her back to the ship. No, he shouldn’t read too much into it. Indulging in some puppy-love fantasy about his CO couldn’t lead anywhere good. He got another ping on his omnitool.

Hmmm. Seems you’re not the only one nursing a crush, LT.

As he looked at Ashley, she shrugged and nodded towards Shepard’s back, as she was awkwardly crossing and uncrossing her arms. A reflex he knew well.

It threw a tiny piece of kindling onto the flame he’d spent the last half an hour or so trying to starve of oxygen. He was going to need to buy Ash an insane number of cocktails to get her to keep all this quiet… but the idea that there was something to keep quiet, something real, made his stomach do a backflip.

“Disgusting,” Ash whispered, but this time he didn’t object, he just smiled a little bit wider.

Yup, a shitload of cocktails.

Notes:

I haven't been writing very long, and I REALLY want to improve; if you do have any constructive criticism, it would absolutely be welcomed and I would be really grateful 😁

#mass effect fanfiction #mass effect original trilogy appreciation #mass effect 1 #f!shenko #kaidan alenko #ashley williams #conrad verner #very fluffy nonsense

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s-creations · 3 years ago

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Return the Flames - Chapter 14

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time Rating: General Audience Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

Author’s Note: This is the final chapter for this story, but don’t fret! I have three sequel stories currently in the work for this AU. So there’s a lot more to explore with this pairing and story. Thank you so much for reading this!

It wasn’t cold…

It wasn’t warm…

It wasn’t bright…

It wasn’t dark…

Amos wasn’t fully sure where he really was. All he knew was, after touching that feather, he woke up here. Floating in...nothing. He wasn’t even sure where he was or how long he’d been there. Wherever ‘there’ was. Just floating in nothing. Unsure of what he was supposed to do.

Just as he felt himself going insane with nothing happening, Amos jumped in surprise when a bright light appeared before him. Warmth hitting him after so long. It was inviting, Amos started to move forward. Desperate for something else besides this nothingness that he’d known for what seemed like forever.

“Amos!”

He paused. He knew that voice. It sounded so...desperate. So sad. Why did it sound so sad?

“Amos, please come back… I need you to come back…”

Looking around, Amos was shocked to find the Moon lying below him. Glowing softly, almost gently compared to the harsh light above him. The heat is almost unbearable. Even more so compared to the calming cool. Without a second thought, he started to move towards it instead. Easily landing on the soft surface with a plume of dust being created at his feet.

It was comfortable, calming, on the surface. Amos somehow knew this was where he was supposed to be. That the light above was going to be the end of everything. Quite literally everything. The moon, somehow, feels like home.

“...Dominic?”

It was uncomfortably hot. Amos finding it very stupid that someone had decided to drap a blanket over him. He let out a low groan as he slowly sat up. Whipping the blanket off and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What the peck happened…” Rubbing his forehead, Amos took his surroundings in. Quickly realizing he was back in the medical hut.

He was only able to have a few seconds to himself before the blanket in the doorway was pushed aside. Light spilled into the small hut as Dominic stepped through carrying a tray with food and water on it. His eyes on the ground with his posture showing nothing but defeat. The penguin, lifting his gaze up from the flattened dirt, froze upon realizing Amos was awake. Both starting each other down, Dominic looking absolutely stunned.

“...Uh… Mornin’?” Amos flinched when Dominic dropped the tray. All items break when they hit the ground. The owl had no time to recover or comment before Dominic kissed him. Full of desperation and want pushed into the action, Amos’ gripping onto Dominic’s shoulders to ground himself. The moment ended when the penguin pulled away and smacked his arm.

“Ow! What the peck was that for?”

“For being an absolute idiot! A peck neck if you will. You...scared me. Everything that is holy and decent Amos, you… I thought you were pecking dead.”

“I…” The owl frowned, fully taking Dominic in. The penguin looked absolutely exhausted. Hair disheveled, signature sunglasses off to reveal deep bags under his eyes, feathers unkempt. In all honesty, Dominic looked dead on his feet and the worst Amos had ever seen him. “How long have I been out?”

“...5 days.”

Amos swallowed weakly. “Oh… Do ya think everyone at home thinks we’re both dead?”

“You absolute peck neck.” Dominic laughed softly, sitting down next to the owl. “...How are you feeling?”

With the initial shock now wearing off, Amos realized the fire from within was… Well, it wasn’t as strong as it was before. He could still feel it burning. But he wasn’t in pain nor did he feel as if the power was going to flare up. After so many years, he felt as if he was the one in control of the burning power.

“Better...far better… The C.A.W. agents?”

“Ah, well, the majority of them fled…”

“Do I want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“Alright…” Amos let out a weak sigh, leaning against Dominic. “Do we just...go home?”

The penguin laughed again. “Don’t make it all sound so anticlimactic!”

“A near death experience wasn’t good enough? Can’t we just have one peaceful moment that doesn’t lead to almost disaster?”

