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the-jordas-trials · 24 days ago

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ramble continueing here

SO! All the classes, in my personal hc, theres four 'standard' classes (with plenty of things in between, but more often than not those will fall into any of the four main groups):

Escalation: Escalation is technically the first class of earthmovers ever made. They're walking armaments. Armed to the teeth with anti air counters, heat flairs, machine guns, harpoons, lasers. If its capable of ripping apart a warship, you can bet it was plasted all over an Escalation classes hide. They're more often than not highly aggressive, and have the second best vision out of the classes. Their javelins also pack a nasty punch and are capable of ripping through lesser shield generators. Escalations went through quite a few iterations before the main default design was settled upon. Scavengers: Says what they do on the tin! They're corpse retrieval and processors. They were born in a mad dash effort during the first few months of the earthmovers not having shields just yet, thus when the first one went down, there was absolute international chaos in order to bag the corpse first. Whoever got their hands on it could potentially make their own, or even form an entire counter machine. Ultimately it was (what was left of) Australia who got their hands on the corpse first. Scavengers are by far the most sturdy of the lot, with larger legs to better support not only their own weight, but whatever haul they end up retrieving. Each Scavenger has their own dedicated 'hanger' so to speak (typically owned by one company) where they haul back their scrap. Some, like Whalefall, were designed to haul back entire corpse to be repurposed or fixed up (with Whalefall herself being an Scav for hire, she owed no allegiance to any company or country) Civilian: Built purely to get whatever remained of humanity off the ground. They have by far the strongest shields, to the point where an entire class of shield generators were built just for them. They're the lest confrontational of the four, and generally have two modes, Feed and Maintain. Feed themselves, Maintain their cities (and populations). Out of all the classes, they exhibit the best herding behavior, and are the most tolerable to other earthmovers. Civilian herds have been known to stand up, and even take down rivaling Escalations who dared to pick a fight. Plateau: These guys are all rounders, given their age. These guys started to pop up close to the end of the war, and are generally all rounders. They're typically smaller, given the earth quite litterally started to run out of metal and materials to build stuff. They're by far the swiftest of the bunch, with a higher Feed drive than a Maintain drive. If there was word of thin cloud cover, these guys would be the first there. Hybrids/dualclass: while not an official class, they're not common but not rare either. They're seen as bastards, unfortunately. Most hybrids/dualclasses tend to be Civilians mixed in with something else, more often than not Scavengers. Some are made right off the bat as a dualclass, but more often than not an Earthmover is wounded, or even felled, and are decommissioned into a civilian class while maintaining whatever they did before. Pyro was Very close to being decommissioned and kicked down into the Civilian class before he went apeshit bananas

Within those classes there's subclasses: Supreme, Greater, Standard, Lesser (these follow the same sorta brackets as the machine classes in game!): Supreme: they're big, they're powerful. These guys rarely fail their jobs. They're crowned kings, queens and royalty. They're a nightmare to take down and on, more often than not these lot have varying tricks up their sleeves (Whalefall being a dual class, Pyro and Pompeii's fire, Transform's population). Supremes can wipe out entire herds, cities, islands, and typically can only be bested by another Supreme, a herd of Greater's or sheer dumb luck. Greater: they're a step below Supreme's, still tough as nails. Supreme's can be knocked down to Greater classes either through age, being downed, or in general just slowing down. Still a nightmare to go up against. Standard: They're earthmovers with little to their name. They do their job, they do it well. No tricks, no tomfoolery. Just a big ol warhorse. Lesser: Like Plateaus, these guys showed up during the later moments of the war. They're the slap dash guys, juryrigged from whatever was around. They get stomped on (sometimes literally) and are often reguarded as the blood bags of the earthmover world. Unless they're apart of the Colt/Filly herd. Then good fucking luck, the adoptees wont let you get close. this concludes the class essay!

now the fun part! Pyroclastic and his city: Lets be real here. Pyro sucked to live on, but it was manageable. Each house basically had to run 24/7 cooling inside and Pyro's water intake was something terrifying. He could outright drain entire lakes in order to keep up water cooling for said housing. Preventing himself from overheating was fairly easy, he just had to keep moving and keep on venting his heat, which almost always resulted in a massive ash cloud following him everywhere he went. He was by far the most traceable of the earthmovers just by the sheer destruction he left behind. Most of his city was centered close to his center back and spine, as to avoid the super heated air, the city also had massive fans installed at the perimeter to blow away hot air/smog/ash

Pyroclastic and Pompeii: They're brothers! Both were manufactured at the same time and traveled together for a short while before splintering. They cared deeply for one another and would outright refuse to attack one another even if they stumbled across one another. Unfortunately, Pompeii was taken down only a few years into his service, Pyro didnt take it well at all. Pompeii himself was an oddbod. He had an extreme fascination with plant life (and in turn a massive fascination, dare i say crush, on Habitat), as a result he was something of a pacifist, more intending on retreating than squaring up, despite his class. He was a goofball, and probably would've survived the Long Night if he wasnt shot down early on. Due to how passive he was, and how content he was with roaming a small area, he didnt run as hot as Pyro, still plenty hot, but not hot enough to quite literally burn the air like his brother did. He used to sit with his front limbs crossed. He was a gentleman. Tsunami! My beloved. She's a goofus. Someone took one look at those warhorses and said "hey what if we slammed one into the ocean" and then did just that. She had no population of her own, given she spent literally her whole life wading along the coasts being an absolute menace to any machine, earthmover or otherwise, that dared visit the coast for a beach episode. She was largely regarded as the queen of the sea, and was uncontested for years. She was always swift to take down any earthmover build similar to herself. She sucked DOGSHIT on land though. Fish out of water. She made the ultimate mistake late into the Long Night while low on blood, braving the coast in order to refuel and was wounded by Habitat and later picked off by Geyser. She actually plays a small part for my other ocs, namely my bootleg vee named VJ. She became a safe haven for machines fleeing hell during its collapse. She went down with her solar panels intact, allowing her corpse to still produce some blood,enough for any traveling machines to stock up untill they stumbled across the next fuel source, even after all these years dead, her javelin 'trident' still shines gold.

General Rambling Time: okay okay okay so. I like to headcannon that Earthmover's have a form of sign language with their javelin. Despite having No Fingers and literally being a lightning stick. The language is VERY expressive, and they're capable of holding entire conversations with them. However most of the time they prefer to use their regular transmissions. But! there is one universal sign that is used constantly! And thats the sign for peace! Peace is signaled by the javelin being held directly skywards, with the joint pointed towards whoever they're initiating peace with. This is like a rabbit flopping in front of a lion or a tiger exposing its throat to another or someone quite literally leaning their forehead against the barrel of a gun. Its a MASSIVE sign of trust, and more often than not, the call for peace is heralded.

Whalefall and Starshine: okay i could ramble about these two sisters for eons and eons but! i mentioned the two survived the Long Night! The girls were smart, and sought out one of the still standing manufacturers in the southern hemisphere. (Aussie bias here but i like to hc that the south hemisphere did better than the northern), Called The Australian Bunker Network. Says what it says on the tin, they were a massive bunker network underground, factories, cloning chambers, cities, you name it, it was underground. They were a big name, to the point during the new peace they mannaged to not only get their hands on the vee blueprints, but also had the honor of ordering a custom v2 unit (named V-D1, otherwise known as Dingo. They even ended up producing two more units, V-13L or Blackhead and VJ or Jackrabbit. Theres a WHOLE story behind these three btw) Whalefall and Starshine basically booked it there once the climate catastrophe hit its peak and earthmovers started to stave to death. The bunkers, in theory, could supply them with blood to survive, and they in turn would provide their weaponry and shields in defense. And the deal worked out! For a very long time! If it wasnt for the fact the robot uprising happened, the two girls would've thrived long into the new peace and beyond. With Whalefall being the ultimate survivor and quite literally the last Earthmover alive on the surface. Pyroclastic also survived the Long Night and the climate catastrophe. However, he survived purely by turning complete and utter cannibal. Most of the time when Earthmover's fight, they just aim for the head. Pyro didnt during the Long Night. He'd intentionally go for the legs, down his target, then chow down on the city and the poor people atop. Then he'd move onto the still alive earthmover. Then rinse and repeat. His kill count skyrocketed and due to his heat, he was able to withstand the blizzards that ended up gripping the planet. He was a cruel and sadistic little shit. But he calmed down eventually, mostly in Hell after stumbling across Cyclone and realizing his anger against Whalefall was skin deep. He adopts Cyclone in Hell and is genuinely a good dad lmao. Surprising to none, Eruption ALSO survived the Long Night, But was ultimately swarmed and basically eaten from the inside out during the Machine Uprising, poor man couldnt catch a break. He spawned in Hell and the first thing out of his mouth was "GOD. FUCKING. DAMMIT". Rumor has it he slammed his head so hard into the floor of violence he managed to pierce clean into fraud and is now stuck with his ass in the air. The rumor is true. Someone please fucking help him

hi hello im so incredibly ill over ur guys (earthmovers)

genuinely fascinated with them and i have so many questions so im gonna dump them on u

but first off! obsessed with so many of them. i love their personalities and just how unique they all r. taking a basic concept then going wild with it is truly the best outcome with these guys bc i didnt even CONSIDER how unique they could be. which then leads to me asking how you came up with them?

but questions!! questions questions questions! im wondering about the classes they all have. like supreme escalation, supreme scavenger, lesser plateau, standard civilian, etc. im really curious about wut they all mean

question about pyroclastic specifically! how did people live on him if he was constantly hot? was there safety stuff that allowed people on him stay cool and not overheat?

also pompeii and pyro seem to be very similar. are they the same model? and im wondering if pompeii has a similar personality as pyro or if pompeii is different

and as i said in my reblog im already enraptured by tsunami. lil guy is just. in the water. is tsunami made specifically for being in water? are there others like it? can other earthmovers go in the water or is it just tsunami?

now with my own questions over im giving you this space to ramble more about your Creechurs freely

hello hii hello hello im glad you're liking my silly goofy war honses! however, you have just activated my trap card via asking me to talk more about them, you now have a new objective: survive this massive essay im about to launch into! The concept of Earthmovers grabbed me by the ear and dragged me directly into hyperfixation land to which i havnt been able to recover from! I personally love to take the concept of something and just pry it apart to see how i can stretch the concept to its limit. And Ultrakill has a VERY stretchable concept of everything. Mainly the fact that blood itself seemingly is what gives things a soul, free will and a drive to live. And so i thought to myself, huh, Earthmovers are filled with alot of blood! i wonder what they'd be like beyond v1 ripping them down. What's their personality line, do they have an honor code? What're their thoughts like. How do they view death? Is fighting something they do willingly or is it a calling? Do they have a culture amongst themselves? Are they viewed as gods to other machines? All theses questions, and so Whalefall spawned in almost instantly, followed by Starshine, Tsunami, Pyro and Pompeii, the rest of the gang, Cyclone and then a few handfull of others! Edit: OKAY SO TUMBLR IS BEING A LITTLE BABY SO I'LL HAVE TO ADD LITERALLY EVERYTHING I WROTE IN A REBLOG I PROMMY I HAVE ALOT OF RAMBLES

#jordas’ rambling

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dycefic · 3 years ago

Text

Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it. They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

#welcome to Evil Mart #good is not just good #evil is not just evil #people are complicated #and so is retail #tw graphic #tw gore #tw violence #tw murder #it's a supervillain story #supervillain shit happens #you are now warned

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chefdoeuvre · 3 years ago

Text

Aftermath

Jay Halstead

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Sister!Reader

Description: People always tend to forget about the aftermath.

Words: 2,122

Requested: yes by anonymous; second, if it's ok i wanted to request a part two to the imagine? i was wondering if you could just explore the aftermath of her assault, as she continues to heal and accept what's happened to her. by this i mean experiencing ptsd and having nightmares, flashbacks and dealing with certain triggers. also, maybe she could still sometimes turn to substances as many survivors do, and just break down sometimes. obviously since it's a halstead sister fic and i love the support system in the last story, i'd love to see jay helping her through everything and being super protective + some scenes with the rest of intelligence? but it's obviously up to you. thank you so much <3

Warnings: mention of drinking, sexual assault, drugs, language, PTSD, Jay Halstead and all of Intelligence being the best.

A/N: This is the long awaited part two to Infliction, and by long-awaited I mean like a month later. I tried to make the end light hearted because it seemed like a good way to go. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.

—

It had been a few weeks since the party and things were beginning to look up. You and Brayden started hanging out more and it was safe to say the two of you were on your way to becoming best friends. The group of guys had all been arrested and sent far away from you. You, Jay, and Will have been having more frequent family movie nights instead of them heading out to Molly's every free night they got. Intelligence had basically adopted you as one of their own and even went out of their way to hang out with you. Kim and Hailey had girls nights away from the ever-annoying guys they work with. Adam and Kevin practically chauffeured you to hangouts with Brayden and took you out to your favorite diner on the weekends. Even Hank had called you once in a while as a check-in and to keep you informed about your case. Overall things seemed to be getting better for you.

Except for one little detail. Your PTSD was hitting you like a truck. Of course, the only person who even remotely knew what was happening was Brayden because he was the one person you spent most of your time with. Thankfully he was there to help ground you and calm you down when it all became too much for you. This wasn't sudden, it's been building up since it happened and clearly you needed to work on accepting it rather than shoving it all down. That's one thing you and Jay had in common, the two of you always had trouble addressing your problems no matter how big they became.

Currently, you were laying in bed and staring up at your ceiling that Jay had covered in stars for you. If there was one thing about you is that you still are a child at heart. You had been shocked awake by your recurring nightmare. It always followed the same premise of the night of the party but every night there were either different people, points of view, or different actions you took that still led you to the same outcome. There were dried tears staining your cheeks that you hadn't bothered to wipe away and every few moments there would be a soft sniffle to break the eerie silence.

Having enough of staring up at your ceiling you let out a low huff and pushed yourself up to a sitting position. You turned to the side and looked at the clock resting on your nightstand. The clock read 4:19 AM which was clearly too early for you to be up but too late for you to try and go back to sleep before Jay's rustling while getting ready would wake you up. Reaching over to open the drawer in your nightstand you checked the small bottle hidden under the glasses case that held your blue light ones. It was three-quarters full of vodka you had inconspicuously stolen from Jay's cabinet. You kept promising yourself that you wouldn't drink anymore, but clearly, that wasn't really panning out in your favor. Sure you would have a swig or two before braving yourself and heading off to school but it was to take the edge off, not to get drunk.

If Jay were to check through your drawer he'd probably think otherwise. You had stopped with the pills since he had found you, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him so you continued to drink. Obviously, it wasn't a lot and definitely not enough to get you drunk off your ass. You just wanted to be buzzed enough to have the courage to walk into your dreaded school every morning and deal with the numerous triggers you kept on discovering.

Eventually, it was time for you actually start getting ready for school. Jay had already left for work a while ago, leaving a kiss on your head before stepping out the door. You pulled on a random outfit that was comfortable and your usual pair of shoes before throwing your backpack over your shoulder and walked downstairs. Deciding against your worst judgment you made the choice to brave the day without the buzz of alcohol. Waiting at the front entrance of your building was Brayden. Like every morning the two of you would walk to school together if Jay had to go into the district early. If Jay only had paperwork that day he would drive the two of you to school instead, but that didn't happen very often.

The two of you walked to school silently, only exchanging a few words of greeting. Once you had made it to the large building you both had to split up for your classes. The day went on like usual, boring teachers droning on about upcoming assignments and tests. Lunch had arrived after what seemed like forever and you sat at an empty table practically half asleep. You held your head in your hand as you kept your eyes from slipping shut at the exhaustion.

"You not feeling too hot there?" One of your classmates from English asked as he passed by.

You froze at the familiar words before shaking yourself out of the memory.

"Fine, just tired." You brushed off their comment as he nodded with an understanding smile before continuing to his table.

Moments later the door opened and you picked your head up reluctantly. It was a few guys on the football team.

"You not feeling too hot there?" One of the seniors asked you.

You simply shook your head which only worsened the pain in it. The boys walked a few steps closer before placing their hands on your shoulders. They shoved you back onto the bed and immediately your body began to react.

You kicked and punched aimlessly to get them off of you but your movements were uncoordinated and your mind was foggy. There were too many of them and they began to overpower you, their hands wandering to unwanted places.

“Y/N?” Brayden’s voice pulled you out of the flashback.

“Huh?” Your teary eyes darted around his face before focusing on his concerned expression.

“Let’s head to the library, all right?” Brayden suggested already standing up from his seat across from you.

You nodded silently before hiking your bag over your shoulder and walked to the library beside him. Luckily at your school, they were lenient enough to let you head to the library during lunch. Usually, the kids didn’t take advantage of it but it was an unspoken spot of peace for you and Brayden.

The two of you sat at a table near the back and Brayden pulled a chair up beside you.

“Want to talk about what happened back at lunch?” Brayden asked softly.

You bit your lip in contemplation. This had been happening for weeks and every time you’d shake your head and change the subject. But the fact was it wasn’t getting better and you just needed to tell somebody that you weren’t okay. A few tears slipped out of your eyes which led to quiet sobs escaping from your lips. Brayden offered you a hug with outstretched arms, making sure to check if you were okay with it. You leaned forward into his embrace and squeezed his waist tightly. He held you there while rubbing soothing circles on your back until your cries stopped. You lifted your head off his chest and wiped away the remained tears on your cheeks before speaking up.

“Uh, flashbacks. I’ve been getting them for a while. I thought they’d go away, but they haven’t.” You explained with a sigh, avoiding his gaze and instead taking interest in your hands.

