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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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No, Uber's (still) not profitable

Going to Defcon this weekend? I'm giving a keynote, "An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet's Enshittification and Throw it Into Reverse," on Saturday at 12:30pm, followed by a book signing at the No Starch Press booth at 2:30pm!

https://info.defcon.org/event/?id=50826

Bezzle (n): 1. "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it" (JK Gabraith) 2. Uber.

Uber was, is, and always will be a bezzle. There are just intrinsic limitations to the profits available to operating a taxi fleet, even if you can misclassify your employees as contractors and steal their wages, even as you force them to bear the cost of buying and maintaining your taxis.

The magic of early Uber – when taxi rides were incredibly cheap, and there were always cars available, and drivers made generous livings behind the wheel – wasn't magic at all. It was just predatory pricing.

Uber lost $0.41 on every dollar they brought in, lighting $33b of its investors' cash on fire. Most of that money came from the Saudi royals, funneled through Softbank, who brought you such bezzles as WeWork – a boring real-estate company masquerading as a high-growth tech company, just as Uber was a boring taxi company masquerading as a tech company.

Predatory pricing used to be illegal, but Chicago School economists convinced judges to stop enforcing the law on the grounds that predatory pricing was impossible because no rational actor would choose to lose money. They (willfully) ignored the obvious possibility that a VC fund could invest in a money-losing business and use predatory pricing to convince retail investors that a pile of shit of sufficient size must have a pony under it somewhere.

This venture predation let investors – like Prince Bone Saw – cash out to suckers, leaving behind a money-losing business that had to invent ever-sweatier accounting tricks and implausible narratives to keep the suckers on the line while they blew town. A bezzle, in other words:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/19/fake-it-till-you-make-it/#millennial-lifestyle-subsidy

Uber is a true bezzle innovator, coming up with all kinds of fairy tales and sci-fi gimmicks to explain how they would convert their money-loser into a profitable business. They spent $2.5b on self-driving cars, producing a vehicle whose mean distance between fatal crashes was half a mile. Then they paid another company $400 million to take this self-licking ice-cream cone off their hands:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Amazingly, self-driving cars were among the more plausible of Uber's plans. They pissed away hundreds of millions on California's Proposition 22 to institutionalize worker misclassification, only to have the rule struck down because they couldn't be bothered to draft it properly. Then they did it again in Massachusetts:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/15/simple-as-abc/#a-big-ask

Remember when Uber was going to plug the holes in its balance sheet with flying cars? Flying cars! Maybe they were just trying to soften us up for their IPO, where they advised investors that the only way they'd ever be profitable is if they could replace every train, bus and tram ride in the world:

https://48hills.org/2019/05/ubers-plans-include-attacking-public-transit/

Honestly, the only way that seems remotely plausible is when it's put next to flying cars for comparison. I guess we can be grateful that they never promised us jetpacks, or, you know, teleportation. Just imagine the market opportunity they could have ascribed to astral projection!

Narrative capitalism has its limits. Once Uber went public, it had to produce financial disclosures that showed the line going up, lest the bezzle come to an end. These balance-sheet tricks were as varied as they were transparent, but the financial press kept falling for them, serving as dutiful stenographers for a string of triumphant press-releases announcing Uber's long-delayed entry into the league of companies that don't lose more money every single day.

One person Uber has never fooled is Hubert Horan, a transportation analyst with decades of experience who's had Uber's number since the very start, and who has done yeoman service puncturing every one of these financial "disclosures," methodically sifting through the pile of shit to prove that there is no pony hiding in it.

In 2021, Horan showed how Uber had burned through nearly all of its cash reserves, signaling an end to its subsidy for drivers and rides, which would also inevitably end the bezzle:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/10/unter/#bezzle-no-more

In mid, 2022, Horan showed how the "profit" Uber trumpeted came from selling off failed companies it had acquired to other dying rideshare companies, which paid in their own grossly inflated stock:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/05/a-lousy-taxi/#a-giant-asterisk

At the end of 2022, Horan showed how Uber invented a made-up, nonstandard metric, called "EBITDA profitability," which allowed them to lose billions and still declare themselves to be profitable, a lie that would have been obvious if they'd reported their earnings using Generally Accepted Accounting Principles (GAAP):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/11/bezzlers-gonna-bezzle/#gryft

Like clockwork, Uber has just announced – once again – that it is profitable, and once again, the press has credulously repeated the claim. So once again, Horan has published one of his magisterial debunkings on Naked Capitalism:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2023/08/hubert-horan-can-uber-ever-deliver-part-thirty-three-uber-isnt-really-profitable-yet-but-is-getting-closer-the-antitrust-case-against-uber.html

Uber's $394m gains this quarter come from paper gains to untradable shares in its loss-making rivals – Didi, Grab, Aurora – who swapped stock with Uber in exchange for Uber's own loss-making overseas divisions. Yes, it's that stupid: Uber holds shares in dying companies that no one wants to buy. It declared those shares to have gained value, and on that basis, reported a profit.

Truly, any big number multiplied by an imaginary number can be turned into an even bigger number.

Now, Uber also reported "margin improvements" – that is, it says that it loses less on every journey. But it didn't explain how it made those improvements. But we know how the company did it: they made rides more expensive and cut the pay to their drivers. A 2.9m ride in Manhattan is now $50 – if you get a bargain! The base price is more like $70:

https://www.wired.com/story/uber-ceo-will-always-say-his-company-sucks/

The number of Uber drivers on the road has a direct relationship to the pay Uber offers those drivers. But that pay has been steeply declining, and with it, the availability of Ubers. A couple weeks ago, I found myself at the Burbank train station unable to get an Uber at all, with the app timing out repeatedly and announcing "no drivers available."

Normally, you can get a yellow taxi at the station, but years of Uber's predatory pricing has caused a drawdown of the local taxi-fleet, so there were no taxis available at the cab-rank or by dispatch. It took me an hour to get a cab home. Uber's bezzle destroyed local taxis and local transit – and replaced them with worse taxis that cost more.

Uber won't say why its margins are improving, but it can't be coming from scale. Before the pandemic, Uber had far more rides, and worse margins. Uber has diseconomies of scale: when you lose money on every ride, adding more rides increases your losses, not your profits.

Meanwhile, Lyft – Uber's also-ran competitor – saw its margins worsen over the same period. Lyft has always been worse at lying about it finances than Uber, but it is in essentially the exact same business (right down to the drivers and cars – many drivers have both apps on their phones). So Lyft's financials offer a good peek at Uber's true earnings picture.

Lyft is actually slightly better off than Uber overall. It spent less money on expensive props for its long con – flying cars, robotaxis, scooters, overseas clones – and abandoned them before Uber did. Lyft also fired 24% of its staff at the end of 2022, which should have improved its margins by cutting its costs.

Uber pays its drivers less. Like Lyft, Uber practices algorithmic wage discrimination, Veena Dubal's term describing the illegal practice of offering workers different payouts for the same work. Uber's algorithm seeks out "pickers" who are choosy about which rides they take, and converts them to "ants" (who take every ride offered) by paying them more for the same job, until they drop all their other gigs, whereupon the algorithm cuts their pay back to the rates paid to ants:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

All told, wage theft and wage cuts by Uber transferred $1b/quarter from labor to Uber's shareholders. Historically, Uber linked fares to driver pay – think of surge pricing, where Uber charged riders more for peak times and passed some of that premium onto drivers. But now Uber trumpets a custom pricing algorithm that is the inverse of its driver payment system, calculating riders' willingness to pay and repricing every ride based on how desperate they think you are.