The Elder walked in to find both birds clinging at each other while laughing hysterically. “I suppose this is where you release that built up energy. You seem to be doing well Amos.”

“I believe I’ve earned my ‘oh-my-peck-I-survived’ hysterical laugh.” The owl teased back.

“That is a fair assessment. All joking aside however, how are you feeling?”

“Better than I have in years.”

After a more than thorough medical check up (Amos swears his tail feathers weren’t laying properly afterwards) they prepared to depart. Bakle was thrilled to see Amos was awake and well. The owl easily caught the young Nomad who had basically launched himself into Amos’ arms. The large father merely gave a hearty clap onto Amos’ shoulder. A silent indication to show he was happy the other was alive. As the rental car was being uncovered, the Elder gave the request to have the duo return next year.

“Do ya think I’ll be in that poor of shape again?” Amos asked.

“Oh no, far from it. But it would be a good measure to make this a yearly pilgrimage. To make sure you don’t reach such a dangerous level again.”

Supposed they couldn’t argue with that logic.

It wasn’t before long that they were back on the road, one final goodbye before they started heading home. While the road in the jungle was still just as bouncy as before, there was nothing heavy hanging over them. Amos wasn’t unconscious. There was (hopefully) no one hunting them down. Just a wobbly, silent ride back towards the paved road and then a straight shot back home.

“Oh boy.”

Amos was pulled away from his thoughts, turning away from his window to look at Dominic. “Oh boy?”

The penguin merely nodded before them. An uncomfortably familiar scene was put on the road. Numerous black cars were blocking their progress. Instead of crows however, there were a number of different beings standing by said cars. The closest was a large eagle. All wearing black suits and dark sunglasses.

“If we’re startin’ this peckin’ dance again…” Amos growled darkly.

“Calm down...let’s just see what this is.” Slowing their car to a stop, Dominic put it in park and climbed out. Amos follows behind closely. The eagle pushed away from their own car and met the duo halfway.

“Gentlemen.” The eagle nodded to them both. His voice was deep and commanding.

“Are...we in trouble?” Dominic cautiously asked.

“Far from it actually. Merely here to take your statement.”

Amos huffed. “And who the peck are ya.”

“Agent Mobus. Department of Mystical Operation.”

“Are you with C.A.W.” The penguin frowned.

Agent Mobus shifted and cleared his throat. “No. They are actually who we need a statement about.”

The duo gave a raised brow exchange before Dominic replied with, “Are you...associated with them, in any way?”

“Far from it. They are an organization that claims they’re tied with the government even when they’re not. They have the mindset that those who are...different need to be removed.”

“What is your philosophy in all of this?” Amos asked.

“We look to preserve and protect.”

“You did a peckin’ great job.”

“Amos.” Dominic quietly berated.

“No, he is correct to question our motives and our actions in this matter,” Agent Mobus replied, “We’re normally able to follow their course closely and intervene before C.A.W. can cause any real damage. We couldn’t understand their sudden change in destination. Until we were then told of the dinner burning down.”

Amos crossed his arms. “Not one o’ my finest moments.”

“It still took us a while to understand what they were going after.”

“Even after the dinner burnt down?”

Agent Mobus’ mouth twitched, as if holding back a smile. “You’ll have to understand. Phoenix’s are rare. Even more so when it’s a child of said creature. This is a situation that...well, has never happened.”

“So,” Dominic slowly began again, “what do you need from us?”

“Merely statements, or at least a few answers. Do you know where the C.A.W. agents are?”

“No, they fled when things became a bit...heated,” Dominic tried not to smirk when Amos glared daggers at him, “But I will say that one agent...didn’t survive.”

Amos turned away, frowning deeply at what that statement meant.

“Which one?” Agent Mobus asked.

“What I assume was their ringleader? He was the loudest out of all of them, that’s for sure.”

“Do you know at least the direction to which the rest of the agents ran off to?”

“No, sorry.”

“Very well. We’ll be in contact if we have further questions. Enjoy your trips home.” Agent Mobus turned to return back to his car.

“Wait, that’s it?” Amos questioned.

“What else were you expecting?”

“Being arrested?”

Agent Mobus sighed softly and faced them again. “I understand your concerns. But, you clearly have a solution to your ailment. Unless you start using your ability maliciously, there’s nothing we can ‘do’. Or even have anything to worry about. Until that day possibly comes, enjoy your drive home.”

Nothing else was said. The group of black cars driving off. Even then, the duo didn’t get back in until the cars disappeared over the horizon. They shared a look, said nothing themselves, and drove off.

It was strange traveling home. It only took about two days with no interruptions or possibility of death looming. They stopped to pick up food, take small breaks, and slept in the car when they couldn’t stay awake any longer. Hand clasped together as they moved forward.

It was a relief when they entered the city. Sure, Amos found the towers and tall apartments a little claustrophobic, but the familiar sight was still comforting. The roads leading them back to the studio. A silent agreement between them that, with the rising sun, it would just be best to go there right away.

