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mychlapci · 4 months ago

Note

The broodmare Megatron still being intimating and fully prepared to throw down ask gave me an idea. Specifically for the tfa broodmare ship au.

A Carrier's instinct to protect their brood is a powerful urge, and despite the Autobot broodmares being, well, Autobot broodmares, they were still at one point trained to fight. Bumblebee and Bulkhead were in the Autobot boot camp, they were intended to join the elite guard so they must have trained accordingly. Despite Ratchet being an old mech now and a Medic to boot, he was still on the battlefield and can whoop serious ass if need be. Prowl is a fucking cyber ninja for God's sake. And Optimus was the star student of the Autobot Academy, getting top marks in every class and even managed to get the title of Prime before he even graduated.

And Omega Supreme is, well, Omega Supreme.

If anyone were to enter their nests or bother their clutches/sparklings without permission, they wouldn't hesitate to start throwing hands regardless of their pregnancy status.

Bulkhead's a big mech, usually the mere presence of a massive pissed off carrier is enough to deter wannabe intruders. But if one were to try to bother him or his bitties, they would be in for a rather personal introduction to his wrecking ball fists.

Anyone who tries to mess with Prowl who's not one of his chosen studs or one of the other broodmares that make up his team is usually treated to a shuriken to the back and a foot to the face before getting kicked out.

Anyone who messes with Bee, well, they're in for quite the shock. Those stingers are no joke, he would practically electrocute them into a coma. He's also a fast little bugger so you wouldn't even see him coming before you suddenly feel the wrath of Zeus come down upon you for daring to mess with his clutches or whatever bitties he's babysitting.

Omega Supreme is a Titan. And a warship. It's just stupidity to try anything with him. Anyone who is stupid enough to mess with his hotspots will be treated to the full power of a Titan.

Ratchet, well, he usually has Deadlock to protect him and his bitties. If he's busy elsewhere, Ratchet usually just throws them out with his magnets. But if someone were to get past Deadlock, they'd have a pissed off Medic on their ass who knows the Cybertronian body inside and out and will use that knowledge against them. They'd probably still be online as Ratchet tears them apart piece by piece.

But if getting caught by Ratchet is torture, then being caught by Optimus, Megatron's personal broodmare, is a Death Sentence. He wouldn't stop at just throwing you out of his nest like the others, he would Hunt You Down. As the captain and leader of the Orion and his Autobots, his territory extends past his nest. This includes the other's nests (though even he wouldn't enter without prior permission), Omega Supreme (since aside from Ratchet, he's basically Omega's speaker), his hab-suite (it's actually Megatron's) and various other areas on the Nemesis he adopted.

So it doesn't even have to be his bittlets - or even anyone else he views under his protection - you disturbed, it could be any of his teammates and once they kick you out of their nests, you're at his mercy. Usually he just makes an example of them by scaring the pit out of them with a rather terrifying game of cat-and-mouse then beating the slag out of them to deter them from ever approaching his territory again. (The first time he does this, Megatron swears he falls in love just little more watching this half feral carrier verbally, mentally, and physically tear into the would-be intruder.) But if they were to hurt anyone on his team, any mech under his protection, or - Primus forbid - any of the sparklings, all bets are off, that just made this everyone's problem. That's a dead mech walking.

To be welcomed into the nest of a Carrier is like being on sacred ground and the Carrier is the Deity that rules it. Anyone - bittlet or not - willingly welcomed within the nest or even territory is the Carrier's responsibility to care for and nurture as much as the guest is to respect and abide by the Carrier's rules. (Which is why there's very few instances of in-fighting within Optimus' territory, he has little to no patience for such behavior.) If a Carrier feels threatened, usually a sire or other protective mech steps in to defend them. But if it's within their own nest/territory? They have no problems protecting themselves. A Carrier's duty is to protect their charges as much as it is to nurture them.

Unfortunately, the Autobots have no concept of this, which lands them in quite a bit of trouble. The first - and only - time Sentinel tries to get into Optimus' nest, he figures out real quick why Megatron likes him so much. He doesn't try to mess with Optimus again after that. (Though there is some part of him that is a little jealous of all the attention Optimus is getting.)

yessssss god, i’m a sucker for broodmares’ nests being a sacred place where no one can step outside of the boudnaries they themself set... It’s so hot to me. And the Decepticons take it very seriously. Now that they’re keeping broodmares on the ship, most of the decepticon infighting has been subdued or kept very passive, all for the sake of the growing bitties and because no one knows when Megatron’s beloved broodmamma will waddle in and overhear everything. And if he tells Megatron, then they’re goners...

oh lord, who even let Sentinel on the decepticon warship... Maybe they’re trying to seize Megatron’s ship and make a little rescue mission out of it, perhaps there’s a peace treaty in the making so the autobots and decepticons are playing nice (even though i doubt they’re willing to go through with it... the autobots are too prideful and the decepticons are already building an army, as can be seen by the broodmares they’ve collected) and Sentinel ends up straying into Optimus’ nest... Megatron’s very own berthroom.

Optimus has never looked angrier, not that Sentinel noticed. He kept trying to get Optimus to get up, putting his damn hands on him, thinking he’ll be a hero who rescued a fellow autobot who was demoted into the role of lowly decepticon birthing machine... Optimus ends up decking Sentinel in the face, something he’d wanted to do for a long time, but always chose not to, just to keep the peace.... But Sentinel tried to poke at the baby in his arms, without permission, and he couldn’t stand that.

Sentinel ends up being chased away all the way through the ship until Optimus decides that he’s far enough from his nest... Megatron is very proud (if they’re taking over the ship, then Optimus has captured an intruding autobot, if they’re playing civil, then he’s taught the autobots some manners, at least...)

#valveplug #pregnancy mention #dubcon #birth mention #texty #broodmare ship saga

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ryin-silverfish · 8 months ago

Text

LMK Fanfic: The Wild Son

AO3 Mirror

Nezha-centric one-shot. Or, "how the Third Lotus Prince learns to stop worrying and enjoy the exploration of death."

CW for suicide and extensive discussions of it. Similar to my previous story, this is very FSYY-inspired, which is shorthand for "pretty fucked-up".

Y'know, with the novel's version of Nezha's suicide being the most graphic and all.

...

The Devaraja of the North has a wild son, who bows not to his father, only the Buddha. The Buddha knows of his stubborn unreason, and sets upon his father's left hand, a pagoda.

—��Su Zhe, "Nezha"

Over the years, he had really come to loathe That Look.

You know, when these brats (technically, all mortals are kids to him) learned of his suicide and just gaped at him in wide-eyed horror. Usually followed by an "I'm so sorry" or "It's not your fault" or the slightly less grating "Man, your father sucks."

Duh, Dragonhorse Girl. Duh. But anyone who talked shit about Li Jing was in his good books, and he could at least appreciate Mei's straightforward nature.

Still, whatever prior impressions he left, he knew he was now seven years old and hurting again in their eyes, and would never stop being so.

And it drove him nuts, because 1) it didn't even hurt all that much, and 2) why is offing yourself suddenly such a big deal? Apart from some ol' Confucian bores' rants about unfilial conduct, no participants in the War of Investiture had ever batted an eye at his death and resurrection; the problem was with what he did immediately afterward.

That said, death in the War of Investiture wasn't final, logical, or that big a deal either, until it suddenly was.

...

Unlike killing, death didn't get less confusing even after you've kicked the bucket once. Nor was spending your time as a spooky ghost and getting your godhood rudely interrupted helpful, when it came to understanding the boundary between gods and ghosts, and how some people could come back but not the others.

Well, according to The Patricidal 7-years-old's Guide to Death and Deification:

People die when they get killed.

At which point they turn into a ghost, and float around going "Woe is meeeeee!" for a while before moving on to their next lives.

Unless they don't want to move on. In that case, they just haunt the living out of spite, and to get free stuff.

But wait! If enough people treat the ghost like a god and give them offerings, they'll become one and...dunno, make a new body outta faith or something.

If someone's name is on The List, it's totally okay to kill them because they'll become gods after death.

Wait, isn't that dragon prince's name on The List too? Then why is his dad so angry when he killed him?

And sometimes, a Daoist master just pops a pill into the recently dead guy's mouth and they are alive again.

It took him a surprisingly long time to realize that The List was not all it's cracked up to be, and was basically the Poor Man's Godhood. Or that knowing someone would come back in the end didn't make their absence hurt any less. Or that they could come back, but would remain forever out of reach, shackled by the duties of godhood and the chains of causes and consequences.

And even when a quick resurrection was possible, every death scarred the soul, making it fray and tear at the seams. Seven was the maximum. After dying and coming back seven times like poor Senior Uncle Jiang Ziya, not even The List could take your soul without it exploding into a billion little ghostfires that had more in common with ambience Qi than any living spirits.

