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pool-floatie · 2 months

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(Working title)Part 3: I rewrote the last part cause I hated the other one-

Sexy vampire fic go brrrr-

Yeah i was gonna post this on valentines but the other one seemed cuter (also this was not done haha-)

📢Just an FYI the next chapter will contain mouthplay and vore elements! None in here though! (but oh god the fearplay 😳)

But here we go, more eepy vampire shit :D

(wren pov)

Dropped into the metal prizon, Wren jumped at the sharp snap that sealed their fate, scooting as far back into the metal walls as they could, they crammed themself into a corner with only their injured leg sticking out.

They stared warily, not sure what the shadowy figure wanted with them.

The cold metal beneath them stung on bits of exposed skin through the rips in their pants, but it felt kind of nice on their injuries, especially their leg.

Their leg... Wren looked at the gash, noticing a decrease in the throbbing pain, and saw their wound was .... Healing? The bleeding had stopped somehow, and all the scrapes they had sustained around the injury were gone as well...

Wren puzzled at this, glancing back to see their captor reading some book, as if their miniature kidnapping victim was second priority, but wren was glad its attention wasnt focused on them for just a moment.

Why were they healing so fast? They'd sustained a pretty shitty injury once when their hand got scraped on their hook, and that bled like a bitch and took weeks to heal! Why now had their miraculous healing powers emerged ?

(Narrator)

Borrowers: small, sentient, magical beings that live inside building walls in small families or communities, feeding on scraps and leftovers from the inhabitants and using "borrowed" material to craft intricate nests.

If extracted correctly their magic can be used in spells, curses, charms and even recipies!

Well, that explained why it was outside a bakery, Lazarus wasnt sure what the "extraction" required, not that he would nessecarily need it.. But it did explain why this creatures taste had been so enticing...

His eyes turned to the little thing, seeming to be focused on its leg.

"should be healing a bit by now, yes ?" he spoke, appearing in front of the desk in an instant.

The borrower jumped at his sudden closeness.

Pausing for a moment, it regained its composure.

Looking up at Lazarus, it spoke.

" wh- why-is.."

"it's just a convenient feature we have.. Helps avoid detection." he said.

The borrower looked even more confused

"what- what are you...?" it questioned.

Oh, Well he supposed they wouldnt know much of other creatures, needing to stay hidden and all that..

Hmmm..

" That is... quite a good question, Dear. In truth, Im not entirely sure myself, Its been quite a long time..."

He trailed off, zoning out for a few seconds.

"..In any case, You may call me Lazarus."

He gave a small bow and waited for a response, when none came he tried to prompt the little thing.

"Would I be correct in assuming you have a name as well?"

He questioned

Oh right- "W-wren"

They stammered.

"Wren.... lovely name, pleasure to meet you, Dear"

Lazarus flashed a half smile down at his captive.

"I still, I kn-ow you- you aren't human..."

"Hmm... "

Lazarus thought momentarily.

"Well,,,, I guess I should explain."

Lazarus pulled out a small wooden stool, plopping himself down.

"You may have heard stories of mysterious 'humans' who roam only at night, clad in dark clothing that partially hides a pale complexion. Some are mistaken as human, smart enough in dress and makeup to pass themselves, others perfer solitude for the most part, not wishing to bother with society.

Now of course, humans love their tall tales- of creatures like them that stalk human prey by night-"

wren gasped

" and hide themselves away in the daylight. They call those individuals 'Vampires'.

Better still, humans are dumb enough to believe that the old myths of bloodthirsty beings were just that, myths,,, though an unlucky few discover our secret~."

Lazarus' gaze drifted back to wren on the last sentence.

"you- you're -"

Wren paled, they were captured by-

"Haha, seems youve caught on then, hmm?"

Wren looked up into the vampires Maroon eyes, the shadowy room shrouding his sharp features made him look even more ghastly, they shuddered.

" are you..." they whispered, taking a breath they spoke up.

"A-re you going- to let me go?

#g/t #giant/tiny #my art #fanfic #gt art #g/t fearplay #micro/macro #giant #tiny #giant vampire #Good god im blushing at my own writing

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thesinglesjukebox · 4 months

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KIM PETRAS - "BRRR"

youtube

With Leah's help, we turn our attention to Kim Petras.

[4.94]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: When she's not being a trailblazer for the world's worst song (can you imagine the hypothetical TSJ blurbs for "Unholy"?), or receiving ire for Feed the Beast (which I secretly adore for how plodding and simple its pop vision is), it turns out Kim Petras remembers how to write a fun hook. "Brrrr" is camp embodied, far from transgressive, but delightful in its queer, whirring onomatopoeia. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I lived in queer co-ops from 2018 to 2020 so I've spent a non-negligible amount of time trying to appreciate Kim Petras. In that time -- and in the years following -- I've gotten precisely nothing out of this endeavor. The arc of Kim Petras's career is unintelligible to me, a grand chronicle in a language I can't read. If anything, her journey from "fake pop star my friends swear by" to "maybe real pop star that my friends don't talk about" is one of attenuation -- whatever star-like qualities could be discerned in her strongest early appearances ("I Don't Want It At All", the SOPHIE one, the Charli XCX one) is absent entirely on "Brrr" -- even the campy thrill of "Coconuts" and her vampy turn on "Unholy" is hard to discern here. The Kim Petras of "Brrr" is a rictus grin of forced slay, a joyless demonstration of force of will wrapping in third-generation Yeezus pop-industrial beats. [2]

Hannah Jocelyn: Alright, who gave Rami Yacoub the SOPHIE sample pack from Splice? Forget hyperpop; this is hypopop, devoid of any sort of invention or interesting production that once defined the genre. This is what CRASH sounds like to people that hate CRASH; this is what 10,000 Gecs sounds like to people who hate that record. Petras has no distinctive identity here; I don't even hear a woo-ahh; she even says "you don't know me all too well" and I agree. [3]

Oliver Maier: Don't have any idea what "if you think you're so cold, brr" is supposed to mean and producers ILYA and Rami evidently got overexcited with the SOPHIE sample pack. Improbably, it mostly gels. Kim Petras is probably evil but her performance here is seismic. [7]

Will Adams: I'll give her this: I can't remember the last time a pop song's central hook landed with such a tremendous thud as "IF YOU THINK YOU'RE SO COLD. BURRRRRR." [3]

Brad Shoup: That hook -- ouch. It would kill in the writers' room of an industry drama. The pre-chorus -- where she retreats for a second just to explode -- breaks up the squelch just fine. This looms more than it bangs, which feels right for a song I thought said if you like it baby, haunt a lobby. [4]

Nortey Dowuona: The bass drum in this is novel in that nothing is actually done upon closer inspection. There's a lot done with the synths, especially with the quick zaps of melodies that bubble up during the second pre-chorus, the quick bubbly riff at the tail end of the chorus, and the light motif at the beginning that is so thin it disappears upon quicker inspection. These all sound delightful, but listen to the bass drums, stripped of their ability to carry the baseline or shift the rhythm of the song. They could've been replaced with literally any kind of drum sound and it would function the same. It's just thrown in there since capital-p Pop music has absorbed rap production techniques wholesale without paying attention to how it's used. This could be coming from say, house or bass music, but nobody who made bass music would program bass drums this way, right? [4]

Micha Cavaseno: Extremely funny to hear the punchline flow still utilized as a hook in pop in 2023, because all the parts that feel very much like the past aren't the obviously retro-touches. The robotic elements of the production going for tech-electro knuckle-drag are nice and sleek, a classic vehicle if ever there was one even 40 years after this stuff was a trope. But the brrr, the filter on the backing vocals, the devil-may-care attitude gone world weary all meanwhile feels like the clichés of a decade ago that don't quite feel ready for nostalgia. I guess there's something to be said about a record that feels beholden to its dated elements being so "cold", but not everything cold is super inviting. [3]

Will Rivitz: As cold as a fridge set a degree or two above the FDA standard, and as enthralling as a piece of iceberg lettuce dessicated after a week left inside. [4]

Aaron Bergstrom: *Kenneth Parcell voice* "What's cocaine like?" [2]

Alfred Soto: What sucks is that this song doesn't suck. My students could've commissioned the vocal from several AI resources, the electronics don't grate. What sucks is that the hook sucks. "Did she really sing, 'If you think you're so cold, brr'?!" On first listen it sounded like "If you think you're so-ber." Guess which I prefer. [5]

Taylor Alatorre: Kim Petras released two albums in 2023 and I honestly didn't remember that this was on one of them. It provides a glimpse into one potential Bad Ending to her still-promising career: getting so hyped off the Sam Smith streaming numbers that she loses the ability to discriminate between "bad bitch energy" and movie trailer music. [4]

Harlan Talib Ockey: After the mediocre "Unholy" and laughable "If Jesus Was a Rockstar", "Brrr" actually sounded... good? Petras' delivery in the chorus is like getting smashed with a warhammer. The production is utterly headache-inducing (compliment). However, the verses feel less and less substantial on repeat listens, and it never builds to a peak higher than its first chorus. This is a solid album track, not a course-correcting lead single. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: Feed the Beast was named for its raison d'etre: source enough pop songs to hit your label KPIs, then spray and pray and slay. What's less remarked upon is how many of these songs come from writers and producers who really haven't released much lately: Sarah Hudson, Ali Tamposi, Ester Dean (!!), and "Brr" producer Ilya. (Unfortunately, Dr. Luke has released plenty lately.) Also involved in "Brr": a session guitarist for The Weeknd and a guy who goes by the Instagram handle @industryplant; this ain't the A-list. One wonders how long this material was sitting in the pantry before it fed the beast. Specifically, "Brr" sounds like a demo written for Thank U, Next (in which Ilya was heavily involved), then rejected for sounding less sexy than sad. Whatever the song's provenance, Petras has it now, and she executes the motions of flirtation with bleak competence. And I don't hate it! The record's already cynical as fuck; why not put that subtextual cynicism into the music? [7]

Ian Mathers: The sound of not just calling someone's bluff, but relishing in it. There's no winning; either way, you're going to prove her point. Rarely does a discussion of temperature sound so purely withering. [9]

Leah Isobel: SOPHIE's absence hovers over me a lot, which is dumb, because we never met. I am just a fan; I saw SOPHIE live exactly once, about six months after I started hormones. I can picture myself that night vividly -- in a thrifted jersey dress, cut low, that I had to duct tape to my tits so I wouldn't break the law; in impractical high heels that another girl, who I don't talk to anymore and who probably didn't really like me, gave to me; my eyeliner as sharp as I could draw it; my hair tangled and messy but long, the way I liked, the way I'd dreamed about for years. I remember that night and I remember the relief, the stupid fucking unbelievable unbearable incomprehensible relief of that whole year, how I had denied and ignored myself for so long that just being who I wanted 2 be was incredible enough to set my head spinning.