No doubt their workers wanted to know right away they had finally returned.

The parking lot was full. Very opposite to how they had left it. Amos even spotted his daughter’s car parked in one of the closer spots. Dominic pulled into his assigned spot, both stepping out. Eyes traveling over the area, neither truly believing that they were standing where they were.

“Well...shall we go in?” Dominic looked over to Amos. Who gave a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah...let’s go in.”

Just as this entire trip, their hands connected and they entered into the busy studio.

1 Year Later

“And you will call me every step of the way. And no lying. I’m serious dad. You keep that cell phone on you at all times.”

Amos sighed softly but nodded to Amelia’s demands. Her eyes staring him down. “Aye, I will. Promise.”

Amelia, seemingly still unconvinced, looking over to Dominic. Who merely smiled back and nodded. “We’ll call.”

“Good,” she let out a small sigh with her shoulders relaxing, “Just be careful, please?”

Amos smiled softly, placing a gentle kiss on her brow, and they climbed into the car. The trunk was closed, two workers giving a wave before stepping away. The duo waves to all in the parking lot seeing them off. The duo waved to all in the parking lot as they left, the sun barely seen over the horizon and soon enough the city was far behind them.

As they exit the city, Amos pulls out a rolled up piece of parchment. One of the numerous that had been sent to them since last summer. Stories filling them from Bakle, the Elder, and many others in the small village. This final one being sent to inform the two that everything was ready for their arrival. “Think Bekal will like the present we got him?”

“Of course. Although, I’m sure he’ll just be excited to see us again.” Dominic commented. He reached over and took Amos’ hand. “How are you feeling, Sweetheart?”

Amos smiled back over, placing a kiss on the back of the penguin’s hand. “Absolutely perfect Darlin’.”

#A Hat In Time #discotrain #the conductor #dj grooves #ahit conductor #ahit dj grooves #s-creations #fanfiction #Multi-Chapter

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years ago

Text

Ghosts’ Journey (Part 2): The History of Chime Gen

Here it is... the whole thing. I wanted to cut it but there was no good place. I did my best with the translation. (FINGEL PLEASE SPEAK HUMAN) Because this is important information to the Chime/Ruri fandom the Content of his speech is nearly exactly as it is in the novel.

@rurifangirl By request

The plan was to wake up before him. You had learned from Z that Japanese men were conservative. You didn’t know each other. He was out of it. He might think you took advantage of him. That sort of thing happened in Black Swan.

But he was also human and humans needed touch. Z’s hug transformed you even more than Herzog’s laughter. You didn’t get any affectionate human touch as a child. You would give him that precious touch so his mind could heal. Or maybe you would give him that touch because you desperately needed it yourself. Maybe you gave it to Ruri because he could give it to you and not require anything in return as a doll-person.

These were the excuses you gave yourself until you fell asleep in his arms.

As soon as you opened your eyes and felt the sun coming through the small window, you realized that you failed your mission objective. Ruri was sitting up next to you while you lay on the pillow. He was looking out the window. His eyes were no longer empty, but they held no joy. They were still, without any spark.

Guilt makes you freeze momentarily. “If you wanna push me off the bed, you can.”

The words shocked him out of his reverie. He looked down at you with those dark eyes and you detected a strange hesitation. His eyes meet yours and shift away without any friction. “You can stay if you want,” he said in a soft melodic voice.

“Sorry. I meant to wake up before you. Are you… in any pain? Physically I mean. The rest is obvious.” You sit up and swing over the edge of the bed. Ugly black veins are pulsing up your feet. The dragon blood in your body was now showing up more permanently. You flexed your toes and tried to calm it.

“No.”

“Good.”

“I want to apologize to you. For making a promise I won’t be able to keep.” He said.

“And what promise was that?” In this light, Ruri Kazama was no star performer. He looked shockingly ordinary, able to blend in with the masses on the streets of Japan. You probably wouldn’t recognize him were it not for his long hair.

“All of them. It’s all a deception.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” You whisper, looking up at him seriously. On the one hand, it wouldn’t be the first time you were deceived by a man, but on the other hand, you personally understood the intense warping of the mind that came with being a child of Herzog.

“I made you believe that I was Ruri Kazama. That I had power and wealth. That I could lead the Devil Clan by defeating the King General.” He paused for a long time before whispering. “None of that was true.”

You shrug it off. “Okay. I’ll believe you. But you’ll have to understand that was not why I pursued you. And I’m sorry I gave you that impression. If anything, I have many more reasons to stick with you now.”

“The King General will kill you.” He said gravely.

“Not if Bondarev gets to me first.” You quip and smile but his sharp intense glare makes your smile falter a moment. You stare at each other unblinkingly for a moment. “Look. Don’t play this… ‘you need to stay away from me’ line.” You whisper, but your tone is kind. “I will be in danger no matter what. I should be dead by now. And every day I live is on borrowed time.”