He wondered if his inability to understand this fuss around offing yourself had something to do with a scar, too.

But which one? Was it the first and most gruesome one, where returning your flesh and blood also meant ripping out the itty bitty pieces of souls that were embedded in them, clinging to your father and mother like muscle membranes on a bone? Was it the one that looked like an ugly crack on a gilded statue, widening, spreading, until it shattered altogether? Was it not a single scar, but a bunch of little holes in his essence, like wormbites on a leaf, or a pool of oozing sludge left by the Blood-melting Knife?

Assuming he still had a soul in the first place, of course. Maybe instead of a soul, there's only one huge patch of scar tissue where his three souls and seven spirits used to be, red and fibrous and angry.

Yeah, try pulling *that* out of his body with a spell, suckers.

...

A popular god gains new domains like new year gifts. Namely, you seldom receive the ones you want, are stuck with the ones you were tired of, and have no idea where that pile over there even came from.

Sun Wukong shared a domain with him as the protector of youth, a fact he was strangely okay with. He took the silly and mischievous ones, while Nezha dealt with the moody, rebellious ones. An amicable arrangement, as far as dispute between overlapping domains went; were they ever to switch places, the result would be a disaster.

This, however, was when a joint operation would be really helpful.

Alas, he had no such luck. So here he was, sitting in the Megapolis Children's Hospital's inpatient ward, next to a girl with owl-like eyes and tubes inside her nose, who asked him "Being dead, what does that even mean?"

...

Nothing, 'cause it's something that happens to other people. That was how he would have answered this question, back when he was still a real kid, and not an 18-foot-tall immortal plant construct who could choose to look like a kid.

He did wish people would recognize him as something other than "god of youth", though. Or realize his older forms existed too. Somehow, when Jinzha's master appeared as a little boy with five hair buns, people didn't stop worshipping Old Dude Wenshu or Graceful Bodhisattva Wenshu, but one too many adaptations later, Nezha was just THE Kid God, and not also the Three-headed Six-armed War God of Setting Things On Fire.

Bah.

But this was about Nezha the human (was he ever human, though, with the whole Spirit Pearl thing?) and Nezha the kid, not Nezha, Marshal of the Central Altar. Who didn't quite realize death was real, as in, a thing you should try to avoid for both yourself and others, and had been told that it was his destiny to dish out death to people in some epic upcoming war.

Master Taiyi, bless the old immortal, was a perfect case of someone who clearly cared so much, yet still managed to fuck up so badly.

For all his grudges against Jinzha's master (less about the whipping, and more about his damn cat killing the Jade Emperor), Wenshu made some good points: You did not tell a kid that you would protect him from all the consequences of his actions, then set him loose and expect him to not wreak havoc on unintended targets.

...

"What do you mean?"

He'd admit, this was not his finest hour. You weren't supposed to answer a question with a question, at least not in a way that didn't make you seem all mysterious and wise.

"I..." She trailed off. "I mean, I feel dead people all the time. Brushing past me, being all chilly and stuff. Since I'm gonna be joining you guys soon, I just wanna know...how it's like." The corner of her mouth twitched; either a grimace, or an attempt at smiling. "And you feel nicer than the others. Warmer, too."

He was no god of medicine, no matter how much he wished he could be one right now. Yet he could see the flames of her three souls, dimming with every passing second, as well as the blocks in her Qi flow, with one right behind her eyelids. Her sight was already gone, and in a week, these flames would go out entirely.

Sickness, he could heal, but not a passing ordained by the Book of Life and Death. As tempting as it was to pull a Sun Wukong, if he was to remove the name of one person, what was stopping him from removing another? And another? Before he knew, he'd be striking the name of every good person off it, and only chaos could result from that.

His gaze shifted to a small charm, fastened onto the bedframes with red strings. Made of peachwood, glowing gently in his vision, accompanied by the wisps of a prayer. Please watch over her, and take away her pain. Please don't let her face this alone.

Slowly, he extended a hand towards her, a tiny spark of pink flame dancing on his fingertip. If there were still ghosts in this room that hadn't fled when he first came in, they were definitely gone by now, as the darkness dispered in a surge of Yang-aligned Qi.

"...Wow." She visibly relaxed, with a sigh. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"Are you...also a kid, when you...you know? You sound like one."

"Yeah. But I've been dead for a long time. Long before this hospital was built." He let out a dry laugh. "I guess you could say I'm a professional at this whole 'death' thing."

"Huh. I thought after a while, people just...move on."

"They do, if they aren't trying to avoid the ghost cops. The Heibai Wuchang," he said. "Nowadays, they dress like cops too, but they show up for everyone, to take them to the Underworld. Not just bad ghosts that need to be arrested."

"What's the Underworld like?"

"Dunno. Never been down there." This was partially true. At the time of his death, the Underworld bureaucracy did not exist yet. Most of his knowledge of its workings came from chatting with Huang Tianhua, whose father was deified as the King of Mt.Tai, former head of the Ten Kings. "But you seem like a good egg, so they would send you straight to the Naihe Bridge, and onto your next life."

"That's...good to hear," she said. "I wanna know more about the, uh, ghost part, though. Does it stop hurting when you die? I've been...hurting for so long, I'm starting to forget what it's like, before...this."

"Yeah, the pain stops," he answered, "but so does everything else. You just stop feeling things altogether. Smell, touch, warm and cold and all that jazz." He paused. "Being a ghost is very, very boring."

"And you still don't wanna go with the ghost cops?"

"Well, I killed myself, and that gets you stuck in the City of Wrongful Death." He blurted out, before realizing that this was the worse moment to be honest, and braced himself for the awkwardness to come.

"Sounds like an awful place."

"Pretty much. They said it was just full of depressed ghosts, being depressing together," he chuckled. "Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I think I'll pass."

"Glad I didn't...go through with it, then." She said, then quietly added, "I nearly did, when the pain got too much, and the cost just kept rising."

Well, that wasn't quite what he expected. But he wasn't too surprised, either.

...

They thought his suicide was an act of despair. It was insulting, honestly. Both to the strength of his will and spite, and his unconventional problem solving skills.

See, when people said that your body and skin and hair were given to you by your parents, the implicit message was So you can't do anything to them, and They own you, every bit of you, and above all, Obey.

You weren't supposed to give them back, not so flippantly. Yet it was the simplest, most obvious solution, in the same way beating up the dragon king who tried to sue you was. (Guess he really was Taiyi's student.)

At the heat of the moment, it was quite thrilling. Almost liberating. Like a snake shedding its skin, a baby bird breaking out of its eggshells. As the raging storm and roaring tides drowned out Fate and Destiny's ever-tolling bells, for a second, he really felt like this was the end.

No more Spirit Pearl, no more unruly child, woe of his mother, doom of his lineage. No more Li Jing, no more questionable advices from Taiyi, no stupid dragon kings, and none of that Vanguard of the Zhou Army crap. Just a kid sacrificing himself, laughing and laughing until he chocked on his own blood.

Just Nezha.

But obviously, things didn't end here. Death rarely was the true end, nor did it tie things up neatly, like cutting through a knot with a sword. It was more akin to what you got when you broke a lotus root in half, full of sticky, near-invisible threads, stretching on and on between the scattered pieces.

...

Believe it or not, this wasn't the first time he had to deal with suicide, kids, or suicidal kids. Especially after gaining one of his more recent domains. He is the protector of all young people, regardless of who they fancy or whether their bodies match their souls, it was just that those who didn't fit the common denominator tended to get a lot of shit for existing.

(As annoying as the "Third Princess" nickname was, he had no problem with people finding strength and comfort in his legends, in severing ties, defying norms, and blossoming inside a changed body. After all, that was what gods were; a mirror that reflected the worshippers' beliefs and needs back at them.)

A few decades ago, he was summoned by a teen, standing on the bank of a river, holding a stick of incense. Dunno where, just that it was a Hokkien-speaking area and one of his temples was nearby.

They gave him a hopeful look when he showed up, emerging out of the water like an actual lotus plant, yet remaining miraculously dry. As hopeful as someone in their circumstance could manage, at least.

"Is it okay if I ask you to curse my parents?"

"If that's what you want, you are praying to the wrong god," he replied. "And the kind of gods who accept such requests will make you pay a price you are never ready for."

"Damn. Guess I'll just have to come back and haunt them myself, then."

They knelt down to stick the incense into the mud, then started wading their way into the shallows. He sighed, and they were promptly dragged back by his red sash, struggling furiously.