“Okay first, if they happen again tell me, or pull on my sleeve and I’ll get you somewhere quiet. Got it?” Brayden bent his head to try and get into your eye line.

You nodded your head with a hum before he spoke up again, “since they haven’t gone away maybe you should talk to someone. Preferably a professional, but if you’re only comfortable telling me then I’m all ears. Although, I’m not sure that I can cure you with magic, wish I could though.” Brayden tried to lighten the mood with his magic comment.

“Thanks, Brayden. Jay actually has been bugging me about seeing a therapist. Said it helped him with his PTSD, I think I might take him up on it.” You looked up at the boy with pursed lips.

“That’s good. Just know we’re not trying to force you into anything, we just want you to feel better however long that may take.” Brayden gave you a soft smile.

“You are wise beyond your years, you know that?” You smiled back with a small laugh.

“I try, I try.” Brayden shrugged nonchalantly.

“Can you come with me to the district after school?” You asked cautiously.

“Of course, not like I’d rather do my homework.” Brayden laughed.

“And there’s the Brayden I know.” You smiled widely.

Soon enough you and Brayden had been making your way to the twenty-first district to talk with Jay and probably the rest of Intelligence. The air was lighter between the two of you once you had finally started to open up. Of course, you hadn’t spilled everything but the little you had told him made the weight on your shoulders lessen slightly.

“Ah, baby Halstead and company, what brings you here?” Trudy greeted from the front desk with a tight-lipped smile. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, she had a soft spot for you.

“Can you ring us upstairs? I need to talk with Jay.” You asked.

“You’re lucky they haven’t caught a case today.” Trudy walked out from behind her desk and led you and Brayden upstairs.

“Thank you, Trudy.” You smiled and followed the woman.

“I have a special delivery for Detective Chuckles.” Trudy spoke up once the three of you reached the top of the steps.

Jay’s head snapped up from his desk with a look of confusion when his eyes landed on you. He quickly stood up and scanned you over for anything.

“What happened, are you all right?” Jay cupped your cheek in concern before sparing a glance at Brayden for any sign of something bad.

“I’m okay, I just needed to talk to you.” You reassured him.

“All right. You wanna head into the kitchen?” Jay asked.

“No, we could talk at your desk. They’re all gonna find out anyway.” You gestured to the rest of the unit who was watching the two of you intently.

Jay nodded his head and led you to his desk. You reached out and held onto Brayden’s arm as you pulled him along to take a seat and sit beside you. Of course, at this, the entire unit had gathered around with concerned faces once you started to explain to them. Jay’s expression was held with soft eyes as he listened to you agree with wanting to try therapy and asking for help.

Once you were done Jay stood up and placed a kiss on the top of your head before whispering into your hair, “I’m proud of you.” Jay pulled away to give you a warm smile.

“All right come here you little muffin.” Kim held out her arms with a smile.

You stepped forward into her embrace as she squeezed you tightly, she rocked the two of you from side to side eliciting a small giggle out of you. Hailey joined the hug with a laugh once Kim pulled her by the arm.

Antonio placed a hand on your shoulder once you, Hailey, and Kim pulled away, “I’m proud of you, kiddo.” He offered you a kind nod.

“So proud.” Kevin gave you one of his signature bear hugs.

“Okay, it’s my turn.” Adam squeezed his way to stand in front of you. Which caused everyone to laugh at his eagerness.

“I could never forget about you, Ruz.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he lifted your toes off the ground.

“Are we done yet? You guys are treating my sister like an attraction.” Jay sassed.

“You’re just mad that you only got to kiss me on the head and not a hug.” You retorted from leaning back into Brayden with a smirk.

“No, not true.” Jay shook his head with furrowed brows.

“Yup, totally jealous.” You nodded convinced.

“How did we go from a serious topic to Halstead and mini Halstead having a sarcasm battle?” Adam questioned with a confused expression.

“I learned to stop questioning it.” Brayden shrugged from behind you.

“It’s how we cope. Halstead thing, I guess.” You said with raised brows.

“Fair enough.” Jay sighed.

#chicago pd fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #request #one shot #one chicago #one chicago fanfiction #one chicago imagine #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x sister!reader #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: Something causes Lan Qiren to just SNAP, go absolutely fucking feral, and run off to become a rogue cultivator.

Beautifully Spent

- Chapter 1 -

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

“It is your duty, Qiren.”

“Is it?” Lan Qiren asked coldly. “I believe you��re thinking of my brother. You might remember him – the sect leader?”

He’d never spoken that coldly to anyone, least of all an honored elder, one of his own teachers, but he had no choice.

Ever since he was young, Lan Qiren wanted to become a traveling musician - to wander the world freely, without the burdens that would fall on his older brother, the prospective sect leader. Even as he got older, he'd never quite let go of that ambition, refining it until it had become not only a dream but a plan.

He would see that plan come to fruition, no matter what it took.

His teacher looked at him helplessly. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked. “You know your brother has chosen seclusion –”

“I know that in the eyes of the sect I have never been a quarter the man he is,” Lan Qiren said quietly. “I know that in each instance that we have argued, you have all taken his side. I know that I was asked, time and time again, to yield – because he is the elder, because he is the heir, because he is the more talented of us two. I have always yielded, because I am a filial son, a good brother, and I love my sect. I have always yielded.”

His teacher cast his eyes down to the ground.

An acknowledgement of guilt.

“I will not yield this time,” Lan Qiren said simply. “This is the rest of my life, honored teacher. This is my entire life. For once, let himbe the one to yield – to do his duty to his sect, as he was always meant to.”

“But –”

“I have always been here for him.” Lan Qiren did not allow him to interrupt. “I have been his scapegoat when things have not gone his way, I have been his pawn in political games, I have even been his punching bag when he needed to vent his irrational anger. Everything he has had the freedom to do, he has done because he has had me here. If I were not here, would he be able to go into seclusion?”

His teacher was silent.

“He would not,” Lan Qiren concluded. “To go into seclusion when you are the only option to lead the sect is to be an unfilial descendant of our ancestors. And so, if I am not here, he would be obligated to live up to his duties.”

“His heart has just been broken. Do you have no empathy for him?”

“As much as I do for the woman who was forced by circumstances to agree to marry him, and no more.”

“Qiren…”

“Think of it as me being dead, honored teacher,” Lan Qiren said, and ignored his teacher’s flinch at such inauspicious words. “Do you need me to remove my forehead ribbon before I go?”

“Qiren! Of course not!”

“Ask my brother,” Lan Qiren said dryly. “He will have the final word, as usual, and he does not like not getting his way.”

He left that day, his head held high.

He did his best not to think of his brother, who had, in his own way, wanted freedom, too.

Lan Qiren travelled, after that. It was just as he’d always planned it: quiet nights along forest paths, visits to small towns in out-of-the-way corners of the world – inquiring and then solving any issues they had that required a cultivator, and playing for them when no such issues remained. He had anticipated hardship, knowing himself to be a rich young master who’d never really faced the world; he hadn’t anticipated kindness: a few married women in one town taking the time to show him how to do laundry, giggling at him all the while, a group of young woodcutters in the next the best way to forage and cook food when one was hungry, a merchant and his wife teaching him how to bargain to avoid getting cheated…in time, through the generosity and enthusiasm of others, he learned all the skills he needed.

He refused payment for night-hunts – amazingly, his sect did not cut him off as he’d almost expected them to, and he was still able to collect his usual allowance – but accepted it for his music, and from his place behind his guqin he watched, quiet and content, as life swirled around him in all its myriad forms.

In between music and night-hunts, he idly taught some skills to the children in the towns he passed through – the vast majority were common people, completely lacking in cultivation skills, but his sect’s rules and the philosophy behind them were applicable in far more situations than that, and basic martial skills in even more. Whenever he stayed somewhere for more than a few days, he added in lessons in basic literacy, mostly because the idea of not having books at hand was abhorrent to him; the parents involved were generally more grateful that he was keeping their children out of trouble than especially interested in what he was teaching them, but it’d never hurt anyone to know a little bit of reading.

When he happened upon a place already governed by another sect, he did not take particular care either to avoid or to approach them; if they happened to meet, and to invite him to stay with them, he would. Lao Nie tracked him down six times for that very purpose, citing increasingly less plausible excuses, before Lan Qiren finally agreed to make the Unclean Realm a regular stop on his travels just to make him stop; in contrast, Cangse Sanren just showed up at the camp he had made for himself one day, her husband as always by her side, and simply refused to leave for the next three months.

He did not visit the Cloud Recesses.

Not when he heard about how his brother had, however reluctantly, come out from seclusion and begun to do the work of sect leader, and do it well, the Lan sect prospering under his leadership as they had always expected to. Not when he got news that his nephew was born; not when he heard that one nephew had become two. Not even when he heard that his brother’s wife had died, though the thought of that miserable woman’s self-inflicted fate had moved him enough to write a letter of condolence to his brother – their first contact in seven years.

Lan Qiren did not expect anything to come of that impulse, though perhaps he should have known better: it wasn’t more than a week later that he received a letter in return, the heavy formal parchment used by the Lan sect as familiar to him as the back of his hand, his brother’s equally formal calligraphy very nearly as familiar.

The words on it weren’t familiar at all.

I have made a terrible mistake, his brother wrote. I need your help.

Lan Qiren was perhaps not especially filial to his sect, having abandoned it as readily as he did – but despite everything, he did love his brother.

He went home.

“Lan Huan, courtesy name Xichen,” his brother said, nodding at the small child, pudgy and fat and adorable, quivering like a pudding even as he tried to force a smile onto his face, clutching onto a baby only a few months old, the little one strangely solemn despite the inexpert manhandling. “Lan Zhan, courtesy name Wangji.”

Lan Qiren was not as shy as he used to be, and he had gotten better at dealing with children. He knelt down until he was level with them, though he did not force himself to adopt any expression that did not come naturally. “Hello,” he said. “I’m your uncle.”

“Hello, uncle,” Lan Xichen said.

Lan Qiren held out a hand and waited, even as his brother took his leave, busier than ever. It took a little while, but Lan Xichen eventually put his own hand in his, and walked with him; after a little while, he even entrusted him with little Lan Wangji, fussing until Lan Qiren had tucked him into the corner of his arm in a manner he found appropriate.

By the time his brother found them again, Lan Xichen was chattering on and on about his xiao lessons, while Lan Qiren nodded along and added his own observations – he was decently skilled at the xiao himself; while it was not his preferred instrument, there were times when it was easier to carry than a guqin, and he had had time, when he was younger, to indulge himself in learning more than one instrument.

When Lan Xichen saw his father, he fell silent at once. He did not hide behind Lan Qiren’s robes, though Lan Qiren half-thought he wanted to – his little hand trembled in Lan Qiren’s palm.

“Would you like to take your brother back?” Lan Qiren asked him. Lan Wangji was a good baby, crying only a few times, each time responding well and easily to the usual things a child his age wanted – milk, a burp, attention. Moreover, Lan Xichen was good with him, thoughtful and careful; Lan Qiren had no concerns entrusting the baby to him, and Lan Xichen brightened a little when he realized that, nodding happily and taking Lan Wangji, pausing only a moment to glance worriedly at his father before scurrying off.

Lan Qiren looked at his brother.

“He’s afraid of me,” his brother said. “You can tell, can’t you?”

A blind man could tell. Lan Qiren said nothing.

“Wangji cries whenever I hold him, too, even though he almost never cries the rest of the time. He’s not even a year old, and he already knows.”

“Knows?”

His brother looked out into the horizon. His hands were behind his back, clasped in a formal pose. “That I’ll ruin them, too.”

Lan Qiren put his own hands behind his back as well. After a few moments, he said, “You care for them both. That’s not nothing.”

Their own father hadn’t managed even that. He had treated Lan Qiren with utter indifference, while treasuring his eldest beyond the point of reason, encouraging him to always think only of himself; the seeds of their estrangement were planted long before either of them knew it, each of them learning different lessons from their father’s mismanagement – Lan Qiren how to be inferior and doubt himself, his brother to be self-absorbed and careless with the feelings of others; Lan Qiren to bend himself to the point of breaking, his brother to refuse to bend at all.

It had served neither of them well.

“I don’t know what love is, except possession,” his brother said. “Xichen torments himself to try to live up to my expectations, and all I’ve managed to teach him, other than fear, is how to say yes to everything just to make people go away. I find myself falling into the habit of thinking of him as an extension of myself, which is still more than I can do with Wangji, who doesn’t even cry like a regular child should…” He paused. “You didn’t cry much as a child either.”

Lan Qiren glanced at his brother, surprised. He hadn’t known his brother had paid enough attention to him back then to even notice.

His brother smiled thinly. “Our family is known for its quiet children, did you know? I hadn’t, but they told me after Wangji was born. Apparently, there’s a few in every generation: a little slow, a little strange, with minds that don’t work quite the same way as the rest of us. The ones that don’t like to look you in the eye – sometimes they learn to speak, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they’re brilliant. As babies, they’re generally a little too quiet. There were three in our father’s generation, but in ours there was only you. And now, there’s Wangji…”

He shook his head.

“I wronged you before, Qiren. I don’t want to do it again – I don’t want to know what sort of father I’d be to a child like you. I’m not willing to risk waiting to find out, either.”

When Lan Qiren left the Cloud Recesses, he took with him a qiankun pouch weighed down with more money than he’d ever had in his life, two children, one smiling happily as the other burbled quietly, and his brother’s trust.

He had no idea what to do with any of it.

#mdzs #lan qiren #my fic #my fics #not set in the same universe as spilled pearls #but will probably make the most sense if you've read that first #beautifully spent

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360iris · 4 years ago

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do you have any wips? sorry i’m just curious, i’m in love with your writing

Luv, Hold Me Down (Sirius Black x Reader, WIP)

Warning: Mature themes? I don’t know with this one.

Word count: 2,209

A/N: You’re gonna hate my ass because I have zero intention to finish the smut on this one shdhd. Maybe when I’m less busy I’ll come back and update it (although not atm). There are typos galore too so I’m sorry in advance!

—————————————-

The infamous Bubblegum Bomb Incident of 1972. Casualties: one.

During Year Two, Sirius had resolved to get revenge on Cissy’s insufferable boyfriend ever since he tripped him in the halls to get a laugh out of his Slytherin lackeys; and what better way to do that than ruining his precious platinum locks.

It was suppose to be a quick and untraceable procedure. He’d get to personally serve Lucius his own brand of justice and the job would be completed without having to suffer detention.

If only you hadn’t been rushing through the halls that day.

Lunch had just ended, and you were haphazardly ducking and dodging through the wave of students, on your way to visit Remus. He’d been sentenced to a strict, three day period of consistent bed-rest in the infirmary after a particularly bad transformation.

You’d just wanted to bring him a slice of his favorite Hogwarts style coconut cream pie, but one wrong turn and you were suddenly bombarded with three quick pelts of homemade exploding bubblegum bullets.

Sirius had designed them to be quick and lethal with their distribution of rubbery goo so that the target's hair was sure to be ruined.

The first shot sent the small plate in your hands completely airborne. The next two hit you square in the chest, knocking you fully onto your back.

The aftermath was so extreme that it took the combined effort of Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and eventually, the guiding hand of Madam Pomfrey to free you from the sticky sludge and off of the stone pavement.

By the time they’d got to the infirmary, your entire head of hair had been deemed unsalvageable by sweet Poppy, and the only thing she could figure to do was shave it clean off by hand.

You’d spent the next two days unexpectedly alongside a tired Remus, confined in the sick bay, crying your eyes out hysterically. You’d had no idea who had done this to you or why.

That was until the third day, when Poppy finally allowed visitors in, in hopes of lifting your spirits.

Your guests included:

An empathetic Lily and Mary, both girls bringing you and Remus an abundance of flowers from the greenhouses, with explicit approval from Professor Sprout; alongside the homework you’d missed and plenty of junk foods.

An overzealous Marlene who’d spent the entirety of the three days drafting up and collecting signatures for a petition to permanently ban disruptive joke shop type inventions.

And lastly, an uncharacteristically stonefaced James and solemn Sirius who both quietly observed the crucially placed scarf on your head meant to distract from your current state of baldness.

“Go on then. Tell her, man. It’s only proper.” James said abruptly with folded arms, for the first time ever foregoing his usual impeccable home-taught manners and any form of courteous greetings altogether.

You watched confused as Sirius stood some several feet away, staring directly down at his shoes. After another coarse verbal prod from James, he stepped forward, eyes wide and brows furrowed.

“I- You have to understand, I couldn’t have known, Y/N! It happened so suddenly and before I knew it, it was too late!” He pleaded desperately and you weren’t quite understanding what he meant.

“I don’t follow, Sirius. What are you on about?” You asked, watching as he began wringing his hands.

He looked over to James again, seemingly pleading for aid that wouldn’t come. James looked positively severe, intent on standing by his decision to have the boy do this by himself.

“I- I was the one who blew the gum bullets.” Sirius finally whispered, looking positively terrified of your reaction. “But I didn’t intend on hitting you, I promise! It was for that git Malfoy! Remember when he tripped me in front of all of those sixth years last month? I’d been working on a way to get him back ever since! You’ve got to believe me, Y/N!”

But you’d stopped listening after the initial reveal. Your blood ran cold and it was hard to focus on anything in particular before suddenly all of your senses came rushing back in, and you were furious.

And even though James and Remus had been gauging your response, neither could have been quick enough to match the speed at which you pulled off both of your slippers and hurled them at the older boy’s face.

Successfully managing to clock him so hard, he reflexively reached up to clutch his sore, but still intact nose.