That year, the girl who doesn't talk to me anymore got into Kim Petras. I treated her work like a guilty pleasure; "Hills" was spacey and fun and exuberant, "Hillside Boys" was tender and sweet and exuberant, "All The Time" was bouncy and bright and exuberant. But all that joy was tempered by the knowledge of Dr. Luke's fucking greasy hands gripping her recording contract. His presence indicated something that I didn't understand yet, and maybe still don't, though it makes sense intellectually: that if you want to be a part of society, the recognition you feel within yourself doesn't actually matter that much if everyone around you hates you for it; that people are ultimately social, and being forced to choose between external ostracization (with the threat of physical death by violence) and internal spiritual death (with the threat of physical death by isolation) is one of the cruelest things to do to a person, and yet this is the choice I was given, that #girlslikeus are all given. No matter what I choose, there will be genuinely evil soulless fuckers who look at me and say that it was really my fault to begin with because my presence -- just my existence in the world -- is proof of moral, social, civilization-wide decay. Cisgender women get to talk about their innocence as if it's a birthright. Transgender women are not given any innocence to begin with. Kim was put in front of the media at sixteen years old to explain her decision to get bottom surgery; it makes me feel crazy to watch those interviews, to know that what everyone is actually talking about is her body. No matter how ostensibly supportive those interview segments were, no matter what the intent, the knock-on effect was to make her teenage body a matter of public record, to take away her privacy and dignity because it's just so interesting that trans girls exist and, please, tell us more about your genitals! I see the neon-bright straight line from the invasive, violating, violent "curious" "empathetic" gaze in these interviews to the music Kim would go on to make, in which the fact of her body hovers on the edges of her songs, freighting them with meaning, making their frivolity feel manic and fearful and rebellious and unbelievably significant.

Jules Giles-Peterson describes the opening line of "Hillside Boys" -- "My silhouette is in the frame of your shades again" -- as evidence of her desire just to be seen, linking the heterosexual gaze of the individual man and the patriarchal gaze of the pop industry together. Her whole perspective on herself is compromised by the knowledge that she has to constantly prove her worth to other people and to society at large; there is never, ever a moment of rest. But that song held up the capacity for feeling as proof that things could change someday. "It's over in your Range Rover... You look so pretty when you're breaking me, yeah" mourned the loss but rejoiced in the ability to feel it. But when "Brrr" revisits that Range Rover, it's to remove all sense of warmth, desire, or real emotion from the image: "Turn the heat up in your Rover Why don't you take it out on me?/ If you think you're so cold, brrr." "Brrr" leaves absolutely no space in its tense, cold atmosphere for Kim to express a desire that feels authentic and real; it is about embodying what other people want from you so thoroughly that you have gone numb to what it is that you want. In Kim's work, being a woman and being a pop star are the same thing; the gaze is constant and inescapable. There is no interiority anymore. The demands of disclosure and confession and surveillance are too great. In the background, faux-SOPHIE wubs and schwacks and clangs rattle like ghosts, banging on the wall between death and life, between what should be -- what was promised -- and what actually is. More than anything, in "Brrr" I hear a grief so wide it could -- and should -- swallow her whole. SOPHIE is gone. Kim remains. But in our broken promise of a world, where her body -- my body -- is public property that politicians and lovers and friends and music producers can dispose of at will, what is there left to take joy in? This is the truth: being trans is wonderful, and everyone around me sees it as terrible. Transitioning saved my life, and everyone around me thinks that I died. I have never been this happy; I have never been this desolate. I have never loved so deeply. I have never felt loss this acutely. "Brrr" is purely evil in its emotional perspective, in what it says about the world we live in. And it is also the most honest song ever made. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#kim petras #music #pop music #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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xxgrrawrrgrrlxd · 2 months

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Hi guys!!! <3 Welcome to my grwm!

So today, I'll be putting on a kawaii dress with a bunny pattern with some fleece lined tights underneath because a girl gets cold, brrrr!!! For my jacket, I have this light purple velour cropped hoodie that I got from Walmart for such a steal. Just a second while I step into my white combat boots.

I like to do my hair in two little buns wrapped with my fuzzy scrunchies. Today, I chose the purple ones. I like to braid my hair before I put it into buns because if I don't, they always fall out >_>

For accessories, I shall don this cute holographic heart choker and my trusty pair of pink cat ears.

I know you guys love the way I do my makeup, so I'll go through everything I do to top off the lewk :3 I'm in kind of a hurry today so I'm gonna try and make it quick

So what I'm going to do first is take my trusty face paint palette and go absolutely ham on my face with the black, white, and purple. You know I love to color coordinate uwu. If you're following along at home, just remember to get it everywhere, all over your face, no wrong answers. Next, I'm just gonna grab my boyfriend. He's the best, I trust him with my life <3<3<3 We do this just about every day, so he's already here with the car keys.

So now that we're in the driveway, I'm going to lay my head down a few inches away from the front right tire of my car (this one has the best tread) with my pillow (with the silk pillowcase ofc!!!) under my head. And you guessed it! He's just gonna roll over it. My skull is almost at its breaking point, but I've made it this far, so I'm guessing I'll be fine. My parents always said I had a hard head lmao

I hope you enjoyed this grwm! I know you guys have been begging for my routine. You can follow me on tumblr @xxgrrawrrgrrlxd and down this alley behind my house (don't worry about the baseball bat >:3)

#is this something #woke up from a dead sleep to write this #unhinged #tw disturbing #wagawagawaga

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justcallmel0u1e · 1 year

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Stuttering with June

Chapter 1: Describe Stuttering

“So June how would you describe having stutter” My speech therapist said. “Uh w-w-well i-i—it f-feels like h-h-having a t-t-tape o-o-over m-my m-mouth” I said. I still had more to say but I ran out of breath while speaking so i guess I’ll just stay silent for now. Like saying the part where it feels like my lips aren’t moving right or something is blocking my throat.

30 Minutes Later

“Okay well that’s the end of our session,have a great rest of your afternoon and I will see you next Tuesday June” Ms.Wellhart saids while waving and smiling at me and my mom.

My name is Juan Reyes but I prefer it when people call me June. There’s not really special about me other than I have stutter. If you’re wondering what stutter is here is the definition of it

Stuttering: A speech disorder involving frequent problems with the normal fluency and flow of speech

It’s very frustrating living with the fact that I can’t even say my own name without stuttering. It makes everyone around me frustrated especially my mom. Whenever I try to speak to her I always end ruining her mood and end up making her snap at me about speaking right. I don’t mean to make her mad I just want to talk to her.

11/2/23

*Ring* *Ring*

What the hell it’s morning already? it feels like I only got 2 minutes of sleep. I get up and wash my face with cold water. “BRRRR” I shout when the ice cold on my face. Then I started to brush my teeth with mint toothpaste.

Time skip to bus

I get on the bus and just get bombarded with noise of screaming and laughing. I’m actually really sensitive to noise it makes me very overwhelmed. And it makes my heart feel like its about to pump out of my chest. I go sit in the front which was the most silent.

Some girl who seemed to be my age sat next to me. She had dark brown hair and had peach skin she also seemed kind of skinny. After a while of being on her phone (I guess she got bored) she decided to start talking to me. “Hey!” She said loudly while tapping my shoulder. I turn around looking startled from her shouting at me.

“My names Elle what’s yours ?” Elle asked.

“Don’t stutter,don’t stutter,don’t stutter” I kept repeating in my mind. “J-J-J-Jun-“ I tried to say my own name. Is this really the point where I have gotten to the point where I can’t even say my own name. I notice Elle looking at me weird I noticed that she seemed to be giggling. “Ok J-J-J-Jun” she said while mocking my stutter.

“HEY YOU GUYS GUESS WHAT!” She shouts to her friends. “This boy can’t even say his name right” Elle saids as she pointed at me. “Dose he have like brain damage or something” One of the other girls who I am assuming was Elle friend.

Quickly the whole bus started laughing and mocking me .

And………

End Of Chapter 1

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lolibles · 3 years

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idk if this counts as a hc but i think,, since kazuha’s hearing is so sensitive that he picks up sounds of nature so well — during thunderstorms in inazuma (since its like ALWAYS raining there ??? its so annoying like 😭 cant even use pyro swirl to defeat maguu kenki cus it turns into hydro dmg instead),,, so during thunderstorms he probably gets rly disturbed by it esp when he is trying to rest and would . go to you for comfort,,, then cue him just sleeping with his head buried into your chest and hearing your calm heartbeat that puts him into deep sleep <3

yes omg omg omg???? THIS IS SO CUTE i will comfort him all he wants literally. im naturally very warm so pls i will give him all the huggies, and anyone who wants hugs pls im a very squishy person

anyway speaking of kazuha comfort,

i keep thinking of this scenario where kazuha gets up and leaves one day because his emotions go brrrr, and its getting late and its raining because i said so. but you stay up waiting for him, and he walks through the door, drenched from head to toe. you can’t tell if its the rain or that he’s just been crying thats why his eyes are so red. you are betting on the latter though. you notice the empty vision in his hands and just know its one of those days. you push back the thoughts of lecturing him for making you worry like that, and scolding him for leaving without saying anything. all you do is grab his cold hands, placing the dulled vision on the table and sit him on the chair. you slowly take off his wet clothes and dry him off with a towel. you move from his body to his hair, no words are being exchanged in this moment as you slowly pat his hair dry. combing his white locks with your fingers. and thats when he chocks out your name.

“im here” you say, using one of your free hands to caress his cheek. kazuha looks up at you for the first time that night, his eyes are bloodshot and you feel your heart crack. he watches your eyes widen and immediately looks back down his head facing your stomach. his hands finding their way to your shirt and gripped onto it.

you could hear his tears and sniffles as he held onto you for dear life.

“please, please just make me forget everything.” he cries out. your arms wrap around his build and pull him close. rubbing his back like you would to a baby. you let him cry into you, he always comforted you. and you were always going to be there for him.

“i will. i will. i love you.”

anyway,,,, thank u bby for sending me that! i love it <3

#lolible writes #genshin #genshin impact #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha angst #genshin x reader #genshin angst #lolible likes talking

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poppy-metal · 3 years

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You said send thirsts so here I am for once not about Sukuna. Anyway drummer!Eren fucking you in his band’s practice area after you made one too many little comments at him. Even better if it’s bully! Eren who forced his favorite little nerd to skip school to watch him practice. The reason he’s fucking you? He’s tired of hearing you worry about what will happen if you’re caught skipping and/or you’re making digs at his playing style and he just wants you to shut up. But he also wants you to enjoy yourself too, to enjoy him even if he won’t say it

He stands up suddenly from his drum kit to walk around it, smirking when you blink up at him like a deer caught in headlights as he grips your chin. He looms over you, and you have to crane your neck up to look at him properly this close. “Loosen up, sweetheart.” He smirks. “Or do we need to repeat what happened on the bus, hm?” That fiend, the bastard, the utter menace-

Or if you wanna go all cute on it bc I’m also a big fan of himbo Eren hopelessly in love with you; You come to watch him practice and after everyone else has gone y’all are just chilling when he just. Starts tapping your ass with his drumsticks. He snickers and says he’s found his new favorite kit while you kick at him in embarrassment.