This pricing is a per se antitrust violation of Section 2 of the Sherman Act, America's original antitrust law. That's important because Sherman 2 is one of the few antitrust laws that we never stopped enforcing, unlike the laws banning predator pricing:

https://ilr.law.uiowa.edu/sites/ilr.law.uiowa.edu/files/2023-02/Woodcock.pdf

Uber claims an 11% margin improvement. 6-7% of that comes from algorithmic price discrimination and service cutbacks, letting it take 29% of every dollar the driver earns (up from 22%). Uber CEO Dara Khosrowshahi himself says that this is as high as the take can get – over 30%, and drivers will delete the app.

Uber's food delivery service – a baling wire-and-spit Frankenstein's monster of several food apps it bought and glued together – is a loser even by the standards of the sector, which is unprofitable as a whole and experiencing an unbroken slide of declining demand.

Put it all together and you get a picture of the kind of taxi company Uber really is: one that charges more than traditional cabs, pays drivers less, and has fewer cars on the road at times of peak demand, especially in the neighborhoods that traditional taxis had always underserved. In other words, Uber has broken every one of its promises.

We replaced the "evil taxi cartel" with an "evil taxi monopolist." And it's still losing money.

Even if Lyft goes under – as seems inevitable – Uber can't attain real profitability by scooping up its passengers and drivers. When you're losing money on every ride, you just can't make it up in volume.

Image: JERRYE AND ROY KLOTZ MD (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LA_BREA_TAR_PITS,_LOS_ANGELES.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

I’m kickstarting the audiobook for “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation,” a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It’s a DRM-free book, which means Audible won’t carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/09/accounting-gimmicks/#unter

Image: JERRYE AND ROY KLOTZ MD (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:LA_BREA_TAR_PITS,_LOS_ANGELES.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #bezzles #hubert horan #uber #rideshare #accounting tricks #financial engineering #late-stage capitalism #narrative capitalism #lyft #transit #uber eats #venture predation #algorithmic wage discrimination

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cursedwoman1859 · 1 year ago

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Arm Candy (Silco/F!Reader)

“I need someone who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.” Silco needs a plus-one for a fancy topsider party. You don't really have a choice but to agree.

AO3 Link

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Words: 5.8k

Content: Resolved sexual tension; semi-public sex; vaginal fingering; dirty talk; dubious business ethics

---

It wasn’t often you got called into Silco’s office first thing in the morning. You were a paper-pusher, not one of the battle-hardened henchmen who usually hung around the Last Drop, and your work mostly kept you at your desk. Calculations came as naturally to you as breathing, and you could crunch numbers faster even than Silco himself. In the few months you’d been working for the Eye of Zaun, you’d made yourself indispensable. You helped keep track of the Shimmer shipments going to and from Zaun, you effortlessly slipped the profits from the drugs business into the earnings from the various factories and bars and properties that Silco owned, and once a week you’d spend the evening alone in the office with your stern, exacting boss while you went over that week’s financial reports. Silco needed someone to cook his books, and you prided yourself on being the best damn chef in the undercity. You kept to yourself, you prayed he never noticed your furtive glances up at him when he was absorbed in his work, and you did not cause trouble.

So it was only natural that your stomach twisted itself into knots as you stepped into his office, and that those knots tightened when he looked up from the paper he was reading, his bicoloured stare pinning you and making your walk to stand in front of his desk feel like miles instead of metres.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you said when you were near, and the way his eyes flicked over you, almost too quickly for you to notice, did nothing to calm you.

“I did,” he said, his chair creaking as he leaned back in it. You’d definitely never wondered if it could hold two people. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

You could swear that sentence made your brain fritz like a faulty wire. “I, um—” Absolutely nothing was the real answer, but for some reason you didn’t want to admit that. “I made plans with…Ran and Dustin,” you said, saying the first names that came to your mind even though you’d never shared more than small talk with either of them.

Silco’s eyebrow raised as if he could see right through your lie. Which he probably could, because it was completely transparent. “Then cancel them. I need your help at an event.”

“What kind of…event?” you said, your mind reeling with all the things Silco could be alluding to. Shakedowns, back-alley deals, assassinations…

“Don’t look so frightened,” Silco said, taking a cigar from his ashtray and lighting it. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke billow around him as he spoke. “Are you familiar with Ko Shosu?”

It took you a moment to remember the name from some of the background research you’d carried out on Silco’s competitors. “Doesn’t he own that factory that makes gears or something?”

“The very same. He’s hosting a party at his residence topside tomorrow night and unfortunately, I’ll need to make an appearance. Shosu seems to think we’re acquaintances. And on top of that, I happen to know that one of his associates has run into some financial trouble as of late. His factory makes components that are essential to the Shimmer-tanks we’re developing. Now isn’t that a stroke of luck?”

“You want to get to this associate so you can get him to work with you?”

“Exactly. His name is Rupert Torek and he’s run up gambling debts with some very unsavoury people. I’m sure he’ll be cooperative once he realises I can lend him enough money to get himself out of debt before his wife finds out.”

You decided not to ask how Silco could have information like that on someone he’d never even met. For your sanity’s sake, it was better not to know. “And why do you need me, sir?”

It might have just been your imagination, but you could swear Silco looked you up and down again. Slower this time. “I thought that would be obvious. I cannot exactly show up to something like this alone. I need someone who can distract Torek’s wife so I can get five minutes alone with him, and who can look pretty on my arm and be trusted not to make off with the silverware from a topsider estate. That’s you.”

“I, um—” you floundered for a minute – the words look pretty on my arm setting your heart racing, which was stupid, he’d literally just said he wanted you to be his arm candy for a night, it meant nothing – and Silco raised an eyebrow at your hesitation.

“You’ll be paid overtime for your trouble, of course,” he said.

“That wasn’t—thank you, sir,” you said quickly.

“Good,” he said, flicking through some of the papers on his desk, his focus already slipping back to his work. “Meet me outside Ko Shosu’s house at eight sharp. Wear something nice and do not be late.”

It was a struggle to focus on your work for the next two days. The figures that usually came so easily to you seemed to blur together until you had to triple-check your spreadsheets in case you’d made an error while your mind insisted on screeching Silco think’s I’m pretty over and over like a stuck record. You were sure he’d meant nothing by that offhanded comment, but that didn’t help anything.

It was almost a relief when the next evening rolled around just so you could focus on doing something.

But that relief didn’t last long when you realised you didn’t have the first clue what you should wear to a party at a topsider’s fancy estate. There wasn’t time to hit up the markets even if you could justify the expense, so you settled for a black dress that was simple, but showed off your figure without showing too much of anything else, as you could at least guess that anything shorter than the knee-length hem of your dress might not go over well among the stiff, buttoned-up topsiders. You’d had the dress a long time and had to stitch it once or twice, but surely nobody would notice a little thing like that.

You felt strangely buoyant as you made your way through the upper districts of Zaun, where at this time in the evening business was just starting to pick up. Lines were forming outside the nicer clubs, the street hawkers were packing up to make way for the crowds, and the air nearly sparkled with Shimmer residue as you passed the open doors of some of the edgier establishments, where topsiders went to get a taste of the undercity without actually having to venture below. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to be annoyed at the arrogant topsiders who came to Zaun to indulge in all the things they couldn’t in Piltover before returning to their cushy homes and easy lives. Tonight felt like an infiltration, and it was you who would be inserting yourself somewhere you could never belong.

You met up with Silco outside the gates of Ko Shosu’s estate. He’d gone straight there from a meeting with some topsider businessman, and he was dressed as elegantly as he always was. As you approached you glanced at the people milling around on the wide driveway, and you suddenly felt underdressed.

“You’re almost late,” Silco said by way of greeting, and the nervous knot in your stomach only tightened.

“Sorry, sir. Border guards held me up. You know how they are.” The Enforcer at the checkpoint on the bridge had made a huge fuss over your ID photo having a slightly different hairstyle than you did now, just being an asshole because he was an Enforcer and he could.