After that day, you had deemed Sirius public enemy number one, he managed to outrank even the silver-spoon fed Slytherins and that antagonizing blight, Peeves.

While there were tonics for quickening hair growth, you cursed Sirius Orion Black, every time you had to awkwardly apply a plethora of random oils to your scalp and walk around campus bald for an entire semester.

When he looked your way, you glared back mercilessly. If he dared to even address you, your responses were far from being deemed PG-13.

He’d spent the first six months wearily but consistently trying to apologize, however the damage had already been done, and it’d destroyed any semblance of friendship he’d crafted with you beforehand.

So after a while, he gave up. If you were going to hate him regardless of his actions, he figured he might as well stand up for himself during the bickering matches that transpired whenever the two of you were less than six feet apart.

Over the years, you’d remained bestfriends with Remus and James, though they could never hang out with the both of you at the same time.

For example, if you were eating breakfast with the two boys in The Great Hall and Sirius arrived late after sleeping in, you’d promptly roll your eyes and slide away to talk with Lily.

——

“That most definitely is not healthy, James.” You grimaced, tilting your head back laughing. The book in your lap, long since abandoned from the moment your bestfriends entered the common room.

“Muggle five second rule, Y/N! You were the one who told me about it to begin with!” He grinned from his spot sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you.

You couldn’t help bursting into a fit of giggles, desperately trying to respond. “Rem- Remus! Please! Inform him that it doesn't apply to dropping a sandwich down an entire flight of stairs!”

“Believe me I tried, but he seemed pretty determined to eat it, hair and all after catching up to it.” Remus replied softly, a fond smile playing on his lips as you began making gagging noises of disgust.

“No! James Fleamont Potter, tell me you didn’t actually eat hair!” You laughed, extending your socked foot to shove him.

“I will suffice by just saying that, there may or may not have been a stray hair or two on it when I picked it up- Oh! Sirius, how was detention?” James trailed off to greet a certain boy and your demeanor immediately soured.

Your textbook on alchemical runes suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the world.

“It was worth it. Mcgonagall must be getting tired of me because she had me choose a book and read for three hours. Don’t let me interrupt the fun though. Looks like you’ve finally coaxed the Ice Queen to defrost for a bit. Shame I wasn’t here to see it.” He remarks, and you didn’t need to be looking at him to know he was wearing that infuriating smirk.

“Don’t worry, Black. I’ll never be able to truly relax knowing you’re still out running amuck. Next time you get written up, I’ll be sure to beg Mcgonagall to keep you chained outside with the rest of the wild animals.” An acute look of disgust etches across your face as you close your book, promptly shoving it into your bag.

“If you’re so desperate to see me in a collar, the person you need to be begging is right in front of you, doll.”

You could not have rolled your eyes harder at his remark. In a huff, you tug the strap of your bag around your frame and stand indignantly.

“You’re actually right for once. James? Keep your mutt on a tighter leash, before I’m forced to be the one that puts him down.” You sneer, flipping your hair over one shoulder and striding up to the girls dormitory before he can get in another word.

Remus sighed, unhappily leaning back against the couch he was currently sprawled across. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Sirius watched as your figure disappeared up the stairs before turning to the boy, a dumb smile playing on his lips.

“She doesn’t hate me nearly as much as she tries to make you believe.” Was all he offered giddily before skillfully changing the subject.

———

Much like the infamous playboy Sirius Black, you were known for how frequently you broke the hearts of anyone you hooked up with. They found that sex with you was a spiritual experience, but were usually crushed when you made it clear you weren’t interested in recurring partners.

When Gryffindor’s Quidditch team won a mid-season match against Ravenclaw, James was relentless in persuading you to come to the after party. And though you weren’t originally keen on the idea, you figured it’d be an ample opportunity to relieve some stress.

The night had gone well. You’d garnered a nice buzz from the punch James made in his dorm and had your eyes fixed on Theodore Nott who’d been snuck in by Marlene.

Sirius, who was working his way onto his third cup of punch, watched you make eyes with the Slytherin boy from across the room.

He sat silently seething as you adjusted in your spot on the couch, crossing your legs while holding that snake’s gaze. In the end, all it took was the simple curl of your index finger for Theodore to hand his drink to an unimpressed Marlene and approach you.

Sirius watched as the two of you exchanged a handful of words before you sultrily dragged the boy away by his collar.

It took a minute for him to register that the styrofoam cup in his grasp was crushed.

After grabbing a napkin, he irritatedly ran a hand through his hair and his breath was ragged.

Why did he care that you were probably seconds from fucking a random guy? He definitely wasn’t one to judge, he’d been with plenty of people over the years.

However, no matter how many times he rolled the idea around in his head, he was getting angrier by the minute.

Remus approached him to spark up a conversation, but he was already slipping past him, towards the direction he watched you disappear to earlier.

He found you in the hallway, lip-locked with Theodore who had a grip on one of your exposed thighs. Meanwhile your hands were tangled in his hair.

Sirius’ body switched into autopilot, moving at such a speed that his brain couldn’t even keep pace.

He had harshly pulled the boy off of you, slung you onto his shoulder and made his way to his dorm. Partygoers standing confused as you beat his back, yelling at him to let you go. Once he’s on the stairs away from prying eyes, he delivers a sharp slap to the exposed skin on your thigh.

“Stop screaming bloody murder, Y/L/N.” is all he says and you bite your lip at the sting.

By the time he locked his door and tossed you onto his bed you’re looking at him like he’s insane. Scurrying to get off the mattress but he quickly grabs you ankle, pulling you back to where he dropped you.

“What the fuck has gotten into you!?” You hiss, watching him run a hand through his locks.

“I’m tired of waiting for you to stop being a brat and realize you like me. Tired of watching you hop on random dicks that aren’t mine. You want to get laid tonight? Fine, fuck me then.” He growls and you’re instantly overwhelmed.

“Did a screw come loose in your head? I don’t know what the hell you’re on but I’m not fucking you all people!” You respond by grasping a pillow from his bed and chucking it at his head. He easily catches it with a roll of his eyes.

“I’ve loved you since our first year, Y/N. And I’ve observed you long enough to know if you genuinely hated me or not.” He confesses and you freeze. His eyes were crystal clear and you’re at a loss of words so he continues.

He gently grasps one of your hands, bringing it up over his heart. You can very faintly feel his heart racing and your brows furrow. He was actually being genuine.

“You want fuck me so bad you’ve officially gone stupid?” You ask but he sees the tiniest smirk on your lips. And for whatever reason, you actually let him move in to kiss you.

He jumps a bit when you bite his bottom lip and you giggle before he’s pressing you back onto the bed.

It’s a fight for dominance, neither of you wanting to be the one that relents.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #Harry Potter Smut #hp #hp wip #hp fanfic #the marauders #marauders era #hp smut

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years ago

Text

The Waiting Game

Warnings: tickling, fluff

Word count: 3200

I'm not as happy with how this one came out as the last two, but if I keep thinking about it I'll never post it so... hope it's alright!

* * *

You knew you shouldn’t tell anyone. You knew there would be consequences. But it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.

You had been taking care of your friend’s pet hamster while they were away for the weekend. For the most part, you’d kept it in your room in its cage to avoid bothering the others with all the noise it made overnight, running on its squeaky wheel at all hours. When everyone else had left the compound for the day, you decided the poor animal could use some real exercise. You had placed the critter in his little hamster ball and brought him to the common area so he could roll around freely.

Except, the little door that closed the ball wasn’t latched all the way. Oops.

Before you knew it, you were crawling around on your hands and knees trying to locate your friend’s pet. You left little snacks out around the room in hopes it would get curious and come out of hiding to munch on something. You were so focused on the task at hand you hadn’t noticed Loki had entered the room, until you heard his voice behind you.

“What in the norns are you doing?” he inquired. You turned to look at him, just as you saw a little fuzzy creature tear across the room and right in front of the dark-haired god. He let out a somewhat undignified yelp as he jumped back. Luckily, the hamster stopped at one of the treats you’d left for him, giving you ample opportunity to scoop him up in your hands. “W-what is that?”

“This is my friend’s hamster!” you explained, giggling at his reaction. “The better question is – what was that noise you made? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of this little thing?”

“Of course not! It merely startled me, is all,” he quickly insisted. You held the hamster out toward him, and Loki took a nearly imperceptible step backward.

“Mmhmm, ok. Not scared. Got it.” Grinning, you moved your hand back and petted the hamster gently on the head. “What would the others think if they knew you a tiny little rodent made you freak out?”

Loki narrowed his eyes at you. “Never speak of this,” he demanded, pointing a finger firmly at you to emphasize. He quickly left the room after that, likely to regain his composure.

But you couldn’t just not tell anyone about this gold nugget of information you’d just learned. So, naturally, you told his brother. And Thor, not one for keeping secrets, told everyone else. Needless to say, there was quite a bit of teasing over the next couple of days. You steered clear of the god, knowing he would not take kindly to your having informed the rest of the team about the little incident.

You couldn’t avoid him forever, though. A couple days later, after having returned the pet to your friend, you were making breakfast for yourself in the kitchen when Loki’s voice echoed from the doorway.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated, his tone ominous. You turned from the stove to meet his eye, smiling sweetly to mask your nervousness at being confronted by the trickster.

“No, of course not! We just haven’t crossed paths,” you fibbed. He rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes – I suppose yesterday in the hallway you just realized you forgot something SO important you had to literally sprint in the opposite direction as you saw me approach?”

“Oh… alright, fine. Yes, I’ve been avoiding you. Wouldn’t you do the same?” Loki stepped into the kitchen, taking a few gradual steps toward you.

“You must know there are consequences when you cross me,” he warned. “You humiliated me, and so I think it only fair I do the same to you.”

“Well good luck with that, I’m an open book. There’s no secrets you can use against me,” you quipped.

“You see, I thought that may be the case, so I started querying the other Avengers,” he explained, now standing only a few feet away from you. Instinctively, you put down your half-cooked breakfast and took a step away from the advancing Asgardian. “Most of them had fairly useless information – scared of spiders, fairly standard human weakness… sleeps with a stuffed bear, which everyone already seemed to know about…”

“Please. That’s not embarrassing,” you huffed.

“…and then I spoke to the spider child. He provided me with some very interesting information about you.” Loki smirked, causing you to laugh nervously.

“Oh, do tell,” you urged, folding your arms across your chest, and trying to play it off as a laugh of disbelief. Loki had now backed you into the corner of the kitchen, which you hadn’t realized until your back met the cold plaster of the wall.

“He informed me that the only time he’s ever seen you truly flustered and embarrassed was during one of your sparring matches, when he accidentally learned about your little secret.” Realization dawned on you, and you tensed up immediately. “He described how you’d begged him not to tell anyone, and he hadn’t up until this point. Apparently he finds me threatening, so it wasn’t difficult to convince him to start talking.”

“I-I don’t know what he could possibly be talking about,” you muttered.

“I think you do,” Loki argued. He pounced at you, lunging with his hands aimed at your sides, causing you to squeak and curl into yourself. His hands stopped inches away from you, close enough that your skin tingled from sheer proximity to his fingertips. “You’re ticklish. Severely, based on that reaction.”

“Pshh, no I’m not! That’s… that’s ridiculous,” you denied, your lie exposed by your nervous giggles and blushing face.

“Mmhmm, I’m sure.” His hands darted toward your belly, again stopping right before he made contact. You yelped and whipped your arms down across your torso to protect yourself. Loki’s smirk only grew wider.

“Ok, fine. You’re right. Just… get it over with!” you begged.

“Oh no. Where would be the fun in that?” he chuckled, stepping back and allowing you space to move away from the wall. “I’ve got to build some anticipation. Catch you when you least expect it.”

“That’s just mean!” you groaned. Loki laughed again, turning around to leave the kitchen. Just before he left, he called over his shoulder.

“You’d better watch your back.”

* * *

Loki’s little game went on for days.

You were on edge at any given moment. Peeking around corners before entering rooms, listening through doors before opening them, trying to ensure your safety before making a move. You half expected him to jump out of nowhere and attack you with tickles on your way down the hallway, but it never happened. Still, you made your travel between rooms as brief as possible.

You wouldn’t say you were dreading the moment he finally did decide to pounce. In fact, in a way the idea made your heart flutter with excitement. What made you most nervous was the thought of the team figuring out you actually enjoyed being tickled, especially Loki. You were certain that that would be the embarrassing part. That, and the fact that you were already flustered by being around Loki long before he figured out this bit of information about you.

You couldn’t always avoid him. There were times that you had to be in the same room for prolonged periods, like during meetings. Loki always seemed to have things set up before you arrived so that the only seat remaining in the room was next to him. You considered sitting on the floor, once, but Steve gave you a scorning look which made you shrink down into the chair beside Loki, albeit begrudgingly. During these meetings, Loki always made sure to keep you on your toes; leaning towards you abruptly and placing his hand on the back of your chair, making you jump, only to whisper something about the meeting presentation, or some ridiculous observation about his brother.

It wasn’t just during work-related gatherings, either. One night, you joined a few of your teammates in the common room to watch a TV show together. Wanda stood up from the couch beside you to go grab a snack from the kitchen, and out of nowhere Loki swooped in and sat down in the spot she previously occupied.

“Good evening,” he greeted you, smirking as you shuffled further toward the edge of the couch to increase the distance between the two of you.

“Loki,” you grunted stiffly in reply.

“Now, y/n, that’s no way to greet your fellow team member,” he scolded tauntingly, clapping a hand on your shoulder, and causing you to flinch away reflexively. He leaned back against the couch, casually propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of you – a stark contrast from your position, huddled in the corner of the couch hugging your knees to your chest in an effort to make yourself as small as possible. “Pray tell, what are we watching?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you huffed. Maybe this whole situation was making you feel a little bratty toward the Asgardian, but in all honesty he really did deserve it.

Suddenly he lunged toward you, causing you to squeak and jolt away from his fingertips. He never touched you, though, closing his fingers around the TV remote sitting on the couch beside you with a smug grin on his face.

“My, my, aren’t we jittery this evening?” he teased, settling back into his seat as he pointed the remote toward the TV to check the guide and find out the show title you had refused to provide.

“Everything alright over there, antsy-pants?” Tony asked, having witnessed the whole interaction.

“Yup! Just peachy,” you replied quickly, shooting Loki a quick glare.

“Peachy? Uh… alright then…” Tony scrutinized you for a moment before turning his attention back to the TV screen.

Needless to say, you didn’t really remember any of the rest of the show from that evening.

Then, as if these group gatherings weren’t enough, there was also your regularly scheduled training sessions. One morning, when Nat had you practicing throwing punches at the punching bag, you sensed Loki lurking around behind you. You turned your head just enough to catch him in your peripheral vision standing a few feet away, observing you silently.

“Better watch yourself – I might just throw one of these punches in your direction,” you threatened, keeping your eye on him as you continued to practice.

“Such hostility,” he teased. “Surely this much stress can’t be good for a mortal such as yourself.” He quickly advanced toward you, causing you to spin around and throw your hands up in front of you in defense. A deep, throaty laugh escaped his lips at your reaction. “You’ve only proven my point. You must learn not to be so tense.” He grabbed hold of your shoulder and turned you around, kneading both shoulders with his strong hands. Under normal circumstances, you’d have melted under his touch, but you were unwilling to let your guard down even for a moment. You grabbed his wrists and turned back to face him, pointing an accusing finger in his face.

“I’m not just going to let you slip past my defenses that easily,” you warned, stepping backward toward the door to leave while he smirked at you in amusement.

“Oh, don’t worry - I’m certain of that.”

* * *

After a week of this charade, you were really getting anxious. You were starting to flinch at every little sound, every rapid movement anyone made in your direction. Even when it wasn’t Loki you were interacting with, you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The anticipation was literally driving you insane.

You entered the training room that morning ready to release some of your stress in your sparring session. Unfortunately, Steve had started noticing over the last few days that you and Loki were in the middle of some sort of conflict, and so he assigned the two of you as sparring partners, telling you to either fight it out or get over whatever it was. Reluctantly, you stepped out onto the sparring mat and faced your opponent, already starting to feel nervous butterflies in your stomach. Loki shot you his characteristic mischievous smirk, ducking into his fighting stance.

“I’ll do my best to make this a fair fight,” he goaded. You mimicked his stance, narrowing your eyes at him across the mat.

“Just get on with it, Loki,” you ordered. You didn’t wait around for him to make the first move, throwing a quick one-two punch which he dodged easily. He countered with a jab toward your ribs, stopping just before he made contact, but it was enough to make you flinch. You aimed a low-sweeping kick at his ankles but missed again as he hopped over your leg. Frustrated, you threw another sloppy punch toward his shoulder, but he grabbed hold of your wrist and yanked you toward him, spinning you around easily and pinning your arm behind your back, his other hand gripping your waist.

“Do you yield?” he asked, his voice low in your ear. You spun back around and yanked your wrist free in one fluid motion, driving him backward by slamming your forearm into his chest.

“Not just yet,” you grunted, grinning as he stumbled from the unexpected force. Loki quickly regained his balance, wasting no time in lunging at you again. This time, he aimed his hand toward your side, causing you to yelp and twist awkwardly to avoid his touch.

“Did Natasha teach you that move? Your form is getting sloppy.”

“You know exactly what made me move like that,” you muttered, jumping back on the offensive and landing a couple of blows to his shoulder. He retaliated with a jab straight at your stomach, stopping his own momentum early enough that he merely tapped his fist against your belly. You doubled over, wrapping both arms around your torso protectively.

“It seems your fighting skills require quite a bit of work.”