ANYWAY AS YOU CAN TELL I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ABT DRUMMER EREN I SAW YOUR TAG AND MY BRAIN WENT BRRRR. I APOLOGIZE FOR THE LONG ASK AGSHDHD -Sukuna thirst anon

*takes your brain out and kisses it* TBIS IS SO PERFECT??????? YOU'RE SO SEXY FOR THIS

b-bully!eren as a drummer? 🥺👉👈 seeing him as a little more grunge in this AU, wearing all black w black chipped nail polish kinda beat. maybe a tongue piercing or a lip ring, DEFINITE studs in his ears. black combat boots, manbun OOOFFF. His voice is so deep and smokey when he sings, m gonna cry. It sounds so hypnotizing, you forget hes the bane of your existing for a little while, entranced in how he looks, the sweat that drips off his brow, the way his black band tee clings to his skin, the way he bites his lip in concentration. Add to that the way he looks up and meets your eyes, so intense it roots u to the spot and sends a gush of slick running down your legs through your panties. His eyes are sex, as he hits every beat w his drums, every note with his voice.

It leaves you all spellbound even when the practice ends and he's getting up, shaking out his hands and spinning a single drumbstick as he jumps down from the stage to approach you, appraising you with a kinda cool arrogance that makes you snap out of your trance.

"So?" He intones voice like chocolate sliding over you, he has an eyebrow raised. "does that fit to your standards, princess"

you have to work very hard to feign indifference, like you weren't just drooling over him like some- "m' not one of your groupies, ren", you scoff, "don't know why you care what i think about your stupid band"

he lets out a low whistle, eyes glinting at you, "so cold" he says, reaching forward to tug on a loose strand of your hair, "you were kinda looking like you wanted to be one of my groupies for a sec there", he teases, "coulda sworn i saw you clench your thighs. something you wanna confess?"

"If i was clenching anything," you huff, "it was my pearls, because you sound awful." he didn't. you know that, and he knows that, and if by the way he just grins at you says anything, he knows you're lying out of your ass right now, like he always does.

he tilts his head at you, "go on n tell me more lies, angel," he challenges, "it'll make everything so much better"

"It'll make what, better, jaeger?"

"when you finally crawl in my bed," he says casually, like its a fact waiting to happen, "I'll be sure to remember all that runnin' your smart mouth did"

#ask #sukuna thirst anon #SORRY I TOOK THIS AND RAN #IM BARKING #bully!eren #but also #band!eren #>>>new tag #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader

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verydedaccount · 3 years

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ok but like- au where Ranboo decides to become exiled along side Tommy?

(TW: BRIEF MENTION OF SUICIDE AND SELF HARM)

so in the au, after Ranboo’s speech about Tommy not being selfish, Tubbo still decides to exile Tommy. Tommy is crushed but before Tubbo tells Dream to escort him out of L’manburg, Ranboo stands between the two and just says “if you’re exiling him, your exiling me too. L’Manburg isn’t L’Manburg without Tommy. So exile me too.” and Tubbo, fed up with Ranboo defending Tommy, just says “FINE THEN! Dream, escort BOTH of them out of my country” and so Dream does.

(TW: BRIEF MENTION OF SUICIDE AND SELF HARM AHEAD)

So the days go by and the going gets harder for Tommy, its just him and Ranboo with Dream and Ghostbur as their only visitors. Tommy feels like it was his fault that Ranboo got exiled, despite Ranboo telling him that it wasn’t. Eventually, after a while of harming himself and wanting death, Tommy decides to go through with it, but Ranboo catches on and everything clicks. Dream was one of two visitors not because he was a friend but because he was pretty much a warden.

So Ranboo tells Tommy this and convinces him to go with him, far, far away from where Dream could reasonably reach. Tommy is half convinced and goes with Ranboo’s plan and the two run so far that they reach Techno’s house. Cold and exhausted, Ranboo and Tommy dig into Techno’s basement floor and make themselves a room, complete with two beds and chests!

After about a week, Tommy began to flourish again... aaaaand Techno found them... whoops! Ranboo, who is pretty much Tommy’s body guard and sole friend, immediately defends Tommy and explains to Techno what happened. Techno-blade becomes Techno-soft and takes pity on both Ranboo and Tommy, even letting them keep their room and promising the two of them that, no matter what happens between them, that there will always be a place there for them.

however! Things... fall apart after they blow up L’Manburg. But this time, instead of Dream giving a speech, Tommy gives a speech. He’s yelling with tears on his face and finally says “I RELEASED A WITHER WITH YOU! I NEVER SAID YOU WERE WRONG! I JUST- JUST DIDN’T WANT A SECOND WILBUR!” and everyone goes silent, the only sounds being Tommy’s heavy breathing. After a second Tommy pulls himself together and backs up and says “do what you WANT Blade, but this is my home. So I’m siding with Tubbo.” And Ranboo, who knows Tommy is right, doesn’t say anything but rather just stands next to Tommy in silence.

AND THAT’S IT! Sorry for being gone for so long! I’m currently at my Nana’s house (grandmother) and I’m just relaxing but writers brain go BRRRR- so here ya go!

#dream smp #dream smp au #tommyinnit #ranboo #tubbo #tommyinnit and tubbo #bench trio #allium duo #au #technoblade #dream smp techno

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roseytoesy · 3 years

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I got really inspired by this little chat conversation looked at today!

Made my vore brain go brrrr.

It had been an interesting day constantly being moved around the school to do different tasks for the brothers and even mammon demanding she skip a quiz due to him forgetting about it. She sighed out in the garden in a rare moment of peace when her phone made a small dinner bell ring, telling her that the gluttonous 6th born had texted her.

She moved from her position in the garden and through the backdoor and turning into the kitchen, she sent a reply to him and as he mentioned hide and seek she suddenly felt very playful. It had been a boring day class wise and it would be fun to play such a childish game with her favorite of the brothers.

She quickly looked around for a place to hide. The cabinets would be to obvious due to her scent being easily trackable and its cliché. Rose always liked finding unusual hiding sports so she turned around and looked some more. The oven was a tempting idea, but that was a dangerous one due to someone waltzing in and turning it on and roasting her alive. In all honestly she would be fine for a few minutes with the ring of protection’s power but her anxiety told her a firm no.

She could hear someone walking her way chatting with someone else but that caused her to panic and turn around one more time toward the fridge. It would have to do. She threw open the door and wiggled in and found out that the fridge was larger on the inside. She was surprised even though it made sense seeing as they never seemed to run out of room in the fridge, but she just thought that was from how often it was cleaned out by Beel.

She moved behind some large boxes labeled with different large assortments of meat and giggled, thinking about how quickly that meat disappears in just one day. She waited tensely for a few minutes, but couldn't hear or see anything outside the fridge due to the door being closed.

After about 10 minutes in the fridge she was really cold, the fringed air seeping into her skin and causing her to shiver. She pulled out her phone to ask where Beel was and if they were still paying the game. He happily said yes saying he searched her room and his own room and now he was heading elsewhere to find her. Her heart felt warm as she realized that his favorite room was hers! it made her wiggle with happiness.

But then again she was getting really cold and was now just wanting a moment out of the fridge, hopefully Beel wouldn't walk in on her climbing out but her hands were starting to get numb and she hated the cold so much. Why did she think this was a good idea?

she moved back toward the front of the fridge and pushed against the door. It didn’t budge. She tried again pushing as hard as she could but it didn’t work again. Her eyes widened in a bit of a panic. She started to shiver more violently, not just from the cold now seeped into her bones, but because of fear. since this was a mild temperature difference the ring didn’t see a need to protect her, but if she stayed in here she would get sick! or worse hypothermia! the brothers wouldn’t even know! could someone die if they were stuck in a fridge? oh no, oh no,

Her mind raced with anxiety and her breathing became panicked and short, she didn’t have a lot of room to crawl around in! she had to army crawl on the lower shelf she was on and the close proximity to everything was making her feel small and claustrophobic. She looked forward a the door and gave one last shove at it hoping that somehow this weaker shove would release her to safety.

Good news is that it did! Beel was opening the door just as she shoved at it and tumbled out into his arms. His eyes widened as he looked down at her shivering and cold form. “Rose? Why were in the fridge? Are you ok? Rose?” he asked her his questions falling on deaf ears as she clung to him and the warmth he always exuded. It was welcoming and now that adrenaline and panic weren't causing her thoughts to race, she finally heard him.

“Oo-oh b-be-eel. I-I was h-h-hiding in th-the fridge and I-I got stuck.” she said, her teeth chattering so bad it made her vision shake as she looked up at him. He closed the fridge and pulled her close as he sat on a wooden chair next to the oven usually used for when the others didn’t want to stand and wait for something to finish cooling or cooking. He pulled her close as she moved closer to him as she rested against his chest.

“Rose, why did you do that?” he asked quietly.

“I-I thought i-i-it would b-b-b-ugh! I thought it was going to be f-fun.” she said angry at her shivering and chattering teeth. she looked away, ashamed at how badly her idea went. He gently held her chin and guided her face to look at him.

“Its ok Rose, I thought you knew about the sealing lock. sometimes the best ingredients we’ve had in the past were still alive...” he trailed off probably remembering a meal that he prepared from such a scenario.

“O-oh.” she said. “At least I'm ok. guess ill just hide in the cabinets next time.” she tried to joke. He hummed as he held her a little closer due to a violent set of shivers going through her. Beel may not know much about humans b he knew this wasn’t normal and even for demons being to cold can mean getting sick. So he tried to think of a way to help the poor woman in his arms as she sniveled, her nose now running from her body’s attempt to heat itself up again.

Suddenly an idea crossed his mind as his stomach rumbled right next to the cold human. he looked at her, “Rose you need to get warm soon, and i think I can help.” she looked up at him showing she was listening, she was getting tired due to how cold she was. “Would it be ok if I ate you and warmed you up that way?” he asked her looking down into her eyes with a pleading set of purple ones. his stomach growled again and he mumbled to himself.

She heard his mumbling “you are also really tasty and I'm hungry...”

she sighed a small laugh at how considerate he was for her safety and consent in such situations. She nodded as she snuggled a little closer in his hug. “I think that sounds great Beel, thank you.” she said. His eyes light up like the sky as the sun rose. He tightened his hug around her again before gently holding her arms to her sides and sliding her head into his mouth.

She sighed as the warmth of his saliva and breath washed over her. her shivering already starting to calm as he tasted her head and neck. She giggled tiredly as his tongue tickled her neck with its rougher than normal texture. He started to gently purr around her at the wonderful fruity and sweet flavor he always enjoyed when they this. He pushed her up and into his mouth as he swallowed, his muscles easily pulling her deeper into his strong and warm body. He quickly licked her upper body and drank in her flavor and felt just how cold her bare arms were. It felt like a fruit popsicle as he licked some of the cold out of the limbs. His stomach growled and he swallowed again. His stomach was grumbling quite loudly, demanding to be filled immediately with the human he was savoring a the moment.