“Hm,” was all he said as his eyes raked over you, and your mind instantly went to those little stitches in your dress. You suddenly felt as if he could see every little flaw in you, and the feeling only worsened when a couple of women in glittering floor-length gowns swept past, arm-in-arm and laughing airily.

“Do I look all right?” you said just to break the tense silence. “This is the best I have.”

“You look perfectly acceptable,” Silco said, and that was almost worse than if he hadn’t said anything. Acceptable. You’d be lucky if you weren’t mistaken for a servant. “Shall we?” he said then, offering you his arm. When you hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “Take my arm. We have to at least appear as if we both want to be here.”

“Do you want to be here?” you said as you curled your hand around his elbow, trying to ignore the jolt you felt at touching him, even if he was wearing a coat.

He scoffed. “Of course I don’t. But needs must.”

As you made your way up the long driveway, you couldn’t help but gawk at your surroundings. You knew this wasn’t even close to being the grandest house in all of Piltover, but at that moment you could have believed it. There were at least four floors, the upper two ringed in balconies spilling over with hanging flowers and vines. The next closest house had to be at least a hundred metres away, and in the dark space between you could make out the open expanse of a lawn lit by a ring of ground-level lamps, and manicured trees on each side. You couldn’t imagine what the topsiders would do with such a space – you could probably fit a whole other house in there, even one as large as Shosu’s.

And when you entered the house itself, you actually gasped. “Someone lives here? It looks like a palace.”

Silco shot you a glare as you stared at your surroundings with wide eyes, barely even registering the doorman who came to take your coats. “Remember how I said you were the only one I could trust not to fill your pockets? Don’t make me regret it.”

But you were hardly listening as your eyes roved over the crowded ballroom. It was a sea of fine suits and jewel-toned gowns, with servants darting through the throngs like the quick little fish that lived in the shallows of the river, trays of drinks and tiny pastry-like things balanced on their fingertips. Music drifted from somewhere you couldn’t see, almost drowned out by the chatter, and diamonds glittered at fingers and throats – and even on the ceiling, you noticed as your eyes drifted upwards, or at least it seemed like the chandeliers were draped in strings of gemstones that scattered the lights in every direction.

“Concentrate, girl,” Silco muttered close to your ear, making you shiver. “Remember why we’re here. Torek is over there,” he said, though you couldn’t possibly guess which of the guests he was indicating. “Do you remember your task?”

You dragged your eyes away from the spectacle before you to meet his mismatched eyes. “Keep his wife distracted while you get him to consider working with you. I’ve got it.”

“Good. We won’t need to stay long – an hour at most, then you can go home and do whatever you’d like. Maybe you can even catch Ran and Dustin.” As he said this the corner of his mouth tilted up, and you realised with some shock that the Eye of Zaun was teasing you.

You shrugged in what you hoped was nonchalance. “It takes as long as it takes. You know I’m not one to rush a job.”

“I’m aware,” he said as you started to make your way through the crowd, weaving through the throng as if you weren’t aiming straight for your unfortunate target. Perhaps it was because people knew he was from the Undercity, or maybe whispers of the things his people did in dark alleys and dingy establishments travelled ahead of him, but the dense crowd of people seemed to loosen before him, as if people suddenly remembered they had other places to be when he approached. If it offended him, Silco gave no sign, but instead he leaned in to you again. “He is close now. Laugh like I’ve said something terribly clever, you look petrified.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, but you did as he asked anyway, and it seemed to help. The tension you had felt in the air around you receded a little, and before you knew it Silco was shaking hands with a tall, portly man. You barely heard as he introduced you as his guest for the night, your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears. Rupert Torek had an open, kind face, his eyes crinkling at the sides when he smiled, and he didn’t seem surprised that Silco had sought him out. You wondered if he had any idea how fucked he was.

“We haven’t met before! I’m Liana, Rupert’s wife,” a voice at your side said, making you start, though you quickly smoothed it over with a smile as you turned to the woman who had appeared next to you, introducing yourself and hoping you sounded like you knew you belonged here, just like she did.

Liana glanced between you and Silco, who had already captured her husband’s full attention. Her brows lowered slightly, and you wondered if she had suspicions about her husband’s gambling. “I didn’t know Silco had a partner,” she said carefully.

“Oh, we’re not…together,” you said, laughing airily. “I’m just accompanying him tonight.”

“I see,” Liana said, though now her smile seemed frozen in place, and you wondered if you’d offended her somehow. But nevertheless she called over a couple of her friends, whose names you quickly forgot, and for a moment you were very pleased with yourself. There was no chance Liana would try to join her husband’s conversation while you had her distracted like this.

It was at this point that things started to go wrong.

In hindsight, you should have realised what Liana thought you were implying when you’d said you were accompanying your boss, and what a topsider would think of that particular occupation. But you were a few minutes into a banal, vapid conversation with Liana and her friends about something that you weren’t really paying attention to before you realised that they all thought you were a whore he’d hired for the night, and apparently found this very offensive judging by the bladed smiles and barbed compliments that started heading your way. It didn’t help that you were inadvertently showing much more skin than any of them – and how you were supposed to know the current fashions topside, you had no idea. Pretty soon your fingers were itching to take off one of your high-heeled shoes and beat Liana’s face in with it, but you couldn’t exactly square up in the middle of a ballroom as if you were in a Zaunite dive bar.

So instead, you just played dumb.

You let the thinly-veiled insults, the insinuations that you didn’t belong among them, glance off you. Nobody spent their whole life in Zaun without growing their own kind of armour. Right now yours was keeping your smile frozen firmly on your face, and so Liana was too busy with you to notice that her husband was making a business deal with the Eye of Zaun himself, right under her powdered nose.

That thought made you glance over at Silco, and the second your eyes met his, you felt a strange sort of calm descend over you. Rupert Torek was still chatting away, not even a hint of discomfort on his round face. Silco gave you a minute, almost imperceptible nod, raising his glass of wine slightly.

It had actually worked.

You tried to keep your face blank. That only became harder when Silco turned his attention back to Torek and you realised that when you’d looked over at him, he’d already been watching you.

Soon after, you excused yourself to go to the ladies’ room. You were pretty sure Liana and her friends forgot all about you as soon as you were out of sight – or at least you hoped so. You didn’t want to know what they’d be saying about you as soon as you were out of earshot.

You didn’t head to the bathroom, though. Instead you went out the way you’d come in, not bothering to collect your coat from the doorman as you went down the stone steps as fast as you could without running.

As soon as you were outside, away from the glare of the house’s lights, you felt the tightness that had settled in your chest loosen. You hadn’t even noticed the anxiety creep under your skin with every barb Liana and her friends had thrown your way, but when it finally dissipated you wondered how you’d been able to breathe at all.

You should go back now that you’d got your fresh air. You couldn’t just disappear.

But one glance back at the shadowy figures moving through the ballroom windows had you moving away from the house, into the shadows of the grounds where nobody would notice the Zaunite girl who was hilariously out of place among them.

The pathways were lit by low electric lights, and there was nobody else out here. You chose a path along the edge of the grounds, shielded on one side by a high wall and on the other by a huge rosebush bordering the lawn. You weren’t sure whether you were really supposed to be out here, but nobody stopped you as you wandered further into the grounds.

Eventually you found a bench and you sat down, tipping your head back to watch the stars in the sky. You’d only ever seen them when Silco sent you up to Piltover on business, and on those nights there was never time to stop and really look at them. Down in the Undercity it was difficult to see the sky at all through the smog, let alone the dozens of stars that shimmered through the haze of Piltover’s lights.

For some reason you couldn’t name, tears sprang to your eyes unbidden, and you tried to blink them away without ruining your makeup.

Of course, that was the moment you heard footsteps approaching.