You roll up your sleeves to show him the black veins beneath pale skin dotted with sparkling gold scales. “Can I at least have your company for the time I have left?”

Chime Gen gives a sad shake of his head. Maybe if he were in another state, he would have insisted and argued. But now he just gives up and hangs his head, his hair covering his face. When you reach out to brush it back, his hand catches yours and gently places it in your lap.

You bite the inside of your lip and fight your internal panic. He wasn’t feeling well. He had a humiliating and terrifying night. You’d seen him at his lowest. He was revealed to be nothing but a doll, a marionette whose strings had been cut. So of course your affection was painful.

“What do you want right now?” Your voice is flat and expressionless.

“Can you bring me that box?”

He points over to an ornate wooden box. It had a curved metal handle and a pot-like metal lid. It had a few small drawers and two hooks with which to carry a long narrow pipe. Ruri knew what to do when you brought it. He took the pipe from the box and then opened the drawer.

“Can you tell me about this?” You ask quietly.

“This is called a kiseru. It uses a special kind of tobacco. You won’t find it outside of Japan.” He pulls a wood box covered with hand written script on rice paper. The smell of the leaves reaches your nose. It was tobacco but it had a richer, almost meaty aroma.

“You just roll it in a ball between your fingers and put it into the pipe like this.” The pipe was narrow and very long but Chime was so practiced that he could roll the tobacco in one hand and hold the pipe in the other. He stuffed the pipe and you held out the open box of matches. He glances at you but you keep your face carefully neutral. He takes the box of matches from you and strikes one. He pauses for two seconds and lights the tobacco. There’s a small compartment in this box that he drops the spent match in.

You set the box at the end of the bed and then sit next to him. He inhales deep and breathes out a long smooth stream of white that swirls around his face like mist. It smelled different from Caesar’s cigars, not as sweet, but this was the smell on his clothing when you found Ruri Kazama in the rain, fleeing from the Hydra operatives.

“It… doesn’t bother you?”

You shake your head. “I like it.”

He hasn’t pushed you off the bed yet so you stay there and watch him smoke. His eyes and mind were far away, like he’d gone on a long journey. All you could do was wait for him to come back.

You weren’t at peace for long when you heard Caesar’s voice coming through the door. "Then, as the best journalist among us, this great task falls on your shoulders! Whether it's psyching him up or hanging him up and beating him, get the information about the King General out of his mouth." Caesar opened the door to your room and pushed Fingel inside, "We’ll go have breakfast first, and, hopefully, we'll hear good news from you when we return."

Apparently, all the boys were awake and in the hallway. Fingel stumbled in, locked eyes with you and then flailed. “Aaah! Sorry, I’m interrupting!”

“You’re not.” You say with a sly smile. “We just finished.”

Chime inhaled sharply and coughed.

You flinched. “Sorry. I… I say things like this. I’ll shut up now.” You turn back to Fingel and the others and beckon them in. Then you look around. “Sorry, there’s nowhere to sit!”

“I’ll get something, you sit right there.” Caesar’s eyes hold a sly little light.

Caesar returned with chairs and they all sat around the bed while Chime silently finished off his pipe. He looked incredibly peaceful and you calmed yourself inside that you’d done and said the right thing.

The silence lasted for nearly five minutes and you were impressed with the boys’ fortitude. True to character, Caesar broke first. He kicked Fingel and nodded sharply towards Ruri.

Fingel, looking a little nervous, cleared his throat, and prepared an opening statement: "You have the right to remain silent."

It took everything in you not to crack a smile, even though you were practiced. So you followed the joke up with a withering look of absolute disdain while you clenched your stomach and held your breath.

Chime gently exhaled a mouthful of smoke, and his face was submerged in it, shielding him like a veil: "I know what you want to ask, and I will tell you. But please don't rush to ask me. Let me take my time to figure it out, so that it will be more clear."

You swivel your head to look at him, immediately concerned. The simple humble request moved you more than any of Ruri Kazama’s quick-wittedness. His voice was speaking like a small tired soul out of a grave. His eyes were heavy with sadness.

"My current appearance surprises you guys, right? Actually, this is my actual appearance. Every time you see me, I have more or less put on makeup. Only some of the makeup is so good that you can't see it." Chime Gen thought for a long time before he spoke again, "I have the same face as my brother, but I am not as good-looking as my brother. It’s only after wearing makeup that I look like him.”

“When I was young, I always thought how nice it would be if I could be like my brother. He’s so perfect that people used to wonder how an insignificant person like me could be his brother. We both have been fatherless for as long as we can remember. No one can really prove that we are brothers. There were times when people said we didn't look alike, and I hid and cried. I was such a weak character as a child."

You squint, not understanding. How could Chime say Chisei was perfect if Chisei couldn’t see the truth if it was standing right in front of him? He still supported Tachibana after realizing that he was turning people into Deadpool and planning to awaken the Light king. You tried to help Chisei only because Chime asked you to. It was not Ruri Kazama who asked you to. It was Chime.