“Damnit, Loki!” you shouted, unable to take it anymore. “If you’re going to do it, just do it!”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean. You’ve been finding every excuse to lean toward me or make a sudden move in my direction to make me think you’re going to do it. I can’t stand it anymore!” You didn’t quite realize how loudly you were shouting at this point, causing heads to turn in your direction without your noticing. “I know this was all part of your grand plan, to drive me insane with anticipation. You win! I give! Just… get it over with already, please!”

In one swift motion, Loki tackled you flat on your back onto the mat, arms pinned over your head. You felt your stomach somersault, partially from the sudden drop to the floor and partially from the wide smirk on Loki’s face as he hovered over you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Loki released both of your wrists and latched both hands to your sides, squeezing rapidly. You burst into uncontrollable laughter at the agonizingly ticklish sensation. Even Loki seemed somewhat taken aback by your reaction. “No wonder you were so concerned; the spider boy certainly wasn’t lying.”

“Damn you Peteheher!!!” you groaned through your laughter. At this point, everyone in the room had stopped what they were doing to see what the sudden commotion was about. You could feel your face burning, knowing everyone’s eyes were on you as Loki tickled you senseless.

You couldn’t bring yourself to fight back very hard, though; after all, you’d been waiting for this to happen for an entire week. You hoped it didn’t seem too obvious. You didn’t dwell on it for long, though, as Loki’s fingers crawled up to your ribs, depriving you of all coherent thought.

“Do you regret spreading humiliating rumors about me yet?” he teased, his smirk widening.

“N-no!”

“Tsk, tsk, wrong answer, darling,” Loki shook his head in mock disappointment, his hands darting back down to your sides so he could dig his thumbs into your hips.

“Lo… Loki… wahahait!” you pleaded, shrieking at the new sensation, and swatting feebly at his hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m not comprehending what you’re trying to tell me.” He was laughing now, clearly enjoying himself as he made you squirm under his torturous fingers. “Come, now, darling; I know you can fight better than that.” You shook your head rapidly, grasping weakly at his wrists. He moved to scribble lightly into your belly, trying to allow you the chance to talk while still keeping you giggling. “Use your words, love.”

“I-I cahahan’t!” you protested.

“You can’t? Or you’ve chosen not to?” Your eyes widened a bit, realizing he’d caught on to you. “Are you enjoying this?”

Blushing furiously, you rolled abruptly to the side to break his hold and scrambled to your feet, gasping for breath. Loki stood as well, staring you down for just a moment before lunging toward you. You turned and began to run, but the god easily caught up to you, grabbing hold of your arm and yanking you backward so he could trap you in what you could only describe as a bear hug.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Um…” Your heart was pounding in your chest from both exertion and embarrassment. “No? That would be… that would be weird.”

“On the contrary; I find it amusing. Dare I say… endearing, even.”

“Really..? Are you sure-” You were cut off by your own hysterical laughter as Loki dug his fingertips into your ribs, tickling you with renewed vigor. With your arms pinned to your sides and your back pressed flush against his chest, there was very little hope of you escaping this time.

“Surely you understand the implications of this newfound knowledge, dear? You’ve provided me with the perfect excuse to torment you whenever I’d like.”

“Stohohop teasing… LOKIHIHI!” you pleaded, your knees going weak as his fingers darted up and down your sides. You’d completely forgotten about everyone else in the room at this point, your mind going fuzzy. The only thing keeping you standing upright at this point was Loki holding your weight up as he tortured you.

By the time he released you from his hold, your stomach hurt from laughing so hard, and tears of mirth blurred your vision. It had been quite some time since anyone had tickled you like that. Heat still prickled in your cheeks, but you felt happy, nonetheless.

“Damn. Now I know how to cheer you up when you’re moping around the tower,” Tony quipped, walking past you and patting your shoulder as everyone finally returned to their own training exercises.

“Shut up, Tony,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. A swift poke in the sides made you jerk both arms down away from your face.

“I do believe we’re even,” Loki stated, smirking.

“Fine. We’re even. Now – can we finish our sparring match? Without cheating this time?” You shoved his shoulder playfully to emphasize your point. He only grinned wider.

“Darling, I refuse to make promises that I don’t intend to keep.”

#loki tickle #ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #marvel tickle #tickle fic

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slasherrabbitmadness · 3 years ago

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Bo Sinclair x Female Reader

Sinclair College AU Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Woo, NONCON ELEMENTS! This was written by demand. Seriously, bug me to write the AUs if you want to read them lol

Underthecut - NSFW, NONCON do not read if you do not like noncon, Dark fic, Vaginal sex, brief mention of anal, Bruises, creampie and Brief mentions of pregnancy

You shivered as Bo brought the blankets over you, cooing at how tired you must be, how you'll need all the rest you can get.

The dull ache throbbed throughout your body. Your toes hurt from curling them repeatedly, your hips hurt, from Bo's near incessant pounding and nails digging into your hips. Your breasts were sore, nipples teased and played with so long, his stubble scratched along your valley. Your neck was bruised, a feint handprint along the front mixed in with hickeys. Your lips sore and dry, lip gloss smeared around your mouth.

Dried tears over your cheeks, into your hair, onto the pillow.

"Hey, c'mon Sweets." Bo leaned in to kiss your cheek, making you squeeze your stomach in response, "Hey, you're good." He sat next to you, lightly patting your cheek, "Y'did so good for me, hm? So perfect." He leaned in, lips inches from your cheek, "Just like you've always been."

Bo looked down at you, bit his lower lip as your eyes remained vacant, body reacting out of an impulse to his touch, but emotionally wrought.

"You can rest for a lil while but then we gotta clean ya up, Sweets."

You cringed at the nickname, what was once a cute endearing term made your stomach turn.

"Rest for a bit, then we shower." Bo leaned in to kiss your temple, kissed your cheek ad a chaste kiss over your sore lips.

You curled into yourself, letting the motel blanket, stale smell, and lull you into a weak state of slumber.

Bo walked over to the chair, grabbing his crotch as he sat down, letting his chub rest against his thigh. He tapped his foot on the cheap carpeted floor. He leaned back to rummage through his stuff on the table, grabbing a joint and lighting it up.

He took a hit, leaned back. He listened, listened as the cars outside drove by, tires hissing along the wet pavement. A random dog barking, its deep thundering barks upsetting another tenant enough he heard a woman shouting for the thing to shut up.

The rain hit along the window, repeated taps along it felt commoning to Bo. The dull noise helped with his racing thoughts.

Bo wanted to curl into you, wrap his arms around you, kiss along your shoulder, laugh as you playfully reprimand him "Bo, stop! Your stubble is tickling me!" He smiled, "Bo, least you could do is just kiss me."

He coughed, smoke sputtered out through his lips. A deep hum rumbled from his chest, the image of you and him on the bed, curled into each other came so easily. Just like that one Valentine's day...

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bo held you in his arms, hand running up and down your back. He kissed your lips, groaning as you let him slip your tongue in.

He cupped your cheek, tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your moans spurred him on, his thigh pushed in between your legs, spreading you out for him.

"Bo...again?" You asked in a whisper.

"You know you got another round in ya." He kissed you again as he angled his cock at your entrance, grunted as his cock head was met with your warmth. "Ah, sure feels like you're ready." He pushed in, his hands grabbing your wrists to pin them above your head.

Deep intimate strokes have you cantering into him, "Bo..."

"Daddy, c'mon you know how we do this."

"Daddy, please, I want more."

Bo pulled out all the way and bucked forward, a quiet laugh as you squirmed under him.

He picked up speed, huffing and moaning above you. Placed sloppy kisses along your neck, sucking and biting, groaning at the fresh bruises forming along the skin.

"Daddy, ah, more." You freed your wrists from his grasp and ran your hands down his back, resting your hands on his ass. You pushed him further into you, "Daddy please, deeper in me."

His cock twitched in response, "You like when Daddy fucks you? You just need me fuckin' you always."

He kissed you as you moaned in response, hands traveled to the back of his hair, fingers threading through his brown hair.

Bo's hips grew sloppy, your pussy clenched around him as he pushed in deeper and deeper. He wanted to scream out his release, get another call from the front desk. Telling him that there have been noise complaints coming from his room.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in, his movements became shallow, you felt his cock throb within you.

Bo moaned into the kiss, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into you. He grinned as you sobbed under him, mewling out praises, whimpering how full he was making you feel.

"Daddy, you keep coming in me, and it might just take." He wheezed, running a hand over his forehead to brush away the sweat.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" His smile fell as you gave him a mortified look.

Reality hit him, "Bo, I can't get pregnant. I'm only in my second year of University! I need my degree first. How in the hell can I have a baby? I can't afford it, I can barely afford my classes."

He groaned at your rambling, he knew you were right, knew that realistically you could never afford a baby, that a degree gave you and your children together with a better shot.

He hummed in agreement, pulled you back into him, "Shh, we'll figure it out later." He kissed your forehead, growled as you nipped at his neck.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bo sat up and walked over to you on the bed, "C'mon, we need to shower now."

You remained still, eyes closed, face turning into the pillow.

Bo pulled off the blankets, a hard breath through his nose as he took you in. He lifted you into his arms, pressed kisses to the top of your head, mumbling at how sweaty you smelled and tasted.

He walked into the shitty motel bathroom, a far cry from the last time you ever shared on together on Valentine's day.

The yellow light and avocado green sink, toilet, and tub held a nasty hue.

Bo looked at himself in the mirror as he held you, his eyes held a light pink hue (the weed), bags under his eyes, his hair sticking to his forehead. He grinned taking in the bruises along his shoulders and chest. A mixture of teeth marks and fists.

He set you down, an arm around your waist to steady you.

"Okay, Sweets, gonna get you clean. How many days has it been?"

You swayed in your spot, eyes downcast.

"About five days, best to get you clean." He leaned in to place a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

He turned on the water, the steam rising up to the ceiling. "Let's step in."

The water felt euphoric on your skin, washing away the last five days of bodily fluids. Bo's dried saliva, the dried semen on your front, the bits you couldn't fully wipe off your face. The hot water kissed your bruises, a pleasant ache from the hot touch.

You stared at the yellow shower tile, steadying a breath as Bo rubbed his hands over your body. You let your mind race, let it fall into a day more pleasant thoughts.

You thought of Vincent, his arms around you, holding you close, outside the library. Tears spilled as you cursed yourself, wishing you blew off Dan to accompany Vincent. Wanted to sleep in Vincent's arms like you had been almost every night since you started dating.

"Sweets?" Bo patted your cheek, "You good?"

You snapped your attention to Bo, his thumb whipping away your tears, "Might be in the shower but your red eyes are giving you away." He kissed you, tongue running along your lips.

Bo retched back, hand raised up to his cheek, he looked at his fingers, the blood trailing down.

You held a feral look, your eyes hed a feral glare, your nails with blood being cleaned by the running hot water.

"I. Want. Vincent!" You punctuated each word. Teeth bared to the tall man in front of you. You looked through him, not taking in his baby blues, his confused expression.

Bo gave you a booming laugh, you jumped as he grabbed your wrist, "Five days of this and you still want him. I thought I could get you cock drunk on me."

Be spun you around as he pushed you against the tile. Your front pressed into the slimy uncleaned surface had you gagging.

You steadied a breath again, letting your mind race to Vincent. Not Bo poking his cock along your entrance.

"Y'know, you should be pregnant by now, I think the other whole is a little lonely." You fought back a scream.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vincent ran through the campus, running up to the Flamingo dorms. He had no time to think about how silly it was that the campus dorms have animal mascots.

Brahms burst through the dorm's door. Pulling on his jacket as he scratched his stubble.

Vincent ran up to him, knowing his girlfriend was a friend of his own, "Hey, Brahms, you seen Y/n? Has your girl seen her?"

"No, Princess hasn't seen her."

Vincent would normally smirk at Brahm's nickname for his girl. It was fitting, Brahms did treat her like a Princess. The gifts, the lavish vacation he took her on, she was even invited to a family wedding.

"She did mention that she has yet to get ahold of her though, apparently Dan is upset that they missed their study dates."

Vincent slapped his leg in frustration.

"I haven't seen her in five days. I've talked with my brother but I haven't seen him either." Vincent breathed in heavily, he staggered back.

Brahms reached for him, steadying his friend, "Bo probably took her."

Vincent's eye went wide.

"I mean, think about it, is it that hard to get to that conclusion. You fuck her, start dating her, flaunt how good you've both been to each other. Bo's always been, Bo. Masking his insecurity with macho bravado, hitting on pretty girls, and when they take the low-hanging fruit it fuels his ego. For a day, at least. And the one girl who managed to escape his low-level bullshit falls into his brother's arms, of course, he's pissed."

Vincent clenched his fist, "You justifying my brother?"

"No," Brahms stood up straight, arms over his chest, "Remember when I punched him for bugging my Princess? He tried to jump me a week later. For me," Brahms gave Vincent a cocky smile, "Was nothing. I can only imagine if he had anger towards a female."

Vincent's blood went cold at Brahms words. "Y'sure?"

"Hm, I am an actor! I observe people constantly, I am not known as the best method actor this school has ever had for nothing!" Brahms puffed up his chest, his cocky smile faded as he watched Vincent's shakes become near tremors.

"Look, Vincent, Have you been to the police, her parents, sibling? or whatever?" Brahms leaned closer to Vincent, a sympathetic hand remained on his shoulder.

"Yeah...her parents said...she sounded a little shaken up but fine. They said it was stress. The police are useless."

Brahms laughed, "When are they useful?" He frowned when Vincent shot him a glare.

"Okay, no joking, though not a joke, Look, I'll get Princess later and us three can go around asking for her, okay. I'll even ask my drama teacher to put pressure on the campus police."

Vincent nodded a weak defeated nod.

His hope had been diminishing day by day. He missed class and called into work. The past five days were spent on you, finding you, wanting you back in his arms. The sick feeling in his gut knew you were being held by him...the other half of him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat on the bed, your clothes back over your, the warmth they offered little comfort.

"Okay, Sweets, we're gonna get going, alright?" He nudged your shoulder.

"I need to get back to class, Bo. I need to finish my degree." You said lifelessly as if on autopilot.

"You will don't worry." He kissed the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. "Sweets you smell so damn good. So clean for her Daddy."

Your throat felt tight, the urge to barf suppressed as you pinched yourself.

"Why did you cheat on me?"

Bo looked down at you, head cocked, "Cheat on you?"

"Yes."

"I never cheated on you."

"Don't fucking lie to me, Bo!"

He stepped back, hand running over his bandaged cheek. He composed himself, leaning over you, "You better watch your tone." He growled.

The past five days had gotten to you, a resentment, and anger bubbled to the surface, "You date me, Cheat on me, on valentine's day. And you expect me to never be angry, never be upset. And you get mad when I cheat on you. fuck you, Bo. I meant nothing to you. You're nothing to me."

You screamed as Bo shoved you down onto the bed, his large hands pressed hard into your arms, he huffed above you, "Nothing to me? Did I not just spend the last five days lovin' you? Being intimate with you? Shared the most wonderful experience two people together could experience together?"

He shook you as you failed to answer, "Hm? That Valentine's day meant everything to you. This meant everything to you." Bo kissed your tears, gritted his teeth and he shook your head under him.

Bo cheated, he knew this. Knew why he cheated. Self-sabotage as always.

How could someone so sweet, caring, friendly, and loving as you fall for him, why would you? Bo was awful, downright awful, his own parents even said so.

"You'll see, Sweets, you'll see our love grow within you."

You sobbed under him, you murmured Vincent's name, repeating it over and over, as if you said it enough he'd burst through the door, saving you from Bo's hell.

#Bo sinclair #Bo Sinclair x reader #Bo sinclair x you #Bo sinclair imagine #Vincent sinclair #brahms heelshire #house of wax 2005 #smut #Lemon #Dark fic

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m42-fr · 4 years ago

Photo

Here’s my Lore Post™ on various types of common currency around Sorneith! Note that this covers only major forms of currency that can be found broadly throughout their territories of origin, or are otherwise culturally relevant in some way. This post does not include forms of currency that may exist between individual clans. If you happen to find that any of this worldbuilding goes well with your lore, feel free to use it so long as you credit me somewhere for the idea!

And, of course, a mandatory disclaimer: the names and lore of these currencies comes from my own head (and a random name generator). Any resemblance to anything from the real world is unintentional.

Vahrani (vah-RAH-nee) are small bronze coins that originate from the Ashfall Waste. Thanks to the Flamecaller’s ceaseless forges, vahrani are the most common and well-established metal-based currency in the world - and, in fact, are the most well-established currency in the world, period. Trade with the neighboring Windswept Plateau, which exports the products of Fire’s industry to every technologically developing region on the continent, has spread Ashfall coinage far and wide.

Most vahrani have been in circulation for decades, their surfaces oxidized completely teal-black. Pristine, metallic vahrani, either newly-minted or freshly polished, are considered a status symbol by some, but certain dragons may refuse to accept them as payment for fear that they have been recently (and illegally) forged. Vahrani jewelry makes use of the holes at their corners, stringing them together into necklaces, earrings, and other forms of decoration. In a pinch, vahrani can even be tiled together to create makeshift armor.

Vahrani come in units of one, five, and ten. These coins bear an identical picture of the Flamecaller on one side and have a number inscribed on the other, which indicates their worth. The runoff copper from the creation of vahrani bronze is pulled into small lumps and stamped with the sigil of Fire while the metal is still hot, creating small, misshapen coins called vasi - or, in common slang, slag - each worth a tenth of a vahrani. Vasi are not nearly as widespread as vahrani, but they make up the majority of the payroll for poorer dragons within the Ashfall Waste.