“Drinking alone already?”

Your head snapped up to see Silco strolling towards you, and it was then that you realised you still had your glass of wine in your hand. You sighed, taking a sip as your boss sat down next to you.

“Just needed some air,” you muttered as Silco slung his arm over the back of the bench. It didn’t escape you that if you leaned back, he would have his arm around you. “How did it go with Torek?”

“I expect we’ll be getting a visit from him or one of his associates in the near future. His wife wasn’t too much for you, I take it?”

“I handled it. But they’re all just so…ugh.”

Silco chuckled as he pulled a cigar from somewhere in his coat, and you tried not to let the sound startle you. You’d never heard Silco laugh before, not even a little, and the sound was surprisingly warm. “Don’t worry, we won’t have to do this again for a while.” You watched as he held the cigar between his crooked teeth as he flicked his lighter, the strange angle of the lights highlighting his sharp cheekbones as he took a long drag.

“You know, I don’t think we’re allowed to smoke out here.”

“I don’t care.” He blew a long puff of smoke out into the crisp night air, staining it with a rich scent of tobacco and spices. “Is something bothering you?”

You searched for words to explain the anger tightening your throat, but came up with nothing that made sense. You were a numbers girl. Words were Silco’s thing. You shrugged. “It’s stupid. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’m asking, so I would say it does.” His voice had hardened, and you glanced over at him in alarm, though he didn’t look angry.

You didn’t want to push it, though, so you sighed and took a sip from your wine to buy a few seconds, feeling Silco’s mismatched gaze on you the whole time. “It’s just…all they did in there was bitch about things. What I was wearing, how I acted, their husbands, their lives. And yet…” you gestured vaguely at your surroundings. The gardens that must have needed a whole team of people to maintain. The lawn that sat empty when it could have grown enough food to feed a whole street of hungry Zaunites. The house. “They have all this, but it’s all they’ve ever had, so they can’t even see how privileged they really are. Meanwhile we have to scrape every penny just to put food on the table and some people in Zaun don’t even get that. If I lived up here I’d never complain about anything ever again,” you finished, and by now you were speaking into your wine glass, your eyes fixed on the ground.

Silco was quiet for a moment, and you didn’t dare glance up at him to see if you could gauge what he was really thinking. You’d never been so candid with your boss before, and you half expected him to leave and pretend tonight had never happened. The very last thing you expected him to say was, “What if I told you that tonight had been something of a test of your loyalties?”

Now you did look up, and he was watching you with that kind of calculated detachment he was so good at, though something in the hard lines of his face had softened. Or maybe it was just the moonlight.

“I don’t understand, sir.”

He took his time answering, taking another long drag of his cigar and releasing the smoke in a ring. “You’ve been with me a short while now, and you’re a very talented accountant. With your skills and some forged papers you could easily find work topside. Something with less risk and more pay.”

You flushed at his insinuation. “You pay me just fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “All wages are higher topside, you know that. You could have walked out of that house with a whole list of people who would pay you far more than I can for the same work, but you didn’t. Instead you stood there and allowed me to work on Torek while everyone in that room thought you were just some girl I’d hired for the night.”

You started to splutter a protest, but it died on your lips when you realised Silco was right. If you’d revealed your real job it would have raised Liana’s suspicions.

“It’s a long road ahead of us until Zaun is an independent nation. The topsiders won’t let us go without a fight,” he said, his voice dropping in case you weren’t alone in the gardens. “There will be times when you are tempted by offers of money, better jobs in better places, employers who won’t ask you to break the topsiders’ laws every day. I needed to know that you were true to the cause, that you would remain loyal to me even when you had the opportunity to make things easier for yourself.”

“You were giving me an out,” you said as it clicked into place. “Why now?”

“Because by now, you know exactly what you’re getting into by staying. Your choice to work for me is a genuine one.”

“So did I pass? Your test, I mean.”

“We would not be sitting here now if you had failed.”

You weren’t involved in the…bloodier side of Silco’s business, but you weren’t ignorant to it, either. You knew what he did to people he suspected of disloyalty. Would he really have let you go if you’d wanted? Or would you have disappeared into the shadows of the Lanes, never to be heard from again? You wouldn’t be the first. But then you realised that you’d never been afraid of that, because you would never give him a reason to doubt your loyalties. Zaun had to break free of Piltover, and he was the only one with the wits, the resources, and the sheer bloody-mindedness to finally cut the undercity free.

A sudden cold breeze blew in off the river, making the hedges surrounding you tremble, and you became acutely aware that you had left your coat inside. Before you could give yourself the chance to think better of it, you leaned back, and as you’d suspected, Silco didn’t move his arm. He didn’t quite put his arm around you, but he traced a circle on your bare shoulder with the back of his thumb, almost as if he was reluctant to touch you in case he scared you off.

“We can return to the party if you wish,” he said, and now he was near enough for his warm breath on your ear to send shivers along your skin that had nothing to do with the chilled night air.

“I prefer it out here.”

“As do I.” He held his cigar between his teeth as he reached into his coat and produced a small metal hip flask.

You couldn’t help but snort as he uncapped it and the smell of whiskey hit your nose. “You brought your own alcohol?”

He took a swig and then passed the flask to you. “Better than the swill they’re serving in there.”

“That swill is probably very expensive.”

“So is this. Drink.”

You took a small sip and were proud of yourself when you didn’t cough, even though the whiskey was strong enough to make your eyes water. A pleasant warm sensation spread out from your chest as you swallowed, though, and you shivered as you licked a drop off your lip. “Definitely tastes expensive.”

You looked up at him, and Silco’s eyes quickly snapped away from your mouth as he made a vague hum of agreement. For a while neither of you spoke, and you only passed the flask back and forth in companionable silence. The music that drifted towards you on the wind picked up in pace, and you heard the occasional drunken shout in the distance. Still nobody ventured into the dark grounds.

“Earlier I told you that you looked acceptable,” Silco said all of a sudden as he tapped out his half-smoked cigar and put it back in the tin. “I believe I should have told you that you look lovely instead.”

You felt a flush creep up your neck, and you risked a glance up at your boss – who had told you that you would look pretty on his arm, who had trusted you with this mission and had noticed when you slipped off to be alone. Nobody ever did that.

Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe you were delusional or perhaps just stupid. You didn’t really know why you did it, but before you could think better of it, you leaned over and kissed him.

It was only a quick, chaste press of your lips against his, and you instantly regretted it when Silco stayed completely still against you. You jerked backwards, already apologising. “I’m so sorry sir, I shouldn’t—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Silco’s hand was firm on the back of your neck as he pulled you towards him and kissed you. Properly this time. It was your turn to freeze in shock, but you quickly got over it as his tongue danced against yours and you tasted whiskey and smoke. You eagerly let him in as he deepened the kiss, shivering as his hand slid up your leg from your knee to your thigh, and for the first time that night you were glad of your too-short skirt.

You gasped in surprise as he pulled you onto his lap, barely breaking the kiss as he made you straddle him, your skirt riding up as your thighs spread. Feeling bold, you ran your hands through his soft hair, and he hummed in approval as you raked your nails through the short hair at the base of his neck. In response he gave your ass a firm squeeze, grinding you down onto his lap.

And onto the hard length beneath you.

You circled your hips against him as he moved down to your neck, holding you in place with a hand in your hair pulling just tight enough to hurt as he bit more than kissed you, leaving marks that would definitely be impossible to hide in this dress. You couldn’t give a shit. No way were you going back into that stupid party after this.

“Tell me how long you’ve wanted this,” Silco said, emphasising his point with a sharp snap of his hips up against you.

“I—” you started, but you could only focus on his hands creeping up your thighs again. Except this time, they didn’t stop.