He tilted his head back as he swallowed again now only her legs hung out of his mouth limply as she didn’t have the energy to even try to hold them up in the air. He hummed a bit worriedly at how still Rose had been during the whole process, so he quickly swallowed down her legs not really caring about licking them as they went down his strong esophagus. Once she was completely in his stomach it gurgled happily as he took a few breaths. she didn’t move as she was curled upside down within his core.

“Rose are you ok?” He asked as he gently rubbed at her form. Rose was still as her mind was foggy with the warmth the surrounded her. She was already tired from before and now with the heat she was on the verge of falling asleep as she sat there curled up. Beel called out to her again and pushed on her and somewhat shook her out of her haze. she started to move slowly to get upright.

“Y-ya! Beel I'm ok.” she yawned. as she only made it to her side before her body refused to move anymore. “Sorry, I....’m just really tired. but I’m feeling better at least.” she mumbled the last bit as she snuggled into the folds she rested against. He sighed in relief thinking that she had been hurt or in worse condition than he thought. He relaxed in the chair as he rubbed the large bulge that sat in his lap as she fell asleep. He didn’t mind that she did. By the sound of it she needed the rest anyway. He smiled happily at the warmth he could feel her regaining and the warmth in his heart at being allowed to help her in this way.

His hunger was satisfied for the moment and he got to play some hide and seek with Rose. Hopefully if they do play again Rose wont try to hide in such a cold and unusual spot. He focused on her for the next few minutes and just as he got up to head to the privacy of his room to enjoy her presence some more, he looked up and froze when he saw Belphegor standing against the doorway watching him.

Beel flushed as he subconsciously tried to cover the large bulge on his middle that rose was resting in. As Beel opened his mouth to ask Belphegor what was up, but his twin beat him to talking. “Beel, you know we aren’t supposed to do that outside our rooms, not after lucifer almost caught you and Rose doing that when Diavolo was over.” Beel looked away his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Belphegor chuckled as he handed Beel his cow pillow to help cover his middle as he guided his larger twin to their room.

“thank you Belphe.” Beel mumbled as he was led down the hall. Once they entered the room he was dragged over to Belphegor's bed and lay back against a pile of other pillows as Belphegor grabbed a blanket and his cow pillow back. He hopped in bed next to his twin and made himself comfortable resting against Beel’s bulging belly. Beel flushed again and his twin teasingly looked at him before cuddling close to both his twin the their human the rested just under Beel's skin.

“I don’t mind, just as long as I get to nap as well.” Belphegor mumbled as he fell asleep with his arms gently wrapped around Beel’s middle. Beel smiled again as he patted his sleeping twins head and drifted of as well, being with the two people he loved most.

#Obey me #my writing #soft vore #safe vore #shall we vore #my stuff #Hey im back!#heres a little story i got inspired by!#not my best writing but I gave it my best shot!#please send in any other ideas you have!#feedback is always apreciated!#hope you like it

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romancemoved · 3 years

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tbh lately...

i’ve been thinking of flat out deleting this blog and remaking vi a complete deltarune / undertale oc since those verses are pretty fun and i am just not having a good time here. the way vi gets villainized for being mentally ill in a way that isnt uwu Cute Smol Bean doesnt go beyond me and i notice it. all the time lgkjkldf. if he werent southeast asian and were white straight up it’d probably be a lot more different and he wouldnt have to defend himself left and right. and yeah sure maybe it isnt that deep

but when you notice how white male muses get asspats and coddling then its hard to ignore

anyway vidya game verse go brrrr cuz everyone else around him is a monster anyway and irl fc people r wild

... thats the bottom line cuz stone cold said so i guess :/

#( 🌙 OOC! RULER OF THE VOLCANIC DIAMOND PLANET. ✨ )#/ hes cranky because hes been getting treated like this since like. 2017.#/ and now im cranky because im tired of it. -_-

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fallingappleshurt · 3 years

Text

At least I’d be of use

Me posting actual writing two days in a row?? Yeah don’t expect this ever again

This is a sadish Drabble I did and it’s just brrrr and reallly bad and BRBRBRBRRBRBR

This takes place in my DFF AU, it’s spunky and I wanted to write Ansgt ya know even if I’m bad at it

Anyways here we go, also this is half inspired by the song Boreas by The Oh Hellos

At least I’d be of use

Tommy was laying on the floor, neglecting his homework. He knew that he should at least start on it but he couldn’t focus, everything was distracting him today, the mice in the alley, the neighbors fighting above them, the chilly wind that pierced through his thin jacket and uniform.

He was racking his brain for ideas, any ideas, he wanted to do something useful, help out in some way. Grumbling to himself, homework didn’t help out the family but for some reason he still had to do it.

In another attempt he rolled over and opened his backpack, pulling out the math worksheet, the numbers and symbols swirled and scrambled around in his brain. Why did he have to learn this? It won’t help him in real life, neither Wilbur or Techno knew super complicated reading or math or science or anything like that and they were okay- Phil even admitted that he didn’t use that stuff in his job and he was a doctor! If he didn’t need that kind of math as a doctor then why did Tommy need it?

Then he finally had an idea.He pushed the paper away and sat up,Wilbur and Phil were still out but Techno was sitting on the couch, reading a book, at least he was when Tommy got home.

Stepping out of his and Wilbur’s room, Tommy jumped on the couch next to Techno, who’s eyes flickered up briefly.

“Teach me how to fight.” Tommy said, sitting on his knees, Techno didn’t even look up.

“No. You’re a child.”

“I’m serious, I want to learn how to fight so I can do those duels like you do.” Tommy said, staring at Techno. Techno closed his book and looked Tommy in the eyes, “How do you know about those?”

“I’m just incredibly observant,” Tommy said, almost matter-of-factly, Techno raised an eyebrow, staring him down.

“I figured out bits and pieces and then bugged Wilbur until he slipped up,” He confessed, not ashamedly, Techno sighed and rubbed his temples, he stayed like that for a few moments, considering his options.

“I’m not teaching you how to fight-”

“Come on!” He just wanted to help out.

“Let me finish, I’ll show you self defense tactics and self defense tactics only, under a few conditions; you cannot tell anyone about the duels, under any circumstances-”

“Why?” Tommy interrupted, Techno groaned, “Come on! Tell me or I’ll tell Tubbo!”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Techno said sharply, he paused, voice softening, “You can’t tell anyone about them because,” he licked his lips nervously, “They are technically illegal.”

“Oh,” Tommy deflated slightly, he chuckled lightly, then laughed a little louder, “Oh, Oh! They are illegal! I thought you were gonna say something about murder!”

“I’m ignoring that,” Techno said, “Listen, you cannot tell anyone about the duels and don’t go around showing off the defense moves, they are strictly for defense only-”

“What if I show them off anyways?” Tommy teased, biting his tongue through a grin, Techno rolled his eyes fondly.

“Then you better be ready to use them,” He cracked his knuckles, Tommy laughed nervously, he would never admit it but he found Techno to be a little scary. Red eyes, lean muscles, and scars that he never explained, Tommy knew he could do some serious damage and he hadn’t even seen him fight! Subconsciously Tommy also knew that Techno was a big nerd that got invested in weird books and cheesy radio shows but it took awhile to get to know that side of him.

The anxiety and frustration started seeping back into his skin, searing and shrinking it until it felt like he couldn’t breath.

“I want to go to the duels-”

“Absolutely not, the crowd is no place for a kid-”

“No, I want to fight in the duels, for money, like you do, I’m serious.” Techno looked at him and Tommy stared him down, mouth in a thin line.

“No.” Techno said firmly, red eyes piercing Tommy’s pale blue. Tommy’s chest felt tight.

“Come on Techno, school is useless, I could actually help out by doing them, it’d be better for everyone-”

“You can help out by staying in school,” Techno cut him off, “Enjoy your childhood, hang out with Tubbo, play, do whatever kids do, don’t worry about it, we’re doing just fine.” Techno waved his hand dismissively, opening his book back up.

Frustration wrapped its thick tendrils around his throat and made him want to scream, he wanted to blow up and yell and pull out his hair. They weren’t fine, he wasn’t stupid, he heard his older brothers talking in hushed desprate whispers. He had seen Phil sitting at the table late at night, papers scattered everywhere with his hands in his hair, trying to see if they could float another bill or if they could find cheaper options for dinner.

He saw the smaller portions the others had while his portions had gotten bigger, Techno claimed to not be hungry, Wilbur said he didn’t like the food, Phil just smiled and told him to eat it. He was growing, they said, he needed it.

Tommy felt like such a drain, going to school cost money, his uniform and books and bag cost money, everything he did cost money.

Money they didn’t have.

His chest hurt everytime he got something he could do without, like new shoes, the old ones had some holes and were scuffed but they worked just fine, he didn’t really need the new ones.

He was scared they’d get kicked out of their shitty apartment, scared everything they’d worked for would be gone, scared that one duel would go to far and Techno wouldn’t come home, that Wilbur would disappear like his parents did, that Phil wouldn’t take a break until he broke.

He feared they’d resent him.

All of the extra food and money spent on someone who made their lives more difficult,someone someone who didn’t help provide, on someone who drained their time with stupid questions and ideas, Someone who could barely pass his math class, someone like him.

He desperately wanted to feel useful, all his brothers provided something, Techno did the duels and chores, Phil was a doctor and got consistent pay and Wilbur had random odd jobs of some sort while Tommy did nothing.

He was a drain of resources.

But he couldn’t tell Techno that, he couldn’t tell any of them. He couldn’t speak or everything would burst out of him, instead he turned and went back to his room, going back to laying on the floor.

He put his math work back in his backpack.

Tommy was quiet for the rest of the night, only saying a few things about school at dinner, Phil tried to ask him about his day in a ditch effort to get him to talk but came up empty handed.

After dinner Tommy climbed the rusty latter on the side of their apartment building, then, jamming his feet in the grooves and cracks of the wall, just like he’d seen Phil do, he hosed himself onto the roof.

Standing on the cold brick he looked at the clear night sky. The moon was big and bright, casting icy light over the land, the wind was blowing so hard it threatened to knock him over so he sat down.

He wrapped his arms around himself, he wasn’t wearing a jacket. Suddenly his chest burned and everything came crashing down. Hot tears boiled in his eyes, stinging against the frigid wind.

He wanted to be useful, to help and provide for his brothers like they did him, he wanted Phil to be able to take a break, for Wilbur to have a better guitar, for Techno to not fight-

He wanted to not be a burden.

He burdened the people that had no reason to take him in, they’d resent him eventually, he knew it, and that thought alone caused him to choke on a sob.

He just wanted to be of use.

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yokelish · 4 years

Text

Worth millions.

Remember that? Back by popular demand. Reworked, improved, but only miserly so. And with chapter two coming soon~

✏ Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs ✏ Characters: Nakahara Chūya, Dazai Osamu ✏ Word count: 3,650 ✏ Warnings: swearing, smoking. ✏ Part I; Part II

Worth millions.