"Let go of me!" They screamed, muddy water splashing beneath their sneakers. "W-Why? I don't get it! Why are YOU stopping me? You, of all gods! The child who hacked himself to pieces, and tried to kill his asshole dad——"

"And got a burning pagoda dropped on him for his troubles." He said flatly. "Need I remind you that it all took place a thousand years ago, and I'm no longer out for his blood?"

"Oh, so they'd beaten it out of you! Good for you, I guess." They snapped. "But not me. Why would you even care if a freak like me died or not?"

"gin-na, you just admit you are gonna become a vengeful spirit. And I literally have 'subduing demons and harmful spirits' in my job description. So maybe, maybe, I'm gonna have a problem with that?"

"Even if they totally have it coming?" They retorted. The first two buttons of their collars had come loose in the struggle, exposing the ugly patch of bruised purple around their neck, as well as implications of worse things. "I thought gods were all for karmic justice."

"Especially if they have it coming," he said. "Which is why I'm stopping you. It's not gonna work."

"What does that even mean?"

"Ugh. Look. Suppose I let you drown, without alerting any ghostly officials. Suppose that you come back, haunt your parents night and day, and don't get yourself exorcised. Suppose that you inflict on them the same torment you were subjected to, and drive them to madness or some other gruesome ends." He said. "Then what? What are you gonna do afterwards?"

"I'll just...move on, I guess."

"To do that, you 'll have to cross the Naihe Bridge. And the Underworld officials won't let you off the hook that easily, not after you've accumulated all this negative karma by haunting the living." He shook his head. "I heard they take 'Hell is other people' quite literally, and punish people who hated each other by throwing both parties into the same Minor Hell, giving them a pile of lethal weapons, and resurrecting whichever side that gets killed. Over and over again."

He leaned closer. "Is that what you really want? Getting stuck in the same pit with your parents for centuries to come? Mind you, even if you get tired of the violence, you are not allowed to quit until the Underworld officials let you."

Came to think of it, that was the War of the Investiture in a nutshell. No one was allowed to quit, not even in death.

"...No," they mumbled, after a long silence. "But it's still tempting. At least I'll get to do something to them."

"Well, here's a thing you can do to them."

"What?"

"Live."

"That's it? Seriously?" They stared at him in disbelief. "Because I own it to them? Because my very existence is a mistake or something?"

"No. Because you own it to yourself," he said, "and it is only a mistake if you believe so, and if they think you are a mistake, there's no better way to prove them wrong and rub it in their faces than keep existing. Think of it like this——you ain't gonna help them get rid of you, are you?"

"Well, if you put it that way..." they paused. "But I'll still be depriving them of their favorite punching bag, at least."

"Is that what you think you are?"

"It's what I have been for the past few years."

"Yeah, sorry, but hell no. You can be way, way more than that." He grinned. "Why be a punching bag, when you can be their worst nightmare instead?"

"I thought you don't want me to haunt my parents?"

"Oh, no. You are gonna drive them nuts in a whole different manner: by growing into a successful, well-adjusted adult they no longer have any power over," his grin widened, "And watch them age into bitter, miserable old farts who'll die alone and forgotten, knowing that the moment they die, they'll be dragged straight into one of the Hells in chains, suffer for untold eons, and probably spend their next life as ants."

"That is...satisfying, not gonna lie." They bit into their lips. "But until then, I'll still be stuck with them. Thanks for the reassurance, though."

"Does that mean if I let go of you now, you aren't gonna dash into the river?"

Upon receiving a nod, he whistled, and his sash loosened around the teen, floating back onto his shoulders. They staggered back; he prepared himself, watching out for tensed muscles and all the little tells of someone who was going to make a run for it. Thankfully, he spotted none, as they retreaded their steps back onto dry land, one muddy footprint at a time.

He wasn't entirely convinced that they wouldn't change their mind later, but it was a good start. And he had just the idea to make it an even better start.

His fingers started twisting in a mudra, weaving together threads of pink and golden light into the shape of his signature seal. No, he definitely didn't enjoy the kid's quiet gasp of wonder, as a lotus-patterned token fell out of thin air and right into his hands. It wasn't like he was a show-off or anything, unlike that ape.

"Here. Take this. Go to—" He paused and cursed himself. Dammit, he kept forgetting that mortals couldn't just sense temples and their giant beacons of faith. "Do you know there's a temple over there?" He pointed east, "Like, in that direction?"

"You mean Taizi Gong? Yeah." They nodded. "Grandma used to take me there."

"If you ever need a meal, or a place to stay the night, just show this token to the staff, and they'll help you out." He narrowed his eyes, and said the next sentence very slowly. "Also, if your life is ever in serious danger, like, no-time-to-call-the-cops danger, just hold it tight, say my name, and point it at whatever is threatening you. Do. Not. Use. It. Lightly. Understood?"

He intentionally let out a bit of his killer aura, as he uttered the last few words. Not hard to muster, considering the circumstances that first drove him to develop this token system. It was always awful when he was too late in his interventions, but he swore to the Three Pure Ones, if anyone ever triggered the spell with a prank call, when he arrived at the scene, they'd wish they got caught in the explosions instead.

They paled and nodded in quick succession, then started to turn away. Before remembering something, and coming to a halt mid-step.

"I...I don't even know how to thank you." They shook their head. "If it was too early for that. If 'Thanks' is even enough. But if you are right and I do find my way out of this mess, I'm building you a temple, Third Prince."

...

A temple. Build me a temple, mother. Build me a temple, mother, for I'm cold without a body, hungry without a stomach. He remembered himself crying out, once. Build me a temple so I can be back at your side again, isn't that what you want? What you said you would give up everything for, as you picked up my pieces and buried them in a shallow grave?

Build me a temple, or you'll never know peace again.

The most frustrating part wasn't how much he sounded like the sorts of ghosts he'd beat up later, a lot, as Marshal of the Central Altar. It was the lack of context. As in, there was no memory of the before and after. Just words echoing in a vaccum, with neither pain nor sensations attached.

It was the same whenever he helped a mortal. It was the feeling he got when, twenty years later, he stood in front of a temple gate, watching the person in a suit cut the red ribbons during its opening ceremony, and thought, I've done something like this before, long ago, inside my first temple.

But I can't remember what it was, or for whom.

He knew that was how ghosts became gods. Three souls attracted by the fragrance of incense, seven spirits nourished by the ashes of burnt offerings. Ten shades of a person, molded back together into something more than the sum of its parts, by countless mud-stained, callused hands, clasped together in prayer.

He'd watched it happen before, on the coasts of Fujian. Little Lin Mo Niang, disappearing beneath the waves, only to rise out of the tides later as Mazu, guiding fisherfolks and sailors to shore with her gentle red light, just like she did in life.

Or maybe he had more in common with Guan Yu. The fugitive, the warrior with the might of a thousand man, the loyal companion. Who, despite his promise in the peach garden, did not die on the same day as his sworn brothers. Specifically, how his vengeance and fury used to hang over Jingzhou like a plague, how his name was once whispered in fear, before it became the synonym of loyalty, brotherhood and martial virtue.

Perhaps ghosts became gods when mortals poured pieces of themselves into them, filling up the holes in their psyche. Making them more human than they ever were, and could be.

Thanks to Li Jing's destruction of his idol, he'd never know.

That——that was what sent him onto his roaring rampage of revenge, right after reviving in his lotus body. After everything else had been bled dry, rage was all he had. Like thick black tar, sticking to the bottom of a broken jar.

...

"What stopped you?" He asked, without really knowing why.

"My legs. Literally. They don't work anymore. And I'm...gonna die anyways, it's not really worth the effort..." Her breath hitched in her throat, yet she still managed to squeeze out the last few words, "Then my mom came back."

"I...I'm still a little mad that she left in the first place, like, long before this. But she had a nice singing voice, when she wasn't crying, and," she sighed, "didn't start arguing with dad again. She said I had a new little brother, and showed me the photos...and I was just like, hey, he looks like a raisin, and they laughed, and I haven't heard either of them laugh in a long, long time..."

She was starting to look dazed, stuck in that liminal space between dream and awakeness.

"And I, I wouldn't mind hurting a lil' longer, if it means I get to have more moments like that."

What if you don't? A part of him wanted to ask. What if those moments are no more than baits on a straight hook, carrots on a stick, making it so that you are willing to hurt longer and longer until it's not even fleeting happiness you seek, just the mere promise of release?

But that was the bitterest, crueler part, and it could fuck right off.

"I'm sure they are glad to have you, too." In the end, that was all he managed to say, in a whisper she might or might not have heard, and only got a small yawn in return.

"Well, you sound like you're about to doze off. So I won't keep you up any longer," he said. "Any last questions, before I go?"

"What do you...look like?"

"Huh?"