“Go on,” he coaxed, as if you were supposed to focus on anything except his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. You hissed as he tugged them down and the cold night air hit your pussy, and it faded into a whimper as he trailed his fingers along your lips, pausing to circle your entrance in a way that made your back arch. “And don’t you dare try to lie to me, sweetheart, because you’re already wet for me.”

“Um…” you tried to focus on anything but the soft, barely-there brush of his fingers against your pussy. Every time you tried to grind against his hand he moved away, keeping his touch just a little too soft, the bastard. “I think – maybe…”

“A few weeks?” he prompted.

“Mm – no…”

He raised an eyebrow, but rewarded your answer by pressing his thumb against your clit, though he still refused to give you what you wanted. Needed.

“Months?”

“Longer. Since… I wanted this since my first day working for you.” Finally, Silco slid one long finger into you as his thumb drew an agonisingly slow circle over your clit, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure.

“Do you want to know a secret, my lovely?” he said, his fingers moving faster, obscene wet noises filling the air.

“M-hm.”

“I have you beat. I’ve wanted this since I interviewed you.”

Your eyes flew open at his admission just as he sank another finger into you without warning. Later. You could think about what he’d said later. For now you just let yourself enjoy the curl of his long fingers inside you, the expert ministrations of his thumb on your clit that sent waves of warm pleasure up your spine.

Until the bastard stopped.

He withdrew his hand from you, and his fingers glistened in the moonlight from your wetness. Your eyes widened as he licked them clean, then he motioned for you to stand. “Get up. Go and stand at the end of the bench.”

You followed his directions on shaky legs, and Silco followed, casually strolling around to stand behind you. You had a good idea of what he intended. He trailed his fingers up your bare arms, then fisted one hand in your hair while the other held your bicep in a bruising grip. “If you want this to stop,” he purred in your ear, “say the word now.”

You only pushed back against him, feeling his hard length behind you.

“I thought not.” Then he bent you over the arm of the bench, the ornate steel armrest digging into your hips as he lifted your skirt and pulled your panties down to your knees. You weren’t sure if you shivered with the cool breeze or the anticipation as you heard him unbutton his pants, his hand still in your hair. Then you hissed as you felt the press of his cock against your centre, arched your back as he slid it through your wetness before finally sinking into you as his free hand started playing with your clit once more.

Your voice rose in a high, keening cry as he sheathed himself inside you, easing the ache of his entry with his fingers on your clit. He stopped abruptly, pulling you up by your hair. “Hush now,” he hissed in your ear as he let go of your hair and shoved his fingers in your mouth. You could taste the echo of yourself on his skin. “You don’t want them to think you really are my whore, do you?”

You choked around his fingers for a moment before you relaxed your throat enough that you could shake your head and make a garbled nuh-uh sound, which earned you a low chuckle.

“I didn’t quite catch that, sweetheart,” he said as he started to move, setting a quick, urgent pace that reminded you that anybody could come around the corner and see you bent over a bench with the most powerful man in the Undercity driving into you from behind as you gagged on his fingers. Every thrust of his hips ground yours against the metal armrest, and you knew you’d surely have bruises in the morning. “I wish we were somewhere I could fuck you properly. Take you apart piece by piece until you’re nothing more than a writhing, crying mess in my bed. But perhaps you do like the idea of someone seeing you, seeing how well you’re taking me. How wet you are.” His breathing was becoming shallow as he fucked you, but that didn’t stop the stream of filth from his mouth. “I don’t know about you, but I would kill to see the look on Ko Shosu’s face when he realises we used his party to lure his friend into our web and then defiled his rose garden right under his nose.”

He said something else after that too, but you’d stopped listening to his words and let the low, rough cadence of his voice be the final push you needed over that peak you’d been approaching, once interrupted and now higher than ever. Even Silco’s fingers in your mouth weren’t enough to muffle your cries as you came, your thighs shaking from the strain of standing while your walls clamped down on Silco’s cock, over and over again in waves of agonising bliss. He followed soon after, and you felt a warm rush as he spilled himself inside you with a groan he muffled in your neck.

For a moment you both stood there, catching your breath. You sighed in relief as Silco removed his fingers from your mouth, and after tucking himself away he cleaned you up with a handkerchief before pulling your panties back up for you. “You felt just as good as I’d imagined you would,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your abused scalp.

“Is that something you imagined often, sir?” you said teasingly.

“Most nights,” he murmured into your hair. “And perhaps some days, too.”

Well, damn. You had no idea what to say to that, other than, “Me too.” Maybe you had actually drank too much. “Take me home,” you said, leaning back against his chest as he straightened out your skirts. You felt him smile against your hair.

“It would be my absolute pleasure.”

#arcane x reader #silco x reader #silco x you #arcane x you #arcane x female reader #cursedfanfic #ive been dipping in and out of this for months and now im sick of looking at it so here you go lol

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exobiotica · 6 months ago

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In the waters of a lowland swamp, a dramatic scene unfolds in miniature. The skeletal remains of a long-deceased creature have been colonized by a gelatinous, rather fluffy organism known as Rugosa. Covering any available real estate like a crumpled, spreading blanket, this filter feeder removes organic particulates from the surrounding water. Swamps with high levels of Rugosa growth maintain a more transparent water column, hosting more autotrophs and greater biodiversity. Firmly attached to this ensconced matrix is the decaying husk of a once mobile Flame Diversoma. Its last dying act was to serve as a shelter for its numerous offspring, which are now developed enough to disperse en masse. The coordinated timing of this exodus is critical, for a slow diffusion of these larvae would make them easy prey for the surrounding cadre of predators, who have gathered in anticipation of this event. The most successful hunter thus far is the Spotted Spearmouth, which relies on its harpoon-like proboscis to stab the passing swimmers and drag them into its maw. A vast swarm of semi-transparent Swamp Pearls paddles along slowly, unaware of the violence unfolding nearby. Having little in the way of visual sensors or situational awareness, their lives are consumed by chasing the flow of nutrients and favorable conditions in this tangled aquatic realm.

#art #space #creature #alien #exobiology #worldbuilding #speculative evolution #creature design #astrobiology #green #underwater #speculative biology #alien planet

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sexymemecoin · 5 months ago

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The Emergence of NFTs: Transforming Digital Ownership and Creativity

Non-Fungible Tokens (NFTs) have revolutionized the way we think about digital ownership, art, and collectibles. By leveraging blockchain technology, NFTs provide a way to create, buy, sell, and own unique digital assets with verifiable provenance and scarcity. This article explores the world of NFTs, their impact on various industries, key benefits and challenges, and notable projects, including a brief mention of Sexy Meme Coin.

What Are NFTs?

NFTs, or Non-Fungible Tokens, are unique digital assets that represent ownership of a specific item or piece of content, such as art, music, videos, virtual real estate, and more. Unlike cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin or Ethereum, which are fungible and can be exchanged on a one-to-one basis, NFTs are indivisible and unique. Each NFT is recorded on a blockchain, ensuring transparency, security, and verifiability of ownership.

The Rise of NFTs

NFTs gained mainstream attention in 2021 when digital artist Beeple sold an NFT artwork for $69 million at Christie's auction house. This landmark event highlighted the potential of NFTs to transform the art world by providing artists with new revenue streams and collectors with verifiable digital ownership.

Since then, NFTs have exploded in popularity, with various industries exploring their potential applications. From gaming and music to real estate and fashion, NFTs are creating new opportunities for creators, businesses, and investors.

Key Benefits of NFTs

Digital Ownership: NFTs provide a way to establish true digital ownership of assets. Each NFT is unique and can be traced back to its original creator, ensuring authenticity and provenance. This is particularly valuable in the art and collectibles market, where forgery and fraud are significant concerns.