Chime turns to you, seeing the look in your eyes. “We both grew up in the mountains. There was only one middle school in that town and every girl in the school had a crush on my brother -- or, at least, that was what I always believed. He was the team leader in the kendo department and the team leader in the basketball club, and the girls loved to watch him sweat and practice his sword in the sunset. He was so focused, so intense, that even if there was a wall in front of him, he would break it down. So, even though he was so cold that he didn't even look at the girls, the girls kept sneaking glances at him, day after day after day. You may think that my bloodline is better than my brother's, so I'm stronger than him, but you're wrong. My brother's strength is not in bloodline, it's in his heart. He is the kind of man who will go forward once he has decided, and he will be able to achieve great things. For example, if he decides to be a friend of justice, he will be a friend of justice all his life.”

If it were anyone else saying those words, you would have a fiery response to that. His brutal murder of Chance was his decision and you couldn’t persuade him to stop. But who’s fault was that really? He only turned into that killer after Chance’s blood acted up. Before that, he was Chance’s protector. His Savior. He was going to let him go.

“I’m not going to ask you for your forgiveness.” Those words. Chisei had made his decision about Chance. But he was okay that you stayed upset with him about it. In your mind, you look at Chisei over the gap between you again and wonder if you should still hold out hope for him.

"My brother said he must work hard because we do not have parents. Only by hard work will we not be looked down upon.”

“He said he was going to take the entrance exam to Tokyo University and take me to Tokyo one day. I just hated that I was a useless brother, that I can't get into Tokyo University and that I can't help my brother. Everything my brother does is so that he and I can have dignity. I really wanted to be like my brother: a determined man, so that I could stand by his side and be considered his brother. But I was also a little jealous of my brother. Why is he the same as me, but he is so good and I am so weak, being called girly? But I never wanted to outshine my brother, I just wanted to be able to share a little bit of my brother's glory... just a little bit less than him.”

"Then Tachibana Masamune came to the mountain and he said that both my brother and I had excellent bloodlines, and he would take one of us to Tokyo to train, and the other would stay in the mountain. If the former was killed, the latter would be the replacement. He said we could never tell the outside world that there were two Gen Clan children, and that the Gen family did not need two heads. As a matter of course, my brother was taken away as the future head of the family and I was left behind. I was his shadow. I have been his faceless shadow all my life. So sometimes I hated him too.”

He glanced at you but you said nothing. Beneath his words, the viper Bondarev slid. You couldn’t know exactly where he was in this whole story. But he separated Chisei from Chime. Chisei said his brother was ‘probably dead’. Were those Tachibana’s words? So that Chisei wouldn’t visit him?

"It was then that I met the King General, and he appeared to me as a man wearing a Noh theater mask.”

“I grew up loving noh and kabuki and was curious about this man in a noh mask, but the King General didn't actually know how to perform noh, he just knew the human heart too well. He started by coaching my performance and got to know me gradually. He would always meet with me alone and asked me not to tell my brother or anyone else. I didn't tell my brother because everything in this world is my brother's. I wanted the King General to be my teacher alone, something truly mine. King would say he saw my potential. He said I am better than my brother.”

Your eyes slide to one side as you hear the song of the manipulation. With just Bondarev alone, you didn’t hear it though you suspected it. It wasn’t until you heard the play of both Bondarev and Herzog that the sound of it became clear that these boys were being double teamed. That said, you also realized that both of these boys were plagued with a strong sense of pride. While he readily admitted he didn’t want to outshine his brother, at the same time, Chime didn’t want to be too low. And when King General promised him greatness, he fell for it.

"It was like I was living in a fantasy during that time. Every night, King would wait for me in the mountains, and we would stroll along the mountain paths until the moon was in the middle of the sky. Under the stars, he explained to me the characters in the kabuki, and he gave me a strong drink which warmed my body. I was not tired even after walking with him all night in the mountains. Suddenly, one day I noticed a girl smiling at me shyly, with an expression I had never seen before. I was delighted at first, thinking I could learn that expression, but as I kept practicing that shy smile in the mirror, I realized why she was smiling at me like that; because I had become beautiful. My whole being looked like it was glowing.""

"That wine was mixed with evolutionary drugs?" Caesar asked.

“Yes, I am the only one in this world who swallowed that many evolutionary drugs without losing control of who I was. My own blood can restrain the evolutionary drugs' side-effects. My blood is more poisonous than evolutionary drugs." Chime said slyly.

"Sorry to interrupt you... Please continue." Caesar said.

Chime Gen nodded: "I can't remember the rest. Those memories are very vague, I only know that the Final Police Report said that the town's serial killings of female high school students were all caused by the same person. Because that person left, they closed the case."

"What does that mean?" Caesar did not understand.