Chūya narrowed his eyes at the figure near on the pier. It was close to midnight and no sane or law-abiding citizen would wonder around those docks alone. He did not expect a fight tonight but would be willing if it come to that. It was, after all, his mess to deal with. And whoever was standing in the way would be crashed by gravity. Chūya took a minute to observe what the person on the pier was doing. If it was some vagabond scaring them away wouldn’t be an issue. At first glance it seemed the figure wondered around the pier aimlessly — looking around to satisfy their curiosity or satiate the desire to observe small beauty of the world, —but only at first. Nakahara didn’t have to waste another minute to understand the person on the pier was looking for clues, evidence. And that was Chūya’s job. Then, it wasn’t a simple-minded wanderer or a drunk wondering in the moonless night. This person had a purpose to be here.

“You better know how to swim,” Nakahara said with a dangerous cadence. With his silhouette shrouded in darkness, he knew and meant the danger emitted. There was no escape from the pier unless they wanted to swim. Or face him. He had no issues with either option.

“Shiiiiit,” the voice uncertain echoed. “I’m taking too long.”

Chūya smirked and moved closer, slowly, biding his time. There was no need to be hasty with this interesting encounter. It was rare for something interesting happening on the job in the dead of the night. Someone else was here with the same purpose. It couldn’t be boring. But he wasn’t planning to let them go. If they were a part of those thugs that dared to challenge Port Mafia, there was only one way out for them.

“Port Mafia, right?” the voice asked, refusing to move, standing their ground. Intimidation was only present in their voice, and Chūya wondered if he was carefully toyed with. Pretending to be frightened before making a move.

The stranger raised their hands in surrender. “I am not looking for a fight,” they continued talking to him confident that they were listened to. The pier wasn’t enough for the two of them. Nakahara came closer, close enough to recognize their features in the moonless dark.

“That’s unfortunate,” Chūya said, smirking. “I might be.”

The person didn’t say anything, didn’t back away from him or step close as if kept there by stubbornness, ignorance, or blind bravery. Instead, they reached inside their pocket. And if this stranger thought a gun could scare Port Mafia, they were both wrong and stupid. A figure dressed in black and wrapped in deep-red glow, For the Tainted Sorrow. Suddenly, the dark space between them brightened. It wasn’t a gun they were reaching for but a torchlight. The light was aimed at the sky enlightening them about this encounter. They didn’t even use it to blind the mafioso and make a run for it. Even more stupid than he gave them credit for.

“Well, damn,” they said with a bright and irritatingly unafraid smile on their face. “Nakahara Chūya, the gravity-manipulator and martial artist. I am not buying lottery tickets this month.”

Chūya tilted his head in question. A very well-informed enemy or… simpleton Dazai never failed to open his big mouth. “Dear Detective Agency,” he sighed with irritation. “Suicidal moron can’t shut up about me.”

“That’s where you’re right,” they confirmed, straightforward and facile.

“What do you want?” Nakahara asked, crossing his arms. The Agency was an enemy; however, fighting them here and now would do nothing for the greater conflict. Boss, too, proclaimed temporary ceasefire. Acting against Boss’ orders was equal to betrayal. Also, they didn’t look like a challenge or threat in any way with that too eager to please and appease attitude.

“Just looking for something stolen,” they replied, nonchalant. “My guess is that you are here for the same reason.” This openness of theirs was getting on mafioso’s nerves. He wasn’t known for a patient temper. The Agency member could have tried to dance around his questions, run or offer a trade-off. But it seemed like they were trying to work out some semblance of functional cooperation. As long as it went within the lines of his loyalty to Port Mafia, he could match this pace.

The smile grew on their face before they turned off the light. It was bright.

“We can help each other!” Agency’s detective offered in a chirpy manner.

“Can we now?” Chūya scoffed, amused. “Just say you need my help.”

“I don’t,” they shook their head. It wasn’t spoken in mockery or false confidence. While the darkness blurred their features, he still heard the smile on their lips. “But you need mine.”

Nakahara raised a brow, antagonized. Dazai must have been giving out lessons. Bandaged freak had an unmatched skill, but they were gravelling him fairly fast too. Chūya didn’t need help, especially from a detective of the Agency. Nakahara was a Port Mafia Executive; he was the merge of a human and a god Arahabaki. Help was the last thing he needed. He expected them to prove the point, but his patience was running dangerously thin each second.

“The smugglers,” the person started talking quickly as if sensing the heat, “didn’t finish their transaction. What did they do with the merchandise? It’s a pier. Not many places to hide things.”

“If they had half-a-brain, an airtight aluminum case would take a day or two underwater,” Chūya shrugged.

“I bet you don’t want to swim tonight, it’s cold, brrrr,” they rubbed their shoulders, mimicking the experience. “So, I will graciously save you from that.”

Mafioso crossed arms on his chest and smirked. There was no way of impressing him, less so of doing him any favours. But he was allowing for this to happen simply because it was quite fun. It didn’t last long, however. Soon, the sound of moving water filled the dark and silence around them. And something rectangular came from the water and floated into their hands effortlessly. It was the case, unmistakably, it couldn’t be anything else.

“I can beckon objects towards myself if I know what they are,” they succinctly explained. “Since I know yours, it’s fair that you know mine.”

Chūya didn’t ask but was given an answer. Perhaps, by some strange morality it was fairer for him to know their ability since they knew about his. But this wasn’t the world that cared about fairness. They were coming from two different worlds, opposing views. They were enemies. It wasn’t personal. From the wrong side, one of them for sure was, had to be. Yet the Agency’s detective continued with the task as if nothing were amiss. Chūya watched them take out a lock-picker’s set. He chuckled, amused. All that talk about morality…

“You are probably here for the valuables,” they continued to talk, unbothered, while trying to pick the lock. “Allow me take one thing. Our client has sentimental value attached to one of the objects inside.”

“They stole more than just valuables,” Nakahara replied. Wittingly or not, he almost said more than needed. Chūya had to hold his tongue from saying anything more. Speaking more than needed would be more than just unwise.

“Ah, is that an invitation to take everything else but what you need?”

“No.”

“Kidding, kidding.”

The case opened with a distinct click. A sound of a skilful lock-picking. From the Armed Detective Agency, indeed. But, true to their word, only one thing was taken. Nakahara had no clue why that would be an object of sentimental value, however, but Lady Luck was on their side. He didn’t need that.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” they said, standing up, and offering a polite and reserved smile.

“That’s it?” mafioso asked, unimpressed. There were a few things he could imagine being spoken, tastefully mixed into the conversation, to make a little sharper, a little more dangerous. “Nothing else to add, dear Detective Agency?”

“Gimme a sec.” There was a theatrical pause perfectly executed. Acting worthy of the effect it produced, with a finger to tier mouth and a thoughtful expression on their face. “Oh, no, Port Mafia! How could you! That’s not right, Port Mafia!”

Chūya shook his head. It was amusing it its twisted, overly dramatic way, but the comedy was too close to reality to be truly funny.

Their act was quickly dropped, switched for a more serious expression and tone. “You could have thrown me into the water the moment you saw me or a moment after when you realized who I was. But you didn’t. And agreed to cooperate.”

“That’s—”

“Hm?”

“Never mind,” Nakahara dismissed the protest. For one, defending his perfectly logical actions seemed foolish. Second, and most importantly, there was no need for him to voice it and neither it seemed to be heard. If that’s gratitude they were offering — to hell with it.

“Scatter,” Chūya commanded in slight jest. “I have work to do.”

The detective bowed to him in jest, most graciously bowing out of their encounter. He let them go and afterwards sighed. There was much a lot of work left to do.

One would safely and reasonably assume this one chance of an encounter was the only time he’d meet someone from the Agency outside of conflict. It wasn’t so. Sometime later he got to see them again. It wasn’t anything related to a job and happened in the light of day. He saw them with jinko and young murderess approaching the local shopping centre. At the entrance, however, they stopped and waved goodbye. The kids proceeded on their own inside. That would have been it: Chūya saw them, they didn’t see him. Such was his conviction, until they waved at him. From afar, sure, and it could have been anyone else who was in his general direction. But somehow, he had a feeling it was aimed at him and no one else. He didn’t acknowledge them in any way.

“C’mon out anyone who’s still alive,” he grinned maliciously into the camera. Chūya was having a bit too much enjoyment with this. After all, it was about time he’d get to play cat and mouse with the Agency. Ceasefire wasn’t much fun.

In the dark tunnel, finally echoed footsteps other than his. Playing the messenger was a boring beat, but a brawl wasn’t completely out of the question, ever.

“Just two of you? What an insult,” Chūya sighed. Just two enemies and not even the most intriguing ones. It all unfolded just the Boss’ predicted. The Agency cannot help itself but to be predictable this way. A confrontation was started to make the blood run hotter. He wasn’t a good match for a messenger job anyway. Everything was working out splendidly. Except for when the voice came from the speakers. The voice belonged to an enemy, the other side that Port Mafia will never reconcile with. He knew the voice — knew exactly who it belonged to — but still hearing it here and now was somewhat unexpected. Something he couldn’t even explain to himself.

“President, with all due respect, I’d like to say something,” came from the speakers. Nakahara stilled the moment he heard it coming from the speakers, he wanted to hear everything.

“I believe in the Agency’s strength just as much as you do, you know it. But we cannot take on the Guild alone. There’s one thing Nakahara was right about: we are short staffed,” the voice on the other side spoke with underlined worry. Mafioso wondered how it felt to speak rather defensively of your enemy. What he’d like to know even more is why even speak in defence of an enemy. But since it was serving Port Mafia’s purpose…

“But if you think such crude tactics would work on us, then Mafia is unfit for waging war,” the President’s voice spoke.

“Veiled threat from the enemy leader himself? Such an honour,” Chūya mocked.

“What are you hiding?”

“Not a thing.”

“He is not lying,” familiar voice interfered. The gravity wielder grinned devilishly. He wasn’t lying, they were correct in that assessment. But it was no good news for them. A shame, truly. For them. So bravely and insistently speak in the enemy’s support. That was the luxury or stupidity few could afford. He couldn’t.

“Why would we need to move?” Nakahara asked with the same smile on his face.

“Alright, fancy hat,” another voice spoke up. And then there was a snicker. Chūya never heard them snicker before but had no doubts it was them. Otherwise, it was the enemy leader and that was a far less appealing thought. Fancy hat?

It wasn’t because he had any doubts about Boss’ plan or because he didn’t trust in the abilities of his fellow comrades. It was because he hated Dazai. Because he wanted to see what was going to happen, what that schemer had pulled this time. And because deep inside Nakahara already knew what sort of deal the Boss would make given the chance. Mori wanted Dazai back in the Mafia, and while Chūya was perfectly content without the failed suicide around, it wasn’t for him to say so. Whatever cliché game he was asked to play, he’d play it till the end.

From up here he could witness the whole thing and, if something were to go terribly wrong, he’d be down there in seconds. But he had unwavering faith in Boss’ planning. Still, the cigarette in his mouth was burning. It was boredom. From up here, he could see everything but not hear it or be entertained by any other means. One, two, three, four…Number four is deadly, according to superstitions.

“Fancy seeing you here!” said the voice from behind. Familiar voice, sure, but it was not supposed to be heard here. Chūya turned his head. That very same detective of the Agency coming to him at such convenient time? It couldn’t be a coincidence. What a cliché, Dazai, especially for you.