Monetization for Creators: NFTs enable creators to monetize their digital content directly. Artists, musicians, and other content creators can sell their work as NFTs, earning revenue without relying on intermediaries. Additionally, smart contracts can be programmed to provide creators with royalties each time their NFT is resold, ensuring ongoing income.

Interoperability: NFTs can be used across different platforms and ecosystems, allowing for interoperability in the digital world. For example, NFTs representing in-game items can be traded or used across multiple games and virtual worlds, enhancing their utility and value.

Scarcity and Collectibility: NFTs introduce scarcity into the digital realm by creating limited editions or one-of-a-kind items. This scarcity drives the collectibility of NFTs, similar to physical collectibles like rare coins or trading cards.

Challenges Facing NFTs

Environmental Impact: The creation and trading of NFTs, especially on energy-intensive blockchains like Ethereum, have raised concerns about their environmental impact. Efforts are being made to develop more sustainable blockchain solutions, such as Ethereum's transition to a proof-of-stake consensus mechanism.

Market Volatility: The NFT market is highly speculative and can be volatile. Prices for NFTs can fluctuate significantly based on trends, demand, and market sentiment. This volatility poses risks for both creators and investors.

Intellectual Property Issues: NFTs can raise complex intellectual property issues, particularly when it comes to verifying the rightful owner or creator of the digital content. Ensuring that NFTs are legally compliant and respect intellectual property rights is crucial.

Access and Inclusivity: The high costs associated with minting and purchasing NFTs can limit accessibility for some creators and collectors. Reducing these barriers is essential for fostering a more inclusive NFT ecosystem.

Notable NFT Projects

CryptoPunks: CryptoPunks are one of the earliest and most iconic NFT projects. Created by Larva Labs, CryptoPunks are 10,000 unique 24x24 pixel art characters that have become highly sought-after collectibles.

Bored Ape Yacht Club: Bored Ape Yacht Club (BAYC) is a popular NFT collection featuring 10,000 unique hand-drawn ape avatars. Owners of these NFTs gain access to exclusive events and benefits, creating a strong community around the project.

Decentraland: Decentraland is a virtual world where users can buy, sell, and develop virtual real estate as NFTs. This platform allows for the creation of virtual experiences, games, and social spaces, showcasing the potential of NFTs in the metaverse.

NBA Top Shot: NBA Top Shot is a platform that allows users to buy, sell, and trade officially licensed NBA collectible highlights. These video clips, known as "moments," are sold as NFTs and have become popular among sports fans and collectors.

Sexy Meme Coin (SXYM): Sexy Meme Coin integrates NFTs into its platform, offering a decentralized marketplace where users can buy, sell, and trade memes as NFTs. This unique approach combines humor and finance, adding a distinct flavor to the NFT landscape. Learn more about Sexy Meme Coin at Sexy Meme Coin.

The Future of NFTs

The future of NFTs is bright, with continuous innovation and expanding use cases. As technology advances and more industries explore the potential of NFTs, we can expect to see new applications and opportunities emerge. From virtual fashion and digital identities to decentralized finance (DeFi) and beyond, NFTs are poised to reshape various aspects of our digital lives.

Efforts to address environmental concerns, improve accessibility, and ensure legal compliance will be crucial for the sustainable growth of the NFT ecosystem. Collaboration between creators, platforms, and regulators will help build a more robust and inclusive market.

Conclusion

NFTs have ushered in a new era of digital ownership, creativity, and innovation. By providing verifiable ownership and provenance, NFTs are transforming industries ranging from art and entertainment to gaming and virtual real estate. While challenges remain, the potential benefits of NFTs and their ability to empower creators and engage communities make them a significant force in the digital economy.

For those interested in the playful and innovative side of the NFT market, Sexy Meme Coin offers a unique and entertaining platform. Visit Sexy Meme Coin to explore this exciting project and join the community.

#blockchain #defi #ethereum #digitalcurrency #crypto #digitalassets #Sexy Meme Coin

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navybrat817 · 2 years ago

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Preliminary

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: You give Andy a call, but may have more questions than answers. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: No major warnings. Reader is broke (is that a warning?), Andy Barber (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Follow up to Keep the Change and building this world! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you!), but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics, and warning banner by the wonderful @sgt-seabass. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are welcome!

You weren’t sure how you made it through the rest of your shift when all you wanted to do was call Andy. It was late by the time you got home and refused to disturb him at that time. You couldn’t sleep though. Not when your mind raced with the possibilities of what the potential job could be.

Maybe he needs a personal assistant. Could I handle someone that handsome being my boss?

Researching Andy on the internet didn’t calm your thoughts. From what you gathered, he had practiced law before he invested in a friend’s real estate company. When that took off, he invested in additional real estate and a range of various businesses and companies. He did well for himself, but you refused to look at his speculated net worth.

It’s not like he’s going to hand any of his cash directly over to me.

Andy was also single. At least, he wasn't married anymore. A quiet divorce before he made his money. You could only imagine how difficult it had to be for him to date. How many people wanted his money and nothing more?

A man as handsome as him, you couldn't picture him sleeping alone. Was it wrong that your gaze lingered on a few photos of him in his suits? Was his beard as soft as it looked?

You decided to call him the next morning. Normally you would have had your first cup of coffee consumed by then, but you didn’t want to be jittery on the call. Your fingers drummed nervously on the counter anyway as you waited for him to answer. Maybe it was too early. Or maybe he was like you and needed caffeine before he conversed with others.

“This is Andy,” the deep voice rang through the phone once he picked up.

“Hi,” your voice cracked. Cringing, you pulled the phone away to clear your throat. “Sorry about that.”

“Hi, honey. Don’t be sorry. I was expecting your call,” his voice softened, a bashful smile forming on your face when he recognized your voice.

A smile that quickly shifted to a yawn.

This call is off to a wonderful start.

“You didn't just wake up, did you?” he asked. "Did you sleep okay?"

“I'm fine. I just haven’t had my caffeine yet,” you tried to joke.

“I know that feeling,” he chuckled. “I hope it wasn't rude of me to ask. I just want to make sure you’re getting enough rest.”

“So you overtip when someone stiffs me, you want to make sure I’m sleeping enough, and you have a possible job for me?” you asked.

You didn’t want to sound suspicious since he was nothing but kind to you. The question is why he’s so nice. You weren’t naive enough to ignore that he was somewhat of a powerful man. Probably liked being in control. Money could get people like him far. You, on the other hand, didn’t have any. Power, money, anything.

You didn’t want to be a charity case.

“You don’t trust my intentions,” he mused.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought of how to respond. Saying the wrong thing could cost you whatever he had to offer. On the other hand, transparency might be the best option.

“I want to trust your intentions. It’s just that most people today don’t display kindness without expecting something in return,” you said carefully, keeping the device at your ear as you grabbed a coffee mug out of the cupboard. “I don’t want to lump you in that category and I hope it doesn’t sound like I am. I think part of me is waiting for the other shoe to drop because my luck hasn’t been so great. I guess I’m being cautiously optimistic.”

Andy hummed on the other end of the line, but didn’t say anything.

You closed your eyes, an apology on the tip of your tongue as your stomach sank. Why did you have to say what you did? It didn't matter. Beneath the nerves, you were proud of yourself for answering truthfully.

Though at this point, you waited for Andy to tell you to get rid of his card and not call again.

Would it be a blessing if he stopped coming into the diner so you could save face, or a curse that you pissed off a great customer and might never see him again?

"I appreciate your honesty."

You opened your eyes and pulled the phone away for a second to look at it. Surely you misheard him. "You do?"

"Yes, I do. You wouldn't believe how many people tell me what they think I want to hear instead of the truth. Maybe they do it to spare my feelings or avoid confrontation, but it's a hindrance more than anything."

"So you prefer honesty?" you asked. "Even if it's something you don't want to hear?"