Suuram (SOOH-ram) are long, paper-thin copper chits used as currency within the southwestern Shifting Expanse. The very first suuram were copper wires that had been pounded into rough rectangular shapes, but modern suuram are machine-punched from massive metal sheets, ensuring an incredibly consistent size and weight. The asymmetrical pattern of crescent holes at their edges is meant only to distinguish them from simple copper pieces. In practice, the holes are often used to hold chains of coins together with cord or metal clips.

There is only one value of a suuram piece. Rather than create different coins with higher values, dragons exploit the extreme thinness of suuram sheets by packing pieces into small containers; informal higher-value units consist of rectangular boxes holding a carefully-counted number of coins. Carrying around large blocks of copper sheets can become awfully inconvenient, so five-and-ten vahrani pieces have become a popular alternative currency in the Expanse. Suuram are used mostly as pocket change.

Due to the relative geographic isolation of the far coast of the Stormcatcher’s territory, suuram are not particularly popular outside of the Shifting Expanse, and lack traction everywhere past the Charged Barrens. However, suuram are acknowledged as a valid currency in every territory with flourishing trade and worldwide connections, including the Ashfall Waste, Windswept Plateau, Sunbeam Ruins, Tangled Wood, Starfall Isles, and Dragonhome.

The northeastern region of the Shifting Expanse is home to independent scavenger-clans who have little need for formalized currency. Rather than conducting trade with stand-ins like coins, they prefer to directly exchange goods and services, determining the value of each with every new trade. That being said, they do occasionally make use of a form of unregulated, low-value currency, colloquially known as scrap.

Scrap refers to any collection of relatively small, portable, usually worn-down and otherwise useless metal chunks - rusty nails, old gears that don’t fit anywhere, spare nuts and bolts found half-buried in the sand, weathered iron spring-coils and copper wires, and so on. While scrap has no immediate survival value, it serves much the same purpose of currency in that it acts as a metaphorical stand-in for something that is of value, and can be exchanged with others for goods and services. Scrap is considered a valid currency within the northern Expanse, although it is often looked down upon as a ‘primitive’ coin in the more technologically developed regions around Goldensparc and the Lightning Farm.

Paxa (PACKS-uh) are hand-carved wooden chits infused with sparks of magic that keep them pristine even under the worst of abuse. Native to the Sunbeam Ruins, paxa owe their remarkably high value to the painstaking process of crafting them. Each coin is hand-carved to impossible standards of consistency, stained a beautiful deep ebony, and protected from damage with ancient Light artefact-preservation magicks. Their magical ‘fingerprint’ is nearly impossible to fake, which guards them from forgeries. The secret to creating paxa is zealously guarded by a handful of dragons who have dedicated their lives to the craft.

Paxa are a universally recognized coin, spread throughout the world by Light’s investment in research as well as their inherent value. Future-minded dragons convert their retirement savings into paxa, knowing that unlike many other currencies, the tight control on paxa production ensures that their value remains constant. Paxa is also the coin of choice for most illegal operations in Sorneith thanks to their high value and their impossibility to falsify.

The average working-class dragon, even in the Ruins, will struggle to get their talons on any significant amount of paxa. Paxa are used to facilitate expensive transactions, and as such are favored by merchants, the wealthy, and the criminal; throughout most of the Sunbeam Ruins, workers are paid in vahrani, with the occasional handful of suuram thrown in for variety.

The origin of wek-ya, (WEK-yuh) Shadow’s mercurial coinage, is shrouded in mystery. Nobody knows when or where the first wek-ya were made - and, in fact, nobody knows how to make wek-ya at all. Ambitious blacksmiths who try their hand at smelting some are invariably struck with tides of bad luck that force them to close shop. And, moreover, the Tangled Wood can hardly be said to have an established government, so the presence of such a widespread and standardized currency is a curiosity in and of itself.

Wek-ya are crafted of pure silver, or something that resembles it. Each coin has two unique patterns - one to either side - that depict an incredibly broad array of subjects. The most common motifs are crescent moons, mushrooms, thorns, and dancing dragon figures, but there have been wek-ya known to picture oddly specific situations, such as trees being struck by lightning, rats climbing atop bookshelves, and draconic silhouettes that bear a strange resemblance to the viewer in the midst of suffering some catastrophe. Many dragons believe that wek-ya are infused with divination magic; coins are commonly drawn from bags to determine future events, and some individuals claim that their fortunes are told by the wek-ya they receive in trades.

While wek-ya are the most common form of money in the Tangled Wood, they’re incredibly rare elsewhere. Common superstition holds that removing a wek-ya from its homeland will curse the coin’s bearer until it has been returned. There appears to be some vague truth to the statement, as the coins are known to have a way of mysteriously disappearing when they’ve spent too much time away from the Shadowbinder’s influence.

Wek-ya are capable of emitting a dim glow for several hours after being exposed to moonlight. Conversely, they’ve also been known to spontaneously melt when placed in sunlight, permanently disfiguring their faces - such coins are considered overwhelmingly taboo by most residents of the Wood and are traditionally thrown into bogs, rivers, and liquid-shadow ponds, such that they may be forever forgotten.

Dazal (day-ZAHL) are large, chunky coins cut from smoky quartz. They come from Dragonhome, make for an uncommon sight in the northern Starfall Isles and Tangled Wood, and are rare elsewhere. No one institution governs the production of dazal, but most dragons don’t go out of their way to fake them - the coins are used predominantly within the handful of high-population regions of Dragonhome, particularly Terraclae and the Colonnades of Antiquity. Thanks to Light’s vested interest in archaeology, paxa are the most common currency in Dragonhome’s urbanized regions, followed by the eponymous vahrani.

Unlike suuram, which are largely shunned by Lightning’s more independent desert-dwelling clans, the value of dazal is respected by clans among even the most rural and harsh environments of Dragonhome. Most groups will carry at least a handful of them to use in trades - a few dazal will buy a weary traveler water and other goods. The nomadic routes of the Snappers often bring them to urban areas every now and again, which makes holding onto the currency useful, if occasionally burdensome.

The distribution of colors and patterns in a dazal is unique to every coin. Dazal have no varied values in a legal sense, but many individuals within Dragonhome will accept morion dazal - that is, those made of smoky quartz so uniformly dark as to be nearly black - as being worth twice as much as a singular dazal (or equivalent to one wek-ya). Some seek out dazal with unusual color schemes for collection purposes. Another commonly-sought variant is a coin without any scuffs; though crystalline, most older dazal are ridden with chips and cracks.

The Sea of a Thousand Currents has no legally recognized currency. The stinging seawater makes metal-based money impractical, and even the magical toughness of paxa and arcslivers will wear under the waves. Among the more isolated, aquatic clans, though, an informal coin known as vanes (VAIN) are used in some transactions. Vanes are seashells that have been chipped and polished into glistening, guitar-pick shaped chits.

The production, distribution, and value of vanes is entirely unregulated. Any dragon with strong hands and sandpaper can collect seashells and file them to the right shape and smoothness. As such, individual vanes vary widely in color, texture, and shape. The value of a vane is equally variable - no bank in the world accepts vanes as legal tender, although they are acknowledged as being incredibly low-value, presuming they have any worth at all.

Bags of vanes are often exchanged by coastal and reef-dwelling clans as stand-ins for the payment of debt. If an individual needs a good or service, but cannot pay for it at the time, they can hand over some vanes that serve as a sort of credit, later giving something of real value in return for their lent vanes.

Among the roughshod sailors of the Sea, bilgespray is a tawdry term used to refer to any collective mix of multiple types of currency. The wide variety of territories that they visit throughout their trading routes means that they inevitably collect a number of different types of coin. The term, ‘bilgespray,’ usually refers to a singular payout given in more than one type of currency, but used more broadly may account for any messy assortment of multiple types of money.

Popular within the urban areas of the central Starfall Isles, arcslivers (ARK-slih-vur) are tokens cut from the same magically-refined arcglass that makes up the shell of the Astrolodome. Their edges are inscribed with faintly-glowing runes that, like paxa, protect them from damage, although their enchantments are comparatively weaker. The appearance and value of an arcsliver is standardized; their production is controlled by banks within the Astrolodome and neighboring communities.

Well-wrought trading routes have established arcslivers as a valid currency throughout the entirety of the Isles. However, they have very little steading outside of Arcane’s territory. Similar to suuram, geographic isolation has kneecapped their spread, with traveling arcslivers found mostly in the neighboring regions of Dragonhome and the Windswept Plateau; a handful make their way to the Sea of a Thousand Currents and beyond from there. Though rare, they are legally acknowledged in institutions around Sorneith.

Given the extremely well-connected, trade-focused culture of the Windswept Plateau, every currency - even strange or worthless ones, like wek-ya and vanes - can be found in abundance among Windsinger’s children. Vahrani from the neighboring Ashfall Waste are the most common coin, followed by paxa and arcslivers. Wind does not have a traditional currency in the way that other territories do. Rather than use a standardized object to represent physical value, Wind’s unusual currency holds strictly social value. These objects are called kuo (KOO-oh). They are long, ribbonlike textiles, made from hundreds of tiny interwoven beads, and are as much art as they are money.

The length of an individual kuo can vary considerably. Most are long enough to be used as sashes and belts, or be hung up as colorful banners. The harvesting, sculpting, weaving, and painting of their miniscule beads takes a painstaking amount of time and skill. As a monetary system, they indicate debts, allegiances, and other forms of social ‘money,’ whether paid or owed. The perceived value of a kuo is usually based on its size and craftsmanship - the longer and prettier, the better.

While more rural and traditional clans will use kuo for their original purpose, younger generations - particularly those living in more urbanized areas - forgo the social value of kuo and create them for artistic purposes. The creation of an individual kuo ribbon is considered a long and meditative pastime. The patterns in every ribbon are unique, and the abundance of beads and paints mean that elaborate images can be threaded along the strings; given the extensive length of most kuo, many are used to depict the events of stories, be they mythical or factual. The longest kuo is rumored to be a ribbon that stretches the distance of the Cloudsong and depicts an embellished version of the Windswept Plateau’s entire history.

In recent times, dragons have begun to weave kuo as gifts and decorations. Many young lovers and best friends will create kuo for one another, its pictures personalized to the other’s interests and personality, and wear the bands that they themselves were given (usually as scarves, sashes, or bracelets) in an open declaration of their bond. Kuo are becoming an increasingly popular export of the Windswept Plateau. Eager to share their culture with the world, Wind dragons often sell and gift kuo to travelers, and some have even begun to export them to other territories.

The rough, lonesome barrens of the Southern Icefield makes the establishment of currency incredibly difficult. Like other harsh environments in Sorneith - the Shifting Expanse, Dragonhome, the Scarred Wasteland, and so on - coins are not particularly useful for immediate survival, and so trades are preferentially conducted with goods and services rather than coins. Northernmost or otherwise trade-savvy clans may occasionally cut deals with foreigners using vahrani, arcslivers, and even suuram.

The ancient institutions of the Gaolers, for all their fervence with law and order, never had reason to establish an expansive currency amongst themselves. The basic needs of all individuals are cared for free of charge; anything fancier is either owned communally, acquired by advancing in rank, or traded for without monetary stand-ins. Among a few circles, though - and particularly popular in teaching discipline to younger recruits - is a token system using units called snowcoins.

Snowcoins are very simple constructions. At their core is a singular link of a metal chain, which is encapsulated in magically-unmelting ice. The surface of a snowcoin is smooth and convex, forming an oblong shape not unlike a river stone, and they are remarkably translucent. Snowcoins, then, are a small reward earned through various services and good behavior, and can be traded in for small personal luxuries. The things snowcoins can buy consist mostly of curios and other decorative trinkets.

Given that snowcoins are used only by the Gaolers, their existence is almost completely unheard of throughout Sorneith, even in the neighboring Snowsquall Tundra. Only a tiny handful have ever made it out of the Icefield - and even then, most of those found away from the Icewarden are replicas, not genuine. Those who are in possession of snowcoins usually regard them as oddities and collectibles. They hold some mildly curious historic value, but little else.

For all their hatred for one another, the territories of the Scarred Wasteland and Viridian Labyrinth share a similar trait: neither has much in the way of currency. The Labyrinth prizes self-sufficiency and its clans want for little. Their isolationist nature has created a strict limitation on the influx of foreign currency - not even vahrani have made it past their coastal regions. Those from Nature who detest outside influence often use the derogatory term rootmuck to refer to any form of outside currency.

While Plague has a similar lack of established money, they don’t hold the same wariness of foreigners that the Gladekeeper’s children do. Most Plague clans see no reason in shunning something that may help them acquire useful things in the future. Various currencies are common at their respective borders - dazal in the north, wek-ya in the east, vahrani to the south, and arcslivers to the west.

That being said, their central clans, much like those of the northwestern Shifting Expanse, trade mostly survival supplies with one another. Guttergunk is an informal term from the Wasteland that applies to any assortment of individually worthless items that are bundled together to have some collective value. Guttergunk is not anything that could keep you alive; it’s made of things like small trophies - teeth, scales, horns -, the last of old food preserves, tattered pieces of canvas, balls of string, and so forth. Trade offers of guttergunk are considered trashy, greedy, or desperate; in other words, a sign of either arrogance or weakness, perhaps both.

Alternatively, the term may apply to anything considered gross and worthless: “Your efforts are guttergunk,” is an example of a common insult. The word has become popular in neighboring territories, particularly by residents of the Driftwood Drag and sailors of the Sea of a Thousand Currents, and among them it has much the same meaning.

#flight rising #my lore #my headcanons #my art #my worldbuilding #long post #the flamecaller #THREE. THOUSAND. WORDS.#this post KILLED me to write #but man did i have fun... the drawings were especially really neat #I'm very fond of how vahrani. paxa. and vanes came out in particular #rip vanes my worthless children but i love you anyways

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intheticklecloset · 4 years ago

Text

Say It, Deku! (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

@ghostlyshylee Yaaaaas! I love writing tickle fights between these two; their rivalry just adds to the fun of it all! This one is in the vein of the "Give Up, Deku!" storyline, but as Bakugou and Deku settled some things recently, it didn't seem right for Kacchan to get off without some giggles of his own! Enjoy! ^^

16. "Make me."

Since that night when they’d happened upon each other in the woods near the dorms, Deku and Bakugou had had three tickle fights.

The first was not even a week later, when Deku had been sent to find Kacchan since he wasn’t replying to his texts. The blonde had been in the gym going to town on a punching bag, and Deku had snuck up behind him, initiating a tickle fight that he ultimately lost.

The second had been during their one-week spring break. Deku had nervously texted his friend and asked if he wanted to spar, which had then turned into the two of them tickling each other nearly to death until the green-haired hero had been pinned and forced to submit.

The third was happening now.

The two of them were hanging out in the common room way after hours on a Friday night with Kirishima, Mina, and Todoroki, all of whom were currently on the couch watching them roll around on the floor, fingers digging and laughter booming. Deku had made the mistake of saying he’d be the number-one hero someday, which of course spurred Bakugou into claiming that no, he’d be number one. They’d gone back and forth for only a moment when the blonde took initiative for a change and kicked things off, going for his death spot first, of course.

As things stood now, however, Deku had the upper hand, pinning Bakugou’s chest with his forearm and drilling into his stomach with his other hand.

“Stuhuhuhuhuhupid nerd!” Bakugou was giggling hysterically, trying to gain some sort of purchase but unable to do much more than flail for the moment. The only reason he was okay with this tickle fight going down in a public area was because they had friends with them to provide cover if need be. “Gihihihihihihive it up! I’ll behehehehehe number ohohohohone, not you!”

“No,” Deku insisted breathlessly, beaming, “I’ll be number one! Admit it, Kacchan!”

“Nehehehehehehehever!”

Deku reached his hand up Bakugou’s shirt to scratch directly at his ribs, making the blonde unleash a long fit of cackling and squirming even as the smaller hero then pressed his lips to the small strip of belly his friend was showing and blowing as hard as he could manage under the circumstances.

Bakugou bucked so hard he actually managed to force Deku to fall back, and with that brief moment, he was suddenly on top again, shoving his hands under Deku’s arms. “You’ll be the one admitting defeat, you nerd. Not me!”

“Nahahahahahahahahaha!” Deku tried desperately to stay upright but failed miserably, winding up on his back once more, laughing loudly as Kacchan dug into his second worst spot. “NO I WOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!!”

“Oh, yes, you will.”

“YOU CAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T MAHAHAHAHAHAKE ME!!”

“Heck yeah, I can make you,” Bakugou growled, lunging for Deku’s socked feet and digging in there, trying to switch things up a little. “I can make you do whatever I want if I tickle you hard enough.”

“Nohohohohohoho you cahahahahahahan’t!” Deku squealed, bursting into hysterical giggles, trying to sit up.

“I can.”

From his place on the couch, Todoroki blushed but found that he couldn’t tear his eyes from the scene. Usually he was either the one doing the tickling or the one being tickled. He’d never considered a situation in which he might be both, switching back and forth rapidly like these two were.

Kirishima watched with a huge grin on his face, secretly hoping Deku would get the better of Bakugou in the end. Not because he wanted the green-haired boy to be the number-one hero over his best friend, but because it would be satisfying to watch someone else tickle the blonde into giving up.

Mina also smiled at the scene, rooting for no one in particular; simply enjoying the pureness of the moment.

Bakugou tickled Deku’s feet until he realized the nerd was finally able to sit up and tickle him back, at which point he whirled around and dug deep into his hips, forcing the smaller boy right back onto the floor, screaming with laughter.

“NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! NOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE AGAIN, PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Say I’ll be the number-one hero,” Bakugou demanded, grinning wickedly. “Say it, Deku!”

“NEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEVER!!”