A huff, a puff. The cigarette started to taste a lot better now. “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t a question but a warning.

“Don’t worry, no one knows I am here. If you throw me off this roof, it’s a perfect crime,” they quickly assured. And while there was a small laugh at the end of that sentence, he could hear it was filled with anxious tension. “I wasn’t invited for the meeting either but still came to watch. It’s not as concealed up here as you’d think.”

Mafioso kept quiet, feeling annoyed, feeling played for a fool. But before the right words to scare them off came to mind, the voice spoke once again.

“Here,” there was a nudge on his shoulder, “it’s a far better thing to put in your mouth.”

Nakahara looked at what was offered. Goddamn ice-cream? He raised a brow in question. This was more than just a little strange. This was getting a little ridiculous. And the idea of throwing them off the roof didn’t seem as alien as before. Nonetheless, under his murderous gaze, they didn’t relent, continuing to hold up the ice-cream in stubborn generosity.

He had to look away from them. “Damn it.” Agitated, he still begrudgingly put out the cigarette and accepted the ice-cream. The packaging wasn’t messed with, with drops of water from being in the freezer just recently. They, too, had one. An ice-cream for themselves with the packaging matching. Mafioso tore it open. Damnit. It was cold and sweet, vanilla flavour hidden underneath dark chocolate.

“See? I was right. It is a better thing to put in your mouth,” they grinned at him. Not malicious, not mocking, it was a cheerful, kind smile of a friend. They were enemies, people from different sides, fighting for different things. Reconciliation was not an acceptance — a strategy.

“Choose your words better,” Nakahara scoffed.

“Sorry, sor—"

“Or I will throw you off the roof.”

“I said sorry. So, um, what do you think? It’s going fine, right? Even if it’s just to defeat the Guild, we can come to an agreement of sorts? You’d help, right?”

“What are you getting at?”

“I am… worried.”

“About?” he asked without any interest whatsoever. But since this was a conversation — a very used play at social norms and small talk — he would indulge them only for the duration of this ice-cream. A shame to let a good thing go to waste.

“My…comrades,” the enemy answered. That was a delicate answer. Too delicate for such situation. Even Chūya could understand the worry one would have for one’s friends and comrades. Yet something didn’t sit right with him as if a gut feeling telling something he couldn’t yet understand.

“So, if you are fighting alongside one of them, would you help them?” they asked. It sounded so naïve and genuine. Terribly sweet, just like this ice-cream. Underneath the dark chocolate, something awfully sweet and innocent white in colour.

“Is that what their life if worth?” Chūya asked, thoroughly amused. Quite a conversation maker this one. “An ice-cream?”

“Nah, a life is invaluable. And smoking kills. Take care of yourself.”

Chūya laughed. Loudly, thunderously, profoundly regaled. He was pillorying them and their ideas. But, still a nudge on his shoulder, playful in its manner.

“I am counting on you, Nakahara Chūya!”

This was getting too ridiculous for Nakahara to comprehend as a sane person. “Scatter.” He didn’t even mean it maliciously or as a sincere threat. It was a reminiscent jest. And like before, they bowed to him and offered a polite smile, graciously leaving the situation.

Chūya hated Dazai. He hated all the faces Dazai had: arrogant kid, suicidal failure, scheming bastard, traitor, liar, and womanizer. It wasn’t even all the list of masks his ex-partner had. But Chūya would take out the trash once they were done here. The reunion was a temporary arrangement. After, he would be free to deal with Dazai as he wished. What else he hated? The number of body bags his people came back in. All at the fault of a child whose ability was abhorrent.

“Do it,” Chūya said with certainty. He would remember that number for a good while after this is all over and is but a history.

“Oh yeah?” Dazai sounded too chirpy for himself. “Well, in that case…” The knife Dazai conveniently snitched slashed the wooden cage Q was trapped in. Nakahara watched, and the mafia-black blood boiled inside him.

“Your hypocrisy makes me want to vomit,” he stated with sincere spite. The knife stopped chipping at wood as Dazai started to explain such hypocritical act. Excuses, excuses, that was the core of this traitor. Chūya knew for a fact what his ex-partner thought of Q’s ability. What a pathetic, lying bastard.

“It’s a logical decision,” Dazai excused his actions. “Plus, I don’t know how I would look them in the eye.”

“The Agency?” Nakahara shrugged, uninterested.

“Aren’t you curious, Chūya?” It was taunting. “Nosy about my personal life?”

“Personal life? You don’t have such a thing, womanizer.”

“People change, Chūya,” Dazai replied with a sickeningly familiar smile. The bastard meant what he said. Gravity manipulator hated him all the more for it.

Nakahara crossed his arms. “People? Maybe. What do you have to do with them?”

His ex-partner pretentiously pouted. “You know, Chūya, I know your moves down to pacing and breathing.” Dazai stood up. The knife remained plunged into the wood. “But I never knew you liked ice-cream.”

“Bastard, I knew it was your scheme!”

“What? No.” Ex-mafia shook his head. “What would be in it for me? But relationships are built on trust and honesty. So, naturally, I came to know of it. I was as just as surprised as you were.”

That sickening smile, that arrogant tone! Chūya had Dazai pinned down as well. The assortment of face masks of his once-partner…and the appalling pleasure to study them all. But the most abhorrent thing was that the hypocrite wasn’t lying. The bandaged bastard was taking pleasure in speaking the truth.

Dazai was slowly shortening the distance between them. “So, why did you behave like an obedient dog, Chūya?” The languid steps forward, putting them dangerously close together. The shorter mafioso pressed his fingers into a tight fist. The leather gloves squeaked.

“Answer me, Chūya, for old times’ sake,” Dazai continued to provoke. “I don’t think it’s because of ice-cream, was it? Could it be…? Oh.”

You are on thin fucking ice, Dazai. It wasn’t for any other reason than killing time. It wasn’t because he found them strangely intriguing in their passive acceptance of him being from Mafia. And it wasn’t because they spoke in his defence. To speak in your enemy’s benefit was the luxury or stupidity few could afford. He wasn’t impressed by their stubborn kindness despite knowing that he was stronger than them. That he could kill them. That he was an enemy.

“You never could hide your emotions, Chūya. Your face does say it for you,” Dazai was now grinning viciously. “You like them, don’t you? You like them.”

Chūya pushed forward, angry, provoked, with all the spite he could muster. The fist landed hard. The force of his punch sent Dazai stumbling backwards. But there was glee in those dark eyes. The delight Chūya rarely witnessed, but it wasn’t totally alien. It felt good for him too — to punch Dazai in the face like that. Yet his blood was still boiling hot. And there was a bitter and tight feeling in his throat, tasting of sweet vanilla ice-cream.

“Oh, the look on your face, Chūya,” Dazai mumbled, mocking, gleeful, and seeming to ignore the swelling on his face and the pain that came with it. “How did you say it before? “Better than a masterpiece worth millions”?”

#yokelishtorturesenglish #bsd fanfic #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader x dazai #will it show in the tags a second time?

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vannahfanfics · 2 years

Text

Chain of Memories

Category: Friendship Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Naminé, Riku

Naminé released a sharp gasp of shock and delight as her foot sunk down into the thick snow with a soft crunch, swallowing her foot up to the upper ankle. It was a good thing that she’d exchanged her white dress and sandals for winter gear, but that didn’t stop the chill from seeping through her thick boots to tickle her skin, making goose pimples rise wherever its tiny fingers roamed. More snow continued to drift down from the sky, and the tiny snowflakes settled onto the pale gray fabric of her coat, coating it in feathery little dots. Naminé raised her arm to peer at them, a little cross-eyed with how intently she inspected the minuscule snowflakes. She’d never seen them before, after all, so she wanted to get a close look.

“Glad to see you’re having fun already,” a voice rumbled with laughter behind her, and she turned to see Riku walking down the gangplank of the Gummi ship with an amused smirk dancing on his lips.

“I am!” she said with a blissful nod, then turned around. The picturesque landscape of Arendelle spread out before her, a backdrop of white and silver and clear blue sky. It was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen, and her eyes sparkled while she drank it all in, down to the last icicle. “It’s just so beautiful.”

Ever since she had been given a body, finally free of her chains of being a Nobody that belonged to Organization XIII, Naminé had been capitalizing on all the new experiences that offered her. Before they knew it, winter had come around; though the air in Twilight Town certainly grew chilly and the sky a bleak gray, the climate was still too warm to offer snow. Naminé had admittedly been disappointed, but when she’d discussed it with Riku during one of his visits, he’d offered to spirit her away to the wintery world of Arendelle. So now, here they were, basking in all its wintery, blustery glory.

Still, Riku hadn’t been kidding when he’d warned that it would be much colder than Twilight Town! She shivered when a gale ripped across the clearing, stirring up the snow and blasting snowflakes against her left side. She rubbed her gloved hands over her jacket sleeves while she shivered, and she couldn’t help the surprised “Brrrr!” that accompanied the chatter of her teeth. Riku walked up behind her with a laugh, tightening her scarf around her neck and straightening out the hat that covered her platinum-blonde hair.

“You don’t want to go home yet, do you?” he teased.

“What?” she cried and looked at him incredulously. “No! I can handle a little cold,” she pouted, puffing out her cheeks despite the fact they were pinkening from the continuous blustering of the winter breeze. Riku chuckled again, then reached down to grab her hand.

“Come on. There’s a place I want to show you.”

Naminé blissfully allowed him to tote her across the snow. With every step, the snow made that delightful crunching sound as her weight broke the icy layer at the top and allowed her to sink into the soft, fluffy layer below. It almost felt like she was walking on a sea of clouds. When they came to the ring of leafless trees lining the clearing, she reached out with her free hand to gently touch one of the long, skinny icicles hanging from the dark brown, empty branch. She could feel its cold wetness even through the thing fabric of her glove, and when she flicked it with her index finger, it filled the air with a melodious ringing. Giggling, Naminé tapped the entire row of ice formations and was delighted that each one produced a tune that was slightly different.

Riku paused to allow her time to play, and he watched her with a soft smile. Naminé supposed she ought to be a little embarrassed, having such a child-like fascination with something so simple, but she just couldn’t help it. After spending so much time locked in a room with just four white walls and your imagination, everything new was just so fresh and magical. When she finally looked back at him, it was with a breathless grin.

“Don’t you think they sound so pretty, Riku?”

“Eh? Oh, sure,” he shrugged, but the smile on his face told her that he too was charmed by the melodious quality of the ice. Naminé couldn’t help but chuckle at his continuous attempts to be so nonchalant about everything. Well, with someone as excitable as Sora around all the time, I suppose he has to be calm and collected to balance things out!

“What are you laughing about?” he asked with a smirk tugging at his lips. He reached up to pinch her cheek, and she could feel the squeeze even with the pillowy embrace of his gloves. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Ah!” she cried when he gave her cheek a few good tugs. He didn’t make her answer, just snorted in amusement and resumed carting her through the snow. Naminé rubbed at her cheek, which was now pink for an entirely different reason than the cold, while she smiled brightly. It was always so much fun, exploring something new with something, and Riku was one of the people she found the most fun to be around. She knew that it was in part from his promise to the Riku Replica, but still, it made her happy that he cared so much.