"I killed a total of fourteen girls and turned their bodies into waxed human statues and placed them in the deepest basement of the school, where I sewed kabuki costumes for the dead and practiced imitating the women. This incident was considered by the Yakuza Hydra family to be a crime committed by a deadpool. So my brother was sent back to that town on a clean-up mission. That night I killed the fourteenth girl right before his eyes. He found me when I was in the basement preparing the corpse, dressed in women's clothing, singing."

Chime spoke softly, "I was stabbed through the heart by my brother. He threw my corpse into a deep well, locked the lid forever, and then buried the whole well. I think it was because I became the devil in his eyes and he was afraid that the devil might rise from the dead. Even if he had my body burned, he wouldn’t rest easy. He wanted to be able to see my bones, my body at the bottom.”

All of you shivered in unison, and the thing that was even more frightening than that atrocity was that Chime Gen talked about such bloody matters as if he were talking about another person, calm to the point of indifference.

"I know what you're thinking. You're wondering if I've gone crazy. Clearly, I killed so many people, but I talk about it as if those things have nothing to do with me. But I really don't think I killed those girls. During that time, I was having a nightmare, a nightmare in which I lived a happy life, in which my charm conquered every girl in the school. I finally wouldn't disgrace my brother. I asked them to go to the river to see the stars. They came shyly. I took their hands and they all accepted, and then I cut their throats with a knife. At their happiest moment. But their beautiful expressions weren’t preserved on their own. They were made into statues by me, so that I kept the most beautiful side of them. In the dream, I felt that there was nothing wrong with this. Until someone outside the dream was calling me, I suddenly realized that it was my brother who came back. My brother came home to see me. I suddenly turned around and came back to reality all of a sudden, but I didn't have time to hug my brother before I ran into his blade head-on.”

"When I woke up again, I was on a huge stage. There was a beam of light hitting me from above. I was wearing the clothes of The Great Maiden in the Clouds, with long hair and full makeup. I didn't have any wounds on my body, but the pain from being stabbed in the chest seemed to remain there. I was sitting on a gorgeous throne. And next to me stood various girls in Kabuki costumes, each one beautiful. It seemed like I had just taken a nap while my attendants waited for me to wake up. I suddenly couldn't tell reality from illusion. I felt like I was still in that basement full of corpses. I couldn't tell if the girls around me were living or dead. The girls and the members of the Devil Clan sitting on the stage applauded vigorously as if they had just watched a thrilling performance. The King announced to everyone that he had found the true successor to the Great Three Clans, and that was me, and that I would guide the Devil Clan into the future. Their faces ran with tears. I asked the King General what was real and what was not, and the King General simply said congratulations on the awakening of the Emperor."

"So you remember all these things, only you think some of them happened in a dream but some were reality?" Chu Zihang asked.

"Yes, the serial killing was like a dream to me. Everything in the dream was blurry. Only the faces of those girls and the moment I killed them were clear. In the dream, I seemed to become another person. Killing was not a terrible thing for me. It was a beauty. I would be ecstatic for the moment when the girl's dying smile had not completely faded, before despair and panic had appeared, and I would be excited to see the blood spilled." Chime Gen said, "But I look back on that state afterwards, especially when I think of all the dead bodies I had sung to in that damp basement, and I'm so scared and disgusted that I can't help vomiting every time."

"So you don't deny that you killed those girls?" Caesar said.

"I can't deny it, I remember every detail so clearly. If I didn't do it myself, who could have put those details into my head?" Chime Gen said, "It's as if there was an evil spirit hiding in my body. That evil spirit woke up and took control of me. The really gorgeous and charming part of me is that spirit. As for me, I'm just a mediocre person."

Lu Mingfei quietly shivered.

You sat still, not looking at anyone. Now your hair fell in front of you. Ruri was silent. You could see him watching you with a cold expression a moment before turning back to the window.

"Did he exchange anything with you?" Lu Mingfei asked cautiously, "I mean the evil spirit inside your body."

Chime Gen smiled indifferently, "I am not going to excuse myself. I am the evil spirit. The evil spirit is me. The evil spirit is another state of mine. It is one with me."

"That's why you hate King General so much, because it was the King General who drew out the evil spirit in your body. He went to the mountain to find you, in fact, to find the evil spirit in your body." Chu Zihang said.

"Yes, and I failed to resist his temptation. He was the one who created the unbreakable barrier between me and my brother, and, from that day on, my brother was no longer my brother, and the relationship between him and me was between a Devil Slayer and a Devil." Chime said, "The King General ruined my life and turned me into his 'Dragon King'. I wanted to get rid of his control, so I had to kill him. Otherwise, he could find me no matter where I fled. Even to the ends of the earth. Last night, I thought I had succeeded. I thought I had shaken him off. But I was wrong, he could not be shaken off, we two evil spirits were destined to go all the way."

You lift your head slightly. You said the same thing about Renata’s killer Bondarev. You understood this. It would all end in blood eventually. There was no other way.