“Then suffer.”

Deku tossed his head back and screeched with unstoppable hysterics when Bakugou actually dared to lean down and blow a raspberry against his neck in tandem with the harsh tickling on his hips.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!!” Deku begged, kicking and shoving at the blonde as hard as he could while weak with laughter. “NO FAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR!!”

“This is a tickle fight! Anything is fair.”

“OH YEHEHEHEAH?!” Deku grabbed onto Bakugou’s shoulders, hooked a leg around his hip, and used a fraction of One For All’s power to roll them over so their positions were swapped, then went straight for his friend’s death spot while gasping for breath at the same time, still giggling. “Then you tell me that I’ll be the number-one hero!”

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Bakugou roared with laughter, trying to grab onto his rival’s hair, clothes, anything. “CUHUHUHUHUHUHURSE YOU AND THAHAHAHAHAT STUHUHUHUHUHUPID ONE FOR--!!”

Realizing that Bakugou was too lost in his ticklish distress to remember he needed to keep Deku’s power a secret, the smaller boy slapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up, which made Kirishima throw back his head and laugh.

“How’s it feel, Bakugou?!”

Deku grinned down at his friend, whose eyes had gone wide in shock before his struggling intensified. “Now, now, Kacchan. I can’t help it if my quirk is just stronger than yours.”

A chorus of “ooooh!” went up from the couch.

If looks could kill, Bakugou’s glare would have been Deku’s end. He grabbed roughly at the smaller boy’s ribs, forcing his hand to pull away from his mouth. “I’LL KIHIHIHIHIHIHILL YOU FOR THAHAHAHAHAHAT YOU STUPID NEHEHEHEHEHERD!!”

“I’d like to see you try,” Deku shot back, growing more daring as the tickle fight went on. In the next moment he’d shoved Bakugou’s shirt up to his chest, making both Kiri and Mina wolf-whistle teasingly at him in the split second before Deku’s lips pressed into his bottom ribs and— “PFFTTTBBB!!!”

Bakugou arched his back and let out a scream before dissolving into silent laughter, his face turning redder with every second that passed. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP DEHEHEHEHEKU!!” He cried when he’d regained his breath. “DOHOHOHOHON’T DO THA-AAAAAHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Deku raspberried him again, then again, and again, until he finally sat back with a smirk, surprised to see mirthful tears in the blonde’s eyes. For a brief moment he considered letting up, but then decided, no, I’m so close to breaking him and winning this one! I’ve got to keep going!

“What’s the matter, Kacchan?” He teased, raking up and down his ribs roughly before settling back on his sweet spot and knuckling into it. “Surely the number-one hero can take a little tickling, if in fact you are going to be number one!”

“SCREHEHEHEHEHEW YOU, DEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEKU!!” Bakugou laughed so hard the first mirthful tear escaped him. He desperately tried to push the smaller boy away but was too weakened to do anything more than flail around. “YOU KNOHOHOHOHOHOW I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T TAKE IT THEHEHEHEHEHERE!!”

“So give up already,” Deku replied, grinning.

“NO WAHAHAHAHAHAY!!”

“All right. I’ll just keep tickling you, then!”

Bakugou was growing desperate. He was in so much ticklish agony he could barely stand it, laughing so hard his stomach hurt and tears streamed down his cheeks – much to his mortification. He didn’t have the strength to fight back anymore, but he was not going to give the nerd the satisfaction of hearing him admit defeat.

Still, he had to get out of this somehow.

“FIHIHIHIHIHIHINE!! OKAY, OKAHAHAHAHAHAY!! YOU’LL BE NUHUHUHUMBER OHOHOHOHONE!!”

Shocked that he’d actually made Kacchan say it, Deku stopped and stared at him, beaming. “Really?”

The spectators on the couch were also surprised – until Bakugou shoved Deku down face-first onto the floor, sat on his waist, hooked his fingers into his hipbones, and dug like he was mining for gold.

“Nope.”

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! KACCHAN YOU TRIHIHIHIHIHIHIHICKED ME!!”

“Again, just exploiting one of your weaknesses,” Bakugou replied, smirking triumphantly. “You’ve always been too nice during tickle fights. That, and you’re far too trusting for your own good. It’s so easy to put you in your place.”

Deku pounded the ground desperately, too far lost to his laughter to realize the blonde might see it as tapping out. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“I told you you’d be number one, but I didn’t say what for. That was your first mistake, nerd.” Bakugou grinned up at their friends, who were all watching with rapt interest and amusement. “Now, you’re going to tell me I’ll be the number-one hero, or you’ll be stuck like this with me tickling you until the end of time. It’s your choice. Say it, Deku. Say it or suffer.”

Deku was losing his mind laughing so hard, practically out of breath already, but he was not going to give Bakugou the satisfaction of hearing him admit defeat. So – even though everything in his body screamed for him to give up – he remained defiant. “NOHOHOHOHOHOHO, I’LL BEHEHEHE THE NUMBER-OHOHOHOHOHONE HEHEHEHEHEHERO!!”

Bakugou let out a wicked laugh. “Not if I tickle you to death first.”

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dailycharacteroption · 3 years ago

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Construct Caller (Unchained Summoner Archetype)

(art by butterfrog on DeviantArt)

And we’re back again, too soon, to my favorite punching bag: Construct Handbook, with another archetype.

By my own admission I rag on that book as a disappointment a lot, but today’s archetype I don’t actually mind that much, and in my opinion provides an elegant solution to something that felt missing from the game for a long while: A summoner character that conjures a construct-like eidolon to aid them!

Unlike other summoners, construct callers use their rote and rituals to literally build their eidolon, crafting astral quintessence into a perfect orderly form which might resemble any sort of construct, from a golem to a clockwork to something more cultural or regional. However, others might resemble more esoteric concepts, such as a mathematical or geometric equation given roughly humanoid form. Unlike inevitables, however, they are not necessarily lawful.

Some of these summoners might craft their eidolon entirely from scratch, but others might instead use an eidolon consciousness as a “seed” or core around which their body is built. Either way, as we’ll soon see that prove to have impressive control over their eidolon’s form.

As this archetype specifically works with the eidolon subtypes of the unchained version of the summoner class, it is limited to that version, but we’ll soon see exactly what that means.

The summoner’s eidolon functions much like an inevitable, but having no constitution and having size-based vitality. What’s more, their durability against all but the most chaotic attacks is instead bypassed by the hardest materials.

Additionally, due to how thorough their control over their minion’s form is, they prove able to squeeze more unique abilities and evolution out of their eidolon than most.

A simple archetype which provides a different sort of companion creature at the cost of limiting the progression of their ability to summon other creatures, this option is a fun, flavorful way to scratch that “pet automaton” itch, no matter what form it takes. You’ll be a bit less reliant on your other summons, so I suggest a build focused on supporting your eidolon in particular.

While some of these summoners might be brilliant engineers, capable of crafting complex esoteric constructs, the fact that they remain charisma-based casters does suggest that there may be a significant portion that are not so extremely gifted when it comes to engineering expertise, and might instead construct their eidolons because they lack the ability to craft such a being from components more restricted by the laws of physics than quintessence. In such cases, many might struggle with imposter syndrome, particularly if they had construct-crafting or engineering-focused peers. Conversely, however, some may see their creations as just as much art as engineering, not as bothered by the intricacies under the hood. Of course, this is less likely to come up with construct callers that have eidolons that resemble solid-material constructs like most golems.

Researching the strange denizens of Leng is no easy task. One needs a companion that can handle the rigors of that maddening environment, and Kadia envisioned such an ally, a construct eidolon, into being. Even still, she reaches out to the part for help with a particularly nasty target, a leng hound.

Endlessly fascinated by crafting and invention, many catfolk around the Scarred Cape take up a craft to pass the time, and some even learn to summon their ideal creations into existence. Some resemble the ruined automatons seen throughout the region, while others resemble more rustic materials. Jokes about yarn, however, are not appreciated.

Rather than being scorned as “false craftsmen” the construct callers of Vendia are reknowned as innovators, constantly perfecting their eidolons with new designs which true crafters study in order to realize them as true constructs. However, plagerism with the help of evolution surge and devolution spells is common.

#pathfinder #archetype #summoner #unchained summoner #construct caller #leng hound #catfolk #Construct Handbook

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

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ONE KISS W.W.

Request: hi! i was wondering if i could request for wally where he and batsis are fwb (they've caught feelings for each other but haven't confessed yet) and then one of the batboys saw and they want an explanation so reader or wally just blurts out that they've been dating in secret the whole time and after they leave they just confess that they actually have feelings for each other the entire time? hope this make sense thank you!

Warning: mentions of the sex, swearing, the usual business

A/N: Nothing to say tonight boys, I’m just tired. enjoy x

Word Count: 2.5k

It wasn't supposed to end up like this.

Wally wasn't supposed to become a common occurrence and he certainly wasn't supposed to find himself in your bed every other morning. It was a stupid mistake the first time, one that repeated itself again and again until it became your normal. He was good in bed, you could give him that.

It started after a bad mission. Pent up frustration, trying to take it out on everything and everyone. You just happened to be in the same vicinity to use each other as a punching bag. Hurtful words and blame was thrown, but ultimately, it was Wally's kiss that released the most emotion.

Wally's kiss that led to shed clothes and hungry touches. Wally's kiss that led you to his bedroom where hours upon hours were spent trying to fuck out every feeling you had. Wally's kiss that led to many more nights just like that one. He had changed everything with that one kiss.

You kept this new relationship secret. No one on the team knew - not even your closest friends, not even your brothers. Your brothers - as much as they liked Wally - would kill him for using you the way he did. That truly was what you had with him, use of each others bodies and nothing else.

Chasing highs and running from lows. It was easier to keep with using each other than admit to yourself that maybe you wanted more than this. Maybe you wanted to be Wally for everything.

Friends with benefits were never supposed to catch feelings, yet you should have known that this was what would happen. It never remained just friends, and with Wally especially? It was impossible not to look at him as if he was the only person in the world that mattered. Truth is, he was.

Wally lied on his back, arms tucked behind his bed. His bare chest was exposed to the cold air but a layer of sweat still clung to him. A smile rested on his face at the memory of only a few moments ago. Hair a mess, clothes scattered in every corner of your room.

"What's that look for?" You teased. Wally's gaze tore towards you as you walked out of the bathroom. One of his shirts that had been left there hung off your body. So effortlessly, you looked so beautiful. He out stretched his arms as you walked past, grabbing your ass to keep you from going any farther.

In one motion, he pulled you back onto his lap, connecting your lips for yet another time that night. He gripped your hips, just over the bruises that he had left on you earlier. He was eager against your lips, craving even more than you had already given. Not that you minded, time with him was time well spent.

Wally didn't hesitate to flip you. His arms rested on either side of you, hips pressing against your in the most delicious way. Lips molding to yours, mastered after all these months together. Wally knew your body better that you knew it yourself. He made sure to know everything that made you squeal.

"Again?" the tease in your voice was still evident as Wally drove his hand up your shirt - his shirt. His touch was rough against you, different than how he ever was when you were around others. he couldn't even bring himself to speak, only nodding against your lips. The utter need he had for you was too overpowering.

His week had been terrible. One bad thing after another and the moment that he got some free time he was in your bed. Wally so feverishly fucked you into your bed, washing away the frustration that he had gained through the week and melting at the sounds of your screams for him.

Your hands trailed down his chest, farther and farther until reaching where he so desperately needed you. Wally had still been bare from your previous round - but just as ready as he was the first time. he pushed himself deeper to your touch, needing more than feather light grazes.

"Hey, (Y/N) did you ever find that - Oh my god!"

Dick often times showed up to your apartment. Often enough that he had gotten a key, learning that knocking was not necessary, and that you were always there by yourself. It was always nice when he stopped by - whatever the reason for. You were always thankful that at least one of your brothers liked to stop and see how you were doing.

He never expected to come into your room to see his best friend naked and on top of you. Wally couldn't tell who looked more horrified, you or your brother. The blanket on your bed was pulled up to cover both of you while Dick still tried to process what was going on. You and Wally? There was no way.

"What the fuck is going on?" Dick suddenly got angry. His fists clenched at his side and he gave the deadliest look to Wally. He always wanted what was best for you - someone who loved you endlessly, not someone who wanted to use you just for your body. Now, you had gone behind is back to do the exact opposite of his hopes with none other than Wally.

You couldn't bring yourself to even explain yourself. Your face flared with warmth from the embarrassment you felt. Wally, you were sure was the exact same, but you couldn't dare to look at him. A string of words that didn't make any sense fumbled past your lips, seemingly only making your brother even more frustrated.

The more he thought about it the more he realized that this wasn't just a one time thing. This had been going on for a long time. Not so hidden marks covering your skin, glances at each other that didn't seem to mean anything at the time, touches that were more than friendly. Dick hadn't noticed any of the signs.

"Dick, I-"

"You've been using my sister!" He yelled. Dick had been protective of you your whole life. He was always the one to stand up for you when you couldn't and be there to keep you safe. It was part of being a big brother - something that he got to learn with you and he loved it. He was meant to be a big brother, to be protective. "You fucking -"

"Dick!" You shouted at him. He ignored you, trying to step towards Wally with pure anger in his eyes. In the blink of an eye, Wally had thrown on some jeans and stood on the opposite side of the room. He spun around in his spot and stomped towards the speedster once more. "Dick, stop. You don't understand, Wally-"

"We're dating!" Wally held his arms up in defense. Dick stopped in his tracks, looking between the both of you to see if he was indeed telling the truth. You were quick to cover the shock of his words before Dick looked over to you. His body relaxed, no longer thinking that Wally was using you only for sex.

"For months," you carried on. "It was my idea not to tell anyone." That was true. It was your idea to keep any relationship that you had with Wally on the down low. However dating - that was something that had never come up between the two of you. There were always times that you wanted to, but couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Wally wasn't into you the way you wished him to be. He was the one that started this - whatever the hell this was. It was his idea to keep it as sex only and at first it was so easy to do so. He made you feel good - what else did you need? Late hours of the night together but never seemingly enough time. You wanted more of him, and for the longest time you thought you couldn't have it.

"You're dating..." Dick looked even more confused than ever. It was a relationship that he never expected to see - you were never interested in Wally to his knowledge. Maybe after all these years, he didn't know you as well as he thought he did. "Why... Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

Wally sped over to your side, keeping up with the act that you were truly together. Maybe it wasn't true and maybe one day you would have to tell Dick the truth but for now, it was easier this way. He didn't need to know that you and Wally had been exclusively fucking and nothing past that.

"Because I know you, Rob," Wally looked over at his best friend. He didn't want to loose him - which was the truth. However, hearing the sincerity in his voice, it made you wonder how real his words really were. How deep did he plan to take this little lie with you? You weren't dating, and you didn't have intentions to.

"I-" Dick was truly at a loss of words. He never expected this to happen and he still wasn't sure how he actually felt about it. His closest friend and his sister? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen and he wanted no part of it. "Just... just let me try to wrap my head around this. I can't believe you both went behind my back."

"Sorry, Dickie," You tried to apologize but it was evident there was no sorrow in your tone. Dick ran a hand down his face and left your room, slamming the door with more force than necessary. He was furious at the both of you, however it would have been far worse had he known the truth.

As soon as you heard the click of your other door, Wally collapsed onto your bed trying to figure out what he had just done. "What the hell was what?" You nearly snapped. As grateful as you were for his quick thinking, it might have just made everything worse.

"I have no idea," Wally mumbled through his hands that rested on his face. He took a deep breath before looking up at you. Fear struck him in how you would react to his outburst. "I'm sorry. I panicked and I didn't know what else to say. Look we can tell him the truth - whatever you want."

"What if..." You trailed off. The words were stuck in your throat but now was as good as time as any to finally spit them out. You could feel Wally staring up at you, clinging onto you oncoming words with desperation. It took everything to peel your eyes open and speak. "What if it was true? What if we were dating?"

"You mean," Wally nearly choked at your words. You wanted to date? Him? He never thought that you wanted to. Always assuming that you just used him for pleasure and that was all. How long had you felt this way? As long as he did? "You mean you want us to be real? An actual couple?"

He hadn't meant to use that tone. Wally was more shocked than anything by this and he could tell instantly by your reaction that what he wanted to say hadn't come out properly. Your breathing faltered, tears ready to brim your eyes - what an embarrassment. Of course he didn't want that.

"Sorry, that was stupid, I sh-" Wally never gave you the opportunity to walk away from him - not that you could ever out run him even if you tried. It was a pro and con being friends with a speedster, they could be next to you in a heartbeat. Whether you wanted them to be or not, they were there.

Wally didn't let you get once step towards the door. The moment that you stood up and gave the slightest hint that you wanted out of there, he was blocking your path. He held a desperate look on his face - one that you couldn't read in the slightest. Nonetheless, you couldn't break away from his gaze.

You swore that those next few seconds happened in speedster time. Wally leaned down, pressing his lips against yours so softly that you weren't even sure that it had happened. Just as quick as the feeling was there, it was gone. HIs look turned to worry, as if you were going to chastise his choice.

"Wall..." You didn't notice yourself leaning closer towards him. Pressing your whole body against him like a magnet. Wally kissed you again, this time firmer, filled with confidence. He kissed you like he needed you, just like the first time. It was the truth, he did need you.

Wally's arms wrapped around you as you both tumbled sideways onto your bed. He refused to let go of you or break your kiss. Your touch like fire against his skin and still leaving an icy cold trail. He was filled with every emotion, every touch was beyond anything he had felt before with you.