"One thing you'll learn about me is that I value honesty," he said.

You wondered how many other things you'd learn.

"An ex-lawyer who likes to hear the truth."

"You did your research on me," he said.

"I may have a little," you admitted, your cheeks hot when he chuckled again.

I can't think a laugh sounds sexy if I work for him.

"Research is a good thing. I would expect anyone to do so before switching jobs."

"Speaking of that," you began, eager to shift the conversation to work and not about looking him up on the internet. "You still haven't told me what this job is all about. I'm not even sure which business it's for."

"Do you have your resume ready?" he asked.

Why isn't he answering my question?

"I do," you answered, glancing at your printer where your recent copy was sitting. "Though I can't exactly tailor it to the specific job if I don't know what it is, Mr. Barber."

"Call me Andy," he said. It was more a command than a suggestion, but somehow made you feel at ease. "I'd prefer to discuss the details in person."

You took a chance by calling, now you could take it a step further and meet him.

"And where would you like to discuss the details, Andy?"

"Are you free for lunch today? We can meet at The Courthouse at 12pm."

The Courthouse was one of the nicest restaurants in the city. The tip Andy left you the night before could maybe cover the price of an entree. Thankfully you still had a couple of decent outfits from when you had an office job.

"I'm free," you said. Luckily you had the day off. "I didn't know they were open for lunch."

"They usually open at 4pm, but they make exceptions."

What's it like to have that kind of sway over anyone?

"I don't want to go to the trouble of doing that."

"I already did," he said confidently. "I told you I was expecting your call."

"What if I had to work today?" you asked.

"I would have had to find a way to convince you to call in. And if I have my way, you'll be quitting there very soon."

"That's if I accept the job," you said, smiling as you leaned your hip against the counter. "But I'll be happy to discuss the details over lunch."

"I can send a car to pick you up," he offered.

"I'll take a cab, but thank you."

A car was too much for a job discussion and you didn't want his driver to see where you lived.

"I'll cover the cost of the cab and lunch," he said, leaving you no room to protest. "I look forward to seeing you."

You tapped a fingertip against your mug when he hung up. His businesses looked legitimate, so you didn't believe he would ask you to do something illegal. He also didn't seem like the type to waste his time and play games.

You had nothing to lose.

Here's to being cautiously optimistic.

Are we excited to meet Andy for lunch? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Andy Barber Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #sugar daddy!andy barber x reader #andy barber #sugar daddy!andy barber #andy barber imagine #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you

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shunsuiken · 2 years ago

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A LITTLE SECRET | SAGAU

synopsis. you, the divine creator of teyvat, discover one day that your blood can heal.

tags. gn!reader + hurt/comfort + fluff + you bring childe and kazuha into a domain (xiangling and bennett are honorary mentions) + reader wants ragbros to reconcile + zhongli and ayato are sparring partners + itto gets hurt but don’t worry we heal him + gorou is still traumatised after the war between the shogunate army & the sangonomiya resistance so pls understand his reaction here + reader thinks everyones gonna be mad at them but thats not true + they tease you in the end and its all adorable <3 hehe

warnings. mentions of blood (obviously), self-harm (??? because reader cuts their wrist to obtain the blood), if i missed anything pls lmk !!

wc. 2.6k

an. incredible how brainrot makes you write things so quickly. i only just indulged myself into sagau’s literally a week ago and now this is here 😀

“now wasn’t that quite the fight!” childe wipes sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, letting his bow dematerialise in the air as he strides into the estate in your abode.

“you were rather ruthless out there, i must say.” kazuha removes his bandages and replaces them with a clean roll in a cupboard. “their grace looked concerned when that cryo abyss mage shot a cryo thorn at you.”

“true but these scars will heal like they were never even there!” sometimes kazuha wonders if the fatui harbinger feels any pain, he must, he thinks, but is most likely good at hiding it.

“would you like to bandage that at least?”

“hm, i could but-”

“kazuha! ajax!” you call with your sweet voice from the kitchen and all the men’s heads in the living room whip around in the direction of your voice. speaking of you… they haven’t seen you since you and your party left the domain.

“yes, your grace?” childe replies, a light blush appearing on his face upon the use of his real name.

kazuha smiles lightly behind him, greeting you as you enter the living room. “your grace.”

“here are your vitamins, you two!” you bring two cups of a mysteriously transparent liquid to them. “i’ve already given these to xiangling and bennett and now it's your turns!”

“oh, it’s this drink again.” childe raises his brows. “you gave it to us last time as well, your grace.”

you hum in agreement, “i did.”

kazuha inspects the liquid after taking it from your precious hands. “the ingredients for this healing mixture must be incredibly difficult to find since it heals wounds so quickly.” he then drinks it up with childe, both men handing the cups back to you in a respectable fashion.

kazuha is right about that. the ingredients for this drink are definitely difficult to find.

but that is because the drink was your blood. your golden blood to be precise. when you descended as the creator of teyvat, you were naturally bestowed with this condition to discern your immortal body from others.

funnily enough, it was all due to you scraping your palm against a rough rock that you discovered the hidden properties of your blood (and its rich golden colour). it was weird in the beginning, and you made sure to guarantee how highly your blood’s healing properties were before offering it to the men who joined you in domains and open-world fights. so you only declared its potential after flinging yourself through multiple enemies.

so far you’ve managed to hide this fact from the men since you found out. after learning some illusory spells that can’t be detected by the naked eye, you were able to successfully heal your men after feeding them your blood—referring to it as “vitamins”.

“your grace, what’s the secret recipe behind this amazing drink? maybe i could learn it to help you if any more of us get hurt.” you feel bad, thoma looks like he has stars in his eyes but you obviously can’t tell him how the drink is made. you can already imagine it. he’d panic and go all red in the face. although a cute sight, you don’t want him to worry about you since he and the rest have done so much to smoothen your descent into teyvat.

you also notice the expectant eyes of the other men who are behind him, either idly standing by or are on the couch relaxing.

“oh thoma, there is a reason why it’s a secret.” you wink at him, extending your index finger to your lips. you end up laughing at the housekeeper when the red on his face makes it up to his ears, a sheepish look on his face for asking such a question with an obvious answer.

“my apologies, your grace. i didn’t mean to pry.” the pyro user scratches the back of his head while ayato, who sips on his boba milk tea, pats his back sympathetically.

“don’t apologise, dearest, it is natural you all are curious.” you meet eyes with everyone in the room, hoping your words can convince them. “but don’t fret, this is just a way of me giving my thanks to all your preparations when i arrived here.”

“your grace is too kind.” kazuha smiles. “therefore we shall accept your offerings wholeheartedly.”

you’re praying (to who knows what, you’re literally the most powerful being on teyvat) that the boys can forgive you if they ever found out. but you have a sinking feeling that they’ll all feel betrayed instead because they wouldn’t ever want you to hurt yourself to heal them. just thinking about it makes your heart break. so you quickly shove those worries away, as long as the boys stay safe then it is worth the minuscule second of pain.

you’re reading a book next to kaeya while he completes paperwork. he decided to do his work outside the confines of the wooden walls so he could get some fresh air instead (news flash: he actually just wants to be in your presence). after a while, diluc comes along with a glass of grape juice in his hands. he greets you and stares at his brother. “kaeya,” he greets before sitting down opposite of him.

kaeya raises his head, giving him a nod of acknowledgement. “diluc.”

you twitch your eye at the dry interaction in front of you. perhaps you should add this to your list of things to accomplish, to help these two estranged brothers and connect them once again. no doubt would the two be happier. obviously they will need as much time as possible to settle things. and you are willing to give them exactly that. time. you sigh underneath your breath, listening to the distant cling and clangs of a polearm and a sword.

hm, perhaps they’re sparring? you remove your gaze from your book to the two figures in the distance. ah, it seems to be zhongli and ayato. now that is an interesting pairing. however, your moment of peace is interrupted by panicked shouts for help at the front door. you exchange alarmed looks with the two brothers in front of you, getting up quickly from your seats to attend to the shouts that are coming from… you believe, gorou.

your face pales at the sight in front of you, there is a large gash right across itto’s stomach, blood pooling out of him like a flowing river. immediately you kneel down to his figure supported by gorou, who is startled by the entire situation as he relays what happened.