"When I die, I'll get to...see things again, right?" She asked. "And you can't be the only kid here. Just...wanna...go over and say hello, before the ghost cops come."

"Oh, I'm very recognizable. You don't see a lot of folks with twin hair buns nowadays." He laughed softly. "And I promise you, when the time comes, I'll be right here, inside this very room."

"Thanks," she nodded. "G-G'night, ghost friend."

"Farewell, and sleep tight."

...

When did you stop being fun? Sun Wukong asked him, once.

When you started being nothing but jokes, he wanted to scream back. When you shut yourself in your cave for five hundred years to take a depression nap, while I drain just as much power answering the prayers of mortals as I get from their worship, and my true body is stuck guarding the fire that burn away worlds. When Yang Jian had stopped giving a crap about everything that happened outside of his precious Sichuan, me included.

When I grow the fuck up, monkey. We all do, sooner or later, yet you never seem to.

But then he remembered the look on Sun Wukong's face, as the mountain came down. A look he had seen on the faces of so many souls, as they were called up the Terrace of the Investiture.

It was Ao Guang clutching onto his son's tendons with trembling, scaly hands. It was his mother kneeling in the dirt, begging for his life and unlife. It was him handing Huang Tianhua's head back to Huang Feihu. The eldest of Zhao Gongming's three sisters, muttering a quiet "Sorry, brother" before she was swept away by Lao Tzu's scroll. Guang Chengzi looking Yin Jiao in the eyes, as they dragged his plow up the hill.

It was a monk postponing his Buddhahood in favor of the path of the Bodhisattva, swearing a vow that, for every life, he should learn the meaning of compassion anew, and teach it to others.

A pig who was once a marshal, too weighed down by his desires to attain enlightenment, who nonetheless went on to live a good life, full of good food and few regrets.

A soldier made into a monster after one simple mistake, who decided he was better than that, and, with quiet determination, followed his brother and master into samsara as their guardian.

It was a white dragon, destined to set things aflame and be consumed by flames, yet burning brightly all the same, a goofy grin on his face.

So he just gritted his teeth and kept on fighting. It was what he was made for, what he always did.

And it wasn't enough.

...

But when was anything ever enough? When did Fate or Destiny ever pat anyone on the head, and tell them they did a good job, and they'd be free of suffering, just like that?

When were there ever easy answers, for mortals and gods alike?

Azure Lion thought there would be one, that the right person on the throne could magically make it all better, and he shattered trying to make himself into that person.

One step at a time. One answer at a time. A promise kept, a visit made. That was how you do it.

After all, the great lump of molten colors Nüwa used to seal the cracks in the sky——they were but little pebbles too, once upon a time.

...

"Told you I'll be here." That was the first thing he said, as he unsummoned his wheels and sat down in midair, cross-legged.

"Oh. Well. I," The translucent girl let out a small laugh. She tried to scratch her head, before realizing she couldn't anymore. "I certainly wasn't imagining this, when you said 'twin hair buns'."

"Do you have reasons to, though?" He asked. "People usually don't see the Third Lotus Prince on their deathbeds."

"No. But it's pretty obvious in hindsight, with the warmth and all these little hints." She shook her head. "Dangit. Now I just feel kinda dumb. Still, it's good to see you again, sir...Third Prince?"

"Nezha would do. I suppose I make much better company than the ghost cops, right?"

Behind the hospital screen, the man wearing a tall black hat grumbled something about people not appreciating their jobs, before being cut off by a "Ha! Checkmate, Lao Fan!"

"Yeah. It's a little distracting when you were dying, and two guys were just having a chess game five feet away," she said. "The cheerful one is a better player, though."

"Only because you keep giving him tips!" The man snarked back. "How does it feel like to cheat via a dying kid, Xiao Xie? I bet you feel real proud of yourself right now."

"How does it feel like to lose to a dying kid?" His colleague laughed, sticking his tongue out way further than any living humans were capable of, or comfortable with. "She gave you tips too, you just aren't good enough to use them well. And she's good. Real good. This one thinks she may just be a chess champion in her next life!"

"Thank you, Mister Xie. I learned it from my grandpa."

It was such a blessing that these two didn't exist yet, at the time of his death. As grim and thankless as their duties were, Xie Bi'an and Fan Wujiu were also the most annoying pair of ghosts he ever met, the former taking nothing seriously and the latter taking everything way too seriously.

"Hey. You two, shut up and show some respect." He snapped, before turning to the girl. "I'm sorry you have to endure their presence."

"That's right, Xiao Xie! Even the Third Lotus Prince tires of you and your constant jesting!"

"This one thinks if we pay our proper respect to everyone that has ever died, we'll have no time to actually do our job." Xie chuckled. "Besides, he is clearly talking about the one who is constantly yelling, and incapable of losing gracefully. But alright, this one shall do as you command."

"...Let's go talk somewhere else." He sighed. "These two clowns are giving me a headache."

She giggled a little, as the screen parted with a wave of his hand, revealing the two psychopomps sitting on the nearby bed. "Their hats do look like clown hats."

"The clowns can hear you, you know?" Fan snarked, before picking up his baton and making a gesture in their direction. "Whatever. Begone. And remember our deal: you have four hours. Not a second more, not a second less. Understood?"

"Did you just admit to being a clown too?" Xie grinned. "This one does think a red nose will suit you well."

"Sometimes I seriously wonder why I ever agreed to become your sworn brother, Xiao Xie."

He led the girl out of the room, just as medical personnels started coming in, carefully concealing his presence from the mortals' eyes. The girl made a face when her hand passed through the doorframe, but quickly recovered.

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere you like." He replied. "Your home, your old school, that really cool arcade or amusement park you never get a chance to visit...and you don't have to choose one. Distance is not a factor at all," with a blaze of pink fire, his wheels were back under his boots again, "when I'm the god of speedy drivers. So take your time."

"Hmmm. I think," she said, after a long silence, "I wanna go see my mom, and my little brother first. Is that okay?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Let's be on our way, then."

"Alright. Leeeego!"

#lego monkie kid #lmk fanfiction #nezha #lmk nezha #journey to the west #investiture of the gods

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canyoufucksoniccharacters · 8 days ago

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Vector the Crocodile (and by proxy, Team Chaotix, but you can just do Vector if that's too much)

Oooh, a fan of Team Chaotix, huh? Well, let's get you fixed up, why don't we? One of them is gonna hog most of the spotlight and it may be exactly the one you think.

Can you fuck Team Chaotix?

... Okay, the first one is incredibly easy. Vector. I would go through his age history, but it's kind of pointless. His original Knuckles' Chaotix bio listed him as 16, and the Heroes manual still unfortunately exists, but that's all completely irrelevant, for one single reason.

If you're not fucking Vector, the local MILF absolutely is. So, he's fuckable, whether you're the one doing it or not.

Well, that one's very easily out of the way. Next, another easy one.

This is a child. Indisputably a child. Most likely younger than Tails. This is an itty bitty. He's playing with crayons. He acts, looks and sounds like a child. Though, I do feel the need to shout out Archie for the batshit insane move of explaining his behavior with actual fucking brain damage because their version was an adult before Heroes came out. This is both incredibly insensitive and poorly handled and incredibly funny for the sheer amount of tonal whiplash.

You may have noticed I didn't go in the order one would normally expect, that from largest to smallest. Vector, then Espio, then Charmy.

And that's because Espio is the most complicated and ambiguous of the three.

Yeah, those two were honestly just a prelude for Espio. He's... Gonna take a bit. From the top.

The manual for Knuckles' Chaotix lists him as 17 years old. Makes enough sense, he's a relatively stoic ninja character so seeing him up there is perfectly reasonable. Strangely, older than Vector...? He's listed as 16 in this manual, which would later be contradicted by another manual. The one we absolutely loathe.

Espio gets bumped down to 16, somehow, and Vector gets bumped up to 20. So, now Espio is the younger of the two, even though the Japanese manual for their debut game had it the other way around...? That's stupid. This manual is stupid. None of it holds any weight. It's bad, mistranslated and made every single age listing up on the spot without any bearing for anything that had come before.

He definitely acts quite mature, about on par with Vector, and the manual that holds the most weight for him lists him as 17 in Classic, which would put him well over the range by present day.

The thing is... Espio could, sincerely, go either way. Because of one little ship.

youtube

Espilver is not only entertained by the writers behind the currently-canon IDW comics, but it's safe to assume their moments together were at least partially inspired by the ship. And, funny enough, the artist who illustrated their one-on-one in said comics ships Espilver and has drawn them together before! It's far from canon, of course, and it holds less weight than something like Sonamy or Sonadow due to how much time those two get to breathe in canon and the degree to which they may be teased (specially the former of the two, on that regard), but it's definitely a factor.