"Do you believe that there are really evil spirits in this world that cannot be killed?" Caesar turned to Chu Zihang, "I mean King General."

"As I said before, although my reason tells me that there should be no such thing as ghosts in the world," Chu Zihang said slowly, "but what I have seen is beyond human understanding."

"He will come for me, and it is useless for me to hide anywhere. No one in this world can kill him, and neither can I." Chime said quietly, "He also took away the power he gave me."

"What does that mean?" Caesar asked.

"That banging sound. That's what he used to control me. He can use the sound of the clapper to put me into the state of the 'evil spirit'. In that state, I will have the power of the bloodline, my confidence and determination will skyrocket. Kazama Ruri is actually the name of that evil spirit. He can also use the sound of the clapper to make the evil spirit sleep, so that I can become a Chime Gen. With my current strength, I can't even hold the hilt of my sword. When he finds his way here, I have no choice but to sit and wait for death."

“Is this consistent with what you know?” Chu Zihang asked, addressing you.

“Yes. If I may… speak.” You look at Chime. “I know about the clapper sound. I was present with King General, when he was Dr. Herzog. I saw how he can turn access to dragon words on and off… although I was raised by him, I was not given the treatment that would put me under his control.”

“So you know?” Chime asked.

You nod slowly. “I know a lot.”

Chime turned his pipe upside down and tapped it into the ashtray.

"Lu Mingfei also reacted to that banging sound, but Lu Mingfei didn't seem to switch any state!" Caesar said.

You turn to Lu Mingfei in shock. “What?!”

“Given that lowlife face he’s putting right now, he’s definitely the real Lu Mingfei. Accept no substitutions.” Fingal nodded rapidly.

You continue to stare at Lu Mingfei for an uncomfortably long time until Mingfei just drives his eyes into the floor. Lu Mingfei is Z’s brother. Z was with you in Black Swan… then… that means...

Caesar pondered for a moment: "Initially, we thought that The White King was our enemy, but now it seems that the King will be no less terrifying than a Dragon God. This situation is tricky for both us and Hydra. It seems that we should join forces with your brother, and, as for the conflict between the Academy and Hydra, we can take our time to resolve it afterwards."

"You have to gain my brother's trust first. He doesn't trust you, much less me. Even if he has watched me attempt to assassinate the King General, he will have thought it was an internal fight in the Devil Clan. With the death of Tachibana Masamune, and with his position in mind, he is bound to make his own plans. Tachibana Masamune's plan was to destroy the White King and make the Hydra family independent again. To take control of the future of the Japan Branch. In this case, my brother will not cooperate with you." Chime Gen said, "He will find a way to kill the King General himself."

You’re silent through all of this talk. None of this is relevant to you after all. You’re still reeling from the revelation that Chime had killed women like you before under the influence of the King General. Although he might not even realize it was the clapper sound causing the killing sprees, he recognized the split personality state that sometimes people were put in when they heard the clapper. You recall the handsome and flirty Anton, who was changed to the Anton who was dead inside, what was changed to the Anton that was like a reptile.

The fact that Lu Mingfei was also susceptible to this sound shook you as well. Lu Mingfei’s sudden great headache on the roof during the Tokyo Tower mission: Was that also a result of the clapper? You didn’t hear any clapper that you could recall at that time. But still, while Lu Mingfei cringed and moaned in front of you, you tried to speak with him and your words were not reaching him. It was like he was turning into a doll, but didn’t go all the way.

"I'm not doubting your brother's fighting ability, but you’re clearly the smarter one. I don’t think that your brother is clever enough to face the King." Caesar said.

"Brother still holds the last card, he has Erii Uesugi in his hand."

"Erii is more powerful than you?" Lu Mingfei asked.

Chime Gen shook his head slowly: "I don't know what Erii Uesugi is, but I really don't have the certainty to say that Ruri Kazama can beat her. She seems to be extremely crippled in some ways, but her kind of catastrophic killing power is a power on the level of a Dragon King."

“Japan is really a place full of monsters." Caesar said with an exasperated sigh, "Get some rest, we still have to go to breakfast. Want us to bring you something?"

"After hearing all the things I've done, do you still see me as a friend?" Chime looked up and looked Caesar in the eyes.

"If you do another vicious act in front of me, I will stick my knife in your heart just like your brother; but until then, we should be considered allies, if not friends." Caesar walked out of the room without looking back and the others followed. "If the King will indeed find you here, we will keep you safe."

The door closed, and Chime was silent for a long, long time, sighing softly, "It would be foolish to make rash statements like who you will protect until you truly know the King's General but thank you." Chime looked at you. “What say you? MC?”

You stare after the closed door, eyes empty. “I understand what you mean now. When you said the King General will kill me, you meant to say, he will use you to do it. Right?” You look in his direction.

Chime Gen’s eyes were sad, so sad.

You close your eyes and nod in confirmation. “I understand.” You take a deep breath and turn to him, leaning in closer. “But I’m not giving up.” You whisper. “First, we have to survive. Then… after that, we can be together. But you promised me you would not give up your life. Keep that promise. Don’t seek death. Okay?”