“we were looking for onikabuto but itto’s wind glider broke and he fell through the trees in chinju forest!” gorou’s tail is raised high up in alarm, ears stiff and skin running cold at the sight of his comrade in this state. it brings him too many memories. too many unfortunate ones that make his hands shake.

you hold onto his hand tightly, returning him to the present so he doesn’t focus on what he saw behind the look in his eyes anymore. he raises his head to meet your gaze. your gaze that does not falter, your gaze that urges him: trust me.

gorou does, giving you some space to heal itto with your abilities. it then dawns on gorou that he’s never seen you heal anybody with your abilities. and when you did heal people, it was with that liquid you would bring to them.

the men who are on site look at you with anticipation because they’ll finally get to see how you prepare that healing concoction. but they’re also exchanging gazes at each other in concern for itto. the oni groans in pain, clutching onto the gushing wound. you have no time to waste. materialising his claymore, you quickly slash your skin against the sharp edge as your blood spills onto itto’s wound.

you hear various reactions. cries of shock, quiet gasps, and protests that plead you to stop your actions.

“y- your grace?!” gorou gasps, brows creasing in bewilderment while his hands hover awkwardly in front of him, unsure of what to do next.

“so that’s why they never told us how the ‘vitamins’ were made,” the wanderer mutters but everybody hears him clearly.

the men are smart enough to put two and two together. seeing your divine blood trickle down your arm onto itto’s wound that healed the second it made contact with your blood threw them all into a speechless stupor. they weren’t even expecting the liquid to be such a dazzling colour that would reflect the light of the afternoon sun.

when the wound heals completely, you wipe the remaining streaks of itto’s blood off using your sleeves. and magically, your slashed skin is healed too. you reach for itto’s cheek, caressing him. “you are alright, my dear. you can open your eyes now.”

itto responds with a tired whine.

zhongli takes a step forward, kneeling down to meet your height to gently hold your forearm, his thumb running over the skin that was ripped open just a second ago. “so i’m assuming this is the secret recipe to the vitamins?”

you can’t lie to the boys anymore now that they’ve seen it all so you nod your head, admitting the truth. “yes, it is.” you don’t dare meet zhongli’s amber gaze, which is why you don’t notice the glint of worry he looks at you with. instead, you jump to conclusions and think that he’s disappointed in you. they probably all are, you convince yourself.

“gorou, let’s carry him inside.”

the men collectively jolt in alarm, they can’t possibly let you carry the oni into the estate. even if they saw your arm heal itself, you’re still their creator! they can’t just let you perform physical tasks like that when they’re available. so heizou and tighnari take it upon themselves to help the general carry him inside and onto the couches.

while the others are distracted you quietly retreat to the kitchen to make an escape through the back door but the second you turn on your heel, your face is met by somebody’s chest.

“you didn’t think what we saw would go unspoken, did you?” just your luck, it’s alhaitham. you’re definitely not getting out of this one.

you avert your gaze to the very interesting stove behind him, grimacing. “i was just about to grab some food for itto,” you lie through your teeth.

cyno suddenly appears beside alhaitham, crossing his arms. “we know you’re concerned for itto but the oni has a strong spirit. he’ll be fine.” he tilts his head. “however, i believe we deserve an explanation.”

the grip you have on your cloak tightens, staring at cyno as your heart thumps like its right beside your ears. “uh,” you begin, turning around to see that all their attention has fallen onto you, including itto who peeks over the spine of the couch.

“o- okay, well, initially i wanted to say something about it however, i’m also aware of how protective you all can be towards me and i realised if i did tell you all, then i wouldn’t be able to heal all of you quick enough after battling domains and open-world fights,” you trail off, continuing in softer voice, “i’m not doubting any of your abilities—i’m just concerned and mean well because majority of you are mortals. and mortals get hurt more easily than those of the adepti and other immortal beings—even when you wield a vision.” you sigh, shamefaced. “it appears my plan has turned on me, very well, if any of you believe i’m deserving of a punishment then i shall gladly-”

“woah woah woah, who said anything about a punishment, your grace?” although heizou would have preferred you to finish your sentence, he can barely get through the first few words. you clearly made your statement and proved your points. there is no need for punishment when you have already proven yourself.

“your grace, you are too kind for your own good!” venti shakes his head fondly. “you were only looking out for us in the first place, what position are we in to complain? you’ve also revealed your condition so i think we’re all even.”

you nod your head hesitantly, a tense atmosphere radiating off of you. “i just don’t like seeing any of you injured so terribly. it’s too much for me to bear.”

it’s silent for a while. everyone’s thinking of words to say. their creator doesn’t normally express their emotions so when they do, it renders even the best of linguists in the room silent.

itto groans, turning his head animatedly towards everyone. “jeez! you guys are acting like somebody just died!” the oni cannot stand the intense silence, it makes his body jittery and he has to say something to break it. he taps his finger on his temple, shaking his head dramatically. “your grace is the only one who can get these serious people quiet like this!”

aether raises a brow at the oni, folding his arms. “looks like you’re all better, aren’t you?”

itto’s eyes return to your figure. you feel like a spotlight is shining on you from the bright expression on his face as he rambles, “and that’s because their grace is super amazing, super cool, super smart and super-”

“i think their grace understands.” the wanderer interrupts him before looking at you. “you should tell us how you discovered your condition, we’ll be all ears.”

you’re caught off guard, lowering your gaze to the floor again as your face heats up. “u- uh.”

“you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” xiao reminds you.

however, the men in the room have keen eyes and notice the change in your expression. how is it that the memory of discovering your condition made you react like this? now that makes them all wonder…

“ooh your expression changed your grace, was it perhaps an embarrassing memory?” kaeya teases, squinting his eye.

you fold your arms, feigning ignorance but your shaky gaze does nothing to defend you. “it was nothing of the sort.”

“oh really?” tighnari presses on. you’re sweating now.

“their grace must have been experimenting.” ayato defends you suavely but a glint of mischief shines in his lavender stare. “a little slip and slide of a few sharp objects is inevitable, no?”

“correct.” albedo nods his head, holding his chin with his thumb and a curled index finger. “however, since their grace can heal themself now, the discovery must have been… an accident?” he tilts his head, eyelids falling lower as he gives you the look you’ve seen on his face countless of times when he teases you.

your face boils like a kettle, you swear there’s steam coming out of your ears too. you snap your head away from their cheeky expressions. “you all are too much.” you huff, turning on your heel, because you somehow believe you can successfully leave the room when they all are eager to tease you like this.

“uh-uh, your grace!” venti blocks you from leaving through the back door. “after such a long day, don’t you think we’re worthy of your affection?”

you blink owlishly at the bard. “you all always are.”

venti coos at your words and the others can’t help but react similarly.

you sigh like an exhausted parent before pulling on a smile always reserved for them. “then how about you all join me on the couch while i tell you about my life in the other world?”

the men are quick to guide you to your seat in the middle of the couch. aether shushes itto because he started yelling in excitement, the wanderer and xiao have a glaring contest in order to sit beside you (somehow alhaitham and cyno are doing the exact same thing on the other side), kaeya and thoma prepare drinks and snacks for everyone and the rest make peace with the seats they’re sat at. as long as you are in their view, not a single complaint leaves their lips.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #sagau x reader

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