"It's not stupid," he whispered to you between kisses. You looped your finger into his jeans, pulling him closer and tangling your legs. "Not at all. I want that, with you. I'm tired of doing this - pretending like sleeping with you all the time means nothing to me. It means everything - you mean everything to me."

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes," he rested his forehead against yours. Wally grabbed you hands, placing your palm flat against his heart. You could feel how erratic it was - just the same as when he was running. Now, he wasn't running in any sense. He wasn't running from bad guys, he wasn't running from his problem, and he wasn't running away from his feeling towards you.

"You're not scared of this?" You asked. Dating him was never brought up, but any time he brought up his past relationships it almost seemed like he was scared to get into a new one. Wally pecked your lips once before pulling away to look down at you.

"Me? Scared," Wally grinned at his sarcasm. Your hand on his chest slid up until it cupped his cheek. He leaned into your touch. His eyes were warm as he met yours. No longer lust within them but an adoration that was always hidden within.

"I'm not scared of anything as long as I'm right beside you."

#wally west #wally west imagine #wally west one shot #wally west x batsis #wally west x reader #kid flash #kid flash imagine #dick grayson #nightwing #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #batsis!reader #fluff #wally west fanfic

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writinghood · 4 years ago

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Heartbreaker

Hey! I borrowed a prompt from @sleepyprompts and decided to write this terrible fic.

Mulaney x Reader

Genre: Fluff AF

Summary: You’ve been friends since college, always afraid to own up to the feelings you’ve had for him. After spending two years with who you thought was the man of your dreams, a bad break up leads you to a private vacation with your supportive best friend.

Rating: totally safe for work and shit

I’m done, you’ve convinced yourself. I can’t do this anymore.

A broken heart really is the absolute worst thing. Having both legs severed? No big deal. Cancer? Common. A hang nail? Okay, that’s pretty annoying. But your fiance leaving you after you tried so fucking hard to please him, that’s bottom of the barrel shit.

“You’ll never find anyone else like me,” was his last goodbye. “Good luck, darling.”

And you were manipulated just enough to believe him. John saw the signs of abuse. Wise enough to recognize a red flag, yet disconnected enough not to call it to your attention, he believes, honestly has thoughts that you would never be interested in a guy like him.

“I have an idea,” he says with a playful smirk. “Let’s go to the Poconos this weekend. It’ll give you time to get your thoughts together and I’ll have time to focus on not being a complete idiot.” That last audition was murder. He’s still half dead inside and seeking validation from anyone willing to give it. “We can go skiing, or attempt something less life threatening.”

Your mind drifts back to your college days when he was someone else; someone slightly dangerous and undesirable. John was always cute, tall and lanky with a sweet smile, yet obviously troubled.

“Why not?” you muse, a shoulder slightly rising. It isn’t as if you don’t believe your life is over. Maybe you’ll be lucky enough to crash into sumac and die right away. “You’ll drive?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. He’s a nightmare of a driver, but if you have confidence in him, he can manage that much...hopefully.

“Of course, I will.” The bridge of his nose curls, eyes focused on yours. “Pack your bags and I’ll rent a car.”

Suddenly, you wonder what in the hell is happening. Good thing you’re delusional enough to buy what John is selling. He vanishes beyond the door to your bedroom and you’re picking which outfits would best suit the late eighties film this shit storm is turning out to be.

Heartbroken but comforted by spending time with your old friend, reliable John, you relax next to him in the shitty honda rental. Mind filled with all the reasons you weren’t good enough for the perfect fiance, the Boys II Men song on channel 101.5 isn’t boosting your confidence. He can tell, glancing in your direction once or twice while navigating.

“Almost there,” he begins, voice soft. “We’re going to have a good time.”

You flash a half smile, knowing he’s probably right.

“You look beautiful by the way.” The tips of his fingers punch the radio dial, bringing forward a song much, much worse until he settles on a Latino station, which is neither depressing nor uplifting. “Te ves hermosa,” he adds, looking extremely awkward. Both hands, all fingers tightening on the wheel, he drives on.

The first thing you notice about the cabin is that it’s fucking freezing. Palms gliding up and down your arms, Mulaney reassures you. “We have plenty of firewood. I ordered ahead of time.” He waves an arm toward the corner where a pile of five hundred year old bark rests. Did a caveman own this bitch? you wonder. Is there a saber toothed tiger under those logs?

Resting before the fireplace, your eyes fix on the flames, a tear or two welling in the corners. You’re thinking about him, the ex, when you are certain that you shouldn’t be.

“Hey,” that familiar voice pipes up.

Glancing in his direction, you manage to work up a pleasant smile.

“He was just another guy,” John says softly. “We’ve been through this before.”

Your eyes narrow. We? As if he’s had to endure some sort of pain due to your past choices. “What do you mean?” you ask, concerned with his tone.

“Oh, come on.” Tone playful, he lays a hand on your shoulder, shifting closer. “Ever since freshman year, you’ve been dating these kinds of guys.” Oh god. Is he playing the nice guy card? “Guys who treat you like less than you are.” His expression turns serious. “When you know you’re better than that.”.

Watching his face spin from concern to shame, you see he realizes he may be offending you. Turning away, hands falling into his lap, John stares into the flames. Mouth tight, jaw twitching, he asks, “Are you hungry?” He brought a tightly wrapped tuna fish sandwich if you are. “It’s in the mini-fridge.” It’s too much.

Standing, he looks down at you. Head tilting, your eyes connect with his, heart hammering the way it shouldn’t be. Impulsively, you grab his trembling hand, eyes rounding.

“I didn’t mean...” Swallowing roughly, you stand, gaze staying firm. “...to make you feel judged, John.” You realize there may be a thousand different ways you’d like to phrase this. Settling on the truth, your shoulders relax. “Oh god, John, I’ve been in love with you ever since I was nineteen years old.” He tries to read your terrified expression as you confess. “But I know you’d never...” Want me, remains in your thoughts. And in his eyes, you suddenly know he feels the same.

There you both are. This is real. This is happening. His long fingers locking with yours, reliable John’s mouth is slowly moving toward yours until the connection forces your eyes shut. Loose grasp tightening, palms coming flat together, you’ve found heaven in one innocent kiss.

#sleepyprompts #writings #john mulaney fan fic #fan fic #john mulaney x reader #john mulaney #i'm sorry #there's a burning demon inside saying i should make this smut #i'll most likely delete this garbage

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kusagrasskusa · 4 years ago

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Hanzo Hisashi X Innocent! Reader

Thank you EzraPFoxglove01for requesting this adorable thing! I sorta changed a lot you asked for by making it go into depth, and it ended up being the longest story I've ever written lol. So I'm definitely gonna add a shorter, more cutesy version of this story soon.

Change her outfit all you wish; it doesn't have a big part in the story at all. Though due to where she lives, it sorta makes sense for traditional Japanese wear to be her attire. And this is the kimono I have in mind, but change whatever :D To be honest, it makes sense to change the look to be more suitable for fighting while still maintaining an innocent, feminine character.

Word Count: 6733

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hay....ya!" A feminine voice yelled out as she kicked a large hole into a tree. She didn't really have an specific training area so she often kicked and punched holes into tough looking trees, which proven to be as affective as training dummies and whatnot. She pulled away from the tree with a large smile on her innocent features.

She held her arms up to her chest with clinched fists. "Alright! Just 113 more to go," she reminded herself as she prepared for another kick. Yet just before she kicked the tree, she heard rustling in the bushes surrounding her.

She paused and looked around her everywhere. The wind began to blow which made it hard to hear whoever or whatever move again as the wind blew the all the bushes. She made a pouty face and walked over to where she heard the noise the first time. She had a bag that wrapped around her colorful kimono that contained kunai knives, and she pulled one out just in case. To be honest, with her small, airhead, and pouty form, she was the least intimidating person most people could ever see. And her small, F/C kimono with cherry trees on it added onto it.

The wind slowed down for a second and in that time, rustling in the bushes was heard again, where it did last time. "Huh?" She hummed as she slowly and cautiously opened up the bushes. "W-Who's there!" She yelled nervously as she parted the bushes completely. "Ahhh!" She screamed as she stepped back, tripping on whatever she stepped on. A baby bunny jumped on top of her from the bushes, it's guinea pig looking face staring boldly at her. Fuck it was frightening for a bunny to withhold so much toughness and boldness.

She whined as she pulled the bunny of her, causing it to run away quickly. She stumbled to her feet, barely managing to maintain her own balance for a moment. She watched the bunny hop away into the forest as she calmed her nerves. Once it disappeared, she sighed and opened her bag to put away her knife. Yet the sound of a voice behind her caused her to throw it towards the voice with perfect aim and fast speed. Yet as she turned around, she saw her kunai knife had been frozen but it wasn't frozen quick enough to prevent the one and only Kuai Liang from behind cut a little.

"Good aim," the Sub Zero complimented in his deep and husky voice, a smirk on his face. He pulled the kunai from the ice prison it was it and tossed it towards Y/N. Y/N's innocent E/C eyes widened as she gasped.

"Liang!" She ran towards him to hug him– but no, we can't have that without her tripping halfway. "Oof!" She hit the ground hard and whined as she slowly stood back up. She had cut her face on a rock but that wasn't good enough for her to not want to hug him just as hard. So once she stood up, she lunged at him and hugged him so incredibly hard. "I missed you! How are you!"

Kuai chuckled as he softly wrapped his arms around her. "I see you haven't changed one bit, dear friend." It's true that the two of them are close friends; although they don't have any fundamental qualities in common, they managed to meet one day and their opposite personalities captured each other's interest. And so here they are, together after departed months back. Right after Sub Zero and others were free from Quan Chi, the two got close again and only had a couple weeks to get close again before Kuai had to leave. Finally, months later, they're together again!

"I've been just fine, L/N. How about yourself?" He asked as he pulled his arms down. As expected, Y/N didn't let go and continued to sway back and forth.

"Oh, I've been good! Sorta lonely, yeah but I met this one guy! He leads an entire clan that let me in!" Y/N sweet voice called out in reply, her eyes twinkling. "I don't see him often but we've been talking a lot more recently. He's really nice...like a big, strong, teddy bear, hehe," she giggled as her legs went limp. Kuai chuckled at her dramatic description and pat her head; pushing the person she's talking about to the back of his mind. She got back on her feet again and pulled away from him. "Sooooo...do you have any combat stories to share? An adventure?"

Kuai shook his head. "Unfortunately nothing to tell now, but soon," he spoke as he looked up at the bright blue sky. It was maybe 8 in the morning at the time. Y/N held her arms in front of her as she swayed back and forth as her head tilted in confusion.

"Okay...Oh! There's flowers growing around here and I want you to see it. They're so pretty- and pink," She emphasized as she took Kuai's hand and pulled him to a nearby pond. The trees surrounding the pond were waves with red and pink flowers ground from them. It's hard to tell, but in the distant was a village. And jn that village was, drum roll please, Hanzo Hizashi himself. As the two friends spoke about the scenery, Hanzo had just gotten ready for a day of training.

As he stepped outside, he took a deep breath and examined the place surrounding him. The birds were singing, the soft winds brushing past the trees and plants, the warm sun and clear skies. The sound of children playing can be heard from the background. It was pure bliss really. Yet even so, he had an uneasy feeling wash over him. The feeling that there could possibly be an unwanted visitor.

Hanzo walked closed the door behind him and walked out. He took his time going from his home to a place a little outside of the village; a more personalized dojo. It contained dummies and targets designed for his spear and fire. The little dojo was little ways across a pond near the village so that's where he was headed.

"And that's why that's my favorite color," Y/N said as she finished her story. Kuai Liang, to be honest, wasn't paying attention to her at all and simply nodded. She smiled at his politeness to at least pretend to acknowledge what she's saying; Y/N knows she can get really immature sometimes and right now really isn't her best moment. "Eheh, so what do you want to do?"

Kuai looked over at her with a soft smile on his features. He really was such a peaceful man at heart. "I believe I saw a few rare ducks fly into the pond. Would you like to go see them?"

"You're not going anywhere."

Y/N sharply turned her head towards the pissed looking man walking towards the duo and gasped. She stood up, saying, "Kuai, this is the man that let me into his village! Hey Hanzo, this is Kuai‐"

"He already knows who I am," Kuai cut her off coldly and stood up. "Hanzo, I mean you no harm; had I known this was your territory, I would not have come." Hanzo pulled a sword from his back and held it up in a firey fists once he got close to them. Y/N stared idlely at them with growing anxiety. The two picked up on that quickly, making Kuai speak up again before Hanzo could. "The girl does not know of our rivalry. Don't punish her for my mistake, Hanzo‐"

"Do no speak to me like that. Leave at once!" Hanzo may be alive, but that doesn't mean he can't revert his voice back to his hellish Scorpion one. Kuai took a few steps back before turning around and disappearing. Hanzo and Y/N watched the whole way through in complete silence. Once Kuai was gone, they silence broke.

"I–"

"And you," Hanzo walked up to her and grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. "Exactly what made you think bringing a guest without permission was anywhere near exceptable? You endanger every one of us at this village that way." Y/N could feel his fire-hot breath against her as he spoke. A shiver fell down her spine as looked him right in the eye. She didn't respond, but rather bow her head. Hanzo scoffed, flames igniting from his fist that began to burn her clothes, making her whimper beneath him. She felt the flames heating up her neck, which made her whimper more as the pain wasn't something she was exposed to often. "Part of me wants to kill you right now. You are very lucky to have caught me in a better light."

Hanzo let go of her, stepping away. Y/N bowed her full body lowly, hands to her knees. "I'm deeply sorry sir, I really am. I promise I will never bring another guest again. I knew not of Kuai and your's relationship and if I had known when I met him in the woods a little bit ago, I would have got him to leave. It was foolish of me to have not stayed in the village and possibly risks a bloody situation. For that, I am sorry." As Y/N finished, she heard nothing but the sound of a sword being put away.

"As long as this never happens again, L/N," he spoke coldly. "I forgive you. You may continue what you were doing before he arrived here."

"Thank you so much, sir!" Y/N called out happily as she stood up straight with a smile on her face. "I promise you won't regret it!" Hanzo remained quiet and simply glanced down instead. A more calm and positive feeling took over his previous anger quickly, leaving behind a little bit of confusion. Y/N took a few steps back over to where that tree she was kicking earlier was before Hanzo spoke up again.

"I apologize for being so harsh, as well. You said you met you here; was this planned?" He asked her as he his fists were undone. Y/N shook her head when she turned back towards him. Hanzo examined her face for a moment before sighing, then a smile grew on his face. "Very well. I appreciate your honesty. Actually, would you care to join me for tea later? As leader of this clan, it feels right for me to know all my people, whether they are a weary traveler or blood."

"Of course I would," she said softly. "What time?"

"Tomorrow at dawn."

"So be it." And with that, Hanzo began to walk towards his dojo and Y/N walked towards her special tree. The two of them had that tea on their minds as they practiced whatever it is they were practicing. How would it turn out? Would Y/N innocent immaturity get her in trouble? Would Hanzo appear too serious? Will they make up and gain trust? Maybe something else? We'll see in the next paragraph.

Time flies by quickly when you're having a good time, and for Hanzo, he was quite happy about the thought of getting to know Y/N more. And also to learn more of her relations with Kuai. As for Y/N, she was nervous as all hell since she knows she can be a handful sometimes. To be honest, a simple deep breath was able to calm her down and bring the adult side out of her. So here she was now, looking at herself in the mirror of her guest cabin and taking deep breaths to calm her nerves.

"You got this Y/N," she told herself as she took her final deep breath. The kimono she was wearing was different as it was longer and above the wrists, meaning she was unmarried. It still had a pretty design on it, with the colors overall being F/C, pink, yellow, and blue. The had her H/C hair up in a bun with two strands falling over her shoulders. She had a pin that kept her hair up with a beautiful flower attached to it. To contribute to her Japanese asthetic, she had a folded fan that was black with red cherry trees designs in it in her hand.

She smiled at herself in the mirror one more time before she turned to face the door. She slid open the door to the guest home and put on her shoes before walking outside. She closed the door and prepared to head off the selected location. On the other hand, Hanzo was sure to be formal as well.

He wore a montsuki, which is a formal black kimono worn over a white under-kimono and hakama, which are traditional Japanese trousers. It was common for samurais to wear this underneath their armor, so it suited him well. After all, he was both ninja and samurai; he kept his hair in a man manbun as well. He was very good at maintaining a formal way of speaking and acting, yet he knew Y/N isn't all that. Someone as free spirited and naive really isn't all that capable of it, in his mind.

He was sitting down in a chabudai; one of those short legged tables that have cushions to sit on your knees on rather than to sit on chairs. At the moment, in another room of his lonely home, was a kettle that was boiling water. Authoress is not a Japanese fanatic who knows Japanese and is basing these designs of real Samurai and Wife dolls by their bed, I swear. It was perhaps halfway done by the time he heard a voice call from the outside of the front door; "Hello, it's Y/N. May I come in?"

Hanzo smiled softly to himself as he stood up and walked over to the door, sliding it open. To say he was shocked to see the free spirited girl in such a good-mannered attire was an understatement. "You look lovely tonight," he stated as he looked Y/N head to toe. On Y/N's side, she noticeably blushed and gave him a sweet look.

"You look lovely as well, truly."

Hanzo raised a brow and stepped aside for Y/N to step inside. And rather than her normal fast walk with swaying arms side to side, she slowly walked in with her hands held together in front of her. "I haven't yet seen this side of you, Miss L/N. I am a proper kind of person so don't think I won't hold it against you if you act unmannerly," he teased as Y/N giggled to herself and took her shoes off at the front door.