We have determined that Silver's fuckability status is... Dubious, at best. There's a slim chance he might have broken 18 by now, but it's highly unlikely. So, that leaves Espio in a weird spot. There's essentially 3 options here, depending on if you mind the ship getting sabotaged or not. A) Silver is an adult, and so is Espio. Espilver compatible. Requires Silver being an adult, which is unlikely. B) Neither Silver nor Espio are adults. Espilver compatible. Requires Espio not being an adult, which is unlikely but vague enough to be feasible. C) Silver is not an adult, but Espio is. Espilver incompatible. Most likely option.

Honestly, if the ship wasn't so genuinely and unapologetically considered by the people working on IDW, I'd give Espio a surefire absolutely fuckable status, but... As it stands, the ship definitely sort of gets in the way, and makes the whole situation a bit hazy. So, for Espio, I'd say it's up to what you yourself believe. If you're willing to risk Silver potentially being confirmed a minor in the future (which is very likely and he's the likeliest to be a minor out of every non-child covered so far), you can both have Espilver and have them fuck. If you want to fuck Espio and have no regard for Espilver, then he's a decently safe pick. If you don't want to risk it with Silver but still want Espilver, then Espio is probably off-limits for you.

... Does this make sense? It probably doesn't. Whatever. Let's give him a half-fuck for now.

So, that about settles it. The answer to the question of if you can fuck Team Chaotix is:

TEAM CHAOTIX, AS A WHOLE, HAVE ABOUT 1.5/3 FUCKABILITY POINTS. You can fuck Vector the Crocodile, you might be able to fuck Espio the Chameleon, and you absolutely cannot fuck Charmy Bee.

... This one was fun, ngl. Espio took up most of it, but tackling them as a group just feels right.

#group assessment #vector the crocodile #charmy bee #espio the chameleon #sonic the hedgehog #sth #Team Chaotix

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dci-agent-dtle · 6 months ago

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Name: Rory Kurt LeBeau

Code name: Resonate

Power: Kinetic Absorption

Lore and info dump under cut:

I guess I’m an X-men girlie now. This is my fan kid for Rogue and Gambit, born some years into the future of Earth-616. The only signs that Rory was a mutant as a child were when his eyes would turn black after he fell or ran into something, it was difficult to determine what his ability actually was without further testing. After an incident during his teen years, they realized Rory could absorb kinetic energy whenever he is hit. He could then use that energy to power up his body, throw/swing an object with the equivalent force of whatever he was hit with, or even accelerate his healing. Physical projectiles and blunt force can’t hurt him, but Rory is still vulnerable to blades, magic, and other effects of energy attacks.

Rory does attend whatever mutant school is still active after his power is confirmed. He was pretty set on doing X-men stuff, but things get complicated when he has to reconcile with his status as “Prince of the Thieves’ Guild” thanks to Remy. Gambit tried to keep Rory away from Thieves’ business as long as possible, at least until he was old enough to make a choice about how involved he wanted to be. In the end, Rory still gets his own custom body armor as a gift for graduating from the Academy (while Remy’s is bulletproof, Rory’s armor is more cut resistant). Also, I just wanted Rory to continue the family tradition of just wearing a jacket over your spandex haha.

Rory is unaffected by Rogue’s touch! At most he just feels a tingle if her powers accidentally activate. I made his primary uniform color blue since it’s between green (Rogue) and pink/purple (Gambit) on the color wheel. Though it’s kind of ironic since Rory can be translated to mean “red king” (not initially intentional, but now he fits in with the playing card motif too! I tried to play into it in his teen design). Nightcrawler and Storm are essentially his godparents. Wolverine’s nicknames for Rory are (Gambit) Junior, Bits, and Bitty. His code name Resonate also gets shortened to Rez pretty often.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Pardon the inconsistent art quality, was literally trying different stuff as I drew. If you’d like more trivia feel free to ask! I only started doing x-men fan stuff, please be nice! ♥️♠️♦️♣️

#fan kid #x-men #xmen #romy #rogue x gambit #gambit x rogue #fanart #Rory LeBeau #fan child #fan character #oc #oc art #my ocs #original character

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kiraridertime03 · 11 months ago

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Talking Ultimate Spider-Man (2024) #1

So, Spider-Man, right?

(FULL SPOILERS FOR ULTIMATE SPIDER MAN (2024) #1, BY THE WAY!)

I want to have full disclosure here. This is my first Spider-Man comic. Most of my Spider-Man content came, before, from different adaptations. I mean, there was a period of my life where I didn't like Spidey, but that was in the unholy era of Ultimate Spider-Man (2012) and The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), two adaptations I am not a fan of. But I love the Tobey films, I love Spectacular, I even really like the Tom films. However, I am by no means a Spidey expert. I have heard the woes of modern Spider-Man comics, you know.

However, I did get excited when I heard of this new run, mainly because of the writer, Johnathan Hickman. Of all the American Comics I've read, a ton of them have come from Hickman, oddly enough. My first event comic was Secret Wars (2015), which sold me on him as a writer because, despite it being a multiversal event, it still worked on a small scale, on an emotional level. Then, though I didn't have time for the main books, I felt really fulfilled in reading House of X (2019) and Powers of X (2019). It is oddly compelling as an introduction, setting up this really interesting new status quo. Therefore, hearing he was writing a new Spidey book, I was intrigued. I knew about the other new Ultimate Universe intros he wrote, I just wasn't as hooked at them as the Spider-Man book.

It starts off promisingly. After giving a quick recap of what happened before to help explain things (which is simple yet necessary) recap, we spend most of the issue just learning about Peter. You know, he's a dad, however, unexpectedly to me, it focuses much more of its time on Peter's relationship with Uncle Ben. I don't mind too much, though. In creating an alternate universe, you want to discuss things that are different from what you can write in the main universe, and given this world's premise, this seems the most interesting. I fully didn't expect the Old Man Yuri, though.

This does lead to some endearing moments with J. Jonah Jameson, though. I love the moment seen above in particular, it really shows that, while abrasive, Jonah has a good heart, and cares for Peter. However, most of this helps to reveal concerns both JJ and Peter have been having about Ben's well being. Well, because May is dead

That teensy weensy, itty bitty tewwowism mentioned in the recap comes to a full head, as it turns out May died in it, alongside Norman Osborn, seemingly. They all go to this really interesting wake, headed by Matt Murdock, now a Priest, and Harry, who gives a heavy speech about it. He seems particularly scarred by these events, which I hope is explored further in later issues.

After this, we get a bit more plot as JJ and Ben storm out of the Daily Bugle as Kingpin tries to influence them in a way the two don't like. But as Fisk leaves, we meet another character, The Goblin.

I like this suit, and looking at its subtleties reveals the interesting merger of Stark and Oscorp, which can lead to interesting implications to the future. This also builds some mystery to their character, as they bomb the Kingpin... Intriguing. I am actually really excited to see where this goes, as it is likely that, if this is Harry, he'll be against Spidey due to his links to Tony Stark alone. However, this seemingly more heroic bent is an interesting use of this new universe.

Well, anyways, we cut back to Ben and JJ on a date...

They're actually talking about a new business, forging a new journal based on not lying. They have a really cute dynamic, and I hope to see more of them in future issues. However, from here, the issue pivots. The first half was mostly focused on establishing the Status Quo. Peter is married, Ben's alive, May isn't, so on and so forth. From here, though, things get more interesting.

Seeing Ben going forward in his life so bravely, Peter begins to speak on his mid life crisis. He starts asking about a longing, a desire for change. In this, Ben plays his usual inspiring role, but in a completely new context. Rather than great power and responsibility, it's more about seizing the day.

It continues to another scene of him and MJ, where they discuss the same thing. However, there seems to be a more specific focus to it. This scene, while important for Peter's character, also gives a brief moment to really build Peter's domestic life. With the pacing of the issue to this point, there hasn't really been much of this, but I also see there wasn't really much time, so it's good that it is here, if anything. However, MJ seems fully supportive of whatever it is as Peter leaves the room, we get a brief flashback.

This is were things get weird and multiversal, as Hickman tends to do. Peter learns of the whole, "Maker stole the future" thing, giving Peter the promise of his proposed future, if he will take it. We then get a brilliant scene where we watch as he gets bit, and becomes Spider-Man. There's this brilliant edit, which I'll link below, that really adds the gravitas that the moment has, taking it to the extreme.

Overall, this series seems to be about lost potential. Other people have noted this, but it is, incredibly, both a story that is metacontextually interesting, as well as emotionally resonant without that.