They walked through the trees for a while, rocky mountain slopes slowly beginning to rise around them. The ground was a slight incline as well, but not sharp enough that Naminé felt winded trying to scale it. Every so often, snow-dusted rocks would rise from the sea of snow like breaching whales, and once, Naminé even saw a sleeping snow fox sunning on the gray stone. Its white fur gleamed like threads of diamond, so gorgeous that she had the strong urge to stop and sketch it. Too bad she’d left her sketchbook on the Gummi ship!

“All right. Here we are,” he announced with little fanfare when they passed underneath the edge of the treeline. Naminé, still lamenting the loss of a good drawing, snapped out of her thoughts to follow his gaze. She immediately sucked in an awed breath, for the snowy landscape before paled in comparison to what was before her now.

They stood in another clearing, but this one was surrounded by willow-like trees that glistened with thousands of small, dangling ice crystals. The light refracted over their bluish surfaces as the wind whistled through them, making them dance and glisten like chandelier crystals. In one corner was a frozen-over pond nestled against another rising rocky slope where another one of the willowy trees rested on its crest, its branches reaching over the edge to curtain the rock face. Naminé took a few steps forward, mouth agape as she tried to drink it all in.

“Oh my… Riku… It’s…” She was at a loss for words. Tears began to form in her eyes, and as they slipped down her cheeks, they prickled her skin as they froze. Squeaking, she scrubbed at her face and eyes in an effort to prevent more of them from falling. Instead, they encrusted the fabric of her glove. She heard the snow crunching as Riku walked up beside her, and when he put his hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see him smiling gently.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain it. You’re happy, right?”

Naminé nodded with a little croon, making Riku’s smile widen. His hand slipped off her shoulder as she walked a little ways away to inspect the frozen pond. It reflected the blue of the sky, with the edges encrusted with white ice from its contact with the surrounding snowbank. She tilted her head to the side, wondering what became of the fish living in it when suddenly Riku whistled for her attention. She turned around, mouth open to ask him what he wanted—

Allowing the big fat snowball he lobbed at her to plow right into her mouth. She let out a startled “plbthththth!” while she struggled to spit out the rapidly-melting snow, and over her out suffering, she could hear Riku laughing. Her eyes burned from the sudden cold, and while she blinked away more freezing tears, she could see the blurry form of Riku doubled-over and holding his belly. She wiped the last of the snow from her face with a disgruntled huff and pouted at him.

“I’m sorry,” Riku choked out between cackles. When he looked up at her, there were tears freezing on his silver lashes and painting lines down his bright red cheeks. “I just—I couldn’t help it—” This caused him to snort and then dissolve into another round of laughter, and while Naminé was still a bit miffed to be so cruelly tricked, she supposed it was probably pretty funny from his end. Still, such a slight could not be allowed to pass with revenge—and they always said that revenge was best served cold, right?

Riku tried to get away when he heard Naminé running toward him, but the convulsing laughs wracking his body slowed him down. He let out a yelp when she full-on body-tackled him, splaying her limps out to assault him with all her weight. It knocked him off balance, and down they went, the snow splashing up around them like the foam of the waves crashing on Destiny Islands. Naminé pinned him down so she could grab a handful of snow and shove it in his face, rubbing it in a bit before lording over him triumphantly.

“Ahhhhh,” Riku half-whined, half-laughed, the snow painting his face a cloudy white. He spat it off his lips and blinked it out of his eyes, trying to peer up at her through the blinding cold. “I suppose I deserved that.”

“You sure did! Tricking me like that, how heartless,” she huffed, crossing her arms. However, Naminé’s nature was anything but sweet, and she couldn’t flaunt her victory for long before worrying about him getting too cold lying spread-eagled in the snow. She slipped off of him to kneel by his side, allowing him to sit up. He shook his head to flick the snow from his hair while Naminé dusted off his back, smiling. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Who, me? I’m been freight-trained by Heartless more times than I can count. A dainty little thing like you is not gonna hurt me,” he laughed.

“‘Dainty’?” she cried, half-charmed and half-affronted. Riku just laughed again, dusting the last bits of snow from his shoulders before flopping his arms down in his lap. Naminé adjusted herself beside him, still sitting on her knees, and also rested her hands on her lap. They sat there a moment, enjoying the snow falling from the sky and slowly piling up around them at a rate they couldn’t see.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, and he looked at her curiously. She smiled sweetly, reaching out to take one of his hands in her own. “Thank you for bringing me here today. I really am enjoying it.”

“I’m glad, Naminé,” he smiled back. “I want you to have lots of fun to make up for the things you couldn’t do before. If I can help with that, I’d be happy to.”

Naminé’s smile widened, scrunching up her eyes into little half-moons, as the happiness bubbled up inside her. A lot of things had happened, and sometimes, she still wondered if she was deserving of having a heart and a place in this wide, vast universe. But, then she was reminded about how much everyone cared, how much everyone wanted her to be there. She was but a link in this chain of hearts, but she was just as essential as anyone else, and that made her heart so, so warm—warm enough even to chase away the blustery cold of this winter wonderland, as she sat beside Riku and thought about just how grateful she was for the blessings she’d been given.

She would cherish them forever, no matter how many worlds apart she and her friends were because she knew that no matter what, their hearts would keep them linked in a chain of beautiful, kind memories. This trip to Arendelle was just one of many now in the chain in her heart, and she would keep adding to it, little by little.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#rikunami #kh riku #kh namine #riku #namine

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satan-chillin · 3 years

Text

Hereafter (4/7)

Wei Wuxian is sent off of Cloud Recesses, bade by his fathers to “have fun and make friends” which, now that he thinks about it, sounds like a gross oversimplification of what the next six months away from home will entail.

If he happens to form unlikely connections, start a matchmaking, and gets unwittingly involved in the presently strained political state of the cultivation world, those are just par for the course.

Chasing after one of the famed Twin Jades of Lan, however, is an added bonus.

(Or, WWX was sent to Gusu by his fathers Wen Kexing & Zhou Zishu)

Part 2 of Spirited Away Series. Part 1 here.

Also available in Ao3. Hereafter Chapter 1, 2, 3

❆❆❆

Wei Wuxian stumbled, sputtered, and shivered—exactly in that order.

“Lan Zhan, are you alright?!”

The question was apparently unnecessary seeing as Lan Zhan was already standing, unfazed as if they hadn’t been dragged into some—Wei Wuxian’s eyes darted wildly everywhere to take a stock of the white rocky walls—cave underneath a cold spring.

He hauled himself steadily on his feet amidst his heavily drenched clothes weighing him down to the fortunately shallow (but fucking cold brrrr) water. Resolutely, he cleared his throat to hide a cough and another shiver, straightening his appearance as much as he could, sweeping back his wet hair on his now thankfully numb back.

“We’re in a cave,” said Wei Wuxian uselessly. “Ah, do you happen to know the exit?”

Lan Zhan’s mouth remained that firm line before trudging ahead in dismissal. Wei Wuxian followed after him and found that continuous movement helped fend off the chill. After composing himself in silence, he managed to abate the chattering of his teeth and regulated a bit of his internal body heat, a trick he learned young and grew up using in particularly frigid winter nights.

Wei Wuxian paused. Frowning, he reached for his sleeves and found the item he was searching for missing. He had been holding that pouch before falling, hadn’t he?

Oh no.

“Crap.” His voice was loud enough to ring within the cave, halting even Lan Zhan though not exactly turning to look back at his companion to ask. “Wait. Let me go back a bit—the pouch—your ribbon!”

The statement warranted Lan Zhan’s attention this time. Wei Wuxian felt rather sheepish under the stare. Stupid. He was supposed to return it as an apology and then they would go on their merry way and forget Wei Wuxian’s moment of weakness (and stupidity). Resigned and chastised the longer the pointed stare lengthen, he said, “Look, I’m really sorry about what happened. I don’t know if you believe me, but I honestly didn’t know no one’s allowed to touch it.”

Lan Zhan did not blink, and it would have been eerie if he wasn’t doing a great job imitating a magnificent statue carved in jade. The shade of color that stood out the most from him was the gold of his eyes amidst the reflection of what little light there was within the cave walls, like a relic hidden and untouched by time.

Wei Wuxian swallowed down the poetics threatening to spill from his tongue. Not the time.

Wordlessly, Lan Zhan unclenched a closed fist to reveal the familiar pouch and pulled out the ribbon within, blessedly dry, and without breaking eye contact tied it around his forehead before turning his back once more and proceeding ahead.

Wei Wuxian could only blink after him.

… Was that a smile?

His mind must be playing tricks on him, or it could be the cold, come to think of it. It wasn’t hard for him to come to the conclusion that he was indeed still dazed, probably from the rough tumble earlier into this cave and the low temperature, or both, when the next thing he was seeing was rabbits.

Fluffy white bunnies with tiny Lan forehead ribbons. Wei Wuxian wanted to laugh at the absurdity this day was turning.

To be fair, though, those were really cute bunnies with beady eyes that noticed their visitors and sniffed at the ground. Wei Wuxian resisted the urge to gather a bunch of them to cuddle for warmth.

“Lan Zhan,” he called, barely taking his eyes off the little animals that littered the narrow outcropping to the side. “Are you seeing what I’m—”

Wei Wuxian collided with what felt like an invisible force that slammed him back to the water. Indignantly, he rose, hacking out water. “Oh, come on!”

While Lan Zhan didn’t appear to be worried, he was equally confused between the white guqin that was simply sitting there, unassuming, and Wei Wuxian waddling through the water.

He had seen it the second time, a strike that came from a single, resounding note that went from behind Lan Zhan and straight to Wei Wuxian as if it knew he was an offender—and damn if he didn’t terribly regret not having Suibian or at least his fan to counter that. His reflex kicked in, diving narrowly to the shallow surface and twisting.

The next one followed immediately as he was about to pivot his heel and maneuver toward the dry ground. This one, however, did not reach him in time, Lan Zhan’s blade effectively blocking the assault.

Wei Wuxian figured that it was a protective measure of some sort, and whatever this cave was, it was clearly guarding something. Interestingly, it didn’t care enough to throw Lan Zhan out despite the fact that the two of them were technically intruders, recognizing that he wasn’t an outsider like Wei Wuxian was.

Sharply, he glanced back at the harmless rabbits that were seemingly imitating Lan disciples with their snowy fur and little forehead ribbons that, now that Wei Wuxian realized, could only be seen among the inner disciples of the Lan Sect. He was yet to get an explanation why that silk ribbon was too much of a big deal to be considered sacred, although...

Hold on.

“Lan Zhan! You’ll probably hate me for this, and I swear I’m sorry in advance, but unless you want me to die, you’re going to have to let me touch that ribbon again!”