You squeeze his hands tightly and he returns that squeeze with a firm grip of his own, a grip so tight it was painful. The pain in your hands distracted you from the pain in your heart. When your hands finally released, that throbbing ache in the bones of your hand was as good as a kiss.

You get up and walk quickly out of the room. Your things were no longer in the bath house so you had to head down the hall to the elevator. Much to your shock, Caesar was there waiting for you alone. You stop, hesitant. “Lose your appetite?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. That must have been very hard for you to hear.” He stood, one hand in his pocket. He looked almost too innocent and you wonder if he was eavesdropping.

You shrug. “It is what it is. Until the King General dies… Now if you excuse me, I have to pack.”

You step around him and he catches your arm. “What do you mean pack?” His blue eyes snap at you.

You look up at him in confusion. “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here. The …” You stop talking and sigh, massaging your forehead. Do you really have to spell it out for him? “Okay. Listen. The King General wants me dead just as much as Bondarev. He must know I love Ruri Kazama by now and if he comes here, he will not kill me. He will use Chime to do it, just because he’s that much of an asshole! He’s the type of person who would punish Chime for rebelling like this. He’s used Chime as a murder weapon before, and he’ll do it again!”

“You can’t go out there. Chisei or Hydra or Bondarev, if he’s still alive as you think he is, are still around and hunting you. How are you going to defend yourself on your own?!”

Caesar didn’t let you go but you jerked out of his grip. “I’ll have to find a way! But I can’t stay here and be a sitting duck for Herzog. You heard what he said! Herzog will find him no matter where he runs. And he’s the type of person who would do this!”

“No,” Caesar’s eyes were firm. “That Gen brother needs you. He would never hurt you.”

You laugh but there’s no joy in it. Your frustration and anger is building in your eyes. “What part of mind control don’t you understand! Do you think he would ever hurt the 14 girls he already hurt? Why am I different?”

“Because you’re already in his heart! That’s why he’s sending you away to protect you right?” Caesar hissed.

You shake your head and raise your arms only to drop them in frustration. “Caesar. … I told him not to send me away. But after hearing what he said, … this is my decision.”

“No.” Caesar dug his heels in. You could see that firm immovable light in his eyes. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.” He stepped around you easily. It was confrontational, blocking you. He was serious. He was between you and the elevator and your back is against the wall.

You look at him in disbelief. “You’re just going to let me sleep in the same place as the murder weapon?”

“Hey!” He hissed. He bangs his fist against the wall next to your face and there’s a crack visible in the plaster. He points down the hall toward Kazama’s room. “He is not a murder weapon. That is the man you love. He needs you to believe in him!”

Your eyes have gone distant and dull. You couldn’t believe those words had come out of your mouth. After everything that had happened to you. How could you ever say something like that? You feel like your world is spinning. The logic of survival dictated that you leave him and stay away from him. So you continue to protest. “Caesar… Herzog is counting on me to stay close to Ruri. He’s betting on it. He’ll set the stage. He’ll make it beautiful and when it’s at its most beautiful and we’re so close… Ruri will...”

Caesar takes a deep breath and shakes out his hand. “So we’ll think of a plan B.”

“What plan B? None of us can beat Ruri Kazama if he loses his mind to the clapper.” You whisper hoarsely. “I don’t care as much about dying as much as I do about breaking his heart. If the King General makes him kill me.” You look into his eyes, begging him to understand. “Caesar… it will destroy him. I don’t want to give King General that satisfaction. That’s what I really care about.”

Then you see in Caesar's eyes a black boiling rage like a ferocious thundercloud! A killing aura! “I want to see this bastard try. I don’t believe in Ghosts or evil spirits or any of that fake ass shit.” Caesar spat. “You know better than anyone else here. King General is just a man. A man behind a curtain of tricks. You already saw through his trap today. If you run off, you’ll just run into his back-up trap. It’s better to deal with the devil you know, go about our business as usual and set up a trap of our own.”

You finally relent. “Fine. What do you have in mind?”

“I’ll think of something.” Caesar rubs the back of his head. He glares at you when you laugh. “In the meantime, stay put.”

“God… okay…” You cover your eyes with your hand.

“You just need to stay calm! He knows you’re smart but guys like him have low opinions of women. Once he sees you falling all over you’re favorite guy like you did last night, he’ll think you’re just like all the rest of the so called ‘weaker sex’” He puts this in air quotes. “He’ll let down his guard.”

“Yeah…” You’re still uneasy, but you’ve started to calm down, rubbing your arm and looking away.

“Trust me… Trust me!” He gives you a firm pat on the shoulder. “Good hustle, MC. Go upstairs and get dressed and meet us for breakfast. Then I’ll have you serve your man!”

#dragon raja #Chime Gen #Yuan Zhinu #Ruri Kazama

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