Look at it. On one end, this seems to be addressing the image of Spider-Man's Stagnation. It fells, with this, that his married, developed life, and his Spider-Man life were split with OMD, and this book seeks to make up for lost time. It also hits hard in a modern context, as many people's prospects have felt a sense of stagnation as well. It's brilliant, and an interesting direction to take this Peter's character. It leaves me excited to see where this book takes his character next.

Overall, what I can say about this book is that it feels like a great pilot. It gives me a good, brief taste of the characters, sets up the world, and builds intrigue, both in Peter's character and the purpose of the Goblin. There isn't a ton of Spider-Man, but all things considered, that's the least important to sell here, as people have gotten used to Spidey based action. We'll get time for it later, I'm sure.

If anything, I wish we got more time for meeting with the kids. We get a bit of them at the start, and I don't think there was really time for it in this really packed issue, but it is a tad disappointing. Here's hoping for some in the future.

Overall, a really strong, interesting issue of Spidey comics that will hopefully build into an all timer of a run.

#ultimate spider man #comics #review #spoilers #This feels a tad rambly #spider man #Excited for Ultimate X Men #Ultimate Universe #jonathan hickman

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beeceit · 1 year ago

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I have a few..... Since Bitty chirps as well as talks does that mean Casey's gonna chirp a lot with him? Also how old is Casey? Is Casey Bitty's big brother or are they closer in age? Is Bitty more attached to Leonardo due to the fact that Leonardo helped him calm down first? What is Bitty's reaction to Donatello gonna be? Does Bitty sort of recognize the older turtles as looking like his brothers or no? How is Bitty going to react to Michaelangelo? Is Bitty's favorite place in Leonardo's scarf? Cause that seems really cute. Is Casey gonna be jealous of the attention Bitty is getting or is he too curious about Bitty to care? Has anyone told April and Cass about Bitty's arrival, and what do they have to say about the baby? How would Raphael react if Bitty cursed in front of him? Who would get blamed first for that?

Your baby has taken up a lot of my brain space and I can't stop thinking about how things are going to go with the future gang and I am terrified for the other babies that just got put in a horrible bad timeline because of this situation but I'm curious to see how this is gonna go.

❤️💜💙🧡

I'VE BEEN STARING AT THIS AND GRINNING ALL DAY AT WORK, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EXCITED I'VE BEEN TO ANSWER THIS!!!!

(this will get long lol)

Since Bitty chirps as well as talks does that mean Casey's gonna chirp a lot with him? Also how old is Casey? Is Casey Bitty's big brother or are they closer in age?

Casey will try his best! The uncles tease him for it, lovingly, but they think it's the most adorable thing in the world. Casey is currently 3, while Bitty is 1 and a half. He's gonna be SUCH a good big brother

Is Bitty more attached to Leonardo due to the fact that Leonardo helped him calm down first?

Leonardo seems the most familiar to him for reasons that he can't understand. He's also SUCH A DAD even if he won't admit it

What is Bitty's reaction to Donatello gonna be?

He's gonna be a little spooked at first, Donnie's poking and prodding doesn't exactly help, but he'll warm up to him pretty quick and as he gets older they will be very close. Right now Donnie wants to study him like a bug

Does Bitty sort of recognize the older turtles as looking like his brothers or no?

Nah, he's too little to be able to piece that together. They seem weirdly familiar to him, but the poor thing is only one and a half, his brain is literally not big enough for that

How is Bitty going to react to Michelangelo?

He LOVES Uncle Angelo! Mikey is very good with kids and plays a lot with Bitty. His hair is his second favorite place for a nap :) (it reminds him of Splinter's fur)

Is Bitty's favorite place in Leonardo's scarf? Cause that seems really cute.

It is :3 It's soft and warm and he can hear Uncle Nardo's heartbeat and breathing which is very comforting for him! Even more if he's singing or laughing or talking

Is Casey gonna be jealous of the attention Bitty is getting or is he too curious about Bitty to care?

Maybe for a day or two, but he's curious and having fun with Bitty so it's all good. He's also got his mom, his aunt, and his four uncles on top of whatever other adults are closest to the family, so he's definitely not being left alone or anything, there's more than enough people to pay attention to them both :)

Has anyone told April and Cass about Bitty's arrival, and what do they have to say about the baby?

They'll be finding out at the top of next chapter, before they announce it to the whole base. They're both kinda weirded out, April is especially worried for the family he left behind, but they absolutely adore him. Casey Sr is especially excited that Jr will have a friend and immediately considers Bitty her kid. They both take up Aunt status very quickly

How would Raphael react if Bitty cursed in front of him? Who would get blamed first for that?

He'd be absolutely scandalized and immediately search for the culprit. His immediate suspect is the twins and neither of them are getting away without a smack on the head! (It was Mikey's fault though <3)

#pob #pob dissected

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musurvivalistguide · 8 months ago

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Can you imagine how the residents of the Matoran Universe reacted once they learned about eggs and the fact that birds, reptiles, and even insects can come from said eggs?

I know it's been mentioned before about them discovering and finding out about this (I forget the post or where I saw it), but I'm gonna add a step:

Imagine any of them finding an abandoned egg or an egg that somehow survived an attack by an animal hunting for food, and the closest Glatorian/Agori explains to them that if it's still viable, the egg will need help hatching. This teenie, tiny, itty-bitty lil' egg...being cared for by biomechanical beings who have large hands and heavy feet who have no clue how eggs work or why they have to keep rotating the egg in the makeshift nest near a heat stone every so often.

Now picture an egg chase around the village as the Matoran/Toa responsible for the egg have to save it from getting crushed or worse in increasingly wacky and hilarious situations where it somehow lands safely and the chase continues on.

Have I been daydreaming about said egg-cellent shenanigans and the idea of Matoran/Toa/Turaga bonding with a tiny birb they collectively raised to adulthood and getting emotional over it leaving the figurative/literal nest? Yes. Yes I have.

Am I debating writing said daydreams into a silly fic? Yes I am.

Is this inspired by that age-old classroom partner project where you have to take care of an egg? Not initially, but still a valid thought!

Am I imagining Takanuva being absolutely terrified of handling the tiny egg/baby bird (this tiny little ball of limbs and feathers no bigger than his thumb) and just standing still as a statue with it in his hands since he's bigger than normal Toa? Oh absolutely 😂

#bionicle #matoran universe #takanuva #kualus would be best bird mom and would absolutely seek abandoned nests to raise the baby birds tell me not

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ittybluebell · 11 months ago

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Itty Bitty Brains - iZombie g/t fanfic (ao3) | Chapter 1

Atom perhaps hadn’t made the best decisions in life.

Ziiiiiiippp!

But this had to be the worst.

Cold flesh pressed against his side and Atom gagged into his hand, eyes squeezed so tightly shut that stars and colourful, amorphous shapes danced behind their lids. He leaned away, but everything around him jostled and he was forced to endure nothing but close contact with a dead body. He shoved one of his three bags into the space between and clung to it like one might a life raft. Why, for the sake of his last ounce of sanity, was a body bag the best mode of transportation? But it wasn’t like there was anything else around. The body was on the kitchen floor, right next to one of his hidey-holes. All he had to do was cut a thin line through the black plastic, gather up every belonging that mattered, and scurry inside. He may have had a close encounter with a shoe. And also may have eaten shit on the second trip. But he was whole and hale and that was an achievement in and of itself for a borrower; a win was a win.

However - he gagged - that title was very rapidly losing its status.

Giant hands lifted the bag and its - ugh - cargo onto a stretcher. The body wasn’t old enough to smell, but the mere presence of the corpse was enough for the phantom scent of rot to invade his brain. All Atom could do was press his sleeve over his nose and let his mind wander elsewhere. The body right next to him, however, was a pervasive force; his overactive mind was in a losing battle when it kept snapping back to how cold and disgusting his environment was.

Oh, and did he mention fucking disgusting?

The motor was loud and the road was bumpy. He didn’t know where he was going - just away from that house. That was enough. He couldn’t bear another day in that atmosphere: the guilt, the despair, the depression - he just couldn’t do it. Traveling alongside the source was only slightly better. Those empty eyes... the way they stared without seeing, without triggering the alarms in his brain telling him there was a bean... it was unsettling. He’d never been so close to a bean in his life. He half expected the body to reach over and grab him. But it was cold, and lifeless, and that was impossible.

He scooted further away, anxiety swirling in his gut. He glanced at the hole he’d cut into the plastic, assuring himself he wasn’t trapped. He could still move. Atom reached a hand out, mesmerized by the soft light playing over his brown skin.