For a split second, Wei Wuxian had an ugly feeling that Lan Zhan actually wanted to be rid of him permanently, and, oh, his cold-hearted muse, a beguiling, unsmiling—

Lan Zhan was on his side in the next beat, the silk ribbon coiled around his and Wei Wuxian’s forearm. The cloth was pulled taut between them, a mere couple of inches that Wei Wuxian was certain he could close with a strong tug.

He raised an eyebrow, lips pursing into a quirk at the edges. “Thank you.”

In lieu of ignoring Wei Wuxian’s eyes and slight grin, Lan Zhan stared at the guqin and led the way back to where he had been. Still a little mesmerized, Wei Wuxian was going to pretend that Lan Zhan’s pace wasn’t slow for his sake.

“I wonder what kind of treasure this is,” he said, humming appreciatively at the craftsmanship of the instrument in ivory and the delicate engraving of patterns, “that it’s not letting strangers near it.”

“Don’t touch it,” Lan Zhan warned needlessly as if Wei Wuxian would dare lay his wet hand on a fine creation. “This instrument is hard to obtain and has magical value. It knows how to target people with a different family name using Chord Assassination.”

Well, damn, that was the longest he’d heard from Lan Zhan. Also, Chord Assassination? Wasn’t that the one Lan Qiren mentioned in one of his lectures an ultimate move passed down from generation to generation in the Lan Sect?

“One of Lan Sect’s heirlooms then?” Though he wondered why hide this exquisite instrument when it could be displayed; why the magical protection for this thing alone? “Hm. Can we investigate?”

“Don’t touch it,” came the same warning. “You’ll be disrespecting my ancestor’s possession.”

“Fine. How are we supposed to investigate it without touching it?”

Lan Zhan moved around and to the other side of the guqin, sitting. Wei Wuxian decided to situate himself next to the instrument, watching raptly at the long fingers that tuned the strings, a pale hue of qi danced across the surface where he touched.

Wei Wuxian was aware that Lan Sect’s expertise lay in musical cultivation, and he had to admit that there was something enrapturing to observe a Lan performing it even if what Lan Zhan was doing was one of the basic aspects of it.

He did not recall closing his eyes, though when he next opened them, Lan Zhan was pointedly looking at the spot where Wei Wuxian sat. Consciously, he stood, patting nonexistent dirt away from the instrument.

Then the notes came, a response to Lan Zhan’s playing. A flash of what must be a surprise lit Lan Zhan’s features.

“It’s her.”

“Who?”

From the walls, there echoed a sudden noise of a hundred thundering steps, of multiple voices clamoring at once. They were both on high alert in an instant upon hearing the recitation of the names of the five major clans. Lan Zhan withdrew his sword, and Wei Wuxian, subconsciously, positioned himself a step in front of him.

There were loud chants of killing a holy mountain and destroying the Stygian metal, of demands for a Xue Chonghai to give up the said Stygian metal. The yells alone were enough to determine that the five major clans were to attack a clan of this Xue Chonghai.

“What is Stygian metal?”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Lan Zhan admitted.

The noise settled into a deafening silence before a clear and gentle feminine voice said: “Stygian metal is cursed. It’s best not to talk about it.”

At the place Lan Zhan previously occupied, a woman in blue of the shade of skies sat down, her face serene and timeless, not a hair out of place as she regarded them.

Lan Zhan went to his knees, bowing deeply, the gesture pulling Wei Wuxian down with him. “Gusu Lan Sect disciple, Lan Zhan, greets Elder Lan Yi.”

Wei Wuxian paid the same respects, almost floundering doing so. “Four Seasons Sect disciple, Wei Ying, greets Elder Lan Yi.”

At him, Lan Yi said, “You came a long way.”

Wei Wuxian was tempted to ask how in the world did she know and if that meant his fathers’ sect could be traced as far back as the ones in the cultivation world. He held his tongue, observing her quite taken with a rabbit that had wandered over to her. She stroked its fur fondly, and for a moment Wei Wuxian could believe that she wasn’t an elder of centuries old.

“Elder, do you raise those rabbits?” he asked.

“Yes. To keep me company,” she answered. “My magic has waned over the years,” she said evenly. “They love to play so they frequently run outside.”

“Elder, they said you passed away years ago,” said Lan Zhan. “Why...”

“Is it related to the Stygian metal?” Wei Wuxian could gather as much from what they’d heard.

A flicker crossed her face, akin to a disturbed surface of perfectly tranquil water. “It is the biggest mistake of my life. Because of it, I’ve used all of my spiritual energy as the price for suppressing the Stygian iron.”

On her palm, she produced an old piece of chipped metal, tarnished but not rusted. This must be the Stygian metal, and Wei Wuxian’s mind raced with questions upon questions and settling for two.

“What’s up with this metal? And the yelling earlier, where do they come from?”

“Since it has been unsealed, my psyche, along with my magical powers, weakens day by day,” she said. “And then you two came. It must be fate.”

Lan Yi spoke of a few hundred years back, when the Stygian metal hadn’t been broken into pieces, and what was presently named Yiling Burial Mounds was then called a holy mountain. She mentioned Xue Chonghai who had been the most powerful advisor to the emperor, and how the facts had been muddled by time as to why he had wielded the Stygian metal to absorb resentment and used human beings as sacrifices. With the Stygian metal, he had controlled a notorious beast known as the Tortoise of Slaughter. Formidable, Xue Chonghai slaughtered cultivators of various sects, both big and small.

“The five major sects,” Wei Wuxian began. “They banded together to bring him down.”

“Indeed. It cost a lot of lives, and the Yiling holy mountain became the Burial Mounds for the fallen.”

“Elder, where was the Stygian metal after that?” Lan Zhan asked.

“It absorbed numerous living beings’ spiritual awareness, and all the resentment couldn’t be contained.”

“The metal was capable of spirit consumption?” Wei Wuxian asked in disbelief.

He’d read of theories and the subjects that encompassed spiritualism, and he would wager that not all the scholars who scribed and penned those in old books and dusty scrolls had seen half of what they’d written in practice, one of those about how a spirit could transform into its own awareness that was capable of destroying either itself or another, or capable to growing itself by multitudes through absorption or consumption.

“The Stygian metal was originally a national treasure that could absorb nature’s natural aura,” Lan Yi said. “Xue Chonghai used that ability to absorb living beings’ awareness and cultivators’ spirit essence, and because of this the resentment completely polluted the metal and can never be cleansed. The closest to suppression the five greatest clans managed was to divide the metal into pieces, stored in four locations where the spiritual vein is in abundance in four cardinal locations. To prevent the same mistake of Xue Chonghai, it was agreed not to pass the knowledge of Stygian iron to any of the future descendants.”

“Forgive me for speaking directly, Elder, but using the logic of absorption, why not absorb instead the opposite of resentment, an amount that can overwhelm the resentment within? And the iron must have its limits too for it’s not a pocket of unlimited space to contain everything there is. Why not stuff it full of resentment until it cannot contain all in itself? It doesn’t have to be the living; the dead or beasts, like the Nie Sect’s way of cultivation. Or—or what if we utilize the resentment within the metal? It won’t be like Xue Chonghai if we—”

“Wei Ying!” exclaimed Lan Zhan. In truth, his volume hardly rose a level, but it was as much of a sound of incredulity at what Wei Wuxian was saying.

She shook her head. “What Young Master Wei said was exactly what I had in mind then. The folly of youth is arrogance and the inexplicable need to prove oneself.” She turned wistful. “As the first female sect leader who wants prestige for her sect and to prove them wrong, I carried those follies through the years and pursued the Stygian iron. It was futile, in the end.” Lan Yi smiled ruefully. “Baoshan Sanren was right.”

Wei Wuxian jolted. “B-Baoshan Sanren?”

“She was a good friend, and she tried to stop me. I’m a fool for not listening.” Her eyes were distant, regretful. “I thought I could enlighten it on my own but merely ended up unsealing the iron. Once unsealed, it couldn’t be reversed. Now here I am in Han Tan Cave, unable to leave after I used my psyche instead. I might not have passed away all those years ago, but I’ve been fading away since then.”

A slow death and dying alone. Wei Wuxian couldn’t think of anything worse.

“What happened to my grandmaster?” he asked quietly.

“Grandmaster?”

Wei Wuxian nodded. “My mother, Cangse Sanren, was a disciple of Baoshan Sanren. She lived with her master and came down from her mountain. She met my biological father afterward and had me.”

“I didn’t know.” Lan Yi stared at him in wonder. “Who would have thought that Baoshan Sanren would take a disciple? We were both young back then, and last I heard of her she went to seclusion. I was… ashamed to seek her.”

“Elder, I have a question,” Lan Zhan spoke. “Are you the one who brought us here?”

“No, not with my weakening state, but I suspect that it’s the Stygian metal. It has been restless since the past decade when the other pieces resurfaced.”

Wei Wuxian shared a look with Lan Zhan. Someone was aiming to be another Xue Chonghai, and it didn’t bode well for their generation and the next.

“The pieces must be gathered together to seal the iron once more.” Her lips pursed. “Only then will the resentment quieten, and hopefully will be laid to rest here forever, frozen in this cave.”

Lan Zhan clasped his hands in front of him, kneeling. “As a descendant of Gusu Lan Sect, Lan Zhan vows to fulfill this obligation to Elder Lan Yi.”

Wei Wuxian imitated the gesture, much to Lan Zhan’s surprise. “Wei Ying of the Four Seasons sect vows to accomplish this with Lan Zhan.”

“This is a matter of the Gusu Lan alone,” Lan Zhan protested.

“I might be from a different sect, from somewhere far away from here, but it doesn’t mean I’ll stand by when there’s potential harm to many. I might have been raised in jianghu, but my fathers raised me to care for the lives of others,” he declared, glancing briefly at Elder Lan Yi and noticing her soft gaze at them. “Besides, Elder is right. Maybe it is fate that brought us here.”

Personally, Wei Wuxian hadn’t been a believer of fate for it only happened to him once: his baba finding him in that terrible snowstorm, way before Sect Leader Jiang or even death itself found him. He felt the tight grip of Lan Zhan’s silk ribbon against his forearm, connecting him to his owner.

Perhaps this, too, was fate.

❆❆❆

Lan Yi’s fading was inevitable, though for it to happen in front of his eyes brought a disquiet in Wei Wuxian’s stomach. What was left of her spiritual essence exploded into blue fireflies, enchanting and separating into several little lights that would never come together again to form a whole.

They stumbled past an egress that magically appeared on a wall, with Lan Zhan half-dragging him out like he was eager to set out as soon as possible to find the remaining pieces of the Stygian iron.

Heh. He probably was.

Completely forgetting being tied to Lan Zhan, Wei Wuxian misjudged a step, foot tangling with Lan Zhan’s, throwing them both together on the rocky dry ground.

“Well,” began Wei Wuxian, grinning down coquettishly, after finding himself on top of an alarmed Lan Zhan. “This is a nice end to our escapade, Lan-er-gongzi.”

It would be forever etched in his mind, that adorable shade of scarlet.

#fanfic #fanfiction #shl fanfic #cql #chen qing ling #mdzs #untamed fic #crossover #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #the untamed #word of honor #wwx gets adopted by wenzhou

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