"I thought that maybe I should act a bit more, I guess, fancy in order to match you. As long as you don't believe in the whole women are beneath us bigger men and shouldn't talk unless spoken to thing, then this shouldn't be too hard, hehehe," Y/N said as she was lead to the chabudai by Hanzo. She sat down on her knees on side and he on the other.

"Of course I would not act on such a thing. We are all human with equal rights," Hanzo replied as he sat his hands in his lap. His looked down at Y/N'a hands, which were on the table, before shooting her a look that told her that she was doing something wrong. Y/N hummed in confusion before gasping lightly. She put her hands in her lap and smiled innocently, creating a chuckle from Hanzo.

Come to think of it, the hone hasn't yet been described. It's easy to imagine the paper and wood that made up the walls and doors, and the warm light that shun over the two people. The carvings on the wood above them and around them, the large pot with a bonsai in it in the corner of the room. The little wooden seats with drawers distilled in them built into the walls of the home. The wooden tables with traditional statues and little plants in pots across the home. The sword holder near the front door, the mats across the floor to give the unique taste. In the kitchen had built in furnaces where people would burn a fire in the wholes on the bottom and put cooking appliances and kyūsus on top of it. If you don't want to imagine that, here's something help.

"Have you ever studied Japanese arts? Surely you must have had some experience in a place like this, or perhaps a friend to lecture you on what to do," Hanzo explained his thought process as he looked interestingly at the smaller girl.

"Actually, I had Kuai teach me a lot about Chinese culture. But when I met a swordsman named Kenshi, I learned more of Japanese tradition. I may not be the best, but I tried to use my knowledge of both cultures to act as good as possible! Um, I mean," she paused as her face lit up red. "To act as good as possible." She but the inside of her lip nervously as she grew more and more embarrassed of her voice level as she spoke. Hanzo chuckled.

"I'm glad I invited you here. You are very knowledgeable it seems. Plus quite entertaining," he complimented. The kyūsu began to steam loudly, meaning it was finished. Hanzo glanced over to the kitchen.

"Heh, I wouldn't say knowledgeable," Y/N replied, "but thank you." Hanzo stood up, nodding his head towards her as he walked put of the room.

"I apologize but the tea must be attended to. I will be back in a few moments," Hanzo explained before he disappeared behind a wall. Y/N nodded in understandment and began to fight with her hair, kimono ends, fingers, and whatever else she could once he walked out. When Hanzo walked into the kitchen, he felt heat rise to his face. He leaned onto a little table with his hand on it to keep his steady and his other hand over his chest. Oh kami, he thought, she gets cuter each time I see her. Whether she's trying to be like me but failing miserably or being her bubbly self does not matter; she is perfect.

He did his best to calm his nerves before grabbing the kettle from the furnace and grabbing a kyūsu, an appliance for making tea, and slowly pouring hot water into it. He made a kind of sweet green tea, one that many foreigners don't know about, called Sencha. It has to be made with the coolest kind of hot water, basically, otherwise it will turn bitter. He made sure the watch it carefully for about half a minute before grabbing two cups and pouring the tea. He then picked up the two cups and headed back to the chabudai. Yet before he got to the room, he paused.

A feminine voice sung a soft song as she waited for Hanzo to return. Hanzo felt his cheeks heat up again and his chest felt warm. He could recall this feeling but from where he first felt it is unknown to him. The ready may be able to assume that he was thinking of his first love, his wife, and how he felt when he fell in love with her. But that idea hadn't even crossed his mind as he felt there was no way he could ever feel such an extreme emotion towards anyone else. And marriage isn't even a question since she isn't from the clan. He took a deep breath before walking back into the room.

Y/N stopped singing and she smiled widely as she saw him. "Hey Hanzo! Or, um, sorry, haha. The tea smells very nice," she complimented as she gripped the sides of the cup with her little fingers. Yeah, there was definitely a way he could feel such an extreme emotions towards anyone else. Hanzo sat down on his knees on the other side of her, mumbling a quick thank you to Y/N and a thank you to the Gods' gift of tonight. And in his mind, a thank you for what to him felt like a gift from the Gods' to end his grief from his early wife.

"Mm! This is really good!" Y/N gasped after tasting it. "This is the best tea I've ever had!" Her eyes were wide in awe and her expression showing her impressment. Hanzo chuckled at her adorable reaction as he took a sip of his wom drink. It's been maybe 8 minutes since Y/N got there and she already forgot to remain all traditional and civil. It was adorable to him; she was so precious really.

And throughout the night, the two of them talked and laughed and jokes and got close. They remained at the chabudai most of the night, aside from when Y/N asked for a tour. She adored the bonsais, scenery that can be seen from outside the window, paintings around the home, and everything. She was so naive but to Hanzo, that wasn't particularly a bad thing. It made her all the more fun to be around. And because of how great of a night they were having, they even agreed to meet up the next day.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/N," Hanzo said as he stood up from the chabudai. "I will be back in one moment. Please help yourself to more tea if you'd like."

"I will," Y/N responded sweetly. Oh, on a side note, Y/N completely forgot about the traditional thing completely so don't expect her to stay put in the few minutes Hanzo was gone. Actually, by the time Hanzo came back, Y/N had her head in her arms on the table her body slowly rising and falling with the rhythm of her breaths. Hanzo couldn't help but find himself smiling down at her. He got that warm feeling in his chest again though it was different this time. It wasn't as unfamiliar as before. He knew what it was; it was love slowly blossoming.

He sighed softly before picking up the sleeping girl's tired form and carrying her against his chest. She shifted a little bit in his grasp and ended up being hudled against him more, making that warn feeling in Hanzo's chest grow more. Such a sweet, innocent creature. He slid open his door and brought her back to her guest home, where he laid her in bed and brought her hair down from its updo in order for it to not be as bad of a mess tomorrow. He kissed her forehead and then left to sleep in his own bed until the next morning.

The next day was the same as the previous. And then the day after that, and the day after that day, and so forth. But one day was a particularly cold day and a cold blanket of snow began to cover the land. Y/N was at Hanzo's place, watching the snow fall through an open window with her E/C eyes wide in amazement at the beauty. Hanzo was standing behind her with two cups of tea in his hand.

"Would you care for a drink?" He asked, making Y/N turn around.

"Thank you, Hanzo!" She said as she took the drink from him and took a big sip. It tasted sweet, as it was the tea she had when she came over for the first time. "Say, I sorta wish we could have gone outside today. I noticed that you like to fight in that place by the pond a lot; which is really great to watch! You're so strong, hehe. But you've never actually seen me fight before," she explained right before she took a sip of tea. "Y'know, I'm painfully aware that people view me as an immature, innocent, naive girl who isn't the most aware of her surroundings. But I think you'll be impressed to see what I can do," she said confidently as she hummed.

Hanzo took a sip from his tea and nodded. "Perhaps. When it gets warmer out, I'd love to watch what you can do," he replied with an extra caring tone with his voice. He caught onto his tone quickly and blushed a little bit. "But there is something we can do outside," he started.

"What is it?" Y/N asked, standing up.

"Well, there's a hotspring nearby. We can swim in there if you'd like. However be sure to dress in something not too revealing if you would like to."

"There is? I'd love to!" She exclaimed as she bounced up and down. "I'll dmgi get dressed now," she eagered on as she put her shoes back on before leaving. Hanzo grabbed her up of tea and brought it to the kitchen. It's a shape it would go to waste, but he can always make more. He returned to his bedroom to grab something to put on while swimming but please, just imagine what he'd wear to swim. Traditional swimwear is too nasty to be used in this book, but swimming trunks are too modern. As for Y/N, considering she never had a particular home or culture, it made sense for her to just wear a full body suit she could have gotten from anywhere in Earthrealm.

Of course, the both of them were sure to bathe before hopping into the hot spring. Well, Hanzo slowly got in whereas Y/N jumped in without any care. It was warm, shocker there.

"Ahh...Thank the Elder Gods for getting me here before I froze to death," Y/N shuddered as chills ran up her spine. Though those chills were disappearing as the warmth of the hot spring washer over her soon enough. Hanzo rested his body against the large rocks around the hot spring and found a seat-like area. Y/N swam around happily and sung to herself.

Oh, one thing worth mentioning for the sake of the next paragraph is that Y/N had a necklace around her neck. Hanzo had never noticed it before as it was always under her kimono or shirt. However that necklace had a great significance go it; she was told that with that necklace, she would be able to find her parents who seemed to have lost her at birth. That necklace was the only thing that remained of them and hopefully destiny was kind enough to help her find her parents.

"Kyaa–" shrieked as a splashing sound was heard. Hanzo stopped daydreaming and looked over at Y/N, who's hair covered he face and arm frantically tried to keep her body floating. She quickly pushed her hair out of her face and whined over and over again worried. Hanzo instinctively swam over there as fast as possible, grabbing ahold of her gently yet sturdy. "Where is it!" She cried out, feeling her body and looking around the waters.

"Where is what?" Hanzo asked in his husky voice that was now in a confused tone.

"My necklace! I can't find my necklace!" She replied worriedly, tears swelling in her eyes. Hanzo looked at the tears forming and felt his whole body shiver woman's his heart drop. "I can't see it anywhere!" Hanzo began to swim towards the rock formation he was against earlier, making Y/N cry out, "wait!"

"Y/N," Hanzo sternly spoke. "I will find your necklace and return it. Worry not, please, dear friend," he reassured, taking her hand in his. She shook nervously and wiped her tears. Slowly, she nodded which told Hanzo he could swim away now. And so he did; he headed towards the stop where she cried out and with one deep breath, he went underwater. He had to hold his nose for warm waters were very dangerous to go under as dangerous fungi grow in hot waters. Yet even so, he swam to the bottom of the hot spring using one hand to stir around to look for the necklace.

Y/N waited on the rocks, sniffing and whimpering. She hasn't told Hanzo the origin of the necklace, but he could tell it was important to her. When she was little, she was handed the necklace and was told it would help her find her missing mother as long as she stayed pure. What that means is that Y/N had to remain free from murder, theft, and other ways of sin. Not only that, but she could not ever preform certain adult actions as then she would never find her parents (I say that because Y/N never had a parent figure to teach her what nono stuff is), which is her number one goal in life. She grew up going from city to city, state to state, country to country, and even had been in Outworld before. She grew up with so many cultures and had never found someone that was like her in any way. It felt like she didn't have an identity as she had nothing to trace her orgins to.

Splash! Hanzo took a deep breath of air as he finally reached the surface again, with a silver necklace with a S/F/C gem inside it that's carved to show an unknown design. "Is this your necklace?" He asked as he held it up. Y/N gasped, lunging back into the water and swimming towards Hanzo. Once she got up to him, she wrapped her arms around his muscular figure and cried.

"You found it! Thank you so much!" She cried out happily, pressing her body against him. Hanzo blushed at the sudden affection and slipped the necklace back onto her. He adjusted the back of of it so it wouldn't fall off her so easily again. "I love Hanzo... You're the best friend I've ever had... I really mean it," she whimpered out. Hanzo began to swim towards the rock formation again and once he did, Y/N let go of him.

"I appreciate it, Y/N. I love you as well, you're the closest friend I've ever had," he said back to her with a warm smile on his features. Y/N smiled back at him before examining her unharmed necklace.

"Hmm... Ever since I could remember, I would move from every country in the world to another. I've been to Paris, Beijing, New York, London, Los Angeles, a few different places in Mexico and Colombia, Holland, Tokyo, Osaka, and many more. I was carried from place to place by various of adoptive mothers, and each of them left a bit of their culture and identity with me by the time I left.

"But I had one that was a fortune teller and psychic. She was incapable kf having kids and didn't want to go through the trouble of raising one, so she took me, an 11 year old girl. She gasped when she saw me and took me in immediately. Before I left her, she gave me this necklace. "Y/N," she said, "you have the potential to see your real parents again. Train, grow stronger, read, grow smarter, listen, grow wiser. Stray away from the evil in the world and remain pure from your soul to your body. This is how you'll find your mother.""

Y/N paused and looked up at the larger male. He seemed intrigued with her story and made sure to listen carefully to her every word. So she continued, "as I grew older and began to travel on my own, I thought of her words every single hour of every day. I had no reason to live as I ever did was travel and meet new people, only to leave and never see them again. Just knowing who I really was became my only reason for existing. To this day, I bet the relief of meeting my real mom will feel like being deaf and hearing music, or being blind and seeing color, or being able to walk again after being paralyzed. But now," she paused.

Y/N smiled and looked up at Hanzo. "It's strange to feel so in place, so correct. I-I know I never felt this way about any place before! But I really think that as long as you're around, my chances of meeting my mom are good! Just being with you gives me hope for the next day, truly. It's like being with you is my reason to exist."

Hanzo closed his eyes and smiled back at her. He wrapped his arms around and embraced her warmly, his head being filled with nothing but pure bliss. Y/N hugged back tightly, feeling just as happy as he is right now.

And just as soon as it came, the day was over and the two had to return home and sleep. But this particular night, their dreams were better than usual. And two days later, the snow had cleared up and the ground was dry! That meant Y/N could go train today! Unfortunately, with her absent-mindedness, she forgot she wanted Hanzo to watch her so she remained in private as she kicked thicc ass trees down in two strong kicks and crushed stones into bits by simply punching it once.

"Hai...ya!" She called out as she forcefully brought her first to a stone celler that was abandoned randomly in the woods. But hey, no one was using it, so who's gonna cry about it being broken? The impact of her punch brought a giant circular impact onto the wall, and bits and pieces of it fell down. "Hehehe! 22 more to go!" She thought out loud as she pulled her fist back again. She wasn't alone in these woods, no, as there was a particular ninja/samurai person thing, idk, watching from the nearby bush. Not to be creepy of course! He was on his way to his dojo but heard noises, and discovered it was her after checking it out.

And d a m n. If Y/N saw his shocked face the first time he saw her punch the wall with that much force and endurance, she would laugh and tease him about it for a long time. He didn't expect her to be so quick in her movements and to cause such force. Like, a short little bebe in a pink, cutesy kimono with cherry blossoms being able to cause a fucking massacre to the wall? How could you blame him?

"Hmm... that reminds me!" Y/N exclaimed as she spun around to look at Hanzo. "I told you that you should watch me train! Is that what you were doing?"

Hanzo blushed heavily and was unfortunately incapable of hiding it in the direct daylight. "Indeed, Y/N. This is truly a wonderful sight to see," he replied as he looked away for a moment. Y/N gasped and ran towards him. He took a few steps back when he noticed how close she gotten, which caused him to get a little bit more flustered.

"You're sick? You're face is all red, Y/N whined as she pulled Hanzo closer. "You should be inside, mister, getting better! Not out here watching me fight when it's colder out here! Let's go bring you inside," he said as she grabbed his muscular arm and held it close. She turned towards the village of the Shirai Ryu and began walking towards it, pulling Hanzo along. How bold.

Hanzo but his bottom lightly and remained as flustered as before. "There really is no need, Y/N," he replied back.

"You're being quite irresponsible for a ninja, y'know," Y/N replied as she continued to walk him home. Hanzo sighed and just let her pull him along. He knew she would question him if he told her he wasn't sick so he choose into except it.

"Thank you for your concern," he replied lowly. Y/N giggled proudly and nodded.

"The best for you!" They arrived to the pathways of the village and began their walk. There was a few pedestrians walking by, including a dad and daughter and a separate woman. "I'll make you some tea and you can go to bed, okay?" Hanzo nodded, smirking to himself about how funny the situation really is.

"How caring," Hanzo spoke as they arrived at his home. The got inside and took their shoes off at the front door.

"Of course," she replied before heading towards the kitchen to make tea. Hanzo wasn't sick but he's been tired lately and what's wrong with sleeping in for one day? When he got the tea, it no doubt tasted way too bitter as Y/N doesn't really know what she's doing to be honest. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

Hanzo lied in bed, with an empty cup by his side and an small girl on the other. She sat on the bed, talking to him quietly about a bunch of random things until she said something strange. "To be honest, I know this is weird, but it almost feels like we're married sometimes. I mean, we're together all the time and have a very close friendship. You let me drag you in here and give you bitter tea even though you didn't want to. That's really nice, hehe," she giggled as she looked over at Hanzo. Her eyes shun something different from simply joy this time. Instead, it showed rather care. And potentially something more.

Hanzo felt a shiver go down his spine as he looked deep into Y/N's eyes. Emhe had to examine them to ensure that he wasn't just crazy or actually sick, but no, it looked like she really did care about him more than a friend. After all these months, it was officially, wasn't it? It was mutual. Hanzo smiled as he sat up on the bed. Y/N's cheeks lit up a little bit as he stared down at her with that look.

"Sometimes it really does feel like that, does it not? I can see as a good pair to be truthful. What about you?" Hanzo asked softly. Y/N cheeks flushed pink and her expression softened.

"I agree, definitely. I mean, how can I not, heh heh. You've been there from the very beginning and I've always seen you as this big, strong teddy bear of sorta. So sweet, so nice, so caring," she replied. Hanzo leaned in, making Y/N want to lean in too. And slowly, the pair came together and finally...they kissed. It was soft, tender, and it felt like it was meant to happen. Y/N's face turned red and Hanzo's tense emotions he felt disappeared immediately.

Heh, you know what? To be honest, they lady next door was known to be crazy about losing her baby girl a very long time ago. They had matching necklaces that were bought from a village far away from their's years ago when the Shirai Ryu was attacked by Quan Chi's forces. She escaped and went into hiding, and then found a man to marry to. Her child was named Y/N L/N, and whether she's not fully Japanese or fully related into the Japanese clan, she is blood and therefore she is capable of being the love of Hanzo Hisashi. Maybe the two of them will meet some day, huh?

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