Wherever he was headed, there was nowhere to go but up. Wherever his parents weren’t was an immediate plus. He’d dipped as soon as he turned twenty, and he never once regretted it in the six years that followed. His only regret was leaving Lima. She’d be gearing up to set out on her own, now. By herself in this massive world. Unless she had a partner, someone she could be there for and someone who would look out for her, in turn. Atom’s next-door neighbours had a son that was Lima’s age, but word around was he was interested in going wild. It was the juiciest gossip in a while and went around like wildfire till every borrower on the street and their third cousin knew it.

Tsk. ‘Wild.’ Why abandon a perfectly good house to scavenge off the streets? Wild borrowers were moronic or insane. Better out there than inside, endangering others, Atom reasoned. The couple at 650 tried to quell the rumours, but they stood no chance against borrowers' collective knack for spreading information. Their Jellian was the taboo bad boy that tempted all the respectable families' rebellious daughters into running off with him. Atom hoped Lima had enough sense to not stick her hand in that trap. His little sister was smart, but god, when she wanted something, she would get it. He had no doubts that if she wanted to become wild, nothing would stop her. But there were so many better guys to choose from than Jellian. Gutter, for example - he was strong and kind and dependable and gorgeous-

Er, not to Atom. Obviously. Atom wouldn’t- he wouldn’t know that. Who’s Gutter? He- not- it’s-

SHOOM.

The van doors. Which meant-

Atom stifled a yelp when the stretcher rattled on its frame. He grabbed his bags and curled on top of them as his world shook and jittered. Wheels hit the pavement and they were on the move. Another door opened and the feel and sound of the ground below changed into something smoother. He heard voices above discussing his fellow passenger. Finally, all motion stopped. Atom crawled off his luggage and peeked out of the incision he'd carved into the plastic.

A large form swished past. Atom flinched back, inhaling sharply. White coat. Lab coat. Scientists.

Fucking fantastic.

Atom was on the side facing the beans. If he wanted out...

Pulling a face, Atom regarded the pale, lifeless bean. “Joy,” he muttered.

He grabbed his luggage by the straps and proceeded to climb over the woman's corpse, complaining every step of the way. He whined internally, trying to make as little skin-to-skin contact as possible. He dry heaved as he stepped over her jugular. He put his hand on the underside of her chin for balance and immediately snapped it back as if he'd been burned. He held it out and away from his own body like it was diseased. "Oh, no. Oh, god. Oh, fuck me, that's so gross." Atom jumped down and fiercely shook himself out like a wet dog. He cringed. "Ew. That is so disgusting. Ugh. I'm gonna vomit."

After several moments of leaning over and taking deep, steadying breaths, he came to the conclusion that he wouldn't vomit. He took his knife and stabbed through the black plastic, dragging it down till the hole was big enough to fit himself and his belongings. He poked his head out, surveying his surroundings. The two beans were busy behind him, talking nonsense in their voices that were far too loud for his liking. He could make it down to the floor and hide under the metal table the beans were working on. Atom crawled out of the body bag and slid down the X-shaped legs of the stretcher. He hopped off the wheel and almost toppled over when the weight of his bags caught up with him and threw him further than he'd intended.

He half-tripped into the cool, dark space beneath the table. Atom collapsed, exhaling pure, giddy relief. Laughter bubbled out of his throat. He made it. He actually made it without being spotted. Wait till he tells everyone about riding in a… body bag…

Atom's smile dropped. There was no one to tell. Who knew how far home was? He didn't know any borrowers here, if there were borrowers here. This place - this was a morgue. Or a place of similar nature. Did he want to live in a morgue? Where there was always death? The very thing he’d moved to escape? A morgue was no house. No one lived here. There wouldn't be forgotten items or stocked cabinets - it wasn't sustainable. And doctors worked in a morgue.

But. But. A morgue was a workplace, which meant he would have some nights entirely to himself. Alone. No beans, no borrowers. Lonely? To someone else, maybe. Not to him. He could listen to his own voice. Just him and his thoughts. No need to worry about the others. Except now he was even further away from Lima and god knows where that van had landed him. But there was no guarantee that he'd never see her again, right? He just needed the morgue's address, a map, and-

He shuddered. A way to travel the streets.

Shoes stomped outside his hiding spot. Atom crept toward the edge, curious. Who were these beans he’d committed himself to? The pale bean - the woman with white hair and skin - she'd almost seen him back home. He never forgot a face, especially one belonging to the person that had nearly turned him into borrower paste. He flipped her a pair of birds. Try it again, beanpole. Atom plotted his next move, taking in the rest of the morgue. It was massive! There were so many tables and carts to hide under. And was that a kitchen? His stomach grumbled. But it was such a long way and he would be running out in the open. He looked at the beans, gnawing on his cheek. He couldn't. It was too big of a risk. The other bean, the one with white sneakers, Atom couldn’t see his face. He was too close. He had a different accent, though. Something lilting that ended his words softly with open vowels. Atom was intrigued. He’d only heard that kind of accent on TV. It was... pleasant?

Atom retreated when a sneaker lurched toward him. His exhale came out in a rush as he gripped his sleeves to soothe himself. Alright, Atom, how are you gonna wiggle your way out of this one? He spied a desk, low to the ground, across the room. It sat against a half wall, the kitchen and freedom on the other side. If he could get to that desk, he'd be set. Kitchen was always the best starting point. Getting there, however, was gonna be a test of patience or sheer dumb luck. How long could Atom wait, and how long was he willing to wait? Feasibly, he could wait till his rations ran out. Realistically? Twenty minutes, max. And even that was being generous - he couldn't guess the time to save his life.

Atom sat against his bags. He folded his arms. He closed his eyes.

It must've been an hour - read: four minutes - before the anxious itching of I need to do something became unbearable. Atom's cheeks were a chewed mess and the speed at which his leg bounced could've powered an electric fan. Atom slung one bag over his backpack and the other across his chest.

Most actions in Atom's life could be chalked up to one simple phrase.

And that phrase was Fuck it.

"Fuck it," Atom declared.

He ran for the desk.

Voices droned above - they were making plans for lunch - and served as a late warning system for Atom: if the conversation cut off, Atom knew he was fucked. The tingling heat on the back of his neck was ever-present, blaring out the obvious that there were humans very close so watch out. His senses weren't any help right now; 'The Borrower That Cried Bean' kind of deal.

Atom's heart couldn't beat harder if it tried. He was used to prolonged physical feats; this distance was nothing. He could handle that. What he couldn't handle was the fact that at any moment- actually, the adrenaline rush was kind of excit-

No! Stop that. Being seen is not a rush! That was exactly the kind of thinking that gets a borrower snatched. Atom was smarter than that. Atom wouldn't be another cautionary tale. He wouldn't be a nameless victim. He wouldn't be responsible for revealing their race.

He wouldn't be mourned.

Arms pumped. Legs pushed. His face was hot.

Breathe.

Focus on the goal. Don't look back. Never look back.

Breathe.

It was all about the breath. Measured, even, full. A borrower could walk for ages and jog nearly as long. A sprint, however, had a much shorter lifespan. While he could handle the distance, the speed was something he just could not keep up.

BREATHE.

When Atom reached the desk, he tripped and sprawled across the floor, wheezing. He pressed his burning cheek to the cool floor, dust be damned, and laid there, chest heaving. His legs ached. His head ached. His lungs ached. God, what didn't ache?

This looked less and less like a win with every development.

#itty bitty brains fic #my writing #i'm finally posting it on tumblr haha #pls shoot me out of a canon why is updating this so HARDD #izombie #izombie gt #izombie g/t #g/t #giant/tiny #giant tiny #the borrowers #borrowers #izombie fic #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #writing #fanfiction

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dorothygale123 · 1 year ago

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Today's subject: footbinding! Or more specifically, the myth about the dumbass that started it!

For those who don't know, footbinding is the old Chinese practice of taking young girls and physically restraining their feet in their growth period to keep them small and 'delicate.' It is a very painful process that causes severe complications with mobility that only get worse as you get older. Thankfully, footbinding has been banned in China since 1912, but centuries of girls and women had to suffer through it.

So what kind of psychotic bastard would go out and create it?

Our story begins with the goddess Lu O, cited as having helped keep the world up when it was still forming and becoming a patron of women with shrines to her being built by ladies seeking her aid. This is where Chow-sin, the last king of the Yin dynasty and a real piece of work. You see, he takes one look at Lu O's statue and decides that this ancient and powerful goddess obviously has nothing better to do than become one of his wives. Lu O takes offense to this, obviously, and starts thinking about how to punish him.

One of her attendants, a fox, steps up and says "No worries boss, I got this!"

He does not got this.

Back on earth, the king's officials are trying really hard to convince him that trying to marry a goddess maybe isn't such a good idea, when one of them steps up and volunteers the daughter of a viceroy he doesn't like, saying she's the most beautiful woman ever. The king takes the bait and sends his 'proposal' over.

The viceroy, Su-nan, is understandably reluctant to send his sweet baby girl to this asshat. So reluctant, in fact that they go to war over it for several years. Eventually his daughter, Ta-ki, says she can't stand the suffering for her sake to go on any longer and begs her father to surrender. He eventually does, and Ta-ki is sent to marry Chow-sin.

Now, remember that fox I talked about 2 paragraphs ago? He decides NOW is the best time to show up. Not any time in the past 5 years where there was war and suffering, but now.

😑

Anyways, just before Ta-ki is sent off to marry the king, the fox comes into her room and is all like

"Hey, can I borrow your body? I promise to screw over Chow-sin with it!"

"Will you be responsible with it?"

" ..... yes?"

"........... Then I guess so?"

So he possesses her and because he sucks at his job, his feet turn into itty bitty fox feet. Deciding no one would care and nothing he did would impact generations of women to come, he decides to leave them.

(ノ｀Д´)ノ彡┻━┻

So he marries Chow-sin and not only becomes his favorite wife and convinces him to do all kinds of horrible, tyrannical things, he also wows the entire court with Ta-ki's beauty. However, no matter what they did they could never be as pretty as her. The only thing they could hope to imitate was her tiny feet by mutilating themselves and their daughters for the next few centuries.

I swear to God I'm gonna skin him.

Eventually the people have it with the evil king nonsense, rebel and execute Chow-sin. The fox leaves Ta-ki's body and goes back to Lu O for praise ona job well done.

Lu O, the protector of women.

I like to think their conversation went something like this:

Lu O: So, you waited around for five years.

Fox: Yep.

Lu O: Let a war wage on that cost hundreds of men their lives and just as many women their brothers, fathers, or husbands.

Fox: Correct.

Lu O: Possessed an innocent young girl.

Fox: Uh-huh.

Lu O: Used her body to convince the king to commit atrocities- which almost got her executed with him-

Fox: Keyword being 'almost!'

Lu O: Started a painful and debilitating practice that has already caused untold pain for countless girls and women-

Fox: I did? When?

Lu O: And you want to know if you did a good job.

Fox: .... Yes?

I feel like he needed new employment after that.

Sh*tpost Masterlist

#mythology sh*tposting #chinese mythology #lmk #lu o #footbinding #origin of footbinding #fox spirit #he's such an idiot #can i smack him?

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mychlapci · 3 months ago

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Out of everyone, Ratchet breastfeeds ageswap Prowl the most. He’s old enough that, like Ironhide and Kup, Prowl might as well actually /be/ a mechling despite his adult status. Prowl adores being breastfed and he’s also much too mortified to ever ask for it. So Ratchet likes to insist it’s for the trainee’s health. Prowl needs to be a good mechling and nurse the doctor’s boobies so he grows up big and strong. To be fair, there actually are plenty of nutrients involved. It’s just that Prowl always gets so dreamy and sweet when he suckles, pedes twitching in tiny kicks with each lazy swallow. He gets utterly milk drunk, hips occasionally giving a lazy roll or two if Ratchet isn’t stroking his cute spike to keep it hard for Prowl’s mentors.

Originally, Prowl would only get the privilege of nursing when Ratchet was “bitty sitting,” for the twins. And then they saw his melty smile for the first time as Prowl obediently repeated after the doctor to say “thank you for booby, Ratchet,” with milk still on his chin. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are obsessed with how soft and dumb nursing makes their little trainee. Surprisingly, Sideswipe is the one to get the mod. Prowl gets the mind-numbing pleasure of feeling his mentor’s spike in his dripping valve as he nurses feverishly, milk filling his tanks rapidly as his mentor strokes Prowl’s helplessly plugged spike.

Mechlings need their milkies to grow up big and strong. Or, at least, that’s what the twins and Ratchet keep telling Prowl when they sit him on the medic’s lap in a command meeting for the first time. Prowl’s spike a curved line against his filling belly as he mewls around Ratchet’s nipples. Trying (and failing) to beg not to have to nurse where everyone can see. It’s so embarrassing, watching everyone else drink the cubes Prowl had prepared only to be tugged into a lap to nurse. But he does, letting out soft noises and tiny moans when Ratchet plays with his needy spike.

“Fank you fow booby, Watchet,” he mumbles around a thick nozzle, fighting not to hump the medic’s hand and lose his privileges. Kup makes a low, considering noise at that. Jazz just moans outright. But when Ratchet’s been drained, Prowl is only shuffled onto Sideswipe’s lap instead of being released. He tries to protest; he’s now hungry anymore, promise! Milk and drool is gathered at the corners of his mouth. Sideswipe just pets his panel and drags Prowl to his heavy breast by the chevron.

“Mechlings need their milk, sweet spark,” he says firmly, “drink up.” And Prowl is helpless to do anything but obey until the desire to do anything else fades. Mentor said he needs more milky, so Prowl needs more milky. Never mind his rapidly filling tanks. With every obedient suckle Prowl grows fuller and fuller, belly beginning to grow firm with all the energon. And his arousal only grows when Sideswipe pulls the ring off of his spike, even if he doesn’t touch it anymore after that. Prowl’s so full, so warm. His spike rubs against his belly as he cuddles into his mentor, and he can’t help but grind. He looks so sweet like this, optics flickering as his cheeks hollow and fill. When Sideswipe runs dry, Prowl is a bit too fuzzy to be shocked by being passed to Kup. But there is a dull feeling of surprise when the old mech cradles him in his arms.

A pair of warm, saggy breasts press against Prowl. He turns instinctively to suckle, knowing he needs to be a good mechling. But Kup blocks him, raising an optic ridge and reminding Prowl of his manners. He’s so full and warm and horny… the world feels fuzzy and far away. But he still manages a

“Need my milky, please, Kup,” in a hazy voice. And then Prowl can nurse, nosing into a third set of breasts as everyone talks over him (about him—he’s so cute like this). There are so many aroused em fields around Prowl, but the only thing that matters is drinking up all his milky and being a good mechling for the big bots. Hard spike still trapped between his belly and Kup’s. The scent of a cygar fills Prowl’s vents. His HUD pings with a warning that his tanks are at max capacity. But Kup still has more milk, and Prowl doesn’t want to stop… He toggles a manual drain, letting some get processed straight to his waste tank to make more room. Ignores the unimportant flashing of a /new/ maximum capacity alert as he suckles Kup’s tits eagerly. Prowl’s going to drink it all up. He’s command’s silly trainee, their dumb little mechling. All the milky is for him, so he can be a big bot someday.

And then, with one final swallow, the dam bursts. Prowl feels his panels grow warm and wet as he suckles, flashing red HUD alert vanishing as he mindlessly wets himself. Still rutting his hard spike into Kup’s belly. The old mech just sighs tolerantly. He should have known that milk-drunk mechlings were the leakiest of all. Never mind the heating of his own panel. When his breasts are finally empty, he sets Prowl on the floor under the table, pointing him directly at Jazz and whispering in his audial.

And Prowl crawls straight over, aft and thighs still wet with piss, to mouth at Jazz’s closed panel.

“Please, Jazz,” Prowl mumbles mischievously, a little more alert now that his tummy is full and his waste tank empty, “I need my milky.” And Jazz creams his panel before he can even get it open.

Anyway, after that Prowl gets fed in semi-public, spark thrilling at the idea that someone could see him like this. So soft and debased, clutching a large plushy on one of high command’s laps as he suckles at their milky tits like a real youngling. Belly slowly growing pudgier as the extra energon and nutrients go to work. Prowl will have dimples in no time.

YES YES that’s what i’m talking about babyyyy. Prowl is treated like a mechling that still needs its processed, refined energon, and he can’t say no to his milky if he wants to grow into a strong soldier <3 even if his tanks are all full and achy and he’s wetting himself in someone’s lap… it’s okay, young bots don’t know any better.

mhmm I do love love love the thought of Prowl being fed in semi-public. Of course, they never do it in front of bots who are not in on their little game, definitely not in front of the other cadets. But it’s still sooo degrading when he sits down behind the table and all the big mechs have a cube… and he has to crawl into someone’s lap if he wants a drink, all flushed and humiliated as he feels all the optics in the room turn to him. He has to suck from a titty like a good boy, no, no he can’t have it in a cube, mechlings need to drink milk straight from the source :) The feeling of a warm, soft breast in his mouth is supposed to calm him down after all, they can't take that bonding experience away from him.

Prowl gets a little chubby really quickly, dimples and a pudgy little tummy and all. He’s so well-fed <3

#valveplug #texty #ageswap au #boobdayforever #lactation

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